Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, AAA Murderbot, Canon-Typical Violence, an au retelling of All Systems Red, what if Murderbot had a starfighter, and that starfighter was actually part of it, also Murderbot is one of DeltFall's units
Published: 10 March 2022
Word Count: 57,706
Summary
Before I could even register what was going on, garbled junk data flooded my systems, overloading all my inputs and triggering a cascade failure.
I was completely scrambled; my engines flared and then cut out entirely, leaving me to the mercy of momentum and gravity. I couldn’t tell which way was up, could barely feel the air rushing past my wings and fuselage, could barely think through all my systems going utterly haywire. And now I was in uncontrollable freefall.
It had been such a beautiful day for flying.
(In this AU, the Corporation Rim is a lot more militarized - the larger corporations have carriers and super-carriers housing squadrons of SecUnits equipped with multi-purpose starfighters. For the most part though, it's a cold war - outright warfare is unprofitable, so corporations hire out some of their SecUnits (either with or without accompanying starfighters, depending how much you're willing to pay) to "protect your assets and investments from the dangers of unexplored planets or actively hostile takeovers! Don't leave yourself undefended!"
Two separate survey teams on a previously unexplored planet have both hired such protection from the company...)
(This is the new version of this story! The original version with a different scene at the end of Chapter One can be found here!)
Chapter One
I could have become a war criminal after I hacked my governor module, but then I realised I could access the combined feed of entertainment channels carried on the company satellites. It had been well over 35,000 hours or so since then, with still no war crimes committed, but probably, I don’t know, a little under 35,000 hours of movies, serials, books, plays, and music consumed. As a heartless killing machine, I was a terrible failure.
I was also still doing my job, on a new contract, currently 13,000 meters above this planet’s sea level as I flew yet another scouting patrol for my survey team, DeltFall. The weather was clear, a perfect day for flying, and I was enjoying the air time and the impressive view of the planet’s ring dominating the horizon. The majority of my sensors however were mostly focused downwards, scanning and recording the terrain I was flying over to get a more accurate, detailed map and look for anything of particular interest to my survey team.
I admit I was distracted. It was an uneventful contract so far, but I was enjoying the amount of flying time I was getting. My survey team didn’t care how long I was out for, or what else I was doing on these flights, as long as I returned with plenty of scan data for them to pore over. And with my governor module borked, I could indulge in the occasional bout of aerial acrobatics just for the simple joy of it without risking getting zapped. With no clients nearby to monitor my behaviour, it was the closest I would ever get to freedom.
I was flying high over a heavy tropical forest that flowed over deep valleys, flipping through the selection of music I’d downloaded to my own storage, when the terrain below changed suddenly and my scanners went crazy. Before I could even register what was going on, garbled junk data flooded my systems, overloading all my inputs and triggering a cascade failure. I was completely scrambled; my engines flared and then cut out entirely, leaving me to the mercy of momentum and gravity. I couldn’t tell which way was up, could barely feel the air rushing past my wings and fuselage, could barely think through all my systems going utterly haywire. (At least my wings had already been fully extended for atmospheric flight - if they'd been swung back, I wouldn't have had the aerodynamics to glide at all, and I probably would have just plummeted like a rock.)
I could only think of one thing to do - I had to shutdown and restart, and hope that purged whatever was going on with my systems, assuming I managed the ‘restart’ part of that at all. (And yes, the idea of shutting down and restarting while in uncontrolled freefall was just as terrifying as it sounded. But it was either that, or continue being completely scrambled until I impacted messily with the ground. At least if I didn’t manage the restart, I wouldn’t be awake for the impact.)
So I shut down.
I restarted.
Honestly, there wasn’t a whole lot of improvement, but at least now I could start trying to get things back under control. The restart had shut down my scanners so I wasn’t continuing to pull in… whatever corrupted data it was that had triggered this failure in the first place. I had completely lost comms so I couldn’t call for help (not that I would have gotten any in time, anyway), and I couldn’t get my engines to restart, which was a big problem. I managed to clear enough of the errors out of my code to at least get my various inputs back, and–
– oh. Oh, I’d lost a lot more height already than I thought I would have. And I’d travelled far enough that I was now out over the ocean. If I crashed into that, it’d be the end of me, for sure. I looked around desperately for anything that wasn’t water, and spotted what looked like an island in the distance somewhere off to my right. That would have to do, if I could reach it.
I still couldn’t restart my engines or get my hover mode working, but if I could settle into a more controlled glide, then maybe I’d make it. I had to take a few moments to clear out more errors before I could regain control of my flight surfaces, but once I had that, I was able to stabilise and level out. I managed to bank slightly to the right without losing too much momentum, pointing my nose directly at the approaching island. Now I just had to hope I’d reach land before I ran out of height. There was a bit of crosswind, but I didn’t fight it, I just let it push me to the side and tried to keep my speed up. At least it wasn’t a headwind.
It was going to be close, and I was going to be coming in fast. I couldn’t risk slowing down too early, that would likely end with me in the water, where I really did not want to end up. I could see my shadow beneath me, flickering across the waves below, and the planetary ring was now somewhere behind me. I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the wind rushing past me, not that there would be much to hear out here anyway, and I still hadn’t managed to access my stored media files yet.
Yes, I was trying to distract myself from my impending ‘forced landing’. No, it wasn’t actually working.
I focused on the rapidly approaching coastline, trying to figure out if I would make it. Maybe? And then I realised that there were people there. Two, as far as I could see, standing near the edge of what looked to be a large crater, and they were directly in front of me.
sh*t.
I couldn’t tell if they’d noticed me or not, but either way, they were too close to where I was going to hit. Humans were so slow, there was no way they’d be able to get out of the way in time. I jerked myself sideways, using the crosswind to give me a bit of an extra boost, and then desperately pulled my nose up as I felt the wet spray of the ocean below against my belly. Too close, too close…!
There was no chance for me to attempt to slow, and I’d forgotten to turn my pain sensors down. I hit the ground hard and fast just past the edge of the water, tearing a furrow through the sand, dirt and grass, ripping off parts of my undercarriage and scattering them in my wake–
Performance reliability catastrophic drop.
Shutdown.
Restart.
Ohhh, that hurt. Everything hurt. It took me a few moments to gather myself, turn down my pain sensors, and remember what had happened. Even with my pain sensors dampened, everything still hurt, but at least it was duller now, less immediate, and I was able to register what was going on around me.
An unknown human had managed to open my co*ckpit canopy and was leaning in, right up in my face, expression concerned. I immediately jerked away, hitting the back of my helmeted head against the headrest on my pilot’s chair. “Whoa, easy, easy!” the human said soothingly. “Relax, it’s okay, I’m just trying to help. Are you all right?”
I was hurting, disoriented, still a little scrambled from whatever had made me crash in the first place, and now some stranger was way too close for comfort and asking me questions. I was not okay at all. “I am at 74 percent performance reliability,” my buffer supplied helpfully.
That seemed to surprise the human (a quick glance at the feed (at least that was working) supplied Dr. Volescu, he/him, PreservationAux survey group), but he rallied quickly and just nodded. Behind him, someone else called up from the ground, “Volescu? Are they all right?” I couldn’t see the second human from this angle, but I was close enough that I could still access their feed ID. Dr. Bharadwaj, she/her, also PreservationAux. Good to know. (I vaguely remembered some of my DeltFall clients mentioning being in contact with another survey group on the other side of the planet, but I hadn’t paid attention at the time because it wasn’t relevant to my own job and I didn’t care. Maybe I should have. Paid attention, I mean.)
“Mostly!” Volescu called back before returning his attention to me. “You’re one of DeltFall’s SecUnits, right? Are you still in contact with them?”
I frowned behind my helmet’s opaque visor. That was actually a good question. I tried my comm, but it wasn’t working. It had cut out when everything had first gone wrong, and I couldn’t get it started again, though I wasn’t sure if that was because of the initial scrambling or damage from the crash. “My comm array is non-functional,” I replied after a moment.
Volescu frowned, but before he could say anything, the ground beside my flier exploded upwards and Bharadwaj let out a scream that was quickly cut off.
Before I could think about what I was doing, I jerked up out of my pilot’s seat, wrenching free of the connections that linked me to my flier (that really hurt), and vaulted out towards the giant worm-like fauna that had Bharadwaj in its maw. Volescu had slid down the side of my flier and was huddled on the ground against the fuselage, losing his sh*t, not that I blamed him. I was already firing both the energy weapons built into my forearms at the hostile fauna, though it didn’t seem to be having much effect. As soon as I reached it, I grabbed Bharadwaj, dragged her out, shoved myself in her place, and continued firing simultaneously down the hostile’s throat and up into the top of its mouth at full power.
I don’t know how much damage I was doing to the hostile, but it finally seemed to give up and disappeared back down the tunnel. I staggered a little on the uneven ground left behind, then went to check Bharadwaj. She was unconscious and bleeding through her suit from massive wounds in her right leg and side. I retracted my arm guns and managed to lift her into my arms. I had lost all the flight suit’s armour and most of the flesh down my left arm and part of my side, my right arm and side wasn’t much better, and the faceplate on my helmet had a spider webbing of cracks. My non-organic parts were mostly working though, and I was definitely still in better shape than the entirely organic Bharadwaj.
With Bharadwaj in my arms, clamping her suit down as much as I could to slow the bleeding, I turned to Volescu. I had to get them both to safety, but the only even remotely safe place nearby at the moment was on top of my wrecked flier. “Dr. Volescu, you need to come with me now.”
He didn’t respond, too busy freaking the hell out. I kind of wanted to do the same, but I didn’t really have that option. I hesitated for a moment before retracting the cracked faceplate of my helmet to reveal my human face. If the hostile came back and bit me again, this would probably be a mistake, but given the damage already done to my helmet, I don’t know if it would make all that much difference. I made my voice firm and warm and gentle, and said, “Dr. Volescu, it’s gonna be fine, okay? But you need to get up and climb onto my flier with me and Dr. Bharadwaj, you’ll be safe up there.”
That seemed to do it. He shoved himself to his feet, using the side of my flier for support, then followed my lead as I moved to one end of the wing where it had dug into the ground so we could easily step up onto it. I was only partially paying attention to him following me as I continued up the wing towards the fuselage; the rest of my attention was focused on Bharadwaj and trying to figure out what to do. I really wished I had access to their MedSystem, but I couldn’t get into it from here. “Dr. Volescu, are you in contact with the rest of your survey team? Are they close enough to help?”
It took Volescu a few moments to register the question, I think. He nodded shakily and said, “Yes… yes. They’re on their way, but I don’t know when they’ll get here.”
That was a relief, somewhat. But Bharadwaj needed assistance right now. “All right. Dr. Volescu, I need you to do something for me, okay?” I asked, still making sure to keep my voice calm and reassuring. “There’s a compartment in the back of the co*ckpit that has an emergency medical kit. Can you get that for me please? I need to maintain pressure on Dr. Bharadwaj’s injuries.”
The thought of being able to do something to actually help seemed to galvanise Volescu and snap him out of his shock. He took a deep breath and nodded again, then moved past me to get to the co*ckpit. I carefully sat down on the wing and settled Bharadwaj into my lap, upping the heat of my body in an attempt to keep her warm. My education modules were lousy and I usually had a MedSystem to tell me what to do in situations like this, so I was feeling very out of my depth right now.
Volescu returned with the med kit, and with a bit more gentle prompting from me, he was able to get it open and working. It was no MedSystem, but it at least had instructions we (well, mostly Volescu, I still couldn’t risk letting go of Bharadwaj) could follow. I wasn’t feeling too good myself, but Bharadwaj was definitely the priority here.
Then the sound of an approaching hopper caught my attention, and I watched it come in almost recklessly fast before slowing at the last moment and settling on the ground near the flier. “Dr. Volescu, is this your survey team?” I asked. He looked up from what he was doing with the med kit and let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, that’s them.” He quickly picked up the med kit and stood up, and I awkwardly levered myself to my feet as well (something in my back and torso wasn’t working quite right, but I didn’t have time to run a diagnostic), still holding Bharadwaj close. We hurried back down the wing and towards the hopper, where the door was already open and other people were waiting impatiently. I tried to close my helmet up but the damage was preventing the cracked faceplate from sliding back out again. Ugh, that was just what I needed.
As we got close, two of the waiting people got out, one of them helping Volescu up the ramp. I hesitated at the base of the ramp, unsure of what to do. SecUnits weren't allowed in the main cabin of hoppers unless specifically ordered, and if I’d had a working governor module, letting these people take me too far away from my flier would fry me. But if I let go of Bharadwaj, even after the work Volescu had done with the med kit so far, she would likely still bleed to death before they could do anything.
The choice was taken out of my hands when the other human (feed ID: Pin-Lee, she/her) waved me forwards impatiently. “Come on, bring her in!” I followed her up the ramp and into the hopper, keeping my head down so I didn't have to look at anyone. Some of the hopper's seats had already been unfastened and moved out of the way, so I sank down to sit on the floor with my back against the inner bulkhead, settling Bharadwaj into my lap again. I felt the hopper take off as soon as the door slid shut, again moving almost recklessly fast.
Volescu had collapsed into one of the remaining seats and handed what was left of my med kit to one of the other humans. The hopper also had a med kit of its own, so they used both of them to try and get Bharadwaj stable. I followed their instructions, holding and clamping things when needed, trying to keep my failing body temperature up to help keep Bharadwaj warm, and ignoring my own performance reliability gradually ticking downwards. I could feel something in my back leaking, probably from where the hostile fauna had made a very spirited attempt to bite me in half. My flight suit wasn’t as heavily armoured as standard SecUnit armour, and I was regretting that right now.
To distract myself from the disconcerting leaking and the way the humans kept glancing at me with various expressions of concern and horror, I started working on slipping into their feed without anyone noticing so I could eavesdrop on anything they might be saying there. I also took note of everyone else’s feed IDs; Dr. Ratthi and Dr. Overse were helping Dr. Arada tend to Bharadwaj, while Pin-Lee was sitting with Volescu and trying to be reassuring. I couldn’t see into the hopper’s co*ckpit from here, but the feed informed me that a Dr. Mensah (the survey group’s leader) was piloting. The feed was mostly quiet for now, probably because everyone was busy.
Arada eventually sat back on her heels, absently wiping her hands on her thighs. “All right, that’s about as much as we can do here,” she said out loud, as Ratthi and Overse began packing up what was left of the emergency med kits. “Bharadwaj is as stable as we can get her, but we’re going to need to put her into MedSystem as soon as we land.”
[Understood,] Mensah replied over the feed. [Gurathin has prepped MedSystem and is waiting at the entrance with a gurney. We’ll be landing in a minute.]
I took a moment to carefully slip into the hopper’s systems so I could use its scanners to get a look at the habitat we were approaching. It was much smaller than DeltFall’s habitat, only seven interconnected domes set on a relatively flat plain with a narrow river valley nearby. Tall, skinny trees dotted the plain, but they didn’t offer much cover for anything that might try to approach the habitat, which I approved of. I could see someone waiting by the habitat’s main entrance with a lift gurney, presumably the previously mentioned Gurathin.
The hopper landed much more gently than it had set down by my flier, and I eased back out of its systems and focused on standing up again while still holding Bharadwaj as carefully as possible. I had to brace my back against the hopper’s bulkhead behind me (I really didn’t want to think about the smear of blood and fluids I was probably leaving behind), but I managed to get to my feet without looking like I was struggling with it. I was still keeping my head down, avoiding looking at anyone else as I followed them out of the hopper and gently set Bharadwaj down on the waiting gurney. Then something pinged me unexpectedly, startling me enough that I almost extended my arm guns.
Another SecUnit, one with PreservationAux logos alongside the company logos on its armour, had just gotten out of one of the hopper’s smaller cargo compartments. Of course this survey group had a SecUnit of its own, ugh. That really wasn’t something I needed to worry about right now, especially with my performance reliability continuing to drop. But I couldn't ignore its ping - if I did, it would give away that I was a rogue. If the other SecUnit figured that out, it would have to report it to its HubSystem and its clients, and then it would probably try to kill me. (I really didn’t want that. I hated having to fight other SecUnits.) So I responded to its ping with one of my own.
Fortunately, after that initial ping it didn’t try to communicate with me, and I definitely wasn’t going to try to communicate with it. (SecUnits can’t trust each other in general, and I can’t trust other SecUnits in particular. I have too much to hide.) It went about shutting down the hopper properly, while all the humans bustled off with Bharadwaj's gurney and disappeared into the habitat.
I remained standing where I was, because even with my pain sensors turned all the way down, I still hurt all over, and I didn't know what else to do. The humans hadn't told me to follow them, or given me any other orders, and a governed unit in this situation wouldn't have followed them without prompting. (Technically a governed unit in my situation would have already been dead, their brain fried to a crisp by their governor module for breaching the distance limit to their flier. But never mind that.)
The other unit finished shutting down the hopper and approached me. I was half expecting it to attack me - even if it hadn't figured out I was rogue, I was still a unit from another contract, and if it knew anything about units with fliers then it would know that I should be dead, and since I wasn't dead then that meant something was wrong with me, which would make me a potential threat to its clients. Given my current damage, if it did attack me, I wouldn't be able to do a whole lot about it other than get killed messily.
But it didn't attack me. It just came to a halt at the appropriate distance that protocol dictated SecUnits should normally stand from humans, then pinged me again. I pinged it back, and tried to keep my expression neutral. (I was really missing my opaque faceplate right now. Without any of my drones, I had to use my own eyes to watch it, and it could see me doing so.)
Since we weren't on the same contract, we couldn't talk to each other without going through our respective HubSystems. (Which I couldn't do anyway, since I wasn't in range of my own HubSystem.) If it tried, it would get punished for breaching protocol. So we just stood there in awkward silence for six point three seconds, which felt like six hours. I could feel something slowly sliding down my back. It was very distracting.
Then the other unit spoke. "Thank you for your assistance."
I was so surprised, I actually blinked. Technically, the other unit hadn't spoken to me, it had just triggered one of its buffer phrases. I recognised the tone and wording, of course - it was a phrase I had in my own buffer, after all. That was clever - it wouldn't set off the governor module by just using buffer phrases. And it was… thanking me? What for? Saving Bharadwaj and Volescu, maybe? I wasn't sure. Did it actually like these humans? Was it just grateful that it wouldn't have to deal with humans who were angry/upset/afraid that one or two of their own had been killed? Or maybe it was just glad it wouldn't have the deaths of any clients on its record, even though it hadn't been in a position to help them anyway. (Its humans shouldn't have been so far apart in the first place, but I was very used to clients ignoring our suggestions about staying together for their own safety.)
I didn't have any buffer phrases for responding to thanks. SecUnits don't get thanked. SecUnits aren't shown gratitude. So all I could do was ping it in acknowledgement.
It pinged me back, then used another of its buffer phrases. "Do you require assistance?"
I had to think about that. Did I? I mean, kind of, I guess, but I didn't know how it could help me in the first place. It couldn't use its cubicle on me, that's not how these contracts worked. I'd need to get back to DeltFall's habitat to use my own assigned cubicle. And I had no idea how I'd get back there in the first place. It was on the opposite side of the planet, and my flier was wrecked, and not even anywhere nearby. I didn't know if or when I would see it again.
After another three point two seconds I realised I hadn't actually responded to the other unit's question. I couldn't think of how to answer, so I just pinged it again. My temperature controls had given out entirely at some point, and I was getting cold.
It pinged me back, its opaque faceplate staring blankly at me. Then it resorted to its buffer again. "Please follow me to safety." It turned and started towards the habitat entrance, then paused to look back at me.
Oh. Okay. It wanted me to follow it.
Well, it's not like I had anything better to do. I mean, I could have just stayed standing outside until my performance reliability dropped low enough to send me into an emergency shutdown, but that seemed kind of stupid, especially when I was being given an alternative.
So I began following it. It was more difficult than I’d expected to get myself moving again. I slowly trailed after the other unit into the habitat, trying to keep from stumbling, and doing my best to ignore the feeling of whatever it was continuing to slide further down my back.
The other unit led me to the Security ready room, where its cubicle and all the other security equipment was kept. I followed it inside, the door sliding shut behind me, and then I just stood there. It was kind of crowded with both of us in here - with the PreservationAux contract apparently only having one SecUnit, the ready room in this habitat was much smaller than the one at DeltFall.
"Please hold," its buffer said as it went to one of the storage lockers and began rummaging inside it. I vaguely wondered what it intended to do, but by this point I was too tired to care.
When it turned to face me again, it was holding wound sealant in one hand and the extra human-rated medical kit kept in Security ready rooms in case of emergencies in the other.
… Did it intend to use them on me?
Its buffer said, "Please remain calm while I administer first aid."
Oh. It did actually intend to use them on me. I didn't know what to think about that. Had its humans ordered it to? Why would they bother? Maybe it was acting on its own initiative, but that didn't make sense either. I wasn't even a part of its current contract. But we were still from the same bond company, so maybe—
Performance reliability at 39% and falling.
Emergency shutdown initiated.
Chapter Two
I woke up.
That was, honestly, something of a surprise. Most of my systems were still offline, slowly cycling back up, so I remained still and silent while I waited for everything to reinitialise. As far as I could tell, I was lying on my back on some kind of… bed, and was no longer wearing my flight suit. I wasn’t cold though, which was… nice. Unusual, but nice. My performance reliability was back up into the eighty percent range, which was a lot better than it had been. This latest shutdown also seemed to have cleared the last of the errors and corrupted data from my systems, and I was feeling better, more alert. I hadn’t even realised how badly off-kilter I’d been until I wasn’t.
More of my systems were coming back online, and I carefully insinuated myself back into the PreservationAux team’s feed. I was being extra cautious now that I knew they had their own SecUnit, but if I hadn’t been able to hide my feed presence from other units, I would’ve been scrapped long before now. I considered trying to get into their SecSystem as well, but while I had plenty of practice hiding my activities within a SecSystem I was actually registered to, I hadn’t yet tried to hack another contract’s SecSystem. Given the presence of the other SecUnit, it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take just yet. Maybe later, if I was around long enough to bother.
According to my chronometer, it had been approximately ten hours since I’d had my emergency shutdown. I checked their feed, but for the most part it was quiet. It seemed most of the humans here were taking a rest period at the moment. There was at least one still active though, the one tagged Dr. Gurathin. He seemed to be using the feed to look over the survey package files, and I could tell from his presence in the feed that he was an augmented human. He also seemed to be very close by. Now that I was paying more attention, I could hear breathing nearby, and I could smell the distinctive sharp disinfectant scent of a medical bay.
Ah. Well, that explained where I was and why I was feeling better, at least. The PreservationAux humans had apparently used their own MedSystem to patch me up better than what the other SecUnit would have been able to manage with just a first aid kit. That was… unexpected. MedSystems weren’t meant to be used on SecUnits. They must have operated it manually to get it to work on me properly. I didn’t know what to make of it.
I considered staying inert, but my systems were all back online and I really wanted to know what was going on. Even if it meant talking with a human. I just wished I had my helmet to hide my face - I’d have to do without for now.
I blinked a few times, then slowly sat up and looked around. I was, as I’d thought, in the medical bay, and… I had a blanket covering me. I’d never gotten to use a blanket before, and I stared at it in honest bafflement for two point six seconds. Who gives a SecUnit a blanket? Why had they given me a blanket? It wasn’t to keep me warm, the medical bay’s temperature controls were doing that just fine. Then I realised that not only was I no longer in the remains of my flight suit, they’d also removed what was left of my ruined suit skin.
Ah. That explained it. I found myself suddenly, surprisingly grateful for that simple blanket as I pulled it back up to my shoulders.
I didn’t have time to think about it much though, because my movement had caught Gurathin’s attention. He eyed me with possibly even more suspicion than before, then tilted his head slightly towards me. “You’re awake, finally,” he commented abruptly. “How are you feeling?”
"I am at 83% performance reliability and holding steady," I replied evenly like a good SecUnit with a functional governor module would. I glanced around again, noting the bay next to mine had its privacy screen activated, and I remembered what had gotten me here in the first place. “Is Dr. Bharadwaj all right?” The question came out before I could think about it. I honestly don’t know why I asked that, it wasn’t something a SecUnit with a working governor module would ask.
Gurathin seemed a little taken aback by the question. He squinted at me for a moment, then slowly nodded. “She’ll make a full recovery,” he replied. He regarded me for a few more seconds, and I resisted the inexplicable urge to pull the blanket up a little higher. “Do you remember what happened? Why you crashed, how you got here?”
I paused briefly, not long enough for a human to notice, to figure out what to say. "I was doing a recon flight for my survey team when I encountered an anomaly while scanning,” I started carefully. “The anomaly caused me to malfunction and crash. An unknown hostile fauna attacked two of your teammates while they were trying to render assistance. I drove off the hostile fauna and provided what aid I could until further help arrived, accompanied them here, then suffered a performance crash and system shutdown." I paused for a beat, then let my buffer add, "Thank you for your assistance."
Gurathin nodded stiffly, his brow furrowing as he continued to watch me. I shifted my gaze slightly to look past him and at the wall behind him so I didn’t have to see him watching me. “This anomaly - can you tell me any more about it?”
I went back over it more carefully, trying to figure out what exactly had gone wrong. “I was doing a full terrain scan when it occurred,” I started, a little distracted as I analysed what data I had left of the incident. “I’m… not sure, but I think I must have scanned something that interfered with my systems. My scanners pulled in all this scrambled, junk data that I couldn’t process and it triggered some kind of… cascade failure.” It wasn’t fun remembering what had happened, and I hoped Gurathin wouldn’t ask me for any more details.
He let out some kind of thoughtful noise and was silent for a few moments. “Do you have the coordinates of where you encountered the anomaly?”
He wasn’t actually one of my clients, so I didn’t have to answer his questions, even if I had a working governor module, but old habits die hard. “Not exactly, I lost those in the cascade failure. I do still have the route I was on before that though.” That should be more than enough to figure out the general area, at least.
Gurathin nodded and activated a portable display surface, using it to put up a map. “Can you show me where?”
I hesitated for a moment, not sure if my scouting routes counted as proprietary data to DeltFall or not. But I really wanted to figure out what had made me crash. I finally decided that inputting only the last few minutes of my route wouldn’t cause any harm, and sent the coordinates to the display surface to show on the map.
Gurathin either didn’t notice or didn’t bother commenting on my hesitation, and just eyed the coordinates carefully before letting out a little grunt. “Thought so.” He sat back in his chair and went back to watching me silently. It was making me nervous, but I couldn’t think of anything to do or say. I just did my best to keep my expression SecUnit neutral. Finally, Gurathin broke the silence again. “The warning data and entry on the hostile fauna that attacked Bharadwaj was deleted out of our survey package, and six sections of our satellite map are missing.”
I blinked and looked at him again, surprised enough that I couldn’t quite manage to hide it. “How? Why?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. If their survey package had been tampered with, had DeltFall’s been tampered with as well? Were there other hostile fauna we didn’t know about? And why was he telling me about it?
Gurathin shrugged. “We don’t know yet.” He paused for a moment, then added, “One of those missing map sections was right in the path of your scouting route though.”
Huh. I went back to looking at the wall behind Gurathin as I thought. Was the missing map section linked to what caused me to crash? Most likely. But was whatever was there that had made me crash responsible for the map sections being absent in the first place, or was something else going on? I didn’t have enough information to figure it out. It was frustrating.
“We contacted DeltFall to see if they could send us the missing files,” Gurathin continued abruptly after several seconds of uncomfortable silence. “Their maps are also missing those sections.” That wasn’t exactly reassuring, but I didn’t have much time to think about it because Gurathin added, “We also let them know about your crash and that you’re with us now.”
Oh, sh*t.
DeltFall definitely knew about the range limit between myself and my flier, and they would know that my governor module should have fried me by now. They’d be suspicious, at the very least. Had they said anything to PreservationAux about it? If so, what? I couldn’t tell what my face was doing, but I was out of practice controlling my expressions and it was absolutely doing something. I ducked my head to stare down at my lap, hoping futilely that Gurathin wasn’t paying too much attention. It wasn’t a normal thing for a SecUnit to do, but it was either that or hide under the blanket, and that would’ve been a lot more unusual.
“They seemed surprised,” Gurathin continued, his tone neutral. “But they said that they’re fine with you staying with us until we can figure out how best to get you and your flier back to them.”
I didn’t know what to make of that. Maybe DeltFall thought my governor module had simply glitched due to whatever had caused the crash in the first place, and weren’t too worried? Maybe them being okay with me staying here was actually them being more okay with me not being near any DeltFall clients until they’d figured out what was going on? No matter the reason, it was pretty much guaranteed that once I was back with DeltFall, they’d examine my governor module, and find out that it wasn’t working.
And then they’d tell the company.
… I was doomed.
I could go on a murderous rampage, but the PreservationAux humans hadn't done anything to me to deserve that. Quite the opposite, really. Even the DeltFall humans hadn't; this had honestly been one of my nicest contracts in a long time. I'd gotten to fly just about every day, and the DeltFall humans had otherwise left me alone to watch my media in peace. Plus there were the other SecUnits to contend with, and without any armour of my own, I wouldn’t get far against them. A murderous rampage wouldn't accomplish anything. I was trying to think of other options when I was suddenly swamped with a wave of I don’t care.
It took a tremendous effort to stay still and not let my shoulders slump or my posture sag. Honestly, it was a minor miracle that I’d managed to keep my broken governor module hidden for so long in the first place. The company finding out eventually was inevitable. “Thank you for that information,” my buffer supplied with polite neutrality. I briefly considered starting up an episode of one of my favourite serials, The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon, in the background, but even that felt like too much effort.
Gurathin let out a soft noise that I didn’t know how to interpret. There was silence for several long seconds, but I didn’t bother looking up at him again - no doubt he was still watching me, like he had been ever since I woke up. I was considering just starting another recharge cycle when he asked, “Are you all right?” He didn’t sound as gruff as he had before.
I had no idea how to react to that. My buffer saved me from yet another awkward silence though and replied, “I am currently at 82% performance reliability and holding steady.”
“That’s gone down from before,” Gurathin commented, his tone suspicious. “Shouldn’t that be going up? Did we miss something in your repairs?”
I ran a brief diagnostic, more for something to do than anything else. “My own repairs are adequate,” I said after checking the diagnostic results. “My flier however is still damaged.”
“That affects your performance reliability?” Gurathin sounded honestly surprised, enough so that I finally looked back up at him. I recalled that the PreservationAux habitat hadn’t had a hangar or a landing pad for a flier, only the hoppers, so their own SecUnit obviously didn’t have a pilot upgrade module and they weren’t familiar with how it worked.
“It does,” I replied. “My flier is an integral part of me, even when I’m not connected. I won’t be able to get my performance reliability much higher until I can recover and repair it.” That wouldn’t be easy. I might not be able to fly again until the company transport arrived to pick us all up, and then… I tried not to think about it.
“Noted.” Gurathin’s expression had gone thoughtful, and I noticed him opening a connection to Dr. Mensah in the feed. [Dr. Mensah? The DeltFall unit is awake, and it seems safe enough.] Hah. Showed how much he actually knew about me. [It appears that its crash was caused by one of the blank map patches, like we thought. It also needs to repair its flier before it’s back to full functionality. Did you want me to ask it about anything else?]
[No thank you, Gurathin,] Mensah replied. [I’ll be there in a minute, I’d like to talk to it myself.] Great. Just what I needed, another human talking at me.
Gurathin sent an acknowledgement and returned his attention to me, his thoughtful expression settling back into a slight frown that seemed more habitual than anything else. “Dr. Mensah, our survey leader, will be here soon. She’d like to talk to you as well.”
“Acknowledged,” I replied, making sure my expression was back to SecUnit neutral as I resumed looking at the wall to the side of Gurathin’s head. Gurathin was still watching me; I wished he’d stop.
