"Does that fancy-schmancy armor of yours got warmers?" Asked a shivering marine, gazing over the ice-white armor of a Sangheili marksman.
"Warmers?" Rebutted the Elite in his rich, mellifluous voice, still eyeing down the scope of his beam rifle. The woman slung her rifle against her olive-green chest plate, crossing her arms in an attempt to stay warm. Snow drifted from the sky, coating the ground and the trees in a fine layer of white. Patches of clouds hung suspended in the air; the gaps revealing the Milky Way high above.
"Yeah, warmers! Like a device or somthin' in your gear that heats you up, like a temperature regulator." Her eyes were eclipsed by a yellow visor and her mouth covered by mask, which didn't prevent her white breath from appearing in the air. "I mean- hell, it's got a shield generator of sorts!"
"You should be spotting for me, human." The Elite turned his head to the marine, annoyed by the nonchalant nature of his battle buddy.
"Ugh, yeah yeah, on it big guy. But next time, I'm sniping... you'll kinda have to show me how to use that beam rifle though." She knelt beside the prone Sangheili, setting her weapon aside before pulling out a rangefinder and laying beside the Elite. After many moments of awkward silence, the marine suddenly called out a target. "Movement on the left Scarab wreckage. Three-hundred meters bearing one-two-seven. Engage when ready." A few seconds passed before the sudden crack of the plasma round rang throughout the snowy canyon. "Good shot, battle buddy."
"This role is meant for a Kig-yar. I should be down there with a blade rather than sitting here with you, human. Do you ever stop making jokes or attempting to strike up a conversation in the slight instances we are not fighting?"
"I have a name you know! And no, I don't. It keeps me less stressed."
"My apologies, Amanda." The Elite scoffed, "I have a name as well, but as long as my title remains 'big guy' or 'battle buddy', your name will be 'human', as it has been."
"Fine, Reto 'Sramaee, or is it Srama?" Her head tilted to the side before returning to the lenses. "And no; you'll always be the big guy, big guy."
"It is Reto 'Srama, human. How did you know about the- nevermind."
"No problem-o, Reto! I have my secrets." Amanda chuckled to herself, earning a loud, disappointed sigh from the Elite. The pair overlooked what was left of two Scarabs, covering the forces that had entered The Citadel - a large towering structure that overlooked the center of Installation 00, more commonly known as "The Ark". The Ark was a Forerunner Construct World where the life-ending Halo Rings were built and, if need be, fired. Aircraft of various types circled overhead, ensuring total domination of the objective. Small aircraft such as Hornets - nimble human twinjet close air support aircraft - and Banshees - fast Covenant multirole craft, usually tasked with air support or air interception - buzzed low, whereas larger transport dropships like the human Pelicans or the Covenant Phantoms hung high. "So when this is all over, where are you headed?" She murmured, keeping a watchful eye over the quiet landscape. Reto stayed silent, appearing to do the same. After a handful of minutes, Amanda's radio crackled to life, breaking the silence between the already awkward pair.
"All stations - this net, this is Echo-Actual. All ground elements are to withdraw from the AO - break - Return to Rally Point Bravo for immediate RTB, out."
"That's us. Sounds like the battle's over, so let's not get left behind, big guy." The marine took off her yellow ballistics glasses and undid her mask, revealing her hazel eyes and very faintly freckled cheeks. Quickly, she shoved the rangefinder back into her pack before slinging her rifle and marching alongside the now upright Sangheili.
Back at the Third Tower, the remaining Elites and marines hopped into whatever Pelican or Phantom they could get ahold of. Reto stepped aboard one of the Phantoms, hoisting up Amanda before the doors closed. She sat down, looking at the foreign interior of the craft, examining anything that glowed or had an odd shape to it.
"Hey, sorry for getting chatty back there, Reto. I haven't slept well since, well since forever. And, y'know, The Flood..."
"It's alright, human; no need to make excuses. You've been tossing and turning in your sleep since we've met, and going through months - if not years - of nightmares, both literally and metaphorically, must be impossibly hard." Amanda wiped her face before staring up at the ceiling. Did an Elite just pity her? Sangheili were always negative towards humans unless under really special circumstances, and this seemed like one of those times. She stayed muted, slumping over before attempting to get a little bit of after-battle shuteye.
When she awoke, the marine was being carried off the Phantom by Reto, only to be set down in the enormous hanger bay that could easily hold a UNSC frigate. "Thanks, big guy. I guess I'll see you around, probably in the mess hall. I'm gonna offload and get some rest if you don't mind." The woman smiled, steadying herself and thanking the towering Elite before making her way to the temporary armory.
"Wait- human!" Reto blurted, making her jump. "If it would be preferable, you can sleep in my quarters instead of using a cot or bedroll like the past months. Maybe it will help your sleep situation." He mentioned before scratching the back of his neck.
"You- you'd do that for me?" She blushed, smiling widely. "I know we've been partnered for only a few months and have... maybe warmed up to each other, but I didn't think you'd be so caring."
"Although I might be cold, I do care for my allies. Now, I can lead you there once you have deposited your weapons and armor."
"Thank you, Reto 'Srama. I could seriously do with some sleep right about now." She took a step forward, stretching her arms out and hugging the Sangheili, minding his bulky armor. "I don't usually do this, but this is for all the times you've helped me, either in combat or like this, big guy." The Elite awkwardly raised his hands in surprise before gently patting the marine on the back. "Christ, you're like eight feet tall."