Valerie assisted in importing the data into the analysis matrix.
On the primary display, 3D models of the two fragments were rapidly taking shape. The traces of energy flowing within their interior—not physical circuitry, but solidified inside the crystals according to underlying mathematical laws—were so exquisitely structured that even Osiris, hailing from the wildly distinct technological path of the Warhammer universe, focused his complete attention on them.
"The foundational structural homology between Fragment A and Fragment B reaches 99.87%," Osiris clearly stated his preliminary conclusions, his gaze sweeping across the data streams. "The energy spectra match, and the core resonance points overlap. When the distance is less than five meters, a faint, exponentially increasing energy resonance can be observed, confirming a pre-programmed coordination protocol between them as interconnectable components of the same system."
Valerie recorded the notes while raising a query: "We currently only have fragments and lack both the completed assembly and those two specific species. Will our research be fundamentally constrained?"
"That is precisely the crux," Osiris brought up a data model. "Examining this from a technical perspective, how is this 'binding' implemented? Is it a psionic signature, or a resonance lock at the genetic level? Investigating these mechanisms is itself the pathway to understanding Xel'Naga technology."
He pointed to a complex energy node schematic: "For instance, the structure here demonstrates a clear resonance inclination toward specific frequencies of Protoss psionics, confirming the presence of a pre-set recognition unit." He then switched screens, displaying subtle data reactions to Zerg biological signals. "Whereas this portion appears to involve a more obscure interaction protocol related to the Hive Mind or foundational genetic architecture."
His analysis consistently pivoted around how it was achieved.
"As for its other capabilities," Osiris pulled up summaries of events in his memory flagged for technical inspiration, "whether it was once modified to drain specific psionic energies, or ultimately deployed to sever mental control and seal a specific entity, both indicate that its internal energy manipulation mechanisms possess exceptionally high plasticity and power output. It is a platform whose output depends on input and current configuration."
"Our immediate objective is to parse its foundational technological characteristics: energy principles, resonance mechanisms, and response logic to specific stimuli," he summarized. "Every discovery piecemeal reconstitutes its technological framework. Even if we cannot satisfy the pre-set activation conditions, understanding its underlying principles alone could yield breakthrough inspirations for our own technology."
His words carried only structured, clear goals.
Inside the laboratory, the scanners operated continuously. Osiris immersed himself in probing the mysteries of ancient technology, completely isolated from external disturbances. To him, the gravitational pull of knowledge spanning hundreds of millions of years carried by these two crystals was far more potent than any real-time war.
The hangar deck of the Hyperion hung heavy with a smell mixing Tarsonis ruin dust and radiation decontamination agents.
The old Confederate adjutant seized from the Dominion train—a silver column roughly two meters tall with numerous battle scars across its surface—was secured to a repair rack. Its optical sensors were dark and unlit, resting in a deep dormancy state.
Raynor stood before the adjutant, hands on his hips, a look of distinct frustration across his face.
He had tried all known universal backdoor commands, Ghost agent override protocols, and even entered Kerrigan's old clearance codes, yet the adjutant's system steadfastly denied access, its cold synthesized voice repeating: "Authentication failed. Access permission: Confederate Top Secret. Threat classification: Wanted Criminal—Maximum Level."
"Damned piece of junk," Tychus kicked the base of the adjutant with his power armor boot, producing a dull metallic clatter. "It really thinks it's something special. If you ask me, let Swann tear it apart and pry the storage chip out directly."
"Risk is too high," Matt Horner shook his head, pulling up an initial scan of the adjutant. "Its storage media and core processor feature a physical encryption burnout fuse. Forced disassembly is highly likely to trigger a data purge protocol. We don't just need the chip—we need the logs it decrypts and plays after 'authorizing' us."
Raynor rubbed his temples, his gaze sweeping across the hangar. His Raiders excelled at fighting, raiding, and dancing under the Dominion's nose, but work requiring delicate technological cracking was hardly their forte.
The pirates and hackers at Deadman's Port might have a way, but dealing in a place like that involved too many variables, and the cost would never be light.
"Perhaps," Matt cautiously suggested, "we could ask our consultant? The technical capabilities demonstrated by the Far Star Alliance are out of the ordinary. Since they have methods to handle Xel'Naga artifacts and Protoss technology, an old-era Confederate adjutant might..."
Raynor fell silent for a moment. He remained wary of letting Osiris—this mysterious "corporate consultant"—deeper into core Raider affairs, but right now there seemed no safer option. Having evidence right before his eyes yet remaining unable to touch it was infuriating.
"Bring him here," Raynor finally decided.
When Osiris arrived at the hangar, he merely cast a glance at the adjutant, pale blue optical lenses rapidly scanning its shell. Once Raynor briefly explained the situation, he nodded.
"It can be attempted," Osiris replied without emotional fluctuation, as though it were merely routine equipment maintenance. He requested that the adjutant be transferred to an isolated workshop with independent power and data interfaces.
Inside the workshop, Osiris did not even use any terminal aboard the Hyperion. He retrieved a palm-sized black box from his toolkit and connected its interface to the adjutant's data port.
Next, he raised his right hand. The bionic skin at the tip of his index finger slid open, revealing an exquisitely fine micro-probe that plugged directly into another port on the black box.
The process lasted less than three minutes. Osiris closed his eyes (or rather, his optical lenses momentarily dimmed), as if listening in silence. Only his slightly twitching mechanical fingers indicated he was engaging in a data stream confrontation unimaginable to outsiders.
The firewall designed for the Confederate adjutant might have been an impenetrable fortress to humans of this universe, but before a Tech-Priest hailing from the Warhammer universe—whose logic core had undergone the baptism of the Mechanicus Crimson Protocols and bore vast algorithms for cracking forbidden technologies—its encryption logic resembled a lock composed of crude materials, despite its clever structure.
Osiris made no attempt to guess passwords or hunt for backdoors. He directly parsed the underlying architecture of the firewall program, locating a "feature" within its self-consistent logic that barely qualified as a vulnerability: it was designed to guard against human intrusion, whether that human was a Ghost agent or a wanted criminal. The essence of Osiris's existence had long transcended the core recognition parameters of this defense mechanism.
Simulating an absolutely neutral, non-threatening "maintenance diagnostic protocol" signal, he bypassed authentication and entered the deepest memory storage sector.
His optical lenses illuminated once more as Osiris detached the probe. "Firewall cleared. All data decrypted and transcoded into standard formats. A backup file of the original Confederate key-lock structure has been saved separately." He pointed to the connected black box. "The content you require is indexed under the keywords: '72 Hours Prior to the Fall of Tarsonis,' 'Psi Emitters,' and 'Ghost Agent Report Nova-6'."
Raynor immediately stepped forward to operate the workshop's main screen.
When that long-buried, crystal-clear recording played—showing Mengsk's trusted military officers coordinating with Ghost agents to deploy psi emitters while callously discussing "civilian casualties projected in the hundreds of millions, but the Confederate core will collapse simultaneously"—the entire room fell into a heavy silence.
Irrefutable evidence.
"Thank you," Raynor's voice was raspy as he stopped the playback and saved the data under multiple encryptions. "You've been a huge help."
"Part of the transaction," Osiris replied flatly, beginning to retract his equipment. He possessed zero desire to pry into the details of political conspiracies; the raw data's structure was worth far more to him than its contents.
His attention was already drawn to the far end of the hangar, where Swann was bellowing loudly at several vehicle chassis.