Pilot fuel card
Unofficial Kroger Fuel Points Discussion
2022.05.17 20:30 knightcrusader Unofficial Kroger Fuel Points Discussion
Discussion about all things related to the Kroger family-of-stores fuel point system. How it works, maximizing earnings, deals and bonuses, 4x gift card offers, redeeming, general tips and help, etc. If you want to save money on fuel, this is the place to be.
2016.12.30 23:05 kr1mson Frontier Elder Dragon Highlander
This is a subreddit dedicated to a Frontier version of the Magic the Gathering 100 card singleton variant EDH/Commander.
2019.11.16 18:49 tanku2222 RockAndBushes
Jupiter Moons: Mecha is single player, card deck building, rogue-like adventure. Pilot your Mech and hunt down bounties. Earn money and reputation by fighting pirates, bandits, and corrupted machines. Equip your Mech with various weapons and support items. Each equipped item adds new cards to the deck. Change Mech loadout to craft a unique card deck.
2023.06.01 09:51 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.01 09:33 rayletter1997 Welcome to China Airline
Thank you for choosing the airline the Bluetooth device is ready to Pair If you’ll wonder why the plane made from plastic what the fuck you think this is We’re not in America this is good quality made in China The Bluetooth device is connected successfully My name is Captain Ming Lee and I’ll be flying for 12 days I learned yesterday from YouTube Tutorial now I can fly a plane Announcement from the Pilot if you’re wondering where your pet gone if you have a dog or cat Thank you very much for my MEAL Ladies and Gentlemen, I want to tell you something about this plane. This plane is made from me and my father. This is home made. I made it at home. So if you’re wondering where is the wing gone. Who needs wings. This is, China, the new innovation of the world. We are one of the smartest people on earth. If you come to Hong Kong everybody wearing the Lenovo Airpods. I have a factory with my grandma. We make sandals. Ladies and gentlemen for the passengers who crying. Why are you crying? You’re looking for your pet Dog, pet Cat, pet Rat. Don’t be blind. It’s on the menu. The flight attendant is coming to bring it through. Don’t worry it will taste very nice. She cooked for 12 years. Good cook like my auntie. My auntie Ming Lee can cook very nice. If you eat the Rice from her. You will never go back to America with no Flavour. I went to KFC two days ago to try the KFC America it taste like somebody Dried Ballsack. What the hell. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE RUN INTO issue. I made this plane but I forgot to put enough fuel. Now they say the Bluetooth device is disconnected. If you guys have Wi-Fi turn it off, take your iPhone throw out the window. Ladies and gentlemen, this is dangerous we’re going TO DIEE (noooo) I can’t even see Ming Lee this is scary. Oh lord save me. We’re going to the Water. Noooo! Ming Lee what did you do to the Animal. Super Idol de xiaorong Dou mei ni de tian the Bluetooth device is connected successfully
submitted by rayletter1997 to copypasta [link] [comments]
2023.06.01 08:34 Lovely_Hippo78 F35 update:
So for those who have been asking about my f35 here's an update on how it's going. For those looking for some reading material before bed I got you covered as well.
Things I've changed: - weapon panel. It went from barely functional to completely inoperative. Currently working on auto sorting/switching weapons panel to replace the old manual one.
-control system. I added extra keybinds for important things (autopilot, gear, flight mode, launch) and added controller support so it now supports hotas systems! Only downside is that when I looked at it again after having not touched it in a day or two, there is an uncontrollable oscillation above 200knots. The current 'fix' is turning down the leading edge flaps but that messes with trim which messes with autopilot which messes with everything. Safe to say this system is worse off than it was a few days ago, but it's on a better path so eventually it'll get good. I might end up fitting a hotas seat into the plane just for the extra keybinds and axis. This plane is already a dream to fly (when working properly) so being able to keep your hands on the controls would be great! Only downside is that I need to relocate 1 panel in the cockpit and I haven't decided where to put it. So for now, the old seat stays.
-core systems. I am trying desperately to simplify the computational load of the f35 without sacrificing features. I taught myself tables today and they will definitely come into play as a go forward with this project. Today alone I removed 16 lua blocks from the weapon system. I went from every pylon doing its own math to one central brain in a different MC that just pumps out what pylon to drop and when. Progress is decent in the optimization department!
-attitude. Don't get me wrong, this is still the single most complex system I've ever built in stormworks. Half the systems haven't been started, and the other half are barely functional. I've already put over 200 hours into the project over the past few months and it often feels like 2 steps forward 1 step back, but right now I feel more motivated to work on it than I did when I first saw those bays open. So even if this project is formed to fail, it will not be going down anytime soon.
-canopy. The all important canopy. The aesthetics did not change but the brain did. For reference on how much power I'm putting into this computer, the canopy talks to the main systems on board. For 99% of applications the canopy will do exactly what you want it to without your input being required. The other 1%? It's being worked on. That's kinda the goal of this whole plane. I want to do as little as possible as a stormworks pilot but man I really hate it when a computer does something you didn't want it to do. That just gives yall a good reference as to what my thought process is here.
OK as much as I love talking about my FCS dying, autopilot crying, weapon system reviving, and canopy vibing, I think it's time we talk game plan. There were a lot of people mentioning how they just couldn't wait for this thing to go up on the workshop. So for those of you dying from anticipation, I expect a funeral invite. This project has taken a long time, and there isn't a single aspect of the plane that I am even close to happy with yet. As much as I would love to put this plane on the workshop right now, I just can't. It NEEDS to be perfect. Saying "a long time" and "perfect" doesn't allow for reasonable time estimates, instead, I'll just list off some of the main goals of the plane (subject to change of course) and yall can make your estimates on how long these will take me to implement. Remember, half the fun is learning how to do it, so every system will be home grown for this plane. Also I know these are basically unattainable, but either I make it happen or this plane never gets seen on the workshop so let's hope for a miracle shall we :P.
Flight control system goals: - full controllekeyboard support with selectable control types based on controller needs (sticky throttle vs centering throttle for example)
Auto Pilot System Goals: - full GCAS system. If my autopilot hits the ocean, my plane better be on fire.
-the classic gps stuff dialed to 11. Alt hold that works perfectly at every speed, autoheading that tracks a line on the floor, and a system that both levels roll and compensates for it. If I decide that my plane flies better on its side, the autopilot should agree.
-auto formation. Two reasons: 1, once I install everything else, this will be easy, and two, because a screenshot with 4 f35s in diamond formation would be epic.
-auto takeoff and landing. I'm not sure if this was shown yet, but my map display has every static airport in game coded into it. My dream is to be at one airport, click on another, and watch my plane do everything without me. Future plans to add carrier landings as well.
MFD goals. - map display. Full pan, zoom, and follow features (duh) as well as information overlays(weapon and navigation). Picture things like points of interest, laser designator(s?), IFF locations, and of course, airports.
-weapon display. My biggest planned compromise... I have 2 options here; I could build a fully proprietary standard and use home brewed weapons with amazing integration, or use a standardized approach ensuring compatibility. I chose the latter. I'm not the best at anything , and certainly not with weapons. I decides I'll leave that up to the community. That doesn't mean the weapon Page will be bad though. It's still going to auto group weapons by type, offer different firing modes, a wide suite of guidance types, and of course, a quality sequencer. This is what I worked on today and even though I still haven't started most of the features, the polish on the parts I have finished is definitely good enough for me.
-EW display. [REDACTED]. Jk of course. I'm not that multiplayer type so I don't really care if people take my EW systems. To be clear, there is 0% chance the public release is going to be fully featured, but it certainly wont need an ew pod. Planned features include radio sweeping/jamming, radio tracking, multi-standard IFF, datalink, frequency hopping, and depending on how ambitious I'm feeling, maybe some code breaking as well. Again, I'm not that multiplayer type, so I'll probably never see the benefit from these systems. But to have such a nice plane be spoiled by a radio guided missile would be a crime. Side note, currently there are exactly 0 antenna in the build, but I'm sure I'll find space somewhere...
Conclusion. Would you look at that! A list of goals so ambitious there's no chance he'll accomplish any of it! Yeah, probably. Nice to dream I guess. Anyway, here's the fun part: I'm easy to persuade, and I am shooting for every bell and whistle I can think of. That means if one of yall give me a sales pitch for a feature I should add, it will most likely end up on the list. Also if yall have standards or references you think I should take a look at, I will gladly do so.
submitted by Lovely_Hippo78 to Stormworks [link] [comments]
Things I've changed: - weapon panel. It went from barely functional to completely inoperative. Currently working on auto sorting/switching weapons panel to replace the old manual one.
-control system. I added extra keybinds for important things (autopilot, gear, flight mode, launch) and added controller support so it now supports hotas systems! Only downside is that when I looked at it again after having not touched it in a day or two, there is an uncontrollable oscillation above 200knots. The current 'fix' is turning down the leading edge flaps but that messes with trim which messes with autopilot which messes with everything. Safe to say this system is worse off than it was a few days ago, but it's on a better path so eventually it'll get good. I might end up fitting a hotas seat into the plane just for the extra keybinds and axis. This plane is already a dream to fly (when working properly) so being able to keep your hands on the controls would be great! Only downside is that I need to relocate 1 panel in the cockpit and I haven't decided where to put it. So for now, the old seat stays.
-core systems. I am trying desperately to simplify the computational load of the f35 without sacrificing features. I taught myself tables today and they will definitely come into play as a go forward with this project. Today alone I removed 16 lua blocks from the weapon system. I went from every pylon doing its own math to one central brain in a different MC that just pumps out what pylon to drop and when. Progress is decent in the optimization department!
-attitude. Don't get me wrong, this is still the single most complex system I've ever built in stormworks. Half the systems haven't been started, and the other half are barely functional. I've already put over 200 hours into the project over the past few months and it often feels like 2 steps forward 1 step back, but right now I feel more motivated to work on it than I did when I first saw those bays open. So even if this project is formed to fail, it will not be going down anytime soon.
-canopy. The all important canopy. The aesthetics did not change but the brain did. For reference on how much power I'm putting into this computer, the canopy talks to the main systems on board. For 99% of applications the canopy will do exactly what you want it to without your input being required. The other 1%? It's being worked on. That's kinda the goal of this whole plane. I want to do as little as possible as a stormworks pilot but man I really hate it when a computer does something you didn't want it to do. That just gives yall a good reference as to what my thought process is here.
OK as much as I love talking about my FCS dying, autopilot crying, weapon system reviving, and canopy vibing, I think it's time we talk game plan. There were a lot of people mentioning how they just couldn't wait for this thing to go up on the workshop. So for those of you dying from anticipation, I expect a funeral invite. This project has taken a long time, and there isn't a single aspect of the plane that I am even close to happy with yet. As much as I would love to put this plane on the workshop right now, I just can't. It NEEDS to be perfect. Saying "a long time" and "perfect" doesn't allow for reasonable time estimates, instead, I'll just list off some of the main goals of the plane (subject to change of course) and yall can make your estimates on how long these will take me to implement. Remember, half the fun is learning how to do it, so every system will be home grown for this plane. Also I know these are basically unattainable, but either I make it happen or this plane never gets seen on the workshop so let's hope for a miracle shall we :P.
Flight control system goals: - full controllekeyboard support with selectable control types based on controller needs (sticky throttle vs centering throttle for example)
- full INS based flight control system. Ability to auto trim every axis without feeling too snappy or unpredictable. If drift exists, it should be from your flightstick, not the plane.
- complete flight modes. Ex: dogfight mode with increased control responsiveness, landing mode with autoleveling, descent rate control, and auto flaring.
- perfect in all weather conditions. If I feel the need to look at the wind setting, somethings gone horribly wrong. The wind doesn't move mountains, so why should it move my plane?
Auto Pilot System Goals: - full GCAS system. If my autopilot hits the ocean, my plane better be on fire.
-the classic gps stuff dialed to 11. Alt hold that works perfectly at every speed, autoheading that tracks a line on the floor, and a system that both levels roll and compensates for it. If I decide that my plane flies better on its side, the autopilot should agree.
-auto formation. Two reasons: 1, once I install everything else, this will be easy, and two, because a screenshot with 4 f35s in diamond formation would be epic.
-auto takeoff and landing. I'm not sure if this was shown yet, but my map display has every static airport in game coded into it. My dream is to be at one airport, click on another, and watch my plane do everything without me. Future plans to add carrier landings as well.
MFD goals. - map display. Full pan, zoom, and follow features (duh) as well as information overlays(weapon and navigation). Picture things like points of interest, laser designator(s?), IFF locations, and of course, airports.
- navigation display. Essentially the better way to talk to your autopilot. Tell it things like remain level, stay at 1000 meters, land here. Basically anything that doesn't fit with a keybind or on the map display. One notable goal is that both panels could be up side by side allowing you to input way points, and visualize flight plans a lot easier.
-weapon display. My biggest planned compromise... I have 2 options here; I could build a fully proprietary standard and use home brewed weapons with amazing integration, or use a standardized approach ensuring compatibility. I chose the latter. I'm not the best at anything , and certainly not with weapons. I decides I'll leave that up to the community. That doesn't mean the weapon Page will be bad though. It's still going to auto group weapons by type, offer different firing modes, a wide suite of guidance types, and of course, a quality sequencer. This is what I worked on today and even though I still haven't started most of the features, the polish on the parts I have finished is definitely good enough for me.
-EW display. [REDACTED]. Jk of course. I'm not that multiplayer type so I don't really care if people take my EW systems. To be clear, there is 0% chance the public release is going to be fully featured, but it certainly wont need an ew pod. Planned features include radio sweeping/jamming, radio tracking, multi-standard IFF, datalink, frequency hopping, and depending on how ambitious I'm feeling, maybe some code breaking as well. Again, I'm not that multiplayer type, so I'll probably never see the benefit from these systems. But to have such a nice plane be spoiled by a radio guided missile would be a crime. Side note, currently there are exactly 0 antenna in the build, but I'm sure I'll find space somewhere...
Conclusion. Would you look at that! A list of goals so ambitious there's no chance he'll accomplish any of it! Yeah, probably. Nice to dream I guess. Anyway, here's the fun part: I'm easy to persuade, and I am shooting for every bell and whistle I can think of. That means if one of yall give me a sales pitch for a feature I should add, it will most likely end up on the list. Also if yall have standards or references you think I should take a look at, I will gladly do so.
2023.06.01 06:42 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.01 06:16 drstrangelove444 Highlights of China's large passenger aircraft C919 / The C919, China's first domestically made large passenger aircraft
 | submitted by drstrangelove444 to NewsWithJingjing [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 06:05 legos45 Best Gaming Laptops (Updated for June 2023!)
Hi everyone,
You may have already saw my list of general use laptops. This time, I have an updated version of my general list of good gaming options. If you are looking for a general use devices list, please click here to view my list from May 2023!
As a reminder, this list isn't a definitive list to determine what you should get. It should give you an overall idea of what you should be able to expect in a given price range. If you have any questions about anything listed here, let me know, I will assist you!
This category applies to anyone who is on a tight budget, all the way to the most expensive devices. It applies to anyone who want to play lighter games, as well as demanding games. Here are some bullet points to refer to when looking for a good gaming laptop:
If you are looking for a general device instead, take a look at my Best General Use Laptop list from May 2023!
submitted by legos45 to LaptopDeals [link] [comments]
Please visit our website laptopsdeals.net for laptop deals, reviews, and lists!
My list is updated this month with all of the latest and greatest gaming laptops featuring new Intel 13th Gen processors, AMD Ryzen 7000 Series processors, NVIDIA's RTX 4000 graphics cards.You may have already saw my list of general use laptops. This time, I have an updated version of my general list of good gaming options. If you are looking for a general use devices list, please click here to view my list from May 2023!
As a reminder, this list isn't a definitive list to determine what you should get. It should give you an overall idea of what you should be able to expect in a given price range. If you have any questions about anything listed here, let me know, I will assist you!
This category applies to anyone who is on a tight budget, all the way to the most expensive devices. It applies to anyone who want to play lighter games, as well as demanding games. Here are some bullet points to refer to when looking for a good gaming laptop:
- Look for a good processor! For gaming, the processor is definitely an important factor. It is more important than in a general use device, since games will benefit from having higher clock speeds and more cores / threads. Most of the U processors are not ideal for gaming, since they often cannot sustain their boost clock speeds. But, they can still make do on a budget. Here is the order of processor strength of the devices I will be presenting: i5-4300M < Ryzen 5 5600H < i5-11400H < i7-1260P < Ryzen 5 6600H < Ryzen 7 7735HS < Ryzen 7 6800H < Ryzen 9 6900HS < Ryzen 9 6900HX < i5-12500H < i5-13500H < i7-12650H < i7-12700H < i7-12800H < Ryzen 9 7940HS < i7-13700H < i7-13650HX < i7-13700HX < i9-13900H < i9-13900HX < i9-13980HX
- Look for a good graphics card! This is the most important aspect for gaming! This is the main factor that will be able to fuel gaming capability. Here is the order of weakest to strongest GPUs that are available on this list: Intel HD Graphics 4600 < RTX 3050 < RTX 3050 Ti < RTX 4050 < RTX 3060 < RTX 3070 < AMD RX 6800S < RTX 4060 < RTX 3070 Ti < RTX 4070 < RTX 4080 < RTX 4090
- Please keep in mind that for this generation of GPUs, wattage matters a lot, often more important than the GPU model. For example, a very high wattage RTX 4060 may outperform a lower wattage RTX 4070 or RTX 4080. I have included all of the wattages that are known for the RTX 4000 laptops on my list. Before purchasing, I would recommend watching reviews on YouTube.
- Pay attention to thermals! This has become larger and larger of an issue in recent times. These newer CPUs can consume a lot of power, but some manufacturers have decided to skimp out on cooling, meaning that these processors will happily run at 100°C, which really isn't ideal for long term use. So, you should search up reviews on the device you intend on purchasing for an idea about how hot it runs. If you end up with a system that has a CPU that runs hot, take a look at my tutorial video on how to disable turbo boost. It will decrease temperatures by 20°C to 25°C in games without affecting gaming performance.
Click here to view this month's list.
A lot of these laptops are not necessarily on sale, so keep your eyes peeled for the deals that are regularly posted on the subreddit! If you're looking for a specific laptop recommendation, considering making a request in the pinned weekly request thread.If you are looking for a general device instead, take a look at my Best General Use Laptop list from May 2023!
2023.06.01 05:16 moshpitrocker 76 update for 06/01/23
 | submitted by moshpitrocker to guam [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 05:12 RegalLegalEagle Made of Mud
Based on a Dream
FDF Resolute, Sanctum Class Battlecruiser, en route to NT-2125 deep Fringe.
Mary had been rather intrigued by the concept of an observation deck on a ship. Curator ship designs didn’t even have windows let alone a whole deck. Yet, deck seemed a bit of a grand exaggeration now that she was standing in the room with the large window dominating one wall. The room was empty aside from herself. Though there were tables and chairs enough to fit a few dozen people easily. No doubt it was more in use if the ship should be hosting dignitaries over some important planet, or picturesque astronomical feature. En route to NT-2125 however they were instead enveloped in the Ink, a sight no one seemed keen on viewing.
Her education had of course touched on the existence of the Ink, but that was about it. She had no idea how it really was used to facilitate FTL travel. What she did know, now that she was looking at it, was that it was rather unpleasant to look at. She had seen purest black. The concept of looking at entirely nothing but a void was fine with her.
The Ink however… While she watched it slowly move around before her eyes it was like a vast ocean of some kind. An ocean of… incredible depth. When she had first stepped into the room and seen it dominating the large window she had thought it to be a mixture of blues, purples, and blacks. But the longer she watched the bubbles and lines slowly moving around she wasn’t sure if she were seeing color at all. Maybe she was seeing not the absence of light, but something opposite to it. As if the Ink gave off… anti-light.
She had no basis for this thought of course. No training, education, or experience to make her believe it was a real thing. Yet, if matter had anti-matter why couldn’t light have anti-light? After all the longer she looked the more if felt like she wasn’t really seeing anything. Nothing real anyway. More like… if she closed her eyes and rubbed against the eyelids and saw the attempts of her brain understand the shadows. Then there was the thought maybe she really was seeing something. Something just under the waves of its vast deep ocean of anti-light. After all, what was causing it to move? Were the waves, ripples, and bubbles purely random? Or was there something making it move?
As unpleasant as her line of thinking was, at least watching it gave her some small alone time on the otherwise crowded vessel. It also gave her an excuse to keep her headset muted. She would much rather deal with staring out at a vast ocean of anti-light than listen to the ship around her at this point. Yet, the moment she began to consider that she saw a flash in the bottom of her vision. Door opening. With a flick she started the program to let her headset gradually increase volume as her ears began to work again.
First sound, click of hard heel on metallic decking. Second sound, sharp intake of breath likely indicating surprise, anxiety, unease, or combination. Third sound, a tongue flicking against teeth before making a disapproving sucking sound. Fourth sound, fabric on fabric rubbing was very low and soft indicating luxury stitching and material. “Hello Director Obli.”
“Translator.” Came the curt reply, though said at a perfectly reasonable volume for normal speaking Mary winced a bit. Going from total silence to even the muted sounds she was getting now was rough at times. Especially as more just kept building. Even at this low level the sound of the ships began to return to her. The groan of metal, the hum of electricity, the distant murmur of people going about their tasks. She had no idea what she’d do without the headset to at least partially mute the world around her.
“Your bodyguards aren’t joining us?” Mary glanced over at the Huul’Rav in his custom suit. She couldn’t see his guards, but she could hear them just outside. She recognized Hrue from his breathing pattern, as smoking had done a number on his lungs. Based on the jingle of grenade tabs the other was Juul.
“If the Curators wanted me dead I highly doubt they’d create you just for the task. They’re more than powerful enough to have no need for subtlety or subterfuge.” Even though the director was talking to her he was looking out the window at the Ink. She could see the disdain on his face rather obviously. A hand moving up to nervously brush his furry chin, even as he tilted his horns side to side.
While he seemed focused on the Ink her mind returned to his curious comment. Did the Curators need to employ subterfuge? Of course they were powerful, but surely there was also use in subterfuge. Regardless, she had not been sent to kill the Director. Or anyone for that matter. She had no training in combat or related topics. He seemed to also be thinking about this though as he looked at her. “You aren’t here to kill me right?”
“No. I’m not here to kill you or anyone else.” She assured him. “I’m just here to facilitate communications during the negotiations.”
“It is curious though. Why the Custodians sent anyone at all…” He trailed off and while she was about to answer he turned and spoke first. “Actually do you mind if we talk somewhere else?” At the end his eyes darted to the window and the swirl of the Ink beyond.
“Certainly.” She nodded, and gestured to the door letting him go first.
