Owner	Pose
Michael Erickson	Trash bags and electrical tape. That's what the obvious corpse that Michael Erickson carries through the halls of the underbasement - let in by Rogue, it isn't as if he hasn't seen the place before. Just far less energy weapon fire and people getting shot in the face.     He walks up to the door of the lab, having been directed, and with a strong hand raps upon the hatch three times before taking a step back to wait and see if, in fact, the Doctor Is In.
Henry McCoy	The door is answered, in so much as Henry calls over. "Come in!" He's seated at the workbench, working on some electrical doo-hickey. Science! Various diagnostic devices are connected to the clearly alien tech. Heck, Michael might even know what it was! The item in question, was a gift from Carol Danvers last year and Henry was still sorting out the specifics of what it was. Assuming Michael enters, Henry glances over. His smile twitches a bit at the sight of the body-shaped item wrapped in garbage bags. "Dare I ask?" He wonders, eyes going to the other man.
Michael Erickson	Michael enters without saying anything at first - strong enough to be able to tote a corpse as if toting a bag of socks. "Funny story that," he says, stopping on the other side of the door as he surveys the room with a faintly wary, sharpened eye. "Found this while surveying Jupiter. Got a slab I can park this present on? I think you'll be intrigued."
Henry McCoy	The man sets down his tools, nodding as he motions to one of the examination tables. "Over there, if you please." He says, getting up from the stool he had been parked on. "I... Jupiter? I don't know how much I can help, Xenobiology is not my strong point, but I am more than willing to offer some thoughts." A grin. Alien biology to study? Henry is clearly interested.
Michael Erickson	"I know, right?" Michael chuckles as he takes the body over to the indicated table, laying it out - when it lands it lands heavily, weight and clanking metal on the table's allow. "It's an interesting case. I found that appears to have been a refinery in upper atmosphere, suspended by some form of antigravity unit. Wasn't able to recover that, though. Had to send the thing into the planet's lower atmosphere to be safely pulverized by gravity." Such things to say!     Michael's about to say more when he pauses to squint across the way at the device connected to the probes which Hank was toying with. "Oh," he says after a moment. "Spartax transtator core. Where did you get that thing?"
Henry McCoy	The Beast hrms, still wearing his reading glasses. Inspection of things up close require those specs! He looks to the other man, hrming. "A refinery on Jupiter? I am assuming it wasn't from Earth." The man chuckles, tapping on the touchpad affixed to the table. Lights pop on, ready to analyze! A look over to where Michael was glancing. "Oh... a what?" He blinks. "That was a gift from Carol. I got it as a birthday present. A Spartax transtator core? What does it do?"
Michael Erickson	"Well...the Spartax are another of the races elsewhere in this galaxy," he says, reaching into his belt and coming up with a long, narrow blade made of what looks to be for all the world a piece of dull, frosted crystal. Begins separating the plastic, which gives as though it were white hot. Rather terrifyingly efficient with the knife, too. "I'm not an engineer or a scientist, mind you, but transtators are sort of like the quantum version of an electronic transistor from the 1950s on this planet, with all the same world-changing potential. Essentially, it's a nest of quantum switches that react to power currents piped through it."     As he opens the bag, the contents can be seen: a thing that once was human, male, and ashen pale - a slightly bluish tint to what was at some point Caucasian skin. Bloated devices stud the corpse, made of a dull, faintly greasy green metal; one leg is replaced with a weirdly insectile limb, and the entire right arm has been replaced with a series of jointed sections that serve as a new limb, its ovoid 'forearm' covered with manipulators of different types (most of which have been twisted or otherwise damaged.) The thing's end seems to have occured from a savage raking of claws across its torso; the open thorax reveals more exotic components of the same green metal inside, much of which have been rent open. Must have been a Hell of a 'bear' it ran into.     "I'm not entirely certain," Michael says, "But this and others operated sort of like robots. My companion at the time said the complex belonged to a race called the Badoon, but she didn't know much about them."     He clears his throat and eyes Hank then. "That transtator's way too big to be modern," Michael offers. "Likely a serious antique."
