Ch. 6 Darker Steps

Elara's visor displayed the feed from Niroth's sentry, and as the scene inside the ruin unfolded before her eyes, she couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and unease. The sight of the rows of primitive-looking computers and preserved bodies in their seats was both fascinating and haunting. The audible gasps from Albara and Seraphan next to her echoed her own astonishment.

The historians quickly fell into their natural roles, discussing the facial structures, unique features, and pieces of cartilage that were preserved in these bodies—a wealth of information that could never have been gleaned from mere skeletons. Their excitement mingled with a sense of reverence for the past and the stories these bodies might tell.

However, for Elara, the relief of an all-clear from the mold's presence was paramount in her mind. The potential danger that the mold posed had been a constant concern since their arrival on Paradisium G-148, and knowing that this section of the ruin was unaffected brought a sigh of relief to her.

The discussion among the historians was abruptly interrupted by Joran's commanding voice over the communications. His orders to enter the ruin and proceed with caution were met with a shared sense of eagerness from Elara and her companions. With a quick glance exchanged between Albara, Seraphan, and herself, they moved forward as a unit, stepping into the dark interior of the ruin. The cool air and the eerie silence enveloped them, and Elara's heart raced with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Inside the ruin, Elara's boots made a soft thud against the cold concrete floor. Her gaze swept over the rows of primitive consoles and computers that lined the walls. From an Aelorian technological perspective, they might have seemed rudimentary, but considering the achievements of another species, it was impressive to think that they had managed to reach this level of advancement at all. A spark of hope flitted through Elara's mind—what if some remnants of this species had survived?

As her companions focused on the preserved bodies, Elara's attention was drawn to the written characters on the consoles. Her gloved fingers traced the alien symbols, and she quickly activated her scanning device, capturing the writing and sending it to the Alphermeric Codex for translation. The symbols were unlike anything she had encountered before, but the challenge only fueled her determination to decode their meaning.

The Alphermeric Codex swiftly reacted to the influx of symbols and text that adorned the room. Its advanced algorithms processed the visual data and began providing real-time translations for some of the words, displaying them on Elara's visor as if projected into her field of vision.

"CAUTION," the Codex translated in bold letters, was accompanied by an icon that indicated a warning. The word stood out starkly against the aged surroundings, a clear indicator that the inhabitants had communicated ideas through written text.

"ENVIRONMENTAL," appeared next, hinting at the possibility that the facility was equipped to handle specific environmental conditions; however, the word was so vague that it could mean anything in this context.

"TEAM 1" followed, suggesting the presence of organized groups working within the facility. The implications of these words were tantalizing, igniting the imaginations of historians.

The live translation of these cryptic words opened up a new avenue of speculation. Elara knew that the more examples she gave the codex, the more of this civilization would be illuminated to her.

Her gaze shifted to Albara and Seraphan, who were absorbed in their own tasks. Albara's expertise in anatomy was evident as she carefully studied the bodies, her visor projecting holographic overlays of bones and structures.

"Look at this," Albara mused aloud. "The bone structure is surprisingly similar to ours—bipedal, opposable thumbs. It's fascinating to see these shared traits."

Elara listened as Seraphan's voice chimed in, identifying the sex of the bodies based on bone structure. "Two males and one female, and they seem remarkably well-preserved."

Albara nodded in agreement. "A dissection would give us more insight into their physiology and perhaps shed light on their evolution."

Albara's voice broke through the ambient sounds. "Commander, I propose that we take these preserved bodies with us for further analysis. They could provide crucial insights into the species."

The Thrasher commander, Joran Vyldari, paused to consider the suggestion. After a moment, he nodded in agreement. "You have a point, archivist." However, our primary focus is to locate the signal's source; I'll contact the pinfeather to see about setting these bodies as a secondary objective."

Albara's gratitude was evident in her expression. "Thank you, Commander. I'll make sure the necessary preparations are made to transport the bodies safely."

