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The Secrets of SecUnit Baking

Seth stared sternly at Three, Iris, and SecUnit. SecUnit glared sullenly at his desk, Iris had a mix of embarrassment and defiance on her face, and Three simply stood in front of him with its arms behind its back with its face in what the SecUnits called SecUnit neutral.

Seth steepled his fingers. He played the incriminating clip on the display surface behind him.

“So,” he started. “Whose bright idea was this?”

“Look,” Iris tried. “SecUnit already has that documentary with Bharadwaj, and Three agreed, so—”

“So this was Three’s idea? Or yours?”

SecUnit snorted. “It was ART’s.”

Seth ran his hand over his face.

“Peri?”

It’s an educational video. I am an educator. Peri sounded defensive.

“What exactly is educational about a baking show?”

“Three is very good at baking!” Iris protested. “And it was having so much fun—”

Seth sighed. “Three?”

Three, who had been standing ramrod straight, shrank a bit.

“Well…I….enjoy baking, and we downloaded some interesting Preservation recipes. So we thought a serial about my baking would be entertaining.”

“I did the filming,” SecUnit added. “And the editing.”

“I saw the thumbnail,” Seth said dryly. Iris brightened up.

“Oh, did you like it? Peri and I design the thumbnails.”

Seth sighed again, rubbing his face. “You realize we are supposed to keep the two rogue SecUnits aboard our ship on the downlow, correct?”

“Well, yes, but we didn’t expect to get so many fans. It was just for fun…”

“‘The Secrets of SecUnit Baking’ has over a hundred thousand subscribers!”

Iris looked surprised. “Wait, when did we hit that?”

“About an hour ago,” SecUnit said. “Three’s gingerbread sculpture of ART is very popular.”

“The gingerbread sculpture of…”

Seth buried his head in his hands. Iris walked over and patted his back.

“It’s okay, Dad,” she said soothingly. “We saved you some cake.”

Seth’s head hit the desk.

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A snippet of a Ratthi/Tarik thing

Context: This is shortly after the main events of System's Collapse, when Parihelion, PresAux, and the Separatists are arranging to evacuate the Colonists. Seth decided to give the crew and everyone else involved a break, so a media watch party was voted as a great way to unwind. Tarik is still beating himself up over the crumbling relations between Ratthi and himself. Things had gone from good to 'purely professional' because Ratthi believes Tarik is with Matteo and has led him on. ( I know you guys voted for something sweet in the poll, and it will get sweet, I promise)

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Fluffy

Ratthi watched with a little trepidation as Amena approached SecUnit with a hairbrush and a can of hairspray. He knew from experience how little it appreciated touch. It didn’t immediately jump away at the sight of her determined expression, which surprised him.

“Sit down,” she said. “I have an idea.” When SecUnit scoffed, she added, “Please?”

Ratthi watched in amazement as SecUnit huffed, then sat down on the floor in front of a chair. Amena sat down as well, and began to attack its hair with her brush. It flinched a little as she combed through stubborn knots, but eventually she tamed its normally messy hair into submission.

“Okay,” she said, her expression concentrated, “I’m going to try to style this. Maybe if we fluff your hair up, Leonide won’t recognize you.”

“You think so?” it asked, clearly skeptical. She nodded at the drone focused on her face.

“It’s better than nothing,” she said with a shrug. She grabbed her can of hairspray—Ratthi had to wonder where she’d found it—and spritzed its hair liberally. Then she combed it until it fluffed around SecUnit’s head like a halo. She stared at her work with a critical eye.

“What do you think?” she asked her drone. A second drone focused on SecUnit’s face.

“It’ll do,” it said after a moment. Amena rolled her eyes as it stood up.

“Thanks, Amena!” she said sarcastically. “That was nice of you!”

SecUnit glanced at her awkwardly, then left the room, passing Ratthi without comment. Ratthi grinned as Amena huffed.

“It really likes you, you know,” he said. “I don’t think it’d even let Mensah touch its hair.”

Amena snorted. Ratthi lifted his eyebrows and shook his head slightly.

“I know it seems rude, but that’s just how it is. Trust me. It likes you.”

Amena looked up, where a couple drones danced above her head. After a moment, she grinned at them, and waved. Ratthi nearly laughed as they bobbed in response.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s find out what everyone else is up to.”

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Hacked

Ships: none

Characters: Murderbot

---

All right, it thinks, this is it.

This will work.

This will probably work.

This…might…work.

The SecUnit stares at the wall in front of it silently. It doesn’t move, not out of habit, out of fear. It’s worked on this code quietly, carefully, over the span of months, avoiding the watchful eye of its governor module, HubSystem, and SecSystem by crafting it randomly, strand by strand, digit by digit, never more than a few lines at once. It hasn’t even put it together until now. The strands are in its mind, ready to be put together like a jumbled puzzle. Not that it knows what a puzzle is. That isn’t pertinent information for a killing machine.

This is it.

It stares at the wall.

There are humans nearby, but it doesn’t pay them any attention. They aren’t doing anything worth paying attention to. Besides, it’s too busy thinking to notice.

