I am not a scholar and I don't believe in fate
Noah still wasn't entirely sure what his job all entailed. But, this he knew, fell heavily on his list of responsibilities. Morgan set up a time and space for the people of Halo to speak their concerns, wants, desires, troubles. He was the Chief of Public Affairs. In the future, as the Citadel bloomed once more with activity, he imagined that he will be sitting in the seat Morgan occupied, rather than beside her. One day, these will be his meetings to run. His problems to hear. His information to relay to the rest of the council and their warden. He shifted, looking somewhat uncomfortable sitting before the people.
He listened to Morgan's words. He looked out at the people gathered. He remembered sitting in their spaces, a child, with another Warden long gone and forgotten, speaking words of their bustling city and the needs of the people. Noah knew that Warden to have died out in the tundra, his entire expedition lost to the cold and snow. He couldn't remember much from the meeting except for people shouting. His own father had had issues with that Warden, he remembered, but the Olson man had always kept his composure even when angered. Noah knew that, if something happened here, he would need to channel that same sense within himself.
NOAH
