Dreamwidth writing prompt: @eggbug_writes — Monster who’s a delivery platform for entire ecosystems
“The Deep Space Scan Network tagged the rocky object, listed in the Short Names Online Directory as Peanut Brittle Monolith — stop laughing, Canterbury—”
Alison — callsign Can’t — does nothing to tamp down her snickers.
“Beats Ironrich McIronrichface,” she says, spawled in her chair eating a power bar, and crosses her ankles with insolent theatricality.
“Yes, thank you, the general public gets to name things, and they’re even bigger shitheads than you,” Flight Leader says wearily. “‘Cept maybe Can’t. DSSN tagged this rocky object—” and the Flea shines a laser pointer briefly on the projector output: about twelve off-black pixels square, blown up and washed out all over the wall. “—About six years ago, as an Earth near-miss, and by near we mean, as usual, amateur astronomers might see it, expensive telescopes and favourable atmo conditions permitting. However. It was a good candidate for an Iphegenia flyby, test out their cameras.”
The Flea clicks through to a slide with a standard This Data Has Not Been Cleared For Public Release warning.
“If these pictures leak,” the Flea says heavily, “questions will be asked. They will start with Which one of you did that? and they will end with every likely candidate asking Do you want fries with that? for the rest of your working life.”
Click.
“What’s that?” Hammer says.
“Space armadillos!” Can’t squeals, nearly dropping the nibbled remnant of her power bar.
“Panspermic silicate life,” the Flea says gloomily. The short, silent, grainy video loops endlessly. Not a rocky body at all: a hibernating conglomeration of smaller, livelier rocky bodies, already stirring with a star’s proximity. “Which absolutely cannot be allowed to make planetfall on Earth.”
“Aw,” Can’t says, pouting.
“Firstly because these assholes are the size of a minivan, and they’re going to do some damage if they come raining down over a populated area, just from the impact. They’re built for it; people underneath, not so much. Secondly — chrissake, Can’t, stop pretending you’re stupid, you have a xenology degree.”
“It’d really get put to use if a novel micro-ecosystem of xenomicrobes got blatted all over a hemisphere,” Can’t says brightly. “Fuckin’ grant proposal goldrush, baby!”
“You’re gonna have to settle for shining a torch on it,” the Flea says.
“Aw fuck yeah,” Can’t says. “Target painting for Godbolt?”
“The mass drivers are already charging,” the Flea confirms. “Kinetic killshot ASAP. This concludes our briefing. Any questions? Any questions from someone who’s not Can’t? Get suited and booted.”