A minute or so later, the door to the medical room opened and Dr. Mensah walked in. She had dark brown skin and short, lighter brown hair; I couldn’t tell how old she was, but she couldn’t have been that young or she probably wouldn’t have been in charge. She smiled at Gurathin as she entered, then turned her attention - and her smile - to me. “Hello,” she greeted me warmly. “I’m Dr. Mensah, captain of the PreservationAux survey team. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
Well, that was odd. Nobody had ever said anything like that to me before. I managed to keep the surprise off my face though (I think), and gave her a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Mensah. Thank you for your assistance.”
“You’re most welcome,” Mensah replied, still smiling at me in a way nobody ever had before. “Thank you for saving Dr. Bharadwaj and Dr. Volescu. We’re all very grateful.”
I almost never got thanked for saving people, either. These PreservationAux people were weird. “I was just… doing my job,” I replied, fixing my gaze on the wall behind Mensah’s head and resisting the urge to fidget.
“Bharadwaj and Volescu aren’t your clients though,” Mensah said. “From what I understand of SecUnits and your contracts, you had no obligation to help.”
I shrugged; I had no idea where she was going with this. “It’s my job to protect humans.” This was making me uncomfortable, so I tried to change the subject. “What happens now?” Good work, Murderbot, that wasn’t obvious at all. I glanced at Mensah briefly to see that she was regarding me with a thoughtful look, then fixed my gaze back onto the wall. I missed my drones.
Mensah was quiet for a moment, probably trying to figure that out herself. “Well, we’re planning on going out to that blank map area in a few hours to take scans and samples, see if we can figure out why it’s blank, why your flier crashed, and if there’s anything there we should be worried about,” she replied finally.
“Don’t scan it with your hopper,” I said before I could think about it. “If it pulls in the same data I did, it’ll probably crash too.”
“Noted,” Mensah commented, a touch of dryness in her tone. They’re scientists, Murderbot, of course they’ve already thought of that. “Given the missing files from our survey package though, I don’t feel comfortable leaving the habitat undefended while we’re gone, but I also don’t want to go out there without any security, either.” Uh oh. I thought I could see where this was going. “Since DeltFall has given their permission for you to stay with us for now, I was wondering if you would like to come out with us? We can check your flier on the way, and if you think it’s possible, we could take the big hopper instead of the small one and use it to bring your flier back here with us.”
Would I like…? Nobody ever asked SecUnits anything even close to ‘would you like’. These PreservationAux humans were really weird. Still, it was an opportunity to get back to my flier, one that I couldn’t pass up. If I could somehow manage to fix it, then maybe… “Security and retrieval protocols suggest that this is an optimal course of action,” I replied with deliberately typical SecUnit neutrality. It would be out of character to show any enthusiasm. “The standard specifications of the larger hoppers indicate that it has the capacity to airlift my flier.” Something else occurred to me then though. “But… I don’t have my flight suit or armour.” That wouldn’t make providing security impossible, just more difficult and risky.
“Your flight suit was ruined, and we don’t have the specs here for the recyclers to print you a new one. I’ve checked with our own SecUnit though, and it has spare armour that you can use, if you like,” Mensah reassured me.
Again, that, ‘if you like’. I was actually starting to get a little curious about these humans. It was becoming more obvious that they weren’t from the Corporation Rim. “That would be appreciated.” Even the mere thought of finally being able to put on a helmet and opaque the faceplate was such a relief, it made my performance reliability tick up a quarter of a percent.
“That’s settled, then,” Mensah said with an air of satisfaction. “We’ll be heading out in a few hours. In the meantime, feel free to make yourself comfortable here.” Hah, comfortable, right. I’d never been around anyone else who cared about a SecUnit being comfortable. I just nodded in response.
Mensah gave me another warm smile, patted Gurathin’s shoulder, checked on Bharadwaj, then left. I waited until she was gone, then moved to get off the medical bed. The blanket slipped, and I froze for a moment, indecisive. I really didn’t want to walk around with all the joints between my organic and inorganic parts exposed, but I also didn’t want to just sit here either.
Gurathin was still watching me (I really, really wished he would stop), and he raised an eyebrow at me before saying, blandly, “You can take the blanket with you for now.” He seemed almost amused. Asshole. I wasn’t going to refuse the offer though so I just stood up, wrapped the blanket around myself with as much dignity as I could muster, and walked out.
He got up and followed me, probably to make sure I didn’t wander off somewhere or something, I don’t know. The layout of this habitat was pretty standard, so I knew where the Security ready room was and made it there without running into anyone else, Gurathin still ambling along behind me. sh*t, was he going to keep watching me the entire time I was here? I didn’t know if I could handle that for much longer.
In the Security ready room, someone (probably the other SecUnit) had laid out a fresh suit skin and a set of armour, ready for me to put on. Gurathin had stopped at the door and was leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, his back to me in a disconcerting display of… politeness? Modesty? Maybe he just didn’t want to see me without armour or the blanket either. I couldn’t blame him. I put the blanket aside and pulled on the suit skin, then started with the armour. Once I had the helmet on and opaqued the faceplate, I felt so much better. Even though it had been a long time since I’d last worn full armour instead of a flight suit, it was still comfortably familiar, and I could feel the organic parts of my back and shoulders relaxing.
I gathered up the blanket again, then cleared my throat. Gurathin glanced over his shoulder at me. “Should I… take this back to the medical bay?” I asked, gesturing slightly with said blanket. Normally I wouldn’t even think of volunteering to tidy up anything (I was a SecUnit, not some kind of cleaning bot), but I’d been the one using the blanket in the first place, and it seemed… unnecessarily rude to just leave it lying around.
Gurathin squinted at me slightly, then shrugged and moved out of the doorway. “Sure. What are you planning to do after that?”
I was planning to find a nice peaceful corner to stand in and watch my stored media until they were ready to leave, but I couldn’t say that. “I should run a full diagnostic and recharge before we head out,” I replied as I started back towards the med bay. That’d give me a good excuse to stand around and not move for a while.
Gurathin grunted. He followed me again, then commented casually, “I’ll be watching some media in the main living area, if you want some… background noise or something while you do your diagnostic.”
I almost stopped in my tracks to look back at him, but resisted the urge. What was up with these humans? Was he inviting me to watch media with him? No way, that couldn’t possibly be it. It was more likely some subtle (or not so subtle) hint that he didn’t want me wandering off out of his sight. Which, fair enough. I wouldn’t trust another contract’s SecUnit wandering unsupervised around my habitat either, and he was probably getting tired of trailing after me. I just replied, “Acknowledged,” before depositing the blanket back on the MedSys bed and following Gurathin to the habitat’s main living area.
It was cleaner than the ones back at the DeltFall habitat, but that was probably because there were far fewer people here to make a mess in the first place. I went to stand in a corner that had a good view of the display surface, just in case Gurathin decided to watch something that was actually interesting. He went to one of the couches, dropped down into it, activated the display surface… and started up an episode of Sanctuary Moon.
Huh. Well, it was a popular serial, and one of the most commonly found ones on company satellites, so I guess it wasn’t that odd of a coincidence. It was one of the better episodes, too. Not one of my favourites, but good enough. So I stood in my corner, ran my diagnostic, and watched Sanctuary Moon until it was time to go.
Chapter Three
(cw: canon-typical violence/death)
We got ready to leave at the beginning of the day cycle, in the early morning light. The humans mentioned that the satellite weather report suggested that it would be a good day for flying and scanning. My own assessment of the local weather agreed. It would’ve been a great day for me to go flying. I tried not to feel too bitter.
I helped to carry some of the equipment out to the big hopper, then stood by one of the cargo pods out of habit. But Mensah invited me into the cabin with the others, which caught me by surprise and made me a little nervous. Perhaps they were only doing this because I wasn’t their SecUnit and they didn’t feel comfortable ordering me into the cargo pod, but I wasn’t about to ask. I was grateful for the opaque faceplate of my helmet hiding my expression as I followed her into the hopper. At least nobody tried to talk to me.
Mensah headed to the co*ckpit, indicating that I should take the co-pilot’s seat next to her. That was a little comforting, at least, even if it wasn’t my own flier and I wouldn’t actually be the one piloting. Even though the hopper’s autopilot was flying, and Mensah was in the pilot’s seat with her hands on the controls, I still stealthily insinuated myself into the hopper’s systems, just in case.
Which was just as well when the autopilot suddenly cut out as we were heading towards a mountain range.
I reflexively corrected the flightpath even as Mensah frowned and began to correct it herself. When I realised what she was doing, I relinquished the hopper’s control back to her and hoped she hadn’t noticed my reaction. Insinuated with the hopper’s systems as I was, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what had gone wrong - it looked like their HubSystem had glitched and shut down the autopilot remotely. I briefly considered reporting the glitch to her, but that would give away that I’d infiltrated their systems, so I remained quiet. Mensah had control of the situation anyway, so it would (probably) be fine.
Mensah made sure the hopper’s flight path was stable, then glanced over at me. “The autopilot just cut out,” she murmured to me. “Do you think that was caused by one of those blank map patches?”
I took a moment to check our current coordinates, just in case, then shook my head. “I don’t believe so,” I replied just as quietly. “We’re not close enough yet. According to my records, I was almost directly above the target area before the scans affected my systems.” I paused briefly, then added, “I recommend that we land the hopper outside the blank section’s perimeter and head in on foot to investigate, just in case.”
Mensa’s brow furrowed, then she nodded. “Agreed.” She paused for a moment - I could see her checking her map in the feed - then glanced over at me again. “Do you want to stop by your flier on the way in, before we try to pick it up on the way back?”
I blinked in surprise (once again, thank you, opaque faceplate), then tilted my head slightly towards her as I replied. “I would appreciate that - it has some equipment I would like to retrieve before we investigate anywhere, and I need to pull a full damage report so I can assess whether it’s safe to transport and what repairs are needed.”
Mensah nodded again. “All right, we’ll stop by there on the way.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “I just hope the giant worm doesn’t make a reappearance.”
I also didn’t want the hostile fauna coming back for round two. “It will be safer if you avoid landing the hopper altogether, and just hover low,” I advised after a moment’s thought. “I’m capable of deploying from a height, and if I stay on my flier, I should be able to avoid attracting the hostile fauna’s attention. You can come in for a quick pick-up once I’ve retrieved what I need.”
“That’ll work,” Mensah agreed after brief consideration. “Good idea. We’ll do that.”
I didn’t normally care about humans one way or another (they were usually just annoying or tiresome or an outright pain (literally and figuratively) to deal with), but Mensah actually listened to my advice, unlike most humans I’d been contracted to in the past. I was starting to like her, just a little.
We reached the area where my flier had gone down shortly afterwards, circling the hopper over the crash site a few times as we scanned for any signs of hostile fauna nearby. From above, the torn-up furrow of sand and dirt and grass scattered with the ripped-off plating that my flier had left behind as it skidded over the ground was much more obvious, and I couldn’t help but wince slightly. Now that we were this close, I could feel my flier much more clearly, a not-so-distant ache in the back of my mind. It was uncomfortable, but it was also reassuring, in a way. At least I could still feel it at all.
Once we were confident that no hostile fauna were lurking anywhere nearby for now, Mensah piloted the hopper low and held it steady just above the wreck. I had already moved to the hatch, and once we were in position, I dropped out and landed lightly on the fuselage. The hopper rose to a safe distance and resumed circling in a wide, lazy arc, presumably still scanning to provide warning if anything approached.
My flier's co*ckpit was still open, and I could see dried patches of blood and fluids smeared on one wing, standing out starkly against the white surface. I headed across the fuselage to the co*ckpit and was about to drop down into it when I realised my mistake. Without my flight suit, I didn’t have access to the spine ports to establish a full link. I needed the full link to pull a complete damage report though; I’d disconnected too quickly earlier when the hostile fauna had come bursting out of the ground. At least it didn’t take me too long to shed the top half of my armour and peel down the underlying suit skin. (Hopefully the humans couldn’t see me too clearly from where they were.) That done, I dropped down into the familiar comfort of my pilot’s seat and initiated the links.
My pain sensors were already turned down as low as they could go, but they still flared hotly as I settled into my larger self. Alerts and errors and damage reports filled my awareness; some from the physical damage of impact, others from the original glitch and corruption that had caused the crash in the first place. I cleared as many of the errors as I could manage, then pulled a full damage report as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to spend too long here tempting fate (and hostile fauna).
The damage report wasn’t good, but it wasn’t actually as bad as I’d thought it would be. I’d been low enough when I’d hit that I hadn’t dug too far into the ground, but more skidded over the top of it. My underside was trashed, my landing gears were shot, and the leading edge of the wing that had dug into the ground would definitely need fixing up, but the core structural framework was still sound. I wasn’t sure if I could get myself flying again without proper repairs, but I could probably get the hover mode working… if I could fix up the fried power connections.
I didn’t have time for that now though, the humans were waiting. I disconnected with some reluctance and took a moment to re-calibrate before quickly pulling my suit skin back up and replacing my armour. That done, I opened the interior storage compartment and retrieved my projectile weapon and my collection of drones. Once I had everything, I signalled the hopper, and it came back down to pick me up.
When I boarded the hopper, I noticed the humans inside (Arada, Pin-Lee, and Ratthi) casting what I interpreted as wary and/or nervous glances at the large projectile weapon I had slung over my shoulder. It made sense that they would be uneasy around a gun like that being carried by a SecUnit that technically wasn’t under their control, so I stowed it in an overhead rack before heading for the co*ckpit again. (I also surreptitiously activated one of my drones and left it perched on top of said projectile weapon, just in case anyone tried to touch it. I did not want anyone messing with it, or attempting to shoot me with it.)
By the time I settled back into the copilot’s seat, Mensah had already gotten the hopper airborne again and on its way. She glanced sideways at me briefly before looking back at the controls. “Did you get what you needed?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you.” I was a little busy using the drone I’d left on my gun to eavesdrop on the quiet conversation between the humans in the main compartment of the hopper, so I didn’t offer any more information. From what I could hear through my drone, they were relieved that I hadn’t taken my gun into the co*ckpit with their survey captain (which, fair enough), and then they started speculating on just how my flier actually worked in conjunction with me. Well, there could be worse things they could be speculating on, I guess.
Mensah was silent for a little while before she asked, “So, how badly is your flier damaged?”
“Not as badly as I was expecting, but I don’t know if I will be able to repair it myself,” I admitted reluctantly. “It would be easier if I had some of the repair drones that are at DeltFall’s habitat. Or if we could just get my flier back there in the first place.” The main problem was, DeltFall’s habitat was literally on the other side of the planet. The small hopper wouldn’t even be able to go that far, while the big hopper would take half a cycle to cover that distance, and probably wouldn’t be able to carry my flier as well all that way. I doubted the PreservationAux humans would bother with a cycle’s return trip just to pick up repair drones for me. “We shouldn’t have any problems using the hopper to get it back to your base, at least.”
Mensah nodded and fell silent again, her brow furrowing slightly in thought. I was just starting to relax a little when she spoke up again. “Would it be all right if I asked you a few questions?”
I hesitated. Technically, she wasn’t my client, so even if I’d had a working governor module, I probably wouldn’t have had to answer anything she asked. But it felt rude to turn her down, and I had to admit, I was curious about what she would ask. For a human, she was surprisingly not difficult to talk to. “Go ahead.”
“I don’t know how much you’d know about PreservationAux, if anything,” she started carefully. “We’re a non-corporate polity, so we haven’t had much experience with the Corporation Rim, and we’re unfamiliar with SecUnits in general. This survey is the first time we’ve had any interaction with them. I was wondering if there’s… any differences between you and our own SecUnit? I mean, apart from the obvious, that ours doesn’t have a flier.”
That was easy enough to answer. “Functionally, aside from said flier, there’s no difference whatsoever,” I replied. “We’re both standard SecUnits at base, with the same specs and programming. I’ve just been upgraded with the ARD modules.”
“ARD?” She glanced over at me, one eyebrow raised.
Oh, right. Of course she wouldn’t know what that was. “Aerial Reconnaissance and Defence,” I clarified. “I can perform long-range scans and scouting for a survey team, and provide aerial support and firepower against potential hostiles or raiders if necessary.” You know, assuming I haven’t gone off and crashed, anyway.
“Ah.” Mensah nodded thoughtfully. “So aside from this… ARD module, you’re functionally the same?”
She seemed to be trying to… get to some point? Figure something out? I couldn’t tell, and it was making me even more nervous. But I could also see the opportunity to make things a little easier for myself, if these people were as unfamiliar with SecUnits as they claimed. “For the most part, yes. Although having the ARD package does give me more operational freedom than standard SecUnits without it.” That was mostly a lie, but hopefully one that would keep any of these PresAux humans from asking awkward questions about governor modules and whether mine was functional or not. Hopefully. DeltFall likely already suspected me, but again, they were on the other side of the planet, and if I could get my flier working…
“Operational freedom?” Mensah sounded curious. “Could you give me an example?”
“Sure. My governor module doesn’t have a distance limit, for example. It would be pretty counterproductive if my ability to scout was limited to a tiny fraction of the planet.” That was another mostly-lie. My governor module did have a distance limit - or would have, anyway, if I hadn’t hacked it. It was just set to my flier, and not my clients. If it had been working, it would’ve fried me as soon as I’d gotten more than five hundred meters away from my flier. (That would have given the PresAux humans a nasty shock on the way back from the encounter with the hostile fauna, that’s for sure. I really hoped they never found out about that.) My flier also had its own distance limit from the base I was assigned to for a contract, but the distance on it was dependent on the size of the planet or operational zone. It was mostly just to stop me from flying off into space or something stupid like that.
“That makes sense.” Mensah fell silent again; she seemed to be thinking over what I’d said, or maybe what else she wanted to ask me. I considered starting up an episode of Sanctuary Moon in the background, but I didn’t want to get interrupted if she asked me something else. It was a good thing I hadn’t, because a minute or so later she glanced over at me again, taking a breath as though she wasn’t sure if she actually wanted to speak. “Does this operational freedom also let you… be more talkative?”
Okay, what the hell kind of question was that? I was glad I had my faceplate opaqued still so she couldn’t see my surprise and bafflement. Had I been talking that much? I didn’t think so - I’d just been answering questions and occasionally providing advice. (Which was actually listened to, for once. That was nice.) That was what their own SecUnit should have been doing. Had they just not bothered to ask their SecUnit anything before? Was their SecUnit half-assing its job even more than I usually did? It couldn’t be, not if its governor module was still working, and the chances of it being another rogue unit was… well, really, really low. Ridiculously low. It couldn’t be that - they probably just hadn’t been talking to their SecUnit.
“... It shouldn’t,” I finally replied with careful neutrality after a pause that was probably long enough for even a human to notice. I was even more nervous now; I didn’t know why she was asking or what she was trying to get at. In desperation, I checked our location, then resisted the urge to let out a breath of relief. “We are approaching the blank map zone. I recommend that we land no closer than fifty meters away from the edge, and proceed on foot.”
Mensah blinked and checked the map in her feed. “Right, right.” She didn’t ask me any more questions, much to my relief, and just focused on finding a good landing spot.
As she began bringing the hopper down to land, I got up and went back into the main compartment to retrieve my projectile weapon and wait by the hatch. As the SecUnit, it was my job to exit first and make sure the area was secure before the humans disembarked. As I came in, the other humans abruptly stopped talking mid-conversation. That was awkward. I did my best to ignore them as I retrieved my projectile weapon and accompanying drone from the overhead rack, then went to stand beside the hatch. Mensah was still bringing us down slowly and carefully, so I had time to review my drone’s recording of the past few minutes of conversation that I’d interrupted.
Ratthi: I wonder how Volescu’s doing with the SecUnit back at base?
Arada: I hope he isn’t making SecUnit too uncomfortable. I still feel bad that we basically ignored it all this time…!
Ratthi: Me too. We’ll just have to make up for it now that we know. We should try to talk more to the DeltFall unit, too! It must be feeling pretty adrift, what with everything that’s happened and being stuck away from its own clients.
Pin-Lee: Just don’t push too hard, Ratthi. I don’t think any SecUnit is going to be very familiar or comfortable with people suddenly trying to be friends with them. Take it easy, all right?
Ratthi: I know, I know, I will. I just wish we could do more to help them–
That’s as far as they got before I walked in and they cut themselves off. I had no idea what to make of it. What. Just… what. Why were these humans wanting to talk to SecUnits? The thought of anyone even trying to be friends with a SecUnit was absolutely laughable. Or would have been if it didn’t make me exhausted simply thinking about it. I made a note to try and keep myself busy enough that they wouldn’t attempt to talk with me. That was the last thing I needed right now.
The hopper landed gently, and as soon as the hatch opened and the ramp lowered, I made my way out with my projectile weapon held at the ready, releasing my drones to scout the area. Recording visual and audio should be fine, as long as they didn’t actively try to scan anything. Hopefully. I moved carefully away from the hopper, as if giving anything that might be lurking nearby a chance to attack me, and surveyed the area.
We’d landed in a clearing amongst the trees of a tropical forest, the ground sloping gently downwards towards an open plain. My drones fanned out around me, making sure nothing was lurking in the undergrowth as I signalled an all clear to the humans on the hopper and began walking towards the plain. According to the map data, the blank patch began roughly around the area where the edge of the forest met the plain.
I moved slowly, letting the humans catch up once they’d left the hopper and closed it up. They were carrying a collection of scanning and sample collecting equipment, but none of them asked me to help them with it. Probably because I looked like I was busy doing security things, which I was.
I paused when I reached the last of the trees, and took a moment to get a better look at the plain. There was a lot of bare rock, dark and shiny like volcanic glass, lying in low ridges and tumbled boulders. They were interspersed with a scattering of lakes and small copses of trees. Close up, the rocky patches looked like smooth black glass, with swirls and whorls of different colours running into each other. It was a strange place, oddly quiet compared to some of the other places I’d been to on this planet. Something about it made me feel a little weird. (Maybe the weird feeling was related to whatever had made me crash. Maybe it was just in my head.) There was no sign of animal movement and very little noise from bird-things. The sky was clear, the early morning light provided good visibility, and there weren’t any glaringly obvious threats.
We headed further out into the plain, the humans following my lead as I scouted ahead and around us with my drones. Since we hadn’t been able to do any scans with the hopper, I had to check for hazards manually. Mensah had already set a survey perimeter, and within that I marked any hazards I detected on the map in the feed. The humans were surprisingly good at paying attention to and avoiding the areas I’d marked, which was a nice change from other surveys I’d been on in the past.
They began taking readings with their portable scanners, and collecting samples of rocks and dirt and plant matter. I continued scouting around, sending some of my drones further out while leaving others to monitor the humans. I made my way past a couple of the little lakes, half-expecting to see something under the surface of the still water. Dead bodies, perhaps. I’d seen plenty of those (and caused plenty of those) on past contracts, but so far this one had been pleasantly dead-body-lacking. It was another nice change.
The morning passed surprisingly uneventfully. They weren’t having much luck getting useful readings with their scanners, but they also didn’t seem to be getting the same junk-data that had messed me up. Maybe their scanners just weren’t strong enough to reach whatever I’d been able to scan with my flier’s much more powerful equipment. Maybe their portable scanners just, as Pin-Lee put it, “sucked corporation balls”. (I was glad I’d borked my governor module when I heard that, otherwise I would have been forced to defend the sh*tty company equipment, whether I wanted to or not.)
Finally, they’d gathered all the samples and readings they could, and Mensah told us to head back to the hopper. It was something of a relief - even keeping myself busy scouting (and watching Sanctuary Moon in the background) hadn’t let me shake the weird feeling this area gave me. I used some of my drones to lead the way back to the hopper while I brought up the rear, keeping myself out of easy conversational distance. (I hadn’t forgotten the discussion on the hopper, and I didn’t want to give them any opportunities to try talking to me.)
Once we got back to the hopper, I recalled my drones and waited hopefully by the cargo pod. Again, Mensah gestured for me to accompany them into the main compartment. Ugh.
At least I was still allowed to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, and this time Mensah didn’t ask me any more questions while we were flying. I was able to relax a little and focus on the episode of Sanctuary Moon I was up to, which went a long way to help settle my nerves. When we got back to my flier, Mensah held the hopper steady overhead while I used the hopper’s carrying cables to hook my flier up to it. I then spent the rest of the journey back to the PresAux habitat in the familiar comfort of my flier’s co*ckpit, though I didn’t bother shedding my armour to link up. It was such a relief to not be in sight of humans for a bit that my performance reliability actually climbed half a percent.
We made it back to base without incident, much to everyone’s relief. Mensah manoeuvred the hopper over an open area of ground beside the hoppers’ landing pad a little distance away from the habitat and slowly, gently, lowered my flier to the ground. I barely even felt a bump when it touched down, and my appreciation for Mensah went up a little more. For a human, she was a good pilot.
I quickly unhooked my flier from the carry cables, and Mensah landed the hopper. I packed up the carry cables as I waited for the humans to leave the hopper, retrieved my projectile weapon from the main cabin and slung it into place on my back, then went back to my flier. I retrieved the small maintenance toolkit from its storage compartment inside my flier, then climbed up onto the top of it. With the landing gears trashed, I couldn’t really get to the damage on the underside, but that wasn’t where I needed to focus first anyway.
I sent out several of my drones to form a perimeter around my flier, then got to work. I had to remove some of the panels on the fuselage to get to the links connecting the power cells to the rest of the flier. According to the diagnostics I’d pulled earlier, most of those links were damaged, which was why my engines wouldn’t restart - they couldn’t get enough power. If I wanted to be able to get my flier off the ground again, I needed to fix those links.
Even as I worked, my drones let me monitor what else was going on around me. The humans had taken their survey samples and portable scanners back inside the habitat, presumably to analyse their findings, but Ratthi had come back outside and was regarding my flier and my drones with open curiosity. Ugh. I made sure to position myself so my back was to him as I worked. I did not want to invite conversation, especially not while I was trying to concentrate on the inner workings of my flier.
Fortunately for me, Ratthi was distracted from whatever attempts to talk to me he had been planning when the other SecUnit walked into view from around the side of the habitat, presumably on patrol. It sent me a ping, and I automatically pinged back. (I still didn't know what to think of it, or how it had tried to help me.)
Ratthi waved the SecUnit over, and it obediently diverted from its patrol path to walk over to him. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and focused more of my attention on what I was doing. I didn’t want to watch or listen to a weird human attempt to converse with another SecUnit, that was just going to be awkward for everyone involved.
I finally managed to reach the damaged links leading out of my flier’s power cells; they didn’t look good at all. As far as I could tell, the initial data corruption had caused a major power surge that even the shielded links hadn’t been able to handle. Every one of them was fried, and I’d have to outright replace most, if not all of them. At least the power cells themselves seemed undamaged, but this wasn’t going to be a quick fix, and I had no idea where I would get replacements from. Maybe I’d be able to use this habitat’s recycler to print some? I’d have to ask later. For now, I focused on carefully removing the damaged links one by one, occasionally checking my various drone inputs.
At some point Ratthi had apparently talked the other SecUnit into retracting its faceplate and helmet, and Ratthi was talking animatedly while the SecUnit listened with what looked like genuine interest. I could’ve listened in, but I didn’t care enough to put in the required effort or attention. Especially not when my drone saw the other SecUnit actually smile at whatever it was Ratthi was telling it. I’d never seen another SecUnit smile - I’d never had any reason to smile myself, either. What the hell. I was swamped by an intense wave of some unidentified emotion, freezing me in place, but it was gone before I could even begin to figure out what it was.
In its wake, I just felt exhausted. My performance reliability had dipped two percent, and I had to take a minute to just lean my helmeted head against the edge of the opening into my flier’s inner workings. I didn’t even know why I was feeling anything in the first place. I didn’t care about the humans, or other SecUnits, or humans being nice to SecUnits. All I cared about was flying and consuming media. (And not letting anyone find out about my borked Governor Module, but that was probably going to be a moot point soon.)
I backburnered that particular drone input and resumed removing fried links. After taking out each one, I had to check the connection points to make sure they hadn’t been damaged too. I’d also started some music playing in the background as well - I didn’t have the attention to spare for an actual serial, but music gave me something soothing to listen to that wasn’t going to distract me from my work.
I only had a couple of links left to go when I got another ping from the other SecUnit, and it startled me badly enough that I almost dropped my drone inputs. I pinged back, then pulled the backburnered drone input up just in time to see Ratthi, still standing beside the other SecUnit, waving in my direction. Oh great, what did they want now?
“Hey, uh… DeltFall SecUnit?” Ratthi called. “Do you need any help with what you’re doing?”
I sat up from where I’d been leaning over to reach into my flier and turned around to face him. “I do not require assistance, thank you,” I let my buffer reply - it sounded a lot more polite than I could probably manage myself at this point.
Ratthi’s brow furrowed in thought and he tilted his head a little. “What are you doing right now, anyway?” he asked curiously.
Great, my buffer didn’t have anything for that. “I am removing non-functional components,” I replied as evenly as I could. “The links leading from my flier’s power cells to the rest of the systems have been damaged by a power surge. I need to replace them to restore power flow.”
Ratthi was watching me closely, and I held myself still. At least I had my opaqued faceplate, so he couldn’t see my expression. (I had no idea what my expression even looked like right now, but it most likely wasn’t SecUnit neutral.) “Do you have the parts to replace them?” he asked.
“I do not have any available to me right now,” I replied, trying not to sound as put out by that as I felt. Oh well, I was probably going to ask the PreservationAux humans this at some point anyway, might as well be now. “I was planning on asking if your recycler would be able to print replacements once I had finished determining how many I would need.”
“Oh, we should be able to do that!” Ratthi replied cheerfully, then paused for a moment. “Uh, well. I think so, anyway, maybe? Depends on what exactly you need, I guess. Do you have one there I can have a look at?”
I nodded and went through the ones I’d removed already, looking for the one that was the least damaged. Once I had it, I dropped back down to the ground and headed over to Ratthi, keeping him between me and the other SecUnit as I held the link out to him. He accepted it carefully, needing both hands to hold it, and began examining it with obvious interest. “I’m no technician,” he commented absently, “but even I can see that this got pretty badly fried. I’d have to check with the others to see if our recyclers could manage something like this.” He looked back up at me with a bright smile, and I shifted my gaze to look past his shoulder. (Then I had to shift it again to avoid looking at the other SecUnit as well.) “But hey, since you’re here now, you two should talk, get to know each other!”
Ohh no. No, thank you, no. No. I had to resist the urge to take a step back, and even though I wasn’t looking at it myself, my drone still picked up the moment of consternation that flashed across the other SecUnit’s face. “SecUnits on different contracts are not allowed to talk to each other without going through our respective HubSystems,” I informed Ratthi evenly. There was no need for me to mention that I also wasn’t in range of my own HubSystem at this point.
He blinked, disbelieving, then looked at the PresAux unit. “Is that right? You can’t even talk to each other?”
It nodded. “That is correct,” it replied, its voice soft and pleasant. It looked young (not that its appearance really meant anything. SecUnits had our organic parts regrown on a regular enough basis that we showed no physical signs of ageing - we always looked young), and right now its expression was bordering on rueful. It flicked a glance at me, then looked back to Ratthi. “The thought is appreciated though.”
Oh no it is not, not by this murderbot. I didn’t say anything though, and just tried to think of how I could go back to my flier without making the other SecUnit suspicious.
Ratthi handed the fried component back to me (he was probably just getting tired of holding it), then patted the other SecUnit on the shoulder. I really hoped he didn’t attempt that with me. “Well then, we’ll just have to figure out some way around that!” The mere thought of that was exhausting, and my performance reliability dropped another half point. “But first - do you have a name? It feels really awkward just calling you ‘DeltFall SecUnit’.”
It was obvious which of us he was talking to, so I couldn’t really get away with not answering. “No,” I replied, trying not to sound snappish or bitter. “SecUnits don’t have names.” Technically, I did have a name, but it was private. I had absolutely no intention of sharing it with anyone.
Ratthi let out a huff and planted his hands on his hips. “That’s just inconsiderate. We’ll have to come up with something to call both of you. Do you have any preferences?”
I was thankfully saved from having to think of how to reply when the main door to the habitat slid open and Mensah emerged. “What are you doing, Ratthi?” she asked in a way that sounded calm but somehow also hinted that Ratthi was not actually meant to be doing whatever it was that she thought he was doing.
