"Still alive. Thanks for the clean up, Spartan. Find anyone else?" 095 went in the direction of the voice, figuring it had come from the nearby cover. "Friendly approaching" she warned, so that instinct did not make the soldier shoot her. What she saw was a fellow Spartan, wearing black armor similar to her own, except that this one had a red visor. A second look determined the Spartan was female. She slid into cover with her.<br/><br/>095 now took the appreciation as a formality, confident that the Spartan hadn't actually needed any aid. "Petty Officer 3rd Class, Spartan-095. No other friendlies nearby. Noticed a green glow reflected off a building at our 3, a click or so out." The fact that this was a Type-33, or possibly a pair of Mgalekgolo, needn't have been said. Lola-095 kept things brief with Spartans, and even briefer with general infantry. "My orders were to rendezvous with any friendlies nearby - if your mission isn't classified, I can assist for now."<br/><br/>She didn't know what this Spartan was doing here, nor what generation she was. She wondered if her help would be accepted or rejected. If rejected, she would have to ask to be pointed towards any other friendlies that might require assistance. Regardless of this Spartan's decision, though, 095 would also have to ask for any comms frequencies that friendlies using to communicate in this area.<br/><br/>