The War Bus rumbled forward, the cold wasteland stretching out endlessly in all directions. The faint hum of the engine and the crunch of the tires against the snow were the only sounds breaking the silence. Inside the bus, the crew's focus was sharp.
The tension from Cassidy's revelation hung in the air, but there was also a shared sense of resolve. They weren't just chasing raiders anymore—they were hunting something far darker, far more dangerous.
A Conspiracy.
Cassidy's eyes stayed fixed on the map, her jaw clenched tight as if she was holding onto her anger like a weapon. Every now and then, her gaze would flicker over to Six, her expression unreadable.
Six watched her closely, his thoughts weighing heavy. He had always known Cassidy had a past, a history filled with loss, but now he saw that it wasn't just the caravan. This was a vendetta—a personal war she had been waging in silence for years. He respected that, even if he didn't fully understand the depth of it.
The War Bus turned off the main road, heading toward Horowitz Farmstead. The weather was bitterly cold, and the snow that had once seemed peaceful now felt like a cloak that hid danger. Six kept his eyes on the road, but every so often, he'd glance out the side mirrors, scanning the horizon for anything out of place.
They reached the outskirts of the caravan wreckage near Horowitz Farmstead in a few minutes. The area was quiet, too quiet. The farmstead was a few crumbling buildings and a few rusted-out vehicles. It seemed abandoned, but Six wasn't fooled. This wasn't the time to let his guard down.
Six tapped on the console to activate the intercom.
"Boone, Rebecca, scout ahead. See if you can spot anything unusual."
Boone's voice crackled over the intercom.
"On it. We'll check out the perimeter."
The two of them stepped out, disappearing into the snow-covered ruins. Six's eyes remained fixed on the horizon, his hand resting on his pistols.
Raul sat in the driver seat, keeping his fingers twitching near his pistol, his sharp eyes watching for any movement. Roger was also alert, his hand near his blade, ready for a fight.
Cassidy, meanwhile, didn't say much. She kept her attention focused on the road ahead, her mind clearly racing through what had happened, what was coming, and how she was going to end it.
Minutes passed. Then, Boone's voice came through the intercom, calm and measured.
"Clear so far. No signs of anything. We're moving to check the building now."
Six gave a subtle nod, signaling Raul to keep an eye on the surroundings.
"Copy. Be careful."
Cassidy suddenly stood, her fingers twitching as she checked her weapons. Her eyes flicked toward the others as if she couldn't sit still anymore.
"More energy weapons hit this caravan. Place has been picked clean."
She muttered.
"We need to find—I need to make sure whoever is doing this pays for what they did."
Six could sense the undercurrent of her words, the fury that was barely contained beneath her cool exterior.
Boone's voice came through again, now more urgent.
"Six, you need to see this."
"On our way."
Raul's hand went to the wheel, and he guided the War Bus through the narrow path, coming to a stop near the buildings where Boone and Rebecca were waiting. The rest of the crew quickly disembarked, moving into position. Cassidy's eyes scanned the building, her sharp instincts telling her that something was off.
They approached the building cautiously. Boone stood in front, weapon at the ready, scanning every angle, while Rebecca moved in closer to the door, her boots crunching in the snow. She crouched low, peering inside the darkened structure.
"Nothing yet."
She called back.
But as she looked back at the crew, her eyes narrowed.
"Wait. There's something on the floor. Looks like glowing blue blood."
Six motioned for the group to stay back as he walked over to where Rebecca was pointing. The trail of blood was smeared across the ground, leading to the door of a small shack. His hand instinctively gripped the handle of his weapon, knowing that whatever was inside might not be friendly.
Boone, who had been scanning the perimeter, gave a low curse.
"Something's wrong. I don't like this."
Six's eyes flicked between Boone and Rebecca, who both seemed on edge. Cassidy stepped up beside him, her eyes steely with determination. She looked down at the blood, her breath coming in short bursts from the cold.
"Whoever did this... they're still here. And we're damn sure going to find them."
Six didn't waste time. He nodded sharply to his crew.
"We clear this out fast. Watch each other's backs. No one moves alone."
They moved in, checking each building and clearing corners. Boone took point, with Rebecca covering the rear, and Raul standing guard just behind them. Cassidy, her eyes hardened with the ghost of her past, didn't wait for instructions. She moved swiftly and quietly, the rage in her eyes as much of a weapon as her shotgun.
As they approached the shack, the tension in the air grew unbearable. The door creaked as it was pushed open, and the faint sound of movement inside stopped them in their tracks.
Boone raised his rifle, ready for anything.
The air in the shack was stale, filled with the scent of decay and burnt ozone. Six's eyes locked onto the body in the corner—a Zetan, unmistakable even in the dim light. Its lifeless form was slumped against the wall, its thin limbs twisted at odd angles.
A faint blue bioluminescent fluid, likely its blood, pooled around it, glowing softly in the shadows. The sight sent a cold chill down Six's spine.
Rebecca let out a low whistle.
"Well, ain't that a surprise."
She muttered, nudging the corpse slightly with the barrel of her rifle.
"Didn't think we'd be dealing with little green men today."
Boone kept his rifle raised, his sharp eyes scanning the corners.
"Question is, who—or what—killed it?"
Cassidy crouched down beside the body, her fingers tracing the strange burns across its chest.
"Energy weapons. But not just any kind—this looks like a Gauss rifle damage, maybe even something more advanced."
Her jaw tightened as she studied the wounds.
"This wasn't raiders. Someone else got to them first."
Six's mind raced. Zetans weren't an everyday threat, not in the Mojave. He had encountered them before—hell, he had their weapons stashed in his armory—but a dead one turning up like this? That was new. And the fact that there was a clear energy weapon signature meant there were other players in this game.
Raul tapped his fingers against his revolver, his expression unreadable.
"So, we got a dead space lizard, a wrecked caravan, and a whole lotta mystery. What's next, jefe?"
Six stood, his gaze shifting toward the door.
"We follow the blood trail. If this one's dead, there might be more. And I want to know what the hell is going on here."
Boone and Rebecca took point as they exited the shack, their movements crisp and practiced. The rest of the team followed, scanning the snow-covered ground for more signs of trouble.
The trail of blue blood continued beyond the wreckage, leading them toward a cluster of hills in the distance. But as they neared the ridge, something new came into view—a faint glow, pulsing just beyond the rocks.
Six signaled for the group to stop. They crouched low, moving cautiously. As they crested the hill, the sight before them made their breath catch.
Nestled in a small clearing, partially buried in the snow, was a crashed spacecraft. The hull was scorched and torn, with thick cables and tubes hanging loose from a shattered hatch. Strange symbols lined the exterior, flickering erratically as if the ship was barely holding onto power.
And in front of it, three figures huddled together—more Zetans, still alive, their large black eyes darting around in fear.
Cassidy exhaled sharply, gripping her shotgun.
"Well, shit."
Six stared down at the scene, mind working fast. They weren't just dealing with a conspiracy.
They were dealing with something from beyond the stars.