“I appreciate it.” He commented and even as he stepped through the door Hrue stepped in front of him to lead, while Juul stepped up behind Mary to follow. “I will admit it spoils my plans a bit. I wanted to talk with you in private a little. But uh… I do not particularly enjoy looking at the Ink.” She could hear his breathing pattern change just being in the hallway, out of sight of the swirling anti-light.
“I’m sure we can find privacy elsewhere. Though I am unsure what kind of private chat you would like. I’m here strictly as a neutral party to facilitate negotiations.” She reminded him.
“As you’ve said many times.” Obli waved off her remark. “Anyway, since you’re new to this sort of thing I just want to introduce you to my underling since you’ll be working for him during the start of the talks.”
Mary frowned at this sudden revelation. “First, I don’t work for you, or your subordinate. I-”
“Are a neutral translator provided by the Curators.” He waved her off again as they walked. All around her she could hear the ship and its crew going about keeping the ship alive as it were. It was an older vessel and every creak and groan of stressed metal, or electrical spark continued to heighten her anxiety. She could not wait to get off this vessel and onto a planet. “I meant work for him in a more metaphorical sense. I know you likely expected to work with me throughout these talks but it’s just not how labor talks to management. They don’t get to start by talking to a Director. They’ll start with someone just important enough to garner attention but with no real power. If he fails, I swoop in and save things. If he succeeds I get to take credit in the end and talk about how I knew he was the man for the job.”
The further they walked from the observation deck and the Ink the more confident and in fact arrogant Obli got. She wasn’t particularly keen on his behavior but she had at least grown accustomed to it on the trip so far. “Why then did you spend most of this trip testing my abilities as a translator?”
“Because I was trying to figure out your angle.” He replied with a glance back over his shoulder as they reached a lift. The four of them filtered into it before Juul hit the button for the hangar deck.
“I don’t have an angle. I was instructed to come here and facilitate-” She began but he yet again waved her off.
“Neutral yes yes. But why? We’ve never needed nor requested Curator assistance for anything like this. We have a proven history of successfully ending labor disputes and organization efforts. So why have the curators bothered to send you? Shouldn’t you be trying to help keep the FDF from falling apart? Or spreading the word of the Curators to the masses or something? That is something they do right? Proselytize?” Mary was fairly confident Obli tried to be dismissive about the Curators just to make himself more comfortable. It was a minor enough annoyance to overlook. Though she wondered if it actually helped ease his fragile ego.
“The Curators do not proselytize no. They have no need. They exist. They act. They do not need the approval of others, nor belief in their correctness. I am here because I have been ordered to be here. I was told I must assist in negotiating between the belligerent parties on NT-2125 and observe the outcome. That is all. If the Curators have a deeper reason for sending me here I do not know it.” While she spoke she could already hear Obli clicking his tongue in disapproval. Hrue was trying, and failing, to breathe quietly. Juul was running her hand over a smooth metallic object in her right pocket, slowly turning it over.
“I know you are flesh and blood, but you’re more like your creators than I find comforting.” Obli very bluntly commented.
“I do not exist for your comfort.” Mary pointedly replied, which made Obli click his tongue in disapproval once more. By that point the lift stopped and the doors opened. The rush of sound from the hangar deck made her wince a moment as she had to deal with the sudden volume as she lowered her headset sensitivity.
“I don’t think you exist for your own comfort either.” Obli remarked, now smirking a little at her obvious discomfort. There was little she could do but cast a glare in his direction as the pain subsided and the sounds took on a more muted level. Looking out across the hangar she could see dozens of people moving around and working on the ship’s complement of shuttles, and fighters. No one was expecting combat, but that didn’t stop the captain from preparing anyway. While she was told most of the machinery operated at frequencies most species couldn’t hear it always gave her a headache to be around so many buzzing, grinding, churning machines.
“Regardless.” Obli continued. “I want to make it clear I have been authorized to extend to the Curators our most sincere intent to be friends. If there is anything we can do to make your job more comfortable let me know. And if you see fit to pass on anything you hear from the labor organizers direct compensation is on offer.”
“I am here as a neutral party.” She reminded him yet again. But he just spread his hands and smiled.
“We’re willing to pay for even what you would consider banter and gossip. Anything you hear. My subordinate is also authorized to compensate you but I’d prefer a direct copy.” He held out an encryption cylinder. While she had no intention of passing along anything she did take it. It might be useful for other reasons.
“I don’t have a bank account, you know. Or any credits.” When she told him this he looked entirely confused. “I am not paid for my efforts. Curators do not use currency of any kind. Resources are simply provided as needed.”
Director Obli’s look of pure disgust was even more obvious than when he’d been in the observation deck. “And here I thought they were civilized… But it’s then all the more important for you to start building up your own nest egg!” He began to pull a credit chip from his pocket but she waved him off.
“I’m not chipped nor do I have a slate.” This time he scoffed and looked confused even as he held it out.
“You can take the whole thing. How do you expect to pay for anything on the planet without credits?” He seemed genuinely baffled.
“I don’t expect to pay for anything on the planet. Your company has extended their most sincere intent to be friends after all.” As she tilted her head a little while looking at him Obli just snorted.
“Ah… This is why my assistant was babbling about an expense waiver. Yes… There are limits to it, you know. Food, drink, necessities only.” Mary just stared at him until he finally sighed and tucked the credit chip back into his pocket. “Fine. It’s best for you to go change now then, the shuttle will be leaving as soon as we hit real space.”
She was wondering why he’d brought her here directly. “And why am I changing?”
“Well, you can go as you are if you like. But this isn’t a Curator ship. The Resolute has to drop further away from the planet so the shuttle will be in space to close the gap to the planet. And, I mean clearly Curator tech never breaks or has any accidents but our poor mortal hands make poor mortal vessels.” Obli spread his hands as if to highlight his own soft, well manicured hands.
“Fine.” While her suit wasn’t as comfortable as her normal clothes she didn’t intend on being the only one killed by some sort of accident on the way to the planet. It would set a terrible precedent. So she walked away from Obli and his guards then towards the hangar’s locker room.
As she strode across the deck, stepping over fuel and coolant lines she tried to make some sense of the mass of sound around her. Obli no doubt thought she was beyond earshot when he spoke to his guards. “Strange bird. Easy on the eyes though.”
Hrue cleared his throat a moment to reply in a gravely, raspy voice. “Think the Curators made her to be attractive to most species somehow? Robot magic or something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I still don’t know why they sent anyone at all. I don’t trust those damned machines.” Obli replied. She had expected this sort of reaction. It was in line with their comments during the trip.
Other than that most of the technicians, mechanics, and pilots moving around the hangar seemed much more focused on their work than anything else. Grumblings about the captain’s standards, and an apparent lack of spare parts. Based on the overall comments it seemed to be more about not wanting to do so much work rather than serious concerns over abilities to keep ships functional. Or so she hoped.
Once in the locker room she made her way to the back where a special case had been installed for her suit. While she would have preferred to travel on a Curator vessel she was glad to at least get a Curator suit. They didn’t have many organics, but the suits they made for her and the other Lifted were absolutely the best in terms of survivability, durability, and protection. Just not… comfort.
Since the locker room seemed to be empty she quickly stripped down, setting aside the encryption cylinder Obli had given her. For a moment she examined herself, along the deep red feathers of her head and neck, gradually turning to a sunburst yellow down her torso, and finally a rich deep blue along her legs and tail. Did species find her attractive? If the Curators had intended for this they likely would have included it in her training surely. Must just be Obli and his guards.
Stepping up to the Curator case she hit the activation button and then held perfectly still as the case opened, arms moving out to begin affixing the suit to her body. First she felt the snap of metal rings around her ankles, wrists, neck, hips, and ribs before the rest of the exoskeleton was built up around it. Then came the cool mesh of the inner suit pulled up underneath it and against her feathers. Next was the composites slotted into the outside, layered and overlapped for maximum coverage. Finally she prepared herself for the final step as two hoses connected to the metal collar around her neck. She hated this part.
When the liquid began to pump into the lining between the mesh and the composite layer it was ice cold and caused her to gasp and shudder as it filled in. It took a few minutes while she tried to carefully control her breathing and push past the cold. Once it was finally full the suit activated and the liquid turned solid, controlled by the sophisticated Curator chip in her skull. Her temperature quickly began to return to normal now and she took a slow deep breath in relief before taking the helmet the case offered last.
She refrained from putting the helmet on yet though, it wasn’t quite big enough for her taste and always rubbed her eartips. Walking back out into the hangar she could feel the suit somewhat flowing around her movements. It would turn liquid to move, then solid when it didn’t need to. She was also told it would go selectively rigid to deflect projectiles. A feature she hoped to never test.
Looking around a moment she saw Obli near the closest shuttle, speaking to someone wearing an executive pattern suit. Luxurious and comfortable, but she’d prefer the Curator suit in an emergency. Next to him was a human in a deep blue armored suit with steel accents. As she watched he draped a travel cloak over the shoulders of the suit. An interesting touch. Walking towards them she had to stop a moment to let a rumbling hangar tug pass. Several technicians rode in the back, carried to their next task.
Judging on the whine of the back left wheel she figured their next task might be to fix the tug itself. Either way she continued on up to Director Obli. “Translator. I’d like you to meet Kingus.” Obli gestured to the figure in the executive suit. Up close she could see through his helmet’s faceplate and examine the Nikvic inside. Rather stubby bone ridges. Rather young then for an executive.
“Translator.” He nodded to her.
“Kingus, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Mary, though translator is just fine as well.” She took an amicable approach for now.
“Yes. This is my bodyguard, Eli.” He gestured to the human next to him, who made for an imposing figure in his armor. With his helmet in place the steel visor reflected a distorted reflection of herself back at her.
“Ma’am.” He nodded and extended a hand out from under his cloak. Shifting her helmet to her left hand she carefully reached out to shake his hand in return.
“Eli, it’s nice to meet you.” The first human she’d found in the employ of the company. Though she knew most of the problems on the planet were related to their human miners. Allegedly at least.
“Nice to meet you as well ma’am.” His shake was firm but not aggressive. “We should be ready shortly. They’re loading the last of some food supplies and then we’re waiting on the marines.”
“Food supplies… I don’t even know what we’re taking down there. Argyle is a full fledged city. The problems its facing are related to labor terrorists. Not famine.” Kingus mentioned with a huff.
“It’s likely my food.” Mary answered. “The Curators were unsure how long I would be here and sent me with a full complement of prepared meals.”
“Oh.” Kingus coughed lightly. “Well… that’s fine then. I wasn’t aware you had special dietary needs. But the marines at least should be here. What’s taking them so long?” He tried to deflect a little and looked around.
As if summoned by his complaint she saw a group of human soldiers approaching the shuttle. The few times she had seen soldiers so far they’d been in smart uniforms and moving with purpose and sharp specific gestures. These… did not look nearly so impressive. Or poised. Instead the group just walked casually towards them, in a mixture of armor sets. Most had a haphazard drab olive green coat of paint but much of it was chipped and worn. Not to mention much of it was also covered in writing, drawings, and decals that she doubted were officially sanctioned.
Only the man in the lead looked to be in a truly official uniform set of armor. “I’m Lieutenant Barrow. I assume this is the shuttle we want?”
“Barrow, this is Kingus our Executive Labor Liason.” Director Obli introduced them. “This is our translator Mary.”
“Never seen one of you before. What species are you?” Mary turned to look at the soldier who’d spoken to her. He was just next to the officer, and his armor looked particularly beat up. She also noticed signs of scorch marks in several places. Unlike the single smooth faceplate of Eli’s armor his helmet looked more like a scowling face with golden lenses in the eyes.
“I am not an official species. I was Lifted by the Curators to act as a translator.” She informed him directly.
“Interesting. So you’re a bird. But you’ve got ears. What’s with the headset?” He gestured up at it as she reflexively reached up with her free hand to touch the side.
“There was a slight miscalculation in my creation and I find most settings to be… uncomfortably loud. The headset is to regulate the volume of my surroundings to prevent damage and discomfort.” She explained.
“What… wait. The Curators made a translator who gets hurt by sound? Am I understanding that right?” Mary frowned at his comment.
“That’s somewhat reductive.” She tried to deflect.
“Is it wrong?” He pressed.
“It’s not entirely inaccurate.” Disparaging on the work of the Curators wasn’t something she was comfortable with.
“That’s a fancy way of saying I’m right. So your job, which is listening to things, actively hurts you. Man… sucks to be you.” A few of the other marines snickered and giggled behind him as Mary frowned.
“Gunny, that’s enough.” Barrow finally waved off the other marine.
“Where’s the rest of your company? And the Major?” Obli asked now, thankfully moving things along.
“Elsewhere. He said if you’re not going to the planet yet he doesn’t see a reason to go either. My platoon and I are sufficient at this time. Once you’re ready to head down then the rest of the company will deploy.” Barrow shrugged. “You send your flunkey first he sends his flunkey too.”
“We have concerns about possible terrorist strikes on civilians during the labor talks. Are you sure a platoon is really sufficient?” Kingus asked.
The officer sucked in a breath, likely about to answer but Gunny cut him off. “Isn’t it interesting. All across the fringe you corporate types like to talk about how safe and secure your mining colonies are. Biding everyone to bring their families and get to work. Yet, the moment a union starts to form you start screaming about terrorists and how you need the military to keep order.”
“Gunny.” The officer hissed at him. Gunny waved it off a moment as the officer cleared his throat. “Your own reports suggest corporate security is robust enough to secure the city. We have no intel to suggest any threats of terrorist strikes by the miners are really valid. A platoon will suffice for now. If the situation changes the rest of the company can deploy very quickly I assure you.”
“Fine. But remember just because the miners in question are human doesn’t mean you can give them free reign. The FDF and by extension the marines rely on our funding to keep functioning.” Kingus replied.
“You never let us fucking forget.” Gunny muttered that barely under his breath. Neither Kingus or Obli seemed to pick up on this but Mary did.
“Many species across the Fringe have been generous enough to accept many human refugees. We obviously seek a future of cooperation and mutual success. This is not about humans being singled out. They have been given the same rights and contracts as all other species who join our corporate family.” Director Obli smiled and spread his hands in a friendly gesture. “We ask only that you protect the talks because they’re so important to our continued wellbeing as united front here on the Fringe. The Tide comes for us all and we must be ready. Together.”
“Well said Director.” Kingus nodded in support.
“Fucking please…” Gunny muttered and made some sort of gesture with his fist making a pumping motion in front of his hips. From the reports the Curators had given her, really what it seemed like was the humans massively increased their productivity, but in exchange wanted better treatment from the various industrial consortiums. The executives like Obli enjoyed the productivity but felt treating them better would set a bad precedent.
Across the fringe however humans had been getting their way more often than not. NT-2125 was by far the biggest, most high profile case, but she didn’t imagine it would be anything special. “Yes, well, we are here to keep you safe and make sure no one kills anyone. On either side.” The officer assured them and then gestured at the shuttle. “Shall we?”
“Have a nice flight Translator. Remember to call me.” Obli smiled and nodded at her.
“I’m sure we’ll be in touch, Director.” She finally pulled her helmet up and on, feeling it settle into place with a click and a soft hiss at it pressurized. The very tips of her ears were lightly pressed in by the sides which was why she’d waited this long to put it on. The marines began to board the shuttle first, shuffling along rows in the center to get into seats with metal shoulder restraints that would help hold them in place.
“Hey, so you’re a Lifted? What do the Curators want you here for? What’s the deal?” Gunny asked as he waited near the back for the others to shuffle in.
“I am not at liberty at this time to discuss the Curators or their work.” Mary’s forehead felt slightly warm as she answered him.
“Oh come on. There’s got to be something special the Curators want you here for.” Gunny insisted.
“I am not at liberty at this time to discuss the Curators or their work.” Mary’s forehead felt a bit warmer still.
“Gunny leave her alone.” Barrow instructed.
“C’mon why a translator at all? We’ve got earpieces! I’ve never seen a translator before, let alone a Curator one!” By now the other marines were seated and Mary began to shuffle up the row looking for a free seat.
“Ma’am you’ll need to take one of the jumpseats up front. These harnesses aren’t made for your Curator suit.” Barrow tapped one of the set of shoulder restraints. So she kept shuffling past the row of marines towards the front.
“I don’t rely on machine translation. I am fluent in over six hundred languages and forms of communication. I listen to all parties and ensure nothing is lost in translation.” She assured them.
“Only six hundred? I knew of a guy who was fluent in over six million forms of communication.” Gunny’s voice had a slightly different tone to it. Was he joking?
“Six million seems excessive. I assure you I am well trained for my job.” Now at the front of the shuttle she found the jumpseat in question. Yet, when she went to pull the seat down the dangerous whine and groan of the metal hinged did not inspire her with confidence. Still it was her mission so she settled into the seat and went about trying to figure out the harness.
Barrow approached her and pointed to the straps in order to help her out. “You’ll be fine. This is really just a precaution.” The Lieutenant nodded and gave her shoulder a pat. She smiled up at him then, her faceplate clear unlike their armor. It was thought to be better for non-verbal communication cues if people she spoke to could see her face. Kingus and Eli were the last to settle in seats nearby.
“Hey! Corpse!” Gunny called out as Eli settled into his seat and set the shoulder restraints with practiced ease.
“Excuse me?” Eli looked across the aisle at Gunny.
“You’re corporate security right? Corp-sec.” Gunny more carefully pronounced. But Mary was positive he hadn’t made a mistake earlier.
“I’m a private bodyguard. I work on contract.” Eli corrected him.
“Oh well anyway the fuck is with the cloak?” Gunny gestured at the deep blue cloak draped over Eli’s shoulders and body. “You’re in a suit right? Kind of the point of a space suit to be waterproof and somewhat heat proof and shit yeah? Kind of defeats the point of a cloak right? So what gives?”
“It’s about looking stylish. Something you clearly have no concept of Gunnery Sergeant.” Eli’s response seemed to take Gunny by surprise. The Gunny? Was Gunny a nickname or a title? Either way the marines around snickered and chuckled a bit though she could hear Gunny snort.
Barrow took the jumpseat next to her instead of one of the more secure seats. Possibly to help set her at ease. Which she appreciated. “So, Lieutenant. Do you expect this mission to be dangerous?”
“What? Protecting the talks? No. We’ve done this a few times so far. It’s pretty boring. No one has actually done anything. Usually there are some protests. Corp-sec shove people around. Both sides are upset. But no one dies. The talks advance. The miners get a bit more pay and benefits. Both sides are mutually annoyed with the other. And I’m sure in a few years it’ll all happen again.” Barrow shrugged and seemed entirely unconcerned.
“Don’t be so flippant.” Kingus said even as Barrow seemed to dismiss any concerns. “We’ve had some communications troubles from NT-2125. The work of labor agitators no doubt.”
“Communications troubles? Why are you telling us that now?” Barrow asked, showing some concern.
“I thought it was common knowledge?” Kingus sounded genuinely confused that Barrow was unaware of this. “Is it not? Executives on the ground have spoken of damaged communications systems, and delayed reports from outlying facilities.”
“Have there been delays in ore shipments? Or minerals or whatever?” Barrow asked.
“No. In fact due to our exemplary corporate structure we’re seeing increases across the board.” Kingus nodded, clearly proud of this fact.
“So… in your mind the labor agitators are breaking lines of communication. But not… the ore shipments which you find significantly more valuable?” Barrow asked, clearly not buying the idea.
“Don’t be complacent! Just because labor organizers have been rarely violent in the past doesn’t mean it will always be the case! I want your men on their highest alertness lieutenant!” Kingus stressed.
“Yes sir, I’ll be sure to pass that along.” Barrow assured him, even though Mary could tell by his tone that he had no intention of doing anything.
“What’s the planet like?” She asked next.
“The locals have called it Argyle.” Kingus answered. “It’s our largest mining operation and a highlight of our terraforming technology. A dozen zones have been established across the surface and ten of them are already fully habitable without a suit. We expect work to be done on six zones within the solar cycle, and shall open up another dozen to be finished within the next three solar cycles. Mineral and ore outputs are quadruple expectations. Mostly thanks to our unequaled refinery efficiency.”
“Or maybe cause you’re exploiting the shit out of your workers.” Again Gunny muttered this quietly enough to be missed by the others. Mary was settling into her seat as best she could when she heard the engines spool up. Inside the armored cockpit behind her she could hear the pilots flipping switches.
“Systems check complete. Echo shuttle requesting clearance for departure.” She wasn’t sure if that was the pilot or co-pilot. Deeper, possibly male.
“We got a flight plan?” Lighter possible female. Maybe that was the pilot?
“Yeah.” Navigator. Younger, more youthful. Not clear if male or female. “Not much to it. Follow the automated beacons. Their spaceport is big enough for Tagmax freighters so it should be easy peasy lemon squeezy.” Human definitely.
“We’re clear.” Co-pilot.
“Okay.” There was a moment where Mary’s hearing seemed to echo as she heard both the pilot in the cockpit and over the speakers in the hold at the same time. “We’re in real space and disembarking now. Remember to keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times until we come to a full and complete stop. We know you’ve got no choice in airlines today so suck it up because we’re all you got.” Also definitely human.
Gunny seemed to wiggle and settle in his seat, as if to take a nap. In general the marine chatter in the hold seemed very relaxed and calm. A good sign. The most nervous person was likely Kingus whose breathing she could tell was getting a bit quicker and more nervous. After another few seconds she heard the engine spooling get more intense and the shuttle picked up off the deck. Kingus tensed at this as his hands gripped the seat’s armrests more tightly.
While Mary wished she was in a superior Curator craft she was relatively relaxed. She’d flown many times, especially in her training to make sure she could translate even in stressful situations. Part of her wanted to mute her headset for now, to free herself of the need to listen to every jostle of the shuttle and the people within it, but she knew it was more important to maintain her ability to listen to the flight crew.
For several minutes however she mostly had to fight her growing desire to take a nap. Gunny’s breathing shifted into a soft and consistent snore so he already fell asleep. The gentle rumble of the ship around her and her secure nature also lent itself to a desire to nap… “Hey did we check the sensor calibration before we left?” Navigator.
“Yeah, total systems check. Everything cleared. I’m not seeing any problems.” Pilot.
“Uuuhhh… Okay.” Their tone implied things were not okay. She turned her head a little, and began to dial up her headset, ignoring the other sounds and focusing on the cockpit. Another minute went by as she just had the hum of the engines and marine chatter around her. “We’re sure the sensors were checked?”
“Yeah. Why what’s wrong?” Pilot.
“It’s just… uh… doesn’t make sense. I’m reading like… aaa lot of different atmospheres?” Navigator.
“Yeah. They’re terraforming it. So, a lot of different atmospheric readings.” Co-pilot.
