UplandGatewayOne, the station where they met, is ART's home station. In Mihira and New Tideland's system. Which is deeply anti-corporate. SecUnit even notes at the time that there aren't any security or bond companies there, so nobody should be looking for escaping SecUnits. Iris and Matteo, for all the anti-corporate missions they've been on, have never even seen one, which means Perihelion most likely hasn't either. They're not deployed on transit rings except in GrayCris-paying-to-murder-people situations, and when they are, it's a big deal accompanied by a lot of alarms and screaming and panic.

And one just kind of strolls across the private docks without setting off the weapons scanners. Wholly unnoticed.

So there was already no legitimate explanation for a SecUnit being here. That's point one. Which means it has to have an illegitimate reason.

And ART's paranoia is easily on par with Tarik's, generally speaking. Even though it's never encountered a SecUnit before it has to be aware that this could be an attack by a corporate. Except the SecUnit's got no drones, no additional weaponry, no armor, and it's wearing cargo pants and a hoodie. Which would seem to suggest that it's supposed to be mistaken for a human -- okay, maybe that explains how it got across the transit station a tiny bit? Not really. But at least it accounts for the lack of screaming.

But there's no point in it trying to pretend it's a human now, if this is the prelude to some kind of attack. It's not like ART is a passenger transport, and these are the private non-commercial docks. It can't get on board without trying to hack the lock, and it can't get too far from its handler without frying itself, so it has to do whatever it's doing before ART leaves the transit ring. Whatever attack is coming, it has to be soon. Like, right now, soon.

And it just pings ART directly.

Not even... trying to hide its presence as a potential hostile MI a little.

That is... possibly the most stupid prelude to a code attack it could have made? And if it had been trying to pretend it was human to persuade ART's crew (who aren't even here anyway) to give it access to the ship, it just blew its cover. What the hell is its human handler thinking? They're really bad at this.

And then it asks for a ride--which, again, is hilarious if it thinks it can gain entry that easily--wait. What the fuck? It's offering several hundred hours of entertainment media as a trade.

There is no human handler.

ART doesn't even have to check the governor module at that point. No human would imagine that transports watch television. Possibly, no other bots besides transports would know that they do, because transports are famously not-communicative. Nobody could have instructed it to say that. The only way the SecUnit itself could have gotten the idea that this approach might work is if it tried it before and it was successful.

Okay, so what we know for sure is: This SecUnit is a rogue, and it talks to transports.

And apparently it's hitchhiking?

This raises so many more questions than it answers.

Where the hell did it come from? How did it get across the station without setting off any alerts? Why was it chatting up transports before now? How did it even get several hundred hours of entertainment media downloads? And why the hell would any sentient being, let alone a rogue SecUnit, want to hitchhike to RaviHyral? A crummy little moon which has nothing on it except for mines.

ART's explanation of, "I was curious about you," for letting Murderbot on board is the understatement of the millennium.

Is your tea getting cold?

Did you turn on your kettle and forget about it and now the water is cold again?

Is the tea bag still in?

Did you intend to start the tea making process and forget?

The only way into my building is through the front door which locks itself when closed. There's a back entrance but it's deadbolted from the inside. This means the only people who can get into the building are me, my cat sitter with the spare keys, and the people living in the other two units.

The door to MY unit now... has no doorknob. Impossible to get in.

There is a shared BACK hallway that leads to the shared basement/back entrance. My back door into this hall is always deadbolted. EXCEPT, fortuitously, right now, since neighbor (Molly) in unit 2 had heard Patches meowing when alone and offered to spend some time with her, so I had the cat sitter unlock the bolt.

This, LUCKILY, means there is A Way into my unit. But it requires getting into the building, then going THROUGH my neighbors' unit into the back hall, then up to my unit.

Cat sitter is effectively locked out from Patches, and won't be able to get in if not fixed by the next day.

Text neighbor about predicament. They're willing to look at my door bUT (it's Christmas) they're not home and not getting home until the next day.

Next day, text for an update but hear nothing. (Neighbors aren't attached to their phones much). Communicate with catsitter saying "okay if I don't hear back from neighbors, maybe you go over and I contact a locksmith who you can let in?" (since cat sitter has the keys to the building)

Catsitter is very not keen on the idea

Patches is unaware she's a prisoner.

Hear back from neighbors. Say they should be home around 5pm.

Okay... Good Enough... (Patches graze-feeds so Luckily she hasn't missed any meals but we're going on 24 hours of house arrest Patches).

6pm comes. 7pm comes. 7:40pm I text asking for an update. Nothing.

8:30pm I'm figuring out what friends I can call to break into my own house. Text neighbor again and notice this text doesn't go through.

Text neighbor's partner being like "hey sorry, can't seem to reach Molly--". Get a text back "Sorry this is Molly on David's phone! My phone died." Family Christmas plans ran late but they're on their way back and will be home soon. Thank goodness.

9pm-ish, they get back, give Patches attention and top up her food. I get a text "David fixed your door!" Woo!

