Work Text:
Never tell it he said this–it’s gotten its ego blown up by its little Perihelion too much already–but Gurathin did appreciate SecUnit’s surveillance.
And not just when it saved their lives.
After the thing with Graycris, the entire PreservationAux team was swamped with reports and contracts and whatever else was shoved at their faces. Most of it was redundant, too. So that sucked.
And by sucked, Gurathin meant he couldn’t remember the last time he slept. He couldn’t remember anything, actually, other than the report blinding in front of him on a physical feed device. He could have done it in his head, sure, but that was when he wasn’t feeling his brain melt after having been doing the same thing over and over and over again. For days. Stars, how had SecUnit managed it? For years, too, not just a couple of weeks that had a strict deadline of ending. The Graycris issue was nearly resolved, but Graycris really didn’t want it to be, so they were fighting tooth and nail to move the case back a couple of months, probably so they could scramble for any evidence that would keep them afloat. So, Preservation had to counter however they could.
He’d been just staring at the report in front of him for no one knew how long, the words blurring together. He was really just hoping that it would write itself, but his fingers still numbly typed. He was only 48% sure he was typing what he meant to be typing, but. Well. He rubbed at his eyes and squinted at the screen as he took a sip of his drink.
Huh. That’s odd.
The last couple of paragraphs of his writing(and therefore the last few hours of him suffering, sitting here at his desk) was just “humans need rest periods” over and over again. His butt is numb and his head hurts and his throat is dry. And he really wants to go to bed. But he has to finish the report.
Something bumps into the side of his head, and he yelps and almost falls out of his chair.
Dr. Gurathin. Humans need rest periods.
Ah. SecUnit. One of its drones bumps into him again, and he realizes its shoving at the augment behind his ear that looks somewhat like SecUnits dataport. Trying to get him off the feed, he guesses. Another drone was buzzing at his physical feed device, shoving it slowly away from him. He hadn’t even noticed, because they were so small and couldn’t move the feed device very well. He can’t help it and laughs, blindly fumbling in the feed to reply.
After this report, SecUnit. I’ll go to bed. Promise.
The drones don’t stop, and SecUnit doesn’t send him an acknowledgement(it didn’t seem to like to talk to him more than necessary) so he sighs and watches the drones until the feed device is firmly out of his reach. Smiling, he gets up and stumbles to bed.