liesdontfindyou | Open Post

Agent Texas rarely goes to the locker room. Well, even that's an exaggeration. She never goes to the locker room. But for some reason today she decides to pop in, and notices that she has a locker with her name on it. There's the usual hustle and bustle of people marching in and out, on their way to work out or whatever they plan to do. But Texas approaches the locker and opens in, wondering why she's never had occasion to do so before. Doesn't she just change in her room, and go there right after workouts? She's unsure. Weird, how someone could just not remember details of their daily life like that.

She finds nothing inside but a disc drive disguised as a dog tag. She notices it's a disc drive right away because it's too thick to be a normal dog tag.

That night, after AI class is over, she slips into the room and uses one of the terminals to play the files enclosed in the drive. What she sees confuses her at first. The more she views, however, the more she understands. There's just one bit that doesn't make sense—Connie saying she's probably gone. Maybe it's because their latest mission has been delayed. She doesn't know. But she knows who she needs to talk to about it.

It's late at night according to the ship's clock. Texas knocks on the door to Connie's quarters and waits for a response.

Despite the time, Connie had never fallen asleep. The knock on the door triggers an automatic fight or flight response that she barely suppresses, forcing herself not to hold her breath but to breathe steady and evenly.

Across the room, her roommate shifts in her sleep and the fabric of the sheets rustle beneath a groan, but she doesn't awaken.

Careful not to make a sound, Connie stands from her bed and moves towards the door. There's no whistling and she hadn't been in the Invention's systems that night, which settles her frayed nerves somewhat, but despite that, she hesitates to open it. Surely, the Director's attack dogs wouldn't knock, right?

Finally, she opens the door and its both a surprise and a relief when she sees who's there.

"Texas?"

"I think we need to talk," Tex replies simply. The dog tags she'd found are nestled in her storage pocket, but she'll whip it out if necessary to prove that there is definitely something important to be discussed here.

Connie bites her lower lip and steps out from the room, letting the door shut behind her. Feeling a little bit small out of her armour, she automatically squares her shoulders and raises her head.

"Not here. South's asleep. I know a place if you don't."

"Go ahead," Texas says, nodding forward. It's important this remain confidential, she knows, and she figures Connie already knows what this is about.

She doesn't speak until they reach the place where Connie is going, and once they're there, Texas crosses her arms, contemplating how to begin.

"So it's obvious you didn't expect to be here right now."

"No, no I didn't." Connie shifts on her feet, compulsively picking at an old scar that stretches across her palm. "I didn't intend to leave, exactly, but... I knew there was a good chance I wouldn't be coming back. Then, we were delayed at the last minute and..."

She gestures vaguely.

"Here I am, and here you are. I didn't think you'd find them so soon."

Part of her wants some commiseration. She just realized she's never had a meal, never lifted on the weight bench , never even taken off her helmet. Somehow, the Director had programmed her not to question these things—until this had come up.

But admitting these things would make her feel too vulnerable, and it's not even really the point.

"So what do we do about it?" she asks. That's the point. How will they bring the Director to justice? If that's even what they decide to do.

"Well, the original plan was to go to the UNSC, but... the more I learn about my contact the less I'm sure he has as many connections as he claims he does," CT says, shifting again.

Said contact will be getting antsy, thanks to the delay. She can only hope he doesn't do anything rash in her absence.

"Not to mention, in the original plan, I... didn't have any allies here." There's something unspoken, there, an unwitting openness. Connie has been alone for a very long time and there's almost a novelty to talking so openly.

"That's the important part," Tex says. "And you do have one now."

Connie has seemed to need that reassurance.

Texas supposes that means they need to figure out if they're on the same page.

"My priority is rescuing Alpha before anything else."

Not that she doesn't want justice for the Director, because she does, at least in a measure, but the fact that the AI is being tortured is weighing heavily on her.

That comes as no surprise. Connie nods knowingly and in agreement. Though some (her contact) may have seen the torture of a living, but artificial, mind as incidental to the protocol violations, she'd never been able to shake the sense of obligation she held towards the Alpha and the other AI, too.

It's why the dog tags were placed there in the first place, after all. Not just because she believed she could trust Texas, a belief now proved true, but because Texas deserved to know the truth.

"They only recently split off another fragment. North is due to receive it— him after the assault on the scrapyard finally goes ahead. Alpha is..." She pauses to consider her words. "I don't know what state we might find him in, whenever that may be."

If Tex could look pained, she would right now. She angles her head, thinking.

