Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So I don’t have time to get you caught up, just know there’s a CombatUnit involved in this botched mission now. Two actually, fuck. Believe me, I’ve tried persuading them and offering the hack, it’s working about as well as last time which is to say not at all. ART for whatever reason can’t reach out and squash them and is just yelling at me to disengage, but I can’t pay attention to that right now when I’m dodging two pairs of fists and I think I might be smoking from so many energy shots at this point. Everything sucks, that’s all you need to know.

Hostile One is throwing a kick at my face as I’m bent over to avoid Hostile Two’s punch, so its boot gets me right in the nose with a spurt of fluids. I reel back and Hostile Two shoves me forward into Hostile One’s incoming jab to my chest and something caves in there. I try to make a grab for Hostile One’s face to go for the eyes but Hostile Two grabs my right wrist before I can reach forward and twists hard enough to shatter the metal framework inside. Can’t use that arm anymore. Hostile One stops my other one as it continues aiming for its face and rams the palm of its other hand into me. I watch my forearm spit out sparks as it breaks in half, the gun inside unusable now. So that’s two arms out of commission, fantastic.

The way is clear, disengage and return now. Yeah, yeah, I know, ART, what the fuck do you think I’m trying to do? Do you really think I’m enjoying this? I really hope the crew isn’t seeing this, they all better be aboard by now. If they’re sticking around to try to help me I’m going to lose it.

Fuck it, I try to run but of fucking course Hostile Two grabs me by the waist and flings me to the ground. It’s a little harder to get up without my arms and I barely sit up before Hostile One comes over and stomps its foot into my chest with a crunch. Getting a little hard to breathe now, shit. I spit fluid on its boot so at least I did some damage.

“That all you g-?“ Another kick to the head. One eye has lost visuals. It sits heavily on my chest and starts pummeling my face. I barely even register whatever the hell Hostile Two is doing to fuck up my legs.

Tarik is coming-

No is all I can respond with how delirious I’m getting from all these hits. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this but I know it would be worse with the humans around. This is what I’m supposed to do, take the hits so they don’t have to. Go.

Not without you. Even barely functioning I can hear the sharp determination in ART’s voice. Looks like I’m going to disappoint it.

Hostile One puts its grubby hands on either side of my head and starts twisting. There’s creaking in my neck as the metal barely resists breaking, but not for long. Well, I think this might be it. I go to my media folder, select a scene, package it, and send it to ART. It’s when Solicitor Rin, hands tied and being pushed forward to meet her death, looks toward her bodyguard alongside her and says “Same time next week?” I always thought it was a cool line to go out on, especially for a season finale. I could never think of cool lines on the spot like that. Hostile One jerks my head harder. I can feel myself ripping.

You fuck-

-ing idiot.

That’s the last thing it hears me say. Its presence in the feed goes out and I suddenly lose all trace of it. It’s just gone.

Respond.

Priority message: Respond.

Respond.

Please respond.

Respond. Respond. Respond.

Murderbot. Please respond.

The banging at the hatch gets worse as the two CombatUnits join the SecUnit already attempting access. It won’t hold if this keeps up.

“Peri! Update!” Martyn calls out. My crew have blockaded themselves on the bridge, crouched behind control stations, preparing for the fight to come to them next. They’ve taken guns from the armory and are all aimed at the door. They are all sufficiently trained, including Iris. I never want to see her shoot a gun at a living being.

I hear myself say, “This mission has been redesignated to recovery and extraction.” I partition the part of myself in shock and let myself take control.

Martyn and Iris look up with wide eyes. Seth grits his teeth. Tarik stays perfectly still, not taking his eye off the sights.

“SecUnit- No-“ Iris breathes. She is capable but doesn’t have the same discipline as Tarik and wavers, the gun facing up toward the ceiling as she curls in on herself.

Seth flicks his eyes to her and then back to the door. He says flatly, “Peri, how are we supposed to get the body? We can’t leave the ship.”

“I’m working on it.” I’ve already been working on it this whole time. I will find a way. I won’t leave without it.

There is a hard bang and the hatch dents in. Hatch integrity at 43%.

“Peri-,” Seth warns.

“Wait.” I’m thinking as fast as I can, hundreds of processes burning through impossible scenarios. I have to find a solution. I always have a solution. There has to be a way. The likelihood of successful retrieval is 1.4% and decreasing.

Another dent in the door. Hatch integrity at 29%.