“Sure but… some of these are… bizarre.. Like a… nitrogen? Maybe? And uh… ammonia.” She frowned as the Navigator said this.
“Maybe those are the natural planetary atmosphere. Listen, everything else I’ve got is reading fine.” Pilot.
“Ask ground maybe? Terraforming… accidents?” Navigator.
“Resolute this is Echo Two. Do we have any direct communication with Ground? Over.” Co-pilot. Pause. “No direct comms at this time. But the nav beacons are loud and clear.”
“Probably just some interference. I mean if they’ve had a terraforming accident it’s probably hell on comms.” Pilot.
“Yeah… probably.” Navigator, entirely unconvinced. As she listened she realized Barrow was staring straight at her. Did he suspect something? Was he on their channel?
“Something up?” He asked.
“The navigator thinks there might have been a terraforming accident on the planet.” She explained.
“What? How do you know that?” Barrows looked from her towards the armored door between them.
“I can hear them.” She explained simply.
“Did you say a terraforming accident?” Kinugs looked her way now.
“They say there’s strange atmospherics on the planet.” She revealed.
“I knew it! Labor agitators!” He huffed. “Tell your men to be ready for all manner of terrorism Lieutenant!”
“Mmhh…” Barrow's answer was noncommittal but seemed worried as he focused on Mary. She was still focused on the cockpit however.
“Was there a cruiser in orbit somewhere?” Co-pilot.
“The uh… Tartar or something. At least on the mission brief. We tracking it anywhere?” Pilot.
“I… no. I’ve got us, the orbital refinery platform, and the Resolute.” Navigator.
“Freighters? Shuttles? Corporate Yachts? Anything?” Pilot.
“Nnnnno.” Navigator.
“They aren’t seeing any other traffic in orbit.” She relayed to Barrow.
Barrow cleared his throat and seemed to trigger a mic in his helmet. “Guys, shut the fuck up. Gunny wake up.” A marine besides gunny slapped the man’s shoulder causing him to jerk in his seat and a knife seemed to appear in his hand.
“Wah?” He looked around.
“Something’s up.” Barrow mentioned. “No traffic, planetary comms are down, and terraformers are fucked up.”
Mary expected some smart comment but Gunny tucked his knife away and just listened. “Wait. A… freighter is taking off.” Navigator. “And I’ve got one leaving the orbital platform.”
“Ping them?” Co-pilot. Pilot must have nodded because he continued. “Pinging.” Pause. “Both are automated. Both report… systems are fine. No issues.”
“Nothing from ground? Emergency beacons? Distress? Nothing?” Pilot.
“Nothing.” Co-pilot confirmed.
“I mean… they’d be loath to stop shipping ore. Maybe it’s just really comms trouble and they aren’t flying anything right now. Cruiser might be on the far side assisting with some kind of… recovery effort? I don’t know.” Pilot.
“That might be the case…” The co-pilot did not in fact think that was the case. “Resolute, this is Echo two. Uh… do we have any further… mission details? Are we still go on landing? Over.” He sounded nervous. “We’re still go… they think it’s just comms trouble. But they’re prepping more shuttles now for possible rescue or support efforts.”
“I mean everything I’m seeing is clear. Not even rain clouds.” Pilot.
“They’re saying there’s comms failure on the planet. They’ve found automated traffic only. No distress calls.” Mary relayed. A moment later the pilot keyed in a direct channel and she heard the voice through Barrow’s helmet comm.
“Hey eltea. Just a heads up. We think there’s some kind of comms failure on the planet. And maybe a terraforming accident. No signs of hostile action though. Still prepped to land shortly. But uh giving you a heads up.” So they could talk to him but hadn’t.
“Appreciated. I’ll relay.” He acknowledged. Then she had to try and focus a bit harder as Barrow began to speak to his marines about the situation but the flight crew was still chatting.
“Entering atmo now. Any change in sensor reading?” Pilot.
“No. Area around Argyle looks… okay. Wait, that's the city right?” Navigator.
“Yeah. Uh. Maybe.” Pilot. The shuttle began to shake a bit harder though from what she had experienced before this was just normal for entering atmosphere. They were quiet as the shuttle rumbled. But after another minute the rumbling seemed to get worse instead of better. She was much more acutely aware of the groaning of the metal and just shuddering of everything around her. Kingus’ teeth were rattling and clicking especially. “Okay what the fuck.”
“Yeah… Yeah… Uh… fuck.” Co-pilot. What were they seeing? Just describe it outloud!
“I can’t turn it off. Ground has us locked into our corridor.” Navigator.
“Override!” Pilot.
“I can’t! I’m trying!” Navigator. The shuddering of the shuttle intensified further as it seemed to be moving around, like the pilot was trying to shake them out of whatever their path was and kept getting pulled in. “It’s not using any normal code! I’ve got no fucking clue what this is!”
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” Mary winced at how loudly the Co-pilot yelled that. So far their voices had been full of stress and anxiety, but not fear, nor had they been loud.
“Jesus!” Pilot. What? What was it? “Look at it fucking move! Chaff! Flares! Dump everything!”
“Brace!” Mary cried out as she clutched her harness. She could hear the deployment of flares and chaff in a rapid series of bops and clanks. Then she could hear something hit the shuttle… But it wasn’t an explosion? Just a meaty metal crunch. Her body jerked hard in the harness as the shuttle around her began to spin, or jerk, or she had no idea but it was twisting violently!
“Fuck!” Pilot
“Watch it!” Co-pilot. Red lights immediately came on in the hold of the shuttle, she could hear as well as feel the violent collision as the port wing slammed into something. For a brief instant she could hear the shattering of glass before her hearing was just overwhelmed by the rest of the crash and the screaming around her. The force yanked her hard against the harness as she heard the terrifying screech of metal being pried apart as the hold and the cockpit sections of the shuttle seemed to detach.
Strapped to the jumpseat she could only watch in horror as the marines before her were suddenly spun in a different direction while Barrow and her were tumbling on the now suddenly exposed outside of the cockpit section. She was screaming as loud as her lungs could bear, but he was oddly quiet. As if resigned to their fate. She could see the city spinning around her, and the straps holding her began to give way as they were never intended for this. Barrow reached out and for a moment she reached towards him but then they hit something hard and her body was sent flying free of the seat.
[Continued in Comments]
submitted by RegalLegalEagle to HFY [link] [comments]
Mary had been rather intrigued by the concept of an observation deck on a ship. Curator ship designs didn’t even have windows let alone a whole deck. Yet, deck seemed a bit of a grand exaggeration now that she was standing in the room with the large window dominating one wall. The room was empty aside from herself. Though there were tables and chairs enough to fit a few dozen people easily. No doubt it was more in use if the ship should be hosting dignitaries over some important planet, or picturesque astronomical feature. En route to NT-2125 however they were instead enveloped in the Ink, a sight no one seemed keen on viewing.
Her education had of course touched on the existence of the Ink, but that was about it. She had no idea how it really was used to facilitate FTL travel. What she did know, now that she was looking at it, was that it was rather unpleasant to look at. She had seen purest black. The concept of looking at entirely nothing but a void was fine with her.
The Ink however… While she watched it slowly move around before her eyes it was like a vast ocean of some kind. An ocean of… incredible depth. When she had first stepped into the room and seen it dominating the large window she had thought it to be a mixture of blues, purples, and blacks. But the longer she watched the bubbles and lines slowly moving around she wasn’t sure if she were seeing color at all. Maybe she was seeing not the absence of light, but something opposite to it. As if the Ink gave off… anti-light.
She had no basis for this thought of course. No training, education, or experience to make her believe it was a real thing. Yet, if matter had anti-matter why couldn’t light have anti-light? After all the longer she looked the more if felt like she wasn’t really seeing anything. Nothing real anyway. More like… if she closed her eyes and rubbed against the eyelids and saw the attempts of her brain understand the shadows. Then there was the thought maybe she really was seeing something. Something just under the waves of its vast deep ocean of anti-light. After all, what was causing it to move? Were the waves, ripples, and bubbles purely random? Or was there something making it move?
As unpleasant as her line of thinking was, at least watching it gave her some small alone time on the otherwise crowded vessel. It also gave her an excuse to keep her headset muted. She would much rather deal with staring out at a vast ocean of anti-light than listen to the ship around her at this point. Yet, the moment she began to consider that she saw a flash in the bottom of her vision. Door opening. With a flick she started the program to let her headset gradually increase volume as her ears began to work again.
First sound, click of hard heel on metallic decking. Second sound, sharp intake of breath likely indicating surprise, anxiety, unease, or combination. Third sound, a tongue flicking against teeth before making a disapproving sucking sound. Fourth sound, fabric on fabric rubbing was very low and soft indicating luxury stitching and material. “Hello Director Obli.”
“Translator.” Came the curt reply, though said at a perfectly reasonable volume for normal speaking Mary winced a bit. Going from total silence to even the muted sounds she was getting now was rough at times. Especially as more just kept building. Even at this low level the sound of the ships began to return to her. The groan of metal, the hum of electricity, the distant murmur of people going about their tasks. She had no idea what she’d do without the headset to at least partially mute the world around her.
“Your bodyguards aren’t joining us?” Mary glanced over at the Huul’Rav in his custom suit. She couldn’t see his guards, but she could hear them just outside. She recognized Hrue from his breathing pattern, as smoking had done a number on his lungs. Based on the jingle of grenade tabs the other was Juul.
“If the Curators wanted me dead I highly doubt they’d create you just for the task. They’re more than powerful enough to have no need for subtlety or subterfuge.” Even though the director was talking to her he was looking out the window at the Ink. She could see the disdain on his face rather obviously. A hand moving up to nervously brush his furry chin, even as he tilted his horns side to side.
While he seemed focused on the Ink her mind returned to his curious comment. Did the Curators need to employ subterfuge? Of course they were powerful, but surely there was also use in subterfuge. Regardless, she had not been sent to kill the Director. Or anyone for that matter. She had no training in combat or related topics. He seemed to also be thinking about this though as he looked at her. “You aren’t here to kill me right?”
“No. I’m not here to kill you or anyone else.” She assured him. “I’m just here to facilitate communications during the negotiations.”
“It is curious though. Why the Custodians sent anyone at all…” He trailed off and while she was about to answer he turned and spoke first. “Actually do you mind if we talk somewhere else?” At the end his eyes darted to the window and the swirl of the Ink beyond.
“Certainly.” She nodded, and gestured to the door letting him go first.
“I appreciate it.” He commented and even as he stepped through the door Hrue stepped in front of him to lead, while Juul stepped up behind Mary to follow. “I will admit it spoils my plans a bit. I wanted to talk with you in private a little. But uh… I do not particularly enjoy looking at the Ink.” She could hear his breathing pattern change just being in the hallway, out of sight of the swirling anti-light.
“I’m sure we can find privacy elsewhere. Though I am unsure what kind of private chat you would like. I’m here strictly as a neutral party to facilitate negotiations.” She reminded him.
“As you’ve said many times.” Obli waved off her remark. “Anyway, since you’re new to this sort of thing I just want to introduce you to my underling since you’ll be working for him during the start of the talks.”
Mary frowned at this sudden revelation. “First, I don’t work for you, or your subordinate. I-”
“Are a neutral translator provided by the Curators.” He waved her off again as they walked. All around her she could hear the ship and its crew going about keeping the ship alive as it were. It was an older vessel and every creak and groan of stressed metal, or electrical spark continued to heighten her anxiety. She could not wait to get off this vessel and onto a planet. “I meant work for him in a more metaphorical sense. I know you likely expected to work with me throughout these talks but it’s just not how labor talks to management. They don’t get to start by talking to a Director. They’ll start with someone just important enough to garner attention but with no real power. If he fails, I swoop in and save things. If he succeeds I get to take credit in the end and talk about how I knew he was the man for the job.”
The further they walked from the observation deck and the Ink the more confident and in fact arrogant Obli got. She wasn’t particularly keen on his behavior but she had at least grown accustomed to it on the trip so far. “Why then did you spend most of this trip testing my abilities as a translator?”
“Because I was trying to figure out your angle.” He replied with a glance back over his shoulder as they reached a lift. The four of them filtered into it before Juul hit the button for the hangar deck.
“I don’t have an angle. I was instructed to come here and facilitate-” She began but he yet again waved her off.
“Neutral yes yes. But why? We’ve never needed nor requested Curator assistance for anything like this. We have a proven history of successfully ending labor disputes and organization efforts. So why have the curators bothered to send you? Shouldn’t you be trying to help keep the FDF from falling apart? Or spreading the word of the Curators to the masses or something? That is something they do right? Proselytize?” Mary was fairly confident Obli tried to be dismissive about the Curators just to make himself more comfortable. It was a minor enough annoyance to overlook. Though she wondered if it actually helped ease his fragile ego.
“The Curators do not proselytize no. They have no need. They exist. They act. They do not need the approval of others, nor belief in their correctness. I am here because I have been ordered to be here. I was told I must assist in negotiating between the belligerent parties on NT-2125 and observe the outcome. That is all. If the Curators have a deeper reason for sending me here I do not know it.” While she spoke she could already hear Obli clicking his tongue in disapproval. Hrue was trying, and failing, to breathe quietly. Juul was running her hand over a smooth metallic object in her right pocket, slowly turning it over.
“I know you are flesh and blood, but you’re more like your creators than I find comforting.” Obli very bluntly commented.
“I do not exist for your comfort.” Mary pointedly replied, which made Obli click his tongue in disapproval once more. By that point the lift stopped and the doors opened. The rush of sound from the hangar deck made her wince a moment as she had to deal with the sudden volume as she lowered her headset sensitivity.
“I don’t think you exist for your own comfort either.” Obli remarked, now smirking a little at her obvious discomfort. There was little she could do but cast a glare in his direction as the pain subsided and the sounds took on a more muted level. Looking out across the hangar she could see dozens of people moving around and working on the ship’s complement of shuttles, and fighters. No one was expecting combat, but that didn’t stop the captain from preparing anyway. While she was told most of the machinery operated at frequencies most species couldn’t hear it always gave her a headache to be around so many buzzing, grinding, churning machines.
“Regardless.” Obli continued. “I want to make it clear I have been authorized to extend to the Curators our most sincere intent to be friends. If there is anything we can do to make your job more comfortable let me know. And if you see fit to pass on anything you hear from the labor organizers direct compensation is on offer.”
“I am here as a neutral party.” She reminded him yet again. But he just spread his hands and smiled.
“We’re willing to pay for even what you would consider banter and gossip. Anything you hear. My subordinate is also authorized to compensate you but I’d prefer a direct copy.” He held out an encryption cylinder. While she had no intention of passing along anything she did take it. It might be useful for other reasons.
“I don’t have a bank account, you know. Or any credits.” When she told him this he looked entirely confused. “I am not paid for my efforts. Curators do not use currency of any kind. Resources are simply provided as needed.”
Director Obli’s look of pure disgust was even more obvious than when he’d been in the observation deck. “And here I thought they were civilized… But it’s then all the more important for you to start building up your own nest egg!” He began to pull a credit chip from his pocket but she waved him off.
“I’m not chipped nor do I have a slate.” This time he scoffed and looked confused even as he held it out.
“You can take the whole thing. How do you expect to pay for anything on the planet without credits?” He seemed genuinely baffled.
“I don’t expect to pay for anything on the planet. Your company has extended their most sincere intent to be friends after all.” As she tilted her head a little while looking at him Obli just snorted.
“Ah… This is why my assistant was babbling about an expense waiver. Yes… There are limits to it, you know. Food, drink, necessities only.” Mary just stared at him until he finally sighed and tucked the credit chip back into his pocket. “Fine. It’s best for you to go change now then, the shuttle will be leaving as soon as we hit real space.”
She was wondering why he’d brought her here directly. “And why am I changing?”
“Well, you can go as you are if you like. But this isn’t a Curator ship. The Resolute has to drop further away from the planet so the shuttle will be in space to close the gap to the planet. And, I mean clearly Curator tech never breaks or has any accidents but our poor mortal hands make poor mortal vessels.” Obli spread his hands as if to highlight his own soft, well manicured hands.
“Fine.” While her suit wasn’t as comfortable as her normal clothes she didn’t intend on being the only one killed by some sort of accident on the way to the planet. It would set a terrible precedent. So she walked away from Obli and his guards then towards the hangar’s locker room.
As she strode across the deck, stepping over fuel and coolant lines she tried to make some sense of the mass of sound around her. Obli no doubt thought she was beyond earshot when he spoke to his guards. “Strange bird. Easy on the eyes though.”
Hrue cleared his throat a moment to reply in a gravely, raspy voice. “Think the Curators made her to be attractive to most species somehow? Robot magic or something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I still don’t know why they sent anyone at all. I don’t trust those damned machines.” Obli replied. She had expected this sort of reaction. It was in line with their comments during the trip.
Other than that most of the technicians, mechanics, and pilots moving around the hangar seemed much more focused on their work than anything else. Grumblings about the captain’s standards, and an apparent lack of spare parts. Based on the overall comments it seemed to be more about not wanting to do so much work rather than serious concerns over abilities to keep ships functional. Or so she hoped.
Once in the locker room she made her way to the back where a special case had been installed for her suit. While she would have preferred to travel on a Curator vessel she was glad to at least get a Curator suit. They didn’t have many organics, but the suits they made for her and the other Lifted were absolutely the best in terms of survivability, durability, and protection. Just not… comfort.
Since the locker room seemed to be empty she quickly stripped down, setting aside the encryption cylinder Obli had given her. For a moment she examined herself, along the deep red feathers of her head and neck, gradually turning to a sunburst yellow down her torso, and finally a rich deep blue along her legs and tail. Did species find her attractive? If the Curators had intended for this they likely would have included it in her training surely. Must just be Obli and his guards.
Stepping up to the Curator case she hit the activation button and then held perfectly still as the case opened, arms moving out to begin affixing the suit to her body. First she felt the snap of metal rings around her ankles, wrists, neck, hips, and ribs before the rest of the exoskeleton was built up around it. Then came the cool mesh of the inner suit pulled up underneath it and against her feathers. Next was the composites slotted into the outside, layered and overlapped for maximum coverage. Finally she prepared herself for the final step as two hoses connected to the metal collar around her neck. She hated this part.
When the liquid began to pump into the lining between the mesh and the composite layer it was ice cold and caused her to gasp and shudder as it filled in. It took a few minutes while she tried to carefully control her breathing and push past the cold. Once it was finally full the suit activated and the liquid turned solid, controlled by the sophisticated Curator chip in her skull. Her temperature quickly began to return to normal now and she took a slow deep breath in relief before taking the helmet the case offered last.
She refrained from putting the helmet on yet though, it wasn’t quite big enough for her taste and always rubbed her eartips. Walking back out into the hangar she could feel the suit somewhat flowing around her movements. It would turn liquid to move, then solid when it didn’t need to. She was also told it would go selectively rigid to deflect projectiles. A feature she hoped to never test.
Looking around a moment she saw Obli near the closest shuttle, speaking to someone wearing an executive pattern suit. Luxurious and comfortable, but she’d prefer the Curator suit in an emergency. Next to him was a human in a deep blue armored suit with steel accents. As she watched he draped a travel cloak over the shoulders of the suit. An interesting touch. Walking towards them she had to stop a moment to let a rumbling hangar tug pass. Several technicians rode in the back, carried to their next task.
Judging on the whine of the back left wheel she figured their next task might be to fix the tug itself. Either way she continued on up to Director Obli. “Translator. I’d like you to meet Kingus.” Obli gestured to the figure in the executive suit. Up close she could see through his helmet’s faceplate and examine the Nikvic inside. Rather stubby bone ridges. Rather young then for an executive.
“Translator.” He nodded to her.
“Kingus, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Mary, though translator is just fine as well.” She took an amicable approach for now.
“Yes. This is my bodyguard, Eli.” He gestured to the human next to him, who made for an imposing figure in his armor. With his helmet in place the steel visor reflected a distorted reflection of herself back at her.
“Ma’am.” He nodded and extended a hand out from under his cloak. Shifting her helmet to her left hand she carefully reached out to shake his hand in return.
“Eli, it’s nice to meet you.” The first human she’d found in the employ of the company. Though she knew most of the problems on the planet were related to their human miners. Allegedly at least.
“Nice to meet you as well ma’am.” His shake was firm but not aggressive. “We should be ready shortly. They’re loading the last of some food supplies and then we’re waiting on the marines.”
“Food supplies… I don’t even know what we’re taking down there. Argyle is a full fledged city. The problems its facing are related to labor terrorists. Not famine.” Kingus mentioned with a huff.
“It’s likely my food.” Mary answered. “The Curators were unsure how long I would be here and sent me with a full complement of prepared meals.”
“Oh.” Kingus coughed lightly. “Well… that’s fine then. I wasn’t aware you had special dietary needs. But the marines at least should be here. What’s taking them so long?” He tried to deflect a little and looked around.
As if summoned by his complaint she saw a group of human soldiers approaching the shuttle. The few times she had seen soldiers so far they’d been in smart uniforms and moving with purpose and sharp specific gestures. These… did not look nearly so impressive. Or poised. Instead the group just walked casually towards them, in a mixture of armor sets. Most had a haphazard drab olive green coat of paint but much of it was chipped and worn. Not to mention much of it was also covered in writing, drawings, and decals that she doubted were officially sanctioned.
Only the man in the lead looked to be in a truly official uniform set of armor. “I’m Lieutenant Barrow. I assume this is the shuttle we want?”
“Barrow, this is Kingus our Executive Labor Liason.” Director Obli introduced them. “This is our translator Mary.”
“Never seen one of you before. What species are you?” Mary turned to look at the soldier who’d spoken to her. He was just next to the officer, and his armor looked particularly beat up. She also noticed signs of scorch marks in several places. Unlike the single smooth faceplate of Eli’s armor his helmet looked more like a scowling face with golden lenses in the eyes.
“I am not an official species. I was Lifted by the Curators to act as a translator.” She informed him directly.
“Interesting. So you’re a bird. But you’ve got ears. What’s with the headset?” He gestured up at it as she reflexively reached up with her free hand to touch the side.
“There was a slight miscalculation in my creation and I find most settings to be… uncomfortably loud. The headset is to regulate the volume of my surroundings to prevent damage and discomfort.” She explained.
“What… wait. The Curators made a translator who gets hurt by sound? Am I understanding that right?” Mary frowned at his comment.
“That’s somewhat reductive.” She tried to deflect.
“Is it wrong?” He pressed.
“It’s not entirely inaccurate.” Disparaging on the work of the Curators wasn’t something she was comfortable with.
“That’s a fancy way of saying I’m right. So your job, which is listening to things, actively hurts you. Man… sucks to be you.” A few of the other marines snickered and giggled behind him as Mary frowned.
“Gunny, that’s enough.” Barrow finally waved off the other marine.
