The Yellow encampment answers as many questions as it raises.

The most curious part was that the vibe here was overwhelmingly... civilian. Academic, even. From closer angles it could be seen that those rubbery robes had numerous small details and elaborate fractal-code badges, but there did not seem to be any clearly defined internal hierarchy. There was a great deal of small talk, both verbally in what seemed like at least three distinct languages, and optically, in tight-beam optical laser communication. Some stood on boxes and gave lectures. The atmosphere was a combination of camaraderie, rivalry and paranoia. 

Detailed scans are not safe in this environment, though. There is far too much uncertainty about the hidden capabilities of the robed aliens to take the risk. 

The most obvious thing that is under here is the alien vehicle pool. One hundred heavy armoured vehicles await in various stages of maintenance, armour plating stripped away to reveal the mechanics underneath. This area at least answers a mystery about the alien spheres: they [i]transform[/i]. In order to deploy weaponry or other assets a sphere will split open in order to reveal a central cannon or other device. While some warspheres have obvious use as heavy combat vehicles, a quarter of them have more unusual designs that involve webs of heavy tubes dangling from the bottom.

The second thing of note appears to be an arsenal of relics. These defy description - devices of all shapes and sizes, weaponry, jewellery, ever-shifting fractal patterns contained in stasis tubes. These devices are not exactly stable either - many of them seem to require ceaseless maintenance, attention or ritual. There are few commonalities amongst them in either design or style; each piece seems a one-off with its own bespoke care routines and handling protocols. 

The third area is an alchemical lab. This is set up for local production; materials go in one end and potions, formulae, and other compounds come out the other. This is a highly advanced system, blending biotech and various kinds of magical processes tightly together, and the output is large racks of chemical rations that are sealed inside logistics spheres. Some of the area is given over to research but this seems to be happening in an undirected and idiosyncratic way, mostly looking at the local flora.

Finally, and most unexpectedly, is the [i]computer[/i]. After the utter aversion to electronics such a thing seemed impossible, but - well, here it is. There is no electricity running into this device - even here they don't make that compromise. Instead this seems like a manically advanced inheritor to a WW1 battleship fire control computer. It's an elaborate Rube-Goldberg machine of clattering gears and clockwork and spell runes, it's the size of a small house, and attendants move along it, performing observations and maintenance constantly. It outputs reams of paper which are collected, bound in dark orange folders, bound with string, and carried away to different parts of the compound.

All of this, though, raises an interesting question. What are they hiding?

A huge amount of the material is visible just by coming inside and walking around. And all this stuff is secret, but once you're inside few additional steps are made to keep it secret. And yet there's a constant wariness and watchfulness on behalf of the saffron-robed aliens. It doesn't click for a while that what they're keeping secret is their own personal identities.

There are several seemingly empty curtained-off areas throughout the facility. From time to time groups of three to five will enter one of these areas together and disappear behind a wall of sensor baffles. Then they will emerge, and when they do, their physiologies have changed. The short have become tall, the inhuman have become human, and the patterns on the robes are different. Either they are performing secret teleportations behind those screens, or they are altering their physical shapes beneath the robes so that their silhouettes are different. Trying to watch any individual is like playing constant shell games where they are randomized and randomized again.

They're [i]afraid[/i] of something.

[Friction roll: 1. An Azura counterintelligence asset has been activated]