You walked in a loose, wary formation. Rudo led, his heavy boots crunching on the broken ground with a rhythm that was almost reassuring. Zanka drifted just behind him, eyes scanning the skeletal remains of old machinery that jutted from the earth like the ribs of a long-dead beast. To your left, Enjin was humming a tuneless, anxious little song under his breath.

The ground sloped downward into a shallow basin littered with the corroded hull of a massive transport vehicle. It was a natural choke point. Rudo raised a fist, and the group halted.