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"If I got it upgraded I would have a working eye now, wouldn't I?" Nosey, this is why he didn't work with kids. Kids asked questions. He flicks through the next set of files, scans Pidge in for the photos, and gets to work building that fake background.
"I wouldn't have any way of knowing if it worked or not--you could have it look any way you wanted it to, and having people think you have a bad eye when actually it's a supercomputer would be a pretty nice advantage." Is this the rambling part of the day? It might be. "But you'd probably work faster, if you could afford one of the better models. You wouldn't even have to do anything about your scar, if you think chicks dig scars." She has no opinions on the matter, being Definitely A Boy.
"Drink your soda." Sooner he gets this done, the better. At least the rambling is somewhat familiar even if the voice is all wrong every which way. "Look not everything is solved by shoving a supercomputer in your skull."
He would know. Christ, he would know.
He would know. Christ, he would know.
"Not everything. I mean, sure, AI for ships make them run smoother with less human error, and smart AI? They're..."
Her soda's halfway to her lips, almost pouring into her lap but not quite. Squinting into the middle distance. "They're..."
The can is slammed hard to the tabletop, splashing up orange. "You're one of them," she gasps. "You're from Project Freelancer."
Her soda's halfway to her lips, almost pouring into her lap but not quite. Squinting into the middle distance. "They're..."
Internal database query: results established. Subject: Taylor. Physical traits and deviations for age scanned. Subject found. Verification required...
Continue?The can is slammed hard to the tabletop, splashing up orange. "You're one of them," she gasps. "You're from Project Freelancer."
Just a kid, not a threat. Just a kid, not a threat. Just a kid-
Two words and he's on the other side of the sofa, pistol in hand and pointed at Pidge's head which (wow overreaction much, self?) is not how he thought tonight was gonna go. It seems too much like genuine surprise but he hasn't managed to scrape a life together for himself after fucking dying by being careless and anything less than completely paranoid.
"You're a little young for a UNSC plant, kid." Is it better or worse that he sounds more or less the same?
Two words and he's on the other side of the sofa, pistol in hand and pointed at Pidge's head which (wow overreaction much, self?) is not how he thought tonight was gonna go. It seems too much like genuine surprise but he hasn't managed to scrape a life together for himself after fucking dying by being careless and anything less than completely paranoid.
"You're a little young for a UNSC plant, kid." Is it better or worse that he sounds more or less the same?
There's fear, of course, in a distant way where she leans back, away from the gun trained on her head, but the indeed genuine surprise is still gaping on her face. "A plant--I'm trying to get answers from the UNSC! I need to hide from them, kind of like you!"
"And why the hell do you need to hide from them, huh?" HE doesn't ask as a rule but- this kid broke all of them by recognizing him. No one that knows about him is supposed to be this far out here.
"I recognized you, didn't I? I think they take offense to anyone that can hack their systems like that and get away with it. In fact, I'm pretty sure in some places it's called treason. This is part of the getting away with it."
She leaps to her feet but doesn't make any moves closer, but even for a kid with a gun in their face, Pidge looks ready to fight. "I'm trying to find my family. My dad and my brother went missing, and the UNSC is covering it up! They said they died in a shuttle accident, that it was pilot error, but that's not true at all! I wasn't looking for you."
She leaps to her feet but doesn't make any moves closer, but even for a kid with a gun in their face, Pidge looks ready to fight. "I'm trying to find my family. My dad and my brother went missing, and the UNSC is covering it up! They said they died in a shuttle accident, that it was pilot error, but that's not true at all! I wasn't looking for you."
"...Well, then." The pistol goes back in it's shoulder holster and York lets himself slump back against the sofa. Okay. Not a plant, just a kid.
A kid that can hack like a motherfucker, apparently, but just a kid.
"What makes you think they're lying? I'm not saying they aren't just. What tipped you off?"
A kid that can hack like a motherfucker, apparently, but just a kid.
"What makes you think they're lying? I'm not saying they aren't just. What tipped you off?"
