"All right." She might not be the most sensitive soul out there, but Cortana knows when she's hit a sore spot. "If we're lucky, it won't even come up." She's not sure how much of the Chief's luck has rubbed off on her, or if what she'd gotten had been used up on the Ark. Or why she would even be considering factoring in something as unscientific as that.

"Assuming they really do want help, they've got a UNSC IFF which should alert me before we're in visual range." Or, perhaps more importantly, bullet range. "I'll suppress mine and your omnicomm, at least until we scope out the scene. Physical stealth is your problem--your thermoptics will keep us off any motion trackers, but I can't account for telepathy or anything else that goes bump in the night."