Work Text:
No one told us these new clients liked to beat each other up for fun. You would think something like that might be in our contract client information package. Or told to a technician who could specify parameters to allow sparring in the first place. Hell, even just telling us it was a normal activity right before it started might have worked. It would have saved me from the grief of being punished for harming a client while breaking up perceived real fight. Not by the Governor Module, though. Just... handsy clients. Why did these humans like to do this anyways? Previous clients broke out into groups and played for possession of a brown ball, using buckets, with their bottoms cut out, hung between habitat buildings to score points. I would have much preferred that over the sparring.
It was early in the contract, and while we had a routine down for patrol routes and such, anytime the humans congregated in large numbers, either One or I would stand nearby to supervise. Just in case one of the humans decided to get murdery or something. One normally stood in the cafeteria at all mealtimes, occasionally answering questions from Captain Waters. This time it was my turn to awkwardly stand behind the crowd and watch the events unfold.
The start of these sparring sessions usually began with the two opponents poking fun at each other (The humans kept calling it “throwing hands,” which I didn’t understand at first. Humans can't detach their hands to throw at each other without causing severe trauma to themselves and that was just messy. That isn’t what happened.) There were light insults and jokes that everyone laughed at. Once they did start throwing hands (seriously, who came up with the name?) another human would step in and start keeping score with some inane system I couldn’t make sense of.
Human #1 had just tossed some insult at his opponent relating to genital size and being smaller than Dr Smith’s. The crowd roared with laughter. I didn’t understand since most of Dr Smith’s lower body wasn’t even organic according to the client files. Maybe they didn’t know that? Or maybe they did and...oh. What is it with humans and genitals? I’ve had a few previous clients get upset about One and my lack of those, too, which... yeah. I don’t really want to talk about that. I’m not sure how Dr Smith would feel being the subject of a joke, but that wasn’t what I was here to police. I was just here to make sure actual fighting was kept to a minimum. (I noticed later when Captain Waters joined in on supervising the fun, the jokes conveniently left Dr Smith out.)
I had, mostly, been zoning the whole situation out when Risk Assessment and Threat Assessment both alerted me to a change in the mood of the group. Human #2 had lifted his hands in a defensive guard, sliding his right foot back to widen his stance. Human #1 had mimicked the posture and the crowd had gone mostly silent. I could hear whispers in front of me and saw hard currency cards being tapped against one human’s handheld device. Gambling. Again. That would make incident #32 so far for the past 1008 hours on this planet.
Human #1 dodged the first open handed attack by Human #2 and had been initiating a counter when I interrupted. I rushed forward, grasping Human #1’s wrist and forcefully bending it away from his body, up and around his back. I had moved so fast none of the humans had reacted until Human #1 was already on his knees, teeth bared in frustration and pain. Lots of angry noises erupted at once from the crowd and I looked up, confused. I could feel One turn more of its attention towards the scouting drone input I had given it access to hours prior. It wouldn’t come to my location without my request for it to do so, but it would monitor the situation from a distance. I could tell it kind of wanted to join me regardless of the protocol we put in place, though. The jittery feeling bleeding from it in our shared feed space registered as nervousness to me.
“Please take said differences to the work supervisor on duty. Violence towards coworkers is not authorized.” I said politely. More angry noises and gestures from the humans.
“Stupid fuckin’ bot.” Someone had muttered.
“Someone get it out of here.”
“Call Cap. Have her grab her pet.”
I saw through one of the two drones I had with me that a human from the crowd had bent over to grab something and tossed what appeared to be a shoe at my back. It hit its mark with a dull thump. Threat Assessment had a field day over that, but I assured it that the threat was minimal. I felt that acting on that display of anger might take the situation somewhere I didn’t want to be. Human #1 made a pained sound from his throat, and Human #2 rushed over to me, hitting my shoulder with his balled fist. Threat Assessment instructed me to stop that, but I ignored it as Risk Assessment said stopping that would definitely escalate the situation. HubSys didn’t give a shit (as usual) but did allow me to send an alert to Captain Waters for assistance. I could have asked One, but I had a feeling asking the other SecUnit to show up when the humans were mad at me wouldn’t have helped at all.
“Fucking let go of him, you idiot.” Human #2 demanded, smacking the back of my head. I felt a tightness in my chest as my jaw clenched in response to the physical reprimand. A brief thought of retaliation flashed through my mind. I felt One press against me in the feed; Doing its best to calm me down while not being physically present. I knew what it was trying to say. It’s not worth it, Two. You’ll end up punished for it. I couldn’t defend myself from them, even if I wanted to, without tripping the Governor Module into shocking me for it.