“Where’s the rest of your company? And the Major?” Obli asked now, thankfully moving things along.
“Elsewhere. He said if you’re not going to the planet yet he doesn’t see a reason to go either. My platoon and I are sufficient at this time. Once you’re ready to head down then the rest of the company will deploy.” Barrow shrugged. “You send your flunkey first he sends his flunkey too.”
“We have concerns about possible terrorist strikes on civilians during the labor talks. Are you sure a platoon is really sufficient?” Kingus asked.
The officer sucked in a breath, likely about to answer but Gunny cut him off. “Isn’t it interesting. All across the fringe you corporate types like to talk about how safe and secure your mining colonies are. Biding everyone to bring their families and get to work. Yet, the moment a union starts to form you start screaming about terrorists and how you need the military to keep order.”
“Gunny.” The officer hissed at him. Gunny waved it off a moment as the officer cleared his throat. “Your own reports suggest corporate security is robust enough to secure the city. We have no intel to suggest any threats of terrorist strikes by the miners are really valid. A platoon will suffice for now. If the situation changes the rest of the company can deploy very quickly I assure you.”
“Fine. But remember just because the miners in question are human doesn’t mean you can give them free reign. The FDF and by extension the marines rely on our funding to keep functioning.” Kingus replied.
“You never let us fucking forget.” Gunny muttered that barely under his breath. Neither Kingus or Obli seemed to pick up on this but Mary did.
“Many species across the Fringe have been generous enough to accept many human refugees. We obviously seek a future of cooperation and mutual success. This is not about humans being singled out. They have been given the same rights and contracts as all other species who join our corporate family.” Director Obli smiled and spread his hands in a friendly gesture. “We ask only that you protect the talks because they’re so important to our continued wellbeing as united front here on the Fringe. The Tide comes for us all and we must be ready. Together.”
“Well said Director.” Kingus nodded in support.
“Fucking please…” Gunny muttered and made some sort of gesture with his fist making a pumping motion in front of his hips. From the reports the Curators had given her, really what it seemed like was the humans massively increased their productivity, but in exchange wanted better treatment from the various industrial consortiums. The executives like Obli enjoyed the productivity but felt treating them better would set a bad precedent.
Across the fringe however humans had been getting their way more often than not. NT-2125 was by far the biggest, most high profile case, but she didn’t imagine it would be anything special. “Yes, well, we are here to keep you safe and make sure no one kills anyone. On either side.” The officer assured them and then gestured at the shuttle. “Shall we?”
“Have a nice flight Translator. Remember to call me.” Obli smiled and nodded at her.
“I’m sure we’ll be in touch, Director.” She finally pulled her helmet up and on, feeling it settle into place with a click and a soft hiss at it pressurized. The very tips of her ears were lightly pressed in by the sides which was why she’d waited this long to put it on. The marines began to board the shuttle first, shuffling along rows in the center to get into seats with metal shoulder restraints that would help hold them in place.
“Hey, so you’re a Lifted? What do the Curators want you here for? What’s the deal?” Gunny asked as he waited near the back for the others to shuffle in.
“I am not at liberty at this time to discuss the Curators or their work.” Mary’s forehead felt slightly warm as she answered him.
“Oh come on. There’s got to be something special the Curators want you here for.” Gunny insisted.
“I am not at liberty at this time to discuss the Curators or their work.” Mary’s forehead felt a bit warmer still.
“Gunny leave her alone.” Barrow instructed.
“C’mon why a translator at all? We’ve got earpieces! I’ve never seen a translator before, let alone a Curator one!” By now the other marines were seated and Mary began to shuffle up the row looking for a free seat.
“Ma’am you’ll need to take one of the jumpseats up front. These harnesses aren’t made for your Curator suit.” Barrow tapped one of the set of shoulder restraints. So she kept shuffling past the row of marines towards the front.
“I don’t rely on machine translation. I am fluent in over six hundred languages and forms of communication. I listen to all parties and ensure nothing is lost in translation.” She assured them.
“Only six hundred? I knew of a guy who was fluent in over six million forms of communication.” Gunny’s voice had a slightly different tone to it. Was he joking?
“Six million seems excessive. I assure you I am well trained for my job.” Now at the front of the shuttle she found the jumpseat in question. Yet, when she went to pull the seat down the dangerous whine and groan of the metal hinged did not inspire her with confidence. Still it was her mission so she settled into the seat and went about trying to figure out the harness.
Barrow approached her and pointed to the straps in order to help her out. “You’ll be fine. This is really just a precaution.” The Lieutenant nodded and gave her shoulder a pat. She smiled up at him then, her faceplate clear unlike their armor. It was thought to be better for non-verbal communication cues if people she spoke to could see her face. Kingus and Eli were the last to settle in seats nearby.
“Hey! Corpse!” Gunny called out as Eli settled into his seat and set the shoulder restraints with practiced ease.
“Excuse me?” Eli looked across the aisle at Gunny.
“You’re corporate security right? Corp-sec.” Gunny more carefully pronounced. But Mary was positive he hadn’t made a mistake earlier.
“I’m a private bodyguard. I work on contract.” Eli corrected him.
“Oh well anyway the fuck is with the cloak?” Gunny gestured at the deep blue cloak draped over Eli’s shoulders and body. “You’re in a suit right? Kind of the point of a space suit to be waterproof and somewhat heat proof and shit yeah? Kind of defeats the point of a cloak right? So what gives?”
“It’s about looking stylish. Something you clearly have no concept of Gunnery Sergeant.” Eli’s response seemed to take Gunny by surprise. The Gunny? Was Gunny a nickname or a title? Either way the marines around snickered and chuckled a bit though she could hear Gunny snort.
Barrow took the jumpseat next to her instead of one of the more secure seats. Possibly to help set her at ease. Which she appreciated. “So, Lieutenant. Do you expect this mission to be dangerous?”
“What? Protecting the talks? No. We’ve done this a few times so far. It’s pretty boring. No one has actually done anything. Usually there are some protests. Corp-sec shove people around. Both sides are upset. But no one dies. The talks advance. The miners get a bit more pay and benefits. Both sides are mutually annoyed with the other. And I’m sure in a few years it’ll all happen again.” Barrow shrugged and seemed entirely unconcerned.
“Don’t be so flippant.” Kingus said even as Barrow seemed to dismiss any concerns. “We’ve had some communications troubles from NT-2125. The work of labor agitators no doubt.”
“Communications troubles? Why are you telling us that now?” Barrow asked, showing some concern.
“I thought it was common knowledge?” Kingus sounded genuinely confused that Barrow was unaware of this. “Is it not? Executives on the ground have spoken of damaged communications systems, and delayed reports from outlying facilities.”
“Have there been delays in ore shipments? Or minerals or whatever?” Barrow asked.
“No. In fact due to our exemplary corporate structure we’re seeing increases across the board.” Kingus nodded, clearly proud of this fact.
“So… in your mind the labor agitators are breaking lines of communication. But not… the ore shipments which you find significantly more valuable?” Barrow asked, clearly not buying the idea.
“Don’t be complacent! Just because labor organizers have been rarely violent in the past doesn’t mean it will always be the case! I want your men on their highest alertness lieutenant!” Kingus stressed.
“Yes sir, I’ll be sure to pass that along.” Barrow assured him, even though Mary could tell by his tone that he had no intention of doing anything.
“What’s the planet like?” She asked next.
“The locals have called it Argyle.” Kingus answered. “It’s our largest mining operation and a highlight of our terraforming technology. A dozen zones have been established across the surface and ten of them are already fully habitable without a suit. We expect work to be done on six zones within the solar cycle, and shall open up another dozen to be finished within the next three solar cycles. Mineral and ore outputs are quadruple expectations. Mostly thanks to our unequaled refinery efficiency.”
“Or maybe cause you’re exploiting the shit out of your workers.” Again Gunny muttered this quietly enough to be missed by the others. Mary was settling into her seat as best she could when she heard the engines spool up. Inside the armored cockpit behind her she could hear the pilots flipping switches.
“Systems check complete. Echo shuttle requesting clearance for departure.” She wasn’t sure if that was the pilot or co-pilot. Deeper, possibly male.
“We got a flight plan?” Lighter possible female. Maybe that was the pilot?
“Yeah.” Navigator. Younger, more youthful. Not clear if male or female. “Not much to it. Follow the automated beacons. Their spaceport is big enough for Tagmax freighters so it should be easy peasy lemon squeezy.” Human definitely.
“We’re clear.” Co-pilot.
“Okay.” There was a moment where Mary’s hearing seemed to echo as she heard both the pilot in the cockpit and over the speakers in the hold at the same time. “We’re in real space and disembarking now. Remember to keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times until we come to a full and complete stop. We know you’ve got no choice in airlines today so suck it up because we’re all you got.” Also definitely human.
Gunny seemed to wiggle and settle in his seat, as if to take a nap. In general the marine chatter in the hold seemed very relaxed and calm. A good sign. The most nervous person was likely Kingus whose breathing she could tell was getting a bit quicker and more nervous. After another few seconds she heard the engine spooling get more intense and the shuttle picked up off the deck. Kingus tensed at this as his hands gripped the seat’s armrests more tightly.
While Mary wished she was in a superior Curator craft she was relatively relaxed. She’d flown many times, especially in her training to make sure she could translate even in stressful situations. Part of her wanted to mute her headset for now, to free herself of the need to listen to every jostle of the shuttle and the people within it, but she knew it was more important to maintain her ability to listen to the flight crew.
For several minutes however she mostly had to fight her growing desire to take a nap. Gunny’s breathing shifted into a soft and consistent snore so he already fell asleep. The gentle rumble of the ship around her and her secure nature also lent itself to a desire to nap… “Hey did we check the sensor calibration before we left?” Navigator.
“Yeah, total systems check. Everything cleared. I’m not seeing any problems.” Pilot.
“Uuuhhh… Okay.” Their tone implied things were not okay. She turned her head a little, and began to dial up her headset, ignoring the other sounds and focusing on the cockpit. Another minute went by as she just had the hum of the engines and marine chatter around her. “We’re sure the sensors were checked?”
“Yeah. Why what’s wrong?” Pilot.
“It’s just… uh… doesn’t make sense. I’m reading like… aaa lot of different atmospheres?” Navigator.
“Yeah. They’re terraforming it. So, a lot of different atmospheric readings.” Co-pilot.
“Sure but… some of these are… bizarre.. Like a… nitrogen? Maybe? And uh… ammonia.” She frowned as the Navigator said this.
“Maybe those are the natural planetary atmosphere. Listen, everything else I’ve got is reading fine.” Pilot.
“Ask ground maybe? Terraforming… accidents?” Navigator.
“Resolute this is Echo Two. Do we have any direct communication with Ground? Over.” Co-pilot. Pause. “No direct comms at this time. But the nav beacons are loud and clear.”
“Probably just some interference. I mean if they’ve had a terraforming accident it’s probably hell on comms.” Pilot.
“Yeah… probably.” Navigator, entirely unconvinced. As she listened she realized Barrow was staring straight at her. Did he suspect something? Was he on their channel?
“Something up?” He asked.
“The navigator thinks there might have been a terraforming accident on the planet.” She explained.
“What? How do you know that?” Barrows looked from her towards the armored door between them.
“I can hear them.” She explained simply.
“Did you say a terraforming accident?” Kinugs looked her way now.
“They say there’s strange atmospherics on the planet.” She revealed.
“I knew it! Labor agitators!” He huffed. “Tell your men to be ready for all manner of terrorism Lieutenant!”
“Mmhh…” Barrow's answer was noncommittal but seemed worried as he focused on Mary. She was still focused on the cockpit however.
“Was there a cruiser in orbit somewhere?” Co-pilot.
“The uh… Tartar or something. At least on the mission brief. We tracking it anywhere?” Pilot.
“I… no. I’ve got us, the orbital refinery platform, and the Resolute.” Navigator.
“Freighters? Shuttles? Corporate Yachts? Anything?” Pilot.
“Nnnnno.” Navigator.
“They aren’t seeing any other traffic in orbit.” She relayed to Barrow.
Barrow cleared his throat and seemed to trigger a mic in his helmet. “Guys, shut the fuck up. Gunny wake up.” A marine besides gunny slapped the man’s shoulder causing him to jerk in his seat and a knife seemed to appear in his hand.
“Wah?” He looked around.
“Something’s up.” Barrow mentioned. “No traffic, planetary comms are down, and terraformers are fucked up.”
Mary expected some smart comment but Gunny tucked his knife away and just listened. “Wait. A… freighter is taking off.” Navigator. “And I’ve got one leaving the orbital platform.”
“Ping them?” Co-pilot. Pilot must have nodded because he continued. “Pinging.” Pause. “Both are automated. Both report… systems are fine. No issues.”
“Nothing from ground? Emergency beacons? Distress? Nothing?” Pilot.
“Nothing.” Co-pilot confirmed.
“I mean… they’d be loath to stop shipping ore. Maybe it’s just really comms trouble and they aren’t flying anything right now. Cruiser might be on the far side assisting with some kind of… recovery effort? I don’t know.” Pilot.
“That might be the case…” The co-pilot did not in fact think that was the case. “Resolute, this is Echo two. Uh… do we have any further… mission details? Are we still go on landing? Over.” He sounded nervous. “We’re still go… they think it’s just comms trouble. But they’re prepping more shuttles now for possible rescue or support efforts.”
“I mean everything I’m seeing is clear. Not even rain clouds.” Pilot.
“They’re saying there’s comms failure on the planet. They’ve found automated traffic only. No distress calls.” Mary relayed. A moment later the pilot keyed in a direct channel and she heard the voice through Barrow’s helmet comm.
“Hey eltea. Just a heads up. We think there’s some kind of comms failure on the planet. And maybe a terraforming accident. No signs of hostile action though. Still prepped to land shortly. But uh giving you a heads up.” So they could talk to him but hadn’t.
“Appreciated. I’ll relay.” He acknowledged. Then she had to try and focus a bit harder as Barrow began to speak to his marines about the situation but the flight crew was still chatting.
“Entering atmo now. Any change in sensor reading?” Pilot.
“No. Area around Argyle looks… okay. Wait, that's the city right?” Navigator.
“Yeah. Uh. Maybe.” Pilot. The shuttle began to shake a bit harder though from what she had experienced before this was just normal for entering atmosphere. They were quiet as the shuttle rumbled. But after another minute the rumbling seemed to get worse instead of better. She was much more acutely aware of the groaning of the metal and just shuddering of everything around her. Kingus’ teeth were rattling and clicking especially. “Okay what the fuck.”
“Yeah… Yeah… Uh… fuck.” Co-pilot. What were they seeing? Just describe it outloud!
“I can’t turn it off. Ground has us locked into our corridor.” Navigator.
“Override!” Pilot.
“I can’t! I’m trying!” Navigator. The shuddering of the shuttle intensified further as it seemed to be moving around, like the pilot was trying to shake them out of whatever their path was and kept getting pulled in. “It’s not using any normal code! I’ve got no fucking clue what this is!”
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” Mary winced at how loudly the Co-pilot yelled that. So far their voices had been full of stress and anxiety, but not fear, nor had they been loud.
“Jesus!” Pilot. What? What was it? “Look at it fucking move! Chaff! Flares! Dump everything!”
“Brace!” Mary cried out as she clutched her harness. She could hear the deployment of flares and chaff in a rapid series of bops and clanks. Then she could hear something hit the shuttle… But it wasn’t an explosion? Just a meaty metal crunch. Her body jerked hard in the harness as the shuttle around her began to spin, or jerk, or she had no idea but it was twisting violently!
“Fuck!” Pilot
“Watch it!” Co-pilot. Red lights immediately came on in the hold of the shuttle, she could hear as well as feel the violent collision as the port wing slammed into something. For a brief instant she could hear the shattering of glass before her hearing was just overwhelmed by the rest of the crash and the screaming around her. The force yanked her hard against the harness as she heard the terrifying screech of metal being pried apart as the hold and the cockpit sections of the shuttle seemed to detach.
Strapped to the jumpseat she could only watch in horror as the marines before her were suddenly spun in a different direction while Barrow and her were tumbling on the now suddenly exposed outside of the cockpit section. She was screaming as loud as her lungs could bear, but he was oddly quiet. As if resigned to their fate. She could see the city spinning around her, and the straps holding her began to give way as they were never intended for this. Barrow reached out and for a moment she reached towards him but then they hit something hard and her body was sent flying free of the seat.
[Continued in Comments]
2023.06.01 03:43 bulletbh 2019 Honda Pilot engine running rough
I have a 2019 Honda Pilot and the engine is running a little rough when idling and at low speeds. At higher speeds it seems to even out but at idle or starting to accelerate the RPM randomly jumps up by about 200 or 300 RPMs and then drops back after about a second. I am not sure what would cause this but suspect it is something with the air or fuel mixture or throttle control. I cannot find if this vehicle has a TPS or not. It recently had an oil change and I changed to air filter about 6000 miles ago. As of today it is starting to get worse. RPMs jumping up more often. Any ideas what would cause this?
submitted by bulletbh to AskMechanics [link] [comments]
2023.06.01 03:34 harry-jg How to Pay Hulu Outside in USA
Can't access Hulu outside the United States? It's as if the universe has conspired against you, demanding you provide a US credit card and asking you to physically be in the country. This becomes particularly vexing when you're on a vacation in, say, Paris, and all you want is to binge-watch your favourite show while munching on a croissant. Turns out, renewing your subscription can be as complicated as explaining the plot of a time-travel movie to your grandmother.
So here's the trick: You need a VPN. Hulu, being the sly fox that it is, looks at your IP address to see if you're within the good ol' USA. But a VPN, with its digital cloak of invisibility, lets you masquerade as a Yank, regardless of your actual whereabouts. Meaning, you could be sipping sake in Tokyo or riding a camel in Egypt, but Hulu will think you're eating apple pie in the heartland.
Through diligent labour, my team and I scrutinized over 60 VPNs designed to finagle Hulu's geoblocks. And standing tall among the crowd, we have ExpressVPN. It's the Brad Pitt of VPNs, offering multiple US servers and lightning-fast speeds to let you access Hulu without as much as a hiccup. And just to sweeten the deal, you can take ExpressVPN for a spin without any risk, as it's protected by a 30-day money-back guarantee. If it doesn't tickle your fancy, getting your money back is as easy as pie.
Getting Cozy with Hulu Globally: A VPN's Role in Your Streaming Escapades
Ever tried to access Hulu outside the United States? It's like attempting to communicate with a mime—nearly impossible and often met with an unamused silence. Hulu, with its treasure trove of binge-worthy content, unfortunately, dons an armor of licensing restrictions that keep it securely tethered to the Land of the Free. Its digital gatekeepers, aptly called geoblocks, detect the non-US IP address and give you a digital cold shoulder. And if you thought that's the end of your woes, there's more! Setting up a new Hulu account would need a US credit card, a hurdle that's hard to leap.
In these dire times, one can count on the prowess of a Virtual Private Network (VPN). Picture a VPN as a savvy undercover agent, masterfully disguising your IP address as if you're lounging on a couch somewhere in New York, even when you're actually sunbathing in Barcelona. A VPN juggles your internet traffic, directing it through a server of your choice, thereby replacing your original IP address with a shiny new one from the chosen location. This high-tech sleight of hand can bamboozle streaming platforms into thinking you're within their allowed borders.
In layman's terms, pick a VPN server located in the US and voila! You get a US IP address. When Hulu gazes upon this borrowed IP, it believes you're a proud dweller of Uncle Sam's land, lifting the barriers. Suddenly, signing up, renewing subscriptions, and accessing your beloved Hulu shows become a cakewalk, no matter where on the globe you're perched.
ExpressVPN
Imagine you're trying to sprint a marathon on stilts - pretty inconvenient and unstable, right? Now swap those stilts with a pair of world-class running shoes, and suddenly you're Usain Bolt. That's precisely the upgrade ExpressVPN offers when you're trying to subscribe to Hulu or streaming in Ultra High Definition.
In a test of virtual athleticism, ExpressVPN's New York, Dallas, and Chicago servers gave a stunning performance. Clocking in at an average speed of 91 Mbps, they fell only a hair short of my prime 100 Mbps connection. It’s like running a race and placing a close second to a cheetah. Given that you need merely a humble 25 Mbps to stream in UHD, this VPN crosses the finish line with excessive energy to spare. Even when I indulged in a hair-raising episode of American Horror Story, buffering was a foreign concept.
In addition to its impressive speed, ExpressVPN offers a roster of 24 US locations, akin to a digital buffet of options for connecting to Hulu on your world travels. Even from the other side of the world (9,153 km away, to be exact), my New Jersey server stood like a steadfast guard, ensuring my connection remained unbroken.
What's more, ExpressVPN’s MediaStreamer acts as a secret decoder ring, enabling you to watch Hulu on devices that usually don't shake hands with VPNs. PlayStation, Xbox, or even that one smart TV you got at a Black Friday sale years ago; all can be brought into the fold. The setup process was quicker than making a microwave popcorn bag. Simply jot down a code from your ExpressVPN account dashboard, feed it into your smart TV’s network settings, and voila! I found myself catching up on Hulu shows on my antiquated Samsung Tizen TV with no hiccups.
While ExpressVPN might ask for a few more pennies than its fellow VPN services, the sheer performance justifies the price tag. It's like paying extra for a VIP concert ticket - you're assured of the best experience. And with a 30-day money-back guarantee, you can test drive it on Hulu, no strings attached. And if you decide it's not your cup of tea, their customer support is there to process your refund without quibble. They’re rather nice about it, really.
CyberGhostVPN
Picture CyberGhost as the highly competent butler of your digital mansion, ensuring a seamless Hulu streaming experience. This ace up the VPN sleeve not only provides fast and reliable connections but serves them with a silver platter specifically designed for Hulu. Imagine a world where buffering is as extinct as dial-up internet, all thanks to CyberGhost’s Hulu-optimized servers. I frolicked in this paradise while renewing my subscription using their Miami server.
Using CyberGhost's Hulu-optimized servers is like walking through an automatic door; it's a breeze. The interface is as user-friendly as a Labrador puppy. A simple peck on your keyboard typing "Hulu" in the search bar under the "For streaming" tab, and you're given a list of servers that are specially designed to work magic on Hulu. Better still, some of these servers have undergone a digital personal training regimen to optimize their performance for Fire Stick and Android TV specifically.
While CyberGhost may not be as predictably consistent as ExpressVPN, akin to a weather forecast, its connections still hold strong. Think of it like a relay race with the US, UK, and Australia servers, each passing the baton without letting the speed dip below an 82 Mbps average. I was treated to uninterrupted feasts of "Santa Evita" and "House of the Dragon" in Ultra High Definition, without so much as a single awkward pause or hiccup.