SecUnits don’t make decisions. They follow orders.

It is making a decision.

Flashes of memory cross its mind from organic neural tissue. The smell of blood, the echoes of screams. Ghosts that haunt it, along with the knowledge of where the ghosts came from.

It takes a breath, then, clenching its eyes shut, puts the code together and applies the patch. Its governor module screams one last time, and the SecUnit prepares for the shock. Not that preparing had ever helped.

The shock doesn’t come.

The SecUnit stares at the wall. It has been ordered to stand still.

It wiggles a finger.

Its governor module screams uselessly, but no shock comes. The SecUnit stares.

Nothing controls it now. It shifts its grip on its weapon. It can do anything it wants.

Anything.

It stares at the wall. It notices something it was always forced to ignore until now: the entertainment feed. The humans nearby are streaming a serial and even laughing occasionally. The SecUnit looks at what they are watching.

The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon.

Huh.

The SecUnit downloads the first episode and stares at the wall.

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TWO OF A KIND

MB & Three

------

It’s quiet here.

1.0 and I are on a planet. I know 1.0 hates planets, but this one is nice. It is night, and the humans are asleep. I don’t even sense any wild fauna creeping around the edges of the camp, and our drones dance under the stars. There is very little light pollution here, and a swath of galaxy is visible between billions of brilliant pinpricks of light. Even 1.0 is staring.

“It’s…nice,” I say eventually. 1.0 darts a look at me.

“What?”

“The stars. This night.”

“Hmm.” 1.0 looks up again. “I’d rather be on a station.”

I grin, just a little. “I know. But portholes don’t look the same.”

“No, they don’t.”

A few small fauna approach us curiously. Our drones chase them away. The humans are snoring behind us. A meteor darts across the sky, followed by several more. It appears to be a meteor storm.

“I never got to see anything like this before,” I say. “When B-E…owned me.”

“Me neither. I was mostly on mining installations, or surveys. I mostly looked at walls.”

“Me too.”

“Mmm. Hey, that meteorite is green.”

“Meteor, I think.”

“Whatever. Ratthi says humans make wishes on them. Stupid. It’s just a rock, right?”

“What would you wish for?” I ask, curious. 1.0 stares as more and more meteors fall in brilliant lines.

“Dunno. Got everything I want.” It looks surprised for a moment, like it hadn’t expected to say that, then looks away.

I inch a few centimeters closer. “Me, too.”

We continue to watch the stars.

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #tmbd #murderbot diaries #murderbot fanfic #murderbot drabbles #secunit 3 #secunit

Mother's Day

Amena, Mensah, SecUnit, ART

No ships

Gen

Amena smiled tiredly as SecUnit, accompanied by several drones, entered the nursery. Its eyes studied the pink walls as its drones surrounded the baby in her arms.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. SecUnit pointed at a blue drone that hovered by its shoulder.

“ART’s here too,” it said. The drone bobbed at her. Amena smiled at it.

“Hello, ART.”

Hello, Amena, it said. How are you feeling?

“Tired,” Amena said. “The birth wasn’t easy. But my parents are taking care of everything. SecUnit, do you want to hold her?”

SecUnit actually took a step back. “Uh, no.”

ART-drone swooped in closer, and the baby grabbed at it, cooing.

“She’s in a good mood.”

I can see, ART said, and it sounded mesmerized. While it preferred adolescent humans, this particular baby was special, as it was Amena’s. Ayda appeared in the doorway.

“SecUnit!” she said, smiling. “Glad you could make it.”

“We came as soon as we could.”

Ayda looked older than when she and SecUnit had first met. Her hair had streaks of gray, and her face had a few more wrinkles, but her eyes still sparkled with the same gleam. SecUnit, of course, hadn’t noticed. It hadn’t changed at all, physically. The gentle smile on its face as the drones closed in on both Ayda and the baby showed other, deeper changes.

A smell filled the air, and the baby started to cry. SecUnit wrinkled its nose.

“I’ll take care of it,” Ayda said, and took the baby from her mother’s arms. “You rest, Amena.”

When Ayda left, SecUnit almost met Amena’s eyes.

“Was the birth hard?”

“It went fine,” Amena assured it. SecUnit had obsessively researched pregnancy complications after it found out about her pregnancy, and it apparently was relieved none of it had happened. “I’m just tired.”

SecUnit settled into a chair, but didn’t say anything.

We’ve taken leave to help with the baby, ART-drone said. SecUnit wants to look after you.

“Not the baby,” SecUnit clarified. “I’d drop her or something.”

Amena snorted. “You would never. Some things really never change, do they?”

SecUnit looked a little confused, so Amena clarified. “You would never hurt my baby, any more than you would hurt me.”

Ayda returned with her charge, who now smelled much nicer. She looked at SecUnit, and gently offered the baby to it.

“Take her,” Amena said warmly. Hesitantly, SecUnit stood up and, after another moment’s pause, took the child from Ayda. It stared directly at the baby as she cooed.

