The smells and sounds of the house had become foreign, lacking the deep thrum of a starship or a station that normally lulled Juliette to sleep. She dozed, then woke, then meditated, then dozed again. As she awoke for the final time she groggily realized what she had gotten would have to do.
Unpacking the Biome took the better part of an hour. It was a small, dense shrub with short tangled branches clutching a dense nebula of deep green leaves bunched around mantis oblong pods, most of which were open to reveal an off-white orb inside. At the center of each orb was a red spot giving each the countenance of a baleful read eye. For its thick foliage and startling appearance, much of what made the Biome the subject of such intense scrutiny at Daystrom was not in the leaves or eyes, but in the fibers and microorganisms amid its roots.