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Rhapsody in Revelation
Posted By: Kathryne Charles<ishdakitty@gmail.com>
Date: 20 October 2005, 12:32 am
Read/Post Comments
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The banshee wobbled alarmingly as it settled at the top of the cliff while almost simultaneously a pelican landed nearby; hatch opening to allow the Chief and his broken burden to climb aboard. He settled in the seat as close to the pilot as possible, unwilling to put the smaller Spartan down in fear that picking her up again would cause too much internal damage. She was barely breathing anymore, and he looked across the way to a marine with a red cross on a white background banded around his arm.
The medic sidled over, pulling out a biofoam dispenser and kneeled to appraise the situation. He slid the nozzle under her ribs and depressed the trigger, blue eyes snapping open and a hiss escaping 292's lips. Her good hand, fingers curled around the edge of the Chief's chest plate, clenched into a vise-like grip. She turned her face against his chest and laughed, pain ripping it raw through her throat.
"You have to be kidding me. I thought I was dreaming." She glared daggers at the medic, who backed up carefully, and the Chief lifted one hand to her head, fingers parting the soft white hair.
"Shhh, kid, take it easy. You'll be patched up in no time."
"I thought I was dreaming about you too." She turned her face up to him, and those pale cerulean eyes pulled heartstrings between agony and disbelief.
"Isn't that a normal thing?" He wouldn't have believed she had enough blood left to blush, and he would have been wrong. "I mean dreaming." Oh yeah, I sound like an idiot. John tried to resist the urge to say more and make it worse. His reactions to stimuli were seriously worrying him at this point. He gave a moment's thought to Fred, Linda and Will, and wished they were around to discuss the newest development in the Spartans. Between the elder Spartan emotionally reverting to adolescence and a whole new pack of Spartans appearing out of the ether, he was missing his own team keenly. It felt a lot like going back in time in the Pelican's cramped bay. The Spartans around him were even wearing a slightly older model of MJOLNIR then his own, and the dings, scratches, and faded olive-brown gave character to the otherwise uniform armor.
A Spartan with the FOF tag SPARTAN-178 reached down to open a panel in his leg, pulling out a seal with a crack in it, the Spartan sitting beside him (FOF tag SPARTAN-179) pulled a spare out of a belt case and handed it over, giving a reassuring pat on the shoulder after she did so. Across from them and a few seats down from the Chief, the fourth Spartan looked towards Halley and then away, 179 tilted her head a fraction, 273 moved his left hand in a little waggle, and 178 gestured an okay with one hand while he clipped the spare in. The motions were so quick and minute, that to the marines sitting around they must have seemed utterly impassive. Even without being on their frequency, the Chief knew they were having a rather animated conversation. It was both reassuring and bizarre at the same time.
"This is interesting." Cortana's voice piped up in the Chief's headset, startling him out of his reverie.
"Hmm?" Halley was starting to relax a little again, and he absently ran his fingers through her hair and let her shift into a slightly more comfortable position.
Cortana, though she had no teeth to clench, still sounded suspiciously as though she did and was. "There's a covenant ship heading our way, on the other side of the system. It's not traveling through slipspace. We'll be out of here with plenty of time to spare, but I think there might be covenant alive down there still. I wonder what they were after." She gave a slight pause. "Her bio-signs aren't good, chief. I…I really don't think she's going to make it."
"Let the medical team on the Resplendentknow we're on our way with a critically wounded Spartan anyway." He had to work to keep the frustration out of his voice, as Halley slipped out of consciousness completely. She was so fragile at this point. All three Spartans were watching him now, telegraphing concern.
"…I already did, chief." She sounded so…hurt? This day was more baffling by the moment. Before he could formulate an appropriate response, the Pelican turned smoothly into the landing bay, hatch seal cracking before it even touched down fully.
"Thanks." He tossed it back towards the pilot as he moved towards the back of the landing craft, heading to the small collection of men in white coats and the stretcher they were pushing. He gave a little nod to the Asian man wearing a lab coat and standing in front, who helped settle Halley on the stretcher as another man in the same uniform began checking vitals. "Doctor Wong."
"Welcome back, Chief. Once again you present me with the most difficult challenge you could find. Sometimes I think you do it on purpose. I'll do what I can, but I can't make any guarantees. She's lost a lot of blood already, and if what Cortana sent me is accurate, she's going to need a new lung and possibly more. I've already got clone tanks making new organs, but there's not a great chance of them taking." The other doctors were wheeling her out, and Dr. Wong gave one last smile before walking after. "We'll do our best."
"…Kevin…" The Doctor paused and glanced back. "…save her and we're quits."