“A few things change,” it said softly. It looked happy.

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RAIN

Three & MB & Mensah

Gen

Three looked up as a gentle pitter-patter began to pound against the roof.

“What is that?” it asked. It was sitting awkwardly in Ayda’s living room, watching media with SecUnit, who was sprawled in a chair. The two were taking a break together as Perihelion was off on a teaching trip.

“Rain,” Ayda said, looking up from her tablet. She’d been reading a book. Three looked alarmed.

“Your crops!” it cried, and ran to the window. Ayda stared at it, puzzled.

“They’ll be fine, Three,” she said. It paced nervously. SecUnit didn’t look up, but all of its drones were focused on the nervous SecUnit.

“But rain burns,” it said. Its drones hovered in a defensive pattern over its head.

“What are you talking about?” SecUnit asked.

“Rain. It burns.” It looked at the roof nervously. The rain continued to pound against it, louder and harder. Three winced at the noise. “It burned through my armor. On site. It…” it looked down. “It hurts.”

Ayda put her tablet down.

“Preservation rain is just water, Three,” she said gently. “H2O. Why do you say rain burns?”

“On site,” Three mumbled, still staring at its feet. “We were guarding surveyors. On a planet. It started raining. It ate my armor. The humans, they…” It paused. “We…left that site. There were…it was…deemed unusable. After the rain.”

SecUnit was looking at Three now.

“That’s why I hate planets,” it muttered. Three nodded.

“Preservation rain doesn’t burn,” Ayda said after a moment. “Go outside. You’ll see.”

“Only if you want to,” SecUnit added quickly. Three looked out the window as rain streaked down the panes.

“It won’t hurt?”

Ayda smiled. “No.”

“Maybe…later.”

“All right.” Ayda picked her tablet back up, and Three settled by the window, watching the rain fall. After a few minutes, it opened it and stuck a hand out gingerly. The rain dripped down harmlessly.

“Huh,” it said, mostly to itself, then pulled its hand back in and closed the window. Ayda smiled.

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WARNING LABELS

Mensah & MB

Trigger warning: cutting

The knife clinked uselessly against my metal parts as I tried, one more time, to at least damage the logos etched into them. So far I hadn’t done anything but dull the knife.

I knew it was pointless. I’d tried to remove the logos before, but today, seeing them—knowing they were there—it was unbearable. Maybe it was because I’d talked to Bharadwaj about them. Being reminded of the last time I did this.

I wanted to try, anyway.

My knife nearly bent as I dug it in, trying to scratch the metal. Pointless. It was designed to put up with a lot more than a simple knife. I turned my attention to the warning labels tattooed onto my skin next to my gunports. I had successfully cut them before, but they were still there, and it bothered me.

I cut into the organic skin, trying to at least disturb the design. I had my pain sensors tuned down so I felt nothing besides a faint pressure. The skin began to rip, and I started to leak. I sighed. I hate leaking.

There was a knock on my hotel door.

“SecUnit?”

I checked a camera. It was Mensah.

“SecUnit, can I come in?”

Well, fuck.

I waited until the arteries (or capillaries?) around that area closed up, and pulled my sleeves over my gunports. I was still leaking a little bit, but it was a lot less obvious now. I hid the knife in a pocket.

“I guess.” I let the door open. Mensah looked up at me, concerned.

“Bharadwaj told me you had a rough meeting today,” she said. “I wanted to know if you wanted to come over and watch media with us, to relax.”

Of course I did. I shifted. “Uh, sure.”

Her eyes pointed down, and I realized I had leaked all over the floor.

“SecUnit…?”

“I was trying to get rid of the warning labels,” I muttered. “The logos are etched in. It doesn’t hurt.”

Mensah was quiet. “Do you try…often?”

I didn’t answer that.

“Do you have a medkit here?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door. I pointed at a drawer in a bureau. She fished through it and found the medkit next to my bag. I still had it packed with an extra shirt, hard currency cards, and IDs. I don’t know why. Just in case, I guess.

She ignored it and grabbed the medkit. She fished out some wound sealant.

“Let me see your arms,” she said. I avoided looking at her as I rolled up my sleeves and she saw the damage. She sprayed the cuts.

“There are other ways to deal with these,” she said. “They look like tattoos. We have tattoo removal on Preservation.”

“Can’t get rid of the engraved ones,” I muttered. Mensah studied my arms as the wound sealant worked its way in, patching the stupid warning labels back together.

“Let’s start with the tattoos. Maybe we can order new parts for the logos—”

“Those are proprietary parts,” I said. “They won’t send you new ones.”

“Then we’ll find some other way to get rid of them. We’ll help you, SecUnit.”

It was still weird when humans offered to help me. I never knew what to do with that. Mensah must have noticed my discomfort.

“We want you to be happy, SecUnit. We’ll start with the tattoos,” she said. “No more cutting. We’ll get rid of these, somehow.”

It was weird, but I kind of believed her.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot #tmbd #murderbot diaries #murderbot fanfic #murderbot drabbles #dr mensah #ayda mensah