I released Human #1 stood up slowly, doing my best to maintain the SecUnit neutral expression that was expected of me. My Medical Trauma Module had suggested for me to alert Daksha Mathai and MedSys for an incoming patient, so I did. MedSys pinged acknowledgement a whole 20 seconds before Daksha did. Human #2 helped Human #1 stand (who carefully brought their arm to their chest, cradling it) and together they walked out of the small circle of humans I stood in.
Assistance required? One asked in the feed.
I quickly sent back, Negative.
No, having One here would complicate the matter. The humans were mad I had interfered. Bringing another non-human into the situation would do the opposite of what I wanted which was get out of this ordeal in one piece.
The brief silence between Human #1 and #2’s departure and Captain Waters’ arrival was tense. Threat Assessment hovered at a “you should probably find an exit strategy” level. I could see through both drone inputs that I was being sized up by more than one human, but also knew that these humans weren’t dumb enough to try anything without knowing whether I was authorized to defend myself from clients (I wasn’t.) If they knew that, I was screwed.
“What’s going on?” Captain Waters asked as she rounded the corner of the cafeteria building and for the first time so far on this contract, I was relieved to see her. She looked at me first, before turning her gaze to the small ring of humans around me. I felt One’s attention begin to drift away again as it correctly assumed I was now safe.
“Your stupid pet bot probably broke Nakazawa’s arm.” Human #3 snapped, tossing a glare at me.
That was... highly unlikely. I hadn’t exerted enough force for that. More than likely a severe sprain that would require a brace for a few weeks after MedSys injected pain relief and repair proteins.
And I won’t even comment about the stupid nickname they’ve started calling me.
I didn’t argue, though, as that would be grounds for punishment from the Governor Module. Captain Waters made a face.
“Okay, so, one – it is not my ‘stupid pet bot.’ It is a SecUnit here to make sure we’re all safe and nothing gets damaged beyond repair. Two, I just passed Nakazawa, and it does not look like he has a broken arm. I think that’s a bit dramatic. Three, what were you doing that would have caused Sinatra to have acted that way?” She said, her voice tinged with annoyance.
Well, thank you, Captain Waters. I’m glad I have at least one human on my side. Human #3 stuttered for a moment, seemingly taking back by how quickly the captain sided with me.
“We were doing what we normally do for fun. Sparring-”
“And you didn’t think that, maybe, that might look aggressive to a SecUnit whose sole job is to make sure its clients and equipment don’t get harmed?” She countered quickly. Human #3 remained silent, blinking rapidly as their mind processed what she was saying. Finally, they looked away, dark skin darkening further with a blush.
“Yes, Captain. I see now. Sorry,” they said still not making eye contact with Captain Waters. She turned to me.
“Sinatra, from now on the sparring is allowed, okay?”
“Yes, Captain.” I replied politely, sending the updated parameters to HubSys and One. Both pinged back in acknowledgement.
Captain Waters stuck by my side for a while after that. We watched the sparring resume with different partners. She didn’t speak to me, either too intent on watching her crew and making sure they behaved or was aware of how awkward I felt in the situation. I checked MedSys for an update on Human #1 and saw that I had hyper-extended his elbow. Whatever that meant. That he was going to wear a brace for a few weeks while the joint and its tendons had time to heal.
“Sinatra.”
I glanced down at Captain Waters briefly. She was not facing me, instead watching the two men grappling in the dirt. She folded her arms over her chest.
“Yes, Captain?” I replied, knowing I probably waited a tad too long in my response.
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” She asked, glancing up at me from the corner of her eye. “The crew, I mean.”
Well, they tried to hurt me. I’m not sure it was intentional or just a frustrated non-thought action. But did it actually hurt me? No, I don’t think so. It was annoying and aggravating, but that doesn’t matter because I’m a SecUnit and we’re treated like that and worse all the time. The head smacks were pretty on brand for what I've experienced on my last few contracts. Maybe that was why it had made me so angry. But overall, no, I didn’t think any of the interactions called for having HubSys report to Captain Waters.
“No, Captain,” I said softly. She made a sound like she didn’t believe me.
There was a pause as the two men in the dirt broke apart by the referee's command, and the winner was announced. A small mix of groans and cheers came from the crowd in front of us. I had made a small note that the crew of this contract had gambling issues a while back and had been preparing to send a report to Captain Waters or Dr Smith with suggestions to stop said activity. Apparently, given how she didn’t react to the flashing of hard currency cards now, they were aware of it and didn’t care.
Well, okay then.