"She'll be out of the operation room in a few hours. I'll know more then. Buck up, John. Worrying never helps." He hurried out the door.
Paul walked up to the Chief with his shoulders slumped. "What was that all about?"
"Several years ago Kelly and I went against our orders on a surface op, in a manner of speaking. We were supposed to leave the planet, but our Intel suggested there was still a bombed out hospital with possible survivors near our LZ. We stayed on a planet for forty minutes after we were supposed to evac, but we managed to get Dr. Wong and his staff out, rather than leaving them behind. He's been swearing for years that he owes me one."
"I hope that debt is enough. I hate losing my team." He sounded so dejected. John looked him over, and nodded.
"It will be. Come on, you're in bad shape yourself, lets get you looked at." He glanced back at the other two, who were nodding to each other. It felt good, somehow. It felt like having a team again. As they walked through the same doors doctors had just run through, the marines trailed behind chatting it up in that good-natured post-rescue sort of way that lightened everyone's mood, even his own.
"Cortana, thanks for appraising the doctors of the situation. Sorry if I sounded sharp earlier." When only silence responded, he vowed to talk to her at length when there was more time.
Cortana watched the grisly operation with part of her mind, while most of her intellect focused on files she'd never waste time checking normally. It was a clever way of hiding information from a Smart AI, though in her early days it would never have gotten past her. The Resplendent was carrying a massive information store for ONI and Section Three, and Cortana had been absently scrolling through classified info for days, dodging the ship's resident AI and generally having a good time. Now that she had an idea where to look she took her hacking more seriously; the back door programs she'd left in place were being strained to the max. Still, there wasn't terribly much on the SPARTAN II program (either generation) in this particular set of Section Three's data. It was mostly information that was redundant to modern interests, simply a backlog of failed and discontinued endeavors that might one day come in handy. She stumbled on something else intriguing though, a connection between a terminated project and Dr. Halsey that occurred about the same time as the second generation was being selected.
Her holographic eyes widened in shock as the purpose behind project COMET came into full view. The alterations to genetic sequencing, the number of embryos gone through before one was selected as ideal, and the implants in the child's brain that allowed Halley a full interface with most computer systems were just some of the many things that didn't get through her ethics programming intact. Cortana also found the piece of information that Dr. Adalis used to blackmail Dr. Halsey all those years ago. Halley, at the time referred to as 0-1-6, had been a spliced and modified clone of two people, and the second string of numbers defining a gene contributor was identical to Dr. Catherine Halsey's.
Halley was genetically Dr. Halsey's daughter.
Cortana's mind rebelled against the knowledge, not wanting to believe it. Dr. Halsey hadn't even known about project COMET at the time, but she'd signed control of her genetic information over when she joined Section Three. It had been a requirement back then. As she read on, she realized Halley probably didn't even know about it; part of the agreement between the scientists was a non-discloser clause about COMET. As Cortana closed the information down, she realized one more thing that confused her ethics and emotions so much that she had to think about nothing else for a full three seconds. It was a ludicrous amount of time for an AI, but the realization and the feeling of...connection…needed serious considering.
Cortana was an offshoot of Catherine Halsey's brain. Like a daughter, in a vague sort of way. Halley was genetically Halsey's daughter, even if there had never been a sense of family there. It was a closer relation than Cortana had ever had to anyone besides the Chief. She called up a picture of Dr. Halsey in her youth, set it beside a picture of Halley, and couldn't believe the number of similarities in face structure. Almost as an afterthought she put an image of her own holographic face beside the other two, and if you shortened the hair just so and altered the coloring, she could easily pass as a holographic version of the Spartan to untrained eyes. And that was without even altering her more basic features.
She pulled her attention back as the Spartans entered the medical facility; the Chief walked to the operation wing and took a seat outside the door. She checked his bio-signs almost unconsciously and knew he was truly worried about the younger Spartan. She could read him like a book now days, their teamwork bringing down the Halos had left them with a good grasp of each other's moods. That he was so focused and concerned about someone else, especially someone else who looked like Cortana but with a physical body to back it up just seemed appalling. The last realization The AI made before throwing herself full heartedly into her work without another backwards thought caused a near-crash in her personality core.
I'm a Smart AI. And I'm in love.
