trans_9 | Unleash the Podlings!

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Unleash the Podlings!

||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| Stacy announced to the denizens of the upper levels. Down the the Pod Caverns, familiar sounds made themselves known:

Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

Mist sprayed from the cracks in the pods before the new crew members were summarily ejected from warm, comfortable stasis to their new chilly, damp reality. They'd either meet each other in the Caverns or in the upper levels, where the previously popped crew would also be waiting for them, if Stacy had anything to say about it.

This time, there were two pods spitting mechanical beings out of a more oily mixture, and one podling who was significantly smaller than most of the others.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.

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||Because you have been Chosen.||

With a capital 'C' and everything. Be proud, John. You're one of...well, okay, from the number of pods on the walls stretching out into the distance, you're one of millions, possibly billions, possibly even more people.

John's been chosen for something before, it involved being abducted at age six and being raised in the military. He didn't like it much at the time. He's liking this even less.

"What do you want?"

There's probably no use arguing with this thing, so for now he'll let the AI boss him until he can do something about it. Preferably that something involves getting out of this place, wherever it is, and contacting the UNSC.

Stacy's not that big on the podlings choosing stuff.

||I have no particular desire at this point in time.||

No, no use arguing with her. There were a surprising number who tried, though.

"Then what do you advise?"

He can always ignore it if it's suicidal, after all. Like going through a Forerunner Library infested with the Flood. That one turned out really well, didn't it John?

||Would you like clothing?|| Stacy asks. Most of the podlings did, eventually. But there were always exceptions!

"Yes. I would prefer my armor, but yes."

He doubts this "Stacy" will take the hint, but he's frustrated and nervous and it would be very nice to have something between his skin and the thin air again. Ridiculously nice. Nice like whoah.

Fleshy pustules on the floor at his feet light up, leading off through the caverns.

||Please follow the lights,|| Stacy instructs him. If she got the hint about his armor, she's not saying anything about it.

The Spartan starts walking along the light trail on the floor at a steady but not quite brisk pace. He keeps scanning the way ahead with his eyes, hunting for movement or other possible signs that something might try to jump him. He's painfully aware of how much easier he'd be to ambush unarmed and unclothed.

The walk is a long one, and spirals upward through the caverns, but nothing attacks him. If he looks very closely at the pods on the walls, he might see the shadow of a limb or a body, but no details.

It finally ends in front of a cylindrical room, completely empty except for some sort of vines hanging from the ceiling. There is only one door.

||Please step into the middle of the room.|| Stacy says.

Middles of rooms are generally bad places to be. Especially when the rooms, upon first glance, seem harmless. Or as harmless as rooms can seem in fleshcavernworld.

"What will happen when I step into the middle of the room?" he asks, eyeing said area warily.

||You will be clothed.||

That Stacy! Such a Chatty Kathy, isn't she?

And those vines are totally innocent looking. Totally harmless. Really.

That's... oddly specific and vague at the same time. But hell with it, his other options include standing around or wandering back to the pod caverns place and neither of those seems very promising. Also, clothes.

"Fine."

He steps forward into the middle.

TENTACLE ATTACK!

The "innocent" vines lunge for the Spartan, holding him firmly and wrapping him in a jumpsuit. It's vein-y and green, and feels like rose petals.

Rose petals with a pulse.

The tentacles wipe the slime from his face and hair before they set him back down. There's a strange, skittery feeling under the suit, where it is also working on cleaning him.

John's first reaction is to tense up, but it doesn't pull him or lift him so he doesn't fight as he is clothed, though this is entering realms of bizarre with which he is not familiar. It also appears to have a heartbeat- and is that movement?! It's a skittering sensation, but it vanishes shortly as the suit finishes cleaning him. All he knows is this is really creepy.

"What is this?" he rolls his shoulders a bit, stretches, shifts his weight, adjusting to the feel of it against his skin. It feels alive. And as far as he knows it might be full of alien mind control or some other breed of strange, and it's not armor. The jury's still out on if it really is better than naked.

||That is the podmate uniform,|| Stacy says. ||It will keep you clean.||

It will also contract and act as a bandage, as the other crew members had discovered. And it will leak fluid everywhere if you rip it.

Well, that was unexpected. Clean has often been the least of his problems.

"Podmates. Are there other people here?"

Okay, we may be on to something! It disturbs him to know that whatever has found him has also stolen others, but others mean a knowledge base of people that know a little more about the situation. And with that, it might be possible to plan.

||Yes. Many of the crew is assembled on the upper levels. Would you like to be taken to them?||

She could also take him to the Weapons and Possessions lockers. They were on the way. His armor wasn't likely there, but any small, carry-able objects he owned might be.

"Yes. Please."

Short, sweet, to the point. Also, slightly more polite. It's not killing him yet, and if Stacy continues to not kill him it will be a major improvement to how this last week has been going.

Or at least, this last seven days he's spent awake.

||Very well.||

Another trail of glowing pustules lit up, leading back out of the room to a massive spire in the caverns which reached from the floor all the way up to the massive ceiling. At end of the trail was a fleshy opening at the base of said spire.

||Please step inside.||

Okay, more lights. He follows them at a light jog this time, and peers at the spire with the same untrusting caution he's been regarding the rest of this place with.

Well, here goes. He steps inside.

And almost immediately after he steps inside, he is propelled upwards through the internet a series of tubes by an unseen force.

After traversing what seems like miles of tubes in a matter of seconds, John is let out at the living area.

||This is the Living Area. You are free to move about this section as you wish unless otherwise noted.||

Aaaaahhhhh what the-?! That was-?! HUH?!

The Chief doesn't even have time to figure that one out before he's released into the Living Area. Needless to say, he hadn't quite been expecting that. He jumps away from the tube, just in case. And there's more information from the voice. A living area?

"Understood." A liiiittle shaken, but not much. He's getting better now.

He looks up and down the hall, debates for a moment, and chooses a direction.

He'll be at the Obs Deck momentarily...

Useful link is linky and useful.

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