Stepping through the door, the soft glow of artificial lighting dimly illuminates quietly humming machinery. Research papers, capsules, tubes, pipettes, and all manner of other items are scattered haphazardly on countertops, the floor, and all other available surfaces. Clearly the person running this operation isn't very well organized. An Arda Vosto in a lab coat scurries around shooing loose Pompaco Floro back into an enclosure. She pads toward you and gives you an inquiring look as you hear someone shout, "Just a minute!" from the darkness in the back of the lab.