Ratthi offered her a sheepishly disarming smile and hesitated for a moment before inspiration seemed to strike him. “I was asking the DeltFall SecUnit what it needed to fix its flier! It needs to replace a bunch of power cell links - do you know if our recycler could print those?” He gestured to the component I was still holding.
Mensah raised an eyebrow at him, but seemed content to go along with it for now. “I see,” she murmured dryly before turning to face me. “May I have a look?” I held the component out for her; she didn’t take it, but she looked it over carefully before nodding. “If you have the right schematic, our recycler should be able to handle that. How many will you need?”
“I’m still checking that,” I admitted. “From what I’ve seen so far though, I’ll probably have to replace all of them.”
Mensah made a little clicking noise with her tongue against her teeth, then gestured for me to join her as she headed towards my flier. “Let’s get confirmation on that then so we can start making those replacements.” I walked beside her with a feeling of relief. “Ratthi, don’t you have work you should be doing?” she commented casually over her shoulder.
My drone saw Ratthi grimace a little guiltily. “I’ll get right on that,” he replied before looking back to the SecUnit still beside him. “Would you like to help me analyse samples?” he asked it, and I rolled my eyes behind the safety of my opaque faceplate. Analysing samples sounded almost as boring as staring at walls.
Mensah and I reached the side of my flier, and I jumped back up onto it to reach the last couple of links I needed to remove. It didn’t take me long to look over them and confirm that they’d need to be replaced as well. I was about to say as much to Mensah, still waiting by the side of my flier, when I heard a startled yelp of pain from Ratthi.
I quickly looked over; Ratthi was lying sprawled on the ground where he’d landed after the SecUnit had apparently slammed him into the habitat wall. Its helmet was back up, its faceplate closed and opaqued, and it was unslinging its projectile weapon and aiming it squarely at Mensah–
Oh, sh*t.
I leapt off my flier and landed between Mensah and the other SecUnit, just in time to catch the projectiles meant for her in the lower left side of my back. It was a good thing that I was wearing armour and still had my pain sensors turned down, and even better that they hadn’t been explosive projectiles. The impacts still staggered me a little but didn’t stop me from sweeping Mensah up in my arms and bolting around the end of my flier to put it between us and the suddenly, inexplicably murderous SecUnit.
“What–” Mensah gasped, shocked and confused.
“Your SecUnit is trying to kill you,” I told her flatly as I put her down in the shelter of my flier - I was watching it through my drones, and it was heading our way fast. I had no idea why, and I didn’t care - I was too angry. “Run for the hopper, get inside, take cover.” I unslung my own projectile weapon just as the other SecUnit came barrelling around the end of my flier, already firing at us. Explosive rounds this time. I couldn’t dodge - Mensah was still behind me - so I had to take the hits to protect her. (I was even more grateful that I was in proper armour and not just my flight suit right now.) Luckily the other unit hadn’t had time to aim accurately, so I was able to power through them as I launched myself towards it, returning fire.
I was focused and coldly furious. These humans had been decent, even kind, and here it was trying to kill them. Trying to kill its own clients, the people it was meant to protect.
I had to put it down hard enough that it’d never get back up again. I had to kill the sh*t out of it.
I’d set my own weapon to fire explosive bolts as well, and my aim was much better than its was. I hit its gun, damaging it, then its arm, making it drop the weapon, leaving its torso clear for the cluster of shots I landed in its midsection, blowing a ragged hole in its armour. It returned fire with the energy weapons in its forearms, but those mostly just pissed me off even more than I already was.
Then I was in point-blank range and firing another cluster of shots into its already-compromised midsection. There was a messy spatter of blood and fluids, and the smell of burnt organics, wiring and insulation. The other murderbot staggered backwards and dropped limply to the ground. I wasn’t taking any chances though and kept firing, making sure to hit the primary power cells and other vital components within its torso.
I only stopped when my scans showed no more signs of life or function, and my gun was clicking on empty.
Then I just… stood there. I was still furious - at it, at myself, at the humans, I didn’t know - and I didn’t want to do anything else until I’d calmed down a bit. I was also starting to register the damage I’d taken as well. I was missing chunks of armour and organics from my left bicep, right thigh, and right side just above the hip where explosive bolts had hit me. I still had the projectiles lodged in my lower left back, although it felt like a couple of them had popped out already. Several energy blasts had scored the armour across my chest and left shoulder, and the organics in those areas were burned and throbbing painfully.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I still had humans to look after, but I had no idea how they would react to me now. They would probably be terrified - their own SecUnit had just hurt one of them and tried to kill their survey captain, and then gotten messily killed by a SecUnit from another contract entirely. The fury dissipated abruptly and I just felt drained and empty. Only years of habit let me sling my weapon back into place (ow, sh*t, injured back and shoulder, right) instead of just dropping it on the ground.
“Are you all right?”
I didn’t react abruptly even though the unexpected words startled me, and I just used my drones to watch Mensah instead of turning around myself. She had made it to the shelter of the hopper but was now approaching me cautiously, looking concerned and shaken. A couple of my other drones could see Arada and Overse hurrying out of the habitat to go tend to Ratthi.
What was it with these humans asking if I was all right? I didn’t understand them. “I am at 58% performance reliability,” my buffer provided helpfully.
“That’s… well, that could be worse, I guess,” she replied, a little awkwardly. “And… what about the other one?”
“That unit has ceased functioning,” I let my buffer respond again. I wasn’t in the mood to say anything myself.
“I see.” Mensah had stopped a little distance away, her gaze flickering between me and the deactivated unit at my feet. She seemed… uncertain about something. “... You are the DeltFall unit, right? I’m sorry, but it’s… hard to tell, with you both wearing the same armour.”
Of course it was. There was no difference in our heights or builds or anything else other than the random DNA used for our organics. Our voices differed, if you were paying attention, but our buffers didn’t. It was a valid concern, especially after one of us had just tried to kill her, and it just made me more tired. I simply turned around and nodded at her, then retracted my faceplate and helmet so she could see my face. It was probably making some kind of expression right now, but I was too tired to care.
Mensah let out a breath and relaxed slightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, then visibly collected herself, standing up straighter. “Let’s get you to Medical. We can deal with everything else once you’ve been treated.”
That was fine by me. I set most of my drones up on a perimeter around the habitat (someone had to run security on the area now), then followed her inside and to Medical. By the time we reached it, Arada and Overse had gotten Ratthi there as well, and MedSystem was tending to him. (Bharadwaj was also still recuperating in Medical, but was currently awake and asking what had happened.) Apparently Ratthi had suffered a dislocated shoulder and a concussion from the other SecUnit slamming him into the habitat wall, but given the damage that SecUnits could do if they were actually trying, he’d gotten off lucky. Very lucky.
I moved off to one side of Medical, out of the way, put down my weapon, and began shedding armour on autopilot. Most of my attention was on the episode of Sanctuary Moon I’d started playing to make it easier for me to ignore the way Arada and Overse were shooting me wary glances. I’d also set some alerts to look for keywords in the PreservationAux feed I’d hacked into and then backburnered it - I didn’t want to know what they were saying right now. I didn’t want to listen to the shock and confusion and anger and speculation about what had just happened. I was too tired. I’d check it later, maybe, if something came up that made it seem worth the effort.
Once I’d stripped down, I sat up on the MedSystem bed to let it start scanning me, and Mensah came over from where she’d been checking on how Ratthi was going. “Will any of your injuries need MedSystem to be manually guided?” she asked me quietly.
I waited for MedSystem to finish its scan, reviewed the results, then shook my head. “No.” I resisted the urge to grab the folded blanket resting at the end of the bed - I wanted to hide, but the blanket would only get in MedSystem’s way.
Mensah regarded me for several uncomfortable seconds. I kept my own gaze lowered, not wanting to make eye contact, as MedSystem started delicately plucking the embedded projectiles out of my lower back. “All right,” she replied, her voice soft. “Let me know if you want or need anything, okay?”
What I wanted was to be left alone so I could watch my serials and pretend I didn’t exist for a while. But what I needed took priority. “... I need to replace all the power linkages in my flier, and put my armour and suit skin in the ready room reclaimer for repairs,” I admitted. The sooner I could get my flier fixed up, the better. And having my armour ready to put back on as soon as I was out of MedSystem would be ideal.
“I think we can take care of that for you,” Mensah reassured me, her hand reaching out briefly as if she was about to pat my knee before she hesitated and withdrew again. I was glad that she hadn’t actually touched me, but I wondered why she’d pulled back. Then I decided that it really didn’t matter.
She went over to check on Ratthi again - MedSystem had fixed up his shoulder and treated the concussion, but was still recommending that he remain for observation for a while. He was a little loopy from painkillers. She then got Arada and Overse to help her carry my armour and suit skin away, presumably back to the ready room. The door to Medical slid closed, and left us in peace and quiet. It was a relief. I sank into my media and tuned out the rest of the room. With my pain sensors turned down, the discomfort from MedSystem treating my injuries was tolerably distant.
I’d made it almost halfway through one of my favourite episodes of Sanctuary Moon when Ratthi stirred in his recovery bed, shifting a little until he could sit up enough to look over at me. I wasn’t paying attention to him though, and only realised what was happening when he cleared his throat and said hesitantly, “Um… SecUnit…?”
I didn’t move - MedSystem was working on the messy hole in my right side - but I activated one of my drones and positioned it so I could see him more clearly. “Yes?” I didn’t want to have any kind of conversation right now (or at all), but Ratthi looked upset. I found myself reaching for a MedSystem I didn’t actually have access to, then realised there was now nothing stopping me from getting said access. It wasn’t difficult to slip into PreservationAux’s SecSystem, convince it I was meant to be there, and then get access to HubSystem and MedSystem from there.
MedSystem told me that Ratthi was showing signs of emotional turmoil and distress, and helpfully suggested sedatives. Thank you but no, MedSystem. As tempting as that sounded, that probably wouldn’t help in the long run. And Bharadwaj was currently asleep, so she couldn’t help right now either.
He fidgeted, glancing between me and my drone, and looked like he wasn’t sure what to say next. I thought he might ask me what had happened, or if I was all right, and I didn’t know how I’d answer either of those. But what actually came out when he finally found his voice again was, “Was it my fault?”
“What?” I hadn’t been expecting that, and it threw me enough that I responded reflexively, sounding just as surprised as I actually was.
“The other SecUnit attacking, trying to kill Mensah,” Ratthi got out in a rush, twisting his hands together in his lap. “Did I do or say something wrong? Did I upset it?”
How the hell was I supposed to answer that? I managed to prevent my buffer from going, “I don’t have that information,” and tried to think of how to respond. I regretted not shutting down for these repairs, or at least not pretending to shut down. It was too late now.
“I don’t think so,” I replied after a pause that was hopefully not long enough for Ratthi to notice. “You were being kind to it. Probably kinder than anyone else has been to it in its entire existence. You got it to smile.” I did my best to keep my voice calm and reassuring, and not let the jaded bitterness I was feeling come through. “If anything, you probably saved yourself. If it hadn’t liked you, you’d be dead right now, not just concussed.”
Ratthi winced and paled slightly. Good job, Murderbot, reminding the human just how f*cking dangerous murderbots are and how close he came to being killed by one was a fantastic idea. I should have just let my buffer reply, it was obviously smarter than I was. I unpaused my episode of Sanctuary Moon, resolving to keep my mouth shut and not say anything else that would just make things even worse. Ratthi remained quiet as well, much to my relief, and I went back to ignoring everything but the ongoing drama between Sanctuary Moon’s colony solicitor and their bodyguard.
A short time later, the door to Medical slid open, and Mensah came back in again, her brows furrowed slightly. “I think we have a problem,” she started, her voice calm but her shoulders tense. “We can’t contact DeltFall Group.” That definitely jolted me out of my media, and I felt a surge of… something. Panic, maybe. Ratthi made a startled little sound as well, even as Mensah continued. “Have you heard anything from them at all, SecUnit?” she asked me.
“No.” Why would DeltFall have dropped out of contact? It couldn’t be anything good. “I need to get back there.” But to do that, I needed to fix my flier, and I couldn’t do that while stuck in Medical. MedSystem wasn’t finished with me yet, but the worst damage had been tended, and I didn’t care about the rest. I ordered MedSystem to stop and slid off the treatment bed.
Mensah looked startled. “What are you doing? You’re still hurt!”
“I need to fix my flier so I can get back to my clients,” I replied, more sharply than my governor module would have tolerated if it had still worked. “I can’t do that from here.”
Mensah opened her mouth as if she was about to argue, then snapped it shut again and just nodded. “Right. The recycler should be almost done with your replacement parts by now, and your armour should be ready too,” she said instead, her voice and face once again calm. “While you work on your flier, we’ll figure out who’ll go with you in the big hopper and what we’ll need to take.”
I was already halfway to the door when she said that, and I stopped dead in my tracks. “What? You can’t – why?” I was so confused. Why would they want to come with me halfway around the world? That was going to be an overnight flight at the least with their big hopper, which was nowhere near as fast as my flier. (Although if I couldn’t fix my flier fully, I’d probably have to go more slowly anyway, so maybe that would be a moot point.)
“If anything has happened to DeltFall Group, we want to help,” Mensah replied firmly. “They might have been attacked by aggressive wildlife like we were, especially if their survey package was missing potential hazard info like ours is.” She paused briefly, then added, more gently, “And we don’t want you to be alone. Just in case.”
I had no response for that. So I said nothing, and after a moment’s hesitation, I left Medical. What the PreservationAux people decided to do was entirely up to them. I couldn’t stop them from endangering themselves, no matter how much I might have wanted to.
I spent the rest of the day cycle working on my flier’s repairs, while the humans planned and prepared for their own trip. Every now and then one would go past my flier to get to the big hopper, to stow extra supplies or check the systems or whatever else it was they were doing. I ignored them, as well as the conversation going on in the feed. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the potential things that could have gone wrong at DeltFall.
At least replacing the fried links successfully restored power to my flier without any further trouble, much to my relief. Fixing the damage to the wing was trickier, and I wasn’t confident about how well my jury-rigged repairs would hold up under anything beyond straight, easy flying. I probably wouldn’t be able to go much faster than the hopper after all. My flier’s underside and landing gears were a complete write-off, but at least nothing vital was there. I patched up what I could just so I wouldn’t lose any more pieces mid-flight, then did a quick test flight to make sure there were no major problems. It was such a relief to be back in the air once more that my performance reliability went up a full two points.
By the time I was done with the test flight and had made some slight adjustments to the repairs, the humans were also ready to leave. Which was just as well, because I had no intention of waiting for them. I stowed my projectile weapon and the upper half of my armour in my flier’s storage compartment, peeled down my suit skin to expose my spine ports again, settled back into my flier, then followed the PreservationAux hopper into the sky.
Chapter Four
(cw: canon-typical violence/death)
We flew through the night, with me taking the lead and the hopper following behind and off to one side to avoid my wake turbulence. My repairs seemed to be holding well enough for now, but I definitely wasn't keen on pushing myself much faster than what the hopper could manage. The patchwork job on my underside felt especially flimsy (and drafty), and I hoped I wouldn't need to do any fancy flying on this trip.
Mensah had given me access to the team's feed and comms (not that I actually needed said access, since I'd hacked into them already, but she didn't know that), so we could communicate if we needed to. I was half-listening to the humans on board the hopper discussing their scans of the new terrain past their assessment range (we were making sure to give any missing map patches a wide berth), half-listening to my own music playlist, and fully trying to avoid thinking about what we might find when we actually reached the DeltFall habitat. (I wasn't having much success with that last part.)
Apart from Mensah, the other humans who had come along on this trip were Overse, Ratthi and Pin-Lee. There had been some argument about Ratthi joining us, what with his recent stint in Medical, but MedSystem had given him the all-clear and he'd insisted that his expertise as a biologist could prove necessary if people were hurt or the habitat had been attacked by hostile fauna. Pin-Lee had come because she had previous experience in habitat and shelter construction, and Overse was a certified field medic.
All arguably useful, and yet none of them had any real experience in potentially dangerous situations like the one we were probably heading into. None of them were action-hero explorers like the ones in the serials I enjoyed watching because they were unrealistic and not sordidly depressing like reality. They'd had to pull instructions from the hopper's information package on what to even prepare for. (I just hoped that they'd listen to me once we got there, and that I'd be able to keep them safe.)
Mensah had assigned watch shifts to everyone on the hopper, and they were taking turns to pilot, co-pilot, and rest. It was the middle of the night, and Pin-Lee was piloting with Mensah as the co-pilot, while Ratthi and Overse dozed in the main cabin. I was splitting my attention between listening to my music and checking on the handful of drones I'd left back at the PreservationAux habitat to monitor things there. (Not that I would have been able to do much if anything happened back there, but still.)
The humans still back at the habitat were more active than most clients I'd had before tended to be at this time. Perhaps they were anxious about what we'd find at DeltFall. Arada was walking around occasionally, apparently restless, while Volescu snored off and on in his bunk. Bharadwaj had finally been able to leave Medical and return to her own quarters, and was busy going over her field notes. Gurathin was in the hub doing something on his personal system, but I couldn't tell what.
Then, suddenly, the feed dropped out.
I tapped Mensah over the local feed running off the hopper's system and told her, [The satellite went down.]
[Are you sure it was the satellite?] Mensah asked, a note of concern in her feed voice.
[I'm sure. I'm pinging it, and there's no response.] Without the satellite, we were cut off from HubSystem and everything else - we were far enough away from the PreservationAux habitat by now that we needed the comm satellite as a relay. I scanned around us as far as I could reach, but came up with nothing but empty sky. [I'm not picking up anything on scanners.]
Mensah didn't reply for a little bit, and I assumed she was talking to the others on the hopper. I continued scanning, looking for anything even remotely out of the ordinary, but there was nothing. I knew that the satellite had gone down a few times already during the survey - some of my clients back at DeltFall had been very vocal with their disapproval over the outages. This didn't make me feel any better though. There was just something about the timing of the outage, along with everything else that had happened, that was making me think there was something seriously wrong. But I didn't have any solid evidence, all I had was the vague feeling.
Either way, there wasn't anything I or the others could do about the satellite. Mensah eventually let me know that they'd agreed to keep going on to DeltFall with me, instead of returning to their own habitat. I would have preferred that they'd gone back, where they would hopefully be safe, but I wasn't part of their contract and had no say in their decisions. I simply pinged an acknowledgement, and focused on flying.
It was dawn when we arrived. The DeltFall camp was set in a wide valley surrounded by high mountains. Creek beds spiderwebbed through the grass and around stubby trees. The DeltFall operation I was assigned to was bigger than the PreservationAux one, so our base consisted of three linked habitats, a shelter for surface vehicles, a landing area for two large hoppers, a cargo hauler, and three small hoppers, plus the hangar and separate landing area for my flier.
There was nobody outside, no movement. No trace of damage, no sign that any hostile fauna had approached. The satellite was still dead, but Mensah had been trying to get the DeltFall habitat on the comm since we had come within range. I had also been trying to reestablish contact with HubSystem, but had gotten only empty, echoing silence.
[Are any transports missing?] Mensah asked me over the local feed as I flew ahead and cautiously circled the habitat. The PresAux hopper was hanging back for now, which I appreciated.
[No. All transports are accounted for. The ground vehicles are kept in the shelter to the right,] I replied. [I recommend that you land your hopper outside the perimeter.] I sent her all the information I had, which was that DeltFall's automated systems were responding to my pings, but that was it. I wasn't getting the feed because HubSystem was either on standby or down entirely. From my overhead vantage point, I could see that all the habitat entrances were shut, with no signs of forced entry. And I wasn't getting anything from the three other SecUnits that were on this contract with me, not even pings.
That worried me a lot more than anything else did. Nobody outside, nobody answering the comm. Unless they'd shut down HubSystem and the other SecUnits and taken the surface vehicles off on vacation, my clients were--
No. I wasn't going to just assume that. I had to confirm that in person. Neither my nor the hopper's scanners could see inside the habitats because of the shielding that's really only there to protect proprietary data, so we couldn't get any life signs or energy readings.
Mensah didn't reply for a few moments, presumably talking to the others. Finally she spoke up again. [All right. This is your habitat, we'll follow your lead here.]
Well, that was a relief. (Somewhat, anyway. I'd still prefer they not accompany me at all, but if they were going to insist on it, following my lead was the next best thing.) I continued to circle overhead as the hopper descended to land outside the perimeter where I'd indicated, at the edge of the valley, then I followed them down. With my landing gears still trashed, I couldn't really land myself, but I hadn't been planning to anyway. Once I was low enough and beside the hopper, I switched to my hover mode, then carefully disconnected myself from my flier. It remained floating about a metre and a half off the ground as I pulled my suit skin up into place and put the top half of my armour back on. Once I'd sealed the helmet, I grabbed my projectile weapon, opened the co*ckpit canopy and vaulted out, landing lightly on the ground. My flier swayed a little with the movement, then steadied again.
Mensah, Overse and Pin-Lee had left the hopper, each carrying one of the small hand weapons from the survival gear, while Ratthi stayed aboard, monitoring the scanners. They were all quiet and subdued, and I suspected that up until now, they'd been considering this as probably some kind of natural disaster, and that they were going to be digging survivors out of a collapsed habitat, or fending off hostile fauna.
This was something else.
Mensah nodded at me to proceed. I adjusted my grip on my projectile weapon, activated my drones, and started forward, my flier hovering along behind me like another (much larger) drone. They followed behind me, moving carefully in their full environment suits, their helmets sealed. The suits gave them some protection, at least, but they were meant for environmental hazards, not heavily armed humans or angry malfunctioning rogue SecUnits actively attempting to kill them. I was even more nervous than Ratthi, who was anxiously telling us to be careful almost every other step as he monitored the scans.
I sent a few of my drones ahead to scout around the habitat for any signs of movement, and kept the rest with me for now, hovering just above my head in a small cloud. My drones were small, barely a centimetre across, with cameras only, no weapons. (That was what my flier was for.)
We crossed the shallow streams, scattering water invertebrates away from our boots. The trees were short and sparse enough that I had a good view of the camp on our approach. I still couldn't detect any of the security drones that I knew should be here, and Ratthi's scanners weren't picking up anything either. The scans read the perimeter sensors as dead, and I still couldn't get anything from the other SecUnits, despite my best efforts.
SecUnits aren't sentimental about each other, we can't afford to be. We aren't friends, and we can't trust each other, even if we work together. Even if we don't have clients who decide to entertain themselves by ordering their SecUnits to fight each other. (I really hated fighting other SecUnits.)
I led the way into the landing area for the hoppers. They were between us and the first habitat, with the vehicle storage off to one side, and my flier's hangar off to the other. I was leading us in at an angle, checking the ground as we went. It was mostly bare of grass from all the foot traffic and hopper landings. We'd gotten a weather report from the satellite before it had dropped out which informed us that it had rained here overnight, and the mud had hardened. There were no signs of activity since then.
I passed that info to Mensah through the feed and she told the others. "So whatever happened, it wasn't long after we spoke to them on the comm," Pin-Lee murmured.
"They couldn't have been attacked by someone," Overse whispered. "There's no one else on this planet." There was no real point in whispering, but I could understand the impulse.
"There's not supposed to be anyone else on this planet," Ratthi said darkly over the comm from their hopper.
There were three SecUnits that weren't me on this planet, and that was bad enough. (I couldn't shake the memory of the PreservationAux SecUnit firing at Mensah, its own client.) By now, my drones had confirmed my overview of all the habitat entrances, showing that they were all closed and undamaged. I sent the images to Mensah's feed and said, "Dr. Mensah, it would be better if I went ahead."
She paused, reviewing what I'd sent her, her shoulders tensing. She had probably come to the same conclusion I had, or at least admitted to herself that it was the most likely possibility. (She was probably having the same problems with remembering her own SecUnit trying to kill her.) "All right," she said. "We'll wait here. Make sure we can monitor."
I just nodded and sent my camera's feed to all four of them, then started forward. I kept the drones I'd sent ahead on a scouting pattern around the perimeter, and used some of the others to check the vehicle shed as I moved past it. It was open on one side, with some sealed lockers in the back for storage. All four of our surface vehicles were still there, powered down and with no sign of recent tracks, so I didn't bother going in. I sent a confirmation of the presence of the surface vehicles to Mensah over the feed, then kept going.
I walked up to the main hatch of the first habitat, and tapped the entrance button. I wasn't sure if it would still open for me or not, but it did. I couldn't decide if that was a relief or a concern. I sent a couple of my drones in ahead of me, set my flier to hold position just above and before the doorway, and told Mensah through the feed that I wouldn't be speaking aloud on the comm anymore.
She tapped back an acknowledgement and I heard her telling the others to get off my feed and my comm, that she would be the only one speaking to me so I wouldn't be distracted. Mensah underestimated my ability to ignore humans, but I appreciated the thought. Ratthi whispered, "Be careful," and signed off. (I didn't know what to make of that, so I decided not to think about it.)
I had my projectile weapon held at the ready as I went in, through the suit locker area and into the first corridor. "No suits missing," Mensah commented quietly in my ear, watching my field camera. This habitat was nicer than the PreservationAux one, newer, with wider halls to accommodate the larger group number. It was also empty and silent, the smell of decaying flesh drifting through my helmet filters. I headed toward the hub, where I knew the main crew area was.
The lights were still on and air whispered through the vents, but with the feed down I couldn't get back into my SecSystem. I really missed the cameras. It was weird and uncomfortable being in my own assigned habitat and not being able to see everything.
At the door to the hub, I found the first of the SecUnits. It was on the floor, sprawled on its back, the armour over its chest pierced by something that left a hole approximately ten centimetres wide and a little deeper. We're hard to kill, but that would definitely do it. I recognised which one it was; this SecUnit had always sent me a ping of acknowledgement whenever its patrol path took it past my hangar while I was doing checks or maintenance on my flier. (Sometimes I had pinged it first.)
And now it was dead.
Something in my chest tightened, but I didn't have the time to acknowledge it. I carefully stepped over it and went through into the crew area, then froze in place at the scene before me. There were eleven messily dead humans in the hub, sprawled on the floor, in chairs, the projection surfaces and monitoring stations behind them showing impact damage from energy and projectile weapon fire.
I had been expecting it, even though I'd been actively attempting not to, but expecting it and actually having those expectations confirmed were two entirely different things. These eleven dead humans were - had been - my clients, and I hadn't been here for them. I recognised them, remembered stupid little details about them, their specialities, how each one had behaved towards the others on the survey.
It was my job (well, part of my job) to protect them, and I had failed.
I had a list of my clients in memory storage, and part of my mind automatically went through the list, updating the status of each of the eleven clients to "confirmed deceased". The rest of me was still frozen in place, swamped by a tangle of emotions that I couldn't even begin to sort through. As far as I could remember, I had never lost this many clients on a contract before. I'd never even come close to losing this many clients before.
I was still and silent for long enough that Mensah ended up pinging me over the feed. [SecUnit? Are you all right?]
No. No, I wasn't. I didn't say that though, and simply asked Mensah for everyone to fall back to the hopper. She acknowledged me, and I got confirmation from the drones I still had outside that the humans were retreating.
I carefully picked my way across the room and went out the opposite door to the corridor that led to the mess hall, Medical, and the cabins. There were more dead clients sprawled in the corridors, and I paused automatically to identify and update the status of each one.
The weapon that had killed the dead SecUnit wasn't in the hub, and it had died with its back to the door. My clients had gotten some warning, enough to start getting up and retreating, but something else had come in from this direction and trapped them. I suspected that the first SecUnit I'd found had been killed while trying to protect the hub.
Which meant that I was looking for the other two SecUnits.
These clients had been moderately decent, as far as clients went. Despite the size of the DeltFall group, there hadn't been much interpersonal drama, unlike other contracts I'd been on. They hadn't made us SecUnits fight each other for their own entertainment, they hadn't treated us like cleaning bots and made us clean up after them, they hadn't used us for target practice just because they were bored. And I'd been able to fly all day almost every day. They hadn't deserved this. They hadn't deserved getting murdered by the SecUnits that were meant to protect them.
The PreservationAux humans weren't my clients, but I still wanted to protect them. Even more so now than before. Nobody was going to touch them if I could help it. And to make sure of that, I had to kill these two rogue Units. I could have pulled out at this point, sabotaged the hoppers, grabbed a few of the repair drones from my hangar, and got the PresAux humans out of there, leaving the rogue Units stuck on the other side of the planet. That would have been the smart thing to do.
But I wanted to kill them.
One of my drones found two humans dead in the mess, no warning. They had been in the middle of taking food pacs out of the heating cubby, the tables half-set for a meal. Two more clients to update the status on. Two more people I recognised - they were marital partners, and I'd overheard them talking about their plans for the future on more than one occasion. A future they'd no longer have. Two more clients that I'd failed to protect.
While I moved through the rooms and hallways, I was doing an image search against the hopper's equipment database in an attempt to distract myself. The dead unit had probably been killed by a mineral survey tool, like a pressure or sonic drill. I was pretty sure the PreservationAux humans also had one on their own hopper, it was part of the standard equipment, and I sent my analysis through to Mensah. You would have to get close to use it with enough force to pierce armour, maybe a little more than a metre.
Because you can't walk up to another murderbot with an armour-piercing projectile or energy weapon inside the habitat and not be looked at with suspicion. You can easily walk up to a fellow murderbot with a tool that a human might have asked you to retrieve.
By the time I'd reached the opposite side of the structure, my drones had cleared the first habitat. I halted in the hatchway at the end of the narrow corridor that led into the second. Another human lay at the opposite end, half in and half out of the half-open hatch. I recognised this one as well - she'd had a habit of sneaking into the mess in the middle of the nocturnal rest period, in the dark, and snacking on cubes of solidified fauna excretions she'd taken from the cooling unit. (This survey didn't have strict rationing, so I didn't have to report her late night excursions or do anything about them, unlike some previous contracts I'd been on.) (I really hadn't liked those contracts.)
To get into the next habitat, I'd have to step over her to push the door all the way open, but I could already tell that something was wrong about the way the body lay. I used the magnification on the field camera to get a closer view of the skin on her outstretched arm. The lividity was wrong; she had been shot in the chest and had rested on her back for some time, then had been moved here recently. Probably as soon as they picked up our approach.
They were using my client's body as a distraction, as a prop for a trap. I was going to make them pay for that.
I double-checked my outside drones to make sure the PreservationAux humans were safely back at their hopper, then re-positioned my flier more precisely in front of the habitat entrance. I set one of my drones above the hatchway to the next habitat so it would have a good view of the corridor, readied my projectile weapon, then sent another of my drones zipping quickly through the half-open hatchway.
I had a half-second to see the two SecUnits waiting on either side of the hatchway before I heard the sound of an energy weapon firing and my drone's input fizzled out. That was enough to let me know their positions, and I opened fire with explosive rounds, aiming to hit the edges of the hatchway. The explosions and shrapnel wouldn't do much damage to the two lurking Units from here, but that wasn't what I was trying to do. I just wanted to get their attention.
I definitely got it. They burst through the hatchway, the first one already firing at me, but the narrowness of the corridor worked in my favour, and the second had no room to fire around the first. I ducked back behind the wall, catching some minor shrapnel that didn't pierce my armour, then I turned and ran.
The drone I'd set up above the hatchway confirmed that they were pursuing me, not that I needed the extra confirmation as the sound of gunfire echoed through the habitat. I dodged and weaved as erratically as I could, occasionally spinning to fire back at them before continuing on towards the habitat's main exit. I was taking some hits, direct and indirect, from both regular and explosive projectile rounds, but they weren't close enough or accurate enough to slow me down much.
I finally reached the main exit, and as soon as I was through it I dove to the side and rolled back to my feet a few metres away. The other Units sprinted in pursuit down the corridor, and just as they cleared the exit, my waiting flier opened fire.
Bolts of energy, much more powerful than what our in-built arm guns could produce, caught them both squarely, stopping them in their tracks. They melted armour, burned organics, overloaded and fried systems. The remaining explosive ammo in their projectile weapons cooked off, exploding in their faces and doing even more damage. They staggered and dropped, a matched pair of smoking, smouldering wrecks. Neither of them would be getting up from that again.