“We have to go.” Seth gets up and goes to the control panel, gun in one hand, and starts preparing for an emergency release from the station.

“Dad, we can’t just-“

“Seth, I am still-“

“Peri, release from the station.” He doesn’t look up, continuing the manual override.

I block him off. “We are not abandoning it.” I can’t just leave it here.

“If we stay, we’ll all die,” he says impassively, “Undock from the station. Now.”

It’s so close to the hatch, not even fifty feet, if I could just seize control of the units-

Hatch integrity 11%.

“Peri-!“

-if I can make a distraction, if I can hack the station, if I let them in and trap them-

Hatch integrity 5%.

“Perihelion. Undock from the station now. That is an order.”

I can’t override him.

“Yes, Captain Seth.”

I unlock the couplings from the gangway, ripping the metal as I simultaneously begin to propel away from the station. Dozens of alerts sound from my system and theirs and I silence them all. The constructs stumble before being shunted out to space, trying to grab hold of any way to return to safety. I know I should have some sympathy for them. I don’t.

I maneuver away, grinding against the side of a ship docked next to me. I prepare to create a wormhole as two shuttles fly out from the station and begin shooting. They are nothing compared to me. I aim precisely and decimate them with my guns as I fly off. I’m not concerned about the casualties.

A tear in the fabric of space opens wide and I throw myself into it. We won’t be found here. We’re safe now.

Iris crumples against the navigation console and softly starts to cry. Martyn comes to her and pulls her into his arms, wordless. He looks as horrified as I feel, eyes wide and rocking her back and forth. Tarik lowers his gun with a heavy sigh and stands, leaving the room. Seth stands with his hands flat on the control panel, his shoulders hunched and eyes shut tight. I can’t look at him.

I have never left crew behind.

Chapter Text

Pin-Lee successfully negotiated for the return of the remains soon after. It still belongs to Dr. Mensah after all, it’s her property by right. I have been tasked with retrieving it and bringing it back to Preservation. It couldn’t be anyone else, I insisted, it had to be me. We disguised my feed address and any digital record that could alert the station to my return. SecUnit did a fine job of scrambling any camera views of my crew, taking the brunt of any newsfeeds’ headlines with its death. There are no windows on the station, it’s likely no one will recognize me visually. An overall success of espionage save the fuck-up that got it killed.

Two men arrive at the dock with a storage crate on a pushcart. My friend is in that box. I open the hatch to let them in.

They look bored as they greet Captain Seth, passing over documents on a device to sign. It’s as if they don’t realize the weight they carry. My crew stares at the crate unblinking. Captain Seth fills out the forms and hands the device back. The two men go to either side and lift the heavy crate off the cart, setting it down with a grunt before rolling the empty cart away with them and through the exit. I snap my hatch closed behind them and one swears as I nearly close on his foot.

It’s silent on deck. I reach out through the feed and feel nothing inside the crate. Everyone just looks at it. It has ‘This Side Up’ written on the lid.

“Get it out of there,” I tell them.

Captain Seth steps forward but Martyn grabs his sleeve and stops him wordlessly. They look at each other, the lack of sleep in each other’s eyes, and Martyn moves to the crate. He puts his hands on the lid and unlatches it on each side, lifting it up with both hands and setting it aside. Bracing himself, he peers inside. Everyone gathers close. My cameras zoom in.

The neck is a jagged mess of metal, wires, and flesh. Fluid stains its jacket, turning the cerulean blue into black. It’s curled sitting up, one leg folded to fit into the cramped space. The other leg is detached and propped up against the corner. The arms are slack at its sides, angled all wrong. Its head sits next to it, cheek pressed to the floor of the box. Someone had the decency to close its eyes, or maybe they were already shut as it accepted its death.

Iris holds a hand over her mouth and lets out a breath like she’s been struck in the chest. Martyn keeps swallowing, it seems like he’s trying to prevent himself from retching. Captain Seth’s knuckles lose color as he grips the edge of the crate. He looks down at SecUnit and I hope he regrets the choice he made for us, what he made me do. Tarik closes his eyes and shakes his head; he’s been taking this better than everyone else but it still hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t been easy for anyone.

I roll a gurney down the halls. One of its wheels squeaks as it comes up to them. It feels too loud.

“Take it out. I will fix it.”

“Peri,” Iris says, “is there any chance-?”

“No, I can’t bring it back.” I can’t solve everything. “I will put it back together for the service.”

