It's hard to get your bearings in an unfamiliar ship. It's even more difficult to do so when you're constantly getting chased by monstrosities or invisible threats and if not for the reason behind the distress beacon her suit picked up, Connie would be glad for the reference point of something solid she could aim towards. There were only a handful of people who could be sending it out, all of which she isn't willing to lose.

Working her way through the hallways with short sprints and careful teleports she fumbles to a stop when she turns a corner to see the source of the beacon. York's armour is painted red with blood, and for a moment she can only stare in horror as a shocked whisper escapes her.

"Oh god, York..."