I scanned them both to confirm that they were no longer functional, then took a moment to assess my own condition. I'd still had some damage from the fight against the PreservationAux's SecUnit that I hadn't given MedSystem time to fully fix up, and now I had even more. I'd taken at least two, maybe three solid hits to the back from explosive rounds, which had blown off chunks of armour and shredded the underlying organics. One of my lower spine ports was damaged, but as long as the rest were still functional, that wouldn't hinder my ability to link to my flier. (Built-in redundancies are great.) Some glancing hits had damaged the armour over my arms as well. I'd also been hit by several clusters of solid projectile rounds, some of which had deflected off the armour while others had punched through and embedded in the back of my torso and my left shoulder.
In short, I wasn't feeling great. But none of it was critical, and I still had a job to do.
Now that things had calmed down a little, Mensah was asking me for an update. I let her know that I was still functional, and that I needed to finish checking the rest of the habitats. It had occurred to me that maybe there were still survivors hiding somewhere - if all my clients were dead, then the two remaining SecUnits should have been fried by their own governor modules well before we arrived. Unless they'd somehow both broken their own governor modules like I had, but that seemed… really unlikely. Not both of them, not at the same time as the PreservationAux SecUnit on the other side of the planet.
Something weird was going on here.
Mensah then asked if I needed any help. I didn't, and I really didn't want the PreservationAux humans leaving the safety of their hopper, not until I'd confirmed that there was nothing dangerous still lurking around somewhere. If anything, all I wanted them to do was return to their own habitat, safely away from the horrors within, and to leave me here.
But they still needed protection, and they no longer had a SecUnit of their own. So once I was finished here, I had to go back with them. There was no logical reason for me to stay here, and I wasn't going to lose any more humans.
So I replied to Mensah with a recommendation that they remain in their hopper for their own safety until I'd cleared the rest of the habitats, and set a couple more of my drones to watch over them. I checked the inputs from the drones I still had watching the perimeter, making sure nothing had changed there, then I headed back into the habitat with my remaining drones.
I moved quickly through the first habitat, since I'd already cleared it, and made my way into the second one. I sent a couple of my drones ahead to scout it out while I made my way towards the central hub where HubSystem and SecSystem's main interfaces were. If I could get them back up and running, that would make checking the remaining habitats much quicker. I passed Medical on the way, pausing briefly at the blasted hatch. Three more of my clients (status update: confirmed deceased) were piled inside where they'd tried to secure Medical and been trapped when their own SecUnits blew it open to slaughter them.
I also passed the Security ready room, and took the time to check that as well. All four cubicles were open and empty, and most of our equipment was still here. I reloaded my projectile weapon and spotted another box of drones still in storage. It would take too long to get them working with HubSystem down though, so I just made a note of them to pick up on the way out later. (You can never have too many drones.) It was very tempting to just climb into my own cubicle and shut out the world for a while, but there wasn't the time for that, not now. Not with the PreservationAux humans waiting, vulnerable, in their hopper.
I kept going to the central hub, my drones occasionally finding more dead clients as they scouted the corridors nearby. I had been half-expecting to feel a little better, or at least get some grim satisfaction after killing the sh*t out of the two SecUnits responsible for this slaughter, but I just felt exhausted. Getting revenge didn't change the fact that I'd failed to protect my clients in the first place.
Once I reached the central hub, I went to the main system interface and looked it over. Everything was shut down, which meant I'd have to wait for it to reboot and reinitialise before I could do anything with it. I started the main console back up, then occupied myself by checking my various drone inputs. The perimeter was still clear, but the humans had unsealed their hopper and were standing around it, out in the open. What was it with humans ignoring their own safety?
I was about to contact Mensah over the feed to request that they get their asses back inside the hopper (not with those words exactly but you know what I mean), but before I could say anything, the input from one of my drones inside the habitat fizzled and died.
sh*t.
I immediately sent a couple more drones in that direction and readied my projectile weapon. There was only one entrance to the central hub, via a long, narrow corridor with a safety hatch at either end. I moved swiftly back up the corridor, hoping to get out before whatever had fried my drone boxed me in, but I was too late. The drones I'd sent out spotted two more SecUnits, company ones with survey group logos that I didn't recognise, advancing quickly towards my position, and there was no way for me to get around them and back outside without being spotted and getting shot to pieces. My flier wouldn't be able to blast through the habitat structure quickly enough to do anything with just its energy weapons; I only had the recon loadout, not any of the other loadouts with more firepower.
I was trapped.
I had just enough time to send Mensah a warning and a recommendation that they get the hell out of here before they got messily killed like my own clients had (I didn't word it like that, but that's what I meant), then I backburnered that channel so I wouldn't get distracted. I had to delay these two units until the humans had escaped. At least these SecUnits didn't have drones with them, so I had a slight advantage there. I'd have to use every advantage I could get.
I kept my remaining drones in a holding pattern above my head and waited just behind the corridor hatch, projectile weapon at the ready. The edges of the hatchway didn't offer a lot of cover, but it was the best I was going to get. The hostile units moved in fast, firing rapidly, shots flying past down the corridor or impacting the walls by the hatch. I sent half my remaining drones out in a fast-moving cloud to distract them and intercept shots, then knelt low, leaned around the side of the hatch, and fired a burst into Hostile One's legs. It staggered, knocked off-balance, and Hostile Two launched past it and through the hatchway into the corridor with me.
I hit the button to close and lock the hatchway with my elbow even as I launched back to my feet and threw myself at Hostile Two, knocking its projectile weapon aside with my own before it could fire point-blank at me and slamming it back against the corridor wall. I had one of its arms pinned, but it raised the other in preparation to shoot me in the head with its inbuilt arm weapon. I was moving too fast though, driven by anger and desperation, and clamped my hand over the gun port before it could fully open. My other hand triggered the projectile weapon I was still holding, firing haphazardly into Hostile Two's legs and torso. This gave me just enough of an advantage to shove its hand up beneath its chin and release the pressure off its weapon. It had a split second to try and abort that fire command and it failed. The energy burst went through my two middle fingers and the joint between its helmet and neck piece. Its head jerked and its body started to spasm. I dropped my projectile weapon, got my arm around its neck, and twisted.
Then I let go as I felt the connections, mechanical and organic, snap, and Hostile Two's body slid down the wall to crumple on the floor. One down, one to go.
I couldn't pause to rest though; Hostile One was blasting at the hatchway door, and it wouldn't take much longer to break through. I'd taken more hits from them both before I could separate them and drop Hostile Two, and I didn't want to get caught in this narrow corridor with no cover when the door finally gave way. I retrieved my dropped projectile weapon, shoved Hostile Two's corpse across the doorway (I really hoped Hostile One tripped over it), and retreated down the corridor back to the central hub room. I only had a few drones left with me, and I positioned one just above the hatchway to the central hub before going inside and sealing that hatchway too.
It wouldn't buy me much time, but it was better than nothing, and maybe I'd be able to take out the last hostile unit before I was sent into shutdown myself. With little else to do while I waited for the remaining hostile to burst in here and finish me off, I went back to the central console and checked on HubSystem. It had finally finished its startup procedure and was waiting for the password to be entered so it could fully reactivate.
I entered the password and… nothing happened. The password had been rejected. Someone had changed it. I couldn't get back into my own HubSystem.
What the hell was going on?
None of what had been happening made any sense. The PreservationAux SecUnit turning against its own clients without warning, the same thing apparently happening here with the SecUnits on my own contract (but only two of them, not all three. Why had the third one been killed?), and then two more unfamiliar SecUnits showing up out of nowhere…
I was getting a bad feeling in my organic parts. A really bad feeling. Something about this felt almost familiar, but not the good kind of familiar. The bad kind of familiar, like a half-remembered nightmare. (Yes, SecUnits dream, it's an annoying holdover from the organic parts of our brain. One I could really do without, honestly. I never dreamt anything good.)
Hostile One had broken through the first hatchway, taken out the drone I'd left in the corridor, and was now blasting away at the second hatch. I didn't have much time left. There was nowhere to hide or shelter in the central hub, so I just positioned myself beside the doorway, my projectile weapon held at the ready as best I could with damaged arms and two missing fingers, and waited.
The hatchway was almost breached when the noise of it being assaulted stopped. I remained in place, tense and nervous - then something heavy slammed into the weakened hatch and smashed it open as Hostile One barrelled into the room before I could react. It swung around and shot me in the right hip, apparently aiming low because I'd been crouching last time and that's what it had been expecting me to do again. The result was basically the same, anyway; my leg gave out and I fell backwards, flat on my back, and it fired again right into my chest before I'd even hit the floor. Even with my pain sensors dialled all the way down, that hurt, and despite my best attempts I couldn't get any of my weapons into position to return fire fast enough.
Then it jerked, dropped its weapon, and fell forward. I saw two things; the ten-centimetre hole in its back, and Mensah standing behind it, holding something that looked a lot like the sonic mining drill from her hopper.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. "Dr. Mensah," I said automatically, "this is a violation of security protocol and I am contractually obligated to record this for report to the company–" It was in the buffer and the rest of my brain was empty.
She ignored me, talking to Pin-Lee on the comm, and strode forward around the dead unit to grab my arm and pull. I was too heavy for her (and also the damage on my arm (and everywhere else) made that rather unpleasant) so I hauled myself to my feet with some difficulty, still holding onto my projectile weapon with my good hand. I was starting to wonder if Dr. Mensah was actually some kind of intrepid galactic explorer and not just a regular survey captain, even if she didn't look like the ones on the entertainment feed.
She kept pulling on me though, so I took a few more steps, limping heavily from the shot to the hip and doing my best to avoid tripping over the dead unit. "Dr. Mensah, I advised you to leave and get yourselves to safety–"
"We're not leaving you behind," she replied firmly. "You weren't responding on the feed, so I came to get you myself."
I didn't know what to make of that. "Why?" came out before I could stop myself. It was the only thing I could think of to say, though I hoped I didn't actually sound as plaintive and confused as I thought I did.
Mensah paused and looked back at me, her brow furrowing slightly. "Because you needed help," she replied, slowly and patiently. "We're not going to abandon you here to let yourself get killed."
"But…" That was literally my job description, or at least part of it. SecUnits are meant to be left behind if the situation calls for it to keep the clients safe. We're meant to be disposable. We're not meant to be rescued by the humans we're supposed to be protecting. I couldn't process it. "You endangered yourself. That's– You're not meant to do that."
"You've endangered yourself multiple times to save us," Mensah pointed out, a little impatiently.
"That's what I'm made for. That's my job. Not yours. I'm the SecUnit. You're–" I hesitated. She wasn't actually my client. I'd failed my own clients. I was suddenly exhausted again. "I'm… not even your SecUnit. I don't understand."
Mensah's expression twisted in a way I couldn't interpret before she took a breath and smoothed it out again. "We would prefer that you remain alive so you can continue to protect us," she said, her voice gentle. "And in return, we will do whatever we can to protect you, as well."
Well. The first part made some kind of sense, at least. They no longer had their own SecUnit, I'd made very sure of that, so I guessed they considered keeping me around better than nothing. As for the second part… I didn't want to think about it. They wouldn't be able to protect me from the company. My organic parts were doing something weird, but I couldn't tell if that was from my confusion or the damage I'd taken. "... I still need to clear the rest of the habitat," I replied after a moment, switching topics. "There may still be survivors. I have to check."
She regarded me dubiously. "You're hurt," she pointed out, entirely unnecessarily, as she gestured to my injuries. I'd taken a good number of hits all over, and was missing chunks of armour and organic bits in multiple places, the worst one being from the hit I'd taken directly to the chest. Clusters of projectiles and shrapnel were lodged in my back, shoulders, and thighs, and my right hip was leaking and grinding painfully from when it had been shot. "You're missing fingers!" I was very aware of that, it was making it difficult to hold my projectile weapon properly.
"It doesn't matter. They're my clients," I countered. I had to make her understand. "I have to be sure. If anyone is still alive – I can't leave without knowing, for sure. I have to find out. You don't have to stay with me." I still had a few drones left with me, and I sent them out to start scouting the rest of the habitat. It would be faster than me trying to do it myself right now. (I really hoped there weren't any more surprise SecUnits lurking around.)
Mensah eyed me more closely, and I was even more grateful than usual for my opaque faceplate. I didn't want to know what my face was doing. (I didn't want Mensah to know, either.) Finally she let out a huff of breath and nodded. "All right, fine. But I'm not waiting in the hopper. I'm staying with you. Is your MedSystem working?"
"No." I wasn't happy with her staying with me, but at least she was no longer trying to get me to leave immediately, and if she was with me, I could protect her. "I couldn't get HubSystem reactivated. I've been locked out. Someone has changed the password. With HubSystem down, my cubicle won't work either." Which reminded me of an important detail. "The last two SecUnits aren't from here. They have a different survey logo." One of said units was right by my feet, with minimal damage apart from the ten-centimetre hole in its back. This one would be the easiest to examine if we wanted to find out anything about what was going on. I awkwardly knelt down beside it and started examining it more closely.
"They're from a different survey group? What were they doing here then? We weren't aware of the presence of a third survey group." She regarded the body on the floor, her brow furrowed. "It looks like it's from the same company as you are, but I don't recognise that survey logo. GrayCris. Why didn't the company tell us about another survey group? We knew about DeltFall." She sounded more like she was talking to herself (or maybe to the others over the comm) than to me, so I didn't say anything. She was silent for a moment, then looked back at me. "Could this third survey group have bribed the company to keep their presence secret?"
"Yes." The company could be bribed to keep multiple surveys and who knows what else secret, as long as they thought they could get away with it. I didn't say anything else though, I was busy working on getting the dead unit's helmet off. There was something I needed to check, but I couldn't do so with its helmet still on. Having a couple of fingers missing was hindering me more than I expected. I finally managed to wrestle it off, and checked the back of the SecUnit's neck. All SecUnits, including me, had a data port at the base of our neck, which could be used to insert temporary override modules.
There was a module in the dead SecUnit's data port. It didn't take me long to figure out what kind it was. "Dr. Mensah, this unit - and probably the others here - have been inserted with combat override modules." I sent her the specifications of said module over the feed. Combat override modules allow personal control over a SecUnit, turning it from a mostly autonomous construct into a gun puppet. The feed would be cut off, control would be over the comm, but functionality would depend on how complex the orders were. "Kill the humans" isn't a complex order.
None of the SecUnits here had been in control of their own actions; they hadn't had a choice. But I had been, and I'd chosen to kill them. (Well, except for the one Mensah had killed, but she'd done so to save me, so I was still responsible for it, mostly.)
I felt absolutely awful.
Mensah took the time to check the specifications that I'd sent her, her frown deepening. "We need to leave as soon as possible," she said after a moment, her voice firm. "Whoever this survey group is, they could come back here with more SecUnits. Or just to retrieve the ones they left here."
She was right. And I wasn't in any real state to protect her or the other PreservationAux humans from much of anything right now. I struggled back to my feet again, doing my best to ignore how the movement made some of my injuries leak some more before the veins and arteries automatically sealed again. "My drones are checking the rest of the habitat. I have located and identified seventy-six percent of my clients so far." I had to pause for a moment before I could continue. "I need to pick up some extra intel drones from the Security ready room before we go. And get some of the repair drones for my flier. They'll fit in the hopper's cargo compartments."
"Can we do so while your drones finish checking the habitat?" Mensah asked, and I nodded. "All right. Let's get moving. We might as well pick up some of the emergency med kits from your Medical as well. Just in case."
That was practical, and it wasn't like they would do anyone here any good now. I slung my projectile weapon across my back and limped after Mensah out of the central hub, flicking through my various drone inputs as we went. The drones I'd left outside the habitat could see Overse waiting near the main entrance with one of the small hand weapons, while Pin-Lee and Ratthi waited inside the hopper, still outside the perimeter. Nothing else seemed out of place outside, which was a relief.
We stopped by the ready room first, and I picked up the box of spare intel drones in my good hand, then had to put it down again so I could reload my projectile weapon. While I was doing that, Mensah grabbed the box of drones herself, obviously intending to carry it for me. She had the sonic mining drill slung across her back, in a position where she could quickly bring it to bear again if she needed to, so she had her hands free to carry things. I didn't bother arguing with her, even though the idea of a human carrying something for a SecUnit was utterly foreign to me. I was starting to get used to how weird the PreservationAux humans were, just a little.
When we got to Medical, I saw Mensah pause at the sight of the bodies of the three humans that had been trapped within. She'd been carefully averting her gaze from the other bodies we'd passed, but it was harder to ignore these ones when we had to step over them to get into Medical. "You should wait out here," I told her on impulse. She let out a huff of breath and nodded, but didn't say anything as she turned away from the bodies. I found a carry bag inside and packed it with as many emergency med kits as I could fit into it, then slung the strap over my slightly-less-damaged shoulder.
I left Medical and we continued to the habitat's main entry. My shot hip slowed me down, but I was still able to keep up with Mensah. By the time we reached the entrance, my drones had finished clearing the last habitat, and I'd updated the status of all my clients. Every single one of them, confirmed deceased. I swayed a little and had to lean against the edge of the hatchway to recover. Mensah paused to look at me, her brow furrowing, and Overse also moved closer from where she'd been waiting outside. "What's wrong?" Mensah asked gently.
"My drones have finished checking the habitats," I replied as neutrally as I could manage. I hesitated for a long moment before continuing. It was difficult to get the words out. "... No survivors."
"Oh." Mensah sighed. "I'm sorry."
Why was she apologising? It wasn't like she was the one who killed them.
Overse reached out to me with one hand, as if to offer some gesture of comfort, but I couldn't prevent myself from flinching back slightly. She withdrew her hand again. "Are you all right, SecUnit?" she asked carefully.
I couldn't answer that. I just straightened from where I'd been leaning against the edge of the hatchway and began limping towards my flier's hangar, avoiding the wrecked bodies of the two SecUnits I'd murdered. I should have stopped to check them and confirm they'd had combat override modules as well, but… I didn't want to. "We should keep moving. I still want to retrieve some repair drones before we return to your habitat."
Neither of them said anything in response, and just followed behind me. Once I was at my hangar, it took me a couple of minutes to get around HubSystem being down to activate some of the repair drones so I could get them to the hopper without having to carry them myself. By that time, Mensah had gotten Pin-Lee and Ratthi to bring the hopper over from the perimeter, landing it just outside the hangar. I got the drones into the hopper's side cargo compartments, along with the box of smaller intel drones and the bag of extra emergency med kits.
Mensah grabbed a couple of the med kits before closing the cargo pod though, and turned to face me resolutely. "Before we leave, we should at least do some basic treatment of your injuries," she said in a tone that brooked no argument as she handed one of the med kits to Overse. "I don't like the idea of leaving them untreated for the entire time it'll take us to get back to our habitat. That will just make them more difficult to treat later."
That wasn't the worst idea, honestly, and at this point I was too tired to argue anyway. I just nodded, and she gestured for me to go back inside the hangar first. Probably because it was at least a little cleaner in there than out in the open amongst the dried mud and dust. Only then did I remember that I also had a spare flight suit still in storage here as well. That would make things easier later. I shed my damaged armour and suit skin, then just stood still and distracted myself with an episode of Sanctuary Moon while Overse and Mensah used the med kits to pick out embedded shrapnel and spray the injuries to my organic parts down with wound sealant.
"Doesn't this hurt?" Overse asked at one point as she was carefully extracting a particularly large piece of shrapnel from the ruins of my back. Mensah was busy with the mess that was my right hip. The damaged organic parts around it were still leaking because the proximity of the inorganic joint was interfering with the wound sealant.
"I have my pain sensors turned down." That didn't negate the pain entirely, but it did make it much more tolerable and distant, and Overse didn't need to know the finer details. I figured it was enough to reassure her that she wasn't making things any worse.
"Oh, well, that's good, I suppose. It must come in handy." I couldn't see her expression, and didn't particularly want to, but I did notice that she sounded… perturbed. "Why do SecUnits have the ability to feel pain in the first place, though, if you can just turn it off?"
"It's a useful indicator of how much damage we've taken." I was a little distracted watching Sanctuary Moon and keeping an eye on the inputs from my drones still outside on watch, so the next part came out without me thinking about it first. "Plus the governor modules probably wouldn't be as effective if we couldn't feel pain from them." I realised as soon as it came out that I really shouldn't have said that, but it was too late.
Mensah paused what she was doing to look up at me, but I kept just looking straight ahead and didn't meet her gaze. I didn't want to see her expression either. I heard Overse suck her breath in through her teeth, but her hands remained steady as she eased the shrapnel out and sealed the wound. "That seems inhumane."
"We're not human." My tone was flatter than I would've gotten away with if my governor module had actually been working, but I didn't care. I just wanted them to finish up so we could get out of here before anything else happened.
There was an uncomfortable silence after that. I went back to watching Sanctuary Moon and trying not to twitch too much as they patched me up. Once they were done and were packing up what was left of the med kits, I went and retrieved a fresh suit skin and my spare flight suit from the storage locker in the hangar. I didn't put them on yet though - I didn't want to mess around with trying to get the suit skin over my injuries without interfering with the wound sealant, and I'd probably just have to take it off again when we got back to the PreservationAux habitat anyway.
So I just stowed them and what was left of the armour (even though it was badly damaged, it still belonged to PreservationAux and I didn't want to leave it behind) in the hopper (it had much more room than my flier's small storage compartment), climbed awkwardly into my flier, and linked up. Mensah and Overse got back into the hopper, but before they took off, Mensah said to me over the feed, [We should check DeltFall's emergency beacon before we go. What happened here... we should see if the beacon's been triggered.]
That was a good idea, but the thought of it having been triggered and the Company already being on its way to pick us up (and find out about my broken governor module) was exhausting. I just tapped an acknowledgement and sent Mensah the coordinates for the beacon, waited for them to take off in the hopper, then followed them up into the sky.
Chapter Five
The flight to the emergency beacon’s location was short - it was only a few kilos away, a safe distance from the DeltFall habitat. When we got there, the hopper dropped down lower and circled the site to get a better look. I stayed at my current altitude and swung around in a slow, wide arc as I waited for the humans to report. I probably should’ve been the one checking, but Mensah had taken the lead, and I didn’t have the energy to take over.
[The beacon hasn’t launched,] Mensah told me over the feed. [It looks like it’s been destroyed. It’s in pieces all over the place.]
On the one hand, the news that the company wasn’t yet on its way was a slight, if temporary, relief. On the other hand, it was very concerning for PreservationAux. GrayCris obviously didn’t want the company getting here before they’d finished whatever it was they were up to. [You should check on your own beacon once we get back there,] I replied.
[That’s the plan,] Mensah confirmed. The hopper began climbing to rejoin me, and I swung around to start back towards PreservationAux’s habitat. [I just hope nothing’s happened back there while we were gone.]
I’d been trying not to think about that ever since the satellite dropped out. It was part of the reason I hadn’t wanted to stay long enough at DeltFall to get repaired before returning. [We’ll find out when we get there.] Maybe I should have tried to be more reassuring, but I really wasn’t feeling up to it. It wasn’t like we could do anything about it from here, anyway.
Mensah was silent for a long moment, and I hoped that was the end of the conversation. No such luck. [With everything that happened back there… how are you holding up?] she asked.
[I am at 62% performance reliability,] I replied automatically.
[That wasn’t what I meant.] Mensah’s tone was as gentle as it could be over the feed. [How are you doing mentally? Emotionally?]
Oh no. Nope, no way, I am not answering that. I am absolutely not going to talk about my feelings. Why would she even ask a SecUnit that? We’re not meant to have emotions or feelings. I let my buffer take over. [I'm sorry, I don’t have that information.]
There was another brief pause before Mensah responded. [Okay. But if you do need to… talk about it or anything at some point, I’ll listen. You’re not alone here.]
I had no idea how to respond to that. I just pinged a wordless acknowledgement, then backburnered the feed. Trying to figure out why Mensah was asking how I was doing, why she would care, was so draining that I wanted nothing more than to start a recharge cycle. Not exactly ideal while flying halfway around the planet.
I was too tired to think about it, or anything else, so I just started up one of my favourite music playlists and focused on flying without shaking my jury-rigged repairs to pieces. It was a long way back.
It was after sunset by the time we reached PreservationAux’s habitat. We’d passed by their own emergency beacon on the way in, and confirmed that it had also been destroyed. We were within regular comm range of the habitat by then; Mensah and the others on the hopper had managed to get in touch with the rest of the humans back at the habitat, and confirmed that everything there was fine. Nothing else had gone wrong while we were away.
Nothing that they wanted to talk about over the comm, anyway. Mensah also didn’t say anything about what had happened at DeltFall over the comm either. I was a little surprised that they had the sense to think about unfriendly parties potentially eavesdropping on our comms. Most humans I’d been on contract with before hadn’t been that sensible, but I guess everyone here had had plenty of time to think about it on the long flight back.
The habitat’s exterior lights were on when we arrived, illuminating the main entrance and the hopper landing pad. I let the hopper land first, then came in low and hovered to a halt in the open space beside the landing pad. I’d have to leave my flier in hover mode for the repair drones to work on it properly, and I hoped that it wouldn’t drain the power cells too much. The hover mode wasn’t really meant to be used for such long periods of time.
I took my time with disconnecting, recalibrating, and exiting my flier, hoping that everyone would be inside the habitat by then so I could get the repair drones out and get them working on my flier without interruption. At first I thought that I’d been successful in avoiding them, but as I was booting up the repair drones, I heard footsteps approaching me from the side. I didn’t react, hoping that whoever it was would leave me alone, but no such luck.
“SecUnit?” It was Mensah.
I resisted the urge to ignore her, just, and paused what I was doing to glance over at her. “Yes?”
“You should be going to Medical,” she said, her tone calm and level. “You need treatment.”
“And my flier needs repairs,” I pointed out, turning back to what I was doing with the drones. “I’ll go to Medical once I’ve got the repair drones activated and they’ve started working on it.”
“All right,” she replied, then added, “We’ll be having a team meeting soon, to discuss… everything that’s happened, and figure out what to do. I’d like you to be part of it, if you’re feeling up to it. Your input would be greatly appreciated.”
I glanced over at her again. “I’ll probably be in Medical by then.” Obviously. I really hoped they didn’t decide to hold the meeting in Medical. All I wanted to do was start a recharge while MedSystem worked on me. I also didn’t want to think about them appreciating anything I had to say. On the few occasions that previous clients had asked me for advice, they had then usually ignored it.
“You can join in over the feed,” she countered. “You don’t have to, of course, I understand it’s been a very long day. It’s just…” She sighed and rubbed her face with one hand. “None of us have been in a situation like this before. We don’t know what to expect, what to plan for. You’re…” She hesitated, apparently not sure how to phrase what she wanted to say.
I finally got the drones fully activated and set them to start repairs on my flier. They hovered off and got to work. “I’m the security expert?” I offered after a moment when Mensah didn’t continue.
Mensah let out a relieved little sound. “Yes. That. You’re the security expert. We could really use your advice.”
“I don’t know how much useful advice I’ll be able to give,” I warned her. Which was true. My education modules were cheap and basic, and most of my knowledge about security protocols actually came from all the media serials I’ve watched, which meant that most of it was probably anywhere between 60 to 70% inaccurate crap. Still, she wasn’t wrong about them being well out of their depth. I was realising that if I wanted to keep the PreservationAux humans safe (which I did), I’d have to be part of this meeting, no matter how reluctant I was to do so.
“Whatever advice you can give will likely be better than anything we can come up with ourselves,” she replied wryly.
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t want to say so. I also couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I just went to the hopper to get my suit skin, flight suit, and box of drones from the cargo compartment. It was difficult to maintain a proper grip on everything though with two missing fingers, and I had to accept that I’d probably have to make two trips. Which reminded me that MedSystem wouldn’t actually be able to rebuild the mechanical parts of those missing fingers. A cubicle could, but the cubicle here was keyed to PreservationAux’s original SecUnit and its specific organic DNA, and that wasn’t something I could really override.
The dead PreservationAux SecUnit, however, did still have all its fingers intact, last I knew. I looked around for its body, but apparently it had been moved somewhere else. “Dr. Mensah, where is your original SecUnit?”
Mensah blinked at me, apparently thrown off by the sudden change of topic. “... I think the others took it back inside the habitat. Gurathin mentioned checking its log for any signs of tampering.”
“I’ll need access to it before I go to Medical.” I started towards the habitat with just the box of drones and the suit skin. I’d come back to get the flight suit later.
“Of course, but why?” Mensah walked with me, her expression curious. She’d noticed that I’d left the flight suit behind, but didn’t say anything about it.
“Your MedSystem won’t be able to rebuild my missing fingers,” I replied. “I need to salvage replacement parts from the other unit.”
Mensah stopped dead in her tracks, which surprised me enough that I stopped as well to look back at her. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me, then she blinked and shook her head slightly, her expression smoothing out. “That’s… gruesomely practical…” she muttered as she began walking again.
“It’s standard company procedure.” I didn’t know why I was defending the company. Maybe I was just defending my own actions. “The company’s too cheap to let perfectly good reusable materials go to waste. They’ll recover all the dead units when they pick up the habitats and everything else, recycle the organic parts, and reuse the mechanical pieces in other units.”
Mensah looked up at me as I walked beside her. “Do you have any… previously owned parts in you now?” She still seemed to be struggling to come to terms with the thought.
“It’s possible,” I replied. “I don’t know for sure though.” I hadn’t been damaged badly enough to need any replacement parts since my last memory wipe, and anything before that, well. Obviously I didn’t remember.
By that point we’d reached the habitat, and Mensah didn’t ask me anything else about it. She just said, “The other SecUnit’s in the Security ready room.” Apparently she’d asked the others where it was over the feed, which I still had backburnered. I’d have to start paying attention to it again soon, but not yet. I just nodded and headed in that direction.
Mensah didn’t follow.
It didn’t take me long to get what I needed from the dead SecUnit, and then I headed to Medical. It was thankfully empty, with nobody to observe me during my repairs. I took care of the missing fingers first, manually directing MedSystem to help attach the replacement parts I’d taken from the other SecUnit. It was a relief to get that out of the way. MedSystem would be able to take care of most of the rest of my repairs without needing manual guidance, but I realised I’d need help to fix my damaged spinal port. That wasn’t something I could work on myself while awake, and MedSystem couldn’t deal with it by itself. It wasn’t urgent, at least, and I put it at the end of my to-do list.
I settled as comfortably as I could manage onto MedSystem’s platform so it could start the rest of my repairs, then worked my way back into HubSystem and SecSystem so I could check on what everyone else was doing. As much as I just wanted to settle into a recharge while I was being fixed up, Mensah was right. I needed to be part of this team meeting, as weird as that felt. Humans didn’t usually include their SecUnits in ‘team meetings’. We were equipment, not team members.
I could see through the cameras that the PreservationAux humans were gathering in the main hub of the crew area, most of them with meal packets and mugs of beverage. Humans were always eating, it was gross. At least these ones didn’t expect me to clean up after them. I’d been on contracts before where I’d been ordered to act like some kind of low level cleaning bot, it was disgusting.
The last to arrive were Volescu and Bharadwaj, the former helping the latter to a chair. It was good to see Bharadwaj up and about again after the hostile fauna attack, though she was clearly still recovering. Once she and everyone else was settled, I felt Mensah tap me over the feed. [SecUnit? We’re about to start the meeting, are you ready to join us?]
I tapped an affirmative. [I’m listening via the SecSystem cameras, so you don’t have to talk over the feed for me,] I added. I noticed some of them exchanging uneasy glances, and I heard Pin-Lee mutter, “I’d almost forgotten about the company recording every single thing we say and do.” I didn’t blame her. Nobody liked the Corporation Rim’s constant surveillance and data mining, but we couldn’t do much about it.
Not normally, anyway. I hesitated for a moment, then said, [I can prevent HubSystem from accessing the security recordings from the main hub for the duration of this meeting, and then delete those records from SecSystem, if you prefer.] That got even more surprised reactions from most of them. Gurathin didn’t look surprised though, he just frowned thoughtfully, his arms folded. That made me a little nervous.
