A/N: Hello, my lovelies... I know, it's been so long, and I've been labouring over this chapter for a REALLY long time. For that, I am deeply sorry.
But!
I doubled down, and managed to complete the chapter before the end of the year, so how's THAT for determination, eh?

Also, HUGE s/o to my pals on discord for helping me here and there with this chapter. You guys are the best, and your assistance is invaluable. If you're reading this, you know who you are ;)

Heh... Enjoy it :D

(also, to be fair, I uploaded this chapter to ao3 BEFORE the New Year, but uh... didn't upload it here, whoops.)

July 26th, 11:12 Hours

"I'm going to ask you something, and I'm not going to repeat myself." Six opened up a private COMLINK, one that allowed her and Emile to speak without anyone else hearing them. "Did you, or did you not, hear any of my call to my superiors? Or did you only catch me in the act of singing?"

"Might've caught the tail end of your conversation, but I wasn't really payin' any attention. Much as I am one to pry, I have no interest in things like that. Not entertainin' enough, you know?" A chuckle accompanied the assault specialist's words, and he sounded amused.

The Lieutenant leaned back against the rear wall of the Falcon, and closed her eyes. That was a relief. If he'd managed to catch any snippets of what she'd said to her superiors within COLD MOON…. She didn't want the rest of Noble Team knowing what she really thought of them. And she didn't want COLD MOON to become too interested in these Spartans. She had to protect them. If she ever had to threaten them, to make them keep their silence, then she would. But she was thankful that she did not — it was not something she actually wanted to do.

"Yes, I… understand what you mean." she answered simply, and closed the private link. It would do her no good if Emile started questioning as to why she'd asked him that. She was not sure she would be able to answer him with anything but honesty, and that would cause a number of problems that she would not be able to solve on her own.

She allowed the roar of the Falcons' rotors to drown out anything else. It was a comforting sound. Although not entirely familiar to her, as she'd worked more with Pelicans and fighters than these smaller craft, it relaxed her all the same. As did the steady swaying of the birds' carriages. Nothing quite beat the sensation of flying through the air, even if she wasn't the one at the controls.

Aside from running, of course. But that was just flying on the ground, wasn't it?

"You seem pretty relaxed, over there, Six," Jun called to her over TEAMCOM, a friendly, amused warmth colouring his voice, "Or have you actually fallen asleep?"

B312 allowed a snort to be voiced, and she shook her head, despite the marksman not being able to see it from where he was seated in Kilo 34. From her own seat in Kilo 33, she was just able to make him out, the barrel of his trusted SRS99 giving him away in a heartbeat. "What can I say; being up in the air is pretty calming to me. Although I'd much rather be piloting this bird, sometimes it's nice to let someone else have that job for a chance. Less for me to worry about."

"Didn't take you for a worrier." Jun remarked, curiosity evident in his tone. "I'm guessing you don't like thinking, you prefer doing?"

"Got it in one." she affirmed, and the Warrant Officer laughed softly.

"I don't blame you," he responded, "I do the same thing. Not that I have much choice on the "not thinking" part, since I'm the team's scout. It is what it is. I won't complain."

Any further banter was silenced by the COMLINK channel to Sword Control crackling to life. "Be advised, Kilo 33, and Kilo 34, your current LZ is too hot!" a smooth male voice informed them. "Suggest shifting course right away."

"Roger that." Carter answered calmly. "Dot, standby to receive and respond."

"Yes, Commander… coordinates received. Initiate immediate course correction." the AI intoned blithely.

As the Falcons bypassed a large island, the source of all the UNSC's current troubles came into view. A sleek, purple corvette hovered in low orbit above the territory where SWORD Base rested. Every so often, it would fire off one, two, three shots from the guns on its bow. And of course, the Covenant troops crawling all over SWORD Base itself were deposited from dropships that swirled down from the warship's belly.

Kilo 33 and Kilo 34 swung a hard right, onto their new flight path, and the corvette was soon out of sight.

Auntie Dot then continued speaking, apprising the team of what they would be heading into. "The Office of Naval Intelligence SWORD Base is presently under siege from a corvette-class Covenant vessel. Due to the sensitive nature of this facility, use of orbital rounds has been, for the moment, prohibited. Regrettably, my efforts to obtain relevant data on enemy forces have been unsuccessful. However, current defensive forces are insufficient. ONI has requested Team Noble's direct intervention to help secure SWORD Base."

