Inside the highly classified laboratory, Osiris was left entirely alone. Dr. Grace Augustine had been temporarily dismissed by him. A faint scent of disinfectant and alien blood still lingered in the air.
Osiris stood before the dissection table, staring down at the lifeless carcass of the Predator. His expression was calm, but deep within his eyes surged a sharp intensity that belonged to a warrior and a conqueror—a stark contrast to the exterior of this young scientist.
Through that trans-dimensional conscious link, he transmitted the initial report regarding the "Yautja Prime" complex back to his true self on Necromunda. Almost instantly, an even vaster, colder, and highly inquisitive consciousness surged forward like a tidal wave, seizing core control over this avatar.
Osiris's true self, the Magos Biologis who had endured countless wars and mastered dark sciences, had personally descended hither via his primary consciousness. He did not hesitate for a single fraction of a heartbeat, as if merely executing a routine laboratory protocol.
A scalpel materialized in his hand. With fluid, highly efficient motions, he sliced open the hardened skull of the Predator, exposing its highly developed brain structure that varied wildly from human anatomy. His focus locked onto a specific memory center, carefully isolating the tissue.
Then, after ensuring absolute psychic safeguards were deployed, he commanded the second avatar to ingest that small cluster of tissue laden with alien memories.
Instantly, a torrential downpour of chaotic, fragmented information saturated with blood and hunting desires breached his consciousness. The specialized organ derived from Astartes biology, known as the Remembrancer (Preomnor), went to work at maximum capacity—filtering, analyzing, and restructuring the foreign memories.
He witnessed an endless expanse of stars, a brutal society prioritizing martial prowess and honor. He experienced the entire lifetime of this young Predator serving as a Young Blood hunter: the rigorous training, the desperation for glory, and—its objective for coming to Pandora. It had arrived to complete its Rite of Passage by hunting a powerful Great Leonopteryx (Toruk), intending to claim its skull to prove its worth, just as its father had done two centuries prior.
The memory fragments flashed with scenes of the Pandoran jungle, where Celtic had lain in ambush, tracking and seeking traces of the Toruk. He also witnessed the friction between humanity and the Na'vi; those intense combat sequences had merely served as a metrics ruler to weigh the value of the prey in his eyes. He acknowledged the martial valor of the Na'vi and the technological power of humanity, deeming both to be "Honorable Prey" worthy of a hunt. Thus, the massacres at the outposts and patrol routes had manifested; those harvested skulls were the trophies intended for his collection.
The most critical asset of intelligence surfaced: Celtic had navigated to Pandora piloting a small, single-occupant starship. That starship was hidden somewhere on the planet!
The visual data within the memories demonstrated that the gear he currently wore was strictly utilized for the hunting trial, prioritizing cold weapons and basic active cloaking. Aboard his starship, however, sat his full suite of standard combat equipment as a Predator—including more devastating, longer-range plasma weaponry and other high-yield heavy armaments!
The spirit of Osiris's true self was thoroughly invigorated. An intact extraterrestrial starship and a complete arsenal of weaponry constituted a priceless harvest that rivaled the carcass itself. He had to secure these alien technological constructs!
The consciousness receded like a low tide, returning control back to the second avatar. Osiris opened his eyes, feeling the newly integrated memory fragments belonging to Celtic settled neatly within his mind, properly archived and primed for retrieval at any moment. He sanitized the scene, erasing every trace of unconventional protocol.
The next objective was clear: locate that hidden starship.
The metallic door of the isolation laboratory slid shut soundlessly behind Osiris, sealing the sweet tang of alien blood and the pungent scent of disinfectant inside. He stood under the cold lighting of the corridor, the customary mild expression on his face completely vanished, supplanted by a quiet, absolute focus.
In his mind, the memory fragments belonging to the fallen Predator, Celtic, gleamed like fractured shards of a mirror, projecting disconnected visuals: steep, anti-gravitationally suspended mountains, swirling mists, and a narrow, elongated silhouette radiating a cold metallic luster hidden behind a cascading veil of a waterfall. This information stream was rapidly sorted and integrated by his intellect.
Instead of returning to the main control room, he walked directly toward the communications center while delivering an even vocal command to the air: "Notify Maine's squad: all personnel to Condition One readiness. Simultaneously, patch an encrypted channel through to Colonel Quaritch."
A moment later, Colonel Quaritch's scarred, slightly impatient face materialized on the communications screen. "Dr. Chen? I hope you aren't bringing me bad news. Panic is already spreading like wildfire across the base due to that previous ambush."
"A latent opportunity, Colonel," Osiris cut straight to the core parameters without wasting time on pleasantries. "Our analysis of the unknown attacker has achieved a critical breakthrough. It can be verified that it is not an indigenous organism of Pandora, but rather arrived via a specific flight craft. We have... localized the potential concealment site of that craft."
Colonel Quaritch leaned his frame slightly forward, the impatience on his face instantly replaced by a razor-sharp focus. "A flight craft? Are you certain?"
"The confidence interval is sufficiently high," Osiris affirmed evenly. "This implies we stand to secure an intact specimen of extraterrestrial technology—including its propulsion system, weapons platforms, and potentially its communication logs, which could assist us in evaluating whether more of its kind exist."
Quaritch's breathing grew visibly heavier. As a professional military operator, he understood with absolute clarity what an extraterrestrial flight craft possessing potential cloaking capabilities and high-speed penetration metrics implied—both in terms of its threat and its raw value.
"Coordinates?"
"It sits in the perimeter of the Hallelujah Mountains. The coordinates have been transmitted via encrypted link." Osiris threw out the proposal for cooperation at the calculated moment. "Retrieving this target carries a baseline of risk. We require professional military support and aerial transport assets. In return, the RDA will secure a portion of non-core technological data, excluding the core flight control and weapons systems, alongside an opportunity to jointly study its power source. Simultaneously, this operation will serve to verify whether this extraterrestrial threat has been fully neutralized."
Quaritch hesitated for almost no time at all. The massive potential harvest, the necessity of eliminating an unknown hazard, and a developing reliance on the technical capabilities of these "Seekers of Knowledge" prompted him to make an immediate decision. "Done! I'll deploy an elite Hellfire detachment led by Sergeant Reynolds, utilizing my personal Samson gunship to provide the transport and fire support. Your people will handle the vanguard routing and technical support." He locked his eyes onto Osiris, adding, "I expect this cooperation to remain transparent, Dr. Chen."
"Naturally, Colonel. Our interests align." Osiris nodded slightly, terminating the transmission.