Despaired mutterings rippled through the group as Vreta relayed what he knew. Freyr let in a shuddering breath and shook her head. “No, that can’t be…” 595 swore again, and whirled round again to address the plain clothes security who had taken up defensive positions around the lobby. “You four, with me. We’re going to the security office to sweep the route. The rest of you, cover the exits. Lets go!”

As the different teams departed, Freyr looked at Vreta, nodded shakily and sighed heavily. She patted Masgard’s arm as he stood looking concerned and surveyed the rest of the scientists. They were talking quietly in groups, loosely ringed by the bulky CraSec operators. Sergeant Thrace clanked forward, facing them. “Alright, you heard the lady; let's get you squared away. We’ll take the stairs up to your HQ.” He announced.

The division headquarters was only a few floors up. It was early evening now, and a weekend, so there weren’t many other souls about. Those that were had already received instructions to stay put and lock their doors. Other Babel security guards clustered at chokepoints, but let the mass of armed soldiers and scientists pass.

Freyr realised on the way up why they’d elected to head to the HQ rather than all hang around in the lobby. It only had two entrances - one either side of the spire. It also had strong rooms intended for unstable substances that would also stand up to severe punishment from the outside. The stairs brought them up into the main atrium, which branched off through decontamination stations to accommodation, labs and everything else. “Make yourselves comfy in the Lab 4, but don’t wander off.” Thrace instructed, consulting a holo-map.