"Sometimes I wish we had an AI that didn't sound so damn... boring." Emile muttered under his breath, oblivious to the fact that he was broadcasting over TEAMCOM.

"Stow it, Noble Four; focus on the mission." Carter warned, his tone businesslike. "Alright people, we're stuck with that ship for the time being. Let's focus on the hostile infantry — give those troopers a hand."

The Falcons began to descend towards SWORD Base's courtyard. From that viewpoint, it was easy to see that the Covenant had the upper hand over the squad of Army Troopers, that were doing their best to valiantly drive the attackers off. It wasn't a good outlook... But then, that was what the Spartans were deploying for. Evening the odds, and then proceeding to turn them in the UNSC's favour, was their speciality.

TEAMCOM buzzed with static for a beat, before coming to life, with fresh orders from the Commander. "Six, you're out here with me. Jorge, Emile — you're next, get prepped."

The moment the word had been given, B312 jumped from the side of the Falcon, unslinging her DMR in one smooth motion. She watched for a beat as Carter disembarked from Kilo 34, before turning her sights on the battle ahead of her. Just beyond a covered walkway was a cluster of Grunts, two of them clambering up and over munitions crates before joining their companions. Even above the din of the firefight in the courtyard beyond, she could hear their barks and squeaks. There were two Minors, a Major, and their leader was an Ultra. Not too difficult for her, although headshotting the Ultra would be troublesome.

"Let's push back the attack on SWORD Base, find out what we're dealing with." Carter instructed her. "We're now Noble Strike."

As if she needed to be told twice. The second the Major Grunt was in her sights, she gave a gentle squeeze of the trigger, and watched in satisfaction as a spurt of bright blue blood erupted from its head. The creature then toppled to the ground, and the two Minors chattered in alarm. As soon as they began to panic, it made her life so much simpler — she pinged them both before they could scamper out of her line of sight.

Only the Ultra was now left standing, and as she watched, it collapsed in a heap, writhing and jerking. She glanced to her right and saw Carter looking at her; he tipped his head towards one of the Troopers, who was cradling a still-smoking AR like it was their lifeline. As she directed her gaze over to them, a rank and a name popped up on her HUD:

LCPL EILEEN PYREN

Closer scrutinization revealed darting green eyes set in a rounded face. She was also quite nervous, too, the poor bastard. She looked to be on the young side; the woman could not have been more than a couple of years older than she was. Clearly not very battlefield experienced.

"Nice shot, Pyren," the Lieutenant complimented her, who gave a jerky looking salute and a grin in return.

The Trooper looked more relieved, after that, yelling encouragement to her squadmates as she jogged after them. That was a good sign; B312 had intended to bolster the young woman's reserve. And it had worked.

"Spartans, hostiles north." Sword Control informed the two Spartans over the COM, the voice snapping Six out of her thoughts.

"Come on, Lieutenant, get your head out of the clouds and get into the fight." Noble One jogged past her, and up a ramp leading deeper into SWORD Base's courtyard. His words had her springing into action, and in mere seconds she was breezing past him, shoulder checking a Jackal and knocking it to the ground, its circular shield snapping out of existence upon impact.

"Do you want to make that a challenge, Commander?" Her words were punctuated by her snapping the Jackal's neck, followed up by kicking a second of the avian creatures halfway across the walkway they stood on. "One who has the least kills at the end of the day, has to give a back rub to the winner."

"Alright, I'll take you up on that."

Moving in tandem, the two Spartans worked to gun down a Sangheili Major that had come rushing up another ramp from the side. Not a moment later, still working in sync, the pair then shot dead the three Unggoy that had ambled after their leader, barking and squawking in their native tongue.

"...That doesn't count towards the score." Six stated, sparing a momentary glance towards her blue-armoured companion. "But any kills after this, will."

The Commander nodded his agreement. "Noted. It never happened."

Silence drifted across the COM, punctuated only by the reports of projectile and plasma weaponry alike, as well as the murmurs of the Troopers giving instruction to one another, and the aliens doing the same. Which was fine by Sierra B312, because she preferred to work in the quiet. She was more used to it, having been deployed as a solo operative for many, many years. There had been times where she'd had a team of Marines or ODSTs for backup, sure, but aside from pre-mission banter, they'd been dedicated to their jobs in the middle of a firefight, and traded quips were rare. Part of her was glad that she'd been made to work with Noble One, despite the fact that they butted heads. He had the same dedication and focus, and didn't waste breath on stupid jokes when things were going sideways.