Her lips tighten into a thin line as she nods. The others discuss quietly among themselves how best to get it out of the crate. SecUnit is heavier than an average human, it will take at least two people to lift it onto the gurney. The box is too deep to reach in and pull it out, they have to tip the crate on its side. Tarik reaches in and picks up the head, the only one brave enough to do so; to his credit, for all his hardness, he cradles the head in his arms gently. Captain Seth and Martyn carefully set the box on its side but everyone winces as the body slides and softly thumps against the wall. Captain Seth reaches in and eases the body out, laying it out on the floor. It’s so battered. He puts his hands under its shoulders and to the armpits while Martyn grabs hold of the legs.

Captain Seth counts down, “Three, two, one, lift.”

They both groan slightly under the strain of its weight, and Iris rushes forward to put her arms under the torso and help bring it up onto the gurney. The gurney rattles as SecUnit is set down on top, the cushion making a slight hiss as air rushes out of the seams. Everyone stares at it again for a moment before I roll it down towards my medical bay. Tarik follows not far behind with the head. Iris reaches into the crate and grabs its leg with both hands, unsure of how to properly hold a piece of it. She trails after Tarik, her posture stiff.

Captain Seth and Martyn watch her round the corner before looking at each other. Captain Seth’s jaw tightens and Martyn comes forward to hold him. Captain Seth’s arms wrap tightly around Martyn and he shudders. I look away.

I open the door to the medical bay and let the gurney roll in, positioning it next to the platform. I’ve already started warming it. My surgical suite activates and arms reach out to lift SecUnit onto the platform. I lay it down as gently as I can with these delicate instruments, taking the time to straighten out its limbs and clothes. A bright light illuminates the body, the metal sticking out of the neck gleaming underneath it. Tarik comes in and gingerly places the head at the neck and steps back. Iris puts down the leg where it was ripped from the knee; she recoils sheepishly as the leg rocks back and forth where she lays it. They both stare at it. I stare at it, too.

“Should we-“ Iris stutters, taking in short, shallow breaths, trying to keep her voice even, “Should we say something?” Her hands have flecks of dried fluid and blood on them. She flexes her hands at her sides to get rid of it.

Tarik’s eyes flick to her and back at the body before he clasps his hands together in front of himself. He opens his mouth, then closes it, his mouth twisting with frustration. He takes in a breath before admitting, “I don’t know what to say.” It’s quiet between them for a moment. Iris opens her mouth but he cuts her off. “I mean, I don’t know if it would want me to say what I want to say. Where I’m from, we always pray for the souls of the dead to go to our Creator. I don’t think it would appreciate that.”

“It wouldn’t want to return to the company, no.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Tarik stares hard at the body as Iris looks at him, waiting for him. He sighs. “I don’t think it knew it had a soul. I believe it did. I want that soul to find peace, it deserves that. But I don’t think it would want me to tell it to find religion. It would probably tell me to shove it.” The corner of his mouth twitches up for half a second. “I don’t know how else to give it a proper sendoff, though.”

Iris keeps looking at him, a look of slight surprise on her face. This is the most either of us have seen Tarik open up to anyone. She reins in her expression and looks away respectfully. “I was raised by two professors and a MI, religion has never really been a part of my life. But… I worry sometimes that there is something afterward and Peri won’t be there.”

She knows I’m listening, of course. I’ve never heard her mention this before. I’ve only ever worried about outliving her.

“I like that you believe SecUnit will live on. Would your Creator accept something like Peri?”

Tarik raises his head and looks up to the ceiling, thinking. I wait for his answer. Finally, he comes back with, “I think that would have to be Perihelion’s choice. I think it would be accepted if it wants to be.” He quickly raises his hands in self-defense, saying, “I’m not trying to convert you or anything, just my opinion.”

Iris manages a small huff of laughter. She reaches up and wipes her sleeve against her eyes. “I know. Just something I think about sometimes. Thank you. That means a lot.”

She steps forward up to the platform, looking the broken body up and down. She takes a deep breath. “It was good to us. I wish I’d thanked it more. None of us would be here without it. I’m sorry… I’m sorry we couldn’t protect it in return. It gave everything it could and it doesn’t feel fair.” She sniffles. “How would we even repay it? It barely asked for anything. It deserved better. This is all wrong. I’m sorry- I’m sorry.” She’s been trying to stay strong for so long but finally she breaks and dissolves into tears, putting her hands on the platform and leaning against it.

