dappered | (no subject)

(no subject)

[ Cortana doesn't sleep. Ever. Which is maybe why she had spent a good majority of her time watching John sleep instead, from her chip on the table next to him. She didn't need sleep, ever, got along just fine without it, and she had never been really sure if that was one of the quirks or the downsides of being inhuman.

At least she doesn't miss much.

Still, this isn't something that should have happened. Whatever it is, whatever it was, Cortana doesn't understand how she could be in one place one second, staring out the hangar of the Forward Unto Dawn, and then -- here, the next. There's no lapse of what she would call consciousness, no falter in her program, she's just there, and then she's not, and for once, Cortana doesn't understand at all.

The sun is stretched high above her, high above the chip from which she's currently standing on, fingers outstretched as if waiting for something. It takes her a moment to look down, to look around, and then finally, to figure out where it is she's at.

Her commands are a little shaky, her various programs slightly off-balance from whatever apparent instantenous journey she had just made, but it doesn't take her long to determine she's not far at all from Valhalla.

Which is. Great. Just what she needed. ]

Chief? . . . John?

[ And, of course, she's met with silence. ]

Scanning and analyzing area --

Retreating back into chip. [ And with that, the holograph disappears back into the data chip, hiding her under the grassy green field. ] Unidentifiable lifeforms. Total, 7, possibly more. Analyzing further. Human. Non-human. Non-human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Closest human lifeform, approximately three-fourths of a mile away.

Damnit.

[ But she had no choice, either way. ]

Releasing distress beacon. Chief, if you can hear me, standby.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She won't have to wait long. Wash switches on his HUD and quickly picks up the energy signature of something hidden in the grass, and he approaches carefully, his rifle trained on it.

What the hell. He kneels down to get a better look at the metal object, and then glances warily at the surrounding area. Doesn't look like a bomb, doesn't scan like a bomb. To all of his sensors there's no one else around, but this could still be a trap. ]

Hello.

[ HOLY FLSKSJFLSJLKFDMKF;

Yeah that would be Wash ~~freaking out~~ very professionally jumping back and training his rifle on her forehead, a beat afterwards recognizing a holographic projection and. Well. That's really not any more reassuring, not to him.

In fact that's even worse.

In fact two seconds after that he's tearing his helmet off in a panic and yanking the radio component out, letting both fall as he retrains the gun on the metal disc (and what good is that gonna do, Wash) and stares at her with slightly wild eyes. ]

Ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Agent Washington, correct -- ? Recovery One?

-- David? You should put the gun down. I didn't come all this way to get into a death match with a man I don't even know.

[ oh that was cute. Did she really think he'd be any more willing to talk things over with an AI instead of a real soldier? ]

[ harsh ]

It's Washington, and if you know that then you already know why I'm not going to comply.

Where's your team? Who else was sent with you?

No one. I arrived here on my own.

Really.

Really. Listen, Washington, I can't fault you for being a little suspicious, but believe me, I have bigger fish to fry. 7 foot fish, in fact. You think they'd be easier to spot . . .

I'm looking for someone.

[ Yeah. ]

I'll just bet you are.

You honestly expect me to believe that you showed up at this particular base coincidentally? That--

[ Well, wait. ]

...how did you get here, anyway.

I don't know.

[ SKEPTIC LOOK ]

I don't. There's nothing else I can tell you.

So you don't know how you got here.

That's correct.

Please, I need to find him. You don't have to help me if you don't trust me, but could you at least tell me if you know where he is?

[ This is starting to sound disturbingly familiar, and it's about 90% impossible that someone from the UNSC would choose to try and capture him with such a crazy tactic anyway. Wash frowns at her, considering for a long moment.

Then, ]

Who is 'he?'

It depends entirely on what you know him by. If you know him, but -- it's important.

Sierra-117. John-117. John.

-- Master Chief, UNSC'S commando of the SPARTAN-II Program. Any of this ringing a bell, Washington?

...

...

...

...

You're Cortana.

Bingo.

[ oh my god oh my god OH MY GOD ]

[ faintlyyyy ]

What are you doing here?

I told you I don't know. Please calm down.

Calm down? Calm down?

You've just signed our death warrants, how in god's name am I--

...

...

[ waaaaaaitaminute. ]

So.

You're here.

And nobody knows that you're here.

[ He puts his rifle up, expression back to neutral. ]

That puts you in a predicament, doesn't it?

Depends on how you look at it, I guess.

Oh I'm looking at it in a very, very specific way.

[ professionally ]

I haven't the faintest idea where the Master Chief is, except not here, which I'm exceptionally thankful for.

You should be thankful, you know. He's done a lot for you, for everyone.