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When Mori and his parents had joined the Wurst, most of the plan had been for him to be involved in the FTL jump calculations. The skills and fascination with androids hadn’t been something that he’d opened with (or, rather, that his parents had). But even with their Battle of the Brands purse in hand, they hadn’t exactly shied away from firefights. So anyone who could help with the repairs to Sidney and Gunnie was valuable as hell, because Sidney wanted to be on the front line as often as possible despite the two Barrys being present.
(And Gunnie hated it, but he ended up dinged a non-zero number of times too.)
(And between the three of them, they could handle most of the repairs the Wurst as a whole, too.)
But it had taken a while for Sidney to reach out about his skills in other ways.
“Where did you even find this?” Mori didn’t bother looking up his work as he asked the question. “How did you manage to find an android chassis with the density of a black hole?”
“I can’t rightly explain where Plug gets his stock from,” Sidney said cheerfully. “It seems to just appear in his hut, but that is a Plug special. He gives me first access to anything that comes in.”
That piqued his interest. He span around on his stool to face her, and squinted. “What are you looking through his junk for? Thought you were looking for upgrades and stuff, not the sort of shit he carries.”
She tilted her head to the side, considering for a few moments. “Well, I try to take anything android related back to the Junkmother,” she said, sounding out each word as if she was trying to figure out how much to tell him. She was.
She didn’t think that human eyes were meant to be capable of changing colours like hers did when she was overclocking, but she would have sworn that his did. Her lack of colour vision really might have been messing her up there, though.
“The Junkmother?” he asked, and there was no carefulness to him; no attempt to hold himself back from being too interested. When it came to the stuff that he liked, Mori was pretty incapable of holding himself back. So he stared back at her, waiting until she relented and spoke again.
“The Junkmother is an android collective. Lots of different androids who have built themselves into a whole, and she brings more android parts together — some become a part of the collective, some are repaired to exist as themselves again, but she protects androids that others have discarded,” Sidney spoke with more reverence than she normally offered to anything; as she did, Mori’s eyes grew wider and wider, hanging onto every word.
“So she makes new androids out of things that people have thrown away?” he asked, and belatedly, she realised that explanation of it did fall pretty closely in line with the things that Mori got very enthusiastic about. And the repairs did too, though he hadn’t specifically brought that part of things up. Why she hadn’t thought about that before was a bit beyond her, but here she was.
“That’s part of it,” Sidney said diplomatically. “And repairs, and protecting keepers of souls. Like… me. Androids that are the last of their line.”
“Or only,” Mori breathed, and she winced. She didn’t exactly need the reminder, but he didn’t know that. Wasn’t exactly something she spoke to him about, or really, anyone organic about. “Sidney, I need to meet her. Please? Take me to meet her?”
Sidney’s wince deepened. What was she meant to do with that? He was practically the captain’s son, but the meeting between Skip and the Junkmother hadn’t really gone well. And then there was the fact that going back to Hon Grii would almost certainly be something that the Barrys wanted nothing to do with.
“Sidney,” he interrupted her train of thought, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s really important, I’ll — I’ll figure out some way to pay you back, I can upgrade your gun, or —”
“I can’t promise when,” Sidney cut him off before he started spiralling in a way that she knew she would have no way of stopping. “It’ll probably have to be when we can get some shore leave in the right part of AnarchEra. Because I’m not gonna ask other people to come with us.”
If anything, that only made him more excited. A solo visit to a giant android collective sounded like exactly what he was meant to achieve in his time on the Wurst. Well, not totally solo — he needed Sidney to know how to get there — but still. It was entirely in line with his goals.
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever it takes, we can do that,” he mumbled.
She blinked back at him. “And I’ll warn you, the only other organic that met her that I know — well, Skip found her pretty scary, and I’m pretty certain that she could kill him, if she wanted to. She’s very powerful. I’ll try to keep you safe, but —”
Once again, this only served to make Mori even more excited. He looked up at her with a bright grin, and nodded, looking a bit more like a puppy than a human man.
“You’re not scaring me off, Sidney,” Mori promised. “I’m in. Take me there.”
Sidney wondered what she had got herself into, frankly.
It wasn’t actually that many units before shore leave came around. The Barrys were heading off to get their hands on some new weaponry, and Norman and Mori’s parents had plans that frankly, Mori had never been less interested in. What they got up to was none of his business.
Which meant that anyone who might try to stop Mori from going along on a mystery excursion was entirely distracted, and Sidney didn’t have anyone to distract her, either.
There was no getting out of it.
Mori was the opposite of interested in Fantanimalland. If it came down to a question of organic life and inorganic androids, Mori would choose the latter every time. So there was no way to distract him from the goals, despite her best efforts. Sidney fretted as she led him across the zoo, towards the elevator.
But there was no getting out of it.
“How did you even find this the first time?” he asked, fiddling with the controls on his data pad to open up the doors. They’d slide their way down once he figured this out. He had jumped at the opportunity to physically work his way into the electronics, claiming that a short in Sidney’s electronics would have had him at the end of a gun from too many clones for his liking.
