This is much more nerve-wracking than talking to Texas has been.
Connie's on edge as they make their way away from the locker room to Wash's bunk and though she makes idle, meaningless conversation to disguise the tension for the benefit of the others they pass in the hallways, she's silent in every other way that matters.
Only when they make it inside the room and the door is closed does she even feel like she's breathing again.
"I know what I said back then was angry and I know it sounded crazy, but... I swear to you, it's more than that."
Wash crosses to sit on his bunk, ready to listen to whatever she has to say. Really listen, because if it isn't just accusations... they'll have to do something about it, right?
Connie considers sitting beside him, but there's too much restless energy in her so she settles for standing in front of him.
She's never had to explain this aloud before.
"When I said the board was a filtering process, at the time, I genuinely didn't know what for. Now, it's probably obvious, to you as well as me, that it's about the AI but... it's more than that. And the AI are more than just... copies, Wash."
Where does she start? What will get his attention, what's the easiest to prove?
"The Triplets, you remember them? I found out a few days before that mission that they didn't drop out of the program. They were abandoned on a planet to die, because they weren't up to par with the rest of us. And I can prove that, and everything else I say, I have—"
She fumbles, pulling out a fresh set of false dog tags from under her shirt.
"I have all of the information on here," she says, showing him the drive.
"It's complicated," she says. "There's protections built into it, it disguises itself, but if I duck to my bunk and bring the laptop I've been using, I can show you now. No terminals needed."
She should have thought to grab it first, really, but her mind is being pulled in so many directions.
"Thank you," she says, lifting the dog tags from around her neck and pressing them into his hand, leaving them there.
After squeezing that hand, she quickly darts out of the room.
Her bunk isn't far, at least, and she knows South isn't there at this time of day. Hiding it under her shirt, she returns within a few minutes and drops onto the bed beside Wash as she pulls it back out.
Connie leaves the dog tags with Wash and he takes that as another measure of trust... but she's back fast. He's taken his shoes off and is sitting cross-legged on his bed, the dog tags hidden in a closed hand just in case she wasn't the next one to open the door. But she is.
He offers them back, peering at her laptop. "How long have you had that on the ship?"
"Strictly speaking, it's not mine, it's... borrowed. I came into this place with the intention of mostly following the rules, so I didn't bring one with me when I first came."
She boots it up and plugs in the drive. After entering a password, a file directory opens up: AI Experimentation, Mission Logs, Personnel Files, Financials, Video Surveillance. She's been very thorough.
Wash tilts his head curiously at that but doesn't get to ask before she's booting the laptop up and logging into the drive, which has...
"This is everything. How did you--?" No, it doesn't matter, he probably wouldn't understand anyway. What matters more is what's on them. "What am I looking at?"
It could all just be normal, after all. Nothing there is titled differently than he'd expect the Project's records to be.
"You have no idea how little I've slept the past few months," she says by way of answering the first unfinished question, though it's not exactly a finished answer either. "What you're looking at is basically every single file from the Project I could get access to, let's start with..."
She navigates to the mission logs and pulls up a single file, a Level 0 clearance log of a mission attributed to the Triplets.
Only, the Triplets had never been on a mission.
The file starts off looking like a standard log of a mission, but quickly becomes a detailed report of exactly what Connie had said: the Triplets were abandoned. Within an hour of their boots hitting the ground, the Mother of Invention left the system where they had been deployed and even before that, they had cut off all communications to the Triplets.
"See?" she says. "They didn't drop out. They were disposed of."
Wash drags a hand down his face, not wanting to believe what he's reading. He'd wanted so badly to believe in the Project. That it cared about its agents in some way, even knowing they were being tested, experiments in some ways, that it was for the greater good, but he can't justify this. It's worse than executing them, just leaving them to die. He's heard the rumors of things the UNSC has done that were probably actually truth, horrible things... but somehow didn't think it would or could happen to him.