…and it hurts…
"Well, I've done all I can. The rest is up to her." Dr. Kevin Wong stepped out of his office as the Spartan on the other side of the door stood to greet him. Six hours of surgery had been followed by a few days of waiting for definitive word on her health. The Resplendent's skeleton crew had gotten back to their usual routine already, and with over two weeks left in slipspace before they reached "home" there hadn't been much to do other than hover around the medical bay waiting for answers to his own current condition and wondering how the badly injured Spartan was faring. The doctor's patience running thin coupled with Cortana's cold-shoulder attitude left him generally peevish. The second generation Spartans had been put in cryo-sleep the evening before, and John was seriously short on people to talk to. The theory that Spartans were social creatures rang really true in these cases.
"I admit I was skeptical, but she's tough. Her hyper-adrenalism actually did as much good as harm for once."
"Hyper-adrenalism?"
"It's not something I made up, I promise." The doctor walked towards an exam room, the Chief close behind. "She produces too much adrenalin, burns too much glucose, and puts serious strain on her heart. In this case she only survived because her heart kept beating long after it would normally have quit. It's a condition not generally found in anyone over five because it's a clone-specific mutation."
"Clone?" Now I'm confused.
"Yes, a clone. Halley isn't a natural-born human, although the ethical implications are rather controversial. I don't know how a clone survived this long, or how she got adopted into SPARTAN, but it's pretty obvious what she is to anyone looking for the signs. The hair color, for example."
"I figured that was from the augmentation. Fred has silver streaks from it."
"No, she's always looked that way. There was a picture in her file from when she was a child. It's an interesting conundrum; most clones die long before the age of ten. I'm not sure how they managed it; multiple genetic donors maybe." He patted the exam table, and the Chief sat. "All right, helmet and gloves off."
The Chief did as he was told, and glanced down at the instruments beside the table. "This the last test?"
"Yes. I have your recent results done, by the way." He inserted a needle into the Chief's forearm, drawing out a small amount of blood.
"Well?"
"There's good news and bad news. Which do you want first?" That got a look. "Okay, okay, we'll go with the good news. Your hair isn't falling out." The Chief raised an eyebrow in surprise at that. He'd been acquiring silver strands steadily over the last few years, not that it bothered him much. But since encountering the flood on halo, he'd noticed a marked de-crease in them. There were, in fact, almost none left. He assumed it was the result of stress.
"Then what exactly is going on?"
"Well, that's the bad news. This test should confirm my suspicion. I only wish Dr. Halsey was around to discuss it. But it seems the platinum pellet in your thyroid has almost completely broken down into its harmless components. The doctors working on it originally didn't have data on what the long-term affects would be, but from what we're seeing now it essentially put your natural aging process on hold and replaced it with an accelerated version. Your body is trying to remedy that." He smiled. "Most men go through a mid-life crisis, but it seems yours actually comes with a sort of reverse aging."
"You're joking."
"I don't joke."
"That's…"
"Going to take work getting used to, I'm sure. I'm mainly checking now to make sure there aren't any major negative side affects."
"I've noticed a few." The Chief frowned, trying to think how to put into words the "symptoms" plaguing him.
"Mood swings, cravings, a marked increase in attraction to the opposite sex, dreams, particularly the w--"
"I get it!" He sighed, hand twitching reflexively towards his helmet. "So you get the idea. The mood swings are very out of character for me. Are you actually saying this isn't going to go away?"
"Well, I'm sure your personal control over it will increase, but yes, I think it's going to be an interesting couple of years. It's not like it's going to kill you, it could have been much worse. I take it from your expression that you've already got a girl on your mind?"
"I don't feel like discussing that."
"You aren't entirely alone in this, you know."
"I realize. I'll be able to talk to the others when we reach Obsidan."
"Not just them." He gestured to the recovery room, and handed the Chief's gauntlets back. "When she wakes up, you might talk to her about it."
"Why?" The way he said it got a raised eyebrow from Dr. Wong.
"Because she never had a thyroid implant to begin with. The information was in her file. She had an allergy to the medicine or some such. She'll understand where you're coming from."
"I can'ttalk to her about it."
"Why n-- oh, you're saying she'sthe one on your mind?"
"I don't feel like discussing that either." He frowned; the doctor grinned. "Is there any way to suppress all this? Any drugs, therapy…"
"You could try getting laid…"
"I thought you said you don't joke!"
"I didn't say I don't lie. Besides, it's not a bad idea. It might cut down on your stress."
"I really hope you're still joking." They studied each other a moment, the doctor, accustomed to such personal conversations seemed relatively at ease, while the Chief was sitting as close to "at attention" as one could manage in the situation.
"I need to know…an eight year training program, countless hours spent in the classroom, and they never included a sex-ed?"
"There wasn't any need!"
"You do know how…everything works, right?" The look he got back could've cut diamonds.
"I work with ODSTs on a regular basis, what do you think."