Henry McCoy	A low whistle from Henry. "Fantastic... if I could get it to work with our tech, I imagine it's far more efficient and potent than our current tech." He beams. Then it's on to business, looking over the revealed cadaver. A slight face at the obvious modifications. "Biological drones, perhaps? It looks... cobbled together. Perhaps a hodge-podge in order to suit the needs of the creator?" He fetches a few tools, mostly to poke and prod at the thing. "Do you have any idea as to the origins of the biological components?" A set of tweezers motions to the greenish metal. "Or the non-organic components?" He wonders.
Michael Erickson	"Mmm." He looks back at the corpse with a chuckle. "Well, Spartax technology is a bit brute-force in my opinion. Hope you won't have trouble with it - Shi'ar utilize crystal processors with unstable molecular switches. Crystal is stable on the outside, but is full of oscillting matrices that you can manipulate with the right power systems. Good deal more delicate, though."     Michael gestures the manipulator arm. "This is all I really got to see in action before taking this one down," he explains. "Others had cutting beams of some sort, torches, that sort of thing - this one swung its arm like a mace. They're hardly combat-capable, though. You can see where I carved it open with a swing."
Henry McCoy	There's a nod, the man focused on the creature on the table. "I'll keep that in mind about the transtator." He smiles, hrming at the puzzle before him. "This seems so odd, though. Biological pairing of disseperate beings to make this one, or augment this one. And bionics augmentations too." A hrm. "Were they working the refinery or on guard there?"
Michael Erickson	Michael shakes his head. "No," he says, "It looked as though it had been up there for like, four, five hundred years. When we found it the thing was on its last legs. Fusion reactor giving up the ghost, power to its defenses already long since gone."
Henry McCoy	The man frowns. "And no indication as to who might have built the reactor? It stands to reason that the creator may have had their hand in creating this." He's clearly hesitant to touch the corpse at the moment. "And... drat and bebother." He reaches for his scanner, checking for any dangerous levels of radiation, toxins or any other concerning biological issues.
Michael Erickson	"Well as I said," Michael reminds him, "My companion said the platform was made by the Badoon. I'm going to look into that, and see what I can come up with. No idea what it was creating, but it /seemed/ as though it was a purely industrial affair. No weapons short of defense turrets to ward off pirates or scavengers. Totally automated."     The corpse's left eye has been replaced with that looks like a nest of black knitting needles, on what appear to be articulated mounts. Gross. The teeth have been long removed, and the tongue replaced with a hose that runs out into a device fused inside the thorax. Really. These people. It's both sloppy and grotesque. Tissue's magnificently preserved, though.     "Found them in sealed pods that opened when we were detected," Michael explains. "But we found one or two that were long breached. Bodies rotted away, so whatever keeps the tissues fresh must have been in the capsules."
Henry McCoy	The science of it is marvelous - but the torment and pain that must have been for whomever this was, is abhorent to Henry. He frowns even as he studies the work. "Just... seems like a terrible thing to do a being." A shake of his head. "I can run some tests, to see what I find out. What are you hoping to find out?" He stands up after affixing a few sensors to the corpse. "Do you have any files or data on the Badoon? It might help with researching this particular situation."
Michael Erickson	To be fair, the changes appear to have come post-mortem; whatever was done to it, the thing has been dead for a long time. Which...you know. Is probably worse.     "Never heard of them," Michael replies with a shake of his head. "Outside of the recent excitement I was mostly tasked to watch out for the Kree and the Phal'kon - er, the Phoenix."
Henry McCoy	Once some tests are queued up, he nods. "Well, I will dig into what I can and we'll see what we can turn up together." Henry smiles. "Perhaps I can tap some other resources in term of tech or cosmic knowledge. I don't know if we can come up with answers, but we can certainly strive to find them." A smile. "Thank you, Michael. I appreciate the opportunity to look into this for you."
Michael Erickson	"Just...if it turns out to be dangerous, let me know so I can help you put it down?" His brows arch. "I don't want anyone thinking I'm bringing in bad stuff on purpose. As far as I know, that thing is inactive." But that said, he returns the smile. "Just glad I can help out some way. My people owe you."     That said he takes his exit, pausing to squint at the transtator core one last time before chucking and heading out. Antiques. Everything is antiques on this world, even the 'advanced' technology...