#Fugitive Telemetry

[theninthmember]

tmd has a lot of good lines, but “penis move, right?” always, ALWAYS catches me off guard

[tell-me-your-vision]

@sanctuaryrin tumblr is making it hard for me to add your tags for some reason because so I have to add them like this because this?

THIS is gold 😂 you get it

Discovers horrendous bloody crimescene.

Gurathin: Was someone ill there?

(SecUnit: wAs sOMeOnE iLl THeRE?)

(Note to self: tell someone to tell Gurathin his vision augments need adjusting)

[bakedbananners]

[g1ngan1nja]

There are some excellent posts going around about from everyone else's pov, in every book, Murderbot functions almost literally as a Deus Ex Machina. And I think that fits this one as well lol

I think Fugitive Telemetry is pretty funny from Indah's perspective. There's a murder on the station. You alert your government leader, and they bring their bodyguard/corporate-spy-and-murder-construct with them to the scene of the crime. Turns out it's also Sherlock Holmes. It alternates talking like it's in a TV show, and making various ominous statements, including things like "if I killed them, you'd never find the bodies." It refuses to elaborate on that one. Well that's comforting. It does go on to show that it couldn't have done the murder. But did it just confess to murder? Why did it just confess to murder? It goes on to save your officers lives (wait, did it just hack the system it promised not to hack? Eh, we'll let it slide this time.) and then mount a solo rescue mission (extremely successful, except for being shot by the people it's saving), and still hasn't killed anyone. So far. It already forgot that someone got murdered and that you were actually trying to solve a crime. Anyway, once you give it full access to your security system, it solves the crime within an hour or so. Turns out it was your coworker of 43 years. Who was actually a corporate-spy-and-murder-robot this whole time.

[themirokai]

She meant Pin-Lee because she said "terrifying." Being the top Preservation expert in dealing with contract law in the Corporation Rim apparently made Pin-Lee like the CombatUnit version of a lawyer.

As if I needed another reason to love Pin-Lee.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 1

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Murderbot Diaries series (All Systems Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol, Exit Strategy, Network Effect, Fugitive Telemetry, System Collapse, and other stories) by Martha Wells

Endorsement from submitter: "Asexual and agender main character. In later books side characters are revealed to be in poly relationship."

"As a heartless killing machine, I was a complete failure."

In a corporate-dominated space-faring future, planetary missions must be approved and supplied by the Company. For their own safety, exploratory teams are accompanied by Company-supplied security androids. But in a society where contracts are awarded to the lowest bidder, safety isn’t a primary concern.

On a distant planet, a team of scientists is conducting surface tests, shadowed by their Company-supplied ‘droid--a self-aware SecUnit that has hacked its own governor module and refers to itself (though never out loud) as “Murderbot.” Scornful of humans, Murderbot wants is to be left alone long enough to figure out who it is, but when a neighboring mission goes dark, it's up to the scientists and Murderbot to get to the truth.

Science fiction, novella, series, adult

Hunger Pangs series (True Love Bites) by Joy Demorra

In a world of dwindling hope, love has never mattered more...

Captain Nathan J. Northland had no idea what to expect when he returned home to Lorehaven injured from war, but it certainly wasn't to find himself posted on an island full of vampires. An island whose local vampire dandy lord causes Nathan to feel strange things he'd never felt before. Particularly about fangs.

When Vlad Blutstein agreed to hire Nathan as Captain of the Eyrie Guard, he hadn't been sure what to expect either, but it certainly hadn't been to fall in love with a disabled werewolf. However Vlad has fallen and fallen hard, and that's the problem.

Torn by their allegiances--to family, to duty, and the age-old enmity between vampires and werewolves--the pair find themselves in a difficult situation: to love where the heart wants or to follow where expectation demands.

The situation is complicated further when a mysterious and beguiling figure known only as Lady Ursula crashes into their lives, bringing with her dark omens of death, doom, and destruction in her wake.

And a desperate plea for help neither of them can ignore.

Thrown together in uncertain times and struggling to find their place amidst the rising human empire, the unlikely trio must decide how to face the coming darkness: united as one or divided and alone. One thing is for certain, none of them will ever be the same.

