Maine is quiet for a very, very long time. It doesn't take much to tell he man is deep in thought. Before this he had suspicions, but now? A confirmed ONI black op on a space station. A medical station. Kurt with rank and proven leadership abilities. Maine's eyes start to widen as the picture starts to form. The guards clearly meant for whatever Kurt is up to let him through because, when it came down to it, he looked the part didn't he? And really he can't imagine an ONI op that needed a SPARTAN overseer that could trump Freelancer and the pull the Director had except for SPARTAN itself.

Realization come to his mind races ahead and Maine's eyes narrowed.

"I won't be an object lesson for what happens with unsuccessful augmentation processes. The... modifications from my current posting have compensated for almost all of them. Still shaky as a gunner--" because he couldn't steal the armor that also served to stabilize his hands, "--but the hearing is a moot point now. I may be a washout but I don't need or want pity. I want to serve, Kurt. Like I was meant to. Insurrection, Covenant or something else, I am built to fight. Don't kill me off and take me from the few friends I have made just to let me gather dust. I won't be shanghai'd again for that end. I don't care what silver bullet ONI has. I am a damn soldier."

It is too much and as he talks his voice trails to a faint rasp. Clearly he is overtaxing himself and he doesn't care.