Chapter Text
Volescu's first communication from SecUnit, once it had pieced together its brain again and settled into Preservation a little more, appeared in his feed inbox right as he took a sip of his morning coffee.
He stopped idly scrolling through the newsfeeds to stare at the notification, a little surprised. Of course, he had sent a message of welcome and well wishes after SecUnit had decided to stay on Preservation Station, but he hadn't expected anything in reply. SecUnit didn't really seem the type for casual socialization...
He opened the notification.
Neetha looked up from her own breakfast at Volescu's sudden unwilling snicker. "What is it?" she asked, smiling. A little surprised. Volescu, reminded of his withdrawal from the rest of the family since his last survey, almost winced, before reminding himself that trauma responses were both unpredictable and unavoidable. His loved ones are willing to be patient in the meantime."Something funny on the news?"
SecUnit had sent him a link to his own retirement announcement, as well as a certificate it must have made. The certificate had tasteful, intricate scrollwork at the borders and a beautiful font, and the words "MOST SENSIBLE HUMAN" in capital letters across the top. Neetha leaned over the table to read it, brows wrinkling a little.
The brief note attached read, "Don't go flinging yourself into danger again without notifying your contracted SecUnit 3-5 business days in advance. I'm not liable for any damages incurred if you do decide to go off on your own nor will I be contractually obligated to provide an extraction but I'll probably do it anyways. Don't make me do it anyways."
Nothing dangerous or emergent. Nothing to lay awake worrying about. Just a... friend, who he had made during one of the worst, most traumatizing experiences of his life, who was reaching out now that no one's life was at risk.
Another message notification appeared. Volescu opened it to find a generic animated card SecUnit had obviously swiped from the feed somewhere. Below the cartoon balloons and confetti, SecUnit had filled out: "Happy sensible retirement from boring but dangerous survey work that other humans should also imitate! Warmest wishes to you and your family!"
When Volescu finally stopped laughing, Neetha was regarding him with warm affection and relief. He hadn't spoken much- or at all- about what had made him decide to retire. Even with his spouses, all the details had stopped up somewhere in his throat- Bharadwaj's horrific injuries, his close brush with death. DeltFall. SecUnit, getting hurt horribly to keep them safe, and then vanishing into the unknown to potentially get caught by corporates and disassembled...
It had been too hard to talk about, to anyone who hadn't been there.
He hadn't really enjoyed or laughed much at anything since his retirement, either. But SecUnit's message made it somehow easier to remember the lighter moments. There had been good things that had come out of all of that mess- SecUnit itself being the biggest example- and SecUnit reaching out made all the bad things seem... finished, concluded. SecUnit was here now, and safe, and joking around to its clients about humans always flinging themselves into danger. And something about its resigned, half-serious sarcasm made Volescu feel like a weight had been lifted off his chest.
He'd struggled unexpectedly with his retirement. Not at first, when he was just so happy to be able to see his family again, but later. When the suit against GrayCris had dragged on longer and Dr. Mensah had been taken to TranRollinHyfa, he had started to rethink his decision to remove himself from everything going on. It was an unreasonable thing to feel guilty about when Volescu knew there was no expertise he could have contributed that could have helped, nothing for anyone to gain by him continuing his work or going to TranRollinHyfa. But it had still felt... bad, that he had been able to gain distance from his trauma and stress and his friends were still wading in the thick of it.
SecUnit's little joke helped a lot, surprisingly. Maybe it was that reassurance, that it didn't blame him for not trying to do more after the survey. Maybe it was that offhanded affirmation that retiring from having to go into dangerous situations with corporates was something to be desired.
Maybe it was just that the certificate and card were so ridiculous that it broke through whatever anxious cycle his brain had been stuck in since he had almost been eaten. Whatever it was, Volescu felt something in him relax.
Things were getting better, now.