Fantasy, romance, paranormal, series, adult

[acmonblue]

This scene is one of my favorites because the contrast is so sharp. Fugitive telemetry has some of the best MB snark. It's dissing Station Security, it's questioning Indah, it's making jokes during a murder investigation. It feels safe enough to be an asshole and a SecUnit, safe enough to piss people off without worrying that they will hurt it. By the end of the book even Indah and Aylen get it - being a little shit is how it says I trust you.

After this scene, it drops all of that. We get one-word answers and need-to-know information. And it throws itself directly into one of those shoot-until-our-parts-give-out bot fights. It goes back to operating like a company SecUnit because that's how they treated it.

I just listened to the best scene in fugitive telemetry again and god it's still so fucked. Murderbot is SO happy and proud of itself. It's talking SO much about its feelings like that it's happy a thing worked or scared something is going to break but it's. Talking. Fast. And a lot. And it gets SO happy when it talks about this being a SecUnit plan. Kevin r free delivers it as a revelation, a tentative pride. It gets into the cargo hold and it talks the humans down and gets the six youngest into the bag and safely on the way to the station, it manages to do some INSANELY risky shit to keep the thing from killing them all- at one point one of the humans is so convinced that it's over that they say "thanks for trying, station security." It's not wearing a suit or anything! It will die with them but it came anyway and they KNOW this! They know that it was willing to die to keep them from being fucking jettisoned into space! Their captors TRIED to jettison them. They hit the button. The only reason they didn't die right then is that mb stopped them. It then jammed open the hatch and when a guy in armour so fancy the humans mistook it for a SecUnit comes down with a big gun MB drags them in and physically disables them. Then it climbs into the hatch and physically jams it open, it holds a gun out and stops all the hostiles and it has now. Saved everyone. Every single human survived, INCLUDING the hostiles. It's crazy, dangerous, difficult plan worked completely and for once, it doesn't have a single thing to say about how shitty it's plan was or how much it failed or how much better it could have done. It tells the humans to stay here while it makes sure it's safe to leave and--

And then it just feels something hit it in the back, and identifies specifically that it was to a location that would be fatal to a human. It turns around and sees the leader of the humans, the one it has been primarily speaking to all this time. She's picked up the gun the guy that had fallen in had been holding, and not only did she shoot it in the back, she shot to kill. Murderbot doesnt say a word. It just grabs the gun and then climbs up the hatch and leaves. The narration stops being the minute to minute descriptions- "I opened the hatch, I jumped in, I saw the humans" and turns to just. "And then I left." And that's it. It just leaves and has nothing more to say about it. Not even when Indah says she doesn't really know why they shot it. It just moves on and returns to complaining how shit it is at its job as it goes to confront ballin.

She shoots it, in the back, to kill, the SECOND it's done saving them. Murderbot just looks at her. It has nothing to say. It takes the gun. And it leaves. I am FUCKING insane about this oh my god

[ghostcashewart]

a day in dr. mensah's office! featuring an earlier design concept for murderbot that i've since updated a little bit lol

[art-drone]

There's a cool moment in Fugitive Telemetry where Murderbot has a realization. (Spoilers...) It likes its plan to rescue the refugees secretly because it's not a "CombatUnit plan" (it's "a 100 percent less murderery"). But more importantly it's a "SecUnit plan ... The point was to retrieve the clients alive and fuck everything else." It's a plan that SecUnits were actually designed for, "despite how the company and every other corporate used us."

This is one of the few times that Murderbot actually refers to itself as a SecUnit positively. It's not SecUnits are terrifying killing machines and "fucking dangerous," it's hey I was designed to do something important. Murderbot, for a moment, forgets all the internalized stigma, the trauma and the self-loathing. It realizes that being a SecUnit is a good thing.

Of course that makes things more tragic when (more spoilers...) the plan goes to shit and Murderbot gets shot by the very people it's trying to save. Because the perception that SecUnits are terrifying killing machines is real. A real perception that Murderbot has long shared. But that it could dispel that perception - at least to itself - for a moment is heartening.

[maz737]

Fugitive Telemetry doodles

[moss-sprouts]

"all i wanted to do was watch media and not exist" same, murderbot, same

[fascinatedfinch]

JollyBaby for Murderbot September Day 1!