(She didn’t feel like arguing, but she could have pointed out that a shock in his body would have had her at the end of a gun from too many Kansans for her liking.)
(She was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to end up electrocuted.)
“Searching for Barry Nyne before he was un-slugged,” she said, on the lookout for any of the employed Vercadians. “Prilbus escaped using this when he hijacked him, and Skip and I went investigatin’.”
Mori made a thoughtful sound and the doors slid open with a thunk.
She gestured to her back. “Hop on,” she said, and kicked on her rocket boots, swooping down into the darkness once he reluctantly complied.
They made their way through the winding tunnels. Sidney knew that Skip had found this oppressively ominous, the scratches in the walls and clear nargons of disuse. Even she hadn’t managed to make it back for a couple of rigons; she knew that she wasn’t the only visitor to the Junkmother, but their conversations had made her feel like she was here more frequently than any other android. And she didn’t know any organics who made the trek.
But true to his word, Mori didn’t look worried. He followed along, happy to be on his own two feet, and had his datapad out, taking photos and making notes as they made their way in. Sidney blinked at him, confusion written clear on her face.
“Whatcha takin’ down, there, Mori?” she asked.
“Oh, just — sizes, capabilities, stuff like that,” he muttered, looking down at the data he’d put in there. “Do you have another way in that can avoid Fantanimalland? There’s gotta be an external exit that can avoid all of those people…”
She frowned a little, and shrugged. “I don’t mind going in through the zoo. Means I get to check in on the Aguatunesians and make sure the Griivar family hasn’t made anything worse while we weren’t looking.”
He looked utterly uninterested at the idea, and went back to inspecting the tunnels around them. “Well, these look like they were maintenance tunnels. Must be an external entrance to get through when the zoo is closed.”
“Spose that can’t hurt to know,” she conceded. “But I want to make sure we get this chassis to the Junkmother before you get too distracted.”
“Oh,” he frowned thoughtfully. “You’re not wrong, I guess. Alright. But I want easy access for the future.”
Sidney looked at him as they made their way through tunnels, and came to the conclusion that Mori had not heard the word no too often in his life.
She had just reached that conclusion when she rolled into the Junkmother’s home, her skates clunking into the catwalk once again. She smiled down at the Junkmother, and waved wildly with her assault cannon.
“It’s so good to see you again, Junkmother,” she said cheerily. “I brought a friend, and some parts you might be interested in.”
The Junkmother flew up towards them, and settled with her claws digging into the catwalk. “Sundry Sidney. It has been some time.”
“I know, I’m real sorry, High Priestrix,” she said apologetically. “We’ve been getting round the galaxy a bunch, so there hasn’t been much of a chance to get back here. But I’ve kept things for you.”
She opened up her bag and deposited the parts on the catwalk, keeping the Junkmother’s delighted attention on herself and the new parts. The Junkmother had no trouble in lifting the chassis that Sidney had been struggling with, lifting it between the slim blades that were her fingers, and she made a delighted trill, swooping away to add it to the relevant part of the pile.
“Have you been seeking anything yourself, Sundry Sidney?” the Junkmother called back over her shoulder.
“Wait, she gives things back to you?” Mori asked, wide eyed.
The sound drew the Junkmother’s attention, she leapt up onto the catwalk and crouched in front of him, but he was clearly not disturbed by that. He looked around with wonder; the Junkmother's abode was a treasure trove of discarded technology and oddities that shone, if not physically, with untapped potential. Designs that had gone nowhere — but could have, if people had better imaginations. There were designs here the likes of which Mori had never seen, and he had spent a good chunk of his time on and off Kansas getting his hands on physical tech — and blueprints in their absence.
Almost instinctively, he fell to his knees in front of her, and Sidney's expression in response was purely baffled. She had a lot of reverence for the Junkmother, obviously, but even with everything she knew about Mori, this reaction was unexpected.
The Junkmother tapped her bladed fingers together, tilting her impassive head to the side.
“Why have you come here? What is this that you are doing?” she asked, curiously
“This is everything I've ever dreamed of,” he breathed.
“You are interested in the androids?” the Junkmother asked, blinking her nictitating membranes down at him.
“Wish I was one,” Mori said absently. “But — what you’ve built here, the way you’ve brought these parts together… it’s brilliant.”
She hummed, and shifted from side to side. “Did you bring any parts for me, friend of Sidney?” she asked.
“I’ve left that to Sidney here for now,” he said, leaning forward. “But if that’s what you want me to do — I could get my own ship, I don’t have to be stuck with what Captain Dad wants to do, he just wants to make credits, but — we could focus more on reclaiming droids, bringing them here, if that’s what you want —”
“I don’t know you can be promisin’ to get your own ship, Mori — we could talk to the captain and prioritise it more maybe, between the two of us —” Sidney tried to say, but he wasn’t interested.
