trans_9 | Mission 01 - Recovery: Group 5

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Mission 01 - Recovery: Group 5

Chief, Brainiac 5, Leela, Cale, Bri, Paco, Samus, and Allen took the fifth pod. The ground beneath their feet slowly became softer and more squishy, undoubtedly to the grave annoyance of those wearing armor. Marshland, perhaps? It was definitely something they should keep an eye on. Who knew if there was quicksand or something like it, and marshes were generally home to some not-so-pleasant creatures...

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"Yeah, I do," Cale says.

Furrowing his brow, he steps forward and closes in on the giant sphere, ignoring the Chief's warning to keep his distance. Once he draws close enough to it, he reaches out with his hand as if to touch the massive orb--with the thousands, maybe millions, of holes peppering its surface--but never actually does so. His hand merely hovers over the surface as he stares at it, completely engrossed by the object and begins to slowly edge his way around it, circling the entire thing and stopping only when he reached the point he'd started from.

"I think it's a bomb," he finally said.

"It doesn't look like one." After initially tensing up when Brainy and Cale approached it, he's decided that it's probably safe. Probably.

He walks over to it, taking care to look over as much of it as he can. If he's recording this anyway, might as well make the vid as useful as possible.

"Usually when something this size detonates, you never find the pieces."

The Spartan crouches next to it, getting a better look at the holes and the place where the pod meets the ground before glancing out at the size of the faded crater's radius. It's definitely starting to be swallowed by the plants again, but he can still make it out.

"This fell. From very high up." He stands, nodding at the base of the pod. "See how it's embedded."

"If it is a bomb, there's nothing to indicate a detonator," Brainiac 5 remarks, face intent as he reads the information his scanner reveals. "All I can tell you is that it's largely solid, though there appears to be a small compartment at the core and what I think are-" He frowns at the read-out. "Micro-channels leading to the holes..."

He glances up. "It's almost like some sort of corrosive substance ate it's way in. Or out."

"Maybe No-butt's right about it being a weapon, but not the kinda bomb that goes boom," says Leela, kneeling down near it to get a closer look at the little holes.

"Ancient history. In 184 B.C, Hannibal of Carthage had his soldiers fill clay pots with venomous snakes and toss 'em onto the decks of Pergamene ships. The city of Hatra, in about A.D. 198, used it, too. Clay pots filled with live scorpions. They tossed 'em at the Roman army led by Septimius Severus."

She points to the pod.

"Clay pot."

She looks at the holes.

"...Tiny, tiny snakes. Well, not snakes, but, y'know, something bad. Maybe came out of it."

"She's on the money, by my theory. This looks like the work of nanites."

Allen points to the underside of the craft, on which the holes are as evenly spaced as above. "Check it out. Snakeholes - or botholes, if you will. It would've been more energy efficient just to have one exit, but this way, if one exit gets blocked, no big deal, there's a million more. Corrosive substances would have just eaten the bottom out."

He scans the area as he speaks. "I'm not picking up any signals from live models in the area, just energy signatures. They're all long gone, whatever they were."

His curiosity satisfied, Cale turned and started back toward the group. "They were probably released into the atmosphere during entry. It was probably already empty by the time it impacted."

Once he rejoined the team, he glanced back at the massive orb, overgrown with wildlife. "Which is probably a good thing. Because if we go by his theory--" He pointed at Allen. "--and it didn't 'detonate' until after impact, then there's probably still something left of the pay load behind the openings that were blocked."

Leela backs away.

"Leeeet's move away from the possible weapon now."

The Chief nods once at the mentioning of Hannibal of Carthage. He knows that story, the Spartans studied it once.

And backing away? Possibly a good idea.

"Then do it," says the Chief. First instinct is to keep the rifle on it, not that it would do much good, as he steps away.

"Allen. Define "nanites". I haven't heard the term."

Whatever it is, it sounds like it can chew through metal. If it can chew through metal, he can't really say he wants anything to do with it.

"Microscopic robots. I have a few in my bloodstream, actually. I designed them myself."

Why yes, he is proud of this.

"Also known as nanorobots, they can fulfill many purposes, like regular-sized robots. Weaponry is only one application. Personally, I think they're a lot more useful for the purposes of healthcare, but you get people thinking, hey, wouldn't it be great to build some self-reproducing matter-disseminating machines that are too small to be seen by the un-assisted eye and can reproduce too fast and too widely to be eliminated before their uses as a weapon take effect . . ."

He's still scanning the area. "I doubt that matter dissemination was the primary focus of this particular model, because the trees in the area are too well-grown to have returned to this size in the time that it would have taken them to regrow from scratch, given that the pod itself is still largely intact and easily visible without excavation, but I could be wrong. These trees could grow very fast. Even if this were the case, though, I doubt we'll be in any danger if we don't disturb any potential remaining nanites. If they were still active in the area, and their purpose WAS matter dissemination, there would be no plantlife around us. Just gray goo."

Pause.

"Unless they're specifically programmed to wait for organics of the non-plant variety."

Pause.

"Of course they could be for an entirely different function as a weapon. They could be programmed to break down biological systems more elegantly, unzip the genes, block organ function and such, but if that is the case, we'll know sooner than feel the effects. My nanites are programmed to circulate through my body and report all abnormalities to my cerebral cortex. If there's anything foreign getting into my bloodstream, I'll know."

"...When exactly did you turn into the Six Million Dollar Man?"

"Baby, I've always been the Six Million Dollar Man. This kind of brilliance doesn't go for cheap."

Unzipping genes and blocking organ functions?

"Permission to get the willies?" Paco asked, eyeballing the nanite bomb thing. He hadn't gone too close to it, remembering what Peacemaker had said about putting your hands in alien coffins; and he was pretty sure the same thing applied to alien weapons.

"Thankyou, Allen." That sounds bad. Very very bad. As in "thank God nobody gave the Covenant that idea" bad.

"Granted, but make it quick," he tells Paco. "We still have a mission to finish."

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Mission 01 - Recovery: Group 5

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