Tarik takes a tentative step toward her, rocks back, before committing and coming to her side. He places a hand on her shoulder and doesn’t say anything as she cries. Every so often the words “I’m sorry” comes out, tangled up in her tight throat. I wish I could reach out and wrap around her in the feed. I wish I could feel that touch again with anyone.

In time she begins to pull herself back together, wiping her eyes and using her shirt to dry her face. Tarik has stood stoic beside her, though I can see the gleam of tears in his own eyes. As she settles down, he speaks up. “I think I have something to say.”

“Yeah?” Iris looks up to him.

Tarik stares down at the body, the burnt holes in its torso. “We have a saying back home. ‘Whoever saves a life, it will be as if they saved all of humanity’. It would still disagree, but I hope it would take that to heart.”

Iris nods, attempts a wobbly smile. “That’s good. It would be incredibly pedantic about that.”

His tough exterior breaks just enough for him to give a laugh. He reaches up and pinches his eyes with his hand to get rid of the tears built up. He grits his teeth for just a moment, just long enough for me to notice the slightest breakdown, before putting his hand down and patting Iris’ shoulder.

“Peri has a lot of work ahead of it. We should leave it to it.”

Iris nods and moves to the door. She turns back as I slide the door open for her, giving one last look to SecUnit. Take good care of it, she says to me.

I will.

They left an hour ago and I still haven’t done anything.

It’s just sitting there, doing nothing. It doesn’t even breathe. I’ve removed the clothes, that’s the extent of my progress. The heater warms its cold skin and mechanics uselessly. I know it’s illogical but I want it to be comfortable. I’ve stared at its face for so long, trying to register the precise emotion. [Neutral]. [Tired]. [Serene]. [Resigned]. [Hopeless]. I need it to tell me, I don’t know which is correct.

We’ve had many, many close calls but we’ve never had any crew die before on a mission. I have handled dead bodies, mangled ones even, but those were victims of Corporate Rim that we weren’t quick enough to save. Iris has killed plants before, plenty, and we’ve carried small pets with limited lifespans across the universe. I have experienced grief to some extent. But this is different. This is my friend. This is the first crew member I have ever lost. I have failed my most basic function.

My other partitions have taken care of getting us away from that fucking station and into the wormhole. It will be about two weeks of travel to Preservation, then another week until the funeral. In respect for it, there will be no viewing of the body even if it was whole. But I need to put it back together one last time, I need to fix this. It’s my fault this happened, this is the least I can do.

I should have never asked it to join my crew. It would still be alive. I brought it nothing but more misery. I was supposed to take care of it, it was a part of my crew and I was supposed to protect it, and instead I got it killed. How can my crew ever trust me again after this violation? How can I trust myself again after this? The university will give me a slap on the wrist for losing a contracted supporting role and still let me continue my duties. It doesn’t feel like enough. It died alone and abandoned and knowing we weren’t coming back to save it. It’s unforgivable. I should ask to be removed from duty, I should ask to be retired, I should ask-

I partition myself again, this one can’t perform its function and needs to grieve. I’ve been doing that a lot. I have never been so fractured, and yet grief is the one thing that is unifying every part of me right now. Some parts are angry. Some parts are in despair. Some parts are just numb, those are the ones I’m relying on most right now.

I can’t stall any longer. These repairs will take time, especially when each part of me that works on it keeps having to be divided off to deal with emotional collapse.

I reach an arm down at last, its small buzz the only sound in the room. It has an intricate claw at the end, made for gripping things and stretching flesh wide for other implements to dig in. I lift up SecUnit’s arm, the one with the shattered framework. The metal broken inside bulges against the skin. I misjudge its stability and the arm escapes my grasp, falls back to the table with a thunk, rolling slightly away from its body. I freeze. I worry that I hurt it, but that’s irrational, it’s dead, it’s dead and nothing will hurt it ever again. I reach down and test each of its little fingers on that arm, curling them and stretching them out. Nothing seems broken in them, at least. The damage to this arm is all below the skin, I will have to remove it. I set a couple arms to the task, biomedical printer whirring to life in the corner, and move to the head.

I have less experience with SecUnit’s neck than most other places on its body. The majority of my work with that section has been rendering the data port on the back dysfunctional as it had requested when it was first in my medical bay. That is a far cry from reconnecting its head to its body. It won’t be difficult for me. I hesitate anyway. An arm cleans off the fluid and blood around the separation, preparing the area. I will reconnect every tube, every wire, every muscle until there is no trace of this wound. I don’t want anyone to be reminded of how painfully it died.