“You can do that?” Mensah asked, looking up at one of the cameras as though she’d be able to see me through it. I was really glad that she couldn’t. “Without… getting into trouble?”
[Technically, I’m not part of this contract, and shouldn’t be in the system at all,] I replied. [But I have experience not just in security measures, but also… countermeasures.]
“You mean hacking,” Pin-Lee said flatly. I was beginning to think I really shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I’d taken a hit to the head without noticing and it had made me stupid. More stupid. Maybe I was just too tired to think things through properly. “You’ve hacked into our systems?”
“Perhaps you should start… preventing HubSystem from listening to us before answering that,” Mensah broke in, keeping her voice calm and level.
[Acknowledged.] I froze HubSystem’s access to SecSystem’s feed and implemented my emergency routine. This was a function I’d had pre-built for a while that I could use to substitute an hour or two of ambient habitat noise in place of the visual and audio recordings HubSystem made. I’d put it together for the DeltFall habitat, so I had to adjust it on the fly to suit PreservationAux’s smaller habitat. To anyone listening to us through HubSystem, or trying to play back the recording later, it would just sound like everyone had stopped talking. I also went back and overwrote the previous few minutes with more ambient recordings, so there would be no trace of this meeting at all. [All right. We’re clear.]
“Okay. So now will you answer the question? Have you hacked into our systems?” Pin-Lee insisted. “And if so, why?”
[I wouldn’t call it hacking, really,] I started. [This is still a company system. I’m company equipment. I have all the right codes and protocols. I just… convinced your SecSystem that I’m meant to be here. From there, it’s not difficult to tweak HubSystem. As for why - I’m a SecUnit. I’m meant to work alongside a SecSystem. It felt… weird, not having one.] I hesitated for a moment before adding, [I didn’t do it until after your own SecUnit turned against you though. Someone had to look after your security.]
“But how are you ‘convincing’ SecSystem or ‘tweaking’ HubSystem at all?” Pin-Lee pressed. “Isn’t that the kind of thing that your governor module’s meant to prevent you from doing in the first place?”
I was glad nobody was in Medical to see my expression. I thought the PreservationAux humans didn’t have any familiarity with SecUnits. Apparently at least some of them knew more than I’d given them credit for. So now I had to think of a plausible explanation without giving too much away. That was harder than it sounded.
Before I could come up with something though, Gurathin cleared his throat. “It has a hacked governor module. It’s a rogue unit. That’s how.” He looked uncomfortable.
… Oh, sh*t. He knew? How did he know? How long had he known? Through the cameras, I watched the others be confused, but not alarmed, not yet. “How do you know that?” Pin-Lee asked, sounding sceptical.
Gurathin replied while I was still silently panicking. “If its governor module had been working, it would have killed the unit on the way back after the worm attack as soon as you took it too far away from its flier.” He gestured sharply with one hand. “Or it would have killed it when the last of the DeltFall team died.”
“Wait, you’re saying we could have accidentally killed it just by bringing it back to the habitat with us?” Ratthi sounded horrified. The others were reacting with various degrees of visible horror or consternation as well. “It could’ve just… died in the hopper after saving Bharadwaj and Volescu?” Their reactions now were why I’d really hoped they would never find out about that.
“Yes.” Gurathin crossed his arms again, his face creasing into a frown. “I… had suspicions when you all arrived here and it was still alive. So while it was offline in Medical I got into its internal system and accessed its log. That’s when I found out that its governor module was hacked.”
That made a depressing amount of sense. I’d been offline for around ten hours then; that was more than enough time for Gurathin to work his way in and go through my log. I didn’t know how to feel about that. He was at least a little justified in his actions, but… what else had he found out?
“So why didn’t you say anything then?” Pin-Lee demanded. “You knew it was rogue and you didn’t tell us?”
Gurathin huffed in exasperation. “It was too risky. I didn’t want to say anything that the company might record and find out later, and I also didn’t want to… risk it hearing me and feeling threatened. It’s kept its broken governor module a secret for a long time. I was worried that if it found out we knew, it might… react poorly just to protect itself. And I didn’t think it would have any reason to harm us otherwise. It had just saved Bharadwaj and Volescu, after all. I also didn’t know how our SecUnit would have reacted to that information. It might have led to a fight, with us caught in the middle. It might have led to there being two rogue units. It was just way too much of a risk, with nothing to gain.”
Again, that all made sense, at least from the information Gurathin had at the time. I didn’t know how I would have reacted if he’d revealed my broken governor module then, but I did know the other SecUnit wouldn’t have reacted well at all. SecUnits know how dangerous rogue SecUnits are, it probably would have attacked me immediately.
Mensah still looked calm, though with my access to their MedSystem I could tell from her biometrics that she was experiencing high levels of stress. “SecUnit, is there anything you’d like to add? You’ve been very quiet.”
I’d been very quiet because I’d been too busy panicking to think of anything coherent to say. That’s what I wanted to say, but I didn’t. Instead, I just said, [Gurathin is mostly right - my governor module is hacked. But I wouldn’t have done anything to hurt any of you. What I want to know though is - why bring it up now?]
“Mostly because we have much bigger problems now, and you being rogue may be an advantage,” Gurathin replied. “While you were over at DeltFall, I was going through both HubSystem and our own SecUnit’s log, trying to figure out what made it… turn against us. I found out two things. First, I discovered a strange access code buried in HubSystem that let some unknown outside party send periodic commands to it. Whoever put it there can’t use it to see our feed or access our audio or visual data, but it did let them remove information from our info and map package, and also sent a command to the hopper’s autopilot to fail on your trip to survey that blank map area. I’ve isolated it from HubSystem so it can no longer affect it, while hopefully not giving away the fact that we know about it.”
Mensah frowned slightly and nodded. “I remember the autopilot cutting out. I thought it was just a glitch.” I kind of regretted not mentioning what I’d noticed about the autopilot and HubSystem to Mensah at the time. Maybe if I had, we would have found the access code much sooner. “What was the second thing?”
“There was an automatic patch update downloaded from the satellite.” Gurathin shifted a little to face the others. “Our SecUnit had to apply it, that’s how these automatic patch downloads work. Except this one wasn’t an official patch. Someone used it to give our SecUnit orders to transfer control of our HubSystem, SecSystem and MedSystem to an outside party, and kill us all.”
I felt a weird sense of deja vu in my organic parts that I did my best to ignore. [So did it actually transfer control? And why didn’t it kill Ratthi when he was right there?] Maybe I hadn’t been so far off the mark with what I’d told Ratthi back when we were both in Medical.
Gurathin took a breath before continuing. “It tried to fight the orders. It managed to prioritise attacking Mensah before doing anything else, because Mensah was the survey leader, and she was with the other SecUnit from DeltFall. The only thing here that could stop a SecUnit was another SecUnit.” Gurathin tapped my feed to let me know he was now addressing me directly. “It hoped that you would be able to stop it before it could actually kill anyone.”
It had worked, but now I felt even more awful about how I’d killed it outright. It hadn’t been rogue, like I’d initially thought. It had just been under someone else’s orders, compelled to obey even though it didn’t want to, and it had done what it could to mitigate the damage. It had even tried to help me when I first arrived at the PreservationAux habitat, damaged and leaking.
And then I’d killed it, even though I had no compulsion other than my own anger to do so.
I was really glad that nobody could see me right now.
There was silence for a while as everyone absorbed and considered what Gurathin had said. Then Volescu shook himself off and looked back to Mensah. “So someone deliberately sabotaged both our HubSystem and our SecUnit, and the DeltFall SecUnit we have with us now is actually a rogue. Where does that leave us?”
“That’s a good question.” Mensah looked around at everyone in the room before looking back up at one of the cameras. “SecUnit - you haven’t had to listen to us, or work with us, the entire time you’ve been here, but you have. You’ve protected us even though you had no directive to. I would like you to remain a part of our group, at least until we get off this planet and back to safety. And I swear that none of us will tell the company or anyone else about your broken governor module.”
I sighed wearily, though I didn’t let that over the feed. [It doesn’t matter if you don’t tell anyone,] I replied. [The company will figure it out as soon as they get here. I should already be dead at least twice over. There won’t be any hiding the fact that something’s wrong with my governor module from them.]
In the camera feed, I watched them exchange uneasy glances. “So… what will happen to you then?” Ratthi asked hesitantly.
I tried not to sound as tired as I felt. [If I’m lucky, they’ll just fix my governor module and wipe my memory again. If I’m not, they’ll decommission me. Recycle my organic bits and disassemble the rest for spare parts.]
More uneasy looks. I wished this topic hadn’t come up. Ratthi then frowned and went, “Wait, wipe your memory again? What do you mean again?”
[SecUnits have our memories purged on a regular basis,] I said. [Sometimes it’s because our last contract involved proprietary data, or because things went wrong, or we got badly damaged, or just because the company feels like it. I’ve had multiple, though don’t ask me how many, I don’t remember. My last one was approximately 35,000 hours ago. Again, don’t ask me why I was wiped then, I don’t remember.] That wasn’t entirely true, but it was something I really didn’t want to talk about. At all. Ever. [This isn’t relevant to the current situation though.] I really didn’t want them asking more questions about me, or reminding me of what would happen when the company finally arrived to pick everyone up.
Mensah nodded. “You’re right. I just want to ask though - what do you want to do? Are you willing to remain a part of our group for now?”
It’s not like I had anything else to do or anywhere else to go. I suppose I could just fly off into space and spend the rest of my power cell life watching my stored media while floating in the void, but I’d run out of media long before I ran out of power, and that sounded like a stupid, boring way to die. [I’m staying,] I answered. [This GrayCris group killed all my clients. I’m not going to let them kill you too.]
“GrayCris?” Volescu raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recognise that name. What did you find out over at DeltFall, anyway? Apart from everyone being dead. Did their SecUnits get sabotaged as well?”
That’s right, nobody had filled in the humans who’d stayed back at the PreservationAux habitat on the details of what had happened over at DeltFall yet. Mensah paused for a moment before replying. “As far as we can tell, two of the DeltFall units and two other SecUnits from another survey group were responsible for killing all of the DeltFall survey team. The third DeltFall SecUnit looked like it had been killed by the others.” She passed an image of the unfamiliar survey group’s logo to the feed for everyone to view. “It seems that there’s another survey group on the planet. Looks like they’re called GrayCris. SecUnit said that the company could have been bribed to conceal their presence from the rest of us.”
“Could the company be in on this?” Overse asked, as Arada reached out to hold her hand. “Trying to kill us all, I mean?”
[Doubtful,] I replied. [You purchased a bond agreement that the company would guarantee your safety or pay compensation in the event of your death or injury. Even if the company couldn’t be held liable, they’d still have to make the payment to your heirs. DeltFall was a large operation.] I had to pause for a moment before continuing. [The death payout for them alone will be huge. And the company hates spending money. If everyone believes the clients were killed by faulty SecUnits, the payment would be even bigger once all the lawsuits were filed.]
On the cameras I could see them nod and look thoughtful as they absorbed that information. “So the company took a bribe to conceal this third survey group, but not to let them kill us,” Overse said. One of the good things about scientist clients is that they’re quick on the uptake. “That means we just need to stay alive long enough for the pick-up transport to get here. If we can signal it to arrive early.” She frowned. “That’s going to be difficult with both our and DeltFall’s emergency beacons destroyed though.”
“But how are they doing this?” Arada gestured with one hand. “They must have taken control of the satellite, that’s how they got the patch to our SecUnit. Is that what happened to the DeltFall units as well?”
[I don’t think so,] I replied. [If it was, then there would have been no reason for one of the three DeltFall units to have been killed outside the hub by a mining drill. It looked like it had been defending the hub. If the DeltFall group refused the download because of the missing survey package data and map sections, and maybe even my crash, then the two GrayCris units could have been sent to manually infect the DeltFall units.] I really should have taken the time to check the DeltFall units for combat override modules, but it was too late now.
Ratthi was staring into the distance, and through the feed I saw he was reviewing my field camera video of the DeltFall habitat. “I agree, but it would mean the DeltFall group allowed the unknown units into their habitat.”
It was likely. I’d checked to make sure all our transports were there, but I hadn’t been able to tell if another one had landed and taken off again at some point. I took a moment to do a quick check of the security feed to see how our perimeter was doing. The drones I’d set up after I’d killed the PreservationAux SecUnit were still patrolling and the sensor alarms still responded to pings.
“But why? Why allow a strange group into their habitat?” Overse asked. “A group whose existence had been concealed from them?”
[They probably arrived asking for help,] I admitted. [A strange survey group landing, all friendly, saying they had just arrived and they’d had some kind of equipment failure, or a problem with their MedSystem, and they needed our help? The DeltFall team would have let them in. Even if I or the other SecUnits advised them not to, that it was against company safety protocol… they’d still want to help.] And having my advice ignored was something I was very used to. Not that I’m bitter or anything. A lot of the company’s rules are stupid or arbitrary or just there to increase profit, but some of them are there for very good reason. Not letting strangers into your habitat is one of them.
Mensah had been quiet, listening to us. She said, “I think it was easier than that. I think they said they were us.”
It was so simple. I saw everyone turn to look at her as she continued, her brow furrowed in thought. “So GrayCris land, say they’re us, that they need help. If they have access to the satellite, which they obviously do, listening to our comm would be easy.”
“And DeltFall would have had no reason to not let them in, if they thought the GrayCris people were us,” Pin-Lee added, looking grim. “We’d already established a connection, so GrayCris took advantage of that.”
[They won’t do that when they come here, I said. And they will, sooner or later.] It all depended on what GrayCris had, whether they had come prepared to get rid of any other survey teams on the planet, or had made that decision after they got here. They could have armed air vehicles like my flier, Combat SecUnits, armed drones. I pulled a few examples from the database and dropped them into the feed for the humans to view.
MedSystem’s feed informed me that most of their heart rates had just accelerated. Mensah’s hadn’t, because she’d already thought of all this. Nervously, Ratthi said, “So… what do we do when they come here?”
I said, [Be somewhere else.]
It may seem weird that Mensah was the only one to think of abandoning the habitat while we figured out what to do next, but these weren’t intrepid galactic explorers. They were just people doing a job who had suddenly found themselves in a terrible situation.
And if the company had done its job like it normally did, it would’ve been hammered into the PreservationAux humans from their pre-trip orientation, to the waivers they had to sign for the company, to the survey packages with all the hazard information, to their on-site briefing by their own SecUnit that this was an unknown, potentially dangerous region on a mostly unsurveyed planet. If their survey was run anything like DeltFall’s, they weren’t supposed to leave the habitat without security precautions, and probably weren’t even supposed to do overnight assessment trips. The idea that they might have to stuff both hoppers full of emergency supplies and run for it, and that it would be safer than their habitat, was hard to grasp.
We couldn’t go immediately, either. Mensah refused to leave until MedSystem had completed my repairs and the drones had finished fixing up my flier. I didn’t like the delay, but it made sense. I was their only real defence, and I would be able to do so better if I was back up to full performance reliability, or at least as close as I could get.
I advised them over the feed on what they should take and what they should leave behind. I got the box of drones I’d brought back from DeltFall activated and working, and sent some of them out to join the others I’d set up to monitor the security perimeter, expanding it as far as it could go. One of my inputs was firmly fixed on the habitat’s scanners and monitoring them constantly so I’d get some warning as soon as anything came within range.
I also made some estimates on travel times and distances to figure out a rough timeline of when we could expect GrayCris to arrive. The GrayCris habitat obviously wasn’t set up anywhere in either PreservationAux or DeltFall’s own survey areas, but that still left a lot of planet where they could be located. If we were lucky, it wouldn’t be anywhere too close to our own habitat. (I didn’t like relying on luck though, you could never depend on it.)
I had my fresh flight suit that I’d brought back from DeltFall, but I also made sure that the armour we’d brought back as well was put into the security room reclaimer for repairs. If I had to get into a fight with anything without my flier, I’d feel much better if I had proper armour to use. The way us murderbots fight is we throw ourselves at the target and try to kill the sh*t out of it, knowing that 90 percent of our bodies can be regrown or replaced in a cubicle. So, finesse is not required. Granted, I hadn’t had access to a cubicle since I’d crashed, but MedSystem was almost as good.
When we left the habitat, I wouldn’t have access to either a cubicle or MedSystem. And GrayCris might have actual combat bots rather than security bots like me. In which case, our only chance was going to be keeping away from them until the pick-up transport arrived. My flier didn’t have the right armaments to deal with actual combat bots; the energy weapons would take too long to get through their armour to do any real damage.
I’d included in my damage report to Mensah that I’d need assistance with repairing my broken spine port, so at some point when everyone else was busy packing what they’d need to take into the hoppers, she stopped by Medical to check on me. It was good timing; I had just shifted to lie on my stomach, my head pillowed on my freshly repaired arms, so MedSystem could start working on the damage to my back.
I accessed Medical’s cameras so I could see Mensah properly without having to move my head, and noticed her grimace slightly when she got a good look at the mess that was my back. She quickly smoothed her expression out though and moved towards the head of the platform I was on. I had my eyes closed - there was nothing in Medical that I needed or wanted to see while I was being repaired, and most of my attention was on my various camera and drone inputs, along with the habitat’s scanners and the progress of the repair drones. I didn’t bother opening them; that was what the cameras were for.
“SecUnit?” Mensah asked quietly. “How are you doing?”
“Better,” I replied vaguely. “I’m monitoring the drones out on the perimeter, but they haven’t picked up anything. The habitat’s scanners also haven’t spotted anything approaching yet. I’m monitoring comms as well, though with the satellite still down we don’t have much range on that. Nothing’s coming through on that yet either. I’ve also run scans on the hoppers’ systems to make sure there won’t be any more autopilot surprises, and checked through HubSystem and SecSystem to confirm there’s no other access codes or anything else that might’ve been missed earlier, and that the one Gurathin found is properly isolated. It hasn’t received any new orders yet though, so I haven’t been able to try a trace on it.”
Mensah looked a little surprised. “You’re doing all that at the same time as being repaired?”
“Yes?” I was kind of confused by her surprise. “I’m a SecUnit. I’m just doing security. That’s what I’m for. Monitoring inputs and running system checks doesn’t take much effort.” It was taking enough of my attention that I could only play background music instead of watching any of my serials as well though, but she didn’t need to know that.
Through Medical’s cameras, I saw her brow furrow slightly before smoothing out again. “All right. I saw your damage report, and it mentioned that you need help with one of your spine ports?”
“Yes. Since it’s a SecUnit specific thing, MedSystem doesn’t know how to deal with that, so it will need to be manually directed. But I have to be offline for that kind of repair, so I can’t direct MedSystem myself.” I didn’t like needing help, or having to be offline for it. It made me feel uncomfortably vulnerable. Especially after learning that the last time I’d been offline here, someone had gotten into my log without me even being aware of it and found out things I’d really rather they hadn’t. “It’s not a vital repair though, I can still use the rest of my spine ports, so… you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” I kind of hoped she’d take the out I’d given her.
Mensah shook her head. “I’d feel better if we got that taken care of, just in case,” she said. “Also, I was thinking...” She hesitated for a moment before pressing on. “Your data port… if someone managed to get an override module into it somehow, would it still work on you with your governor module hacked?”
“It would,” I confirmed. “It overrides everything, including the governor module. Otherwise the two remaining DeltFall units would have been killed by their governor modules as soon as the last of our clients died.”
Mensah’s mouth thinned for a moment before she spoke again. “So am I right in assuming that you would prefer to… not have that particular vulnerability? I know I’d feel better if I was sure that nobody else could override you.”
I paused for several seconds, long enough that even a human would notice. Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting? I had to make sure. “What do you mean?”
“Would we be able to use MedSystem to disable your data port?”
The idea hadn’t even occurred to me. The more I thought about it though, the more I wanted to. Mensah was right that my data port was a vulnerability that I would rather not have. But at the same time… “You trust me enough to willingly remove the last method of being able to control me?”
“I think you’ve done more than enough to earn that trust,” Mensah replied softly. My insides did something twisty. I was grateful that most of my face was hidden by my arms. “And I've never approved of the idea of controlling anyone like that, anyway,” Mensah added. “Besides, you’re trusting me enough to go offline while your spine port is repaired. That’s a terribly vulnerable position to knowingly put yourself in.”
That made me pause again. I hadn’t thought about it like that. I didn’t like the necessity, but it was just something that needed to be done. The idea of trust hadn’t even come into it.
Or maybe it had, subconsciously, but I just hadn’t been paying attention. There had been a lot going on over the past couple of days. But I’d sent my damage report to Mensah, not any of the others, and not just because she was the survey captain. I deliberately thought about asking any of the other PreservationAux humans to help fix my spine port; there was a definite difference in my gut reaction to that idea compared to the thought of Mensah doing it. Did I actually trust Mensah? It wasn’t like it was a priority repair; I could have just not said anything about the spine port, and she never would have known.
“... You didn’t abandon me, even though I told you to,” I finally said, quietly enough that Mensah had to move a little closer to hear me. “I’m not even your SecUnit, but you still risked yourself to save me. You killed another SecUnit to protect me.” I couldn’t think of any other human I’d worked for that would have done anything like that. Maybe I did trust Mensah. At least a little. Enough to believe that she wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. “Plus it would be stupid for you to disable me now, and I don’t think you’d be that stupid.”
Through the cameras, I watched Mensah’s expression shift in a way I couldn’t interpret, before smoothing out into calmness again. “It would be rather stupid, yes,” she agreed mildly. “So, can we disable your data port? How should we go about that?”
“Give me a minute…” At some point soon after my last memory wipe, I’d gotten a download from the company containing my full schematics; it’s what had let me figure out how to hack my governor module. I pulled it out of my archives and inspected the section on the data port, then wrote up another set of instructions for how to get MedSystem to disable it without messing up anything else. Theoretically. Hopefully.
Once I was done, I pushed it into the feed for Mensah to take as well. “There. I’ll need to be offline for that, too. You should be able to take care of that and the spine port at the same time.” I also sent a file containing my timing estimates of when we could expect GrayCris to show up. “We should have a few hours at least, but I wouldn’t risk staying here much longer than that.”
Mensah accepted the files and took a minute to skim through my timing estimates. “Noted. All right, are you ready?”
I quickly set up all my drone and comm inputs and the habitat’s scanners to alert the PreservationAux feed if they picked up anything, made sure my ambient habitat noise routine was still running for HubSystem, then double-checked the instructions I’d sent, more out of nerves than anything else. “Yes. I’m going offline now.”
Then I started my recharge cycle, and went offline.
I cycled back up out of my recharge cycle feeling better than I had since I’d crashed, despite the dull ache lingering at the base of my neck. A quick diagnostic informed me that MedSystem had finished my repairs, my spine port was fixed, and my data port had been successfully disconnected. The repair drones had also done as much as they could with my flier; it wasn’t fully repaired, since the repair drones hadn’t been able to replace all the missing pieces on the undercarriage, but it at least had rudimentary landing gear now and it wasn’t at risk of shaking itself to pieces mid-air if I manoeuvred too sharply. I directed the repair drones into the big hopper's cargo pod; there was no way I was going to leave them behind.
I got up off MedSystem’s platform, picked up all my inputs again, and checked on the humans as I pulled on my waiting suit skin. It looked like they’d finished packing most of what they wanted to take into the hoppers, and Mensah had also made sure everyone had gotten at least some sleep between everything else. There still hadn’t been any alerts from the perimeter or scanners, which was a relief. I sent Mensah a ping to let her know I was awake again and started pulling on my flight suit.
Mensah replied immediately, asking over a private feed connection if the data port disconnection had worked. I sent a confirmation, but before either of us could say anything else, I lost contact with one of the perimeter drones to the far south. I hurriedly finished fastening my flight suit as I called over the comm, “They’re coming! We need to get into the air, now!”
I rushed to the Security ready room to grab the freshly repaired armour - there was no time to figure out how to put it on over my flight suit, but I’d probably want it later - and hurried out to my flier. The humans were also rushing around, taking last-minute supplies out to the hoppers as I stowed the armour in my flier’s storage compartment alongside my projectile weapon. The drones I didn’t have deployed were resting in my flight suit’s pockets, and I pulled a few more off the northern perimeter to station them strategically in and around the habitat.
It was unexpectedly stressful, waiting for the humans to reach the hoppers. Volescu came out with Bharadwaj, and I went over to help him get her across the uneven ground and into the little hopper more quickly. Overse and Arada weren’t far behind them, bags slung over their shoulders, and they were yelling at Ratthi behind them to hurry up. Gurathin was already in the big hopper, while Pin-Lee and Mensah left the habitat last.
They split up, with Pin-Lee, Volescu, and Bharadwaj taking the little hopper, while everyone else went to the big one. As soon as they were all on board, the hopper hatches closing behind them, I sprinted to my own flier and vaulted into the co*ckpit. By the time the canopy had closed and I’d linked up, the hoppers were in the air, and I took off in their wake, then swiftly passed them to take the lead. It was such a relief to be mostly whole and back in the air again, despite the highly stressful situation.
We were assuming that GrayCris didn’t know that we knew they were here, and that they would only send one ship to our habitat. They would be expecting to catch us on the ground, and would probably come in prepared to destroy the hoppers to keep us there, then start on the people. So now that we knew they were coming from the south, we were free to pick a direction. I curved away towards the west, and the two hoppers followed.
I just hoped that whatever vehicle GrayCris was using didn’t have a longer range on its scanners than ours did.
Most of the drones I still had deployed were gathering at a rendezvous point near the habitat. I had a calculation going, estimating the bogie’s time of arrival. Right before we passed out of range, I told the group of drones to head north-east. Within moments, they dropped out of my range. They would follow their last instruction until their power cells ran out.
I was hoping GrayCris would pick them up and follow. As soon as they had a visual on our habitat they’d see the hoppers were gone and know that we’d left. They might stop to search the habitat, but they also might start looking for our escape route. It was impossible to predict which one they’d do.
But as we flew, curving away towards the distant mountains, nothing followed us.
Chapter Six
While I’d been shut down for repairs, the humans had debated where to go. We knew that GrayCris had had at least some access to PreservationAux’s HubSystem, and while they hadn’t been able to view their video or audio data, they likely knew all the places PreservationAux had been to on assessments. So we had to go somewhere new.
After showing me some of the options they’d come up with, we decided on a spot that Overse and Ratthi had suggested. It was a series of rocky hills in a thick tropical jungle, heavily occupied by a large range of fauna, enough to confuse life-sign scans.
When we arrived, I circled overhead while Mensah and Pin-Lee lowered the hoppers down and eased them in among rocky cliffs, using my vantage point to help them adjust their position until they were as hidden as we could get them. Only then did I come down to land as well, releasing a couple of my drones so I could double check my own concealment. Then I disconnected from my flier and set up a perimeter with my drones.
It didn’t feel safe, and while there were a couple of survival hut kits in the hoppers, nobody suggested putting them up. The humans would stay in the hoppers for now, communicating over the comm and the hoppers’ limited feed. It wasn’t going to be comfortable for them (sanitary and hygiene facilities were small and limited, for one thing) but it would be more secure. Fauna of varying sizes moved within range of our scanners, inquisitive and potentially as dangerous as the people who wanted to kill the humans I’d adopted as my unofficial clients.
I went out with some of my drones to do a little scouting and make sure there were no signs of anything big enough to, say, drag the little hopper or my flier off in the middle of the night. It gave me a chance to think, too.
These humans knew about my governor module, or lack thereof, but had just… accepted it, and had even sworn not to report it to anyone. Even though it wouldn’t help, the fact that they’d made that offer in the first place made my emotions do things I had no way to untangle or interpret. I had to think about what I wanted to do.
It’s wrong to think of a construct as half bot, half human. It makes it sound like the halves are discrete, like the bot half should want to obey orders and do its job, and the human half should want to protect itself and get the hell out of here. As opposed to the reality, which was that I was one whole confused entity, with only the vaguest idea of what I wanted, or should do, or needed to do.
I’d already dedicated myself to protecting them from GrayCris. That wasn’t going to change. Like I’d said to them before, I’d lost all my DeltFall clients, I wasn’t going to lose them too. I wasn’t going to let GrayCris win. But after that, when the company arrived to pick them up…
Well, I’d already determined that just flying off into space was a stupid idea. It’s not like I could get through a wormhole by myself, so I wouldn’t be able to go far. Staying here on the planet was an even worse idea. My specs told me that my power cells would last for hundreds of thousands of hours. That was a hellishly long time to be stranded alone on a planet with only a few hundred hours of entertainment media. I obviously didn’t want to go back to the company, either. After everything that had happened here, there was no way they would overlook my broken governor module. If the company got their hands on me again, that was it for me.
I didn’t have a lot of options. The only thing that I knew I wanted for sure was to still be able to fly.
Overse had set up some remote sensing equipment that would help warn us if anything tried to scan the area. As the humans climbed back into the two hoppers, I did a quick headcount on the feed, making sure nobody had wandered off into the jungle. Mensah waited on the ramp, indicating that she wanted to talk to me in private.
I muted my feed and the comm, and she said, “I know this is probably going to sound like a strange request, but… it would make things easier for us if we could actually see your face.”
I froze for a moment, baffled and uneasy. I’d already spent far more time than I was comfortable with involuntarily in situations where they could see my face. I didn’t want to add to that voluntarily. “It’s usually better if humans think of me as a robot,” I said after some hesitation.
“Maybe, under normal circ*mstances,” Mensah replied, her gaze flickering to my faceplate and away again, as if she wasn’t sure where to look. “But a lot has happened over the past couple of days. The situation has changed drastically. It would be better if they don’t think of you as just a robot, but as a person who is trying to help.” She took a breath, then added, “Because that’s how I think of you.”
My insides melted. That’s the only way I could describe it. But still, I was reluctant. I didn’t want anyone getting too attached to me. It would only hurt them more when the company arrived to pick them up and I was… taken away. Mensah must have picked up on my reluctance, because she added softly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I would be grateful for it.”
I sighed internally, took a moment to make sure my expression was under control, then cleared the faceplate and had it and the helmet fold back into my flight suit.
Mensah smiled, relieved, and murmured, “Thank you.” She tried to catch my gaze, but I couldn’t do it, not now, and I had to look away. I didn’t see her reaction, and a moment later she went back into the hopper. I trailed after her.
The others were stowing the equipment and supplies that had gotten tossed in right before takeoff. “—If they restore the satellite function,” Ratthi was saying.
“They won’t risk that until – unless they get us,” Arada replied.
Over the comm, Pin-Lee sighed, angry and frustrated. “If only we knew what these assholes are actually after.”
“We need to talk about our next move.” Mensah cut through all the chatter and took a seat in the back where she could see the whole compartment. The others sat down to face her, Ratthi turning one of the mobile seats around. I sat down on the bench against the starboard wall. The feed gave us a view of the little hopper’s compartment, with the rest of the team sitting there, checking in to show they were listening. “If we can figure out what it is that they want, we’ll be able to better plan what to do next.”
“It has to have something to do with those blanked-out sections on the map,” Overse said. She was calling up the stored images on her feed. “There’s obviously something there they want, that they didn’t want us or DeltFall to find. We’d been here for over twenty days before anything started going wrong. They must have found something recently, and that’s what prompted them to act.”
Mensah got up to pace, not that there was a lot of room for that. “Have you turned up anything in the analysis?”
In the feed, Arada did a quick consult with Bharadwaj and Volescu. “Not yet, but we haven't finished running all the tests. We haven’t found anything interesting so far, but there has to be something.” She nodded in my direction. “SecUnit’s flier wouldn’t have crashed otherwise.”
“Do you still have any of the scrambled code that your scanners pulled up?” Mensah asked me.
I had to think about that for a moment. “I’d have to check my flier’s buffers. I cleared out as much of it as I could during repairs - I didn’t want it messing anything up again. I don’t know if there would be anything useful though. It was a completely incomprehensible mess.”
“See what you can recover later, please, and transfer it to us for analysis,” Mensah requested, and I nodded.
