Work Text:
When Ayda Mensah received a ping from a familiar source in an unfamiliar situation, she was surprised. She was basking in the quiet of her home while Tano and the children treated Farai to sweets at the local market.
Hi. It's me. As if anyone else would ping her interface while she was at the farm.
Hello SecUnit, she said in acknowledgement. What brings you down to the planet? I thought you were staying on the station until Perihelion returned.
Ayda couldn't help but feel anxiety bubble up inside her. SecUnit never came for an unplanned visit.
As if it could read her thoughts, it said, Song. They never had made new code words. It paused ever so slightly before adding, I brought you something.
She released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
It's lovely to hear from you. Everyone will be delighted that you're coming. The children especially enjoy visits from SecUnit since it tended to bring them all manner of new and exciting media.
I'm not staying, I just have to do this one thing.
Alright, that's fine. When should I expect you?
She had barely finished the message before the front door received a request to open. She accepted and the door slid open.
Ayda took a moment to allow her eyes to scan her visitor as it stepped inside. She often wondered if it would ever cease to surprise her how novel it was to see SecUnit in her personal spaces. Not that it didn't belong – it fit so well into the eclectic atmosphere of her life. Even if it would never admit such a thing. She wanted it to be safe and feel safe here. How strange and tragic an existence it has had that being on a planet felt less safe than being out in the expanse of space.
“SecUnit,” she greeted it warmly, her eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Hi,” it replied. It met her gaze for a long moment – an unspoken signifier that it had something deeply important to say but that it was struggling with saying it.
“Come and sit down. You said you brought something for me?” She gestured to the armchair in the corner of the room that she knew was its favorite spot to sit when it was here.
“Uh, I'm not staying long.” It looked past her into the kitchen where people normally bustled about.
She nodded, “So you said.”
“Ratthi said that today was a holiday for mothers.”
That was unexpected. She smiled.
“He is correct. Farai is out getting celebrated right now for the holiday.”
SecUnit’s face scrunched.
“Did you not get celebrated?” Its voice betrayed its concern and was that irritation she heard?
“Oh, don't worry! I did and will again when they return. Farai sometimes likes to do things out of the house while I prefer to stay home when I'm here. I'm having a lovely time by myself. Everyone has their preferences.”
It shifted on its feet and ran a hand through its hair.
“Yeah, I guess.”
She waited.
“I don't have a mother.”
Her face betrayed her slight flinch before she could stop it.
“No, you don't.”
It suddenly stood straighter and stopped twitching. She recognized that it had turned off its human-imitation code. It looked her in the eyes.
“But you're a mother and you're important to me. Not in a weird way.”
She smiled at it and held its gaze until it looked away again.
“You're important to me, too.”
“So, uh, those are for you,” it said, pointing out the door to where its rented ground vehicle sat. “And for Farai,” it rushed to add.
Ayda stepped onto the porch and properly looked at the vehicle.
The compartment for carrying equipment was filled with flowering bushes in containers of all shapes and sizes.
“I, uh, wasn't sure what you would like the best so I bought a lot. They're ones you can put in the dirt yourself, since you like that.”
Ayda’s heart clenched for the incalculably hard yet beautifully soft person before her.
Her eyes may have watered. She didn't trust her normally-composed voice.
Thank you, SecUnit. Truly. These are beautiful.
It looked at her face again.
Happy Mother's Day, Dr. Mensah.