He was a fool, obviously, and the proof of that is staring him in the face now.
Connie looks at him as he reads, watching the realisation settle in. She rests a commiserating hand on his shoulder. It wasn't easy for her when she first found out, either. She'd felt sick to her stomach.
"The worst of it is, this... wouldn't have been enough to report it to anyone. With the nature of the Project, the UNSC would never have shut it down over this," she says, a mix of rage and sadness in her voice. "If I hadn't found everything else I've found, I wouldn't have felt I could take this anywhere."
She sighs.
"I have a contact, but... okay, this will sound crazier than anything I've said so far, but Tex and I have something resembling a plan."
She gives his shoulder another squeeze, then turns her focus back to the laptop.
"Okay, so I said that the AI weren't copies, right?"
She navigates back to the AI experimentation folder and opens it up to show that she's gathered files on every AI currently in circulation—Omega through Theta—as well as several that have yet to be created or distributed and two others: Alpha and Beta.
"You know how in class, they call them fragments? Turns out that's the more accurate term. The AI... they're pieces of another AI, not copies.
He's not arguing, just stating what they've been told all along... but Connie's right, in class they call them fragments. Wash just never stopped to think about what that meant in terms of a human mind. He reads what's on the screen, until it gets to Alpha and how they're using that AI to--
"...this is illegal," he says, shocked. Not just experimental but straight up immoral and illegal, it's a war crime on par with the Spartan-II program rumors as far as he's concerned. "They can't get away with this... it's a consciousness."
"It's both a consciousness and a major source of sensitive information on human colonized space. Damaging an AI like this... sending fragmented pieces of a smart AI into the field... it's a major violation of the Cole Protocol," she says. "If one of these AI fell into the wrong hands..."
It could mean the end for humanity itself.
"And, to be clear, I'm not minimizing the fact that they're torturing a living mind, believe me, I care a lot about what they're doing to the Alpha as a sentient mind," she shudders a little just thinking about it. What the Director is doing here is reprehensible, "but, unfortunately, the UNSC's going to take some parts of this more into account than others."
She hates having to see it in such ways, having to warp her own priorities to hone in on what the authorities will care about.
"You're right, that's the better angle to take with them, I just..."
He's horrified. Disgusted. Connie's known about this for awhile, he suspects, which is why she can be more pragmatic, but he's thinking of the same word she is: it's reprehensible.
"Well, there's another thing in here that's... probably going to blow your mind. So... do you want to see that first, or hear some of the less shocking stuff?"
Her finger hovers automatically over the Beta file, but she knows from experience what finding out the information inside it is like. It changes things, makes you question what you know.
She still can't even begin to imagine what it was like for Texas and she's yet to dare to actually ask outright, to try and understand.
"This first -- get the worst out of the way." He doesn't hesitate with that answer, bracing himself. Then nods; she can click the file.
Except that when she does, it takes him a moment to realize he's reading... about Texas. She's. Holy shit. His eyes go wide and he reaches up to cover his mouth as he reads. When he's gotten to the end, he shakes his head and drops his hand, looking back at Connie.
Connie nods. "Yeah, she knows. I left a copy of these files in her locker, when I thought... when I thought I'd have to go away."
She shifts uncomfortably where she sits at the thought. She almost left. She almost left and yet here she was now, with Wash sitting beside her and listening. She'd thought that impossible before. If she'd gone...
"I didn't think I had a choice. This has been a dangerous few months for me. The Project was finally catching on and my contact, someone on the outside I've been communicating with, felt that I couldn't afford to stay any longer with no allies here. So... I prepared to leave."
She casts her eyes down. Hindsight is a tricky thing; she knows now that Wash would listen if she found the right words, she knows now that she has allies here, but before she had felt so alone.
"The mission getting delayed stopped that. Tex found the tags I left and... the rest is history. I finally had an ally."
Wash listens intently, trying to let the sting of her words roll off. He'd already been covering for her, but she couldn't have known for sure he was safe. He gets it. Just in case she wasn't certain, though?
