Lt. Ryden Sylvax - The "Real" Cargo

[Ryden Kel]

((Approaching the Orion Perimeter, Drakos Prime))

Willow: All in one piece? Ready to move out?

Ryden glanced down at himself, taking inventory. No broken bones. No
fresh Grevad-related injuries. No cliff-induced medical emergencies.

By recent standards, that qualified as a success.

Sylvax: Somehow, yes. Let's not tempt fate by asking for a second inspection.

Leda: ::hushed:: Let’s see if we can find a more unobstructed view of the camp.

Willow: We’ll move along the perimeter, that way we aren’t as easily spotted.

Ryden nodded once.

Sylvax: Agreed. No reason to announce ourselves before we know what
we're looking at.

The group moved through the undergrowth, and Ryden quickly discovered
that the local vegetation appeared personally offended by their
presence. Evergreen branches snagged at clothing while thorn-covered
shrubs seemed determined to collect a sample from every exposed patch
of skin.

Still, the cover worked.

Eventually, Ryden settled behind a cluster of dense shrubs and finally
got his first clear look at the Orion encampment.

Orion 1: Can you watch your hand, idiot? You know what Onzion would do
to us if we dropped these?

Orion 2: ::eyes rolling melodramatically:: I don’t know, run crying to
Wora? Pout in his lab?

Orion 1: Sic Nysari on us, more likely.

Orion 2: Pfft. I could take her.

Orion 1: ::highest possible eyebrow:: Oh sweetie. I’d love to see you
try. But I’d be the one washing your guts off the upholstery
afterwards, so let’s just get all this crap packed and get going?
Apparently Onzion needs this stuff to soup up some targs next.

Ryden watched carefully as equipment was loaded into crates and
transferred onto waiting shuttles.

This wasn't a routine supply movement.

They were dismantling the camp.

Whatever operation had been taking place here was ending... or relocating.

More importantly, the Orions seemed remarkably unconcerned about
discussing names in public.

Leda: He… what the hell could be in that...? ::She turned to the rest
of the group with wide eyes::

Willow: They are grunts, likely working for another individual to
which they don’t ask many questions. Saves time that way. Yet, we do
have names. ::Haukea whispered them back to herself, hoping to
memorise them and prevent the names from slipping from her memory::
Onzion, Wora, Nysari. Onzion, Wora, Nysari. Onzion, Wora, Nysari.

Ryden committed them to memory as well.

Names had a way of becoming useful later.

Especially names people assumed no one had overheard.

Sylvax: More than names. ::He kept his voice low.:: We have a chain of
command, a scientist, and someone dangerous enough that even Orions
seem reluctant to cross her.

Leda/Ivalyan: Response

Willow: We can’t get much closer without running the risk of being
caught. However, we may do well at following them for a time.

Ryden continued watching the shuttles. The amount of equipment being
loaded was substantial. Too substantial for a simple withdrawal.
Something was worth transporting. Something important enough to
dismantle an entire operation over.

Sylvax: If they're abandoning the site, whatever answers we're looking
for may be leaving with them.

Leda/Ivalyan: Response

Willow: What do you say?

Ryden kept his eyes on the camp for another moment before answering.

Sylvax: I say we follow. ::A slight pause.:: Quietly. ::His gaze
shifted toward the nearest shuttle.:: We came here looking for
answers. Right now, those crates appear to be carrying them away.

Leda/Ivalyan: Response

Ryden's attention caught on a crate that had been left partially open
during loading. At first glance it looked like another container of
equipment. Then he saw the stasis canisters.

His eyes narrowed.

The transparent cylinders were packed in shock foam, each one filled
with color-coded vials and sealed data modules. Even from this
distance, the markings looked biological rather than mechanical.

Genetics. Biochemistry. Not power engineering. He felt his pulse quicken.

Sylvax: That's not mining equipment.

Willow/Leda/Ivalyan: ?

Ryden shifted slightly for a better angle. Several of the canisters
bore hazard markings. Others contained preserved tissue samples
suspended in amber fluid. One crate had a portable laboratory console
strapped beside it.

Sylvax: They're moving research.

Not resources. Research.

Willow/Leda/Ivalyan: ?

Below them, one of the Orions grunted as he hefted another container.

Orion 1: Careful with that one. Onzion said if those cultures get
contaminated he'll have our heads.

Orion 2: Better ours than Nysari's.

The two laughed nervously.

Ryden's stomach sank. Cultures. Not cores. Cultures.

Suddenly the Grevad attacks, the caves, and the Orions' lack of
progress all looked very different. They hadn't failed to eliminate
the creatures. They'd been studying them. Maybe even creating them.

Sylvax: Leda...::His voice remained barely above a whisper.:: Did the
Grevad exist before the Orions arrived?

Leda/Ivalyan/Willow: ?

Ryden kept watching the crates being loaded. If Onzion was evacuating
biological samples, genetic cultures, and laboratory equipment, then
whatever operation had been happening on Drakos Prime wasn't ending.
It was relocating. And if the research responsible for the Grevad
survived... The next creatures might not be confined to caves.


-----
Lieutenant Ryden Sylvax
Chief Medical Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
O240109RK1