He's silent. It's a very long silence, for how little time actually passes. The Chief doesn't want to get into this, it's a goddamn mess. He can only guess how someone will react to this, but he's sure the answer is "badly". Because it's bad.
"This is treason."
They both know it, but it has to be said. Even disregarding the difference between worlds here, there's enough similarity for this to be dangerous information.
"This is also personal as hell. I don't want to talk about it. But we're not going to get anywhere if I don't. So."
Wash doesn't know how deep the hole goes, or how big the creature is lairing there. He can't even guess what he's skeptical of here, he's acting accordingly, and that feeds into a frustration that makes this dangerously satisfying.
He won't talk, and he's bringing collateral. Wash wants to do this? Then fine.
Let's fucking go.
"The Spartan-II program produced surgically augmented elite soldiers to protect Earth and her colonies from insurrectionist attack."
That's the first indication that something doesn't add up here. The Covenant was the wolf at humanity's door for almost three decades. The bombings of the years prior were practically forgotten when the first planet was glassed. Veterans from those days are grey old men, now.
How old is the Chief?
"We're fast, we're strong, we have reinforced bones and eyes that can see in the dark. We wear kit that puts enough force on the body to kill an unaltered operator. Spartan-II was a success story."
That's already more than most people know. That busts the popular Spartans-are-probably-cyborgs explanation.
"Spartan-I, Orion, wasn't. The augmentations didn't take. They figured out there was one key problem."
He hesitates for a split second at the point of no return, teeters on the brink, and then just tears the whole thing off.
"Orion used adult volunteers. So. Spartan-II didn't."
Wash wanted to know. Now he knows. There's a little bit of defiance there, an I fucking told you so that's clear enough unsaid.
"Questions?"
He'll hold his end. He decided to do this, and he's doing it.
no subject
"This is treason."
They both know it, but it has to be said. Even disregarding the difference between worlds here, there's enough similarity for this to be dangerous information.
"This is also personal as hell. I don't want to talk about it. But we're not going to get anywhere if I don't. So."
Wash doesn't know how deep the hole goes, or how big the creature is lairing there. He can't even guess what he's skeptical of here, he's acting accordingly, and that feeds into a frustration that makes this dangerously satisfying.
He won't talk, and he's bringing collateral. Wash wants to do this? Then fine.
Let's fucking go.
"The Spartan-II program produced surgically augmented elite soldiers to protect Earth and her colonies from insurrectionist attack."
That's the first indication that something doesn't add up here. The Covenant was the wolf at humanity's door for almost three decades. The bombings of the years prior were practically forgotten when the first planet was glassed. Veterans from those days are grey old men, now.
How old is the Chief?
"We're fast, we're strong, we have reinforced bones and eyes that can see in the dark. We wear kit that puts enough force on the body to kill an unaltered operator. Spartan-II was a success story."
That's already more than most people know. That busts the popular Spartans-are-probably-cyborgs explanation.
"Spartan-I, Orion, wasn't. The augmentations didn't take. They figured out there was one key problem."
He hesitates for a split second at the point of no return, teeters on the brink, and then just tears the whole thing off.
"Orion used adult volunteers. So. Spartan-II didn't."
Wash wanted to know. Now he knows. There's a little bit of defiance there, an I fucking told you so that's clear enough unsaid.
"Questions?"
He'll hold his end. He decided to do this, and he's doing it.