"You've got two. I don't know what I can actually do with any of this, but I'll help."
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hexaflexagons2020-07-23 10:00 pm
no subject
This is much more nerve-wracking than talking to Texas has been.
Connie's on edge as they make their way away from the locker room to Wash's bunk and though she makes idle, meaningless conversation to disguise the tension for the benefit of the others they pass in the hallways, she's silent in every other way that matters.
Only when they make it inside the room and the door is closed does she even feel like she's breathing again.
"I know what I said back then was angry and I know it sounded crazy, but... I swear to you, it's more than that."
no subject
Wash crosses to sit on his bunk, ready to listen to whatever she has to say. Really listen, because if it isn't just accusations... they'll have to do something about it, right?
no subject
Connie considers sitting beside him, but there's too much restless energy in her so she settles for standing in front of him.
She's never had to explain this aloud before.
"When I said the board was a filtering process, at the time, I genuinely didn't know what for. Now, it's probably obvious, to you as well as me, that it's about the AI but... it's more than that. And the AI are more than just... copies, Wash."
Where does she start? What will get his attention, what's the easiest to prove?
"The Triplets, you remember them? I found out a few days before that mission that they didn't drop out of the program. They were abandoned on a planet to die, because they weren't up to par with the rest of us. And I can prove that, and everything else I say, I have—"
She fumbles, pulling out a fresh set of false dog tags from under her shirt.
"I have all of the information on here," she says, showing him the drive.
no subject
He frowns at the drive... why would they do that? What's so secretive that they'd abandon their own agents?
"If I access anything on there at a terminal, can't they monitor me?"
no subject
"It's complicated," she says. "There's protections built into it, it disguises itself, but if I duck to my bunk and bring the laptop I've been using, I can show you now. No terminals needed."
She should have thought to grab it first, really, but her mind is being pulled in so many directions.
no subject
no subject
"Thank you," she says, lifting the dog tags from around her neck and pressing them into his hand, leaving them there.
After squeezing that hand, she quickly darts out of the room.
Her bunk isn't far, at least, and she knows South isn't there at this time of day. Hiding it under her shirt, she returns within a few minutes and drops onto the bed beside Wash as she pulls it back out.
"Got it."
no subject
He offers them back, peering at her laptop. "How long have you had that on the ship?"
no subject
"Strictly speaking, it's not mine, it's... borrowed. I came into this place with the intention of mostly following the rules, so I didn't bring one with me when I first came."
She boots it up and plugs in the drive. After entering a password, a file directory opens up: AI Experimentation, Mission Logs, Personnel Files, Financials, Video Surveillance. She's been very thorough.
no subject
"This is everything. How did you--?" No, it doesn't matter, he probably wouldn't understand anyway. What matters more is what's on them. "What am I looking at?"
It could all just be normal, after all. Nothing there is titled differently than he'd expect the Project's records to be.
no subject
"You have no idea how little I've slept the past few months," she says by way of answering the first unfinished question, though it's not exactly a finished answer either. "What you're looking at is basically every single file from the Project I could get access to, let's start with..."
She navigates to the mission logs and pulls up a single file, a Level 0 clearance log of a mission attributed to the Triplets.
Only, the Triplets had never been on a mission.
The file starts off looking like a standard log of a mission, but quickly becomes a detailed report of exactly what Connie had said: the Triplets were abandoned. Within an hour of their boots hitting the ground, the Mother of Invention left the system where they had been deployed and even before that, they had cut off all communications to the Triplets.
"See?" she says. "They didn't drop out. They were disposed of."
no subject
He was a fool, obviously, and the proof of that is staring him in the face now.
"I can't... who would we even report this to?"
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Connie looks at him as he reads, watching the realisation settle in. She rests a commiserating hand on his shoulder. It wasn't easy for her when she first found out, either. She'd felt sick to her stomach.
