The 'Hawke's Transit ltd.' Had, as per their contract, delivered their find to a lab on Cambridge.
A computer core pulled off a derelict floating in the Magellan cloud, it looked like a recent work of destruction, possibly passing Leeds on its way to the Magellan jump hole.
But there was no sightings of the ship passing at all, and it looked like it had been torn and twisted, rather than shot apart.
Stranger yet was its cargo, goo.
Tanks filled with goo that seemed to serve no purpose.
The hawke group, a small transport firm running a single train were, for lack of better words, specialists. Personell and components, and seemingly to just the right location, each time. So it was little surprise they had scientists on board on their next run, who found they wanted to spend proper funds to get a hold of the archive they'd been allowed to pry open, lamenting their inability to be present for the actual find.
And not moments after the rather efficiency-obsessed family business had unloaded their cargo, decoders and other curious hands were all over it, words slowly sliding onto the screen.
Which, in all fairness, had a processor speed of 1880 computer tech.
Obscenely slow.
Hawke jr. himself, however, was currently part of the local university's research lab, as of his parents' incentive to know more than a little about anything and/or everything.
Which in this case, was an actual coincidence that he was allowed access to work on this peculiarity with his mentor and classmates.
////::Videofeed rendering.
\\:Runtime error: 0000993e
|Video corrupted|
Unable to play video: Noxian Research lab 037 log: in##%ent *(integermissing)*
Still run?
Y/N
Hawke's finger hovered over the keyboard.
Obviously, he'd want to run it, but he wasn't allowed to, not alone.
Anyone would do, as long as they had some sort of connection to science, bretonia and could help him confirm to his professor that he hadn't deleted anything (at least not intentionally).
That, and the police was supposed to drop by eventually, they'd manage to pry out info about illegal gene labs. And logs of alien organism transports, through breton, which was supposed to be restricted, at least to Swain Hawke junior's knowledge.
At any rate, Illegal research lab video feed? And he could only guess this particular highlighted section was a specific incident. Seeing as it was important enough to stow on a transport that didn't have any trace of ever containing a laboratory.
Too good to pass up...
One of these days, there will be a clever, stylish and/or funny signature here.
This is still not that day, however.