Private Internet Access
Imagine a scenario where you have a myriad of IP addresses at your disposal for streaming Hulu like a monarch, that's exactly what PIA offers. This VPN is a playground teeming with server options in the US, reducing your chances of being in the middle of an overcrowded digital mosh pit. Trust me, you'd prefer your own breathing room when renewing your Hulu subscription, which I did with as much ease as butter sliding off a hot knife. With such an extensive server network, you have a buffet of alternative routes should Hulu unexpectedly pull the roadblock on one.
What sets PIA apart from the crowd is its penchant for personalization. Think of it as the bespoke suit of VPN apps. This little wonder comes with an array of widgets that are as flexible as a yoga instructor, ready to twist and bend to suit your interface aesthetic. Additionally, it hands you the reins of encryption, allowing you to choose between the Fort Knox of security - the AES 256-bit encryption, or the slightly more fleet-footed but still quite secure AES 128-bit encryption.
Now, this plethora of customization options could be a bit like being lost in a tech version of Narnia for the newly initiated. It's a lot to take in. But give it a little time, a few exploratory clicks and swipes, and you'll find the app's interface becomes as familiar and easy to navigate as your favorite neighborhood bistro.
Five Secret Passages to Hulu Land Without a US Credit Card in 2023
Juggling through the nuances of signing up for Hulu, especially without a US credit card, can make your head spin faster than a hamster on a wheel. So let's pop the lid off Pandora's box and unveil the five undercover methods to bring Hulu to your fingertips.
Before you sprint into action, let's cross off a couple of quick checks:
Make sure to equip yourself with a VPN. Any VPN on my coveted shortlist should do the trick, but I would tilt my hat towards ExpressVPN. It zips along at breakneck speeds and boasts a generous offering of US servers to select from
Now you're in the right gear, but you need to be in the right place. As Hulu only pays house visits to those who reside in the US (virtually, of course), that's where you should connect.
With these quick checks done and dusted, you're ready to proceed. Brace yourself as we unveil the five secret scrolls to gain access to the tantalizing world of Hulu.
MyGiftCardSupply: Your Key to Unlock Hulu's Magic Box
A Hulu gift card from MyGiftCardSupply is your golden ticket to the land of unlimited entertainment.
Step 1: Buying a ticket. Venture into the online bazaar of MyGiftCardSupply, and procure a Hulu gift card ranging from $25 to $100. The amount depends on how deep you want to dive into the ocean of Hulu content. Be sure to sign up if you haven't already - think of it as a friendly handshake.
Step 2: Sniff out the code. Once the gift card purchase is complete, you'll receive an email with the precious code. Open it, and gently copy the code.
Step 3: Claim your prize. Stride confidently to Hulu's redemption page, type in your hard-earned code, and create your account. Do remember to use a US address and zip code when signing up – they are quite particular about that.
Step 4: Let the show begin. Slide into Hulu's log-in page and gently type in your shiny new credentials.
Step 5: The Grand Finale. Now it's time to sit back, relax, and bask in the glory of endless entertainment on Hulu. Step into your personal streaming universe and enjoy the show!
Hitching a Ride on iTunes US: Your Unconventional Route to Hulu
Now, let's stroll down a different route, this time, a path known as 'iTunes US.'
Step 1: Set up camp in the Land of Apple. Visit Apple's website and pitch your digital tent by creating a new account. Consider this your personal American outpost in the universe of iTunes.
Step 2: Stock up on provisions. Replenish your digital coffers either directly through iTunes or via a US iTunes gift card, which is akin to your secret stash of apple cider in the cellar.
Step 3: Summon Hulu. Type "Hulu" into the search bar and download the app. Much like calling a pet, it'll come running and install itself onto your device.
Step 4: Enter the realm of Hulu. Use your iTunes funds to either get a shiny new plan or renew an existing subscription, and then log into your Hulu account. This is you officially checking into the grand Hulu Hotel.
Step 5: Savour the spectacle. With all these steps complete, you're now in a position to pay for and enjoy your Hulu account. It's time to kick back and indulge in the smorgasbord of entertainment that Hulu has to offer.
Hopping onto the Hulu Train with a Prepaid US Card: A Thrifty Globetrotter's Guide
Let's now venture down a pragmatic avenue, namely the 'Prepaid US Card' route.
The first station is "Prepaid US Card Central". You'll need to navigate your way to VISA or MasterCard, where you can choose your ticket – the prepaid card.
Next, we arrive at "Funds Station". Here, you need to fuel up your prepaid card. This can be done directly or by transferring money from your bank account, given that your card of choice supports such cheery transfers.
Having acquired your ticket and made sure it's packed with funds, it's time to board the Hulu Express at the "Hulu Account Terminal". Here, you'll need to check-in, select a subscription plan, and jot down the necessary particulars.
We're almost there. The last stop before you start your entertainment journey is "Registration Point". Here, you pay for the service using your shiny new prepaid card. Now, if this doesn't work for some reason, perhaps the ticket machine is being obstinate, don't fret – just try the gift card method instead.
With the ticketing process complete, you're all set to start watching. It's time to sit back, kick off your shoes, and let the Hulu Express whisk you away into a world of non-stop entertainment, right outside of the USA.
PayPal Your Way to Hulu Paradise: A Modern Maverick's Approach
Welcome to the "PayPal method", a trail favored by modern mavericks, digital nomads, and online shopping aficionados.
Begin this journey by constructing your own digital finance fortress – a PayPal account. You'll need to swing by PayPal and ensure you're setting up a US account. Now, it's imperative that you get this right, because Hulu can be a bit snobbish when it comes to foreign PayPal accounts. If setting up a US PayPal account starts to feel like trying to lasso a greased pig, simply revert to our old reliable – the gift card method.
Having established your PayPal account, you're now ready for the next leg of the journey. Head on over to Hulu, strut your stuff, and log in using your credentials.
Next up, it's time to pay the piper... or rather, the subscription. If your account is a newborn, fresh out of the internet womb, you can also kick off a free trial.
With these steps accomplished, it's time to kick back and start watching. Dive headlong into the ocean of your favorite Hulu shows, and swim around in the thrill of it all.
StatesCard: Your Magic Carpet Ride to Hulu Bingeing
Behold, the wonders of StatesCard, the 21st-century magic carpet ride to the land of Hulu bingeing!
Your journey starts at the port of StatesCard, where you'll need to carve out your digital presence by clicking the "Sign Up" button. Having successfully become a part of the club, add a little bit of that digital money to make it official.
Your next stop is Hulu. Log in with your carefully crafted credentials or take a bold step and create a whole new identity for yourself (strictly on Hulu, of course).
Once settled in, it's time to pay the virtual ferryman. Use the card information you secured from your new friend, StatesCard, to pay for or renew your Hulu subscription. If you do this right, you'll have successfully purchased your ticket to endless entertainment.
Having accomplished these milestones, you're now fully armed and ready to embark on the Hulu adventure. Sit back, relax, and let the world of your favorite Hulu shows envelop you.
submitted by harry-jg to topvpn [link] [comments]
So here's the trick: You need a VPN. Hulu, being the sly fox that it is, looks at your IP address to see if you're within the good ol' USA. But a VPN, with its digital cloak of invisibility, lets you masquerade as a Yank, regardless of your actual whereabouts. Meaning, you could be sipping sake in Tokyo or riding a camel in Egypt, but Hulu will think you're eating apple pie in the heartland.
Through diligent labour, my team and I scrutinized over 60 VPNs designed to finagle Hulu's geoblocks. And standing tall among the crowd, we have ExpressVPN. It's the Brad Pitt of VPNs, offering multiple US servers and lightning-fast speeds to let you access Hulu without as much as a hiccup. And just to sweeten the deal, you can take ExpressVPN for a spin without any risk, as it's protected by a 30-day money-back guarantee. If it doesn't tickle your fancy, getting your money back is as easy as pie.
Getting Cozy with Hulu Globally: A VPN's Role in Your Streaming Escapades
Ever tried to access Hulu outside the United States? It's like attempting to communicate with a mime—nearly impossible and often met with an unamused silence. Hulu, with its treasure trove of binge-worthy content, unfortunately, dons an armor of licensing restrictions that keep it securely tethered to the Land of the Free. Its digital gatekeepers, aptly called geoblocks, detect the non-US IP address and give you a digital cold shoulder. And if you thought that's the end of your woes, there's more! Setting up a new Hulu account would need a US credit card, a hurdle that's hard to leap.
In these dire times, one can count on the prowess of a Virtual Private Network (VPN). Picture a VPN as a savvy undercover agent, masterfully disguising your IP address as if you're lounging on a couch somewhere in New York, even when you're actually sunbathing in Barcelona. A VPN juggles your internet traffic, directing it through a server of your choice, thereby replacing your original IP address with a shiny new one from the chosen location. This high-tech sleight of hand can bamboozle streaming platforms into thinking you're within their allowed borders.
In layman's terms, pick a VPN server located in the US and voila! You get a US IP address. When Hulu gazes upon this borrowed IP, it believes you're a proud dweller of Uncle Sam's land, lifting the barriers. Suddenly, signing up, renewing subscriptions, and accessing your beloved Hulu shows become a cakewalk, no matter where on the globe you're perched.
ExpressVPN
Imagine you're trying to sprint a marathon on stilts - pretty inconvenient and unstable, right? Now swap those stilts with a pair of world-class running shoes, and suddenly you're Usain Bolt. That's precisely the upgrade ExpressVPN offers when you're trying to subscribe to Hulu or streaming in Ultra High Definition.
In a test of virtual athleticism, ExpressVPN's New York, Dallas, and Chicago servers gave a stunning performance. Clocking in at an average speed of 91 Mbps, they fell only a hair short of my prime 100 Mbps connection. It’s like running a race and placing a close second to a cheetah. Given that you need merely a humble 25 Mbps to stream in UHD, this VPN crosses the finish line with excessive energy to spare. Even when I indulged in a hair-raising episode of American Horror Story, buffering was a foreign concept.
In addition to its impressive speed, ExpressVPN offers a roster of 24 US locations, akin to a digital buffet of options for connecting to Hulu on your world travels. Even from the other side of the world (9,153 km away, to be exact), my New Jersey server stood like a steadfast guard, ensuring my connection remained unbroken.
What's more, ExpressVPN’s MediaStreamer acts as a secret decoder ring, enabling you to watch Hulu on devices that usually don't shake hands with VPNs. PlayStation, Xbox, or even that one smart TV you got at a Black Friday sale years ago; all can be brought into the fold. The setup process was quicker than making a microwave popcorn bag. Simply jot down a code from your ExpressVPN account dashboard, feed it into your smart TV’s network settings, and voila! I found myself catching up on Hulu shows on my antiquated Samsung Tizen TV with no hiccups.
While ExpressVPN might ask for a few more pennies than its fellow VPN services, the sheer performance justifies the price tag. It's like paying extra for a VIP concert ticket - you're assured of the best experience. And with a 30-day money-back guarantee, you can test drive it on Hulu, no strings attached. And if you decide it's not your cup of tea, their customer support is there to process your refund without quibble. They’re rather nice about it, really.
CyberGhostVPN
Picture CyberGhost as the highly competent butler of your digital mansion, ensuring a seamless Hulu streaming experience. This ace up the VPN sleeve not only provides fast and reliable connections but serves them with a silver platter specifically designed for Hulu. Imagine a world where buffering is as extinct as dial-up internet, all thanks to CyberGhost’s Hulu-optimized servers. I frolicked in this paradise while renewing my subscription using their Miami server.
Using CyberGhost's Hulu-optimized servers is like walking through an automatic door; it's a breeze. The interface is as user-friendly as a Labrador puppy. A simple peck on your keyboard typing "Hulu" in the search bar under the "For streaming" tab, and you're given a list of servers that are specially designed to work magic on Hulu. Better still, some of these servers have undergone a digital personal training regimen to optimize their performance for Fire Stick and Android TV specifically.
While CyberGhost may not be as predictably consistent as ExpressVPN, akin to a weather forecast, its connections still hold strong. Think of it like a relay race with the US, UK, and Australia servers, each passing the baton without letting the speed dip below an 82 Mbps average. I was treated to uninterrupted feasts of "Santa Evita" and "House of the Dragon" in Ultra High Definition, without so much as a single awkward pause or hiccup.
Private Internet Access
Imagine a scenario where you have a myriad of IP addresses at your disposal for streaming Hulu like a monarch, that's exactly what PIA offers. This VPN is a playground teeming with server options in the US, reducing your chances of being in the middle of an overcrowded digital mosh pit. Trust me, you'd prefer your own breathing room when renewing your Hulu subscription, which I did with as much ease as butter sliding off a hot knife. With such an extensive server network, you have a buffet of alternative routes should Hulu unexpectedly pull the roadblock on one.
What sets PIA apart from the crowd is its penchant for personalization. Think of it as the bespoke suit of VPN apps. This little wonder comes with an array of widgets that are as flexible as a yoga instructor, ready to twist and bend to suit your interface aesthetic. Additionally, it hands you the reins of encryption, allowing you to choose between the Fort Knox of security - the AES 256-bit encryption, or the slightly more fleet-footed but still quite secure AES 128-bit encryption.
Now, this plethora of customization options could be a bit like being lost in a tech version of Narnia for the newly initiated. It's a lot to take in. But give it a little time, a few exploratory clicks and swipes, and you'll find the app's interface becomes as familiar and easy to navigate as your favorite neighborhood bistro.
Five Secret Passages to Hulu Land Without a US Credit Card in 2023
Juggling through the nuances of signing up for Hulu, especially without a US credit card, can make your head spin faster than a hamster on a wheel. So let's pop the lid off Pandora's box and unveil the five undercover methods to bring Hulu to your fingertips.
Before you sprint into action, let's cross off a couple of quick checks:
Make sure to equip yourself with a VPN. Any VPN on my coveted shortlist should do the trick, but I would tilt my hat towards ExpressVPN. It zips along at breakneck speeds and boasts a generous offering of US servers to select from
Now you're in the right gear, but you need to be in the right place. As Hulu only pays house visits to those who reside in the US (virtually, of course), that's where you should connect.
With these quick checks done and dusted, you're ready to proceed. Brace yourself as we unveil the five secret scrolls to gain access to the tantalizing world of Hulu.
MyGiftCardSupply: Your Key to Unlock Hulu's Magic Box
A Hulu gift card from MyGiftCardSupply is your golden ticket to the land of unlimited entertainment.
Step 1: Buying a ticket. Venture into the online bazaar of MyGiftCardSupply, and procure a Hulu gift card ranging from $25 to $100. The amount depends on how deep you want to dive into the ocean of Hulu content. Be sure to sign up if you haven't already - think of it as a friendly handshake.
Step 2: Sniff out the code. Once the gift card purchase is complete, you'll receive an email with the precious code. Open it, and gently copy the code.
Step 3: Claim your prize. Stride confidently to Hulu's redemption page, type in your hard-earned code, and create your account. Do remember to use a US address and zip code when signing up – they are quite particular about that.
Step 4: Let the show begin. Slide into Hulu's log-in page and gently type in your shiny new credentials.
Step 5: The Grand Finale. Now it's time to sit back, relax, and bask in the glory of endless entertainment on Hulu. Step into your personal streaming universe and enjoy the show!
Hitching a Ride on iTunes US: Your Unconventional Route to Hulu
Now, let's stroll down a different route, this time, a path known as 'iTunes US.'
Step 1: Set up camp in the Land of Apple. Visit Apple's website and pitch your digital tent by creating a new account. Consider this your personal American outpost in the universe of iTunes.
Step 2: Stock up on provisions. Replenish your digital coffers either directly through iTunes or via a US iTunes gift card, which is akin to your secret stash of apple cider in the cellar.
Step 3: Summon Hulu. Type "Hulu" into the search bar and download the app. Much like calling a pet, it'll come running and install itself onto your device.
Step 4: Enter the realm of Hulu. Use your iTunes funds to either get a shiny new plan or renew an existing subscription, and then log into your Hulu account. This is you officially checking into the grand Hulu Hotel.
Step 5: Savour the spectacle. With all these steps complete, you're now in a position to pay for and enjoy your Hulu account. It's time to kick back and indulge in the smorgasbord of entertainment that Hulu has to offer.
Hopping onto the Hulu Train with a Prepaid US Card: A Thrifty Globetrotter's Guide
Let's now venture down a pragmatic avenue, namely the 'Prepaid US Card' route.
The first station is "Prepaid US Card Central". You'll need to navigate your way to VISA or MasterCard, where you can choose your ticket – the prepaid card.
Next, we arrive at "Funds Station". Here, you need to fuel up your prepaid card. This can be done directly or by transferring money from your bank account, given that your card of choice supports such cheery transfers.
Having acquired your ticket and made sure it's packed with funds, it's time to board the Hulu Express at the "Hulu Account Terminal". Here, you'll need to check-in, select a subscription plan, and jot down the necessary particulars.
We're almost there. The last stop before you start your entertainment journey is "Registration Point". Here, you pay for the service using your shiny new prepaid card. Now, if this doesn't work for some reason, perhaps the ticket machine is being obstinate, don't fret – just try the gift card method instead.
With the ticketing process complete, you're all set to start watching. It's time to sit back, kick off your shoes, and let the Hulu Express whisk you away into a world of non-stop entertainment, right outside of the USA.
PayPal Your Way to Hulu Paradise: A Modern Maverick's Approach
Welcome to the "PayPal method", a trail favored by modern mavericks, digital nomads, and online shopping aficionados.
Begin this journey by constructing your own digital finance fortress – a PayPal account. You'll need to swing by PayPal and ensure you're setting up a US account. Now, it's imperative that you get this right, because Hulu can be a bit snobbish when it comes to foreign PayPal accounts. If setting up a US PayPal account starts to feel like trying to lasso a greased pig, simply revert to our old reliable – the gift card method.
Having established your PayPal account, you're now ready for the next leg of the journey. Head on over to Hulu, strut your stuff, and log in using your credentials.
Next up, it's time to pay the piper... or rather, the subscription. If your account is a newborn, fresh out of the internet womb, you can also kick off a free trial.
With these steps accomplished, it's time to kick back and start watching. Dive headlong into the ocean of your favorite Hulu shows, and swim around in the thrill of it all.
StatesCard: Your Magic Carpet Ride to Hulu Bingeing
Behold, the wonders of StatesCard, the 21st-century magic carpet ride to the land of Hulu bingeing!
Your journey starts at the port of StatesCard, where you'll need to carve out your digital presence by clicking the "Sign Up" button. Having successfully become a part of the club, add a little bit of that digital money to make it official.
Your next stop is Hulu. Log in with your carefully crafted credentials or take a bold step and create a whole new identity for yourself (strictly on Hulu, of course).
Once settled in, it's time to pay the virtual ferryman. Use the card information you secured from your new friend, StatesCard, to pay for or renew your Hulu subscription. If you do this right, you'll have successfully purchased your ticket to endless entertainment.
Having accomplished these milestones, you're now fully armed and ready to embark on the Hulu adventure. Sit back, relax, and let the world of your favorite Hulu shows envelop you.
2023.06.01 01:46 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.06.01 01:38 NaughtMyself 27 [M4F] Nevada / Anywhere/ Online - Gazing into the Abyss
To start... what am I doing here? I'm starting to wonder if I genuinely want a relationship or if I just like the idea of being in one. Though maybe I just haven't met the right people. I'm not in the best situation to be trying to meet someone in person at the moment. Between work and other things taking up the free time in my schedule. That being said I have a fair bit of down time during the day currently that I can make use of pursuing something online at least.
Why reddit of all places? Frankly just cause it's not a dating app. They encourage the worst of both men and women in dating. On top of that they help further promote a terrible dating culture. 10/10 not a fan, it's demeaning to both sexes in my opinion and only makes genuinely connecting with people that much harder.
So! A bit about me, I'm a home body. I prefer to spend my free time at home. How exciting, I know! Grab your bingo card cause I'm a pretty standard guy. Plays video games, watches anime, reads manga, big on movies, my music taste is ALL over the place, I ride a motorcycle, I have a few guns and go shooting every once in a while when I can spare the ammo for it. Usually make a day of it with friends/family. Probably (definitely) spend too much time on YouTube. I have an ongoing fascination with psychology/philosophy, always have and probably always will. Generally just a big nerd.
That being the case, my work keeps me active. I'm working at the airport currently fueling planes right now (this heat is so much fun), but I've done construction, restaurant work, planned on going into the Army but got out during basic (long story), and worked at a gym for a bit so I've always been in at least passable shape. I'm 6ft 170-ish lbs for an idea
What I'm looking for? Connection. To put it simply. Emotional and physical (get your mind out of the gutter) A kind of connection and bond you can't have with friends, even if you do kiss the homes good night Between snuggling/cuddling on the couch just lazing away watching whatever, talking about anything and everything, trudging through life's hurdles, learning about and being a part of each other's worlds.
That being said, and as much as I dislike it about myself I do find physical attraction to be really important, equally to personality. The lack of one can't be made up for by the other for me
With that out in the open I'm an open book! Except for a few pages I've ripped out... and a few others I've smeared in ink... and one or two that I've burned... but aside from those anything goes!
So I'd like to find out... does the abyss gaze back?
submitted by NaughtMyself to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]
Why reddit of all places? Frankly just cause it's not a dating app. They encourage the worst of both men and women in dating. On top of that they help further promote a terrible dating culture. 10/10 not a fan, it's demeaning to both sexes in my opinion and only makes genuinely connecting with people that much harder.
So! A bit about me, I'm a home body. I prefer to spend my free time at home. How exciting, I know! Grab your bingo card cause I'm a pretty standard guy. Plays video games, watches anime, reads manga, big on movies, my music taste is ALL over the place, I ride a motorcycle, I have a few guns and go shooting every once in a while when I can spare the ammo for it. Usually make a day of it with friends/family. Probably (definitely) spend too much time on YouTube. I have an ongoing fascination with psychology/philosophy, always have and probably always will. Generally just a big nerd.
That being the case, my work keeps me active. I'm working at the airport currently fueling planes right now (this heat is so much fun), but I've done construction, restaurant work, planned on going into the Army but got out during basic (long story), and worked at a gym for a bit so I've always been in at least passable shape. I'm 6ft 170-ish lbs for an idea
What I'm looking for? Connection. To put it simply. Emotional and physical (get your mind out of the gutter) A kind of connection and bond you can't have with friends, even if you do kiss the homes good night Between snuggling/cuddling on the couch just lazing away watching whatever, talking about anything and everything, trudging through life's hurdles, learning about and being a part of each other's worlds.
That being said, and as much as I dislike it about myself I do find physical attraction to be really important, equally to personality. The lack of one can't be made up for by the other for me
With that out in the open I'm an open book! Except for a few pages I've ripped out... and a few others I've smeared in ink... and one or two that I've burned... but aside from those anything goes!