"The worst of it is, this... wouldn't have been enough to report it to anyone. With the nature of the Project, the UNSC would never have shut it down over this," she says, a mix of rage and sadness in her voice. "If I hadn't found everything else I've found, I wouldn't have felt I could take this anywhere."
She sighs.
"I have a contact, but... okay, this will sound crazier than anything I've said so far, but Tex and I have something resembling a plan."
no subject
no subject
She gives his shoulder another squeeze, then turns her focus back to the laptop.
"Okay, so I said that the AI weren't copies, right?"
She navigates back to the AI experimentation folder and opens it up to show that she's gathered files on every AI currently in circulation—Omega through Theta—as well as several that have yet to be created or distributed and two others: Alpha and Beta.
"You know how in class, they call them fragments? Turns out that's the more accurate term. The AI... they're pieces of another AI, not copies.
no subject
He's not arguing, just stating what they've been told all along... but Connie's right, in class they call them fragments. Wash just never stopped to think about what that meant in terms of a human mind. He reads what's on the screen, until it gets to Alpha and how they're using that AI to--
"...this is illegal," he says, shocked. Not just experimental but straight up immoral and illegal, it's a war crime on par with the Spartan-II program rumors as far as he's concerned. "They can't get away with this... it's a consciousness."
no subject
"It's both a consciousness and a major source of sensitive information on human colonized space. Damaging an AI like this... sending fragmented pieces of a smart AI into the field... it's a major violation of the Cole Protocol," she says. "If one of these AI fell into the wrong hands..."
It could mean the end for humanity itself.
"And, to be clear, I'm not minimizing the fact that they're torturing a living mind, believe me, I care a lot about what they're doing to the Alpha as a sentient mind," she shudders a little just thinking about it. What the Director is doing here is reprehensible, "but, unfortunately, the UNSC's going to take some parts of this more into account than others."
She hates having to see it in such ways, having to warp her own priorities to hone in on what the authorities will care about.
no subject
He's horrified. Disgusted. Connie's known about this for awhile, he suspects, which is why she can be more pragmatic, but he's thinking of the same word she is: it's reprehensible.
"I'm scared what to click on next."
no subject
"Well, there's another thing in here that's... probably going to blow your mind. So... do you want to see that first, or hear some of the less shocking stuff?"
Her finger hovers automatically over the Beta file, but she knows from experience what finding out the information inside it is like. It changes things, makes you question what you know.
She still can't even begin to imagine what it was like for Texas and she's yet to dare to actually ask outright, to try and understand.
no subject
Except that when she does, it takes him a moment to realize he's reading... about Texas. She's. Holy shit. His eyes go wide and he reaches up to cover his mouth as he reads. When he's gotten to the end, he shakes his head and drops his hand, looking back at Connie.
"Does she even know..?"
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Connie nods. "Yeah, she knows. I left a copy of these files in her locker, when I thought... when I thought I'd have to go away."
She shifts uncomfortably where she sits at the thought. She almost left. She almost left and yet here she was now, with Wash sitting beside her and listening. She'd thought that impossible before. If she'd gone...
"She found them, then came to me."
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"How'd she take-- wait. You were going to leave?"
no subject
"I didn't think I had a choice. This has been a dangerous few months for me. The Project was finally catching on and my contact, someone on the outside I've been communicating with, felt that I couldn't afford to stay any longer with no allies here. So... I prepared to leave."
She casts her eyes down. Hindsight is a tricky thing; she knows now that Wash would listen if she found the right words, she knows now that she has allies here, but before she had felt so alone.
"The mission getting delayed stopped that. Tex found the tags I left and... the rest is history. I finally had an ally."
no subject
"You've got two. I don't know what I can actually do with any of this, but I'll help."
no subject
Connie puts the laptop down next to her so she can hug him, before she can overthink or second guess herself.
"Thank you," she says, relief in every word. "Just knowing you have my back helps more than you can ever know."
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