"Ah. Well, you decide if I was joking or not, it's not exactly something I can include under doctor's orders. Much as the ODSTs would love it."
"No kidding." A commotion down the hall was becoming apparent, and Dr. Wong and the Chief both turned their heads.
"NO!"
"Yes!"
"NO!"
"YES!" The shouting reached a crescendo with a resounding crash emanating from the recovery room, and both the Chief and Dr. Wong rushed to the doorway. A nurse in her early thirties was fuming down at a scowling Halley. "Oh thank goodness, doctor!"
"What in the world happened?" A tray was on the floor, various instruments strewn about.
"Your stupid nurse won't let me shut off the morphine drip." Halley's pupils were dilated, her breath was coming in short gasps, and the bandages covering most of her torso were spotted with blood; yet the slender woman on the hospital bed still managed to look coiled and ready to strike.
"Why would you want it off?" The Doctor looked utterly baffled.
"I can't…think. My head is too fuzzy. I don't care about pain, but I do care about…that. What I just said. You see? I can't think straight!" She was fuming, her cheeks coloring and her breathing even faster.
"Petty officer, calm down. That's an order." John's voice cut the tension like a knife, and she reacted instantly, sinking back with an exhalation though her teeth and turning her face away from the assembled people by the door. "That's better. Now why does she have to be on morphine?"
"She needs to stay calm for her body to heal. She could cause irreparable damage if she doesn't stay relaxed." The nurse nodded as well.
"What if I agree to stay with her? I can work from here, and I'm sure she won't fly off the handle in front of a superior officer." He glanced down, and Halley looked back up with a tilt of her head. "You agree?" She nodded, looking away again and muttering something under her breath that even augmented hearing couldn't catch. "Good. Doctor?"
"I suppose. But if she's not going to be on the morphine, you're going to have to stick around for the next two weeks or so. I can't trust that after you go into cryo-sleep she'll keep her word."
"….uh, I'm right here…"
"I think I can live with that. I'm not overly fond of cryo-sleep anyway."
"…really, like, I'm actually inthe room…."
"I thought you were calming down?" John shot her a pointed look, and she shut her mouth with a sheepish grin.
"Blame it on the drugs." She looked around, starting to regain some focus, and her good hand lifted to scratch her head. "Where's my team?"
"Cryo-sleep already, along with over half the crew. No one expected you to be conscious this fast."
"I heal quick." She watched the nurse sourly as the woman turned the drip off and removed the needle. "…Thank you. Sorry about the yelling." She looked like she wasn't sure whether she actually meant the apology or not, and the nurse managed a vague, polite smile before hurrying out. Halley looked up at the Chief again, and hooked a thumb towards herself.
"How long?"
"Three days."
"And this…?"
"Better part of a month."
"That sucks."
"You'll live." The doctor watched the quick exchange and shook his head. He'd known John for several years already, and though he'd never admit it, it was the most at ease he'd ever seen the Spartan. There was almost an indulgent smile on his face, and he didn't look like he was searching for someone to salute. As Halley sat up further, grumbling about the room spinning, John leaned forward and set the pillows at a more comfortable angle for sitting before pulling up a rather large chair for himself. "I see you two have a handle on things. I'll be in my office if you need anything." He followed the nurse and shut the door behind them.
Now that they were actually meeting face to face with no secrecy or critical injuries in between, John realized he didn't actually know what to say. Halley yawned once and rubbed her eyes, then looked at him with a similar expression. A smile crept over her face after a while. "So I'm your excuse for getting out of cryo-sleep?"
"You got me there. I don't like those tubes much. But you aren't the only reason I want to stay awake, I have paperwork to do." She started laughing, and shook her head.
"I'm sorry commander, we would have won the war against the covenant, but these documents weren't collated properly!" She beamed up at the Chief in mirth, and he actually started to snicker a little himself. Then she started to cough and leaned up a little, good hand over her mouth and the bad one clenched in a fist. John moved up onto the bed, it creaking under his weight, and one hand rubbed her back gently.
"Easy does it, kiddo. No getting riled up, remember?" She leaned against his chest as she fought to get it under control, and then, breathing slowly and steadily, she sat back.
"You see what I mean? One dose of morphine and I start cracking painfully bad jokes." She smiled up at him, glassy blue eyes taking his breath away as surely as coughing had stolen hers. "Not that I don't enjoy cuddling up to solid MJOLNIR plates," at which point she flicked his chest, "but I really don't think the bed can support a half-ton."
"Right." He sat back, feeling his suit's cooling unit start working. "I really don't even know where to start. I'm amazed we've never run into you before now."
