Chapter 11

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The frigid expanse of Copper-9 stretched out before the crew of the UAS O'Bannon, a desolate wasteland devoid of life save for the relentless howl of the icy wind. With each step, the mercenaries moved with cautious precision, their weapons at the ready and their senses on high alert.

Davis, his brow furrowed in concentration, led the way, his eyes scanning the barren landscape for any sign of movement. Beside him, Chau meticulously analyzed the readings from her scanner, her expression tense with anticipation.

"Keep your guard up, everyone," Davis cautioned, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "We don't know what's out here, and I don't intend to find out the hard way."

As the crew pressed onward, a palpable sense of unease settled over them like a suffocating blanket. Each passing moment brought with it a mounting sense of dread, the eerie silence broken only by the crunch of snow beneath their boots.

Sinise, his smart gun at the ready, scanned the horizon with narrowed eyes, his senses honed for any sign of danger. Beside him, Coleman moved with silent determination, his rifle poised for action as he swept the area for potential threats.

The minutes stretched into hours as the mercenaries combed the frozen landscape, their nerves stretched taut with anticipation. But despite their vigilant efforts, there was no sign of the elusive enemy they sought.

"It's too quiet out here," Johnston remarked, her voice echoing through the stillness of the frozen wasteland. "I don't know about this, feels like we're walking into a trap."

Paulson nodded in agreement, his gaze sweeping the horizon for any sign of movement. "Stay sharp, everyone. We don't know what we're dealing with, but I have a feeling it's not going to be easy."

As the crew continued their sweep of the area, a sudden movement caught Davis's eye—a faint disturbance in the snow several meters ahead. With a silent gesture, he signaled for the others to halt as he cautiously approached the source of the disturbance.

As he drew closer, his heart hammered in his chest, his senses on high alert for any sign of danger. But to his surprise, what he found was not the enemy they had been expecting, but rather two figures huddled amidst the frozen landscape.

"Ms. Elliot? Tessa?" Davis called out, his voice a mixture of relief and confusion. "What are you and your drone doing out here?"

Tessa, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and relief, looked up from where she and J had been huddled against the biting cold. "We were investigating the crash site of the shuttle," she explained, her voice trembling with exhaustion. "Searching for... answers."

Davis eyed them warily, his suspicion evident in the furrow of his brow. "What are you looking for, Tessa?" he demanded, his voice carrying a note of authority.

Tessa held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, her expression tense but resolute. "We're just trying to help," she replied, her voice barely audible over the howling wind.

Cameron, his gaze hard and unyielding, stepped forward, his distrust of Tessa evident in his steely glare. "Helping, or sabotaging?" he challenged, his tone laced with accusation.

Tessa bristled at Cameron's insinuation, her jaw clenching with barely contained anger. "I don't know what you're talking about," she retorted, her voice tinged with defiance. "We're not here to cause trouble. We're trying to prevent something bad."

J, ever protective of Tessa, stepped forward, her metallic frame poised for action. "She's telling the truth," J interjected, her voice a low, mechanical growl. "We're just trying to find answers."

Davis regarded Tessa and J with a calculating gaze, weighing his options carefully. As a company man, his allegiance lay with the mission, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that Tessa might be hiding something. Still, he knew better than to provoke a confrontation with someone as resourceful as Tessa.

"Keep an eye on them," Davis instructed his mercenaries, his voice firm and authoritative. "But let's focus on the task at hand. We're not out of danger yet."

Tessa and J exchanged a wary glance, their faces betraying a mixture of frustration and resignation. Despite their best efforts to conceal their true intentions, it was clear that the mercenaries remained wary of their presence.

And so, as the crew of the UAS O'Bannon continued their sweep of the area, the tension between them and Tessa and J lingered like a dark cloud, a silent reminder of the precariousness of their situation. In the frozen wasteland of Copper-9, trust was a luxury they could ill afford, and each step forward brought them closer to the truth that lay hidden amidst the icy ruins.

The weary group continued to trudge through the snow-covered landscape, their breaths visible in the frigid air as they made their way back to the dropship. Tessa and J walked alongside the mercenaries, their presence a constant reminder of the uncertainty that loomed over them.

As they neared the dropship, Cameron spoke up, his voice cutting through the chilly silence. "Alright, Tessa. We're gonna need some answers. What shelters are around here?"

Tessa hesitated, her gaze flickering between the mercenaries, her distrust evident in the furrow of her brow. "There are a few places," she replied cryptically, her tone guarded. "The labs, the old city ruins, and a bunker."

Cameron's eyes narrowed, his suspicion deepening at Tessa's vague response. "And are there any survivors in these shelters?" he pressed, his voice tinged with accusation.

J stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "There's a community in the bunker," she offered, her words carrying a note of certainty.

Cameron regarded J with a skeptical glance, but before he could respond, Henick interjected with a disarming smile. "Well now, ain't that somethin'," he drawled, his southern charm taking the edge off the tension. "You know, Tessa, you strike me as someone who knows her way around these parts. Mind sharing a bit more about this community? It is a matter of life and death."

Tessa's demeanor softened slightly at Henick's approach, her guard slipping just a fraction as she considered his question. "They're families, like us at home," she explained, her voice tinged with resignation. "Just trying to make it through each day."

Davis, ever the pragmatist, nodded in understanding. "Alright, then. We're heading to this bunker," he declared, his tone authoritative. "J, lead the way."

J nodded in acknowledgment, her mechanical frame poised for action as she stepped forward to guide the mercenaries towards their destination. Despite the lingering tension between the two groups, they were united by a common goal: survival in the face of overwhelming odds.

And so, with J as their guide, the mercenaries set off towards the bunker, their footsteps echoing in the silence of the frozen wasteland. Ahead lay the promise of safety and sanctuary, but also the unknown dangers that awaited them within the depths of the bunker's labyrinthine corridors.

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