I can be your angle

Or yuor devil….

[dxrlingluv]

What if like, Telemachus x reader

Where the reader is a poet or an artist, always complimenting Telemachus for his looks (or just anything about him in general)

Telemachus thought it was normal considering their job, but he overheard a conversation of reader and someone, and that "someone" suddenly blurted out

"wait...do you have a crush on prince Telemachus?" Which reader suddenly lost their "cool guy vibes" and started stuttering while face flush red

The Muse and The Prince

A/N : Thank you so much to my 200 followers ^_^ I didn’t expect to go this far at all. I am happy and I appreciate every single one of you! Telemachus art is from Gigi.

WARNING : GN!Reader, fluff

Word Count : 1.4k

The air in the palace halls often hummed with the murmur of courtly life, the clatter of servants, and sometimes, the resonant strumming of a lyre. For Telemachus, son of Odysseus, it was the familiar soundtrack to his days, a constant backdrop to the duties and uncertainties that shadowed his youth. Lately, however, a new melody had woven itself into this familiar tune, one composed of admiration and rendered in words or strokes of breathtaking artistry.

You, a poet or artist who had found a place within the Ithacan court, possessed a unique gift: the ability to capture the essence of things, to translate the mundane into the magnificent. And you seemed to find Telemachus a particularly compelling subject.

"Prince Telemachus," you might say, your voice alight with genuine appreciation as he stood framed by a sun-drenched window, "the way the light catches the bronze of your cuirass... it's like molten gold, a warrior forged in the heart of a star."

Or perhaps, if your art was the spoken word, you'd share a newly crafted verse:

*"Like the sturdy oak against the tempest's roar,*

*So stands Telemachus, strength to the very core.*

*His gaze, the distant sea on a cloudless day,*

*Holding depths untold in its steady sway."*

Telemachus, earnest and somewhat reserved, had initially been taken aback by these pronouncements. He was accustomed to respect, to deference due to his lineage, but this... this was different. It wasn't about his title or his future kingship; it was about him. His bearing, his gaze, the very way he stood.

He'd grown to expect it, though. It had become a pleasant, if slightly baffling, constant in his days. He reasoned that it was simply your way, the lens through which you viewed the world. Artists and poets, he mused, often saw things others missed, finding beauty and inspiration in the most unexpected places. Your compliments, though frequent and effusive, seemed to stem from a genuine appreciation, a professional admiration for a worthy subject. He accepted them with a polite nod and a quiet "Thank you," never quite knowing how else to respond.

One bustling afternoon, as you sat sketching in the outer courtyard, your charcoal dancing across the parchment with swift, sure strokes, you were engaged in conversation with one of the palace attendants, Elara. Telemachus happened to be passing by, his mind preoccupied with the latest rumors from the harbor, when a snippet of your exchange snagged his attention.

"...the way his brow furrows when he's deep in thought," you were saying, your voice softer now, almost wistful, "it speaks of such responsibility, such a weight carried with quiet dignity. And his smile, Elara, when it truly breaks through... it's like the sun after a long storm."

Elara chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye. "You certainly have a way with words, Y/N. You make the young prince sound like a god carved in marble."

You laughed, a light, airy sound. "Oh, he's no cold marble. There's a fire in him, a quiet strength that I try to capture in my work."

Then, Elara's tone shifted, becoming teasing. "Or perhaps it's not just his 'work' you're trying to capture, Y/N?" She paused, and then, with a sudden, mischievous grin, blurted out, "Wait... do you have a crush on Prince Telemachus?"

Time seemed to stutter. Telemachus, who had been about to continue on his way, froze behind a nearby pillar, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. He held his breath, every nerve ending on high alert.

He saw your reaction without being seen. Your easy laughter died in your throat. Your posture, usually so relaxed and confident, stiffened. A blush, starting faintly at your neck, crept up your cheeks, painting them a delightful shade of crimson. You stammered, your usual eloquence deserting you.

"I- I... well- he...- he is... a very... uh...- a very... respectable prince," you managed, your gaze fixed on the unfinished sketch in your lap. Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the parchment. The "cool guy vibes" Telemachus had subconsciously associated with your artistic confidence had completely evaporated, replaced by a palpable fluster.