Joran went quiet for a moment, contacting the Pinfeather. After the conversation had ended, Joran looked over to Albana. Joran's stern demeanor softened slightly as he gave a nod of approval. "Very well. As long as it doesn't hinder our main mission, we'll proceed with your secondary objective as well."

Elara found reassurance in the Thrasher leader's willingness to accommodate their request. With a renewed sense of determination, Elara went about scanning the consols. While doing so, something stuck out to her: a small, dormant amount of power was still being supplied to these devices. Confused, she pondered for a moment before an idea came to her mind.

Elara's fingers danced over the interface of her visor, opening a scanner application to search for the elusive signal that had brought them to this mysterious place. She was well-versed in the nuances of various signals and frequencies, thanks to her training, but alien signals were a whole other problem. As she sifted through the data, a faint but recognizable blip caught her attention. The signal was weak, almost buried beneath layers of interference, but even with her EVA short-range radio, she could pick up traces of it emanating from within the structure.

Excitement welled up within her as she turned to the group. "I've found something. The signal that led us here is still present, albeit faintly. I believe I can pick up some of its transmission within the bunker."

Joran's attention shifted to her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Can you share the signal with us?"

Elara, stunned for a moment by the commander's full attention, quickly complied, using her EVA suit's short-range radio capabilities to broadcast the signal to the rest of the group. As they listened, the low hum of the signal filled the airwaves.

Joran's gaze then shifted to Niroth. "Niroth, can you trace this signal to its source?"

Looking at the Thrashers that her visor labeled Niroth, she was taken aback by how much, or well, how little, of that Thrasher was actually biological. Even with her surface scan still active, she saw an overimplementation of implants and biomechanical alterations; she couldn't help but imagine how all that might feel, and she didn't like what her mind conjured. The metalized Thrasher's visor blinked. After a mere couple of seconds, he nodded. "The signal appears to be originating from deeper below us, likely beneath that hatch in the center of the room." Not noticing it before, she thought his voice sounded a little strained.

Joran's lips tightened in a firm line. "Pathfinder, try to get that hatch open. Rest of the squad, stay on guard. Some of you watch the hatch, while the others maintain security at the entrance."

Pathfinder acknowledged the command and moved toward the hatch, her wrist console at the ready. The rest of the Thrasher squad shifted into position, their weapons at the ready. The tension in the air was palpable as they awaited whatever lay beneath the surface, a hidden truth waiting to be uncovered.

Pathfinder worked with focused determination at the mechanical locking system on the hatch, her gloved fingers deftly manipulating controls and buttons. She glanced down at her wrist interface, her voice steady as she reported, "This might be a remote lock. Burning it might be our best option."

Albana interjected, "You can't be seriously suggesting putting one of those charges so close to these preserved specimens, can you?"

Before anyone could respond, the entire room erupted in a sudden blaze of light. The fluorescent illumination flared to life, casting a stark brightness that contrasted with the previous gloom. The reaction was swift and instinctive—Thrashers raised their weapons, scanning the area for any unexpected threats, their readiness honed by years of training.

Elara let out a small yelp at the unexpected flood of light, her heart racing. The suddenness of the transformation had taken her by surprise, but the restored power brought the room to life in a way she could never have imagined.

As the lights flickered on, the primitive computers and consoles within the room began humming and buzzing, their screens lighting up with archaic symbols. Buttons blinked to life, and the air seemed to be filled with the sound of mechanical activity, as if the very heart of the ruin had been reawakened.

Joran's voice cut through the commotion, sharp and quick. "Niroth, did you—"

Niroth's voice overlapped with Joran's, a mixture of surprise and denial. "No, I—"

A mechanical stirring, like the grinding of ancient gears, emanated from the previously sealed hatch. The entire squad turned their weapons toward it, their eyes fixed on the massive metal door. The hatch groaned and whined, the sound echoing through the chamber, and then, with a deafening thud, it sat open, revealing a dark passage below.