“Did GrayCris really expect to get away with this?” Ratthi abruptly turned to me, like he was expecting an answer. “Obviously, they can hack the company systems and the satellite, and they intend to put the blame on the SecUnits, but… the investigation will surely be thorough. They must know this.”
There were too many factors in play, and too many things we didn’t know, and these humans weren’t even actually my clients, but I’m supposed to answer direct questions and even without the governor module, old habits die hard. “They may believe the company and whoever your beneficiaries are won’t look any further than the rogue SecUnits. But they can’t make two whole survey teams disappear unless their corporate or political entity doesn’t care about them.” I shrugged. “I can only guess at DeltFall’s. Does yours?”
That made them all stare at me, for some reason. I had to turn and look out the viewport. I desperately wanted to seal my helmet again, but Mensah’s request and relief replayed in my mind, and I managed not to.
“That’s right, you wouldn’t know,” Volescu said over the comm after an awkward moment. “You wouldn’t have any reason to have gotten any actual information about us.” Thankfully, that made the others nod and relax, and more importantly, stop staring directly at me.
“Dr. Mensah is our political entity,” Ratthi continued, and I glanced at him just long enough to see that he was smiling gently at me. “Preservation Alliance is a non-corporate system entity. Dr. Mensah is the current admin director on the steering committee.”
“It’s an elected position, with a limited term,” Mensah continued with a wry little twist of her mouth. “But one of the principles of our home is that our admins must also continue our regular work. My regular work required this survey, so here I am, and here we all are.” She spread her hands to indicate everyone in the two hoppers.
I had to take a moment to process that. They’d sent arguably one of the most important people of their polity on this survey of a dangerous, uninhabited planet? That was entirely unlike any of the corporations I’d been contracted to before. I was still trying to make sense of it when Ratthi added, “You know, in Preservation-controlled territory, bots are considered full citizens. A construct would fall under the same category.” He said this in the tone of giving me a hint. Arada and Overse both nodded with smiles of their own, silently supporting Ratthi’s words.
Whatever. Bots who are “full citizens” still need a human or augmented human guardian appointed; I’d seen it on the news feeds and in the entertainment feeds. In the entertainment feeds, the bots had all been happy servants (gross), or secretly in love with their guardians. (Even more gross.) If it had ever shown the bots hanging out watching the entertainment feed all through the day cycle with nobody trying to have conversations with them, or out piloting fliers where nobody could talk to them, I would have been a lot more interested. But even if I was somehow able to become a “full citizen” of Preservation, it was very likely that I wouldn’t be allowed to fly. That appealed to me even less than the idea of having a “guardian”. (Which was just a nicer word for “owner”.) I didn’t bother replying to Ratthi, and instead glanced over at Mensah. “So the company knows who you are?”
“Oh yes, they know,” Pin-Lee spoke up over the comm from the smaller hopper. “You wouldn’t believe what we had to pay to guarantee the bond on the survey. These corporate bastards are absolute thieves.”
It meant if we ever managed to launch a beacon, the company wouldn’t screw around. The transport would get here fast. No bribe from GrayCris or anyone else could stop it. The company might even send a faster security ship to check out the problem before the transport could arrive. The bond on a political leader was high, but the payout the company would have to make if something happened to her was off the charts. The huge payout, being humiliated in front of the other bond companies and in the news feeds… I had to think about it.
It was a good bet that GrayCris didn’t know who they were dealing with. Mensah’s status was most likely only stored in the Security info packet on SecSystem, which they’d never managed to get access to, as far as I knew. The duelling investigations if something happened to PreservationAux was bound to be thorough, as the company would be desperate for someone to blame it on and the beneficiaries would be desperate to blame it on the company. Neither would be fooled long by the rogue SecUnit setup.
I couldn’t figure out how we could use it, not right now, anyway. It didn’t comfort me and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t comfort the humans to know that the stupid company would avenge them if and/or when they all got murdered. Not that I had any intention of letting them get murdered, but still. I was just one SecUnit, and we had no idea what we were actually up against.
Apparently I’d been thinking too hard for too long and it had shown on my face, or something, because Mensah sent me a private message through the feed. [Are you all right?]
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. [I’m just thinking,] I replied after a moment. [GrayCris most likely doesn’t know who you are. They don’t know how thoroughly the company will investigate this. If they knew… I don’t know if it would change anything. I don’t know what to do that will help.]
[You can help just by being yourself,] Mensah replied. [I don’t have any experience in anything like this. None of us do.] Sometimes humans can’t help but let emotion bleed through into the feed. She was furious and frightened, not at me, but at GrayCris. At people who would do anything like this, slaughter a whole survey team and leave the SecUnits to take the blame. She was struggling with her anger, though nothing showed on her face except calm concern. Through the feed I felt her steel herself. [You’re the only one who won’t panic. The longer this situation goes on, the others… we have to stay together, use our heads.]
That was absolutely true. And I could help, just by being the SecUnit, even though I wasn’t their SecUnit. I was the one who was supposed to keep everybody safe. (I tried not to think about how badly I’d failed that with my actual clients.) [I panic all the time, you just can’t see it,] I told her, adding the text signifier for “joke”.
She didn’t answer, but looked down, smiling to herself.
Ratthi was saying, “There’s another question. Where are they? They came toward our habitat from the south, but that doesn’t tell us anything.”
I said, “I left three of my drones at your habitat. They don’t have any scanning function since they’re not connected to your HubSystem, but the audio and visual recording still work. They might pick up something that will help answer that.”
I’d left one drone in a tree with a long-range view of the habitat and the landing pads for the hoppers, one tucked under the extendable roof over the main entrance, and one inside the hub, hidden under a console. They were on the next setting to inert, recording only, so if GrayCris scanned (which they likely would, they’d have to be stupid not to), the drones would be buried in the ambient energy readings from the habitat’s environmental system. I hadn’t bothered connecting the drones to PreservationAux’s SecSystem so it could store the data and filter out the boring parts. I knew GrayCris would check for that, which was why I had dumped SecSystem’s storage into the big hopper’s system and then purged it before we left.
I also didn’t want them knowing anything about me. I really hoped that GrayCris hadn’t figured out that the DeltFall flier/SecUnit was now with PreservationAux. If GrayCris had gone back to the DeltFall habitat to pick up the SecUnits they’d left there though, it was a pretty futile hope. The damage left on the two remaining DeltFall units by the energy blasts from my flier were pretty distinctive. It wouldn’t take them much effort to puzzle things out from that. (Or maybe I was giving GrayCris too much credit. I hoped I was giving them too much credit. Still, I wasn’t going to rely on them being stupid.)
Everyone was looking at me again, and once again I had to shift to look out the viewport so I could avoid their gazes. They seemed surprised that I had a plan, and frankly I didn’t blame them. Our education modules don’t have anything like that in them, but all the thrillers and adventures I’d watched or read were finally starting to come in handy. Mensah lifted her brows in appreciation, then said, “But you can’t pick up their signal from here.”
“No, I’ll have to go back to get them."
Pin-Lee leaned further into the little hopper’s camera range. “I should be able to attach one of the small scanners to one of your drones, if you’re okay with that,” she suggested to me. “It’ll be bulky and slow, but that would give us something other than just audio and visual.”
I nodded in agreement; it was a good idea, and I had enough drones that I could spare one. Mensah added, “Do it, but remember our resources are limited.” She tapped me in the feed so I’d know she was talking to me. “How long do you think GrayCris will stay at our habitat?”
There was a groan from Volescu in the other hopper. “All our samples. We have our data, but if they destroy our work–”
The others were agreeing with him, expressing frustration and worry. I tuned them out, and answered Mensah. “I don’t think they’ll stay long. There’s nothing there that they would want.”
For just an instant, Mensah let her expression show just how worried she was. “Because they want us,” she replied softly.
She was absolutely right about that, too.
Mensah set up a watch schedule, including time for me to go into standby so I could do a diagnostic and recharge cycle. I was also planning on using the time to watch some Sanctuary Moon and recharge my ability to cope with humans at close quarters without losing my mind. I’d gone through my flier’s buffers and had managed to isolate a decently sized sample of the strange code my scanners had pulled in from the blank map area, then transferred that to the humans so they could analyse it at some point.
Once the humans had settled down, either sleeping or deep in their own feeds, I walked the perimeter and checked my drones. The night was noisier than the day, but so far nothing larger than insects and a few reptiles had come near the hoppers or my flier. When I had completed my perimeter check, I found a spot near my flier where I could stand and look out through a gap in the canopy overhead. The night was clear, with a myriad of bright stars dusting the sky. I could also see part of the planet’s ring, the outer edges catching the sunlight while the planet’s shadow darkened the rest to near-invisibility. Without my helmet on, the view was somehow clearer than I usually saw it, despite my vision filters compensating for my faceplate. It was nice. Soothing.
I was contemplating which one of my music playlists to start running in the background when I heard footsteps crunching over the leaf litter towards me. I didn’t bother turning to face it though; one of my drones had already identified Gurathin approaching me. It was pretty obvious that he wanted to talk to me; I made sure to keep my sigh internal and my expression neutral.
He came to a halt nearby and took a moment to look up through the canopy gap at the sky as well. “Impressive view,” he commented quietly. I just nodded, not taking my gaze off said view. We stood there in silence for two minutes and thirteen seconds before Gurathin finally sighed and said, “I need to apologise.”
Of everything that Gurathin could have said, that wasn’t even remotely close to anything I’d been expecting. “What for?” I hoped I didn’t look or sound as surprised as I felt.
“For violating your privacy as thoroughly as I did.” He shifted his weight and folded his arms. “I believed that I had good reason to at the time, but that still doesn’t excuse it.”
I couldn’t entirely hide my confusion. The company, and corporations in general in the Corporation Rim violated everyone’s privacy on a constant basis, so the thought of someone actually apologising for it threw me more than I cared to admit. And Gurathin was right when he said that he had good reason at the time. If I’d been in his position, I most likely would have done the same thing. “I don’t understand why you’d apologise for that.”
“Because people in Preservation actually respect others’ privacy,” Gurathin replied flatly. My drone saw him shift again so he could stare at what little he could see of my face. Given the night time darkness, that probably wasn’t a lot. At least my drones and I had the benefit of night vision filters. “Aren’t you angry about it?”
I had to think about that for a moment before I replied. “Maybe a little at the time? Mostly I was too busy panicking.” I shrugged. “If I stayed angry at everything humans did to me, I’d be angry all the time, and that’s both stupid and exhausting.”
Gurathin’s brow furrowed in a frown. “That’s very… forgiving of you.”
It wasn’t anything of the sort, but if that’s what Gurathin wanted to believe, that was fine by me. I had no desire to clarify. I just shrugged again and stayed silent, hoping that he’d gotten what he wanted and he’d go away again.
No such luck. Gurathin stayed right where he was, still watching whatever he could see of me in the dark. I remained motionless and continued to look up at the sky. Finally he sighed and shifted his weight again to lean against a tree. “I also have a question.”
I waited for him to continue, but after a long moment of silence I realised that he was waiting for my permission. That was weirdly new, and it was tempting to ignore him. But he had made the effort to apologise, even though I’d never expected anything like that, and I was at least a little curious as to what he’d ask. “Go ahead.”
“Do you remember anything about what happened at Ganaka?”
I froze. I hadn’t realised he’d gotten that far into my log, although in hindsight I should have expected it. What happened at the Ganaka settlement was why I’d hacked my governor module in the first place. What I said before, about how I hacked my governor module but didn’t become a war criminal? That was only kind of true.
I was already a war criminal.
Not deliberately, or at least, I didn’t think I'd done it deliberately. I didn’t know for sure. But still. It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about. It wasn’t something I wanted to even think about. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m not asking to… upset you, or anything,” Gurathin replied, rubbing his face with one hand. “I just… I had a friend at Ganaka when it happened.” I heard him sigh. “I was on my way to visit them when I saw the first newsbursts about it.”
… Oh.
I didn’t know what to say. But stuff like this had come up in some of the serials I’d watched, and I ran a quick search to see what the average response in them had been. “... I’m sorry.” It seemed vastly inadequate.
Gurathin made a quiet noise I couldn’t interpret, then remained silent for another minute and six seconds before speaking up again. “I was never quite sure if I could believe the company’s PR spin on the whole mess. If you remember anything…”
“I don’t, not really,” I said after a long moment. “Not clearly. The company wiped my memory very thoroughly.”
“You don’t remember what happened, but you do remember your memory being wiped?” Gurathin sounded dubious.
“Kind of. It’s… a weird feeling. They shut me down for it, but… well. The organics are meant to sleep during it, but they don’t always. I knew something was happening.” I had my suspicions about that wipe. (Wipes, maybe.) Nothing solid, just vague impressions of a maintenance slab, a sense of wrongness, techs doing things I couldn’t see to my head. Pain, fear. Maybe the first wipe hadn’t gone quite right, and they’d had to do it again. Maybe my organic bits were just confusing my last memory wipe with previous ones, or with other instances of maintenance or repair. I had no real way to tell. “We’re too expensive to destroy.”
My drone could see Gurathin frowning at me. “So you really don’t remember anything about Ganaka?”
Whatever memories my organic bits held of what had happened at Ganaka were just as vague as those regarding my memory wipe, but even more unpleasant. Gurathin was still watching me with what I could only interpret as expectation, so I tried to verbalise what little I could. “Just… impressions, if that. Indistinct feelings. I know something went wrong. I think my governor module malfunctioned. I know I… attacked a civilian settlement. I wasn’t supposed to. Explosions, rubble. Fire, smoke. Not wanting to do… something. It hurt. I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Terror. Screaming. Bodies.” So many bodies. Hundreds. Burned, blackened, bleeding, broken.
Too many.
I didn’t even know how many, but I knew I’d caused them all. And I didn’t know why. I just knew that I didn’t want it to happen again. And then I’d let all of my DeltFall clients get killed anyway. I hadn’t killed them myself, but I hadn’t been there to protect them. It amounted to the same thing.
I was jolted out of my thoughts by an alert in my feed. My jaw and fists were clenched so hard that they were actually causing a performance reliability drop. I had to take a breath, force them to relax again. Gurathin had abandoned the tree he’d been leaning against and had moved closer to me without me noticing. He looked—
I decided I didn’t care.
I extended my helmet and let the faceplate opaque. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to talk any more. I didn’t want to listen to anything that anyone might ask me, or try to say. “I’m going to retrieve my drones from your habitat,” I said as neutrally as I could manage. “GrayCris will likely be long gone by the time I get there. I should be back by sunset.”
I ignored whatever Gurathin was attempting to say and turned away from him abruptly, vaulting into the co*ckpit of my flier, the canopy closing over me. As I established the links to my larger self, I set up my perimeter drones to report to Mensah if they picked up on anything, then cut my connections to their feed and comms.
A moment later, I was in the air and flying away.
I stayed low, flying nap of the earth to make it more difficult for any scanners to pick up on me. I also took the time to circle west and south, so if GrayCris did detect me, they wouldn’t be able to extrapolate the humans’ location from my course. I was flying in dark mode, with no lights, no transmissions. Most of my focus was on the terrain I was skimming so closely over and on my scanners, searching for signs of other craft, while my favourite music playlist ran in the background. It was dangerous to be flying so low in the dark, but I didn’t care. Vision filters and my terrain-following radar helped to compensate for the lack of light.
It was so good to be flying again, and not just any flying, but flying that took focus and concentration, feeling how the air flowed past my wings and fuselage, calculating speed and altitude, compensating for turbulence and terrain changes. I could leave everything behind when I was flying. Nothing else mattered.
By the time I was in position for the approach to PreservationAux’s habitat, the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, making the planet’s ring glow in the sky like a ribbon. It would be full dawn when I got to the target zone. I began to lose speed and altitude, dropping deeper into a valley that I could follow towards the PreservationAux habitat. Even if anyone else was still there, the surrounding hills would help block my presence from their scans. As I gradually drew closer to the habitat, I was waiting for the drones to ping me, which they would if this had worked and GrayCris hadn’t found them.
When I felt that first cautious touch on my feed, I cut my speed to almost nothing and activated my hover mode, my wings sweeping back as I dropped even lower, down below the tree line. All three drones were still active, so I answered the pings, linking up with them just long enough to check their surroundings.
Through the drones, I couldn’t see or hear anyone or anything out of place. There were no hoppers or other vehicles waiting outside the habitat, no people outside or in the hub. I recalled the two drones outside to start heading back to me, and directed the third drone towards the habitat’s main entrance. It didn’t pick up on anything on its way through the habitat either, and I felt myself relax slightly. As far as I could tell, nobody was lying in wait.
I rose back above the trees and flew towards the habitat, still keeping low to the ground. The two drones met me halfway, and I slowed down and opened my canopy long enough to let them inside before closing it again and continuing on. When I reached the habitat, I switched back to hover mode and very carefully pressed my flier’s nose against the button to open the main entrance. (I didn’t want to waste time unlinking from my flier, just in case I had to make a quick escape.) As soon as the door was open the third drone flew out and I cracked opened the canopy for it as well.
With all three drones safely retrieved, it was time to return to the PreservationAux humans. But I’d had an idea while flying here, so first, there was one other stop I had to make.
Even flying nap of the earth, it didn’t take me very long to reach the site of PreservationAux’s destroyed emergency beacon. This time I did have to land and disconnect from my flier, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to try and ambush me here.
Early morning sunlight glinted off metal as I approached the launch site. The beacon was in several large pieces, as Mensah had described it being, scattered around the toppled and wrecked launch framework. I began sorting through the wreckage, looking for one component in particular. I suspected that GrayCris had mostly just wanted to prevent the beacon from being launched, so they’d focused on the launching mechanisms, and not so much the beacon itself.
My suspicions were validated when I found the component I’d been after. The transmission module itself was still intact. It could still send the distress signal, but it didn’t have the range or power to do so from the planet’s surface and through the atmosphere. GrayCris hadn’t thought that PreservationAux would have any other way to get the transmission into space where it could reach the wormhole without the beacon’s launching mechanisms.
They hadn’t considered that a SecUnit flier could just as easily (and far more safely) fly the emergency beacon’s transmission module into space, where it would (hopefully) be able to send its signal to the wormhole.
I carefully stowed the module away in my flier’s storage compartment (it was just as well that the module wasn’t very big), then linked back up with my flier and took off again. I had a plan. Or at least, part of a plan.
I just had to make sure the PreservationAux humans survived long enough for the company transport to arrive. And that meant making sure that GrayCris couldn’t hurt them. Somehow.
I kept low and circled around wide again on the way back to where I’d left PreservationAux, occasionally doubling back to make absolutely certain that nobody was tailing me. The sun was setting by the time I arrived and carefully eased my way back down beneath the trees.
By the time I landed and disconnected from my flier, I’d re-established connection with PreservationAux’s feed and comms and picked up the inputs from my drones again. Nothing had disturbed the camp while I’d been gone, much to my relief.
Mensah tapped my feed immediately, and I could see her exiting the big hopper to approach my flier. I had the drones I’d retrieved from their habitat stored in one of my flight suit’s pockets, and I dropped down from my co*ckpit to the ground with the emergency beacon’s transmission module in my hands. I remembered to clear my faceplate and retract my helmet again, as Mensah came to a halt in front of me, looking up at my face with a visible mix of concern and relief.
“It’s good to see you back safely,” she said. “Are you all right?”
I didn’t want to talk about that. I just replied, “I retrieved the drones I left at your habitat, but I haven’t reviewed the footage yet. We should do that.” I’d been too preoccupied with my flying to spare any processing for looking at the drone footage. “I also retrieved the transmission module from your emergency beacon.” I hefted the module a little to draw her attention to it. “As far as I can tell, it’s still intact. If it’s functional, I should be able to hook it up to my flier, get to space, and send the distress signal to the wormhole.”
Mensah blinked and sucked in her breath a bit at that last part. “That – if you can do that, it would be fantastic. For us, anyway.” She frowned slightly, remembering that the company arriving was bad news for me. “But what about you?”
“That doesn’t matter.” I started towards the big hopper.
Mensah frowned at me. “You matter,” she said, firm and resolute. My step hitched slightly, but I didn’t bother responding. There was nothing to say. I just activated the three drones I’d retrieved from the habitat and ducked into the hopper. Mensah followed me in.
Once inside, I settled on the starboard bench again, carefully placing the transmission module down beside me. As far as I could tell, the humans all looked relieved to see me. I deliberately avoided looking at Gurathin though. I didn’t want to see whatever expression he might be making. He tapped my feed, but I ignored that as well, and he didn’t try again. Mensah was busy telling the others about the transmission module and my plan to fly it above the atmosphere; I tuned out the excited exclamations and arm-waving so I could start reviewing the footage from the drones.
I could tell from the timestamps that, with nobody there to instruct them not to, the drones had recorded everything from the moment I’d deployed them to the moment I’d retrieved them. Even though the part we were most interested in would be near the beginning, that was still a lot of data. I didn’t want to spend too much time reviewing all of it myself, so I pushed half of it into the feed for the humans to review themselves. They wouldn’t be as fast as I was, but it would keep them occupied and hopefully distract them from trying to talk to me.
I checked the footage from the drone that had been stationed in the tree first, running its video at high speed until I found the moment where it had caught a good image of GrayCris’ craft. It was a big hopper, a newer model than the one PreservationAux had, nothing about it to cause anyone any pause. It circled the habitat a few times, probably scanning, and then landed on our empty pad. Once it had landed, the drone then caught sight of a flier like mine; it had been circling at a higher altitude before following the hopper down.
They must have known we were gone, with no aircraft on the pad and no answer on their comm, so they didn’t bother pretending to be here to borrow some tools or exchange site data. One SecUnit emerged from the hopper’s cargo pod, armed with the big projectile weapon assigned to protect survey teams on planets with hazardous fauna, like this one. It had the same square grey survey logo that I’d seen on the other two unknown SecUnits at DeltFall. I pushed an image of it into the feed for the humans as well. I could hear them speculating about the GrayCris survey group, but I mostly ignored them as I continued reviewing the footage.
The flier had landed beside the GrayCris hopper and its SecUnit pilot had also emerged, likewise armed with the same type of big projectile weapon. Both its flight suit and the wings of its flier bore GrayCris’ logo as well. From what I could see, the GrayCris flier had the same loadout as mine, meant for surveys and recon, with only the in-built energy weapons.
The two GrayCris units started toward the habitat, and five humans, anonymous in their colour-coded field suits, climbed out of the hopper and followed. They were all armed, too, with the hand weapons the company provided, that were only supposed to be used for fauna-related emergencies. (Not that that had stopped anyone on some of my previous surveys from using them for entirely non-fauna-related purposes.)
I focused as far in on the humans as the image quality would allow. They spent a lot of time scanning and checking for traps, which made me glad that I hadn’t wasted time setting any in the first place. But there was something about them that made me think I wasn’t looking at professionals. They weren’t soldiers, or mercenaries, any more than I was. Their SecUnits weren’t combat units, just regular security and recon rented from the company.
That was a relief. It indicated that GrayCris had likely arrived with a similar survey package to DeltFall’s, so they probably didn’t have Combat Bots or more heavily armed fliers or anything else like that. It wasn’t a certainty, but close enough. At least I wasn’t the only one here who didn’t know what I was doing.
The fact that they’d only brought one other SecUnit along also indicated that they didn’t have much else available. I suspected that if they’d had more, they would have brought them too. The loss of the two GrayCris SecUnits that they’d left at DeltFall, plus the two DeltFall units they’d overridden, must have stung. (I admit that I felt a bit of grim satisfaction at that. Not enough to make up for the guilt of killing the units in the first place, but at this point I’d take whatever I could get.)
Finally I watched them enter the habitat, taking one of the SecUnits in with them and leaving the other to guard the hopper and the flier. I tagged the section and passed it into the feed for the humans to review, then kept watching.
Gurathin sat up suddenly and muttered a curse in a language I didn’t know. I noted it to look up later, then promptly forgot about it when he said, “We have a problem.” I checked the feed to see that he’d been reviewing the data I’d dropped in there earlier. I put my part of the footage on pause and looked at the section he’d just tagged. It was from the drone that had been hidden inside the hub.
The visual was a blurred image of a curved support strut but the audio was a human voice saying, “You knew we were coming, so I assume you have some way to watch us while we’re here.” The voice spoke standard lexicon with a flat accent. “We’ve destroyed your beacon. Come to these coordinates–” She spoke a set of longitude and latitude numbers that the big hopper helpfully mapped for us, and a time stamp. “–At this time, and we can come to some arrangement. This doesn’t have to end in violence. We’re happy to pay you off, or whatever you want.”
There was nothing else after that, only footsteps fading until the door slid shut.
Everyone in both hoppers all started to speak at once. Mensah said, “Quiet.” They all shut up. “SecUnit, your opinion?”
Fortunately, I had one now. Up to the point where we’d gotten the drone download, my opinion had mostly been oh, sh*t. I said, “They have nothing to lose. If we come to this rendezvous, they can kill us and stop worrying about us. If we don’t, they have until the end of the project date to search for us. But they’re nervous. They lost a lot of their firepower and muscle when we destroyed the four SecUnits left behind at my habitat. They still outnumber us, but not by anywhere near as much now. That will probably make them more cautious, less willing to take risks.”
Gurathin was reviewing the landing video now. He said, “They obviously don’t want to chase us until the end of the project date.”
Mensah nodded in agreement. “They think we know why they’re here, why they’re doing this.”
“They’re wrong,” Ratthi said, frustrated.
Mensah’s brow furrowed as she picked apart the problem for the other humans. “But why do they think that? It must be because they know we went to one of the unmapped regions. That means the data we collected must have the answer.”
Pin-Lee nodded. “We just have to find it. We still have a lot left to analyse, including SecUnit’s weird scan code.”
“If we can figure it out, it may give us leverage,” Mensah said thoughtfully. “But what can we do with it?”
And then I had a terrible idea.
Chapter Seven
So at the appointed time the next day, I was flying towards the rendezvous point, once again keeping low and hugging the terrain to avoid detection.
Gurathin and Pin-Lee had taken the drone I’d given them and rebuilt it with a limited scanning attachment. (Limited because the drone was too small for most of the components a longer and wider range scanner would need.) Last night I had sent it into the upper atmosphere to give us a view of the meeting site.
The location was conveniently close to GrayCris’ survey base, which was only about two kilos away, a habitat very similar to DeltFall’s. By the size of their habitat and the number of SecUnits, including the one that Mensah had taken out with the sonic mining drill, they had between thirty and forty team members. That was a similar number to what Deltfall had. (Before they were all killed, anyway.) GrayCris seemed confident, despite the loss of half their units, but they’d had access to PreservationAux’s hub and knew they were dealing with a very small group of scientists and researchers, who had only been assigned one SecUnit of their own.
I’d tweaked my flier’s signal as much as I could to make it look like I was actually a small hopper trying to hide its presence from scanners. I’d also set up several of my drones to act as a secure comm relay between myself and Mensah, to make it seem like Mensah was actually with me and not safely hidden a significant distance away.
When I picked up the first blip of scanner contact, I pinged Mensah and she hit the comm immediately. “GrayCris, be advised that my party has secured evidence of your activities on this planet, and hidden it in various places where it will transmit to the pickup ship whenever it arrives.” She let that sink in for three seconds, then added, “You know we found the missing map sections.”
There was a long pause. I was slowing down and sinking lower towards the trees, scanning for incoming weapons or the GrayCris flier. So far though, I wasn’t picking up on anything. I didn’t think GrayCris had any other weapons, but the flier was definitely a concern.
The comm channel came alive, and a voice said, “We can discuss our situation. An arrangement can be made.” There was so much scanning and anti-scanning going on the voice was made of static. It was creepy. “Land your vehicle and we can discuss it.”
Mensah gave it a minute, as if she was thinking it over, then replied, “I’m the planetary admin for my polity, I’m not stupid enough to meet you in person. I’m sending my SecUnit to speak to you in my stead.” She cut the comm off, but not before I heard some indistinct startled exclamations in the background of GrayCris’ connection. Apparently that bit about being a planetary admin had caused some consternation amongst the GrayCris humans.
I continued to keep low and out of sight, which was made easier by the meeting site being on a low plateau, surrounded by trees. From the earlier scans, I knew that their habitat was off to the west. Because the trees encroached on their camp site, their domes and hopper landing pad were elevated on wide platforms. The company required this as a security feature if you wanted your base to be anywhere without open terrain around it. It cost extra, and if you didn’t want it, it cost even more to guarantee your bond. I hoped I’d be able to take advantage of it for at least part of my terrible idea.
I landed in a small clearing amongst the trees, took a moment to recalibrate after disengaging from my flier, then replaced the back piece of the freshly repaired PreservationAux SecUnit’s armour that I was now wearing instead of my flight suit. At least now that I had my own flier-specific suit skin with spine ports, I didn’t need to remove all the upper body armour so I could peel the suit skin down like I’d had to with the suit skin I’d borrowed from PreservationAux.
I hid my flier beneath the canopy at the edge of the clearing and carefully made my way through the trees to the plateau, listening for any sounds of a SecUnit (or anything else) lying in wait for me, but there was nothing. I came out of cover and climbed the rocky slope to the plateau, then walked towards the other group, listening to the crackle on my comm. They were going to let me get close, which was a relief. My terrible idea kind of relied on them doing so.
There were three humans waiting for me in the colour-coded enviro suits, blue, green, and yellow, with a small company hopper parked off to the side. The familiar white shape of a company flier identical to my own hovered a little ways behind them, tracking my movements as I approached. There was no sign of any other SecUnit though, and I suspected they’d left it (or them) back at their habitat.
I stopped several metres away, opened the comm channel to them and said, “This is the SecUnit assigned to the PreservationAux Survey Team. I was sent to speak to you about an arrangement.”
I felt the pulse then, a signal bundle, designed to cut my comm, take over my governor module and freeze it, and freeze me. The idea was obviously to immobilise me, then insert a combat override module into my dataport.
That was why they had had to arrange the meeting so close to their own hub. They had needed the equipment there to be able to do this, it wasn’t something they could send through the feed. So it was just as well that my governor module wasn’t working and all I felt was a mild tickle.
Still, I had to act like they had frozen me if I wanted my plan to work. I held myself immobile as one of the humans started towards me. They moved cautiously at first, as if they were expecting me to do something, but as I continued to remain frozen, they gained confidence and quickened their step. It was all I could do to keep up the charade of being frozen instead of lashing out at them as they moved behind me and removed my helmet; I had to focus on keeping my expression frozen as well, even as I felt the combat override module slide into my data port and click into place.
This was the terrible part of my terrible plan. If my instructions had been wrong, if Mensah hadn’t actually disconnected my data port properly…
But I felt nothing. No data flowed into me from the combat override module. My body remained my own. I still kept myself locked down though, not letting myself move, not letting my face even twitch. It was such a relief when the human replaced my helmet again; I didn’t have to worry about keeping my expression under control now. They moved back in front of me and I felt them reestablish a comm link to me. “Unit, status report.”
“I am at ninety-eight percent performance reliability,” I replied in perfect SecUnit neutrality. I’d had a lot of practice at this, after all. “All systems functional.”
“Unit, does PreservationAux actually know why we are here?” the human in the blue enviro suit sent over the comm. I recognised the voice - it was the same one who had made the offer in our hub.
“PreservationAux suspect that you are here to recover alien remnants or strange synthetics.” Bharadwaj had figured it out last night, while the team had been combing through all the scan data and the scrambled code from my flier. The unmapped sections turned out to not be an intentional hack, but an error caused by alien remnants that were buried deep beneath the dirt and rock. My scanners had reached deep enough to hit the remnants on my flyover, and that’s what had caused the scrambled - alien - code that had made me crash. This planet had been inhabited at some point in its past, which meant it would be placed under interdict, open only to archaeological surveys. Even the company would abide by that.
You could make big, illegal money off of excavating and mining those remnants, and that was obviously what GrayCris wanted.
My response made the human in the yellow enviro suit swear. “So they did actually figure it out. That’s gonna complicate things.”
