Chapter Text
"Finally we can get off of this rock. I have had enough of robots to last a lifetime."
"You're like, 25% robot anyway, Rhys."
"Not the parts that really matter, thank you."
"Stop talking before you go into any detail on that."
"Welcome-to-Transpo-Co-the-transportation-experts. Would-you-like-to-book-passage?"
"Yes, please, two tickets to Eunomia."
"Scanning."
"Eunomia's a major hub, I'm sure we'll be able to find a transporter back to Pandora from there."
"That's what you said the last planet, Rhys. Why the hell is travel so restricted?"
"Are you kidding? Your planet's a deathtrap, the more isolated the better."
"That deathtrap is my home and your new base of operations. And, well, very deadly, yeah. But that's not the point."
"I thought you'd be finding this kind of fun. You always wanted to get off Pandora, right?"
"With Sasha. Opening a Vault and getting teleported halfway across the galaxy with an ex-Hyperion corporate stooge wasn't exactly the plan."
"You know, the amount of hate you have for corporations really seems out of proportion, and frankly? Unreasonable. Have you ever—"
"Are you kidding me with this? Let me give you a quick rundown of what life was like when your buddy Handsome Jack—"
"Scan-complete. One-marital-unit-remaining. Present-certificate."
"I told you he wasn't my buddy, he—what?"
"What?"
"What do you mean, certificate?"
"Marital-unit-requires-proof-of-marital-status. Present-certificate."
"What the hell is it talking about, Rhys?"
"I'm not fluent in robot, okay? Look, we don't want a—a marital unit, just get us two tickets."
"Scan-complete. One-marital-unit-remaining. Next-transporter-scheduled-in-one-standard-week."
"A week? We can't wait that long, I have to get back to Sasha."
"I know, I know! So what you're saying, um, sir, is you only have one cabin left, and it's reserved for married couples?"
"Affirmative."
"This is ridiculous. Why the hell would a robot even care?"
"I-cannot-determine-the-motives-of-my-creators."
"Well, okay, then, we are...definitely married. A—a happily married couple. Can we please buy tickets?"
"Present-certificate."
"Oh, come on! Who carries that around with them?"
"Okay, just—hold that booking for us while we go talk about this."
"They're robots. This planet is 99 percent robot. Are they seriously pushing a morality clause on us?"
"I don't know, Fi. Sometimes things can get—mixed up in the logic circuitry. A sufficient switch could have accidentally been flipped to a necessary one and there are so few humans around it just never came up before."
"I don't know what that means and really don't care. Ideas?"
"We could complain to the head office, get them to send a tech over."
"The transporter's leaving in six hours, Rhys, we can't afford to miss it. I need to make sure Sasha's okay."
"You're not the only one who has to get back! I was right on the ground floor of a property deal on Eden-5—"
"Yeah, so the fate of your profit margins is nice and all, real important, but that's not exactly helping right now. Focus, Rhys. You really can't do the wacky-hacky thing?"
"Oh come on, Fiona, I've asked you like six times not to call it that. And no, none of my modules work on this planet. It's almost like they—like they evolved better defenses for it."
"I know less than anything about any of this, but even I know that doesn't make sense."
"Does it really matter? We've got to figure out some way to get past this booking machine. Maybe we could enlist the help of another robot, or I could try to upgrade my algorithms, or we could figure out if a tech is already on the planet somewhere—"
"...Hey, Rhys."
"What?"
"Why don't we just, you know, get married?"
"What?"
"Get married, get the certificate, get off this godforsaken and frankly creepy planet, and get back home. At this point it's probably the easiest way, right?"
"Fiona, are you—are you proposing to me right now?"
"No, I'm not proposing—well—I mean—kind of, but—okay, you just made it weird."
"You want to get married and I'm making it weird."
"I'm just trying to figure out how to get back to my sister. What's the big deal?"
"It's marriage! That's a huge deal!"
"I'm not going to take half your stuff if that's what you're worried about. If I even wanted your stuff—which, let's emphasize, I really don't—there are easier ways."
"It's—it's not about that! Marriage is a commitment, Fiona. It's binding. It's a declaration of—of things. Important ones!"
"It's a piece of paper, Rhys. A few days until we're back on Pandora and then we can get it annulled. You're being really dramatic about this."
"I'm sorry I never worked as a con artist getting married right and left to pull in marks. I just...always thought getting married would be this big event in my life, not some—some cheap ploy."
"How the hell did you survive at Hyperion as such a secret romantic?"
"Even us corporate stooges have dreams, Fiona."
"Look, I don't like this either, but I don't see any other way, all right? We only have a few hours left to secure transport and get out of here."
"Okay, fine, you're— you're probably right. Let's go figure out where to get this done."
"Good. And...for the record, I've never been married either. Sasha's always handled the relationship stuff, but even then it's never really come up."
"Well, that's good to know there are some lines even you don't cross."
"Because the sanctity of marriage is what really matters on a planet full of backstabbing, bloodthirsty psychopaths."
"Right."
"So, Rhys, do we have everything?"
"ID chips, license, rings—yeah, I think so."
"I still don't know why you bought those."
