Image from Steve Bowers | |
Multi-layered marrowbone armour with a black, ablative outer layer; when this armour is attacked by a beam weapon, the topmost layer vapourises easily, carrying away heat and revealing a mirrored surface |
"Cool armor, Khadir," 7Sengya tells him.This type of armor was originally developed near the end of the Technocalypse and has evolved into many different forms and specialities since its creation. It combines protection from high-powered weaponry with close combat armor and defenses against gray or khaki goo attacks. This armor type gets its name from the thick biont bones that it resembles.
Khadir beams at her, and thumps his armored chest, like Tarzan. "Imposing, yes? Kettlebeck dug up the specifications on his fab. He calls it marrowbone. I would tell you the specs but, well, you're a possible alien infiltrator who might attempt to consume our brains at any moment, and I don't want to be too forthcoming...and to be truthful, I don't understand Kettlebeck particularly clearly anyway when he gets going...."
Those little golden glyphs are flickering in front of 7Sengya's eyes again. "Marrowbone armor: late Nanoswarm Era design," she recites. "Primarily multiple layers of laminated diamondoid. Contains a soft interior layer of repair nanocaches, along with an embedded nano-capillary system to dispense 'blue goo' nano-defenses to repel dissembler attacks. The outer layer is composed of a polished ablative polymer; the interior layer is coated with lead and/or boron for radiation shielding of up to twelve hundred rads...you know, for those uncomfortable moments when some asshole detonates a neutron bomb in your particular zip code." She smiles at him, benignly.
Khadir stares at her, mouth momentarily agape. "Uhm...yes," he says. "That sounds...about right...well, except for the bit about the repair nanos. Apparently the fab won't produce nanotech assemblers, for whatever reason...."
"No, it wouldn't," 7Sengya says, again with that infuriatingly knowing smile. "Still a nice old museum piece, though." Khadir winces, ever so slightly, and she smiles sweetly right back at him, and it occurs to me 7Sengya might be feeling the slightest bit waspish about her own blue ovaries, herself. "So...when are we going?"
"The Guard's rounding up everybody we know in the Valley now," Khadir tells her, glances over at me, and tips his shades back down over his eyes with a slight cringe. "Or, well, as soon as your boyfriend Justin, here, puts his pants back on," he allows.-Snapshot from "Dirty Hands"