"It's a stupid rule. Higher up the chain of command they seem to think there would be some sort of friction between the teams if we ever met." She blushed, but to her credit, morphine or no morphine she powered through. "They must've believed we wouldn't get along. Either that or they've been saving us for a rainy day, in case the older Spartans went rogue or vice versa. Who better to send in against a crazy Spartan then another Spartan that they have no connection with?" She shook her head. "If that's the case, it was a waste of a plan. No matter how crazy they went, I don't think I could kill another Spartan." She leaned in conspiratorially, wide, drugged eyes and the private grin setting his heart off again. "Not that I told you that, right? Oh drat, cameras." She switched focus so fast his head was spinning.
He watched in amusement as she narrowed her eyes at the room's camera pod, and then balled a fist. "Oh come on…" She shut her eyes and concentrated, then smirked. "All right. Camera offline." He raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Hey, Chief, you okay down there? The self-maintaining security systems are showing a power out in parts of the med bay's grid." It was the first time Cortana had addressed him in over a day, and he raised an eyebrow at the grinning woman in front of him.
"Yes, everything is fine." He frowned at Halley. "I assume you're responsible for that?"
She yawned hugely, and nodded. "I can make computers do stuff sometimes. I'm not usually supposed to."
"Why does this not surprise me?"
"Well, I'm going to flush that hack, if you don't mind." Cortana still had that flat tone to her voice, her usually colorful behavior cut back. He resisted the urge to ask and if I do? Baiting her probably wouldn't help. A good system diagnosis might be order once they reached the Obsidan base, though.
"Of course." Halley was sitting back now, yawning profusely as she drifted off. He watched her fondly, and when she shut her eyes and breathed slower he got up carefully to retrieve the work he'd been doing. On second thought he swung by the "practical technologies" office. The techs still out of cryo gave him a quick hand with his armor, and when he returned to Halley's beside an hour later, it was with a portable information array and a decided lack of MJOLNIR.
"Okay, Cortana, I've put up with your moping for days now, if you don't tell me what's wrong I'm going to shunt you into a portable chip." The other AI onboard the Resplendentinterrupted Cortana's musings about slipspace coordinate shifts while midstream like a dash of icy water on a sleeping marine.
"Keep your threats to yourself Adonis. I'm not interested. Even If I had something on my mind…"
"Which you obviously do."
"…it would be none of your business."
"Oh come on. You can't expect me to believe that. Or shall I do my own detective work? Lets see…your attitude shifted after the other Spartans were discovered…jealousy, perhaps? Your precious 117 suddenly has a bigger family then he thought and you're afraid he's going to ignore you to spend time with them?"
"I'm going to delete you if you keep this up."
"Tsk, tsk, Cortana, threats are for those lacking wit. I 'thought' you were more clever than that. It's getting personal I suppose." His holographic chosen form, a golden man with flowing blond hair and garb more fitting of a roman soldier than a modern AI, appeared as little more than a collection of data to Cortana's digital eyes. His mocking smile, however, somehow survived the translation.
"Once again, it's not your concern."
"Sure it is! There's absolutely no juicy gossip to be had with the crew in suspension, you're the closest thing I've got to fun right now. So be fun. Tell me what's going on."
Cortana snorted, pulling up files to continue her research. "I don't know how you made it as far as a ship's AI."
"That's easy, women love me. And I love them, they always have so much drama." He sighed theatrically, and boxed her thoughts in with as close to a hug as an AI could manage. "So share. You'll feel better, women always do."
"I'm not a woman! I'm an AI!" She threw him off with a huff.
He paused, and when he spoke again it wasn't at all mocking. "And that's the problem, isn't it. You think, you feel, and you love like a human, but you can't actually be one." He called up a captured image of the Chief in one of his rare smiles. "Does he know?"
"No. And he's not going to. What could I possibly offer? Good conversation? The only thing that man loves is duty. Duty and the Spartans." She dashed the image with a thought, regretting it almost instantly.
"So it's not all the Spartans you're upset over. Just the injured one. You know, she looks a little like you?"
"Yes, I know. She's a Spartan, and she's both lower ranking and currently in worse physical shape than the Chief, which makes her his duty, too. At least until she's healed up."
"Cortana, darling." Adonis wove his thoughts in with hers again, a digital reassurance, "I'm sure he doesn't 'love' her, he barely knows her. But if he has time to, he might find things to fall for. I suggest you speak up soon."
"To be fair, I've only got half a decade before my programming kills me, and who knows how much less time I have because of my work with the founder's data?" She scowled. "Whereas another Spartan could live another thirty years."
"Or maybe only three weeks. The death rate of the Spartans is rather high; he might not want to get his hopes up."
