Locus has met the Chief. If Cortana weren't okay with carrying a good nine-tenths of the conversation herself, their partnership wouldn't have gotten far...though Locus will have to start cracking the occasional deadpan joke if he wants to measure up.

"Yes, but there's enough unrelated motion from the automated systems that filtering the security feeds is tricky." Wait. He might think that's an admission of failure. "Fortunately, you have me."

The blast doors start to open, then stop less than a meter apart--the less movement, the better. Even through the relatively narrow gap, movement is shaping up to be the theme. Machinery fills the cavernous room, a warehouse with no staff, the cranes and conveyors operating themselves as they shuttle supplies and parts around to maintain the base after its creator is long gone. Cortana has to respect the engineering, even if they're probably going to break a bunch of it.

"Might want to get some altitude. I'm seeing quite a few suspicious lumps that scream 'proximity mine,' and I'm getting the feeling they don't care if they trash this place." She highlights a few places not intended for climbing but sturdy enough to support the combined weight of man and armor. "Nothing here is critical, by the way. Break whatever you want."