“I didn’t know SecUnits could lie,” Captain Waters said nonchalantly, still watching the crowd in front of her. I swapped one of my drone inputs to her and I guess she noticed the movement from the drone as it did so. She smiled, amused.
“SecUnits are not allowed to lie to clients, Captain. That was not a lie,” I replied doing my best to keep any emotion out of my voice. While yes, we couldn’t lie, we could stretch the truth or ‘not see’ something as it happens. For example, a favored client had sneaked a second protein bar this morning in the cafeteria that I conveniently didn’t see them taking from the cabinet. In the case of breaking up Human Fight Club, yes, they tried to hurt me, but I didn’t feel they succeeded in that objective. I didn’t want any of the humans punished for it because that usually lead to retaliation or more resentment in the long run. And they already hated that One and I were here, so. Yeah.
“Well, the shoe print on your back tells a different story,” Captain Waters said finally, moving her eyes to me. I moved the drone input I had on her to look at my back and, yep, there was a dusty print right along my spinal column. I guess my face did something at that because she laughed. I shifted to properly face her, returning the drone to its first position where it could monitor the humans playing Fight Club.
“Safety equipment was thrown, but I was not hurt.” I amended politely. It would take a lot more than a tossed shoe to hurt me. She had to know that.
Captain Waters paused, considering my choice of words. I had a feeling she knew why I was being obtuse about the whole issue. That this was something that came up in human-to-human conflicts as well. She turned her head back to watch as two new sparring participants took center stage, shaking hands with one another then falling into ready stances. There was more tapping of hard currency cards against the same human’s device in the crowd (incident #33.)
“Some of these people came from contracted slave labor camps. They’re a bit soured on the idea of having SecUnits with us, and I can’t really blame them for that mindset. I’m hoping that once they realize this isn’t the same as their previous place of employment that... maybe they’ll cut you and Michael some slack.” She glanced back up at me and added, “for now, all I can do is apologize for any hardships they cause you two and do what I can to minimize it.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I didn’t. Thankfully, Captain Waters wasn’t expecting any kind of response either. She had turned her head back to watching the scuffle with passive interest. No one had ever apologized for clients being shitty to us. It was kind of part of who we are at this point. The unwanted SecUnits. The bad guys. And there had been contracts where we were indeed the bad guys. One did like hurting humans on occasion. When ordered to do so, of course. I’m not sure why and I never felt comfortable enough to ask.
“Can I ask you a question?” Captain Waters asked, breaking the silence between us. I would have rolled my eyes if I knew she wouldn’t have seen it. An itchiness bloomed in my chest that took me a full second to register as irritation. I felt One devote a little more attention to me in response, genuinely curious what was causing the emotional reading it was getting in our shared feed. Yes, you can ask all the questions you want. You know as well as I do that, I’m obligated to answer them. No matter how dumb they are.
“Yes, Captain.” I replied, my voice SecUnit neutral.
“Why did that technician name you Sinatra? Is he just an oldies fan or do you enjoy music too?” She looked up at me again, saying the last part a bit quieter so the clients in front of us couldn’t hear. They already think you’re crazy, Captain, so it’s not like talking to me is going to change anything.
That’s a dumb question. Of course, I enjoy music. Who doesn’t?
But it’s not like I can pick whatever I want to listen to. Usually, we just hope a client has one of those audio devices playing in the same room as us. (I realize I’m probably being way too much of an asshole about Captain Waters, but she kind of gives off that vibe to me. Not to One though. One adores Captain Waters.) Technician Darin never said why he named us what he did. And it’s not like it matters anyways. So far, only Captain Waters was calling us by the human names. Daksha was toying with the idea still, like she felt it wasn’t something she was allowed to do. Dr Smith used both the names and our designated numbers interchangeably, but mostly just the numbers. I’m assuming that was from habit, though. The consensus I got from the other clients was that it was too weird to do so.
I never found out if the other SecUnits in the company had nicknames assigned to them like us, either. I never felt I could ask that question since it didn’t directly relate to a contract or something within the current Ready Room One and I were stationed in at the time with Technician Darin.
I considered my response for 1.57 seconds before just allowing a buffer phrase to do it for me.
“I’m sorry, I do not have that information,” I said politely. Captain Waters seemed a little disappointed at that but didn’t press further.
Assistance requested? One asked, the curiosity in its feed voice still present.
Oh yes, please. Save me.
Yes, I said and forwarded coordinates to our location. Now I could swap places with One and it could enjoy the odd bonding it's been doing with the captain on its own time. If the humans had to call one of us Captain’s Pet, it should be One. How they got us mixed up, I’ll never know. One looks nothing like me, and we have our numbers on our shirts. It’s not hard, humans. Use your eyes.