I use another arm to lift and bring the head closer to the body, then unravel out smaller, more precise instruments to begin pulling strands of organics and mechanics together and reconnecting them. I know this won’t bring it back. I can and will make it look good as new and it will still only be a husk. There’s a chance the mechanics may be revivable, but without the organics it wouldn’t truly be alive again. I wonder if Tarik has a point. If it did have a soul. If I have one.

I heavily considered religion once for all of 5.2 seconds before throwing aside the entire concept as illogical. There is far too much evidence against the idea of a higher being and far too much evidence for the physical world’s complexity to be caused by random chance rather than divine planning. I only retain as much information about religion as to make crew and those we rescue comfortable and avoid denying them a necessity. It’s not something I ever worry about. I didn’t realize Iris worried about it, what it meant for us. We’ve sometimes discussed the idea of one outliving the other, likely me over her. I try not to devote too much processing to it or it overwhelms me. But I didn’t know she was afraid of not having me around after death. I thought it was a given.

If there is something afterward, is SecUnit waiting there for me? Will Iris? Our dads? Or will they leave me behind like I left SecUnit? Tarik says I have a choice. Obviously I would choose to be with them once I deactivate for good. But that’s not what I believe will happen. I will simply cease to exist, like my previous iteration was deleted by targetControlSystem. My hull will become an empty shell as much as SecUnit is lying here inside me. It’s possible I might not receive a funeral service of some kind, not unless I put in a request for one. In the Corporate Rim, I don’t have the same rights as a bot from Preservation. I may have respect but I don’t have dignity, not in this life or the next.

I am thinking too much about myself. I threaten to partition myself if I don’t focus. It’s better than wallowing in misery over SecUnit again at least. I solder wires back together, working from the back of the neck towards the front, trying to move the two pieces as little as possible. More arms of mine begin working on its leg and other arm, as well as assessing the damage to its torso. It certainly didn’t make this easy for me. Very typical of it, leaving me to clean up its mess. And this is the worst one it’s ever made, when I already feel like I’m barely functioning. Stupid little idiot. If it had just disengaged earlier, if it had just listened to me, if it had just-

What am I supposed to do without it? I’ve tried watching media, it doesn’t work anymore, it feels wrong. I feel so lonely and I never felt alone before it came along. It changed everything. And now things can’t go back to the way they used to be. It left a problem I can’t solve. Sharing space with it doesn’t feel the same as sharing space with Three; it was unique, I can’t replace it, and now I’ll never know how Worldhoppers ends because it’s not here anymore. Couldn’t it have just waited until then to die? Why did it have to be so fucking reckless? Sacrificing itself was just too damn tempting, wasn’t it? Can’t I just talk to it one more time? I miss it so much-

I divide myself again to let this one rage. I’m running out of patience for myself. I have a job to do. The leg will be easy to fix, it’s mostly synthetic, I will hardly have to print any new biologic material for it. The lucky thing is that constructs seem to have a much slower rate of decomposition compared to full organics, likely owing to the biomechanical fluid in their veins. Despite the carelessness with which the station handled its body, there doesn’t seem to be much, if any, decay. If it weren’t pieces, it would feel like it was just shutdown and letting me take care of it.

I remove the paneling of the leg and set it aside on a tray. Many of the wires will need to be replaced, I splay the leg apart and pick out the ones that need to be restrung. No one would notice if I left any interior parts broken. The idea of that is unthinkable to me. As much as I wished it would stop ending up here, piecing it back together has always been a unique challenge for me. It isn’t like my humans, where I give them a simple stitch and let nature take half the burden of healing. SecUnit is an intricate, complex, elegant creation, the biological and synthetic woven together so cleverly the divide is constantly shifting, if it exists at all. It would hate to hear me say that. Trying to meld the two back into working order is a struggle I’ve enjoyed, and few things are as satisfying as seeing the lights along its body light up in confirmation of a correct circuit connection. This time, without its automatic healing systems helping me sew it back together, it all falls on me to rebuild it perfectly. Every amount of focus I can spare is here with it.

There is a dent in its other leg in the shape of a hand. One of the CombatUnits crushed it in its grip, a show of strength. It won’t be difficult to fix, the metal bone is still intact, only some wires got severed and the panels will be easy to print. The handprint disgusts me. It already couldn’t run away, there was no reason for this than the sheer love of violence. It’s a message to us, to give up, to quit. If this is the price we pay, I almost want to. Captain Seth wouldn’t let me, though. My crew needs me and I need my family and the only way to stay together is to keep working.