From what she'd observed thus far, and read in his psych eval, at any rate. And while she didn't expect that to change, people were unpredictable. For all she knew, the Commander might have been one to make jokes on the field, but just not frequently enough for it to be recorded, or to matter.

She would just have to wait and see.

For the time being, she focused on the task at hand. A quick survey of the second courtyard, closer to SWORD Base's exit, told her most of what she had to know. A whole host of Covenant forces, consisting of Elites, Grunts, and Jackals alike, all of whom were lead by a white-armoured Elite Ultra. That bastard would be the most troublesome to take out, and not just because of the stronger shielding it would be equipped with. Ultras were veterans, and had mastered both ranged and close-quarters tactics.

She could take it out easily enough with her DMR, but doing so would cost her a magazine, maybe even one and a half. And that was ammo that she didn't want to waste. Grenades were useful in a pinch, but Ultras damn near always managed to avoid the worst of the blast, the crafty bastards. She would perhaps have to think outside the square on this one.

She concentrated instead on the rank-and-file aliens instead. It was much more efficient for her to mull things over and kill at the same time.

Something darted in and out of Six's field of vision, and she turned her head to look. It was a costly mistake, because it allowed one of the Sangheili Majors to unleash a barrage of plasma, which drained her shields by a quarter. She growled in frustration, and doubled down on that bastard, pinging it with a headshot. She never did work out what she had seen, but it didn't matter now.

As the Lieutenant sighted down a Jackal Minor, something flashed in and out of the corner of her eye. This time, she chose to ignore it, instead watching as the avian creature collapsed in a puddle of blood.

Another one down.

But there it was again — that flash. Something moving. No identifier. She wanted to rub at her eyes, wanted to make sure it was more than just a spectre of her imagination.

There. Again.

Six darted toward the shadow, a blur of motion. Without giving it a chance to identify itself, she reared her head back... The enemy staggered back, and before it could regain its composure, she spun her rifle, slamming the butt into its visor.

Visor.

Well, fuck. Of course it had to be him. Of course it had to complicate things.

He went sprawling to the ground and even though she couldn't see his face, her Commander's surprise was evident as he stared up at her. She stood over him, impassive, and tilted her head, frowning beneath her own helm.

Shake it off. Get back into the fight.

Without giving him a chance to explain himself, or to tell her to get back into the fight, she reared her head back, launching herself forward, her head connecting with his in a clash of armour. He staggered back, and before he could regain his composure, she spun her rifle, slamming the butt into his visor. He went sprawling to the ground, and even though she couldn't see his face, her Commander's surprise was evident as he stared up at her.

She turned her back on him, and scanned over the battlefield one more time. There was one more Elite Major to deal with, as well as a pair of Minors... but aside from them, the remainder of the rank-and-file aliens was dead. That left those three, as well as that Ultra.

Six eyed the SRS99, that had been propped up against the lip of the walkway, abandoned by its owner. It wasn't Nox Aeterna, but any sniper rifle would do in a pinch. She hefted the weapon and magnetically latched her DMR into place on her backplate, before peering through the sniper's scope.

Over the COM, she heard a quiet groan from her mission partner, and behind her, she heard the shuffle of metal-on-metal. Seemed like Carter was trying to get himself in order and get back into the fight.

"Sorry, not sorry, boss," she quipped under her breath, gently squeezing the trigger and watching as the Major's head erupted in a spray of purple, "But you were being distracting."

"We need to talk, Six."

The Lieutenant paid no heed to whatever Carter said to her over TEAMCOM. She was intensely focused on guiding her M12 Warthog through a power slide, and listening to music at the same time. Surely whatever he wanted to say to her wasn't that important, anyway. The things he'd told her thus far were only bits and pieces of instructions, which she followed with only half a mind on what had been said. So why would this time be any different?

"Lieutenant. Are you even listening to me?" There was a commanding growl to his voice that garnered her attention. A short, frustrated sigh escaped him next, and she heard a clunk as he panned the M41 Vulcan chaingun around to face forwards.

