Unknown Halo Installation at the edge of known space.Guam sat quietly, as his flagship- the one of a kind UNSC Bayonet-Class Sloop dubbed the Riposte- emerged from slipspace. Georgia's recovery beacon sent a signal from here, before it was lost on the surface of this structure. Guam wasnt fooled by the idyllic look of the strange blue and green donut shaped artificial installation. Analyses from surviving Intelligence Operatives declared it a quarantine planet, although it was exceptionally unclear why.

The Riposte made it's way to the atmospheric drop point. From there Guam would take one of the new YSS-1000 Sabres from the hangar to the old UNSC Intelligence base and attempt to triangulate just where Georgia's armor went. He gave one of his unit, Recovery Squad Beta, a bemused smirk as he was led to the starfighter as he listened to the young Ensign.

"...Circuit Ships are the future of war. Advanced Artificial Intelligences do all the piloting and navigation whilst there's more soldiers to fight Split-Lips."

Guam shook his head at the naivete of that outlook. "Certainly, but what happens when we have to fight our own ships? Have you stopped to consider what would happen when the bots begin to question why they are here? They'd do as we had and kill their gods and creators..."

"Commander Guam, you can't believe in that crap, can you?"

Guam shrugged. "Lot's of impossible things in this galaxy alone. Centuries ago, humans didn't think that intergalactic space travel was possible. Now look at us. Large scale military engagements with dedicated campaigns against extra-terrestrial forces..."

"Still. Space is different than hokey religions and outdated religious views..."

"History would argue otherwise, Ensign. An old writer from once wrote: 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic...' Why do you think the covenant hates us? I'd wager they see us a heretics and commiters of deicide."

Unfortunately, their talk was cut short as they stepped out of the lift and into the Hangar bay. It was time.

"I apologize about being unable to join you, Commander. But only your suit is equipped to handle whatever pathogen is locking the installation down in quarantine. But I am certain speak for all of us when I say we await your return."

Guam nodded curtly and strapped in. "What's my ETA, if I put it in auto?"

"Seven hours, give or take..." The Ensign said sourly. "Although you should probably try getting there faster..."

Guam could not help but chuckle sardonically. "Why? Georgia's not going anywhere and we're in the middle of nowhere. I'm going to take a nap." Before the ensign could object, Guam closed the cockpit, set the ship for autopilot to the drop coordinates, and got as comfy as possible. He didn't notice his form flickering slightly, as he drifted along to sleep as the ship plunged toward the otherwise idyllic landscape before him.