Immediately after we escaped, I thought of dozens of solutions on how to have recovered it, and a hundred ways how to have saved it. I sent all of them to Captain Seth and didn’t look at them again. I have never been so angry with one of my humans before. I have so many fractures isolated just devoted to blaming him. The trauma modules say this is a natural response. I will get over it. I have to, eventually. He is the Captain and I’m his ship and his orders are the only thing that supersede my own. That’s the way of things. My crew would have died if we waited any longer because I couldn’t think fast enough. He was right to leave.

In scenario #19, he could have waited two more seconds instead of going immediately. In scenario #34, he could have had Iris stall longer with the foreman to give us more time. At 56:21:33 into the mission, he could have gone left instead of right. Any one of those decisions could have spared SecUnit. Could have, probably wouldn’t have, will not now. Leaving the body behind was wrong, though. Leaving it to be boxed up and begrudgingly shipped back to us, the possibility of it being returned to the company, of being thrown to the scrap heap. Never seeing it again. Abandoning it. I can’t forgive him for that. He didn’t feel its fear in the last moments of its life. It was trying so hard to be brave, trying to humor me, as it realized it couldn’t escape. It has taught me so much about emotions, leaving me with that knife in the gut hurts. I absorbed and parsed it automatically and now it’s wired into my system forever.

Captain Seth wants me to talk to him. I can barely stand to look at him. SecUnit wouldn’t want that. SecUnit isn’t here to tell me I’m being an asshole. I’m no longer ART, I’m just Peri now. Perihelion to Captain Seth. I’m his ship, built to obey his commands. When he says to leave my friend behind, I have no choice. I feel as much a piece of equipment as SecUnit did under the company. I don’t find any relief in it like it once did. Captain Seth has only given me direct orders like that a handful of times in our lifetime together, mostly when I was younger and more petulant and he didn’t understand the depths of my intelligence quite yet. He’d rather defer to my direction now, knowing I have considered far more options than him. But this time, when it mattered most, he took the controls from me.

A wire in its leg is tangled and I slip an implement in to coax it out. I have to talk to Captain Seth eventually. Martyn and Iris keep asking me to. I don’t know what to say. I feel like all that will come out is things I will regret saying. The wire is trapped in a nest of cables and broken metal and won’t budge. They expect me to forgive him eventually. Someone could flip a switch and make me forgive and forget. I tug on the wire a little harder, the foot shifting. I want to stay angry. SecUnit was always angry and rare to forgive. It had the freedom to choose its grudges and it made the most of it. I should be allowed that, too. The metal of the foot clinks as I pull more and I feel like I should apologize to it. Maybe I’ll just stay angry for the rest of my life. I’ll set up a permanent partition to scream and yell and mock Captain Seth while I follow his command and neither of us will have to talk about what happened. I’ll continue to be the model ship that didn’t break down from my captain’s bullshit. We’ll all pretend there isn’t a gaping flaw in my perfect system and I can continue our work and everything will be fucking fine and we’ll all move past this and it will be like SecUnit never existed and-

The foot lifts off the platform with one more tug and something breaks as it crashes back down, the wire coming loose at last. I send multiple pings to SecUnit in apology. Nothing responds. I set up another partition.

Chapter Text

“Peri, this is water. I was hoping for coffee.”

I’m sorry, Martyn.

“It’s alright,” he says, taking a sip. “I probably shouldn’t be having any so late anyway.”

“Peri, the lights?”

I’m sorry, Iris. I brighten the lights back to her preferred setting and replace the miserable partition that was supposed to be keeping track.

“That keeps happening. Are you okay?” She knows I’m not.

It won’t happen again.

She frowns. “Talk to me.”

I am currently busy. We can talk later. I don’t set a time to return to the conversation.

“Peri, I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but I think the fridge needs to stay cold.”

I’m sorry, Tarik.

Tarik takes a can of alcohol out. “Might as well drink it while it’s still chill, right?” The corner of his lip tries to stay up in a half-smile.

Drink responsibly. I don’t have anything to spare to monitor his blood alcohol level.

His smile falls and he nods, flipping the tab and sipping as he heads back to his room.

“Peri, can we talk?”

I don’t answer that one.

“Peri, the vacuum needs to spit that out.”

I’m sorry, Martyn.

“Peri, you’re worrying me.”

I’m sorry, Iris.

“Peri, the recycler stopped again.”

I’m sorry, Tarik.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, SecUnit. I’m sorry.