So I'd like to find out... does the abyss gaze back?
2023.06.01 01:34 DucklerDuck flair me down
The XM-42 is our most popular Flamethrower. It is lite, easy to use, and loads of fun! You likely never thought you needed a Flamethrower until you shot one. The intimidating hiss of the pilot running, the mechanical whirr of the fuel pump, and the pure joy of the flame shooting 33' feet, will forever change your life.
submitted by DucklerDuck to AtomHeartMotherCult [link] [comments]
2023.06.01 01:18 Sniperwolf216 Can't get ahead and need help with what to do first
Been lurking for a while but never really post here as I am only a good example of what not to do.
34m - married with 3 little kids (1/6/10). Living in Oklahoma, USA. We have essentially $0 in our bank account and no savings account (that is quite literally) and I really need to fix this. We have made lots of mistakes financially in our life but cleaned up most of it. I am the sole financial provider, due to day care cost it feels more beneficial for wife to not work. She's never held a job that pays > $15/hr and that doesn't really cover daycare + fuel and insurance.
I gross ~ $85k per year when you include my commission. Base pay of $65k + On-call $13k for the majority of it. Credit is not good, around 590 currently.
Monthly Expenditures:
Rent : $1500
Car loans : $825 / $575
Phone : $228
Utilities : $500
CaHome Insurance : $310
Health Insurance : $825
Dental work for daughter : $145 (June 2023 is last payment)
Personal Loans : $147 ($71 of that will go away June 15,2023 as that's the last payment)
Other Debts:
Credit Cards : $1,900 ($120 minimum) at roughly 20-25%
Personal Loans : $775 ($71 remaining) and $1,366 ($835 remaining)
I feel like I am missing something but cannot think of it or find it in my budget planner. I will add things if I do find something.
I have about $15k in 401k that I would prefer to not touch as it is my only source of retirement funds, unless you all find that most beneficial. I put very little toward 401k right now (~$20/paycheck) as I'm trying to pay off my bills but I feel like I'm not getting anywhere.
I know it isn't as bad as some people but I feel like I'm constantly trying to scrounge just to put food on the table.
submitted by Sniperwolf216 to personalfinance [link] [comments]
34m - married with 3 little kids (1/6/10). Living in Oklahoma, USA. We have essentially $0 in our bank account and no savings account (that is quite literally) and I really need to fix this. We have made lots of mistakes financially in our life but cleaned up most of it. I am the sole financial provider, due to day care cost it feels more beneficial for wife to not work. She's never held a job that pays > $15/hr and that doesn't really cover daycare + fuel and insurance.
I gross ~ $85k per year when you include my commission. Base pay of $65k + On-call $13k for the majority of it. Credit is not good, around 590 currently.
Monthly Expenditures:
Rent : $1500
Car loans : $825 / $575
Phone : $228
Utilities : $500
CaHome Insurance : $310
Health Insurance : $825
Dental work for daughter : $145 (June 2023 is last payment)
Personal Loans : $147 ($71 of that will go away June 15,2023 as that's the last payment)
Other Debts:
Credit Cards : $1,900 ($120 minimum) at roughly 20-25%
Personal Loans : $775 ($71 remaining) and $1,366 ($835 remaining)
I feel like I am missing something but cannot think of it or find it in my budget planner. I will add things if I do find something.
I have about $15k in 401k that I would prefer to not touch as it is my only source of retirement funds, unless you all find that most beneficial. I put very little toward 401k right now (~$20/paycheck) as I'm trying to pay off my bills but I feel like I'm not getting anywhere.
I know it isn't as bad as some people but I feel like I'm constantly trying to scrounge just to put food on the table.
2023.06.01 01:12 VantageXL 6x Everyday Rewards points on Woolworths Supermarket, Big W, BWS, Dan Murphy's, Fuel, Simply Groceries and Essentials gift cards @ Woolworths Gift Cards (ends 14 Jun 2023)
 | submitted by VantageXL to QantasFrequentFlyer [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 01:03 wildwood9843 Debit cards accepted?
Going to visit Norway in September. Just wondering if my Canadian debit card (with a chip) is an acceptable payment method for most stores/fuel?
submitted by wildwood9843 to Norway [link] [comments]
2023.06.01 01:02 VantageXL 6x Everyday Rewards points on Woolworths Supermarket, Big W, BWS, Dan Murphy's, Fuel, Simply Groceries and Essentials gift cards @ Woolworths Gift Cards (ends 14 Jun 2023)
| | submitted by VantageXL to EverydayRewards [link] [comments] |
2023.06.01 00:40 Gloomius The Long War's Newcomers; Dracula's Trial: Persona Non Grata (Chapter 5)
Hello again!
This one took longer to get out, not because it was a harder chapter for me to write or anything like that, but because I forgot to post and was busy writing the main story anyways. Challenge me on that, I dare you.
Nothing else really to say. Join the discord.
Previous/Main/Next/Discord!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fries dragged himself towards the LZs, hoping that someone had somehow waited for him. He could see the area where the dropship had been landed and the troops gathered by the amount of insectoid bodies littering the area. Among them, he could see a shattered CEVA helmet on the ground, the operator or suit nowhere nearby.
He approached slowly, keeping his rifle up and trained on the bodies if they got back up. He went straight for the helmet, picking it up and inspecting it once he reached it. There was a hole in the faceplate and no exit wound, though there was blood, skull fragmentation, and brain matter on both the back of the helmet and faceplate.
“Shit…” Fries muttered, shaking his head as he set the helmet down. He was about to check the area more when his audio sensors picked up hissing in the air.
Fries dove for cover behind the body of one of the insectoids, being sure to cover the breach in his suit. While the mechanical pressurization of the main suit hadn’t been compromised, a blast to the flesh could still prove fatal to the ODST.
He waited for an impact that never came, and instead watched as two Kxa’vara transports flew overhead.
“Well, that ain’t somethin’ we were briefed on…” He mused to himself, standing up and starting to run in the direction he had watched the craft go in. He slung his rifle onto his back and turned up the mechanical assistance in the suit, allowing him to run at an incredible speed for an incredibly long period of time.
He followed in the direction of the craft for what felt like an hour, the suit feeding him nearly pure oxygen to continue at the pace he was at, until he suddenly stopped upon seeing where the two craft were hovering. In the side of a rock face a kilometer or two out that extended around 150 feet into there air, he could make out clay and rock “houses” either carved out of the rock or built up with the clay. He used the suit’s zoom function to scope the place out. Outside of the houses though, Fries couldn’t see anybody or anything. The two ships hovered above it, but there was nothing moving around.
Finally thinking he had enough information, Fries attached a suppressor to his rifle and started moving forward. He had barely gotten four steps forward when he saw more of the insectoid creatures. They were out at the “houses” trying to climb up and reach the dropship. He could make out the tracings of kinetic-plasma fire. He started running towards the “town” before he noticed six or so of the bugs coming towards him.
Without hesitation this time, he raised his rifle and cut them apart, their hard carapaces completely ineffective against the armor-penetrating 4.5x49mm rounds from the ODST’s weapon. He continued forward, reloading his rifle and checking his underbarrel launcher for a round. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, but it involved something with a Kxa’vara ship.
He had run about 100 meters before the next batch of bugs came at him, this time much closer than beforehand. The first one immediately lunged at him and caught his right arm’s utility spike to the skull, going limp as soon as he removed the spike from the skull. The next two creatures caught .388 SP pistol rounds to their heads as they approached, Fries opting to leave his rifle for later engagements. The last one also jumped at him, but was caught by the ODST mid air, slammed onto the ground, and had its head stomped in by a boot.
Fries exhaled sharply while looking at his handiwork before quickly running off in the same direction again, this time at a much faster pace than before. It only took him a few minutes to be within 200 meters of the two craft, which had seemingly not noticed him, despite the ever-growing horde of bugs behind him.
It looked as if there was a closed entrance to the “town”, mainly as there was a large gate surrounded by twenty-foot rock faces. He quickly looked behind him to see where the horde was before he gritted his teeth and jumped, firing his jumpjets as he leapt up. He extended his spike and jammed it into the wall, settling his feet into cracks and divots before pushing off again and firing the jumpjets again. He repeated this process a few times before making it to the top and climbing up to look at the situation.
The two transports were hovering about forty meters away, above the residence area and dumping fire into the bugs below them. He could see right away that Kinetic-Plasma was much less useful against the bugs than his bullets, but they also had infinitely more bullets to fire than he did.
With some semblance of a plan starting to come together in his head, he pulled a disruptor grenade off of his kit and armed it, having the suit start to calculate where he’d have to throw it to hit the first ship. As soon as it was locked in, the suit took complete control over his arm, waiting for Fries’ signal.
He let the suit do its thing and watched as the disruptor grenade flew through the air towards the craft. He regained control of his arm and brought his rifle up, bringing his right arm to the trigger of the underbarrel launcher. As soon as he watched the grenade flash away the enemy’s shields, he fired a 40mm grenade at the gravitational stabilizer he could see. The side of the craft was engulfed in smoke as the HEDP round exploded on contact with the ship’s hull.
Almost immediately, the ship listed to the side, unable to maintain attitude control from the loss of the stabilizer. Fries immediately switched targets and began thinking of what to do for the other transport. His rangefinder gave the range as 43 meters, and Fries’ mind immediately went to a “solution”.
He had another 71 meters per second of fuel left, around eight seconds of hover time in this gravity, or just around enough to get him into the craft.
Taking a deep breath, Fries took a runup before jumping off the ledge he was on and fired the jumpjets, accelerating himself towards the transport. He knew that the energy shields would stop bullets, but they wouldn’t stop him. He extended his utility spike and cranked the arm back, preparing to jam it into the ship’s hull. As soon as he hit the side, he stabbed his arm in, the spike piercing all the way through until his fist hit the craft. He quickly pulled his handgun out and aimed towards the opened door to his right. Surprisingly, nobody came to look at him, as they were too surprised to watch their comrades’ craft go down.
Without warning, the ship tilted over and flew over to support the downed aircraft as insectoid creatures swarmed towards it. Fries sank in closer to the craft as they moved, trying to make sure he was able to stay onboard. It quickly leveled out over the wreck, the gunners at the doors opening up on the approaching horde. The ODST spared no time and crawled along the hull towards the door, the distance seeming an incredibly long 6 feet away. Using his spike and the “hand”holds on the craft, he made it to a point where he could leave his left arm spiked in and still lean into the cabin.
There were two Vakasi on mounted guns firing out of the door opposite him. In the cockpit, a Volaxin and Jokall sat at the sticks, the latter’s scaled, bat-like wings stopping him from seeing further in. He had just drawn his handgun to shoot at the two gunners when he heard one of the pilots yell out, his shields immediately flaring up as a few rounds from the Volaxin’s KP handgun impacted him.
Recognizing the immediate threat, Fries put a bullet into the skull of the pilot. He took note of the bullet tearing its way through his skull and out the glass cockpit as he leaned in further, using the remaining fuel in his jumpjets to give him enough force to remove his left arm from the hull and push into the cabin.
Neither of the two Vakasi had enough time to turn around and raise their weapons before Fries had kicked the first one out, immediately turning on the other one and putting a bullet into his chest/neck carapace. His shields flared again as another round struck him. He quickly whipped around, ducking to the side and raising his pistol towards the cockpit.
The HUD quickly flashed a 46% warning as a few more KP rounds passed nearby the ODST, initiating the shield sensors.
He fired a few rounds at where he assumed the Jokall was, the bullets failing to penetrate the metal wall separating the cabin from the cockpit. Knowing that neither of them could currently shoot each other with the weapons they had out without coming through the door gap, he holstered his pistol and raised his rifle, aiming at the same spot on the metal wall as before. He fired six times into it, knowing he had successfully penetrated the wall when the ship suddenly listed forward. Quickly moving into the cockpit, he pulled the nearest body away from the controls and off their chair, immediately putting himself in control.
Unlike what he was hoping for, it wasn’t controlled by a joystick, but instead a floating sphere. It had holes in it like a bowling ball and glowing lines snaking across it, the ODST able to see no reason for them other than aesthetic purposes.
He grabbed onto the sphere and pulled back, failing to do anything other than partially pull the sphere out of the “gravity track” it was in. He attempted to pull up by rotating the ball towards himself, immediately causing the craft to snap its nose up to almost the exact degree he had just rotated the sphere to at incredible speeds.
He let out a small yelp as he started to rapidly lose altitude, the engines seemingly powered off suddenly.
He rotated the ball again, trying to level the craft out, but wound up tilting too far to the side. The sudden shift caused him to lose grip on the ball and brush one of the lines on it. The craft immediately accelerated towards where the nose was pointing; just below the horizon. He grabbed hold of the ball again, now somewhat having an idea of what to do.
He was about to start angling the craft when the starboard side caught something and threw him out of the seat, twisting the craft out of position and sending it to the ground. Fries had already curled himself into a ball as much as the ECS would allow, the suit’s thick armor keeping him from getting as tight as he wanted to be.
He uncurled and stood before the craft had even come to a stop, trying to find a good standing position to fight from while standing on the side of the glass canopy of the transport. Clearly, the craft had stayed on its side during the crash. He brought his rifle to his shoulder and started moving towards the door.
Almost immediately he could hear the skittering of legs on metal, and two of the smaller insectoids dropped into the cabin. Wasting no time, he brought the rifle up and shot them, moving out of the cockpit and pulling himself out of the cabin and on top of the craft.
He looked around and froze up, immediately seeing that the craft was surrounded by insectoids. In front of him, two large bugs looked at him. They towered above everything else, being an easy 12 feet in height.
While he was trying to think of his next course of action, he realized that the bugs were not advancing on him. They were all holding around 30 meters out from the wreck.
“Well? Come on then!” He yelled out, putting a fresh magazine into his rifle.
Still, the creatures didn’t move. He kept his eyes on the big ones, waiting to see if they would make the first move.
“Computer, recharge shielding. Prepare to use shields to counter direct hand-to-hand impacts.” He whispered in his helmet, using the time they were paused to ready himself for one final engagement.
He almost opened fire as he saw the two big creatures shift. However, they moved off to the side instead of towards him, though none of the smaller ones did anything. He was trying to gauge what they were doing when he noticed a creature, one he would hesitate to call “humanoid” but definitely bipedal, tentatively approaching past the big creatures.
It was still some thirty meters away when the ODST zeroed his rifle onto it. He restrained himself from pulling the trigger, but instead used his suit’s imaging systems to get a better look at the creature.
Surprisingly, it was very familiar in a vague part of his mind. Though he was sure he hadn’t seen one of these before, something told him that it was very familiar.
“Computer… bring up helmetcam footage of March 27th, 23:47…” He muttered, trying to pay attention to both the creatures around him and the HUD footage.
He watched through the footage, still keeping his rifle on the slowly approaching creature. He had nearly given up on finding anything and shutting off the video when he noticed something that again nearly made him shoot the creature.
He watched as he entered Zeta Zero, the ship’s main meltdown runaway room, where four CEVA Marines were guarding the door, two inside and two outside. A scientist and a medical officer were also inside, also wearing EVA suits. In the middle of the room, strapped down to a medical bed with metal clamps, was the empath.
The empath was a bit different from the creature now only 20 meters away, but they were most certainly the same creature.
submitted by Gloomius to HFY [link] [comments]
This one took longer to get out, not because it was a harder chapter for me to write or anything like that, but because I forgot to post and was busy writing the main story anyways. Challenge me on that, I dare you.
Nothing else really to say. Join the discord.
Previous/Main/Next/Discord!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fries dragged himself towards the LZs, hoping that someone had somehow waited for him. He could see the area where the dropship had been landed and the troops gathered by the amount of insectoid bodies littering the area. Among them, he could see a shattered CEVA helmet on the ground, the operator or suit nowhere nearby.
He approached slowly, keeping his rifle up and trained on the bodies if they got back up. He went straight for the helmet, picking it up and inspecting it once he reached it. There was a hole in the faceplate and no exit wound, though there was blood, skull fragmentation, and brain matter on both the back of the helmet and faceplate.
“Shit…” Fries muttered, shaking his head as he set the helmet down. He was about to check the area more when his audio sensors picked up hissing in the air.
Fries dove for cover behind the body of one of the insectoids, being sure to cover the breach in his suit. While the mechanical pressurization of the main suit hadn’t been compromised, a blast to the flesh could still prove fatal to the ODST.
He waited for an impact that never came, and instead watched as two Kxa’vara transports flew overhead.
“Well, that ain’t somethin’ we were briefed on…” He mused to himself, standing up and starting to run in the direction he had watched the craft go in. He slung his rifle onto his back and turned up the mechanical assistance in the suit, allowing him to run at an incredible speed for an incredibly long period of time.
He followed in the direction of the craft for what felt like an hour, the suit feeding him nearly pure oxygen to continue at the pace he was at, until he suddenly stopped upon seeing where the two craft were hovering. In the side of a rock face a kilometer or two out that extended around 150 feet into there air, he could make out clay and rock “houses” either carved out of the rock or built up with the clay. He used the suit’s zoom function to scope the place out. Outside of the houses though, Fries couldn’t see anybody or anything. The two ships hovered above it, but there was nothing moving around.
Finally thinking he had enough information, Fries attached a suppressor to his rifle and started moving forward. He had barely gotten four steps forward when he saw more of the insectoid creatures. They were out at the “houses” trying to climb up and reach the dropship. He could make out the tracings of kinetic-plasma fire. He started running towards the “town” before he noticed six or so of the bugs coming towards him.
Without hesitation this time, he raised his rifle and cut them apart, their hard carapaces completely ineffective against the armor-penetrating 4.5x49mm rounds from the ODST’s weapon. He continued forward, reloading his rifle and checking his underbarrel launcher for a round. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, but it involved something with a Kxa’vara ship.
He had run about 100 meters before the next batch of bugs came at him, this time much closer than beforehand. The first one immediately lunged at him and caught his right arm’s utility spike to the skull, going limp as soon as he removed the spike from the skull. The next two creatures caught .388 SP pistol rounds to their heads as they approached, Fries opting to leave his rifle for later engagements. The last one also jumped at him, but was caught by the ODST mid air, slammed onto the ground, and had its head stomped in by a boot.
Fries exhaled sharply while looking at his handiwork before quickly running off in the same direction again, this time at a much faster pace than before. It only took him a few minutes to be within 200 meters of the two craft, which had seemingly not noticed him, despite the ever-growing horde of bugs behind him.
It looked as if there was a closed entrance to the “town”, mainly as there was a large gate surrounded by twenty-foot rock faces. He quickly looked behind him to see where the horde was before he gritted his teeth and jumped, firing his jumpjets as he leapt up. He extended his spike and jammed it into the wall, settling his feet into cracks and divots before pushing off again and firing the jumpjets again. He repeated this process a few times before making it to the top and climbing up to look at the situation.
The two transports were hovering about forty meters away, above the residence area and dumping fire into the bugs below them. He could see right away that Kinetic-Plasma was much less useful against the bugs than his bullets, but they also had infinitely more bullets to fire than he did.
With some semblance of a plan starting to come together in his head, he pulled a disruptor grenade off of his kit and armed it, having the suit start to calculate where he’d have to throw it to hit the first ship. As soon as it was locked in, the suit took complete control over his arm, waiting for Fries’ signal.
He let the suit do its thing and watched as the disruptor grenade flew through the air towards the craft. He regained control of his arm and brought his rifle up, bringing his right arm to the trigger of the underbarrel launcher. As soon as he watched the grenade flash away the enemy’s shields, he fired a 40mm grenade at the gravitational stabilizer he could see. The side of the craft was engulfed in smoke as the HEDP round exploded on contact with the ship’s hull.
Almost immediately, the ship listed to the side, unable to maintain attitude control from the loss of the stabilizer. Fries immediately switched targets and began thinking of what to do for the other transport. His rangefinder gave the range as 43 meters, and Fries’ mind immediately went to a “solution”.
He had another 71 meters per second of fuel left, around eight seconds of hover time in this gravity, or just around enough to get him into the craft.
Taking a deep breath, Fries took a runup before jumping off the ledge he was on and fired the jumpjets, accelerating himself towards the transport. He knew that the energy shields would stop bullets, but they wouldn’t stop him. He extended his utility spike and cranked the arm back, preparing to jam it into the ship’s hull. As soon as he hit the side, he stabbed his arm in, the spike piercing all the way through until his fist hit the craft. He quickly pulled his handgun out and aimed towards the opened door to his right. Surprisingly, nobody came to look at him, as they were too surprised to watch their comrades’ craft go down.
Without warning, the ship tilted over and flew over to support the downed aircraft as insectoid creatures swarmed towards it. Fries sank in closer to the craft as they moved, trying to make sure he was able to stay onboard. It quickly leveled out over the wreck, the gunners at the doors opening up on the approaching horde. The ODST spared no time and crawled along the hull towards the door, the distance seeming an incredibly long 6 feet away. Using his spike and the “hand”holds on the craft, he made it to a point where he could leave his left arm spiked in and still lean into the cabin.
There were two Vakasi on mounted guns firing out of the door opposite him. In the cockpit, a Volaxin and Jokall sat at the sticks, the latter’s scaled, bat-like wings stopping him from seeing further in. He had just drawn his handgun to shoot at the two gunners when he heard one of the pilots yell out, his shields immediately flaring up as a few rounds from the Volaxin’s KP handgun impacted him.
Recognizing the immediate threat, Fries put a bullet into the skull of the pilot. He took note of the bullet tearing its way through his skull and out the glass cockpit as he leaned in further, using the remaining fuel in his jumpjets to give him enough force to remove his left arm from the hull and push into the cabin.
Neither of the two Vakasi had enough time to turn around and raise their weapons before Fries had kicked the first one out, immediately turning on the other one and putting a bullet into his chest/neck carapace. His shields flared again as another round struck him. He quickly whipped around, ducking to the side and raising his pistol towards the cockpit.
The HUD quickly flashed a 46% warning as a few more KP rounds passed nearby the ODST, initiating the shield sensors.
He fired a few rounds at where he assumed the Jokall was, the bullets failing to penetrate the metal wall separating the cabin from the cockpit. Knowing that neither of them could currently shoot each other with the weapons they had out without coming through the door gap, he holstered his pistol and raised his rifle, aiming at the same spot on the metal wall as before. He fired six times into it, knowing he had successfully penetrated the wall when the ship suddenly listed forward. Quickly moving into the cockpit, he pulled the nearest body away from the controls and off their chair, immediately putting himself in control.
Unlike what he was hoping for, it wasn’t controlled by a joystick, but instead a floating sphere. It had holes in it like a bowling ball and glowing lines snaking across it, the ODST able to see no reason for them other than aesthetic purposes.
