[Catherine Halsey knows she's surrounded by enemies. Even Captain Lasky's courtesy will disappear if it becomes inconvenient, and then there'll be nothing standing between her and Palmer's short-sighted spite...nothing but Halsey's wits, that is. So much the worse for Palmer.
It's the awareness of being alone in hostile territory that causes her to lie still when she wakes, eyes closed as if in sleep while the atrocious music echoes in her ears. It's nothing she chose. The OSDT guards? Those sad excuses for SPARTANs infesting the ship?
No. Something is even more wrong than it was when she went to sleep--and she doesn't remember going to sleep. This isn't the hard cot of her cell, and the ever-present hum of the Infinity's systems is absent. Her eyes snap open and she sits bolt upright.
...Odd. This is no UNSC facility, nor the sleek Forerunner one she might expect to find after such a strange translocation. Pushing aside endless currently unanswerable questions, Halsey rises from the bed to search the small room top to bottom, turning up her data pad, a museum piece of a radio, and, inexplicably, a picture of Cortana. She doesn't need that reminder, but nonetheless tucks it into a pocket of her lab coat before venturing into the corridor.
It soon becomes clear she's in a building that's gone undisturbed for a good five centuries, at least if the wiring in the access panel she levers open is any indication. No way to tap into the computer system there...since there is no system. It explains why her data pad can't find any network to talk to, at least.]
Ridiculous.
[...Huffs the 60-something woman dressed like a Star Trek extra and crouching next to a maintenance panel, glaring at whatever lies within as though it's personally offended her.]
Catherine Halsey | Halo | OTA
It's the awareness of being alone in hostile territory that causes her to lie still when she wakes, eyes closed as if in sleep while the atrocious music echoes in her ears. It's nothing she chose. The OSDT guards? Those sad excuses for SPARTANs infesting the ship?
No. Something is even more wrong than it was when she went to sleep--and she doesn't remember going to sleep. This isn't the hard cot of her cell, and the ever-present hum of the Infinity's systems is absent. Her eyes snap open and she sits bolt upright.
...Odd. This is no UNSC facility, nor the sleek Forerunner one she might expect to find after such a strange translocation. Pushing aside endless currently unanswerable questions, Halsey rises from the bed to search the small room top to bottom, turning up her data pad, a museum piece of a radio, and, inexplicably, a picture of Cortana. She doesn't need that reminder, but nonetheless tucks it into a pocket of her lab coat before venturing into the corridor.
It soon becomes clear she's in a building that's gone undisturbed for a good five centuries, at least if the wiring in the access panel she levers open is any indication. No way to tap into the computer system there...since there is no system. It explains why her data pad can't find any network to talk to, at least.]
Ridiculous.
[...Huffs the 60-something woman dressed like a Star Trek extra and crouching next to a maintenance panel, glaring at whatever lies within as though it's personally offended her.]