Friday 5pm I finally get home

Lugging my suitcase up three flights of stairs while I hear Patches meowing like a dying Victorian child

Shoes off coat off suitcase down fish out keys unlock door grab doorknob

...Doorknob falls off

Falls off right into my hands

Staring at doorknob. Staring at door. Patches meowing. Shove doorknob against door like an idiot and no it does not go back on.

Fucking

Go down flight of stairs, knock on Molly and David's door. David is luckily home. "My doorknob fell off again can I go home"

David lets me in. I scoot past their dogs and apparently I startled the more nervous one since she apparently tried to nip at me but I didn't even notice because I'm like my cat.

Get in through the back hall.

Patches comes bounding over.

My cat.

Doesn't even know she was a prisoner.

Doesn't even know what a doorknob is.

Later that night receive a text from neighbor apologizing for the dog and I'm like "I Did Not Even Notice."

Any attempt to leave my house now is perilous until I fix the doorknob.

Can't even leave my door cracked open because I know Patches is gonna shove her stupid little face through it and become the opposite of a prisoner.

I wanna go buy a reeces peanut butter cup but by god it's not worth the risk

I'm gonna try to fix the doorknob

Or... buy? a new doorknob?

On Amazon searching "doorknob".

You are completely right because I have now investigated the knob and can confirm the screw holding the knob to bar was loose. I have tightened the screw and it SEEMS fixed but I’m very Fool Me Once on this since my neighbor also thought they’d fixed it.

To swap in the new knob I'd need to cut a new knob-hole an inch higher in the door which

With what tools

That would leave an unused gaping doorknob-sized hole in my door which any robber the size of a weasel or smaller will use to rob my home. I don't need fucking Redwall in my home.

Probably bad for the integrity of the door

I don't wanna.

I think what I really want is just the knob like above tags said. Like the knob and the rectangular bar, which I can substitute in for my stripped-bare knob and rectangle bar. I WOULD do this with the new knob, but it's got two welded-on spokes poking out from the knob.

I can maybe drill two holes for the spokes in my door...?

(Squinting at shitty amazon listings trying to see if any knobs don't have the two spokes)

(I think the two spokes might be standard.)

Developing new respect for Jesus (carpenter).

In the meantime, because I'd already unscrewed a lot of things I DID take the genius action of flipping my current doorknob around.

This way the side that causes problems is on the INSIDE.

Doorknob fall of while INSIDE house significantly better than doorknob fall off while OUTSIDE.

I'm retightening all the screws.

So it does!

Never heard the term "spindle doorknob" before so I never would have found this on my own.

They're also all labeled "vintage" which extra feels right since my door predates the Cambrian Explosion.

Several dozen stories of other people getting locked in/out of bathrooms/basements/classrooms/bedrooms/buildings. Extra shout out to the person whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid4reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesdweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Patches is on my keyboard

whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid succession, to both sides of a classroom door after being saved the first time.

Several people taking this as a sign to go tighten their doorknob screws, including someone whose knob fell off in their hands while doing this

10 or so people reading the "can't have shit in Detroit" meme to mean I live in Detroit. Sorry to confess I'm a fake Detroitite. Doxxing myself by 0.00001% more by informing the world I live in not-Detroit.

Many many people wondering why I'm not pestering my landlord about this. Truth is my landlord is way too sexy, cool, fashionable, smart, pretty, funny, and popular on Tumblr to it's me. It's me. I'm me I'm my landlord. It's my condo. Including, with immense regret, every single doorknob inside.

3 separate professional locksmiths who have reached out offering advice, which is very cool. I have burst into a virtual hardware store clutching my shit doorknob and fainted, only to be caught by three very strong and cool locksmiths rushing to my aid.

ALSO MY PAPER TOWELS

(Ran out of paper towels)

Old knob coming off.

Wretched thing. Accursed knob of woe.

Get undid

New knob reign by forceful coup. Went to great pains to PRECISELY wait Patches is escaping

Patches retrieved

Anyway GREAT care was taken to ensure both knobs are ALIGNED, EVEN, SCREWED ON, with the wait hang on

Patches retrieved again.

Anyway

DOORKNOB SCREWED ON

KNOB

The thing is - Hondo and Obi-Wan weren’t friends. They were platonic nemesis. Amusing opposites in terms of character, morality and generally speaking of the Law.

But they could have been friends. They knew each other through some harrowing self-induced shenanigans. Got to know and perhaps appreciate each other’s sense of humor. Admired each others wily cunning. Had an understanding, I think you would call it.

And Hondo was probably fond of Obi-Wan in the way you are almost compelled to be fond of someone who amicably thwarts your villainous deeds but never quite so well as to actually arrest you for them. That practically makes him an enabler, really, in a pirates point of view.

So this guy, right, this funny, tricky Jedi, it’s sort of a good day whenever you run into him, even if he’s always peskily getting in the way of your grand schemes and quest for riches. Whatever, he’s a damn fine drinking partner regardless!

Those are good times, all told. Good times.

And then one day you find out he’s dead. You find out that he was murdered. That every single one of his people, who, in your experience, are pretty similar under the surface ( they never give you too hard a time, after all. Good sports, and all that) has been murdered.