He grabbed onto the sphere and pulled back, failing to do anything other than partially pull the sphere out of the “gravity track” it was in. He attempted to pull up by rotating the ball towards himself, immediately causing the craft to snap its nose up to almost the exact degree he had just rotated the sphere to at incredible speeds.
He let out a small yelp as he started to rapidly lose altitude, the engines seemingly powered off suddenly.
He rotated the ball again, trying to level the craft out, but wound up tilting too far to the side. The sudden shift caused him to lose grip on the ball and brush one of the lines on it. The craft immediately accelerated towards where the nose was pointing; just below the horizon. He grabbed hold of the ball again, now somewhat having an idea of what to do.
He was about to start angling the craft when the starboard side caught something and threw him out of the seat, twisting the craft out of position and sending it to the ground. Fries had already curled himself into a ball as much as the ECS would allow, the suit’s thick armor keeping him from getting as tight as he wanted to be.
He uncurled and stood before the craft had even come to a stop, trying to find a good standing position to fight from while standing on the side of the glass canopy of the transport. Clearly, the craft had stayed on its side during the crash. He brought his rifle to his shoulder and started moving towards the door.
Almost immediately he could hear the skittering of legs on metal, and two of the smaller insectoids dropped into the cabin. Wasting no time, he brought the rifle up and shot them, moving out of the cockpit and pulling himself out of the cabin and on top of the craft.
He looked around and froze up, immediately seeing that the craft was surrounded by insectoids. In front of him, two large bugs looked at him. They towered above everything else, being an easy 12 feet in height.
While he was trying to think of his next course of action, he realized that the bugs were not advancing on him. They were all holding around 30 meters out from the wreck.
“Well? Come on then!” He yelled out, putting a fresh magazine into his rifle.
Still, the creatures didn’t move. He kept his eyes on the big ones, waiting to see if they would make the first move.
“Computer, recharge shielding. Prepare to use shields to counter direct hand-to-hand impacts.” He whispered in his helmet, using the time they were paused to ready himself for one final engagement.
He almost opened fire as he saw the two big creatures shift. However, they moved off to the side instead of towards him, though none of the smaller ones did anything. He was trying to gauge what they were doing when he noticed a creature, one he would hesitate to call “humanoid” but definitely bipedal, tentatively approaching past the big creatures.
It was still some thirty meters away when the ODST zeroed his rifle onto it. He restrained himself from pulling the trigger, but instead used his suit’s imaging systems to get a better look at the creature.
Surprisingly, it was very familiar in a vague part of his mind. Though he was sure he hadn’t seen one of these before, something told him that it was very familiar.
“Computer… bring up helmetcam footage of March 27th, 23:47…” He muttered, trying to pay attention to both the creatures around him and the HUD footage.
He watched through the footage, still keeping his rifle on the slowly approaching creature. He had nearly given up on finding anything and shutting off the video when he noticed something that again nearly made him shoot the creature.
He watched as he entered Zeta Zero, the ship’s main meltdown runaway room, where four CEVA Marines were guarding the door, two inside and two outside. A scientist and a medical officer were also inside, also wearing EVA suits. In the middle of the room, strapped down to a medical bed with metal clamps, was the empath.
The empath was a bit different from the creature now only 20 meters away, but they were most certainly the same creature.
2023.06.01 00:24 Reptani Pray the Conquistadores, Ch. 13: Broken Puppet
First Previous Next
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
— Langston Hughes
Catalogue Description:
Self-Monitoring Behavioural Management Report: Casimir Szymański, Scazim Institute of Science and Technology - English Translation
Date:
15 Summer-2 3429 (Standard Parimthian Calendar)
November 23rd, 2162 (Gregorian Calendar)
Held by:
The UK National Archives, Kew
Legal status:
Public Record(s)
My father worshipped a fabricated, pagan prophet.
The Senghavi of the Parimthian Empire are principally joined under the ditheistic religion called Siedi, which I do not subscribe to. Of course, the Senghavi's literature, art, and faith flooded the whole of Earth upon their arrival a century ago. From this ocean of civilised culture, my degenerate species drew a sample, claimed it as our own, and polluted it with a distorted, appropriated, dumbed-down doctrine.
The central figure in this corrupt sample of Siedi was a man whom my father called Jesus Christ. He was said to have offered himself as a sacrifice that could be made to a single God. It was a final sacrifice, one beyond lambs or cattle or people. One that would atone for humanity's sins, so that we could have the free choice between the eternal presence of God and the eternal absence of "Him."
My father dressed himself in black, with a standing collar whose white fabric was exposed at the centre. That much, I could recall. He preached to hopeful humans in what was called a church, though I did not know what he was preaching. At the very least, my childhood is fuzzy in that regard.
The pain that throbbed through my skull, after the blonde savage had slammed my head against the ridges of the airlock, faded into the background. I could not focus; perhaps, I thought, one of their improvised explosives had gone off by accident. There was blue Senghavi blood staining my dress shirt. The rush of air escaping into vacuum pierced my ears.
Perhaps it was thirst of water, which binds most sapient beings—the Sons of Liberty had reached an agreement with the Colonial Defence Force to allow spacecraft delivering food, water, and medical aid, only to unleash the anti-collision lasers of this cursed spaceliner upon those very ships.
Or perhaps it was the explosion, as I initially thought, an inadvertent complication which had wrought injury and death over my countrymen, and which had forced the terrorist savages to attempt to patch up the many hull breaches left by debris.
Or perhaps it was simply the stress of betraying, in my desperate efforts to save everyone from this senseless violence, the greatest secret of the Senghavi Terrans: our antimatter research. Word of it had likely been forwarded already, hundreds of light-years away, to that pink-hued marble which was Parimth itself.
Or perhaps it was all three; thirst, explosion, and stress. In any case, my mind shut it all out, and something lost from my childhood flashed before me:
We're standing on the cracked street of the Vennec Human Reservation. In the distance, the Senghavi's white, glassy spires reach above the clouds, their accents of luminescence dim in the broad daylight.
I hold a ball in my palm. It's wrapped in white leather held together with red stitching. I toss it to Dad.
Instead of his clerical uniform, he wears the normal "T-shirt" and "cargo shorts." Along with the clerical getup, they are just two of the many sorts of clothing which the Senghavi have invented for humanity. I toss the ball to Dad, and he swings a primitive wooden bat.
The ball goes soaring, further than he meant to. He jogs down the road to retrieve it, then gives me the wooden bat. The breeze ruffles his hair just as he ruffles mine with his hand.
"Now, you try," he says. "It's just practice, that's all."
For some reason, he lifts one leg in the air, then pitches the ball to me. I swing. The impact of the ball shakes through the wood, and it goes careening off to the left.
"I did it!" I yell. "But it went out of bounds."
"Heyyyy, that's not bad," Dad says with a reassuring voice. "Good job, just try to go a little more right next time."
Mom comes out onto the front porch, the breeze ruffling her dress as she waves to Dad. "Dinner's ready, and Mom's pie is... almost ready."
I stare blankly at her until I realise that she is talking about her Mom, Grandma, who is the best at making pumpkin pie.
"The pie!" I shout, running and jumping to the front door. "I totally forgot about that!"
I am ready to speed my way through dinner just so I can get to dessert, but Dad stops me before my first bite.
Of course, I think. We need to say grace. Me, Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa all hold hands, thanking God for our food, and then dig in. But Mom and Dad just talk about work, and I am too focused on finishing my food quickly to pitch in.
Finally—Grandma's pie!
When you bite into the soft, smooth filling, you can instantly tell it's been made with fresh pumpkins, not the boring canned ones. The taste of cinnamon and spice is balanced out perfectly with the coolness of the whipped cream.
The flavour spreads through my tongue and nostrils, filling my entire brain with a feeling of amazing-ness. If I wrote the Simple-Speak Dictionary for Senghavi Terrans, I'd put Grandma's pie next to the translation of "perfection."
I should save a slice, I think, for the Senghavi kid.
Even though it's only been a week since I met him through the playground fence, we already told each other where we live, and I want to get to know him more. He doesn't live on the Vennec Human Reservation, but his house is just a bike-ride away in Fellye Neighborhood.
I wonder if anyone's ever given pumpkin pie to an alien before. Even though humans only invented it fifty years ago, it makes me feel proud of my species!
When Mom tucks me into bed, kissing my forehead, I tell her what I'm going to do.
"Oh, you wild thing," she coos. "You're so much like your father. And you have his eyes, you know? Just stay safe."
"Don't worry, I'll do my best."
>! "Good night. I love you." !<
>! "I love you, too, Mom," I say. I hug her tightly from my bed, and a warm, fuzzy feeling blossoms within me. I can hardly fall asleep in my excitement. !<
Luckily, Fellye Neighborhood doesn't take apartheid that seriously, and I don't think anybody cares about an eight year-old human riding his bicycle around the gates.
Next evening, I do just that, peddling out of the Reservation's entrance into the violet dusk. When I get to Mensim's address, I ring the hi-tech front doorbell, and a really tall Senghavi shows up.
"Oh, dear," she says in Parimthian. "A barbarian hatchling—by what name do you go?"
"I'm Casimir," I say nervously. I don't pay that much attention in school, but I know just enough Parimthian to talk to the Senghavi woman. "Are you Mrs. Munghazi? Is Mensim fe Munghazi here? I got two slices of pie. You can have one, too!"
She looks at me suspiciously, antennae twitching. "That would be Teacher Munghazi to you; I know not why you natives invented these odd 'Mister' and 'Missis' honorifics. Hold on—Ghanvati! A native hatchling stands at our doorstep!"
Ghanvati must be Mensim's dad. I wonder where his other moms are; only one has shown up to the door. Ghanvati shows up with two of them—they are both shorter and daintier than Teacher Munghazi, their raptorial forelimbs folded shyly against their bodies. In front of the group of three is Mensim, and I involuntarily gasped with excitement.
"Mensim!"
"This is your new companion?" Ghanvati asks Mensim.
Mensim's papery forewings flicker with affirmation. "I met him at school."
"What, pray tell, is the point of apartheid if it does not actually keep natives away from Senghavi?" whines one of Ghanvati's wives.
Ghanvati's antennae droop as if to say "I don't know," while Mensim lifts my arms, inspecting me like I am a test animal in a mad scientist's laboratory.
"How do you guys not get cut all the time?" he asks, tracing his tarsal hairs over my bare skin. "You're so fleshy!"
"I do get cut all the time," I giggled. "We just use band-aids. Oh, do you wanna eat a pumpkin pie?"
It turned out that pumpkin pie is bad for alien stomachs. Mensim had to go to the bathroom for a long time, and three of his moms got mad at me.
When I got back, Dad and Mom were arguing. I snuck close to the back porch, making sure they couldn't hear me.
"Yes, they leave some people alone," Dad said. "Obviously, they can't spy on every single human who believes in human religions. But Katarzyna, they still need people to make an example out of, and I don't want to be that person!"
"Casimir is a responsible kid," Mom retorts. "I told him he can't tell anyone what you do, and he listens to me."
"He's eight years old. You can't just let him wander around aliens with a secret that could have me killed! Or have you killed!"
Mom cups Dad's cheek and looks him in the eye. She's a lot shorter than him. "Look, love. You're a great father, and I think it's amazing that you spend time with him. But you're the only person he talks to. You know just as well as I do that he needs to talk to other kids! It's not healthy; even Teacher Perevvoxath agreed. And now he finally has a friend."
Dad sighs, running his hands through his black hair. My hair. "You really think aliens are a substitute for human interaction?"
>! "I think every human needs a person they can talk to, and Casimir found one. If you really care about him, stop preaching for a while! Your church isn't gonna die without you. It'll be okay." !<
The next day, I visit Mensim's house after school again. And the next day after that, and the next after that. His dad Ghanvati is formally named Engineer Munghazi. I am to call his moms Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Accountant Munghazi, Priestess Munghazi, Doctor Munghazi, and Maidservant Munghazi.
A couple weeks later, Mensim and I are lounging together on his couch, watching a Parimthian war movie. The main characters are fighting against the evil forces of the Imperium of Orion. Under his head capsule, Mensim is munching something called Synth-Fruit, which is imported from a faraway planet called Mryi. I eat Pop-Tarts, which I'm pretty sure are toxic to him.
"Come on, just give me one," Mensim exclaims, reaching over to steal the sweet snacks from me. "It can't be that bad!"
I lift the Pop-Tarts away from him, laughing. "Stoppit, you're attacking me! Pay attention to the movie, or I'm gonna shoot you!"
"But I just want one..."
"It's gonna poison you, and you're gonna get your weird alien throw-up all over me!"
Priestess Munghazi, the oldest of his moms, bursts into the living room, her jewellery clinking over her clerical cape.
"Your sister conveyed to me quite the disturbing piece of news, Mensim," Priestess Munghazi cries. "The father of Casimir is a priest of a most barbarous and evil perversion of the Siedi faith. Ghanvati and I spoke, and we agreed that you are not to consort with this primitive, pagan savage any longer."
I drop my crumbly Pop-Tart on the couch, confused at the sudden order.
"But Priestess Munghazi, I'm not dangerous or evil. I'm just a kid."
"Nonsense! You are dangerous; your father is a barbarian worshipper of this evil, primate paganism that is called Christianity, and a most woeful effect is begot that even self-respecting Senghavi have 'gone native,' as they say. Mensim, if you continue to consort with this native spawn, I will be impelled to inform the Siedi Court, and they may by chance see to it that he is executed!"
"W-Wait!" Mensim says, holding up the remote to pause our movie. He gets off of me, suddenly losing interest in my Pop-Tart, his vestigial forewings rising with concern. "Please, Mother. I promise he won't be any trouble."
My blood runs cold. Dad, executed? Just because what he believes in isn't "civilised" enough? Actually, I thought that Mom told him to stop preaching for a while.
Mensim scrambles to *his father's sleeping quarters, and I trail frantically after him.*
"Father," Mensim says. "Is Casimir's father's job so ghastly that he should be executed by the Siedi Court?"
"We can't just let the natives spread the same barbarous religions that they used to kill each other," Ghanvati replies, his secondary arms clasped together. "It's a threat to safe, moral society. Priestess Munghazi told me his father spreads evil and paganism. I have no reason not to trust the oldest of your mothers."
"But Casimir's my best friend! If you tell the Siedi Court about his father, I'll... I'll run away! I'll hate you!"
Distressed vibrations emanate through the floor beneath my feet; Mensim's antennae and papery forewings and hindwings go limp. Something like lilies and the earthy scent of rain fills the air.
"My dearest Mensim," Ghanvati says softly, dipping his head capsule with compassion. "I will hold off, just this once. It would be apt of you not to cause me to reconsider."
"T-thank you, Engineer Munghazi," I say, wiping my own tears. "My dad's not a bad person, I promise."
After confronting his dad, Mensim and I keep on watching movies and playing digital games. He always wins when we wrestle, but I still haven't given up (even though Priestess Munghazi always tells us to stop roughhousing).
I even bring my Lego pieces to his house. He doesn't know what Legos are, but later, in his sleeping quarters, we build together. He makes a cool-looking spaceship that he calls a "negative energy generator."
"Hey, you took all the cool black and grey pieces," I complain. "Now I can't finish my army base!"
"This is cooler than your army base," Mensim says proudly. "Father used to work in one. It uses the superposition of squeezed vacuum states to produce a field of negative energy density."
"I have no idea what that means, but that sounds really smart."
"No kidding! It's how people make wormholes and fly all the way to other stars."
"Well, my army guys could beat your negative energy-thingy. They have machine guns."
"My guys could just fly a [~million billion trillion kilometres] away, and yours can't do anything about it!"
"Then your guys are wimps. But my guys aren't. Because they're the Army!"
>! We also explore the pine forest in his backyard. Within just two more weeks, we have uncovered all sorts of interesting things, like a piece of a real human skull. One time, we found a human foot sculpted and smoothed out of stone—who would make such a thing?—and a dead metal device with the icon of a bitten-out-of apple printed on it. !<
There were also other human body parts made out of ancient stone, too: the cracked half of a man's face buried a foot deep, a muscly arm sticking out of the soil. Even a private part, which I snickered at, though Mensim seemed unfazed.
There is something else we start to do. My parents have given me "the talk," and Mensim told me that his parents gave him the Senghavi version of it. And so even as we talk and play in the woods, we experiment—because we are curious, and why should we not be?
A fragment of a memory in the forest; Mensim's raptorial forelimbs are set on my shoulders as his compound eyes look into my primate eyes, and he says, "You cannot tell anyone about this. Anyone. Absolutely no one."
I don't know how, but Priestess Munghazi learned of what we were doing, and now she expresses anger and disgust alike, her wings and antennae wild and rigid. Ghanvati is the same. Mensim and I... We're actually making them reconsider their decision not to tell the Siedi Court about my dad.
A fragment of a memory... I feel like I am in space, stranded aboard a spaceliner that has been hijacked by terrorists, its atmosphere venting amid a backdrop of violence... But I am not, I am in the forest that Mensim and I talked and played in; I am in Mensim's home, terrified as I am yelled at by Ghanvati, whose compassion no longer shines through, accompanied by Priestess Munghazi.
"By the names of the Gods, it's those false, pagan corruptions which humans have named as their religions, that are spouted by your father," Priestess Munghazi spits. I am teary-eyed and snot-nosed from guilt and embarrassment. "How horrid is the link between the state of barbarism and a most revolting and shameful propensity for bizarre and perverted behaviour!"
Then I am in my own family's living room, and the mom I love so dearly yells at me, too, but my father is quieter and only seems disappointed. This must be the first time in my life that I have felt true shame, I think; the kind that leaves you with an emptiness inside. Like the whole point of existing just vanished inside of me.
The worst part is that I cannot even lean on Mom's shoulder, because she is distressed—because she knows what will happen—
"This is all on you, Casimir!" she screeches, tears in her eyes. "All on you!"
I remember telling Priestess Munghazi that 'I'm not dangerous or evil; I'm just a kid,' but now I can't be sure anymore. I can tell I am different in the eyes of my family. They are disgusted by me.
It is my fault, after all, that Priestess Munghazi tells the Siedi Court of my father's evil, barbaric Christian teachings.
The Parimthian soldiers bring my father to the gallows. Their snow-white exoskeletons gleam under a burning sun. They have dressed him in his clerical uniform, and the camera is close enough that I can see his cross necklace.
I have been grounded in my room; still, I have a television to see the live broadcast.
Hanging works for primates and mantids alike. It happens in the Forum of Movvaeti, the venue for public events in our area, where my father is a lesser criminal compared to the native leaders and Senghavi malcontents who have dissented from Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth.
He is joined with seven other convicts, three humans and four Senghavi, and their crimes are read to the crowd—blasphemy, paganism, monogamy, witchcraft, seditious libel, insulting the Parimthian Crown, treason against the Parimthian Crown, and refusal to quarter Parimthian soldiers.
Why? None of this feels right. Why should my father be killed because of what he says and believes? Why can't these people be judged with fairness, rather than at the whim of some distant space emperor?
Not only have I been grounded, but I grow cold without my mother's touch. I want to hold someone's hand while watching Dad lose his life, but nobody is there. Mom brings me food, but she doesn't even look at me. Why can't she look at me? Why can't she speak to me? I just want things to be the way they used to be, when Dad would help me practise hitting a ball with a bat on the street.
I watch him turn down a caped, bejewelled priestess of the Siedi faith, who thought she could make my dad accept their Gods before his death. Before a modest crowd of humans and Senghavi alike, all eight of the convicts have their arms and legs bound with rope.
I am begging myself to turn the TV off, but I can't bring myself to. The Senghavi executioner uses some kind of hi-tech display to remove the supports from beneath the convicts' feet. My stomach flips over inside of me, a nausea of shame filling my body.
I can't deny it any longer. This is my fault—this is why my family avoids me—this is why they are disgusted by me—and Dad falls and his head jerks when the noose goes taut.
As he hangs there, I cannot tell for how long he remains alive. My insides are cold. After the broadcast ends, after night falls and I sit in the moonlight spilling faintly through my windows, that is when it all comes out. I sob alone. I scream for Mom to help me and be there for me, but she does not come. Her harsh voice resonates through my memory; this is all on me. I am a disgrace to everyone I love, and that is why they have left me here. Why they avoid me as if I am a disease.
The only thing I want is to see Dad again, but he is gone forever. I curl up on my room floor. What is this? What is this loneliness? This stinging hatred I feel against myself?
No one, human or mantid, will be there for me. I cry until my throat cannot ache any more harshly, until my eyes cannot sting any more painfully, and then I go cold inside, my body shivering in the moonlight. I retreat into my happy memories with Dad until it is too painful to bear.
I wish so dearly I could end it all, to take my own life and join Dad in the heaven that he believed in. There is a belt in my closet that I can use on myself in the way the Siedi Court killed Dad.
But beneath the sickly well of shame, the nausea and crushing humiliation at the stupid antics of Mensim and I, with which Mom's brief gaze pierces me—beneath the weight of knowing that I will never fill the torturous vacuum Dad left, knowing that I am a foul and disgusting son to the mother I so desperately need, that I see no end to the infinite river of anxiety and guilt pouring through the hole left in my heart—beneath my isolation and my longing for human touch—something breaks inside of me.
An emptiness of purpose. There is no point in going on, and I feel nothing, not even the desire to stop living. There is one exception: A hatred of myself, and of the humans I loved as family.
One day, Mom appears in my doorway, and she just stands there. Before, I would've welcomed being offered interaction with her beyond just receiving food, but now I am numb, my eyes all out of tears to cry.
"Pack your things," she says, her voice flat. She still doesn't look at me; the eyes she once said I inherited from Dad, she now shuns. "You're going to a residential school."
Indigenous Residential Schools; that is what Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth calls them, I think. They're for human kids who have trouble letting go of their "savage" roots; kids that the normal schools aren't enough to civilise. Schools that show you how to act Senghavi, to think Senghavi, to... be Senghavi.
There was a human kid in normal school whose sister went there, but they said that something had happened to her there; something in that residential school had changed her before she finally returned.
But I feel no fear as I pack my clothes into my bags. Every time I look in my bedroom mirror, a violent feeling rushes to my chest, only to dissipate into the hatred-tinged numbness I have grown so used to.
Finally, the time comes to depart. In the early morning, I am already aboard the autonomous public transport. It pulls out of the cracked street I once played with Dad in, passing by the entrance of Fellye Neighborhood, driving off into the fiery, violet Terran dawn. I see my faded reflection in the window, and my chest jumps with revulsion.
So I look down, fidgeting with my touchpad—then the numbness abruptly leaves, and my tears fall once again.