"Not particularly, no." Her answer was brusque and breezy. She steered the Warthog around a tight bend with ease, the wheels crunching over a Grunt that had been too slow to get out of the way. The noise was oddly satisfying, and the Spartan couldn't help but smirk to herself.

"We're really doing this again, aren't we." the Commander deadpanned. "I understand if you have problems with authority, Lieutenant, but that does not exempt you from listening to my orders." His voice softened. "I'm not ONI. You can trust me."

"I can't trust people." she argued, voice cracking and grip tightening on the steering wheel. "The extent of my trust runs to Kat, and no further. Because every time I trust somebody, they get hurt. And I don't want that happening to anybody else. You wanna know why I'm not making any actual attempts to get close to the team, to really fit in? That's why."

There was another clunk, followed by a brief bratta-bratta-bratta as her companion fired the Vulcan into a crowd of Grunts and Jackals. And then, he spoke once the only sound was the whining of the Warthog's engine. "Look... I'm not asking you to trust us as much as we trust one another. That's not something that can be given out freely; that's something that's earned through... months of hardship, and skirmish after skirmish, where your Spartans beside you are damn near the one thing you can rely on to get you through the day." He sighed again, this time resignedly. "All I ask is for you to trust us to have your six, and we'll extend that same courtesy to you."

Six pressed her lips into a line, before biting the inside of her cheek so hard she began to taste copper. Then, she blew out an explosive puff of air — not out of frustration, but out of relief — and nodded. "I... Suppose I can manage that. It's not going to be easy, but I can... I can manage."

"Not so hard, was it?" There was a wry smile on his face; she could hear it in his voice. "By the way, Six... That whole you pushing me to the ground and keeping me out of the fight for five minutes... That didn't happen. I'm not even gonna question why you did it. Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Sure, boss." It was hard not to keep the response from coming off as quippy. But she held herself in check, and focused on steering the 'Hog clean over a pair of Jackals and an Elite, the big tires momentarily wallowing over the bodies before spitting them out the other side.

"And speaking of things I'm not planning on bringing up to you, even though I really should... I'm not going to broach the topic of the fact that your hair is well past regulation length." A bratta-bratta punctuated his words, and then he paused altogether, concentrating on ridding the territory they were trying to reclaim for the UNSC of a group of Skirmishers. When the area was clear, the Spartan continued. "You're lucky I tend to let things like that slide, more often than not. That'll be your one "pushing regs allowance", as Emile coins it. If you've got, or if you do, anything else that's past regs, then I'm going to have to report you. Clear?"

Not what she had been expecting, but Six wasn't going to complain.

"Crystal."

"Good. Then let's get movin'."

"Ah, fuck."

"Fuckbiscuits."

The curse words were said in almost the same instant, and Six had to suppress a snort.

She rolled her shoulders back, drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly. Focus. All she had to do was focus.

"Hunters," she murmured, with a shake of her head, "There's always two of them. Bonded pair. This is going to be fun." There was a dry note to her voice, and from her companion beside her, she caught a half-stifled chuckle.

"Got a plan in mind, Lieutenant?" he queried.

"Yeah... And you get to be the decoy." She was already lowering herself to her belly, drawing the SRS99 she'd pilfered off her back and resting it in front of her. She kicked down the stand, and made the minutest of tweaks to the scope, before peering through.

The sight she was greeted with was somewhat disheartening... Two Hunters, as she'd stated, as well as an Elite and a handful of Grunts, were harassing a trio of beleaguered Army Troopers. There had evidently been more of the soldiers too, as evidenced by the pair of corpses that she could see, lying in pools of their own blood. There were likely more, out of her field of view.

"Well, that's not good..." she said, more to herself than to her partner. "Troopers in there," she explained, at his noise of confusion, "Being pinned down. I'd say there was a squad, but there's only three left alive."

"Damn." He voiced a sigh. "Looks like we'll just have to make doubly sure those three live to fight another day. Not much more work for us, but it's going to be troublesome with those Hunters."

Six inclined her head in agreement. "Try to make it look convincing, would you? I don't want them deciding that tracing my vapour trail is more interesting than being taunted by you." she called to him, as he made his way past her, and into the garage.

"Just you watch, Six." he returned, amusement colouring his tone. "I'll keep 'em so busy, they won't have any choice but to focus on what I'm doing."

