To say Connie's shaken after her run in with York and Delta is an understatement. Even though she's far from his distress beacon the memory of the wires trapping her, invading her sends a chill down her spine and makes her gag. Fumbling with the snaps of her helmet she yanks it off in time to cough up the blood she could still taste on her tongue. It's noise enough to draw unwanted attention but the memory of the attack makes her sick.

When she can breathe past the shaking in her core, the abrupt silence is enough to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. Gripping her helmet she holds her breath as she turns to look behind her.