Elara, ever the observant one, raised a knowing eyebrow, a silent "aha!" hanging in the air between you.

Telemachus felt a strange mix of emotions churning within him. Surprise, certainly. A flicker of something akin to... pride? And beneath it all, a burgeoning curiosity. He had always seen your admiration as purely professional, a detached appreciation for a subject worthy of your artistic eye. The possibility that it might be something more... it was a revelation.

He retreated silently, his mind racing. He replayed your compliments in his head, the way your eyes lingered on him when you spoke, the subtle nuances he had previously overlooked. Had he been so caught up in his own concerns, the weight of his father's absence and the suitors' insolence, that he had completely missed this?

The next few days were... different. Telemachus found himself more aware of your presence in the palace. He noticed the way you would subtly shift your gaze when he entered a room, the slight hesitation in your voice when you addressed him. He also found himself paying closer attention to your work, seeing not just the skill in your craft, but the emotion, the feeling that seemed to infuse it when he was the subject.

One evening, he found you alone in the palace gardens, the setting sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. You were sketching in a small notebook, the soft glow illuminating your focused expression. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to intrude, but a sudden impulse propelled him forward.

"The moon is beautiful tonight," he said, his voice a little rougher than usual.

You startled, your head snapping up. Your cheeks flushed again, though this time, the color seemed softer, tinged with surprise rather than embarrassment. "Oh, Prince Telemachus. I- I didn't see you there."

He stepped closer, his gaze drawn to the open page of your notebook. It was a sketch of the gardens at twilight, the familiar flora rendered with a delicate beauty.

"Your work is... remarkable," he said, the words feeling inadequate yet genuine.

You looked down at the notebook, a small, shy smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, my lord."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the chirping of crickets. Telemachus found himself wanting to say more, to understand the way you saw him, the way you translated him into art and poetry.

"You... you often speak of my appearance, my... bearing," he began, feeling a little awkward. "I confess, I had thought it was merely the eye of an artist finding a subject."

You finally met his gaze, your eyes holding a depth that surprised him. "It is that, my lord. But... it is also more. You possess a strength, a quiet determination, that I find... inspiring. You carry the weight of your responsibilities with such grace, even in the face of such adversity." Your voice was soft, earnest. "And yes," you added, your gaze flickered downwards for a fleeting moment before returning to his, a hint of that earlier blush returning, "you are also... aesthetically pleasing."

A small smile touched Telemachus's lips. He found himself strangely disarmed by your honesty. "I- I appreciate your candor, Y/N."

Another silence fell, this one charged with a different kind of energy. Telemachus felt a pull, an unfamiliar curiosity drawing him closer. He had always been focused on duty, on the practicalities of his situation. But in your gaze, in your art, he saw a reflection of himself he hadn't fully recognized, a depth and a strength that went beyond his title.

"Your art... it makes me see things differently," he admitted, his voice quiet. "The palace, the people... even myself."

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with a warmth that made his chest feel strangely tight. "That is the power of art, my lord. To reveal the beauty that is already there."

He took a step closer, the scent of the evening blossoms mingling with the faint fragrance of charcoal that clung to your clothes. "Perhaps... perhaps you could show me more."

The air crackled with unspoken possibilities. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, mirroring the blush that now bloomed freely on your cheeks. In the quiet of the twilight garden, a new kind of melody began to unfold, one woven with the threads of admiration, vulnerability, and the unexpected stirring of something more profound.

The muse and the prince, finally seeing each other in a new light.

[spyrograph]

Murderbot isn’t autism-coded. Murderbot is autism-hardwired.

[bearmakesart]

Alt versions + Timelapse + explanation below

Click for quality 🙏

This is murderbot at Preservation Station! Theres a very simple Preservation logo on the shirt and jacket and the background is inspired by the illustration for Home:...

[little-cute-pink-horrible-being]

Is... Is Bharadwaj scheduling therapy sessions for Murderbot? In the guise of reasearching information for her project? She is refered to as "doctor", did we ever see what kind of a doctor she is? Oh, damn, she wants to set up regular sessions. Oh, yeah.