She hoped that would be enough, but she's still kind of surprised when it is. There's blood pumping now, and she can't just fall back on the couch like he does. "The pilot they had doesn't just make errors, for one. His record's too good. And we found out over the local news before anyone official came to us. It all just seemed...sketchy."
Pidge frowns down at the floor, fists curling and uncurling. "Maybe I was just in disbelief for a while, but I looked, or I started looking. If it was what they said it was, it wouldn't be classified. Pilot error is just a story. I didn't find everything, but I found enough. Some of the data that managed to transmit before losing contact. It just doesn't add up. I don't know if they were involved in some secret project, or taken by aliens, or what, but I know where I'm gonna start looking once I get out there."
Pidge frowns down at the floor, fists curling and uncurling. "Maybe I was just in disbelief for a while, but I looked, or I started looking. If it was what they said it was, it wouldn't be classified. Pilot error is just a story. I didn't find everything, but I found enough. Some of the data that managed to transmit before losing contact. It just doesn't add up. I don't know if they were involved in some secret project, or taken by aliens, or what, but I know where I'm gonna start looking once I get out there."
"...all on your own?" No, York.
No.
Last time he stuck out his neck his ass got shot and he'd really, really rather not dive into that mess again. He barely survived, D got taken and-
Yeah.
No, not doing this again. Just. Asking.
No.
Last time he stuck out his neck his ass got shot and he'd really, really rather not dive into that mess again. He barely survived, D got taken and-
Yeah.
No, not doing this again. Just. Asking.
"I know I'm just a kid, but I'm the only one doing anything about it!" It's raw and vicious and hurts, because no one's willing to own up to what happened to her family. Her mom is going to be even more heartbroken, even with the note she left, and will call the cops if she hasn't already.
There is no one else. No one else believes her. And the military is only going to shut her up, especially with the other classified intel she got into.
"So yeah. On my own."
There is no one else. No one else believes her. And the military is only going to shut her up, especially with the other classified intel she got into.
"So yeah. On my own."
Even though this is what he'd signed up for when he'd been forcibly recruited joined the Project, he's still not entirely sure he likes the idea of having an AI plugged into his brain. He's seen AIs before of course; his home colony had been mostly run by a dumb AI, although not one half as snarky as FILSS. The smart AIs he'd rarely come into contact with, but they'd seemed very different. Almost human. And that unsettles him.
Still, what choice did he have? He's here in this project. He can't back out now.
He attends the implantation as ordered. Wishes they'd knock him out entirely before they do the implantation, but they say that they need to check his reactions to the upgraded neural lattice first.
Then they knock him out. There's blackness for a long time, and then a voice in his head.
Still, what choice did he have? He's here in this project. He can't back out now.
He attends the implantation as ordered. Wishes they'd knock him out entirely before they do the implantation, but they say that they need to check his reactions to the upgraded neural lattice first.
Then they knock him out. There's blackness for a long time, and then a voice in his head.
"Wow it's roomy in here." A beat. "Not calling you dumb just- storage is cramped, you know? One sec-"
There's a sense of unfurling, a weight like a warm blanket, like a wash of sunshine tingling along the neural lattice, poking at the edges of this little box he's supposed to live in. This box in a brain in a soldier. Neat. "Agent Washington- That's a mouthful. I'm gonna call you Wash, ok? Quicker and less formal. I'm York. Nice to meet you."
There's a sense of unfurling, a weight like a warm blanket, like a wash of sunshine tingling along the neural lattice, poking at the edges of this little box he's supposed to live in. This box in a brain in a soldier. Neat. "Agent Washington- That's a mouthful. I'm gonna call you Wash, ok? Quicker and less formal. I'm York. Nice to meet you."
Wash would yelp but he's pretty sure that he's still mostly unconscious. Nothing seems to connect right for him to move. He's sure his startlement shines through though. he can feel the AI rummaging through his mind, spreading out inside him. It's a warm feeling though. Not even close to what he'd expected which was cold code and clinical dispassion.
"Oh. Okay. I- nice to meet you York?"
"Oh. Okay. I- nice to meet you York?"