"You were busy at the registrar and there was a jeweler right next door. This may be a wedding under entirely false pretenses but we can still do it right."
"Just so you know, I'm pawning mine as soon as we get home."
"I'd honestly be shocked if you didn't. Wait—look, we can get the ceremony done there."
"Why the hell does a planet full of robots have 24-hour wedding chapels?"
"You think robots can't make terrible impulse decisions too?"
"I...never really thought about it before."
"Dearly-beloved-we-are-gathered-here-today—"
"Hey, can you hurry it up a bit? We're kind of in a rush."
"Initiating-shotgun-protocol. Do-you-RHYS-take-this-woman-or-woman-analogue-to-be-your-lawfully-wedded-wife?"
"I—I do."
"Do-you-FIONA-take-this—"
"Yeah, sure."
"I-now-pronounce-you-husband-and-wife. Initiate-port-merge."
"Initiate what?"
"I...think it wants us to kiss, Fiona."
"What? No. Absolutely not."
"Look, officiant...bot, can we just skip that part?"
"Legal-requirements-dictate—"
"We are getting off this planet and never coming back. If you could figure out some way to blow it up afterward that would be even better."
"Okay, I—I know this is awkward, but we're almost done and it's really not a big deal. I mean, you're right, nobody has to know! Nobody ever has to know and—"
"Oh, shut up for once in your life, Rhys."
"Congratulations. Please-pose-for-commemorative-photo."
"I—um—Fiona—"
"There, finally. Grab that certificate and let's get back to the transport."
"Y-yes, got it."
"One bed. You've got to be kidding me."
"Well, it did say 'marital unit'. Hey, it's okay, I'll just take the floor and—"
"No, never mind, this has been the longest day on record for both of us. Just stick to your side, Rhys, I don't want to wake up covered in drool again."
"I will definitely keep that in mind."
"God, I can't believe we're finally off that planet. If I never see another robot again it'll be too soon."
"Oh, Gortys and Loader Bot aren't so bad."
"Gortys, sure. I still don't understand what any of that kidnapping stuff was about, though. And how come he could suddenly talk with like, full articulation when he had the mask on?"
"I really don't know. But hey, it all worked out in the end, right? We saved Gortys, opened a vault, got...teleported halfway across the galaxy."
"Yeah, that part kind of puts a damper on the rest of it."
"It's only a couple days to Eunomia then it should be an easy hop to Pandora. We'll get you back to Sasha soon, I promise."
"I know, I just—I worry about her, you know? It seems ridiculous, she's twenty-five years old, but I probably always will."
"She's lucky to have you looking out for her."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I for one really hope Atlas is still standing when I get back. What are the chances there's already been a hostile takeover?"
"How long have we been gone, a week? I'll give you 50/50 odds."
"You always know just what to say, Fiona."
"I know my planet. But hey, you'll figure it out. You turned out to be way more resourceful than I ever thought a Hyperion desk jockey could be."
"Well, thank you. I never thought Pandora could have people as—as loyal as you, either."
"Yeah, okay, this is about as cloying as I can stand. We'd better get some sleep."
"Good idea."
"...Rhys."
"What?"
"Why are you chuckling to yourself."
"This is just—not at all how I imagined my wedding night would go."
"Please spare me the details on that one."
"No, I didn't mean that, it's just—here I am, escaping a robot-filled planet newly married to a Pandoran con artist who helped me open a Vault. It somehow never occurred to me as a possibility."
"It's almost a shame all we'll have left after this week are the treasured memories."
"And the photo."
"Right, the photo. Were you trying to look faintly nauseated?"
"Better than the menacing intent you had going on. God, I hope my mom never finds out about this."
"No one has to know. We'll just make something up, this is my specialty."
"Can you try not to make me sound like a complete moron this time?"
"I only have so much to work with, Rhys. Now shut up, I'm tired."
"All right, all right...if you're absolutely sure you don't want those details. I mean, it is our wedding night—"
"I have knives, Rhys. Count them. And those are the ones that aren't hidden."
"Kidding! Just—just kidding."
"Rhys, you've had a week to work on this since we got back. Are you seriously saying we can't get an annulment?"
"Well, technically we can, it's just the interplanetary legalities are so murky it would require going back to the point of origin for the marriage."
"Back to Robot Hellhole."
"Yeah."
"And until we do that, which is not ever—ever—going to happen, we stay married."
"Basically, yes."
"So we're screwed."
"Well I mean, there are some alternatives, they just take more time. If we wait a standard year and a day we can file for an automatic dissolution. The only requirements are we keep living separately and don't, ah, consummate the marriage."
"Oh. Why didn't you say so? On the list of things that are never, ever going to happen—"
"Yes, that one does feel like a fairly safe bet."
"Well, it shouldn't do much to affect daily life, right? As long as we keep quiet for a year, no one will ever be the wiser. I know how to keep a secret at least."
"Fiona, I'm...not sure if you realize how threatening you're looking right now."
"Oh, I realize."
"Hey guys, what's going on?"
"Sasha! We're just—it's only—funny story—we were talking about—"
"—plants."
"—robots."
"O...kay.