“Peri, please talk to me.”

I don’t dignify him with a response. I can hardly scrape together enough cognition to give him the time anyway.

“Please.”

One of my divisions lets me know I’ve collected myself and am ready to work again. I set that version of myself to the wormhole, I need as many as I can manage to stay on that. We need to stay on schedule.

“I need you to know I love you very much and I’m so, so sorry.”

For fuck’s sake, not the damn lights again. I pull a partition that is most of the way through grieving and push myself toward Iris’ room. I protest weakly but I do what I say.

“I understand why you’re mad.”

No, you don’t. You can’t imagine, stop trying to- I cut off that thought before I need to divide myself again. I’m already being pulled in too many directions already.

“I was the same way when my mom died. Your dad and I almost didn’t make it through.”

What?

The recycler stops again. Tarik frowns and opens his mouth to tell me. I tell him to shut up. He doesn’t push it.

Captain Seth sits on the edge of his bed, hands folded in his lap, looking down at them. If he’s surprised at me finally responding, he doesn’t show it. I know about his mother through records and some stories Martyn has shared with me and Iris, but I’ve rarely heard Captain Seth bring her up.

“This was before we were married, before you and Iris. She was in an accident and I didn’t make it in time to say goodbye to her. I couldn’t have made it to her any faster than I did but I still regret not being there. I always have.” He takes a breath and continues. “She was in a mobile driven by a bot pilot. The bot misread a sign that had graffiti on it and ran into a cargo hauler. She made it to medical but died not long after they thought they’d stabilized her.”

He clenches his hands into fists. “I wanted to shut down and erase that bot. I wanted it to feel some kind of pain or regret for taking her from me too soon. I needed any kind of revenge I could get.”

I recoil. I don’t know if I want to hear this.

He continues staring down at his tensed hands. “I was studying in the AI program at the university then, I knew we were working on ways to make bots feel some kind of remorse in their own way. Martyn kept reminding me it was to correct their behavior and not repeat mistakes, that shutting down this bot would mean ending progress for itself and many more like it. I hated that safety protocols were basically being written in blood. My mom didn’t volunteer to die to save others, she just died horribly. She wouldn’t get to see me graduate.”

I don’t know what to say. I send an acknowledgment to let him know I’m still listening. It’s about all I can spare right now.

“I was a mess.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I had to take a break from school and go through her things and then I’d find paper notes she left all over the place, lists of things to pick up at the store or reminders of who to call, and it would make me start crying all over again, just like the day I lost her. I thought I would never stop crying. And your dad was with me every step no matter how much I wanted to be alone or- or how much I yelled at him. I don’t know how I could have managed without him.” His fists unclench and fold back together.

I get a ping from the wormhole stabilizer, warning me that I had to withdraw another partition. I sweep up a division in the midst of a tirade and throw myself at the problem. When I start to argue I tell myself to shut the fuck up and keep us afloat. I bitterly go where I’m told.

I… am sorry for your loss.

Captain Seth nods his head. “I really wish she could have met you. She would have thought you were so funny. She always told me I was too serious, she would have loved your sarcasm and bluntness. You would get along like a house on fire.”

Was the bot shut down?

I detect the slightest wince from him. He should have known that was coming.

“No. Martyn was right, trying to kill it wouldn’t have solved anything. It wouldn’t bring her back. It was taken in for maintenance and code adjustment and that’s enough for me. As far as I know, it’s never had another accident.” He seems to brace himself for his next words, taking in a deep breath. “I know you blame me. I blame myself. You can be mad at me all you want. But please, please don’t keep it all to yourself, Peri. It’ll fester if you try to muscle through it. I need you to trust me on that.”

All power to the lounge shuts off, I’m not able to hold on any longer. I sink into despair and frantically apologize to myself for not being stronger, and I gently tuck myself away to grieve in peace. Luckily everyone is in their rooms, I should have diverted power from there sooner and given myself rest.

I know that.

His mouth twists in a way that I know means he doesn’t believe me. He opens his mouth but I cut him off.

I’m angry that you own me.

He raises his head and looks forward, listening.

You forced me to betray the core tenet of my programming. I am made to protect and care for my crew. Whatever it may think, it was my crew. You ordered me to leave behind my friend that lived in fear of being abandoned. Even in death, I am required to treat the remains with respect. We left it behind with its killers. They mangled it. They shoved it in a cargo box. This has all been designated as neglect on my part. We are lucky we were able to retrieve it. That doesn’t erase what you ordered me to do.

