Work Text:
[Image ID: This is a portrait of Dr. Mensah from the waist up, wearing a white short sleeve shirt and blue pants. She has lifted her shirt to show her midriff. She is partially obscured by a screen overlay suggesting it is from SecUnit's perspective. The overlay contains text using the font derived from the one used in the Murderbot TV show. A small inset image is on the right of Mensah suggesting SecUnit is in the middle of watching a show. Inset image to the right of Mensah shows a drone view of Mensah's skin showing four moles on her cheek, corresponding to a drone hovering next to Mensah's face. Top left text: "Something age related". Top right text: "Benign neoplasm of skin. Preexisting. Raised but round and even texture. Risk assessment: 0.02%". Bottom right text: "Unknown skin condition. Not commonly reported across CR databases. Risk assessment: Benign". To the left of Mensah are three graphs showing an electrocardiogram, heartrate, and a capnograph.
/end ID]
Mensah was working out at the Preservation Station gym. Sweat glistened on her skin as she stretched out her muscles, humming softly to herself. My drones followed closely behind, their cameras capturing every detail of her movements. I've been keeping an eye on Mensah's skin (on top of the typical health information I extracted from data I was legally allowed to collect in public spaces). The errant but alarming comment from Arada about diseased moles had rattled me, and with no MedSystem, I was relying on these drones and my own observation.
I could observe the most skin when Mensah went to the gym, so I've taken to following her there. (Lifting weights did nothing for me, for obvious reasons, but I could still spot her when she used the gravibars.)
Mensah grunted, dropping the gravibar with a clang. Mensah rubbed her neck. “Feels a bit…sensitive,” she muttered.
I zoomed in with my own optics. “Are you alright? Is there pain? Swelling?”
Her brows raised, and her gaze darted around the gym. “I'm fine, SecUnit. It's just a little irritation,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. I wasn’t convinced. The drones continued their relentless scan.
As she made her way to the locker room, one of my drones lingered beside her, its camera zooming in on a small mole on the side of her neck. It was new, and I felt a flicker of concern. I found myself studying it intently.
[Image ID: Closeup of Mensah's face with drone hovering by her cheek.
/end ID]
"SecUnit, is there something on my face?"
I felt like she caught me in the act, but that didn't make sense since I wasn't doing anything. "No, Mensah." Then for no reason, I added, "Your skin looks different today."
Mensah's forehead creased. "Oh? What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But the mole on your neck is new. And there are some other changes in the texture of your skin."
She smiled. Lines etched around her eyes in the shape of crescent moons. "Oh, thank you! I've been trying out a new skincare regimen that Tano recommended. It's supposed to help with the signs of aging."
Aging. That word gave me emotions I didn't like. Humans aged and their skin changed over time. Observing it in someone as vital and strong as Mensah made me acutely aware that there will be a time when Mensah no longer lived on Preservation. Or anywhere else.
"Is it something you're interested in?" she asked, her curiosity piqued by my fascination with her skin. It was unclear if she was talking about the mole (which I was), or the skincare (which I was not). "And I suppose it might be possible for you to get moles too, if you keep your skin for long enough."
The thought made me even more uncomfortable. Moles and scars and wrinkles--all the imperfections that humans accumulate with age, and getting them myself. A bit of that discomfort made its way to my facial expression.
"Oh, it's fine," she reassured me with a chuckle. "Plenty of things can happen to the skin with time. Here, look at this."
And then she lifted her shirt, exposing the pale streaks of stretch marks across her abdomen. They were pale streaks that draped beneath her belly button and above her hips, the remnant of the incredible physical changes her body had undergone during pregnancy. I have seen a lot of skin from surveillance footage, but had never intentionally and closely observed them over any long stretches of time.
In the media, humans were always depicted with flawless skin, their bodies untouched by the ravages of time or childbirth. And scars like these would have never been allowed to stay on for any Corporation Rim resident who could afford the cosmetic procedures. But here, in the flesh, Mensah's skin was a living testament to her experiences, telling stories that no amount of editing could erase.
[Image ID: Closeup of Mensah's midsection with drone hovering by her stomach.
/end ID]
The most commonly used Preservation local language, at least on the Station, had words that distinguished between effective cosmetics, hygiene practices, good morals, societal status, and other subjective judgement. On the other hand, Corporate Standard "conflates ethical and aesthetic judgments" (according to ART), resulting in perplexing statements in media like "jealousy is bad for your skin," and someone having the "brows of a villain." I carefully chose a word that represented a pleasant sensorial experience, and in Preservation-local, told Mensah that her skin was beautiful.
"You know, SecUnit, your skin is beautiful, too."
I rather not think about my appearance at all most of the time, but... I trusted Mensah's judgement.
On another note, my request for a full body medical checkup scheduled on Mensah's behalf was declined for lack of medical authorization. Stupid Preservation privacy rules. What do I even need to do, get married?