The Lieutenant chuckled quietly, and focused on what was sprawled out in her scope's vision. One eye was on the Hunters, lumbering and lining up to take another shot at the Troopers. And the other eye was trained on her mission partner, tracking his movements. She noted that he'd traded his favoured DMR for a shotgun, which was a smart move, in her opinion. DMRs weren't really made for close-range engagements; those fights was where the shotgun thrived.

Carter flanked the Hunters with relative ease, his smaller size allowing him the speed and manoeuvrability that the armoured behemoths so sorely lacked. The second one of the beasts had its back to her, she squeezed the trigger of her sniper rifle. She listened with satisfaction as the alien rumbled in a mixture of rage and pain, and doubled down on Carter's position.

Problem for him, free fire zone for her.

She was almost distracted by Carter ducking and weaving, spinning circles around the Hunters, never once firing his shotgun, but keeping it ready just in case one of them closed the gap. His movements were fluid, almost graceful, and she hadn't quite expected them from him. His fighting style thus far was like clockwork. Precise in his movements, his reactions a pure product of muscle memory. Like a machine. But this... this was like a dance, or perhaps a game...

It reminded her of herself.

However, when a bolt of sickly green, superheated plasma whooshed past her head, she was brought back to reality. She blinked, and realized that one of the Hunters had turned in her direction, having tracked the contrail of her sniper rifle all the way to her position. Exactly what she didn't want happening — and it was on her actions, rather than her partner's.

Damn it. What the hell is wrong with you, Lieutenant? Get your head in the game.

Carter must have seen her mistake, because he charged at that Hunter, all coiled muscle and raw power, and fired his M45 in the gap between armour plates. A backflip then took him out of the behemoth's range; as he backed further away, Six took the opportunity to line up a shot, right below the "helmet", and squeeze the trigger.

A low, rumbling roar, more felt than heard, split the air.

The Hunter was unsteady on its feet, but it was still standing, and it was still intent on killing. And its partner, meanwhile, was angry that it had been hurt; the second Hunter's spines flared, and it smashed its shield and assault cannon against one another.

"Having fun yet, Six?" the Commander queried, and she could hear his slightly laboured breathing; huffed pants weren't an easy thing to miss. He was pushing himself to keep abreast of those Hunters; they could move with surprising speed, at times, and it was tricky to keep out of their reach.

"Damn near. If I could just ping these bastards already, then I'd be enjoying myself a whole lot more." she groused. "Troopers holding up okay?"

"As well as they can be, I'd say. They've cleared out the Grunts, but the Elite has gone back into hiding. Picky bastard's probably waiting to spring the trap as soon as these Hunters are out of the way."

A noise of disgust escaped B312. "Of fucking course." She wouldn't have been surprised if he could hear her rolling her eyes. "Typical hinge-head with a boner for attempting to murder a Spartan."

That comment was rewarded with a quiet chuckle. "Makes you sound like Emile."

"He's not the only blood-thirsty Spartan on the team." she retorted, and watched him dart just beyond the Hunter's reach, before twisting around and behind it. The creature made a noise that sounded like frustration, spinning as quickly as it could go. Of course, all the more beneficial for Six; the moment its back was to her, she gave a gentle squeeze of the trigger, and smirked in satisfaction as the round hit clean home.

And that was how the dance went. Carter quite literally ran circles around the armoured behemoths, and Six took shots whenever they became available. She was grateful she still had the SRS99, for the fight would have been more protracted had she a weapon with lesser calibre bullets, such as a DMR.

The sound of one Hunter crashing to the ground, quickly followed by the second, was sweet, sweet musing to the Lieutenant's ears. She found that her lips had curled, and peeled back from her teeth in a wolfish grin, albeit one that nobody else could see.

Short work was made of the Elite that was waiting for them — it had only been a Minor, after all — and the Spartans filed into the elevator.

About halfway up, the elevator stopped, and the world around them briefly shook as an explosion rocked the building. Both Spartans bent their knees to brace themselves, only to straighten up once the elevator resumed its ascent.

"Corvette's hitting this base hard." Emile noted over the COM, sounding slightly irritated.

"Where's our orbital support? Got to be four platforms that could take it out with a single MAC round." Kat chimed in.

"I'd say Command's waiting for that corvette to move off, because it's still too close for comfort." Carter reminded the team. As the elevator slid to a halt, he glanced to Six, and gave her a nod, before moving out into the security office. She returned the nod in kind, and padded out after him, walking on soundless feet.

