There's a flurry of activity around the bay when the Cruiser docks, and an imposing figure in a suit of armor carves straight through it. The Chief's suit is a mess, pitted and striped where acid chewed into the plates. A tech trails after him, struggling to keep up with the Spartan's long strides.

"Master Chief, you need to report to-"

John pauses and turns with his whole body, shoulders broad and head high, and looks directly at the man. He's silent. The tech, who's been trying for the last ten minutes, swallows what he was trying to say. (And, possibly, his tongue.)

"Wait," says the Chief.

The tech waits.

No one else tries to stop John as he hunts through the disembarking team, looking for one person in particular.

One person, and the Legionnaire carrying her.