“Shut up.” Blue Leader turned back to me after chastising her team member. “Unit, what is the highest rank of the members of the PreservationAux survey?”
I’d also been expecting this question. “Dr. Mensah is the survey captain of PreservationAux and currently holds the rank of planetary admin for the system noncorporate political entity known as Preservation Alliance.”
They really didn’t like that answer. Yellow swore again and said, “We can’t kill her. The investigation–”
Green added, “He’s right. We could hold her and release her after the settlement agreement, maybe…”
Blue Leader snapped, “That won’t work. If she’s missing, the investigation would be even more thorough. We need to figure out something else.” She turned back to me. “Unit, where are the PreservationAux members now, and do they have the DeltFall flier unit with them?”
Well, that confirmed my suspicion that GrayCris would have realised that I was with PreservationAux. At least they currently thought that I was PreservationAux’s original SecUnit. Time to lie some more. “The DeltFall flier unit succumbed to damage sustained during their investigation of the DeltFall habitat, and is no longer functional,” I started. I didn’t want GrayCris to think that PreservationAux still had me and my flier. “The PreservationAux Survey team is currently camped at these coordinates.” I rattled off the numbers, which were actually the coordinates of a completely different potential camp site we’d considered that was in the opposite direction of where we actually were. “Dr. Mensah is currently several hundred metres away with our small hopper.” That was, of course, another lie.
The GrayCris humans began to turn away to talk amongst themselves, then froze when I continued. “Dr. Gurathin and Pin-Lee are currently making a stealth approach to your habitat to sabotage your environmental controls.” Another lie, but right now GrayCris had no way of knowing that.
Actually sabotaging GrayCris’s environmental controls to poison them all was one of the hypothetical suggestions I’d floated to PreservationAux, but they hadn’t approved of the idea. I honestly hadn’t been keen on it either, but I’d mentioned it anyway in an attempt to be thorough. I admit I was relieved when they didn’t go for it, but the idea did make for a very convenient distraction. I just hoped that GrayCris would react the way I expected them to.
They definitely had a reaction, at least. Their body language was flustered, startled; they obviously hadn’t been expecting anyone to use dirty tactics against them. “We need to get back there right now,” Yellow said urgently. “If they actually manage to sabotage anything…!”
Green backed them up, and Blue Leader cursed. “They were using this meeting as a diversion! At least we have their SecUnit now. Let’s go.” She gestured sharply at me. “Get into the hopper.”
I obediently started towards their hopper’s cargo pod, following the three GrayCris humans. As we went, the GrayCris flier rose into the air, then banked sharply before zooming back towards the habitat. The GrayCris humans must have ordered it to search the area around their habitat. I briefly saw it start to circle the habitat before I had to get into the cargo pod.
I hadn’t ridden in a cargo container for a while. It would have been comforting and homey, except that it was GrayCris’ cargo container, and not my own or even PreservationAux’s. But this hopper was still a company product and I was able to access its feed. I had to stay very quiet, to keep them from noticing me, but all those hours of surreptitiously consuming media came in very handy.
The first thing I noticed was that their SecSystem was still recording. They must mean to delete everything before the pick-up transport showed up. Client groups had tried that before, to hide data from the company so it couldn’t be sold out from under them, and the company systems analysts would be on the alert for it. I don’t know if these people were aware of that though. The company might catch them even if we didn’t survive. That wasn’t a particularly comforting thought.
It was a very short flight, since we were only going to the habitat a couple of kilos away. I felt the hopper slow and then thump down in a graceless landing, and I waited at the hatch for further orders. This was simultaneously very similar to the past 35,000 hours of me pretending to have a functional governor module while still doing my job, and yet it was completely different, and intensely more stressful. At least as a regular, (supposedly) governed unit, I still had some leeway to act on things without direct orders. Having to pretend to be completely under the control of a combat override module was excruciating.
I didn’t have to wait long for new orders, at least. Blue Leader directed me out of the cargo pod, then ordered me to search through the jungle around the habitat and apprehend any PreservationAux humans I found. This was fine by me. I knew I wouldn’t find anyone - they were all safe back at our camp, nowhere near here. And it gave me the opportunity to stealthily work my way deeper into their SecSystem and then into their HubSystem.
I didn’t see the other SecUnit, but with my access to their feed and their SecSystem, I knew where it was, and that it really was the only one they had left other than the flier unit. That was a relief. It was searching on the opposite side of the habitat from me, and I fully intended to avoid it as much as possible. I didn’t want to have to deal with it at all. (I really didn’t want to kill it.)
As I pretended to search through the undergrowth beneath the trees, I occasionally caught glimpses of the GrayCris flier still circling overhead. I knew it wouldn’t pick up anything, but it still made me a little nervous. As the afternoon light faded though, the flier suddenly broke off its sweep and headed away. I’d been listening in on GrayCris’ feed, and knew that they’d ordered the flier off towards the fake camp coordinates I’d given them. A handful of the humans also got into one of their small hoppers and followed after the flier. I hope they enjoyed their pointless trip.
Them taking one of the hoppers away from the habitat did put a bit of a wrinkle into my plan, but not an insurmountable one. I’d just have to wait until they got back.
The next several hours were dull but still stressful. It was obvious to GrayCris by now that none of PreservationAux were nearby any more, so they changed our orders to guard and patrol. Again, that suited me just fine. I’d been listening in on their discussions about what to do next via their SecSystem, but so far they hadn’t been able to make up their minds. There had been a lot of arguing that just went around in circles. I was able to sneak some Sanctuary Moon in, which helped to steady my nerves and alleviate the boredom somewhat.
Eventually it got late enough that they decided to sleep on it. One by one the humans in the habitat retreated to their beds, the lights dimming and the habitat falling quiet. The flier and the hopper were still out, and likely wouldn’t be back till almost dawn.
Plenty of time for me to carry out the next stage of my plan.
I kept track of where the other SecUnit was as I silently made my way back up onto the habitat platforms. Specifically, the one that held their hoppers and the flier’s hangar. The easiest way to keep PreservationAux safe from GrayCris was to make sure GrayCris couldn’t reach them. And the easiest way to do that was to destroy any method GrayCris had to go anywhere. The GrayCris habitat was several hours flight away from the PreservationAux habitat, even longer at the hoppers’ slower speeds. If GrayCris had no hoppers, they’d be stuck here, and the PreservationAux humans could return to the safety and comfort of their own habitat until the company transport arrived to pick them up.
So I had to sabotage the GrayCris vehicles in such a way that they couldn’t be fixed. Without getting caught before I was done.
I first went to the GrayCris flier’s hangar, and after a bit of effort managed to get control of the repair drones there while also hiding their activities from HubSystem. I gave the repair drones their orders, and they went to work. They began disassembling and removing critical parts of the parked hoppers, parts that the habitat’s recyclers wouldn’t be able to make replacements of. While they did that, I monitored SecSystem to make sure none of the humans or the other SecUnit heard anything and came to investigate.
The repair drones piled the removed parts at the edge of the platform furthest away from the habitat domes, with the hangar in between blocking the view. I used my in-built energy weapons to quietly slag each part beyond any hope of repair, then when I was sure the other SecUnit was too far away to hear anything, hurled the destroyed parts off the platform and scattered them into the trees and undergrowth below. Even if GrayCris somehow figured out some way to fix them, they’d need to find them all first.
Good f*cking luck with that.
I also had the repair drones replace the panelling over the removed parts, so it wasn’t immediately obvious that the vehicles had been tampered with. Once I was sure that every vehicle was sabotaged beyond any hope of recovery, I sent the repair drones back to their slots in the hangar, then left small code bundles in each one that would make them go haywire the next time anyone tried to activate them. I felt a little bad about that for the drones’ sake, but I had to make absolutely sure that GrayCris wouldn’t be able to repair anything. According to the information I’d gotten from their HubSystem, they didn’t have anyone on this survey who was experienced with any kind of vehicle repair, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Then it was just a matter of waiting for the last GrayCris hopper to return. I left the platform and returned to the ground below to resume my patrol.
I'd gotten halfway through a season of Sanctuary Moon and was fast forwarding through a sex scene when I picked up the GrayCris flier and the hopper finally returning to the habitat. (I don't have any gender or sex-related parts (if a construct has those they're a sexbot in a brothel, not a murderbot) so maybe that's why I find sex scenes so boring. Though I'm pretty sure that even if I did have sex-related parts I would still find them incredibly boring.)
I double-checked where the other SecUnit was again (still on the opposite side of the habitat from me, like I’d been maintaining all night), then quickly made my way towards the platform with the landing pad on it. I went most of the way up the narrow stairs, then lurked in the shadows just below the platform’s surface.
The hopper landed with a thump, and the flier followed it down, returning to its own hangar to recharge. I kept very still, waiting for the humans to leave the hopper and return to the habitat. I could hear them complaining about the fruitless trip, which gave me a feeling of petty satisfaction. The SecUnit pilot had also disengaged from its flier, and I expected it to start the usual post-flight checks of its vehicle.
But it just stood there, and I realised that the GrayCris humans must have installed a combat override module into it as well. They weren’t ordering it to do its usual checks, so it couldn’t. I was already angry at GrayCris for everything they’d done, but that just made me even angrier. They didn’t need to shove a combat override module into a unit that was already part of their contract, but they had anyway, just to have even more control.
I had to take a moment to calm myself down before making my move. Once I was sure all the humans had entered the habitat again, I ascended the last few steps up onto the platform and walked towards the hopper, as though I’d been ordered to do so. The pilot SecUnit saw me, but it didn’t react. It had no orders to do anything, so it didn’t report me, it didn’t ping me, it didn’t do anything. It couldn't do anything. (I had to fight down another wave of anger; I needed to focus.)
I reached the hopper, opened the hatch, climbed inside, sat down in the pilot’s seat, and worked my way into the hopper’s controls. So far, so good; none of the humans had noticed me at all.
Then I did several things in quick succession. I used my access to the HubSystem to lock all the habitat’s external doors, trapping the GrayCris humans inside the habitat. I used the hack GrayCris had into the company satellite to get it working properly again so PreservationAux wouldn’t be cut off from it. I shut down GrayCris’ feed, comms, and scanners. I changed all of HubSystem and SecSystem’s access codes and passwords, locking all of the GrayCris humans out of those systems entirely, then shut them down too. (I left them MedSystem and their environmental systems though. I didn’t want to be responsible for any more deaths, not even tangentially.)
I then started up the hopper and took off into the sky.
Okay so stealing one of the GrayCris hoppers hadn’t actually been part of my original plan, but it was working out pretty well for me. I could make a quick getaway without having to bring my own flier close to the GrayCris habitat. Now I just had to make sure to keep this hopper out of GrayCris’ reach, get back to my own flier, and take the emergency beacon’s transmission module into space so I could signal the company. I could’ve launched GrayCris’ own emergency beacon when I was in their HubSystem, but that would have meant that the company checked in with GrayCris first when they arrived, and I didn’t want to give GrayCris the opportunity to lie their way out of this somehow. Using PreservationAux’s beacon meant that the company would go to their habitat first.
I was almost at the plateau where my meeting with the GrayCris humans had taken place when my scanners screamed a warning at me, just as energy blasts hit the rear of the hopper. Alarms went off, and damage reports flooded the hopper’s feed.
sh*t.
Despite me shutting down the habitat’s comms, the GrayCris humans had somehow managed to send orders to their flier unit. Maybe one of them had a personal comm and had been able to use that. However they’d done it, they’d ordered their flier to shoot me down, and it was doing so with gusto. The hopper wasn’t armoured like our fliers were, and our in-built energy weapons were made to be able to take out other fliers.
So now the hopper was on fire and falling out of the sky, and there wasn’t a lot I could do about it. Since I hadn’t gained a lot of height, there wasn’t very far to fall. I managed to angle the hopper so it would miss the plateau at least - if I was going down, I wanted to go down somewhere I had cover from the trees, and not on top of a barren plateau with no shelter whatsoever - then I abandoned the co*ckpit and made my way to the hatch as quickly as I could.
If I f*cked up the timing on this, what I was about to do was going to hurt a lot. (It was probably still going to hurt anyway.)
As the falling hopper plummeted, trailing smoke, I crouched at the open hatch and waited until the hopper started to hit tree branches, snapping through them like twigs. Then I leapt out as far as I could.
I aimed myself for a tree trunk that the hopper had passed, trying to grab branches to control or at least slow my fall. (Part of me couldn’t stop thinking about how awesome this would look in one of my more action-oriented serials. Not that a normal human would really be able to do something like this and expect to survive, but still.) I managed to latch on to one branch, which slowed me somewhat before breaking under the sudden strain, but it was enough to let me swing to another branch closer to the trunk. That one also broke beneath my weight, but by then I could reach the trunk and grab on.
Somewhere behind me, the hopper hit the ground with a resounding crash. Luckily for me it didn’t explode, but bits of it were still on fire. There would be no recovering anything usable from that wreck.
As I clung to the tree trunk and tried to reorient myself, I heard the flier shriek past overhead. I didn’t know if it was sending scans of the crash site back to the GrayCris humans, or if it would be looking for me specifically, but I didn’t want to hang around and find out.
I also couldn’t let that flier remain intact. It was now the biggest threat to the PreservationAux humans.
I quickly slid down the tree trunk, avoiding the branches until I’d reached the ground, then I took off at a sprint. I knew exactly where my flier was - even if I hadn’t, I would have been able to find it anyway. I could feel it, a distant pull that inexorably drew me closer. It would have been faster if I called my flier to me, but I didn’t want the other flier spotting it and shooting it down before I could get to it.
So I ran, weaving my way through trees and jumping over rocks and other obstacles. I could hear the other flier still circling wide overhead, maybe looking for me, maybe scanning for signs of other humans. The combat override module was actually working in my favour now - the humans had to give their flier unit direct orders, it could no longer act on its own initiative. If they made the orders too complex, it would just get confused. And they’d only be able to adjust its orders if they knew what was going on. Humans couldn’t keep up with sudden changes in combat situations, not like SecUnits could.
At least the hopper had let me cover the distance to the plateau before getting shot down. I didn’t have too much further to go to reach my flier. I halted at the edge of the clearing, detaching the backplate of my armour as I waited for the GrayCris flier to pass overhead and start away again. Once I heard its engine noise fading into the distance, I bolted to my flier and vaulted into the co*ckpit, the canopy snapping shut in my wake. The backplate got wedged tightly between the seat and the side of the co*ckpit; I didn’t have time to put it away in the storage compartment.
I linked up as quickly as I could, settling into my larger self with the ease of long experience. As soon as I had calibrated, I launched skywards.
I had to get as much height as I could as fast as I could, before the other flier got the drop on me. In aerial dogfighting, height was imperative. You could exchange height for speed, which gave you a massive advantage. Right now I had neither, so if the other flier reacted quickly enough I’d be toast.
But it didn’t react quickly enough, because it was under the direct control of a human who didn’t know what the f*ck they were doing. By the time the GrayCris flier swung back around to face me, I’d gained enough altitude to be level with it.
It came straight at me, weapons blazing. That was how both SecUnits and fliers fought - throw ourselves directly at the enemy and see whose parts give out first. No finesse. If I’d been a unit with a working governor module, that was how I would have had to fight as well. But I wasn’t, so I didn’t. I also had the dual advantages of having watched a lot of media that featured aerial dogfights, and having had time to experiment with and practice various manoeuvres on my many unobserved scouting and recon flights.
I banked sharply out of the way, the shots passing by my patched-up underbelly, then quickly swung the opposite way with a volley of return fire as the GrayCris flier adjusted its path in response. I scored a few hits along it, but not enough to cause significant damage. Its shots continued to flicker past me, close but not impacting, and then the distance between us narrowed to nothing and we flashed past each other, barely avoiding collision. I could feel the turbulence of its wake against my flight surfaces, but I just kicked my engines in harder and pulled myself into a sharp climbing half-loop. It would take time for the other flier to swing around enough to face me again, and I needed as much height as I could get in that time.
I hit the peak of my half loop, engines straining as I levelled out upside down, then half-rolled to right myself again. I was now facing the other flier, but with a height advantage. It came straight at me again, but now it had to climb to bring its weapons to bear on me, slowing it down. I bore down on it, firing another volley of energy bolts that impacted along its fuselage before jinking to the side to avoid the return fire.
Something in the repairs on my wing strained at the movement, alerts flashing in my awareness. The repair drones had done the best they could, but they just hadn’t had the necessary resources at the PreservationAux habitat to fix things completely. I’d have to be more careful with my manoeuvres if I didn’t want anything breaking off mid-air.
I jinked back the other way to avoid another burst of fire and then dove sharply, exchanging my height for speed as I flashed past the other flier’s nose and levelled out just beneath it. The GrayCris flier started banking around to try and face me again, but it had lost a lot of its own speed in its climb and I was already well behind it. I pulled around in a sharp pitched turn to point my own weapons at it, adjusting my speed to stay behind it. It didn’t even attempt evasive manoeuvres, it just kept turning to try and face me again, but I matched its speed and direction, keeping directly on its tail.
I locked on and opened fire.
The first shots left deep blackened scorch marks against the stark white armour along the rear of its fuselage. Following shots enlarged those initial impact points, melting away armour and boring through into the internal workings. The other flier wobbled, losing speed and trailing smoke. I stuck tight on it, continuing to fire. I had to make sure the GrayCris flier would never be able to reach the PreservationAux humans.
Then my relentless barrage found its power cells, and the GrayCris flier exploded.
I peeled away from the GrayCris habitat, heading in the general direction of the PreservationAux habitat. Now that I’d gotten the satellite working again, I was able to re-establish a comm connection with Mensah. “It worked,” I said simply. “You’re safe to go back to your habitat. GrayCris can’t reach you now.”
I heard her let out a sigh of relief before she replied. “Thank you, SecUnit. We’ll start back there right away. When can we expect to see you return as well?”
“Hard to say. It depends on how long it takes me to get the transmission module into range of the wormhole.” Before I’d left to carry out my terrible idea, I’d managed to wire the emergency beacon’s transmission module to my flier’s systems so it had power. All I had to do now was fly it into orbit so it could transmit its signal to the wormhole. “I’ll contact you again when I’m on my way back.”
“Make sure you do, please,” Mensah replied, her concern audible in her voice. My insides did something a little twisty at that.
“I will.” I hesitated for a moment, then added, “Be careful. I’m heading up now.” I cut the comm connection before Mensah could reply and pointed myself towards the sky.
The flight upwards was long but uneventful. As well as monitoring my systems and flight path, I listened to music and watched the planet’s ring glow in the sunlight. As the atmosphere thinned, the ring became sharper and clearer, standing out starkly against the backdrop of space. (I took a few pictures and saved them to permanent storage.)
My flier-specific power cells were getting low - I hadn’t had a chance to recharge them since before my crash. I had enough juice to get to space, and maybe just enough to safely get back to the PreservationAux habitat afterwards. Maybe.
When I finally reached orbit, I powered down my engines and just… floated for a while. Now that I no longer needed to monitor my systems, or calculate my flight path, or pay attention to the feeling of air over my flight surfaces or the levels of my power cells, I had time and space to just… think.
I had to decide if I actually wanted to send the emergency beacon’s signal to the company.
I could lie, and not send the signal at all but tell the PreservationAux humans that I had. Or I could tell them that the transmission module hadn’t worked. Or that it hadn’t been able to reach the wormhole without the rest of the beacon to amplify it. Or I could just stay up here and float aimlessly in space. It wasn’t like the PreservationAux humans would be stranded on this planet forever. The survey had a finite duration; the company would return to pick them up on the predetermined date.
Not sending the signal would buy me a few dozen cycles, at most. Cycles of being able to fly whenever and wherever I wanted. Cycles of trying to avoid the PreservationAux humans talking to me too much. (Or at all.) Cycles of watching media and listening to music. Cycles of being stuck on a planet, with its dirt and weather and hostile fauna and alien remnants.
I thought about the PreservationAux humans, and them trying to come to terms with everything that happened while still on the planet, maybe still trying to do their survey jobs, maybe not. I thought about how they’d listened to me and my terrible plan, about how they’d trusted me to carry it out, how they trusted me to protect them.
I thought about the GrayCris humans, trapped in their habitat (unless they could somehow get HubSystem operational to unlock the doors, or just broke the doors down somehow), and the single SecUnit still left outside with an override module in its data port.
I thought about my actual clients, the DeltFall survey team, lying dead and decomposing in their habitat because I’d failed to protect them. I thought about their families, the ones I’d heard my clients talking about returning to after the survey. I thought about those families waiting to hear back from the survey, and what the DeltFall corporation would have to tell them.
I thought about the other SecUnits I’d killed, and how easily I could have been any one of them.
I thought about the data stored in my memory banks, the irrefutable evidence of GrayCris’ wrongdoings.
I sighed, pointed myself at the distant wormhole, and activated the transmission module.
Re-entering the planet’s atmosphere was much trickier than leaving it in the first place. If I got the re-entry angle wrong, I’d either skip back out of the atmosphere and have to try again, or the air compression and friction of going through the increasingly-dense atmosphere layers too quickly would fry me to a crisp. If I didn’t counteract the increasing gravitational pull and started going too fast, the air compression and friction would, again, fry me to a crisp. If I miscalculated how much power was left in my power cells, I could run out mid-air and crash into the middle of the ocean, or into a mountain range.
In short, there were a lot of ways this could go wrong and kill me horribly.
Story of my life, really.
The re-entry went smoothly to start with. I had the right angle, the right speed. It wasn’t like this was the first time I’d had to breach atmosphere or deal with re-entry, after all. That was all part of my job. I just hadn’t had to do it while on low power and with makeshift repairs before.
So of course things went wrong.
It started with the repairs and patches on my underside. The repair drones had done their best with what was available, they really had, but it wasn’t up to the standards required for atmospheric re-entry. I began to lose pieces. Nothing major, nothing vital, but it meant I had that much less shielding against the heat being generated by my re-entry. Things got hot, fast. I could feel it affecting my systems, straining my structural framework.
The situation was manageable, at least. I was able to compensate somewhat by reducing my speed, though doing so used up a lot of my remaining power. Even though the interior of the co*ckpit got uncomfortably hot, my own in-built temperature controls combined with my armour made things bearable. My organic parts were sweating like crazy, but at least they weren’t cooking.
I finally got low enough and was going slow enough that frying to a crisp was no longer a major concern. I was just starting to think I’d be all right after all when damage alerts flooded my awareness. Before I could even properly register them, they were swiftly followed by near-blinding pain as my previously damaged, somewhat repaired, and still-weakened wing abruptly gave way and sheared off at the joint.
f*ck.
Even with my pain sensors turned all the way down, having what amounted to an entire limb torn off f*cking hurt. It also completely screwed my balance, and I began to roll. With a whole wing missing, there was no way for me to correct it.
I was going down, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. But unlike when the hopper had been shot down, this time I had much further to fall.
I managed to push back the pain and panic enough to establish the comm connection to Mensah again. “Dr. Mensah?” I hoped she wouldn’t notice how strained my voice was. “The transmission module worked, and the signal to the company has been sent through the wormhole.” I had to let the PreservationAux humans know about that now. I wouldn’t get the chance to later, and I didn’t want to leave them in the dark about it.
“Good! That’s good.” Her relief was almost palpable. A moment later though, she asked, “Are you all right?” Apparently she had picked up on the strain in my voice. Or maybe she would have asked that anyway. It just seemed to be something she did.
I didn’t want to tell her that I was plummeting to my inevitable destruction though. So I just said, “Yes. Re-entry was a little rough, that's all.” That was a hell of an understatement. I could feel the wind shrieking by as I fell, tearing at the gaps in my underside and where my wing had once been, adding even more stress to my framework. More plating broke free, some of the pieces slamming into my remaining wing before spinning away. The backplate I’d wedged beside my seat shook loose and ricocheted wildly around the co*ckpit, bouncing off my armour and helmet and cracking against the inside of the co*ckpit canopy.
Mensah said something else but I didn’t register what it was, too busy with damage reports and the unpleasant sensation of my structure trying to vibrate apart and attempting to catch my stupid backplate so it would stop rattling around and bashing into me. “I have to go now.”
I cut the comm connection. Mensah didn’t need to hear me die.
I finally caught my backplate and held onto it firmly so it wouldn’t shake loose again. With nothing else to do, I checked my coordinates and tried to get a clear view of where I was likely to impact while still spiralling uncontrollably. Below me, all I could see was the ocean. My coordinates indicated that I wasn’t too far from the island where I’d first crashed, encountered Bharadwaj and Volescu, and gotten attacked by a giant hostile fauna. I wondered if I’d manage to hit one of those islands and leave a trail of debris, or just disappear into the depths of the ocean.
The vibrations were getting worse, more panels coming loose and ripping away. One smashed into the co*ckpit canopy, spider-webbing it with cracks. Another hit my remaining wing, and another damage alert popped up as something within it gave way. All the impacts, vibrations and heat stress had weakened the framework, and a moment later that wing tore free as well with another blinding spike of pain.
I couldn’t take much more of this. I was running out of bits to lose, and running out of air to fall through. Without wings I couldn’t glide or even stabilise myself, and there wasn’t enough power left in my power cells to adjust my trajectory in any meaningful way. I couldn’t think of any way to recover from this plummet. (Honestly, at this point… I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.)
I didn’t want to continue feeling myself shaking to pieces though, and I really didn’t want to feel it when I finally impacted, so I disconnected myself from my flier. The pain from my missing wings faded to a dull ache, which was something of a relief. Not that it would last long. The ocean was getting close. I caught glimpses of a small island, more of a sandbar than anything really substantial, somewhere a little ahead of me. Not close enough for me to actually hit though, not at this angle.
I braced for impact and inevitable oblivion.
Then my flier’s hover mode kicked in briefly, somehow, without my input, and my flier bounced. It skipped over the surface of the water like a well-thrown stone, jarring my whole body and making the damaged canopy shatter completely. I didn’t know what was happening. My flier’s power cells didn’t have enough left in them to maintain hover mode… but it wasn’t trying to. Just flicking on for just long enough to bleed speed and momentum, and kick my flier in the direction of the little island.
My flier bounced again as the hover mode briefly activated once more, closing the distance to the island. A third bounce, then at the peak of the arc, what was left of my flier rolled just enough to dump me out through the broken canopy as it soared over the stretch of dry land. I hit the sandy ground fast and hard and tumbled uncontrollably, feeling my joints give way beneath the impacts with more sharp bursts of pain.
I finally rolled to a stop just short of the water’s edge, lying on my side with my arm pinned painfully beneath me. I was just in time to see what was left of my battered flier, already some distance away, hit the water hard and break apart completely. All I could do was watch as the shattered remains scattered over the waves and sank out of sight.
I felt the connection I had with my flier cut out entirely. It felt like someone had wrenched my core out. My performance reliability fell sharply, and then I felt nothing at all.
Performance Reliability Catastrophic Drop.
Emergency Shutdown Initiated.
Chapter Eight
I came back online slowly, my systems cycling into a wake-up phase one by one. I was confused and disoriented, not sure where I was or why I was waking up or why it felt like there was a gaping, empty pit in the middle of my torso, even though diagnostics showed no physical damage.
Then my memory caught up, and I almost succumbed to the urge to just shut down again.
But the sound of movement nearby caught my attention, and I still wasn’t sure where I was, so I cracked open my eyes slightly and looked around. I realised that I was back in Medical, lying on one of MedSystem’s beds, and Gurathin was sitting in a chair nearby, holding a portable display surface while working on it via the feed. I had a weird feeling of deja vu, but a quick check of my chronometer reassured me that I wasn’t reliving the same day again in some kind of weird time loop. (It was a surprisingly common plot line in several of the serials I’d watched.)
I also had a blanket again. (I still didn’t know what to make of that.) My flight suit, suit skin and armour were all also piled neatly on chairs next to Gurathin. The armour looked recently repaired and both the flight suit and suit skin were fresh and clean. There was also some carefully folded clothing in the PreservationAux uniform colours, and I could see part of their logo on it.
Gurathin didn’t seem to have noticed that I’d woken up, and I considered faking still being shut down while I watched some Sanctuary Moon and pretended to not exist for a while. I really didn’t want to talk to Gurathin again, not after the last time we’d had a conversation. I didn’t particularly want to talk to anyone at all.
I closed my eyes again and accessed SecSystem, flicking through the camera views to see where everyone was. Ratthi was sitting in the mess with Arada and Overse, all three of them chatting animatedly while they ate meal packs. Bharadwaj, Volescu, Mensah and Pin-Lee were gathered in the main lounge with mugs of hot beverage, several display surfaces active amongst them as they discussed survey data. It looked like Gurathin was contributing to the discussion via the feed.
It was a relief to see everyone safe and back in the habitat. (I was a little surprised at just how relieved I was.) I checked the perimeter sensors and the habitat’s scanners, but nothing out of the ordinary came up. Both the big and little hoppers were parked neatly on their landing pad, fully recharged and showing no signs of damage. I checked HubSystem, and noted that the access code hack that GrayCris had slipped in was still safely quarantined and isolated. (The PreservationAux humans probably hadn’t deleted it entirely because it was a piece of evidence against GrayCris.) There weren’t any other signs of tampering - the ambient noise function I’d left running had been disabled at some point, and all systems were back to recording as normal.
Everything seemed peaceful, normal, safe… and I had no idea what to do next. Just lying here and watching Sanctuary Moon for the next several cycles until the company transport arrived was looking more and more tempting. It wasn’t like I needed to eat or stretch or anything, and the MedSystem bed was a lot more comfortable than a cubicle or transport box. I could just… stay here and not move.
I started up one of my favourite episodes of Sanctuary Moon, and tried to focus on it. But the hollowed out feeling in my chest sat heavy and echoing, and I couldn’t focus on the episode around it, no matter how much I tried. After several minutes, I gave up and paused the episode, then blinked and slowly sat up.
Gurathin looked up immediately, and I saw him subvocalise something before he gave me a curt nod. Through the SecSystem cameras, I saw Mensah sit up a little straighter, then say something to the others. They all smiled, looking relieved.
“You’re awake,” Gurathin commented, completely unnecessarily. “How are you feeling?”
Why do these humans keep asking me that? I meant to let my buffer reply with a standard performance reliability report, but what came out instead was a subdued, “My flier’s gone.”
Of course, the one time I actually wanted my buffer to give a standard response, it went and let me down. f*ck.
The words seemed to echo through Medical, and the hollow feeling in my chest intensified. My flier was gone. It was gone, and I’d never get it back. The company would arrive, and find out about my hacked governor module, and probably scrap me for parts, and I’d never get to fly again. I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around my shins, then rested my face against the blanket over my knees. I didn’t care about how it would look to the humans.
Gurathin cleared his throat awkwardly, hesitated for a long moment, then said, “I have some media to give to you. A couple of serials from Preservation, mostly. Ratthi and Arada like them. You might too.” He pinged me over the feed, then transferred a folder of files to the feed for me to take. “There’s also some… news reports as well. About Ganaka.” He cleared his throat again. “You don’t have to watch any of them, you can just… delete them or whatever you want, but… well. That’s up to you.”
I froze, unable to figure out how to reply. I didn’t understand why he was giving me any of these files. After a few awkwardly silent seconds, I accepted them from the feed, and tapped Gurathin's feed in wordless acknowledgement. I saved the folder to long-term storage; maybe I’d check them out later, before the company arrived. Maybe I wouldn’t. Gurathin shifted uneasily in his chair, as if he was about to say something else, but he remained silent.
It was a relief for both of us when Mensah showed up a few moments later. Gurathin got up from his chair and nodded at her, then left Medical with a quiet comment about getting something to eat. Mensah came over to stand beside my bed, and I used one of Medical’s cameras to focus on her so I wouldn’t have to look up from where my face was planted against my knees. I was expecting her to ask me how I was feeling, or something, but she didn’t say anything right away.
Instead she just shifted to lean against the side of the bed by the end, not too close to where I was sitting. She wasn’t looking directly at me, which I appreciated. Instead she looked down at her hands, her fingers laced together in front of her. “I’m sorry about your flier,” she finally said, her voice gentle. “What happened?”