A blithe, electronic voice spoke over a PA system, the moment the Spartans' presence was detected within the room. "Welcome to the Office of Naval Intelligence. An ONI representative will meet you shortly."

"Somehow, I doubt that's gonna happen." the Commander remarked dryly, as he and Six worked in tandem to rid the office of the handful of Alpha Bravos attempting to block their path.

"Thankyou, Lieutenant! You have been cleared for access." the voice chirped, and the aforementioned Spartan shook her head, while her hands deftly reloaded her Magnum.

"Stuffy, much?" she said snidely, and her partner laughed.

It was almost surreal, how easily the banter came to her now. Maybe the team was rubbing off on her, or maybe she was coming out of her shell without even realizing it. Perhaps it was both.

Eyes on the prize. Complete this mission first, and then think about the repercussions of getting attached.

A door before them irised open, and revealed to them exactly what the rest of Noble Team were having to deal with. From the looks of things, it wasn't entirely going in the UNSC's favour. Hopefully, with the return of Noble Strike, that would make things easier.

"Spartan! Over here!" Jorge called, spraying the area with Etilka, before turning to greet his teammates with a wave. Six trotted over to his side, and began to aid him, Jun, and a pair of Army Troopers in removing all enemy forces from the ground floor.

Carter shifted towards them once the aliens were all corpses, and he began to issue the next set of orders. "Six, head upstairs and assist Emile. Jorge, you're her backup: make sure she gets there."

"Depend on it." Jorge hefted Etilka so that it was easier for him to walk and carry the gun, and turned to face Six. "I've got yer back, El-tee."

There was nothing more satisfying than watching the corvette sink into the lake. And it had been at their hard work, too; if it hadn't been for Four and Six clearing the skies, those Longswords would have never gotten up there to chase the blasted warship away, and Command would not have been able to summon support in the form of a MAC round from orbit. Safe to say, it was a job well done. Six was pleased with her handiwork... evidently, so were the rest of the team.

"Hell yeah! That's the way we get it done, Spartan!" Emile crowed victoriously. He slapped his fist against his chestplate, before tossing his spent M41 SPNKr to the ground, and stalking off into the shadows.

Jorge joined her at the edge of the ruined building, clasping a hand on the shoulder. "Beautiful, ain't it?" he questioned, sounding all too cheerful. "Someone should take a picture." His fingers curled around the armour plating. "Nice work, by the way."

Six inclined her head, not wanting to brush off the praise, but not quite wanting to acknowledge it, either. "I aim to please." she said offhandedly.

TEAMCOM crackled to life, disrupting any further conversation, and Carter's voice came through. "Five, Six, get down to the science wing. Doctor Halsey wants a debrief, and Command's saying we're all hers, for the time being." He didn't sound too happy about the situation, and there wasn't much guessing as to why.

After all, Halsey was notorious for pissing soldiers off, even if that was never her intent. Or so the rumours went.

As one, the two Spartans turned away from the view of the lake, and began to walk inside.

"Repeat? Sounded like you said "Halsey"." Jorge inquired, confusion bleeding into his tone.

"I did." The line clicked closed, and Six found herself glancing up into the Spartan-II's amber-coloured visor as they walked.

"Not sure I'm following this." she mused.

"Don't need Command to tell me. Been all hers half me life." Jorge sounded somewhat wistful. "Been awhile since I've seen Doctor Halsey..." It took him a moment to realize what she'd said. "Right, sorry about that, there. Doctor Halsey, she, ah... Created the SPARTAN-II Program. Trained me and seventy-four others."

"You care about her?" Six realized she didn't even have to lengthen her strides to keep up with the bigger Spartan. He seemed in no great hurry, merely ambling along through the many halls and wings of SWORD Base, to get to where they were going.

"She was kind of a mother figure to all of us, I s'pose." he commented, with a shrug. "We're probably among the few who can handle her, ah, personality."

Six arched an eyebrow. "Carter sounded like he was in a mood. I figure that's not exactly a regular thing for him, is it?"

Jorge shook his head, and that was all she needed to know. It looked like they were in for a very interesting debrief, then. Safe to say, Six wasn't sure she was looking forward to meeting this Doctor Halsey character. Something told her that she would not like the woman at all.

Nothing new there, is it? You don't really like non-Spartans at all.

Yeah, I guess I don't.