Rose approached a pod, eyeing its dull contents. "Yknow how the PPC's always strapped for cash? Well, back in nineteen-ninety-whatever-the-shpx, somethin' like this – " she gestured at the pod – "was their solution."
"The whole thing's funded by lootin' stuff from missions, yknow. So obviously, someone, some day, had the bright idea to mass-produce the dang things. What they grew in there was..." She gave the pod a couple taps, making its contents jiggle around a bit. "Not even people, not even anything like people. Just empty shells to fit in a contrived plot and get killed by agents, as an excuse to loot half the continuum every time."
Rose turned back to the pair, keeping her face carefully neutral. "Eventually, people caught wind of that, and that whole branch got kicked out of the PPC. They kept going, though. Mostly for revenge or somethin', I guess. Started making these things actually dangerous, actually halfway smart. Weapons for their war against the PPC, and true to their roots, against anyone else standin' in their way."
As she continued, carefully enunciating, she eyed the door the group had entered from. "What I'm wondering is... There's supposed to be Flowers running the place. Where are they?"
((Understandably, Rose may or may not be a bit of an unreliable narrator in these circumstances.))