Time to buckle down on some stuff.
“Anybody got a suit that’s still got a working translator?” Tobias looked around, grimacing at the irregular chorus of head-shakes. Apparently the Euros had cannibalized all the ‘useless’ circuits and chips from their suits, too. And why not? He snorted. Everybody speaks English up here, because we won’t speak anything else. “Well, maybe we’ll find somebody who does speak it. Until then… we got a trail to follow, Buckley?”
Buckley was crouched over some of the furrows. “…Yes, I think we do. It’s faint, but our, ah, suits can track them. We’ll need to take it slow. Nice and careful, no messing around.”
“Understood. We’ll proceed until we find somebody. Squaddies up front, and we all keep together. Buddy up, and yell if your buddy’s gone, even for a second.”
“Understood, sir.” Reithner paused. “Assume hostile intent now, sir?”
“No,” Tobias responded, “but be prepared for it.”