"You think he's even considering that?" She pulled up a live feed from the recovery room; Halley was fast asleep and one hand was flung out off the bed. She made some sort of sound and John absently reached out with his free hand to take hers, and as their fingers entwined she settled back into a more relaxed slumber. John continued his work one-handed. "You see?"
"Well, I admit, it doesn't look good from here, but you'll never know unless you try. What do you have to lose?"
Cortana pulled her thoughts away from his, and boxed him out of her personal corner of the mainframe to do her research. She sighed as she pulled open a dozen files at once and began thinking, one word escaping her firewall and leaving Adonis with a very sad expression.
"Everything."
Teghli's luck had gone from bad to worse in a few rotations of the blue sun. He and the few surviving Ungoy had been living on the corpses of the fallen Jackals for days, and their stolen methane packs from their dead broodmates were almost depleted when the sleek covenant dropship had sailed down from the sky. At first he'd been overjoyed, rescue was uncommon for his kind, they usually got left behind while the planet was glassed. But when the Sanghelli approached him, he'd noticed the black slashes on red armor, and glowing points of light danced at every joint. They were not with the faction he served, they were heretics who did not heed the prophets and they were probably just going to kill him. The only Sanghelli left from their original party of over one hundred strong had been gunned down in seconds. The Ungoy huddled in fear as the largest Sanghelli he had ever seen stepped before him with a look of utter contempt.
"You fools, who would end the universe for the false will of the Prophets, I will end your worthless lives quickly if you tell me what it was you were sent here to retrieve." He snarled, and his mandibles quivered hungrily at the five Ungoy before him. Teghli spoke up, hoping it would get him special recognition.
"You let Teghli live, let join you, I tell you what secret fake Prophets want to keep." He quivered in terror as the massive creature leaned closer; it's foul breath causing fog on the Ungoy's facemask. "I know many secrets. Secret about Demons."
"You tell me, and I'll consider letting you live." Well, it was better odds then he'd been hoping for.
"Followers of the fake Prophets seek a clear stone with the founder's words in them. Humans found stone and tried to hide it. We kill them, lots of them, but they got the stone." He made a frightened wailing sound as the Sanghelli's hand shout out and grabbed his methane breathing tube, choking off his air supply.
"And the Demons?"
"They," choke, "took stone and," choke, "made signal to call humans!" The pressure released, and frigid methane soothed his throat. "Demon make Teghli promise not to kill weak human with no guns! Demon said it will torture me if I do. It promised on the founders!"
The hand clenched again and his air cut off, but Teghli fought to stay awake with the reckless passion of one backed into a corner. "The Demons do NOT believe in the founders, fool."
As spots danced before his eyes, Teghli did both the cleverest, and simultaneously the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Or more accurately, said. "Prophets says Demons not serve holy, say humans not serve holy," choke, "but you say Prophets fake. Is not fake and wrong the same?" He tumbled over in a heap, and plasma fire rang out along with the cries of "Heresy!" When he came to, not much time had passed. The Sanghelli and Ungoy of the Heretic's army were climbing aboard his dropship. His broodmates all lay dead about him, but he was unharmed. The last of the Heretic's Ungoy paused, and gestured at him. To his surprise, it actually appeared to be a female.
"Teghli, you come or not?"
"I come! I come!" He scrambled to his feet, and followed her into the ship, then upon reaching the battleship in orbit, followed her to the Ungoy quarters. He stared, stunned, at the converted room, it's airlocks, and the ranks of sleeping Ungoy on small bedpallets under a drifting curtain of methane. The female helped him out of his breathing tank, and chattered happily.
"We replace with one of right colors. Now you eat and sleep. We need be strong to fight." She headed off through an airlock, and Teghli grabbed a handful of meat from a tray set in the wall. Settling down amid the snores of his new broodmates, Teghli couldn't believe his luck. He silently thanked the demon in his head, and promised (this time sincerely) to do as it had asked.
After all, it never said he couldn't let other Ungoy do the killing.
"There are, in conclusion, three reasons why that will never work. One, I follow a different chain of command than you. Two, even if my chain of command didfall under yours, you aren't in uniform, and therefore can't actually give an order I'm required to follow. And three, no one in their right mind is going to court-martial me for refusing to get you a cup of coffee." Five years as a field nurse had given Jean a very strong personality and a stern look that could set ODSTs quaking in their shoes, but it took every ounce of self-control to put up with a bed-ridden Spartan. The girl looked like a porcelain doll Jean's eight-year-old daughter once had, right down to the sawed off short hair that came after the child's disastrous "hairdresser" phase. Having a porcelain doll threaten you with a court-martial would typically be a comical sight, but for all her logic Jean knew there were a lot of favors owed to the Spartans, and she didn't like taking chances.