"We need to figure out how we're leaving. That's the first thing to have in mind. Once we've accomplished everything we're trying to do, we need to be able to get out. Or to bail if things go wrong."

"I don't suppose you know how to fly a ship?" Connie asks. At the start of the sentence, she's only half-serious, by the end, she's tilting towards 'dead serious'. "My only way out before was through my contact. I was meant to meet him on a scrap ship and leave with him. One of the few things I couldn't plan for was bailing early, I didn't have the means."

No allies, no flight experience, meant no emergency exit.

"I do," Tex says. " I don't know why..."

Contemplating that is a futile notion. She shakes her head slightly.

"Anyway, point is I can do it. Do you trust anyone else here?"

Connie sucks in a sharp, audible breath. The question is a little like a loaded gun, or a blade against the throat of a part of her she loathes to face.

"I don't know," she says, the words spat out like she wants them away from her as soon as possible. "The honest answer is... I don't know. I thought I did, when I started this, and I want to," god, she wants to, "but... there's a reason why it took until I thought I was leaving to even 'tell' you."

"Who is it?" Tex asks quietly. Connie obviously has someone in mind. That's the important thing here, to begin with. To figure out if the person she suspected she could trust was actually trustworthy.

Connie folds her arms and pins her hand against her chest so she can't scratch that scar.

"There was a time when I thought that Washington might be someone I could trust," she says, after a moment's silence. "Only, he never listened, so I gave up trying, but..." She hesitates for another second. "He almost caught me, once. He never turned me in."

"Washington?"

Tex doesn't really know anyone here that well, but Washington never struck her as someone who would be all that forthright in a situation like this. He's too idealistic.

"That's something, but..." She shakes her head. "I don't have a good feeling about it."

"Like I said, there's a reason why I only ended up telling someone when I was meant to be gone," Connie sighs, drags a hand over her face. "He used to question things like I did, but the second it turned serious he started making excuses. He wants this place to be what we were told it was. Obviously, it isn't."

She paces a little in place, restless energy brewing.

"There's people I wish I could trust but... loyalties are tricky to decipher. I didn't even know where yours lay. I was never one hundred percent sure that you wouldn't side with the Director." Then, holding her hands up, "Not as any judgement on you! The fact was I just... didn't know you. I couldn't be sure."

"I've barely spoken to anyone," she says. "I just see how people act in the training room, and that's only if our sessions overlap."

She restlessly uncrosses her arms and then crosses them in the other direction.

"What if it just ends up being the two of us?" she says. "It might mean rescuing Alpha and taking him for evidence to whoever."

She doesn't relish that prospect. In her mind Alpha deserves to rest after what they've put him through.

Connie opens her mouth, then closes it. It's hard to admit that she isn't sure how well she knows the others either, anymore.

"I'm not sure if I trust the UNSC with you or Alpha," she admits, instead. "Alpha has been through a lot and you are... unique, and ONI are ONI. There was a time I planned to stick around long enough for Command to actually give me the fragment assigned to me, as evidence, but with my position on the board..."

She shrugs slightly. It's been a long few months of plans being made but falling through. The fatigue is written into every line of her stance.

"It's one shot, then," she mutters. They either rescue Alpha and leave it at that, or they try to bring the Project down themselves in one feel swoop. What would an act like that consist of? Tex thinks for a moment.

"Then we take him," she says. "The Director. Take him back to the land-based HQ and hold him there."

"That... could work," Connie says, tapping a foot against the floor. "We're a long way from HQ, we couldn't make it in a Pelican, but we should be due to make another stop over there... then it'd be possible."

Her contact wouldn't like any of this, she knows that much. It's more time on the ship, it takes them away from him, but her trust in his intentions and ability to follow through on his promises is failing. After so long unable to do anything, there's an appeal to taking direct action.

"All right," she says, already trying to think through some of the possibilities. "We'll have to start keeping an eye out for opportunities to connect with trustworthy agents. Otherwise we'll just put plans together as if it'll just be the two of us."

"Be wary of Florida and Wyoming," Connie says, with a note of urgency. "I may not know which agents are trustworthy, but I know that they are definitely not. There's been... close calls."

She starts compulsively picking at her scar again.

"My contact will still be expecting me if this mission goes ahead. If I go to meet him, I don't know that I can get back, but if I don't, I don't know what he'll do."

Tex reaches forward and stills Connie's hand. That little nervous habit is making her nervous.

"I can't promise you everything will be okay," she says, "but believe me, you're in a better situation now that I'm on board."

Open Post

After Connie places the dogtags but before she defects

Re: After Connie places the dogtags but before she defects

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