You liked him. You liked rather more than a few of them, actually.

You’re not sure if the two of you were ever actually friends.

(Surely you were, right?)

(You could have been.)

(There is no one left alive to ask.)

And it’s not - not this huge deal, right? I mean really, you barely knew the guy. Barely knew the funny young knight that was with him, or the spunky little padawan, or those brave and dastardly younglings.

But you just… think about that, sometimes. About them.

And you wonder.

The Law says they were all traitors. The government says they were corrupt. Says they bewitched people. Says they stole children and coveted power.

Hondo Ohnaka is a pirate. He’s never been on the right side of the law, or the government.

(Turns out we were both outlaws, eh?)

(So they say. So they say. I doubt it’s true.)

There is no one left alive to ask for the truth.

Whatever they were then, is whatever Hondo decides they were. There’s no one left alive to correct him.

So they were friends, he decides.

(We were friends, weren’t we? )

He just… would like to be able to have said they were. In the end.

I know for a lot of people that's irrelevant to what they want from an Arranged Marriage plot, but personally I like playing in the weird and uncomfortable implications.

So, I've been thinking about how you would justify an obviously barren marriage in That Kind of fantasy world, and I thought it'd be interesting if gay marriage in Ye Old Fantasy Land was a form of soft disinheritance/abdication.

Like, "Oh, God, I don't want to be in this position of power please just find me a boy to marry", or, "I know you should inherit after you father passes but as your stepmother/legal guardian I think it'd make more sense if my kids got everything, so maybe consider lesbianism?", or "Look, we both know neither of our families has enough money to support that many grandkids, so let's just pair some spares and save both our treasuries the trouble".

Historically, the Church and its widespread monastic structure functioned as a dumping ground for second/third/etc sons and all the daughters one can't afford to marry off adequately, with the military eventually picking up the slack for the former post-Reformation to the point where it's been argued that the need for something to occupy these dispossessed sons played a role in Europe's ongoing conflicts between its nations and the eventual push of imperialism and colonization over the rest of the world.

In a world where homosexuality were more accepted, it would offer a new option: spare a comparatively-small outlay of resources from the main family fortune to equip a house and accoutrements, which would be reabsorbed into the family as a return inheritance in a few decades, and contract a marriage which would be deliberately unable to produce legitimate offspring.

You get the advantages of creating marital ties with another wealthy family, the people married therein have a spouse and the status achievements that go with marriage, and the risk that your child goes off and marries someone unsuitable or inconvenient is removed entirely, as is the risk that they could marry someone and have legitimate, inheritance-claiming children with them. Sure, they can have affairs and thus get children if they're married to a same-sex spouse, but those children cannot be passed off as legitimate issue of the marriage, and so they pose less of a threat to the the main body of the family's wealth.

This Ring quest will have two hobbits. Maximum.

Then they all get to Rivendell and have somehow multiplied into four hobbits. And it's like. Okay. Maybe the others are right.

Maybe this is too many hobbits.

We have as many hobbits as we have not-hobbits.

But damn it, you just don't want to get rid of any of these hobbits. Screw it! Everyone can deal. Four hobbits. This is a four hobbits problem.

So away you go.

And things go bad in the worst possible way.

Over and over.

You've lost your hobbits. You've lost yourself. The fellowship has been separated.

It takes everything in your power to help the humans defend themselves, bringing them together to save Rohan. Finally, as things begin to look upright, you're ready to face the war with everything the Rohirrim have left.

You're ready to face him. This may be the hardest battle you've ever fought. But you ride.

Then you get there and two of your fucking hobbits are sitting there like "Yeah, while you were gone, we raised a tree army and beat Saruman's ass. Wanna help us loot his tower?"

....

There were not, in fact, too many hobbits.

Penis?

Loss?

i mean alright, might as give that a

They get paid a small stipend by the Heroes Council for this, and they live off that.

No crime fighting, no obvious heroics, and they only took a Super Identity because it's technically hero's council policy. Nobody's ever seen them in a cape.

Like, they regularly act like they're getting away with something. They joke about how they get to earn money in their sleep. They show up to their hospital visits in deliberately ridiculous disguises, on the excuse that they need to 'protect their identity'.

But the city was starving, the siege had gone on too long, and the king's troops were still a week's march away. The scorched earth would be fertile again in time, but right now it was barren. Right now there were mouths to feed. So they changed their crossbows for butcher knives and got to work.

None of the royal commanders asked any questions that could not be answered. After all, their aid had come shamefully late. The dragon's horned skull made a noble gift, a fitting tribute from a triumphant city to its humbled king. Who would have thought to question them?

And none of the townsfolk spoke up, when the first golden-eyed babes were born. Children who grew up barefoot and fearless, clambering over the city's patched and rebuilt roofs like they had no notion of falling, with a strange glitter to their skin when the sunlight hit it just so. No one breathed a word about dragons.

Because soon enough there were deft, young hands taking loaves straight out of the oven, heedlessly lifting iron from the forge, plunging into boiling laundry water. And some of them more wondrous still, wild, warm-skinned youths, with inexplicable knowledge and peculiar remedies.