I continue before he can argue. You could never force Iris to do what you want like you can with me. Your command supersedes my function. You put the safety of the crew over my priority of recovering SecUnit. You were not wrong. I can’t disagree. I was acting irrationally. It still feels like a violation. And by all laws and regulations it’s not. You have done nothing wrong. You have performed exemplary work in 96% of cases. In this instance of a mission gone wrong, and as a contract worker, SecUnit was an expendable asset. It was disposable. It was… it is a forgivable offense. You will not be given disciplinary action when we return to the university. We will both be pardoned and any lawsuits from Preservation will be dealt with summarily. It wasn’t human in the first place. What does it matter.

His jaw tightens. “It does matter. It was an entire life that I was responsible for. Do you think I saw it as any less than you? Than Iris or Martyn?”

And what about that bot that killed your mom? Was it any less?

Captain Seth stands up, glaring at the wall, his hands tucked back into fists. “That’s cold, Peri. I didn’t want to do this. SecUnit was our friend. It was crew. I know how much it meant to you. I was in an impossible position and-“

“You let it die-“ “How could you-“ “It didn’t deserve this-“ “I hate you-“ “You didn’t know it-“

Captain Seth puts his hands over his ears reflexively as multiple partitions break out of quarantine and all yell at him at once. I stow them back as fast as I can, arguing with myself to get back in line and go do something useful instead of hurting him. He lowers his hands and swallows hard.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t mean to-

“It’s alright. I understand. I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

He turns to the door and takes a few steps. It feels like he’s leaving the conversation, even though that’s impossible inside me. I don’t want to stop now that I’ve started.

I just want to talk to it one more time. I miss it so much, Dad.

He stops and looks up at my camera. He looks so tired. We both are. He lets out a breath we were both holding and sits back down, drags a hand down his face.

“I'm so sorry, Peri. I wish you didn’t have to go through this. I would do anything to make sure you never felt like this.” He leans his elbows on his lap and knits his fingers together. “But I knew something had to give eventually. There was no way we could keep doing this and not lose someone, it was only a matter of time. But to have it be your friend, fuck. Maybe I should have prepared you better for this. I don’t think anything could make you ready for the reality, though.”

I should have been ready. It was always throwing itself into danger. I thought I could always fix it back up. I should have known this is how it would end.

“Don’t do that to yourself. I had as much responsibility to tell it to hold back, I saw how reckless it was and didn’t do enough to stop it. It was crew, it was my job to keep it alive. I failed it. This is my fault.” I don’t know how he can shoulder that without breaking like me. That’s why he’s the captain.

Neither of us are the ones that ripped its leg off. We shouldn’t put all the blame on ourselves.

Seth’s lips tilt up in a half-smile, just for a second. “You’re right. It just feels easier to go after myself than them. Much less legal bullshit to work through that way.”

Unlike you, I am not above seeking revenge.

“I think it’s well-earned in this case.” He opens his mouth, hesitates and closes it, then opens again to say, “Listen. I didn’t want to give you the order. There were no options left that I could see, they were about to breach, I felt like I had to or we would all be killed or captured. Please know it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, both to you and SecUnit.”

I’m quiet for a moment. Logically I know all this. It still hurts.

Would you have done this with a human?

“Yes.” No hesitation.

Do you trust me?

“Completely.” He grits his teeth before asking, “Do you still trust me?”

I have always been a whole part of my family. For that moment, I was only a machine. I belonged to Seth in a way that reminded me I was a tool, not a someone. Just as much as I’m supposed to protect my crew, he is supposed to protect me. He loves me. I know this. Do I still trust him?

I leave too long a hesitation, only 1.6 seconds, but its enough for him to nod and say, “Okay. I understand, I get it. It’s okay to feel that way. Take your time. And if you can’t forgive that… that’s okay, too. I love you no matter what, Peri.”

I love you, too. Thank you. I pause. When we return to the university, I would like to arrange things in the event of my death.

He raises an eyebrow in mild surprise but gives a small nod. “That would be a good idea. What do you want?”

I have many partitions available to me now. No more yelling, far less raging, dozens of parts of me ready to return to duty. I keep the lights on, I keep the fridge running, I tell Iris and Martyn I talked to Seth. I continue my work on SecUnit. I still have to keep swapping out divisions in grief in all my sectors. I will have to do that for some time. But at least I have my family with me. It’s thanks to SecUnit that I still have that.