Vinh should’ve been with the other Spartans, she knew. They were making some attempt at mingling, despite towering a foot or more above the other after-ceremony attendees. Among all the other uniforms, their Navy dress blues almost fit in. There were some she hadn’t seen in years, and some she’d counted among the dead for decades. She doubted there’d ever be a time again when they were all together. But despite their effort to branch out, the giants still stood in a consciously strung-out group, clinging together like shy children, though some on the end conversed with one of the only figures to match their height—an Elite in burnished gold armor. Him, she wanted to avoid. And so she walked by herself.