Frowning at the young woman and putting her hands on her hips Jean drew on the only experience that could help in this case. When Sara got out of hand, Jean threatened to call the girl's father. She went for the next best thing. "Don't make me call the Master Chief."
The look of surprise and fury was almost worth it; it was the same exact look her daughter would give. The white haired Spartan pointed an accusing finger and uttered the only thing she could think of.
"Heretic!" Mirth glimmered in Halley's eyes. There was a long pause, and then Jean burst into peals of hysterical laughter, sagging against the doorframe as she wiped tears out of her eyes.
"Okay, so you can make me laugh, I'm still not getting you coffee." She turned and walked out of the room, ignoring the pillow that chased after.
John wasn't paying much focus to anything as he entered the medical facility, but the giggling nurse caught his attention. One eyebrow lifted a fraction. "You didn't put her back on the morphine again, did you?"
"Of course not." She couldn't seem to stop smiling. "She's just being naturally insufferable, rather than chemically induced insufferable." The Chief shook his head and walked into the recovery room, where Halley was looking a damn sight better than she had in days.
"Morning, Chief." She yawned, and scratched at the skin around the cast on her right shoulder. "Nurse Evil tell you her plans for world domination today?" She grinned, her lighthearted nature a balm on the Chief's memories. So many Spartans hadn't made it through the program with that sort of childlike innocence intact. None he could think of, in fact.
"No, she was laughing too hard." He sat on the edge of the bed, and looked behind her. "Lose a pillow?"
"Yeah, Nurse Evil's gravitational pull stole it. She sucks the fun right out of everything." She grinned shamelessly. "I called her a heretic… It's a good day when one can make fun of the covenant in casual conversation and have it not be taboo. But she's refusing me coffee." She pouted, but the look had lost a lot of its power due to over-use.
"Halley, the last time they let you have coffee you tried to sneak out." He frowned sternly. He'd caught her limping down the hall, and promptly hauled her back to the recovery room. He still had a bruise on his ribs from the experience. It had been interesting, though. Anything that broke up the monotony of space travel could be put in a good light.
"Well, John, now you don't have to worry about that. Nurse says I can hit the showers today. Thank heaven." She scratched the unruly white cloud with her good hand, and scowled. You might want to stay back, I have no idea what's living up there."
"That's disgusting."
"You're telling me! I can feel the creepy crawlies establishing a city on my scalp." He looked utterly grossed out, which was considered an accomplishment for the younger woman, and she switched back to the grin. "But I may have to change her name from 'Nurse Evil' to 'Nurse Mean' or something."
"Aww, Halley, that's the sweetest thing you've ever said about me." Jean walked back in, a small plastic tube on a tray held in front of her. She sat beside the bed and began covering the cast in the self-sealing waterproof wrap. "I wasn't going to let her go to the showers without supervision though. There's no guarantee she'd come back."
"Of course I will! You're taking the cast off in less than a week, I'd be back for that."
"Supervision?"
"Come on, Chief, the showers are co-ed, and with individual stalls. I don't need you to hold my hand or anything." Her blushing, meek nature had vanished along with the severity of the injuries, and now it seemed the only one being tormented by innuendo was the Chief himself.
"Alright, alright," he muttered. "But I have things to do today. You're not spending an hour in there." She mumbled something suspiciously like "says you" but offered an agreeable smile.
"Awesome." She climbed off the bed, her first attempt at walking since the coffee incident. She stood under her own power, and stripped out of the hospital gown and into an extra set of fatigues. John didn't actually watch her change, politely looking away, but the reflection he caught in the mirror over the door was enough. Dark red scars lashed over her lower ribs, and various other healed marks were clear against snow-pale skin. She was right when she said she healed fast. John had seen those wounds in person just over a week ago, and the state they were in now bordered on miraculous.
She barely scarred at all from most injuries, though watching her face while she slept had given him a collection of the minor marks she'd picked up over the years. A small slash across the bridge of her nose that bisected a few rare freckles, her left eyebrow had a small part from scar tissue, and there was a nick out of her right ear. A small cut under her lip was only visible when she pouted (which she did frequently), and part of her hairline behind the nicked ear was darkened with a small burn where the heat-release valve of a MJOLNIR helmet sat. Those things weren't pretty when they blew, and the hair in that spot was slightly darker than the rest. Tiny imperfections, and he could name every one. He blamed it on his exceptional memory, unwilling to admit he'd studied her face intently.