“No, I can —”
“Mori,” Sidney said sharply. “If your parents find out I was here and didn’t tell you not to talk to them before going and decidin’ —”
“I don’t give a shit,” Mori said, slightly annoyed.
“Well, I do, and I don’t feel like bein’ shot by three separate people just cause you’ve made a decision without talking to anyone,” Sidney said, and lay her hand on his shoulder. “It’s real sweet to want to do more for androids, don’t get me wrong, but your mother will remove my hard drive with her bare hands if I don’t bring you back to the Wurst.”
The Junkmother looked inscrutably between the two of them. “Your conversation confuses me, but I am happy to have you here when you can come, if you can contribute,” she said and nodded, decisively.
“Apologies, Junkmother, I didn’t know he was gonna come down here and, uh — pledge himself to yourself immediately.” Sidney curtseyed, and the Junkmother made a happy screech, and picked up the remainder of the pieces from Sidney’s bag, moving to distribute them with the system that she clearly had. Mori stood up, and scowled at Sidney.
“You’re treating me like I’m a kid,” he said, accusingly. “You wouldn’t like it if I treated you different just cause you were an android.”
She looked back at him steadily. “If I was thinking of leaving the Wurst, I’d have a discussion with the crew first,” she said. “It’s only polite. You can’t make those decisions without a thought for anyone else.”
Mori scowled back at her, but it looked more like he was having something turn over in his head than actually wanting to continue to fight with her.
“You should —” Sidney gestured with her gun arm. “Talk to her. I’m sure she’ll like to have someone to talk to about technology, and all of it.” She patted him on the shoulder. “And you can do things for her without striking off entirely on your own. This isn’t all or nothing.”
He didn’t look convinced — if anything, he looked even less convinced than when he had first come in here — but he went back to taking notes on his data pad, while Sidney skated off with her own objectives in mind.
In the end, she did drag him back to the Wurst — mostly with the threat that she would shoot a concussive grenade at his head and she would physically carry him back there if he wasn’t careful.
And he knew that she would do it, so he went along without being physically removed from the Junkmother’s home.
She was carrying arm fulls of items to return to the Wurst — an entire bag of sweet treats for Gunnie (and to a lesser extent, Norman), very distinctly nothing for the Barrys, and some novelty items for Skip and Zortch — as they made their way out of Fantanimalland. The Junkmother had given them both some parts to fiddle with, but Mori was watching Sidney thoughtfully.
“If you say I have to talk to my parents,” he said, sitting on the transport that would get them back to the space station the Wurst was docked at. “Then you’re going to need to help.”
“Oh,” she pulled a face, and settled the bags down around them. “You know them better than I do, I don’t think I would be too helpful.”
“Well, first, no, you know one of them better.” And Sidney had to wince a little, and concede one out of three. “And second of all, you know… people stuff. Emotional things. I don’t.”
She looked at him with a frown. “I don’t think that’s true…” she said, uncertainly.
“It is,” he said simply. “Look, I do love my parents, but I don’t really get the whole ‘They’d be sad if you left’ thing. If they found some place that they wanted to retire to, then I’d just be happy for them. I’d see them again. They’d answer if I called. So I don’t see it myself.”
She rubbed at the back of her neck, a habit that she had definitely picked up from one of the Barrys. “I don’t know, Mori. All I was saying was that you have to talk to 'em. I mean, people have told me I have to be able to disappoint people, I just don’t think you should make it a surprise.”
“Sidney,” he said, with a long sigh. “You owe me.”
She frowned. “Do I?”
“…No,” he grumbled. “But you like my parents, and you like me, and you want this to be less painful than if I try and do it by myself.”
She narrowed her humanoid eye at him for just a few moments, and relented. “Fine,” she muttered. “S’pose anything includes this.”
He smiled, wide and easy. “Course it does,” he said. “Brilliant bunch of circuits that you are.”
She huffed, but a fight a bout it was definitely beyond her.
“You want to what?”
Mori cringed, full body, at his mother’s reaction to his mention of the Junkmother, but he was going through with this plan, come hell or high water.
Or, potentially more accurately, come Natalie’s rage or tears.
(It was both.)
“Ma, I told you,” he said, and tried to look at Nicky instead. He got a shake of his head and a pointed look in response, and he sighed and looked back at Natalie. “I’m sure we can meet up, sometimes, but it’s what I wanna do, and I can’t be with you forever.”
“Well, that’s just not true,” Natalie corrected, but Nicky put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her in closer.
(The conversation went on for close to a marbec, before Nicky managed to get a hold of Norman to help convince Natalie that her life was not going to end if she no longer got to feed Mori his breakfast every unit for the rest of his life.)
(None of the participants in the conversation were exactly convinced that Natalie had accepted that it was true, but there were less active tears by the end of the conversation.)
Norman had just put Natalie and Nicky to bed when he found himself staring at Zortch, who was smiling at him uncertainly.
“Captain? Your son has completely destroyed the kitchen.”
Norman rubbed at his moustache with a sigh, and pretended that every part of the sentence didn’t warm him through despite himself.