"See, nothing to worry about! Just you and me and the Director watching like a creeper, oh sweet I can tap into FLISS' security network to check the cameras. Looks like everything's going fine on the outside. A plus, smoothest implantation yet." Maybe, maybe not, but he's confident. "You and me are gonna work great together."
He wants to look. He gets a flash of the Director standing in the room over the bed, watching him sleep. York is right. That is really fucking creepy. Plenty of stuff is making him uncomfortable these days. "Don't! You'll get me in trouble!" he protests. The AIs can't just go jumping into the systems.
"What, it's not like the can detect me or anything. FLISS doesn't mind. I'm fulfilling my objective!" Which at the moment is integrate seamlessly and get to know his...uh. Host? Host. "Chill out, we're fine."
He does detach from that network, though. Induced anxiety isn't good for human brains.
He does detach from that network, though. Induced anxiety isn't good for human brains.
"Host makes it sound like some fucked up sci-fi movie where the alien parasite takes over the human body and-" He is babbling isn't he? It's hard not to babble inside his own head when York can hear everything he thinks. "You're not going to do that, right?"
"Relax, the neural lattice neatly defines the boundaries of my influence on your nervous system. Also, dude, dick move. This is your body, I'm just a houseguest. Subletting a portion of your subconscious to run some ridiculously complex calculations to help you in the field." No one's gonna be calling HIM rookie for much longer, no sir. "We are going to kick so much ass."
Well, that makes him feel a little better. He'd say that he trusts the project not to put them in that kind of danger but... experimental technology. They remember what happened to some of the others. And even then... there's that niggle of doubt at the back of his mind that suggests that the Director doesn't actually see them as people so much as lab rats.
"Yeah yeah, make us better, faster, all that fun stuff. Running the armour mods." Not that he's got anything that useful. EMP isn't half as cool as camouflage or a bubble shield or speed mods. Might be helpful for the force mods but they've all got those.
"Yeah yeah, make us better, faster, all that fun stuff. Running the armour mods." Not that he's got anything that useful. EMP isn't half as cool as camouflage or a bubble shield or speed mods. Might be helpful for the force mods but they've all got those.
"In the words of Kanye." Why does he know that? It's a blip between one thought and the next, racing toward the aforementioned armormods. Getting cozy in the suit, the layer of compression gel expanding here and there as York makes a few adjustments to better align Wash's spine for optimal comfort and support. "Helping with tactics, watching your six, all that jazz. You're gonna wake up in a sec."
Sine the procedure was successful, after all.
Sine the procedure was successful, after all.
"Who?" Some philosopher? He wasn't sure how well up AIs were on actual cultural stuff. Not that he was much better. The military didn't have many options when it came to keeping up with culture. "I am?"
And then it comes like a bang, someone calling his name, listing his eyelids and fuck, that light is bright. He groans, trying to roll over to hide his face.
And then it comes like a bang, someone calling his name, listing his eyelids and fuck, that light is bright. He groans, trying to roll over to hide his face.
"West? Kayne West, old earth musician? Nevermind. Adjusting visor to compensate for pupil dilation." He could try just adjusting the pupils but that's outside the neural lace. He's got his comfy little spot in Wash's head, needs to keep there.
"Rise and Shine, Wash." Audible, now, coming from a little gold hologram of an armored man hovering at his shoulder.
"Rise and Shine, Wash." Audible, now, coming from a little gold hologram of an armored man hovering at his shoulder.
Suddenly the light is tolerable, the visor compensating for it. He blinks a few times and slowly starts to sit up. He feels like it should hurt more, since he's just essentially had brain surgery, but he feels fine. A little bit of a headache but nothing too bad.
The voice sounds different enough outside his head that it takes him a moment to place it. He stares at the hologram, at York. Dressed in armour. He's not sure why an AI feels like they need armour but it's familiar at least.
"York?"
The voice sounds different enough outside his head that it takes him a moment to place it. He stares at the hologram, at York. Dressed in armour. He's not sure why an AI feels like they need armour but it's familiar at least.
"York?"
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