10-11-2355 | 09:05
HARBOR HQ — Evidence Lab, Micro-Trace.
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Sera hates the lab coffee. It tastes like a printer's idea of bitterness. She drinks it anyway, setting four smart-gel lifts on the bench. Each one is gridded, tagged, and already sullen with dust from Helix Blood Services.
"Lifts one to four," she says for the room mic. "Starting with dock dust."
She peels the backing and presses the first gel to a pinch of gray. The matrix wicks particulates into the grid and flashes green. She slides it under the micro-SEM. Peaks resolve with elemental calls running along the bottom: Si, Ca, Fe, Mg. Trace. But the heaviest concentration is organic residue and insect exoskeletons.
Kaito stands at the opposite console, his dried seaweed hanging like a lazy cigarette. Three holo panes hover: city grid, quarry registry, and the usual side-scroller game. Colt, the team's skeptic, leans against a wall, arms crossed.
Ryn walks into the room, trotting faithfully at his side, settling by the man's heels when he stops.
Cole pushes off the wall. "Ryn. And the cute, maneating pup. Why is it in the lab? Did it smell the berries?"
"Hold the smack talk," Sera says, signaling Cole's dig. She taps Raman, pulling up the spectral analysis. "Boron that's a caprock sealant, pointing to the E-9 ridge. Old. But the organic profile is the key. Dax, you need to see this. The particulate profile is identical to the six blood bank attacks we filed last month."
Dax is not sitting. He moves to the console.
Sera continues, pointing to the spectral readouts. "It's a specific signature. The same portion of crushed Arctia berries, fine hickory wood chips, and dried hazelnut fragments from a river-flanking tree. The Rendling is following a specific, familiar river channel outside the Northern Range."
Ryn stands beside her, gloves off. Pylon noses Ryn's hand softly.
"Arctia berries require limestone and constant, high hydration, even though they grow all year round and climate doesn't affect their production," Ryn explains.
"That vegetation mix is unique to the tributaries at the base of the mountains."
Kaito flicks the registry, overlaying the borate location with the river data. "Tracing the river channel... Advanced thermal signature confirms an isolated structure miles from any kiosk or outhouse."
Dax brings the K-6 tablet up and taps the structure's icon. A single icon flickers on a lone house. He taps the house's tag, and the central holo fills with an archived news headline: Couple found dead, drained of blood; daughter, Lina, still missing. The victims are named: Mr. and Mrs. Vance.
Dax stares at the photo of the missing girl. A teenager, about sixteen. The data connects with his history. "The Rendling drinks blood, and it's returning to a place of familiarity," Dax realizes, his voice tightening. "In the field, we saw it learning, adapting its hiding and fleeing. This isn't a random latch." He recalls the Helix facility incident. "It didn't target Tamsin. It activated the bomb. Tamsin stayed behind to ensure everyone, including us and the civilians, got out, and minimized the blast damage."
Ryn slams his hand down on the metal bench with a force that makes the comms gear rattle. Sera visibly flinches, pulling her hand back from the desk edge.
"The Rendling is remembering. She's following the scent memory home," Ryn remarks, looking at Dax. "She was Lina Vance. Now she's this. If Harbor had its priorities straight, this would've been on my radar when it happened."
Dax reads the partial holo report. "Why isn't that in the reports? Why did the Helix filing just say 'unidentified Rendling target'?"
Ryn whips around, his jaw tight. "Because Harbor didn't care that a scared young girl became a Rendling. They only file the attack, Dax. The reports are unfinished."
Cole chuckles dryly, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Well, maybe if they spent less time coddling their pet subhuman—"
Ryn whips around to Cole, his gaze sharp and dangerously calm.
Pylon, sensing Ryn's acute distress, leans heavily against his legs and whines low. Ryn's voice drops to a lethal whisper, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "I see the intent behind your words," Ryn hisses at Cole. "I can freeze your brain with a thought, Colt. Don't insult what you don't understand."
Cole fires back, taking a challenging step forward, his knuckles tight. "You can't fucking threaten me like that. You try to interfere with my brain, you'll end up in a cage like the rest of your kind."
Ryn doesn't shift his weight, meeting the man's aggressive stance with unnerving stillness. A slow, chilling smile touches his lips. "A cage? My kind saved you from being in a cage forever. The kind of cage you're picturing? That cage would be a coffin. Don't confuse a service animal with a pet."
Cole's face darkens. He shoves the chair he was leaning on, sending it scraping loudly across the floor, and lunges forward, closing the space instantly. Ryn's eyes narrow, preparing to strike, but Dax moves faster, a solid wall of muscle suddenly between them. Dax clamps a hand hard onto each man's chest. Ryn's side, Cole's sternum, forcing them apart. "I've had enough of you two," Dax growls, his own patience shattered.
Sera quickly grabs the fallen chair, stabilizing it, her expression strained. "I swear to God, the next time one of you throws something, I'm clocking out. Focus!"
Ryn draws a ragged breath, his jaw tight. He pushes Dax's hand away with cold dignity. "I want him removed from the team. Now. He'll endanger all of us with his prejudices."
"He's not wrong," Kaito adds, sighing and lifting his hands in a gesture of neutrality as Cole throws him a savage glare. "His personal issues shouldn't cost us a target."
"Well, I make the decisions." Dax counters, his voice low and uncompromising. Ryn frowns, gazing at him, a flicker of betrayal in his eyes.
Cole laughs, a harsh, humorless sound, spitting the words like venom. "He hates your kind just as much as I do, Ryn. Don't think your leash is any longer than mine."
Dax flinches visibly at the low blow, taking a tight, slow breath. The room falls silent as everyone waits for his final word. "We have the location. Listen up: Cole, you are benched for this op. Head back to the dropship." He locks eyes with Ryn, a silent promise or apology passing between them.
"Whatever." Cole mutters, adjusting his tactical belt as he heads for the door. "I want off this team."
"I'll send the memo to Han," Dax adds, his voice flat. Cole stops in his tracks and turns, mouth poised to say something, but he just shakes his head, an expression of disgusted resignation, and exits without another word.
Irie, who hadn't even looked up during the exchange, confirms from the doorway, already gloving up. "Glycol explains his taste complaint. Get me a vial for later. The concentration should be higher in the target's internal organs."
Sera, still rattled, quickly packs the gels into a case. "Secondary lift on arrival. If the berry concentration spikes inside the structure, it's using it as a den."
"It's not a den," Ryn says, pulling on his gloves. "It's home. We move on it before it gets hungry again."
Dax meets Ryn's eyes. "We need a plan of action, Kestra."
Ryn shakes his head once, heading for the door. Pylon rises instantly, following Ryn's every move. "I'm Harbor's weapon, Dax. You already know what I can do. Make the plan and brief me on the way."
Ryn blinks, nods, and goes, Pylon trotting faithfully at his heel. Sera kills the scope and follows the others out, the image of the lone house hanging above the northern mountain range.
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