She huffed. Taerys was fast enough; if the colony was close by, she'd have found it by now, there had to be something going on. Maybe she'd been killed, maybe there was a threat after all. This was why she hated missions like this, these mystery-solving gigs were out of her comfort zone, too many variables, too many stupid risks. She wagered they could have been practically finished dealing with the bandits if they'd have chosen that route, instead, they were saddled up here, in the middle of nowhere, with their superior officer on his ass, their pilot injured, no field medic, and their primer infiltrator without any form of communication.
Part of her hated Claire in that moment. The flat-faced, mannequin woman. Then again, if they didn't do this, who would? This was what the Dawn did, the jobs people in black ops were too cold-footed to touch, or that other authorities wrote off. They were here because they were the best, whether their talents were being squandered or not.
Oh, right, Six had said something, asked her a question. She turned her head to him to convey some form of acknowledgement, but was still turned towards the distance. "None. We're blind and deaf till the cat gets back."