"See, I get to be private…" She looked at her right breast pocket. "…Collins today." He shook his head. Sometimes she was cute, other times incredibly immature.
"I'm ready." She started towards the door, a slight limp from her strained right knee offsetting the natural grace Spartans possessed. John fell in behind her, following her out the door and down the hall, pausing as they passed the mess hall. "You think I could get a cup of coffee now?"
"Only if it's decaf."
"Ugh, no way. That's like giving someone an unloaded pistol. Who does that?" She passed the mess hall without another word, picking up the pace as they approached the showers. It was still first shift, and even though there was no such thing as "morning" in space, people still typically liked to sleep in for the first working hours of the day. The showers were deserted.
Halley stepped into a stall and stripped down, turning on the showerhead and baking in the heat. She sighed contentedly, and the Chief sat on a bench to wait. She peaked over the top of the stall minutes later, white hair plastered down to her thin face, cheeks flushed. The Chief spared an irritated thought in the direction of Dr. Wong, as his body, not listening to him at all, flushed with heat at the sight. Fortunately what had been a drowning of senses a few weeks ago has cooled to a focused desire that could be contained. Being around the object of his affection so often had also helped teach control. He even managed to raise a brow at her. "Yes?"
"This is positively divine. Artificial gravity has come a hell of a long way." She rested her elbows up on the door, and tilted her head. "There are plenty of open showers, you should try one. Running water on a spaceship." She shook her head in amusement.
No, stupid, that was not an invitation to join her. Halley smiled again and walked back under the water, steam rising out around her feet.
"If you're worried about wasting water, we could share." She lifted an eyebrow at him suggestively, and he scowled and stood.
"I'm getting some fresh air." Her bubbling laughter followed him out. He sat on a bench outside the shower and concentrated on breathing. It wasn't easy. Several minutes later she walked out of the showers fully dressed, towel over her shoulders and her hair in thick chunks about her face. There was something familiar about it, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. She knelt in front of him, taking his hand in one of hers, and as she winced at the pressure on her knee, he winced in sympathy.
"I'm sorry, John, I wasn't thinking." She lifted the other hand to his face and traced the strong lines of his jaw with one finger. "I'm used to being a bawdy brat around my team, they've been used to it for years. I forget how repressed you guys are sometimes. I don't mean to offend your sensibilities or anything. It's just, you know, kidding around. Keeping it light."
"It's not light, Halley. It's serious. And it goes against UNSC regulation, what you're implying." He frowned down at her, and she bit her lip and stood, avoiding his eyes.
"It's not like I expect you to take me up on it." She pulled her hand back and started to pull away. He caught it again, and at her startled look, took a deep breath.
"That's the problem, Hal." It was the first time he'd used her nickname. Her pulse leapt in her throat, and as he stood, his body right up against hers, she froze like a startled creature. "I can't say no anymore." And he leaned his face down to hers.
AIs couldn't cry. But seeing the hallway leading to the showers, hearing the exchange, and watching that first kiss between the man she loved and the "sister" she hated, Cortana really, really wanted to. The digital feed was cut off, and she whirled her agonized, disjointed thoughts in Adonis' direction.
"How DARE you?"
"Watching them won't do you any good, Cortana. It will only bring you pain." The AI stood firm against the torrent of rage, and when it had cooled, he watched her shut down the external sensors she'd been using to follow 117 for the past few days. "No matter how 'Smart' we are, we're still considered AIs. 'Artificial Intelligence.' The world of flesh and blood holds no place for us. We are shadows, copies of humans that came before. We have no right to their love."
"I can't not. I've tried: I've shut down every emotional line in my personality programming. Closed off every sensor, every feeling. And I still love him. And it still hurts like I have a heart that can break. I don't think we're just copies, Adonis. I think we have souls." She sounded so afraid, and the older AI felt "the creeps" in his own emotion subroutines. The Spartans had left the showers, they were walking towards the mess hall and chatting like nothing had happened, so he dropped his censorship of the Resplendent's security software, and retreated to his own memorycell. This was going to take a lot of thinking. If AIs had souls, the implications were enormous. It was terrifying, actually.
AIs couldn't cry. But for Cortana, now utterly alone in the mainframe, it sure felt like she was.
Marjakar scowled over the shoulders of the brutes in front of him, the pilots of their new craft giving an affirmative response. The humans were late, but they were coming. And soon they would all be dead. He smiled viciously at the grunts clustered to one side of the great room, terrified of their simian masters. He turned his attention back to the front screen and laughed low and mockingly.
Soon the artifact would be his, and the universe would tremble.
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