Clark holds off on salvage for now, oh so gently placing a hand on excruciatingly cold metal. Both out of sentiment, logging to himself the tactile sensation of space-worn alloy, like feeling the weathered edges of an ancient grave, but also to see if there's any response. Listening, sensing, seeing for any indication of nanotech churning towards whatever possible signature his hand might convey.
Nothing immediately. He presses his mouth into a line.
"Yeah," he confirms. "So, a bigger craft. Most of them are, I guess."
Carefully, he sets his fingernails into the seam where the door slides closed, and he really only needs a fraction of a millimetre of leverage to apply his strength and start to force it open. He's been making good use of the space-age sunbed on the shuttle, and so in spite of Kryptonian sturdier make, the metal is forced apart until he can look through.
Less dense metal layering over his ability to see through it makes for a cleaner scan as he looks around a chamber. Not a whole chamber, cracked open like an egg with visible space showing through jagged gaps, but he moves inside of it anyway.
Momentarily, out of visual range of the shuttle. And then, over comms, "Think I found something."
Bruce dislikes Clark being out of visual range on principle, regardless of the fact that he can't really see anyway. He finds himself leaning involuntarily, like someone trying to get a better view of a fixed image in a YouTube video, and abruptly rights himself.
"If you think so, you probably did."
A brief pine for Diana's archeologist's eye, followed up by an immediate karma twinge to his lower back.
"If you can safely rotate it so the cavity is facing here," Bruce just goes ahead and points, since he knows Clark can see him if he wants to, "I can scan the insides."
Holding position until confirmation or decline. Distantly, he thinks about his back injury, and whether or not he'll survive re-entry into Earth's atmosphere at some later date, and if this outing will have been worth it if he doesn't. The thought slips away from him, careless— if he minded the chance of his own death, he wouldn't ever leave the house.
A few pieces of debris connect, spin off in changed directions, but nothing fast enough to worry about as Clark slowly pivots the whole thing. Once angled where Bruce had indicated, he grips onto it to slow its momentum completely, a fixed point in space under his hand until he's able to let go.
The chamber has more panels, and several protrusions that look a little like the pods that housed Kryptonian armor (and Kryptonians), only smaller. Clark touches one of them, reluctant to brute force it open, and instead scans through the outer shell.
It only takes a moment before he reports, with a hint of wonder, "Android."
The scan begins. Bruce watches the holographic image begin to form in the air in front of him, shimmering, compiling with the scans of the outside of the debris. Piecing it together, even though he doesn't know how to categorize the sum of its parts.
Space is fascinating. Like dinosaurs. There's a spark buried under years of ash and soot, daring to be interested, to find it inspiring, and encouraging of creativity and imagination. In some other world, Bruce is a brilliant engineer and scientist because he wants to be, not because there's a knife held at his throat all day, ever day.
Now, Clark goes about extracting it, peeling back metal with watchful care that he isn't damaging anything important as he does so. Revealing the textured, hooded eye of the robot make, near identical to the one on board his ship back home. It doesn't activate in his presence, no ripple of life, but perhaps there's something they can do with it.
If not bring it online, then take whatever information it might be storing. He takes a little time in disconnecting it from its pod, making sure that anything he breaks or snaps is not actually an intrinsic part of the android.
"There you go," he says, as he pulls it free. Then, "Should I bring it in?"
"Yeah. If we can rev it up, it may be able to find the rest of its ship. And barring anything immediately useful, a great souvenir."
Batman doesn't have a sense of humor. Anyway. He does some fussing with the controls to prep opening the cargo chamber, where their inert new friend can be stowed for decontamination. Never know what a robot might have picked up floating in space— just because Clark is theoretically immune to subatomic germs that can survive in a vacuum doesn't mean Bruce would be.
"Is there anything else that looks unique? Even from a spare parts perspective?"
Half of his attention on the scanner, meanwhile. No one's crept up on them yet, on this journey, but he doesn't trust the quiet vastness of space now that he knows what's out here.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Nothing immediately. He presses his mouth into a line.
"Yeah," he confirms. "So, a bigger craft. Most of them are, I guess."
Carefully, he sets his fingernails into the seam where the door slides closed, and he really only needs a fraction of a millimetre of leverage to apply his strength and start to force it open. He's been making good use of the space-age sunbed on the shuttle, and so in spite of Kryptonian sturdier make, the metal is forced apart until he can look through.
Less dense metal layering over his ability to see through it makes for a cleaner scan as he looks around a chamber. Not a whole chamber, cracked open like an egg with visible space showing through jagged gaps, but he moves inside of it anyway.
Momentarily, out of visual range of the shuttle. And then, over comms, "Think I found something."
no subject
"If you think so, you probably did."
A brief pine for Diana's archeologist's eye, followed up by an immediate karma twinge to his lower back.
"If you can safely rotate it so the cavity is facing here," Bruce just goes ahead and points, since he knows Clark can see him if he wants to, "I can scan the insides."
Holding position until confirmation or decline. Distantly, he thinks about his back injury, and whether or not he'll survive re-entry into Earth's atmosphere at some later date, and if this outing will have been worth it if he doesn't. The thought slips away from him, careless— if he minded the chance of his own death, he wouldn't ever leave the house.
no subject
The chamber has more panels, and several protrusions that look a little like the pods that housed Kryptonian armor (and Kryptonians), only smaller. Clark touches one of them, reluctant to brute force it open, and instead scans through the outer shell.
It only takes a moment before he reports, with a hint of wonder, "Android."
kicks down door
Space is fascinating. Like dinosaurs. There's a spark buried under years of ash and soot, daring to be interested, to find it inspiring, and encouraging of creativity and imagination. In some other world, Bruce is a brilliant engineer and scientist because he wants to be, not because there's a knife held at his throat all day, ever day.
Ah, but the knife is its own inspiration.
"Like Kelex?"
Bruce's best friend!
no subject
Now, Clark goes about extracting it, peeling back metal with watchful care that he isn't damaging anything important as he does so. Revealing the textured, hooded eye of the robot make, near identical to the one on board his ship back home. It doesn't activate in his presence, no ripple of life, but perhaps there's something they can do with it.
If not bring it online, then take whatever information it might be storing. He takes a little time in disconnecting it from its pod, making sure that anything he breaks or snaps is not actually an intrinsic part of the android.
"There you go," he says, as he pulls it free. Then, "Should I bring it in?"
no subject
Batman doesn't have a sense of humor. Anyway. He does some fussing with the controls to prep opening the cargo chamber, where their inert new friend can be stowed for decontamination. Never know what a robot might have picked up floating in space— just because Clark is theoretically immune to subatomic germs that can survive in a vacuum doesn't mean Bruce would be.
"Is there anything else that looks unique? Even from a spare parts perspective?"
Half of his attention on the scanner, meanwhile. No one's crept up on them yet, on this journey, but he doesn't trust the quiet vastness of space now that he knows what's out here.