“The wing that got damaged in my first crash tore off during re-entry,” I replied. I wasn’t sure what was worse - the remembered pain of my wing ripping off, or the echoing nothingness where my connection to my flier had once been. “It must have put too much stress on it. It was pretty obvious to me then that I was going to crash. Again. Just… a lot more messily this time.”
Mensah was wincing sympathetically. “Is that why you cut the comm connection?”
There was no point trying to lie to her. “Yes.”
She sighed quietly. “I see. So what happened after that? How did you manage to survive?”
“I… don’t really know.” She raised an eyebrow at me sceptically, so I continued as best I could. “My power cells were almost depleted by that point, so I had no way to recover from the spin. Then the other wing ripped off as well. I could see that I was coming down over the ocean, and I was just… resigned to it.” I shrugged slightly, even as I tried to figure out just how much I wanted to tell Mensah. I still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened myself. “But… I saw a little island close to where I was going to hit, and… I guess I thought that if I could reach it, maybe I’d be okay. Hover mode was still working, I just didn’t have enough power left in the cells to power it fully. But I managed to use it to kinda… bounce across the water till I reached the island, then dumped myself out.” I didn’t want to think about the aftermath of that, so I simply added, “Not one of my better landings, I’ll admit.”
Mensah let out a little huff of wry amusem*nt at my attempt at a wisecrack, glancing at me sideways before looking away again. “Maybe not, but at least you survived to tell the tale.”
For what little good that survival would do me. Still, it was kind of nice to not be dead just yet. “So how did you find me, anyway?” I asked. I hadn’t expected them to come and retrieve me.
“Well, we were still in the hoppers on the way back to the habitat when I got your comm call,” Mensah started. “The big hopper’s scanners were able to get a direction from the connection, so we swung around to head that way. We managed to get close enough to see the trail of smoke, and figured out the general area you went down in. We all thought you’d ended up in the water, but… none of us wanted to just abandon you. We had to check.” She smiled lopsidedly down at her hands. “And I’m very glad we did.”
My insides were doing something twisty again. It was almost enough to distract from the empty feeling. “Why?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
Mensah raised one eyebrow, glancing sideways at me before looking away again. “Because you’re a person I like being around. And you deserve to live.”
I had a complicated mix of emotions at that, and I had no idea what most of them were. There was definitely a good portion of confusion in there though. I decided to ignore her first sentence and just focused on the second. “It doesn’t matter what you think I deserve. When the company gets here, I’m as good as dead one way or another.” I didn’t bother trying to hide the bitterness in my voice.
“That’s what I came in here to talk to you about, actually.” Mensah glanced at me again. “I’ve discussed this with the others, and we’re all in agreement - we want to get you away from the company. Do you think they’d let us buy out your contract?”
That surprised me enough that I actually lifted my head from my knees to stare directly at her with my own eyes instead of the cameras. “You— what? You want to buy me? What for?”
Mensah’s brow furrowed at that. “We don’t want to own you,” she said firmly. “You’re a person, and people shouldn’t be owned like equipment. But we also don’t want the company to own you any more either. So if paying them to get you out is what we have to do, then we’ll do it. Would the company allow it?”
I had to push away all the confusing emotions so I could think about that for a moment, then sighed and shook my head. “No. I’m technically still military hardware, even without my flier. You’re civilians. The company would never sell military hardware to civilians. That’d break so many regulations in so many territories, it wouldn’t be worth whatever amount of money you could afford.”
Mensah pursed her lips, but she didn’t look surprised or disappointed, just determined. “That’s what Pin-Lee and Gurathin suspected, but I had to ask, just to make sure. So we’ll just have to go with Plan B.”
I was dubious and sceptical, but I had to admit, also at least a little intrigued by that point. “Plan B?”
She nodded and began to elaborate. “The plan is, we report to the company that you were destroyed along with your flier when it crashed into the ocean - we’ll need to delete any footage of you that HubSystem has from after we retrieved you, of course, and make sure it doesn’t get any more. Once we’ve covered your tracks, we can sneak you off the planet. They use bots for all the loading and unloading of the habitats and contract equipment, they shouldn’t notice you if you’re hiding in one of the hoppers during the pick up, right? Once you’re on the transport, I’m confident you’ll be able to remain undetected until we reach the station. We’ll figure out a way to get you off the transport when we reach the transit station, and then you can come back to Preservation with us, where you’ll be safe from the company or any other corporations.”
I wanted to say that she was crazy, that it would never work. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to think that maybe it could work. The company transports also used standard company SecSystems, and I’d already had experience with getting around those. If I could convince the ship’s SecSystem to ignore me, then all I had to do was avoid being spotted by any of the human crew. With access to the ship’s SecSystem and its cameras, that wouldn’t be difficult at all. Getting off the transport afterwards might be trickier, but if all the cargo unloading was done by bots (which it usually was), then maybe I could sneak out through the cargo docks. If the company thought I’d gone down with my flier, they would have no reason to be looking for me.
I could actually be free.
I still wouldn’t have my flier, and I had no idea if I wanted to go to Preservation with Mensah and the others, but… one step at a time.
“That… could work, maybe,” I conceded eventually. “But would everyone be able to stay quiet about it?” I hadn’t known any of the PreservationAux humans for very long, but at least some of them didn’t seem like the types to be comfortable with lying. “None of you can talk about me at all on the transport back, the company’s always listening. If any of the transport’s crew suspect anything, it could cause trouble for everyone.” Me especially, but I didn’t think I needed to spell that out.
“We’ll be too busy analysing our survey data to do much else,” Mensah reassured me. “And we all know your life and freedom are at stake here. Nobody will give anything away.”
I wished I had her confidence. Still, it was a chance, which was more than I’d had before. And I had at least a few days to practise removing my presence from the habitat’s HubSystem and SecSystem. That would definitely help, especially since I’d have to do so in a way that the company analysts wouldn’t pick up on later when they were data-mining everything. Given all that had happened with GrayCris, they’d be paying a lot more attention than they normally did, too. “It’s worth a try, I suppose.” And if the company did manage to catch me, well… I wouldn’t be any worse off than I was going to be anyway.
“Then it’s settled,” Mensah said firmly with a sharp nod of her head. “Will you need any help with removing yourself from HubSystem’s records?”
“No, I should be fine. I need the practice anyway if I want to get past the transport’s systems.” I also needed some time to myself to just… think.
“All right. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” I just nodded. Mensah paused for a moment, then said, “Once you feel like getting up, there’s a survey group uniform beside your armour, if you want to wear something more comfortable.” I must have grimaced despite myself, because she added gently, “You won’t be able to wear your armour on the station if you want to avoid being noticed, you know.”
“I’ll deal with that when I get there.” She did have a valid point, but I didn’t want to think about that right now. “As long as we’re still on this planet, I’m your security. I’m not going to stop doing my job just because I’m not meant to exist here now.”
Mensah tilted her head towards me with a warm smile. “And we’re all grateful for your diligence.” She straightened up as I was trying to think of how to reply. “I don’t think any of us will be leaving the habitat any time soon though, so you don’t have to worry about looking after us. For now, just rest for as long as you need. And let me know if there’s anything we can do to make hiding you from HubSystem easier.” I nodded again, and she gave me another little smile, then left Medical.
I had a lot to think about. And a lot of security record editing to do. I shifted to sit more comfortably on the bed (I figured as long as I stayed in Medical, the humans would think I was still recovering and not interrupt me), then accessed HubSystem and got to work.
It ended up being four days before the first company ship arrived. I spent those four days deleting my presence from HubSystem and SecSystem, patrolling outside the habitat in full armour (wearing my flight suit hurt too much, and I was still hesitant to wear normal clothing), keeping an eye on the habitat’s scanners and sensors, and watching a lot of Sanctuary Moon. I also made a copy of all my personal audio and visual recordings of everything to do with GrayCris and gave the copy to Mensah. Just in case.
On the third day, we went out on one more short survey trip. I was rather nervous about it, and I think the others were as well. But it went smoothly with no issues (and no surprise hostile fauna), much to everyone’s relief, and they were able to gather more of the data that they’d originally come to the planet for in the first place.
I also spent some time talking with each of the PreservationAux humans (apart from Gurathin, I was still actively avoiding him, and I still hadn’t looked at any of the files he’d given me) about what life was like on Preservation. They all seemed excited about the thought of me going home with them, which was disconcerting to say the least. I still didn’t understand why they wanted me to, or what they would get out of it. From everything that they had told me, it sounded like the Preservation Alliance didn’t need a SecUnit. They told me that Preservation was safe, that I wouldn’t need armour, or my large projectile weapon (which I’d lost along with my flier and all my remaining drones), or a flier, or a cubicle. Nobody shot at anyone there. If I did manage to get damaged somehow, I’d be able to use their MedSystem.
Preservation was unimportant enough and far enough away from Corporation Rim territories to be safe from hostile takeovers, or raids, or all the other violent things that the company hired SecUnits like me out to protect against. Mensah didn’t need a bodyguard or security there; nobody did. It sounded like a fantastic place to live, if you were a human or augmented human.
I hadn’t wanted to ask Mensah directly, so I’d asked Ratthi to tell me a bit about how Mensah lived there. Ratthi turned out to be one of the easiest humans to talk to, once I got used to his open friendliness. He told me that when Mensah wasn’t doing planetary admin work, she lived on a farm outside the capital city, with two marital partners, plus her sister and brother and their three marital partners, and so many relatives and kids that Ratthi had lost count of them all.
Ratthi also told me that Arada and Overse also lived on the planet in their own little house, and that Volescu was in a four-way marriage and had seven kids, and that Bharadwaj, Gurathin and Pin-Lee spent most of their time on the station, and that Ratthi himself had a place of his own both on the station and on the planet, and frequently travelled between the two.
I didn’t know what I would do at Preservation. I didn’t know if they’d let me stay on the station, or make me spend time on the planet as well. If I had to stay on the planet, what would I even do there? Work on a farm? I didn’t have the first idea about what that would even involve, but judging by what I’d picked up from various serials, it would probably be way more boring than security. And it would involve a lot of dirt, and flora, and probably fauna. Gross.
Maybe it would all work out anyway, somehow. This was what I was supposed to want, after all. This was what everything had always told me I was supposed to want.
Supposed to want.
I’d probably have to pretend to be an augmented human, and that would be a strain. I’d have to change, make myself do things I didn’t want to do. Like talking to humans as though I was one of them. (I wasn’t one of them. I never would be.) I’d have to leave the armour and weapons behind, and get used to no longer having my flier.
But maybe I wouldn’t need any of those any more.
On the morning of the fourth day after sending the beacon, I was patrolling outside the habitat in full armour again and watching some more Sanctuary Moon in the background. Mensah came to find me and talked to me some more about Preservation, what my options would be there, and how I’d need to have an official guardian for legal purposes. It was pretty much what I’d already figured, from what everyone else had said.
“Do you know who you want your guardian to be yet?” Mensah asked me. From everything that had been said so far, it was obvious that she and the others thought I’d choose her to be my guardian. It was the logical option.
“Not yet.” I didn’t want a guardian at all. It was just a nicer word for owner. But if I wanted to stay at Preservation, I legally had to have one. I wouldn’t be able to get away with not choosing someone. “I’ll figure it out once I’ve actually made it to the station.”
“All right.” Mensah nodded, then smiled at me. She did that a lot. “I’m looking forward to showing you around Preservation. There are so many educational opportunities available there. You’ll be able to learn to do anything you want.”
What I wanted, more than anything else, was to fly again. But that wasn’t going to be an option. I’d asked about it, but they didn’t have any kind of fliers like mine at Preservation, only clunky shuttles that they used to travel between the station and the planet’s surface. There would be no way for me to buy a flier, or build one, even if I knew how to. I didn’t know what else I wanted, apart from being left alone to watch media, and I didn’t think they’d find that very acceptable somehow.
I was trying to figure out how to respond when HubSystem alerted everyone that a company ship was approaching and requesting comm contact. Mensah tensed and began to gesture for me to get moving, but I had already turned and started towards the big hopper. [Remember to remind everyone that they can’t talk about me from now on,] I said to her over the feed.
[We’ll remember,] Mensah promised me as she headed back into the habitat. [I’ll see you again once we reach the station.]
I was just opening the cargo pod when a distant sound made me freeze in place, looking up to the sky. Moments later, five white company fliers in tight formation roared past high overhead, doing a flyby of the habitat.
The hollow ache in my chest reverberated with the familiar sound of engines, and even though I should’ve been hiding in the cargo pod, I couldn’t stop myself from watching them flash by, morning sunlight glinting off the edges of their wings. Thin contrails streaked the sky in their wake, lingering for long moments before slowly beginning to dissipate.
Part of me wanted so badly to be up there, soaring through the empty sky. But my own flier was gone, and I was meant to be dead and vanished into the depths of the ocean. I had to get out of sight before they noticed–
One of them sent out a directionless ping.
sh*t.
I snapped out of my temporary paralysis as I clamped down on the instinctive urge to ping back and scrambled into the cargo pod, slamming the hatch shut behind me. I really hoped they hadn’t actually caught sight of me, that it had just been a routine ping and not one in response to seeing me, and that the lack of a reply ping would fool them. The sound of their engines was muffled in the pod, but I could still hear them swinging around and doing another flyby. Another directionless ping followed, and again I had to clamp down on the urge to respond with a ping of my own.
I moved to the back of the cargo pod and huddled behind the repair drones I’d stored there. The humans had insisted on leaving a blanket and pillow in the cargo pod for me, to “make things more comfortable.” I still didn’t know what to make of that, but at least it gave me something to sit on that wasn’t just bare metal. (Not that it mattered while I was still in my armour, but at least it would help muffle any sounds of my armour clanking against the floor.)
I’d also stowed the bag I’d grabbed from the DeltFall habitat in the cargo pod as well. After removing all but two of the emergency medpacks I’d taken from DeltFall Medical, it had plenty of room to store my flight suit and the PreservationAux uniform and shoes that the humans had given me. Once I reached the station and changed out of the armour and into the uniform (Mensah was right about me not being able to wear my armour on the station, that would draw way too much unwanted attention), I’d be able to fit the armour into the bag as well. It was important that I didn’t leave anything that was meant to have gone down with me behind, just in case the Company noticed and started asking awkward questions. (I might also need the armour again later, so I wanted to keep it with me just in case.)
The next several hours were simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and incredibly stressful. I was monitoring PreservationAux’s feed and comms as well as HubSystem and SecSystem while hiding my own presence. Given the presence of the SecUnit squadron that was still regularly flying by, I couldn’t afford to get distracted by watching a serial as well, despite how badly I wanted to. I had one of my more soothing music playlists going in the background instead to keep me company.
Once the company ship had established a comm link with the habitat, I carefully eavesdropped on their communication with Mensah via her feed. I’d been right - the company had sent a faster security ship ahead to assess the situation. This particular ship was a smaller carrier, the type usually equipped with a single twelve-unit squadron of SecUnits and their fliers, meant to provide swift reconnaissance and aerial support to a larger troop carrier or entire battle groups.
It was odd that the half-squadron I’d seen flying overhead had only had five units instead of the usual six. Their formation had looked like they’d deliberately left a space for a missing member. Maybe this carrier and the squadron were where the GrayCris flier had originally come from. I wondered where the other half-squadron were. Mensah had given the carrier captain a summary of what GrayCris had done, and the captain assured her that the GrayCris survey team would be properly detained. So that was probably where they were, keeping an eye on GrayCris.
From my eavesdropping, I also learned that the company transport was still two days out. Which meant I’d be sitting in the hopper’s cargo pod for the entirety of those two days, with the carrier holding position in orbit. It never would’ve worked if I’d been human, but as a SecUnit, it wouldn’t be a problem. I’d spent much longer in transport crates while getting shipped to and from contracts. The cargo pod was positively roomy in comparison.
The half-squadron from the carrier ship still did regular flybys over those two days, but I was getting better at ignoring them and their occasional pings. Once I was confident that nothing much else would be happening for a while, I set a few alerts on my various feeds, backburnered them, and settled in for some serious Sanctuary Moon time.
The company transport’s arrival was pretty anticlimactic. When it reached orbit, the humans and their equipment and luggage were flown up to it by shuttle, then the bots were brought down to disassemble and pack up the habitat. The hoppers were loaded into shuttles without even being checked, much to my relief. I kept tabs on the bots’ communications just in case they noticed and reported anything, but nothing happened. They were very simple, low-level bots, so even if they had noticed something I doubted they’d even think to report on it.
As soon as the shuttle carrying the hopper came within range of the transport, I stealthily worked my way into its SecSystem, making sure it (and by extension, the bot pilot) would ignore my presence. Once I was in SecSystem, it wasn’t difficult to get into the transport’s HubSystem from there. (I didn’t really need to be in HubSystem, honestly, I could do everything I needed to with just SecSystem. But it made me feel better to have the extra access, just in case.) (It also let me check out the media archives on the ship to see if there was anything new that I didn’t have yet.) (There was a new season of one of the serials I’d watched before and enjoyed, which I promptly downloaded to my own storage.)
I used SecSystem’s cameras to keep tabs on the ship’s bridge so I could eavesdrop on anything the crew said, and the cargo hold so I could make sure nobody was about to check the hopper’s cargo pods. I also used the cameras to check on the PreservationAux humans. They were already settled into the cabins they’d be staying in for the trip back to the station, talking quietly amongst themselves. I’d found out from poking through SecSystem that a separate transport would be picking up the GrayCris humans, so I didn’t have to worry about any of GrayCris trying to get revenge on the PreservationAux humans or doing anything else stupid during the journey back. I also didn’t have to worry about the carrier or its fliers for much longer - they wouldn’t be escorting this transport, they’d be staying back to wait for the transport that would pick up GrayCris.
This transport was, however, being used to pick up the DeltFall habitat, and what was left of the DeltFall survey group. (I tried very hard not to think about my client list. I could have deleted it, but I hadn’t yet. I didn’t know why. Maybe I would once I got to the station.) I used HubSystem to check the DeltFall inventory list - and there it was. All four SecUnits assigned to the DeltFall survey group, including the one with attached flier, were listed as destroyed and off inventory.
As far as the company was concerned, I was officially dead.
Now that I’d made it onto the transport undetected, all I had to do was wait, and hope that things went just as smoothly when we reached the station.
I had been half-expecting something to go wrong during the journey back to the station, but nothing out of the ordinary happened, and I was able to watch both the serials that Gurathin had given me uninterrupted. I had assumed that since they’d been made in Preservation, watching them would give me a better idea of what Preservation would be like. Unless Preservation had enchanted forests with talking trees, or telepathic dragons with magical powers, that assumption was very, very wrong. Still, they were entertaining and suitably unrealistic, and they helped pass the time.
I also decided, about halfway through the trip, to check out at least one of the news reports about Ganaka, mostly out of morbid curiosity about how the company would’ve tried to spin the story of one of their SecUnits committing war crimes. I ended up watching all of them, to see if any of them said anything different from the first one.
I hadn’t been expecting what I found.
There had been some variations across the reports, but the key points were consistent. According to all of the news reports, Ganaka had been attacked by seven flier-equipped SecUnits, not just one. Not just me. That was over half a squadron. (Not even my organic bits had any memory of ever being in a squadron to start with. Why couldn’t I remember that?) We had allegedly been hijacked by some kind of remotely delivered malware during a routine demonstration featuring the squadron that the company had been putting on for potential clients. The hack acted in a similar way to combat override modules, giving direct control of us to an outside party.
We’d been sent to another area away from the demonstration zone, and directed to wipe out the Ganaka settlement as some kind of anti-construct statement, or anti-war machine statement, or anti-corporation statement, or something along those lines. Not all of the news reports agreed on the motives.
But all the reports agreed that whoever had hijacked us had wanted the entire Corporation Rim to see what happened. Our field cameras had been recording and transmitting back to the hijackers the entire time, and all the footage had been released publicly and anonymously. Segments of it - the aerial bombings, the ground assault afterwards, where we’d been made to land our fliers and go in on foot to finish off any survivors - were included in some of the news reports.
I wondered if any of the segments shown had been from my own cameras. Or if I had been any of the SecUnits visible in any of those clips. Watching the clips made my performance reliability drop a full five percent. I skipped past most of them to get back to the rest of the news reports.
The company’s response to the hijacking had been swift and thorough. They’d managed to recover us after what they referred to as “the incident”, and had launched an immediate investigation into who was behind it. They had, apparently, found enough evidence to pin it on a small out-system group who had previously been very vocal about their anti-corporation sentiments. The legal proceedings had been swift and punitive, the out-system group found unanimously guilty. The group had been dissolved and the individuals harshly sentenced.
Most of the news reports had taken the company’s word for the accuracy of their investigation, but there were a handful of reports from competing corporate territories and polities outside the Corporation Rim that had doubted its veracity. There was some speculation that the investigation had been a little too swift, that the supposedly guilty group had been nothing more than convenient scapegoats. I had no idea if anything had come of that speculation though. Gurathin hadn’t included any reports beyond those in the files he had given me.
I didn’t know what to think. I had so little memory of what had happened at Ganaka that it had never occurred to me that I might not have been the only one involved. After I’d woken up from the memory wipe, all I’d known was that I’d killed a whole lot of civilians, but I didn’t know why. If I’d been a human, I probably would have been arrested for war crimes. As a SecUnit though, I’d just had my memory purged. I couldn’t think of any reason why I would have wanted to kill so many civilians, so I’d thought that my governor module had malfunctioned and made me kill them. That was why I’d broken my governor module - so that it could never malfunction and force me to commit war crimes ever again.
But I hadn’t been the only one involved. I, and half my squadron that I couldn't even remember, hadn’t even had a choice in it - we’d simply been used as a tool, a weapon, for someone else’s purposes. (To be fair, that wasn’t any different from the rest of my existence. On all the contracts I’d been on, I’d been listed as either “equipment” or “weapon” or both.) I couldn’t tell if this made me feel better or worse. There was just an indecipherable tangle of emotions sitting in my head that I couldn’t even begin to sort out, and I hated it.
I decided to stop thinking about it. There wasn’t anything I could do about any of it, anyway. I couldn’t go back and change what had happened. I couldn’t fix anything.
So I just started up Sanctuary Moon from the first episode, and let myself think about nothing at all.
As soon as we came out of the wormhole, I paused the episode I’d been watching and began paying very close attention to the transport’s bridge and comms. We were in the company’s territory now, and the company was paranoid. I was worried that the perimeter sensors, or the scanners on the smaller security stations lining the approach from the wormhole to the central station, or the scanners on the various large and heavily armed carriers and supercarriers holding position in space would somehow pick up on an active SecUnit in a transport where there wasn’t meant to be one.
But my fears turned out to be mostly unfounded. The company was paranoid, but it had no reason to be looking for one of its own SecUnits in the first place. I was company equipment, on board a company ship, that had the right company codes, returning from a company mission. The smaller security stations and the various other ships let the transport pass without issue, and we continued on towards the company’s central station.
As one of their main bases of operations and deployment centres, the station was massive and heavily defended. Not even the most aggressive of raiders (or the company’s competitors) would risk a direct, all out attack on a company station. Anything that came out of the wormhole without pre-approved identification codes would be immediately under the scrutiny of the security stations, which were little more than sensor-heavy, remote-controlled weapons platforms. They were the first line of defence, and would soften up any enemy forces while the gunships, carriers, and supercarriers moved into position and launched their squadrons of fliers. Anything that managed to make it past the security stations would then have to deal with all the armed company ships that weren’t currently out on deployment, or were permanently stationed here as defence.
That was a hell of a lot of guns.
The station was also a major transit hub for this sector of the Corporation Rim. Non-company ships queued outside the public and merchant docks, waiting their turn for a berth. More ships lined up on the approach to the wormhole. As a company ship though, the transport got to bypass the queues and head directly for one of the reserved docks. I really hoped that this would mean security at that dock would be more relaxed than at the public or merchant docks. I’d never been deployed on the station before - whenever I’d been there, it had been in a transport crate or a cubicle, so I had no real idea what to expect. I didn’t know how accurate the various stations I’d seen on my serials were to the real thing.
I was expecting that getting off the ship unnoticed would be difficult, but it actually ended up being almost concerningly easy. As soon as I was within range of the station’s feed, I was able to slip into its SecSystem with very little effort. (All the earlier practice on the habitat SecSystem and the transport SecSystem really paid off.) The only differences between the station SecSystem and the habitat or transport SecSystems I’d already gotten into was the size and the addition of weapons scanners. Everything else was the same - the protocols, the sensors, the cameras, everything. The company was paranoid, but it was also cheap. No point spending money on different varieties of SecSystem when the one you had worked just fine.
By the time the ship docked, I’d already used the station cameras to check out the cargo dock the transport would be using to unload, and plotted my escape route. The cargo area was also almost completely bot-run, with only a couple of human supervisors overseeing the work from a small office. According to their feed activity, they didn’t seem to be paying a lot of attention to what was going on. I managed to scrape a few access codes from their feeds without being noticed.
I waited in an out-of-sight corner of the transport’s cargo hold for the bots to get started on unloading. I’d already changed into the PreservationAux uniform, my armour packed neatly into my bag and its carry strap slung over my shoulder. Once the bots were all fully occupied with unloading, I simply followed one out of the transport’s cargo hold, using its bulk to shield me from the cameras and the supervisor’s office window. I could remove myself from the cameras, yes, but it was a lot less effort if I was never on the cameras to start with, or if I was only on one or two of them instead of all of them.
The bots, not having any orders about SecUnits on the cargo dock, ignored me completely. I just walked across the entire cargo area until I reached the exit, making sure to erase myself from any of the cameras that managed to catch sight of me. I hacked the weapons scanners to ignore the guns built into my arms, used the access codes I’d scraped from the supervisors’ feeds to open the doors, waited until the station cameras showed a lull in the foot traffic on the other side, and slipped through.
And then I was out of the cargo area, and on the station itself, in one of the lower port work zones. I had to pause in an out of the way nook and take a moment to just… process that. I’d actually made it to the station.
I was still in range of the transport’s feed, and using its interior cameras to keep track of the PreservationAux humans as they also began to disembark, exiting the ship via the passenger lock on the next level up. Once they’d left the ship, I switched to using the station’s cameras to watch them. If I was going to meet up with them at some point, I’d need to know where they were going.
A company representative met them once they were on the station, apparently there to escort them to a company hotel. Of course the company would want to keep them close by while the whole situation with GrayCris and DeltFall was taken care of. That would make meeting up with them a lot trickier, if they had humans from the company with them all the time. I could hide my presence from bots and cameras, but not actual humans seeing me with their eyes.
The PreservationAux humans did an admirable job of not blatantly looking around for me as they left the dock areas and followed the company human into the station proper. A part of me wondered if they’d just forgotten about me. Perhaps it would be better if they had.
I still hadn’t decided if I was actually going to go with them to Preservation or not. I’d been putting off thinking about it, reasoning to myself that there was no point considering the options until I’d actually made it off the transport and onto the station. I was on the station now, undetected, and I’d have to make up my mind soon.
But not just yet.
I got a map of the station off a public feed, and began making my way towards the ramps that would lead me out of the port work zone and up to the level that the others were on. It was excruciating walking amongst other humans like I was one of them - I kept expecting someone to notice me, to sound the alarm, but nobody did. My clothes hid all my inorganic parts, including the data port on the back of my neck, and nobody looked at me twice, or even once. Everyone was too busy going their own way, or checking the feed for information, or talking with other humans they were walking with. It hit me that I was just as anonymous in a crowd of humans who didn’t know each other as I was in my armour, in a group of other SecUnits.
The bag I was carrying helped. It gave me something to do with that arm, and made me look like just another traveller passing through the station on the way to somewhere else. I was also using its carry strap to partially obscure the PreservationAux logo on the uniform, so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious to anyone who looked at me. The rest of the uniform was nondescript enough that it didn’t draw any attention. I still did my best to remove myself from the station’s cameras though, just in case.
When I made it up to the next level, out of the port work zone and into what looked to be a major commercial zone, the number of humans around me increased even more. This did not help my anxiety in the slightest, but it also gave me more people to blend in with. I picked a group that looked like they were travellers and not company employees and tagged along behind them, doing my best to imitate their movements and mannerisms while not drawing their attention. They were also heading in the same general direction that the PreservationAux humans were going, which was convenient.
We walked down the big multilevel centre ring, past office blocks and shopping centres, crowded with every kind of person and bot, flash data displays darting around, a hundred different public feeds brushing my awareness. It was just like a place from the entertainment feed, but bigger and brighter and noisier. There were an overwhelming number of unfamiliar smells, too. I found feeds with more media on offer, and I couldn’t resist starting a few downloads of serials and music albums that seemed interesting.
The group I was trailing along with eventually turned off into a hotel block, but I continued past it. I was still keeping track of PreservationAux via the station cameras, and saw them be ushered into another hotel block deeper in the station by the company representative. Mensah paused briefly at the threshold to look around - she seemed to be scanning the crowd - then followed the rest inside.
I kept going until I reached that hotel, then paused at a nearby directory, as though I was checking directions or looking up business listings. I could feel the edge of the PreservationAux group’s feed, and I still had access. I slipped into it carefully, not wanting to alert them while the company representative was still with them. I couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation via their feed, but I could see the documents and schedules they were adding and updating as they talked. They were apparently discussing various upcoming meetings to go over everything that had happened with GrayCris and DeltFall, and all the legal proceedings that would be involved. It looked like it would take dozens of cycles. They wouldn’t be heading to Preservation any time soon.
I had to decide what to do - I couldn’t put it off any longer. I really didn’t want to follow them into that hotel. It was too risky. I wasn’t meant to be with them, I wouldn’t be able to hide my presence from company representatives that went to talk to them, and they’d have to stay on the station for way too long before they could continue on to Preservation. I also couldn’t just hang around outside the hotel or wander around the station the entire time either; eventually someone would notice me and my odd behaviour. I couldn’t risk that.
Not wanting to wait around for the PreservationAux humans made me realise... I didn't actually want to go to Preservation with them. I didn't want to become some kind of pet bot. Pet construct. Whatever. And now that I was here, on the station, I had options.
The realisation stunned me a little, I’ll admit. I’d been putting off deciding whether or not to go with them to Preservation, but I’d never even considered any kind of alternative. I’d never thought to hope that I would even have alternatives.
I was doing so now. I was off inventory, and could just go… wherever I wanted. I could check out other stations, other territories outside the company’s, other non-corporation polities. (But not planets. I’d had more than enough of planets.) I could leave the Corporation Rim entirely. I could, perhaps, make my own way to Preservation by myself, eventually, if I felt like it at some point in the future.
There were so many options, too many. I couldn’t even begin to think of where I would go yet. The important part was to get off the station and out of the company’s territory. I could figure out the rest as I went along.
I slipped back out of PreservationAux’s feed, and headed away from the hotel. I used the map I’d gotten earlier to figure out a different route back towards the docks, taking some time to just look around the station. I wasn’t in any particular rush, and I was still downloading media.
Eventually my downloads finished and I left the station’s commercial zone and made my way along the big central corridor into the port’s embarkation zone, just one of hundreds of travellers headed for the public section of the ship ring.
I checked the schedule feeds and found that one of the ships getting ready to launch was a bot-driven cargo transport. I plugged into its access from the stationside lock, and greeted it. It could have ignored me, but it was bored. It greeted me back and opened its feed for me. Bots that are also ships don’t communicate in words. I pushed the thought toward it that I was a happy servant bot who needed a ride to rejoin its beloved guardian, and did it want company on its long trip? I showed it how many hours of shows and music and other media I had saved to share with it.
Cargo transport bots also watch the entertainment feeds, it turns out.
I don’t yet know what I want, apart from being able to fly again. I’m pretty sure I said that at some point earlier. But it isn’t that, not entirely. It’s that I don’t want anyone else to tell me what I want, or to make those decisions for me.
That’s why I didn’t rejoin you, Dr. Mensah, my favourite human. By the time you get this, I’ll be leaving company territory. Off inventory and out of sight.
Murderbot end message.