Forgive me for all the redaction, Doctor Morgthax. While I will not disclose what I wrote, you are correct, as always, about the act of writing. There is some semblance of psychological relief in typing one's sullen inner thoughts onto a touchpad. As if one can be heard without being heard.
By the time I drifted back to reality, my mouth and lips dry from dehydration, the hijackers had patched up the holes punched through the hull by the accidental explosion. Plenty of Senghavi passengers were spilling cerulean blood from beneath their exoskeletal coverings; though they were all alive, they needed medical attention.
Two hundred-something Senghavi civilians aboard this luxury spaceliner, and none had yet died. That stroke of luck offered me a glimmer of hope.
Pavok, the child, was emitting vibrations through the floor in his despair, the smell of rain and lilies becoming evident to me. It is starkly fascinating, the evolutionary dissimilarity between how native Terrans and Senghavi Terrans cry.
Those ships were delivering medical aid and critical provisions to the passengers, Commander Lokprel barked, the neutrino signals that encoded his gruff voice coming out from the intercom. Why did you laser them?
"Stop playing games," Jake snapped wearily into his radio. I recalled that his full name was Jacob Weaver, as Commander Lokprel had mentioned. A drop of blood streaked down his face. "We know what you're up to."
Paranoia will get you nowhere, Jacob. If we don't work with each other, you won't survive. We have detected an explosion aboard the spaceliner. Is anyone dead?
"Not yet," Jake growled. "But Fenni Svim will be if your forces keep approaching!"
Fenni Svim—the Senghavi from the Vellir Veneti Physics Lab, against whose skull Jake had pressed his pistol to halt the CDF's initial approach, hours ago—stiffened in her seat. I had never known the nuclear researcher very well before this barbarous event, but I prayed to the Gods of Siedi (whom I do not really believe in) that she would be okay.
Many of the passengers were still being kept by the windows to deter snipers. They included Pavok, behind whom Khadija stood guard.
"Sorry for attacking you," Jake suddenly said to me, his voice worn-out. "It's like Khadija said. The bugs know that humans are strong when they're united. It's why they try to play us against ourselves, to ally with just some of us, to try to make us hate each other; to hate ourselves. It's how they tore the United States apart. Everything they do... It's to make us ashamed of our species, our own culture, to lose hope in the future. If we were united, Casimir... they'd be terrified of us. And make no mistake—we're uniting again."
"E-even if what you say about mankind is true," I croaked, "Our species would not have settled anywhere but Earth. Our culture and history would still have been negligible and primitive, the richness and complexity of the Senghavi, still greater by many orders of magnitude."
"Casimir, did you go to one of the Indigenous Residential Schools?" Khadija asked.
"Y-yes," I managed, dusting off my formal wear and cleaning my glasses. "I was sent to one as a child. They are for those of us savage natives which conventional education could not sufficiently civilise."
Khadija's eyes softened with compassion, and she gestured to my wrist. "I asked because of that code on your wrist. I've heard about some of the things that happen in those places. The cruelty; the abuse."
I glanced at the abstract identification code tattooed onto my skin, faded with time. I hadn't thought about it in ages; it was but a remnant of my childhood, and I never paid it any attention.
"Residential schooling is necessary and proper," I tell her. "It is similar to human-mantid apartheid in its purpose; it keeps the public safe from savagery. "
"If we get out of this alive, I'm gonna take you with me to Russia," she said, wiping sweat from her brow. "Specifically, Moscow. It's where I lived after the fall of Türkiye. Man controls it, not the Senghavi."
I was already aware that a vast, untamed region named Zvorriu-Sai, located in Earth's northeastern quarter-sphere, is called Russia in simple-speak. A decade ago, Nieve fe Skellth had tried to civilise the hunter-gatherers who lived there, but his troops starved and froze in the snow.
It was with the multitude of planetary habitat fabricators that his army had been using that the native primates of Zvorriu-Sai constructed such cities as Moscow or Saint Petersburg.
"Russian civilization goes back over a millennium," Khadija explained. "I don't give a fuck about what the Senghavi have built on this planet; Russian architecture is my favourite, hands down. Anyway, it's the most stable and self-sufficient of the ten countries we've got left. Hard to invade, you know? It's seen better days, but the cities are nice, the economy is good. I think you'll find it's a hell of a lot less 'savage' than whatever the fuck the Parimthian Empire is doing."
To corroborate her claims, she showed me a photo from the gallery of her cracked, dusty touchpad. Before a busy canal, the waters tinted orange by a rising sun, a more relaxed version of her smiled into the camera alongside some human of the phenotype I had seen in the video of Tokyo. Looming over them was an intricate, palatial structure topped with colourful, onion-shaped domes.
"How... quaint," I replied, unsure of what to say, though it ignited dry laughter in Khadija.
"Looks like we got a communiqué from the UN," another hijacker announced, his mask still covering his face. I couldn't place his accent at all. He held up his own touchpad, displaying photos of the Colonial Governor herself—Perellanth fe Sumur—flanked by armed UN military personnel. They were clad in urban camouflage that was marred with blood. The black, plant-like extraterrestrial gazed defeatedly in the sterile lighting.
The UN had captured her! The Crown's decision to appoint a Vire as the leader of a Senghavi colony had been no small event. I was certain that after all the talk of Senghavi Terran independence, then followed by the Colonial Governor's capture, His Imperial Majesty regretted his progressivist decision.
"We... We did it!" Jake exclaimed, his voice disbelieving. "We took down Perellanth!"
You achieved nothing, Commander Lokprel retorted over the intercom. Not beyond the promotion of Benghoviu fe Prim to Acting Colonial Governor. If you kill Governor Sumur, Governor Benghoviu will become the permanent Colonial Governor as per the chain of command, and he will carry on the fine work of his predecessor.
Jake seemed to consider that situation a fair one, and he nodded to himself subtly. "Okay, sure. But if you do nothing, we'll still kill our first hostage."
What I can promise you is that Delegate Essintsya fe Baryn will submit an Act to the Forum of Delegates to recognize the sovereignty of the UN. It will be deliberated over for months, but it is your only realistic option. In return, we demand that you allow the passengers injured by one of your explosives to board CDF medical ships.
I recalled that the Forum of Delegates had voted Benghoviu fe Prim as Vice Colonial Governor just a year ago. And before even that, the Senghavi who lived on Vennec—my home continent on Earth—had popularly elected the ever-prudent Essintsya fe Baryn to the Forum. She was quite the economic liberal, as her sort was called.
Delegate Baryn's statements on the social contract between a people and their government, as well as her rejection that the Parimthian Crown ruled by divine right, had resonated deeply with me.
Jake's eyes hardened, and he turned his radio back on. "I said no games!"
There are no games here, Jacob! We only aim to preserve as much sapient life as possible. And you are out of options.
The hijacker who had shown Colonial Governor Sumur's prison photo gave Jake a withering look. "We're dragging this on, man. I don't want anyone to die."
"Don't talk to me about death, Ramiro. Not after what happened in the US."
The so-called United States of America... called Gholo Vieda in Parimthian. That region was Nieve fe Skellth's last successful conquest before he attempted to take on the vast, snowy expanses of Zvorriu-Sai. I wondered if, like Khadija's experience in Türkiye in the Niethvahi region, Jake had witnessed firsthand the cultural assimilation and political integration of Gholo Vieda into the rest of Parimthian Earth.
The conquest of Gholo Vieda and Niethvahi were the great accomplishments of Perellanth's predecessor, of course; but, in my opinion, the devotion of the (now captured) Perellanth to the causes of liberty, reason, equality, and sapientism far outshadowed anything that Nieve had done. I am certain, however, that the Parimthian Crown disagrees.
In any case, my faith in CDF Commander Lokprel loth Fonvie had not risen. Perhaps that was a good thing; otherwise, I might have regretted betraying the knowledge of antimatter research in order to elicit a more competent Parimthian intervention.
More security forces took up positions around the spaceliner, each ship split sharply into sunlight and shadow amid the black of space. The hijacker called Ramiro pointed to a series of smaller craft, which seemed to be pulling away from the luxury spaceliner. Escape pods!
"Hostages are falling through our fingers," Ramiro said. "We need to do something."
"Go to the rear," Khadija ordered. "Stop anyone else from sneaking out!"
Jake's radio crackled with the voice of someone in the cockpit. We've intercepted a neutrino transmission from the new guy, Benghoviu fe Prim. He's calling for some kind of emergency council at the highest levels in the Parimthian Empire.
I scoffed internally. The Crown would intervene for the sake of investigating all this talk of antimatter, whose alluring utility had hitherto been confined to theory and fiction. But it was doubtful that His Imperial Majesty would agree to an emergency council for the sake of his colonists' security and well-being. As (relatively) progressivist as he was in policy, he was still very much a punitive emperor, not a rewarding one.
"I told the commander to stop advancing—dammit!" Jake spat. "We're only letting medical craft get any closer. Fire at the corvettes!"
Affirmative, his radio crackled. Targets in sight.
The spaceliner's anti-collision lasers flashed against several faraway spacecraft. A succession of oxygen-fueled fires, each lasting for a [~split-second] against the vacuum of space, flared in the distance. Even so, the growing array of naval craft began to close in upon us again, surrounding the spaceliner in every dimension.
Switching again to the neutrino-connected channel, Jake gave a disgusted scowl. "Are you deaf, Commander? If your people keep getting closer, the deal is off!"
The more you fire, the closer we will get, Lokprel said. We are just making sure it is safe for the medical craft. As long as you refrain from harming them, we will not hurt you.
The hijacker in the cockpit radioed to Jake again, her voice sounding more alarmed.
We're picking up a massive object on our scanners. It's headed our way.
"How massive are we talking?" Jake asked.
It's... some kind of warship, I think. Over a hundred times our size.
"You're joking, right?"
"A Parimthian spacecraft carrier," murmured a soft, whimpery voice.
It was Fenni Svim again, her praying raptorial forelimbs tucked close in fear.
"The Imperial Parimthian Navy?" I asked. "They're really here?"
"Y-you shouldn't act surprised," Fenni said. "I know you were speaking to someone on the P-Parimthian side. You leaked our greatest secret, Casimir."
"R-right."
"What's she talking about, dude?" Khadija asked. Suspicion of betrayal lingered in her dark eyes. She had believed the lie that I was only calling a loved one when I contacted Mensim, >! who is at present an agent of Parimth!<; she had trusted me, and defended me against Jake's wrath.
I didn't answer. The very reason we needed antimatter was that the colonists' outerspace spanned but a meagre few millionths of the Parimthian Empire's total volume. I did not know what exactly a spacecraft carrier one hundred times the size of our spaceliner could do for the hostages, but it would be far more competent than the comparatively flimsy Colonial Defence Force.
Finally, after so many years of strategic modesty in the administration of the Crown's distant colony, of his Earth, as His Imperial Majesty suffered expense upon expense in countering the Imperium of Orion... Parimth had sent a warship of the Imperial Parimthian Navy, here in full force!
There was no need to inquire as to its distance; I could see it through my window. It was far enough that I could view the whole of its great form. Senghavi architecture, of course, is usually round, white, and glassy, traced with glowing accents; however, the imperial warship was boxy and shadowy black, visible only by the silhouette that it carved into the beaming sun.
Already, dozens of smaller craft—operated by some of the finest Senghavi pilots in the Milky Way—began spilling out from the spacecraft carrier, moving in the shadow of their gargantuan mothership. As even the hostage passengers became aware of its presence, the muted chatter and whimpering, which had been ambient across the aisles of the spaceliner, finally ceased.
Because of me, all of us—colonists and savages alike—were, for the first time in a decade, going to face a military intervention by Parimth itself.
submitted by Reptani to HFY [link] [comments]
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
— Langston Hughes
Catalogue Description:
Self-Monitoring Behavioural Management Report: Casimir Szymański, Scazim Institute of Science and Technology - English Translation
Date:
15 Summer-2 3429 (Standard Parimthian Calendar)
November 23rd, 2162 (Gregorian Calendar)
Held by:
The UK National Archives, Kew
Legal status:
Public Record(s)
My father worshipped a fabricated, pagan prophet.
The Senghavi of the Parimthian Empire are principally joined under the ditheistic religion called Siedi, which I do not subscribe to. Of course, the Senghavi's literature, art, and faith flooded the whole of Earth upon their arrival a century ago. From this ocean of civilised culture, my degenerate species drew a sample, claimed it as our own, and polluted it with a distorted, appropriated, dumbed-down doctrine.
The central figure in this corrupt sample of Siedi was a man whom my father called Jesus Christ. He was said to have offered himself as a sacrifice that could be made to a single God. It was a final sacrifice, one beyond lambs or cattle or people. One that would atone for humanity's sins, so that we could have the free choice between the eternal presence of God and the eternal absence of "Him."
My father dressed himself in black, with a standing collar whose white fabric was exposed at the centre. That much, I could recall. He preached to hopeful humans in what was called a church, though I did not know what he was preaching. At the very least, my childhood is fuzzy in that regard.
The pain that throbbed through my skull, after the blonde savage had slammed my head against the ridges of the airlock, faded into the background. I could not focus; perhaps, I thought, one of their improvised explosives had gone off by accident. There was blue Senghavi blood staining my dress shirt. The rush of air escaping into vacuum pierced my ears.
Perhaps it was thirst of water, which binds most sapient beings—the Sons of Liberty had reached an agreement with the Colonial Defence Force to allow spacecraft delivering food, water, and medical aid, only to unleash the anti-collision lasers of this cursed spaceliner upon those very ships.
Or perhaps it was the explosion, as I initially thought, an inadvertent complication which had wrought injury and death over my countrymen, and which had forced the terrorist savages to attempt to patch up the many hull breaches left by debris.
Or perhaps it was simply the stress of betraying, in my desperate efforts to save everyone from this senseless violence, the greatest secret of the Senghavi Terrans: our antimatter research. Word of it had likely been forwarded already, hundreds of light-years away, to that pink-hued marble which was Parimth itself.
Or perhaps it was all three; thirst, explosion, and stress. In any case, my mind shut it all out, and something lost from my childhood flashed before me:
We're standing on the cracked street of the Vennec Human Reservation. In the distance, the Senghavi's white, glassy spires reach above the clouds, their accents of luminescence dim in the broad daylight.
I hold a ball in my palm. It's wrapped in white leather held together with red stitching. I toss it to Dad.
Instead of his clerical uniform, he wears the normal "T-shirt" and "cargo shorts." Along with the clerical getup, they are just two of the many sorts of clothing which the Senghavi have invented for humanity. I toss the ball to Dad, and he swings a primitive wooden bat.
The ball goes soaring, further than he meant to. He jogs down the road to retrieve it, then gives me the wooden bat. The breeze ruffles his hair just as he ruffles mine with his hand.
"Now, you try," he says. "It's just practice, that's all."
For some reason, he lifts one leg in the air, then pitches the ball to me. I swing. The impact of the ball shakes through the wood, and it goes careening off to the left.
"I did it!" I yell. "But it went out of bounds."
"Heyyyy, that's not bad," Dad says with a reassuring voice. "Good job, just try to go a little more right next time."
Mom comes out onto the front porch, the breeze ruffling her dress as she waves to Dad. "Dinner's ready, and Mom's pie is... almost ready."
I stare blankly at her until I realise that she is talking about her Mom, Grandma, who is the best at making pumpkin pie.
"The pie!" I shout, running and jumping to the front door. "I totally forgot about that!"
I am ready to speed my way through dinner just so I can get to dessert, but Dad stops me before my first bite.
Of course, I think. We need to say grace. Me, Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa all hold hands, thanking God for our food, and then dig in. But Mom and Dad just talk about work, and I am too focused on finishing my food quickly to pitch in.
Finally—Grandma's pie!
When you bite into the soft, smooth filling, you can instantly tell it's been made with fresh pumpkins, not the boring canned ones. The taste of cinnamon and spice is balanced out perfectly with the coolness of the whipped cream.
The flavour spreads through my tongue and nostrils, filling my entire brain with a feeling of amazing-ness. If I wrote the Simple-Speak Dictionary for Senghavi Terrans, I'd put Grandma's pie next to the translation of "perfection."
I should save a slice, I think, for the Senghavi kid.
Even though it's only been a week since I met him through the playground fence, we already told each other where we live, and I want to get to know him more. He doesn't live on the Vennec Human Reservation, but his house is just a bike-ride away in Fellye Neighborhood.
I wonder if anyone's ever given pumpkin pie to an alien before. Even though humans only invented it fifty years ago, it makes me feel proud of my species!
When Mom tucks me into bed, kissing my forehead, I tell her what I'm going to do.
"Oh, you wild thing," she coos. "You're so much like your father. And you have his eyes, you know? Just stay safe."
"Don't worry, I'll do my best."
>! "Good night. I love you." !<
>! "I love you, too, Mom," I say. I hug her tightly from my bed, and a warm, fuzzy feeling blossoms within me. I can hardly fall asleep in my excitement. !<
Luckily, Fellye Neighborhood doesn't take apartheid that seriously, and I don't think anybody cares about an eight year-old human riding his bicycle around the gates.
Next evening, I do just that, peddling out of the Reservation's entrance into the violet dusk. When I get to Mensim's address, I ring the hi-tech front doorbell, and a really tall Senghavi shows up.
"Oh, dear," she says in Parimthian. "A barbarian hatchling—by what name do you go?"
"I'm Casimir," I say nervously. I don't pay that much attention in school, but I know just enough Parimthian to talk to the Senghavi woman. "Are you Mrs. Munghazi? Is Mensim fe Munghazi here? I got two slices of pie. You can have one, too!"
She looks at me suspiciously, antennae twitching. "That would be Teacher Munghazi to you; I know not why you natives invented these odd 'Mister' and 'Missis' honorifics. Hold on—Ghanvati! A native hatchling stands at our doorstep!"
Ghanvati must be Mensim's dad. I wonder where his other moms are; only one has shown up to the door. Ghanvati shows up with two of them—they are both shorter and daintier than Teacher Munghazi, their raptorial forelimbs folded shyly against their bodies. In front of the group of three is Mensim, and I involuntarily gasped with excitement.
"Mensim!"
"This is your new companion?" Ghanvati asks Mensim.
Mensim's papery forewings flicker with affirmation. "I met him at school."
"What, pray tell, is the point of apartheid if it does not actually keep natives away from Senghavi?" whines one of Ghanvati's wives.
Ghanvati's antennae droop as if to say "I don't know," while Mensim lifts my arms, inspecting me like I am a test animal in a mad scientist's laboratory.
"How do you guys not get cut all the time?" he asks, tracing his tarsal hairs over my bare skin. "You're so fleshy!"
"I do get cut all the time," I giggled. "We just use band-aids. Oh, do you wanna eat a pumpkin pie?"
It turned out that pumpkin pie is bad for alien stomachs. Mensim had to go to the bathroom for a long time, and three of his moms got mad at me.
When I got back, Dad and Mom were arguing. I snuck close to the back porch, making sure they couldn't hear me.
"Yes, they leave some people alone," Dad said. "Obviously, they can't spy on every single human who believes in human religions. But Katarzyna, they still need people to make an example out of, and I don't want to be that person!"
"Casimir is a responsible kid," Mom retorts. "I told him he can't tell anyone what you do, and he listens to me."
"He's eight years old. You can't just let him wander around aliens with a secret that could have me killed! Or have you killed!"
Mom cups Dad's cheek and looks him in the eye. She's a lot shorter than him. "Look, love. You're a great father, and I think it's amazing that you spend time with him. But you're the only person he talks to. You know just as well as I do that he needs to talk to other kids! It's not healthy; even Teacher Perevvoxath agreed. And now he finally has a friend."
Dad sighs, running his hands through his black hair. My hair. "You really think aliens are a substitute for human interaction?"
>! "I think every human needs a person they can talk to, and Casimir found one. If you really care about him, stop preaching for a while! Your church isn't gonna die without you. It'll be okay." !<
The next day, I visit Mensim's house after school again. And the next day after that, and the next after that. His dad Ghanvati is formally named Engineer Munghazi. I am to call his moms Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Accountant Munghazi, Priestess Munghazi, Doctor Munghazi, and Maidservant Munghazi.
A couple weeks later, Mensim and I are lounging together on his couch, watching a Parimthian war movie. The main characters are fighting against the evil forces of the Imperium of Orion. Under his head capsule, Mensim is munching something called Synth-Fruit, which is imported from a faraway planet called Mryi. I eat Pop-Tarts, which I'm pretty sure are toxic to him.
"Come on, just give me one," Mensim exclaims, reaching over to steal the sweet snacks from me. "It can't be that bad!"
I lift the Pop-Tarts away from him, laughing. "Stoppit, you're attacking me! Pay attention to the movie, or I'm gonna shoot you!"
"But I just want one..."
"It's gonna poison you, and you're gonna get your weird alien throw-up all over me!"
Priestess Munghazi, the oldest of his moms, bursts into the living room, her jewellery clinking over her clerical cape.
"Your sister conveyed to me quite the disturbing piece of news, Mensim," Priestess Munghazi cries. "The father of Casimir is a priest of a most barbarous and evil perversion of the Siedi faith. Ghanvati and I spoke, and we agreed that you are not to consort with this primitive, pagan savage any longer."
I drop my crumbly Pop-Tart on the couch, confused at the sudden order.
"But Priestess Munghazi, I'm not dangerous or evil. I'm just a kid."
"Nonsense! You are dangerous; your father is a barbarian worshipper of this evil, primate paganism that is called Christianity, and a most woeful effect is begot that even self-respecting Senghavi have 'gone native,' as they say. Mensim, if you continue to consort with this native spawn, I will be impelled to inform the Siedi Court, and they may by chance see to it that he is executed!"
"W-Wait!" Mensim says, holding up the remote to pause our movie. He gets off of me, suddenly losing interest in my Pop-Tart, his vestigial forewings rising with concern. "Please, Mother. I promise he won't be any trouble."
My blood runs cold. Dad, executed? Just because what he believes in isn't "civilised" enough? Actually, I thought that Mom told him to stop preaching for a while.
Mensim scrambles to *his father's sleeping quarters, and I trail frantically after him.*
"Father," Mensim says. "Is Casimir's father's job so ghastly that he should be executed by the Siedi Court?"
"We can't just let the natives spread the same barbarous religions that they used to kill each other," Ghanvati replies, his secondary arms clasped together. "It's a threat to safe, moral society. Priestess Munghazi told me his father spreads evil and paganism. I have no reason not to trust the oldest of your mothers."
"But Casimir's my best friend! If you tell the Siedi Court about his father, I'll... I'll run away! I'll hate you!"
Distressed vibrations emanate through the floor beneath my feet; Mensim's antennae and papery forewings and hindwings go limp. Something like lilies and the earthy scent of rain fills the air.
"My dearest Mensim," Ghanvati says softly, dipping his head capsule with compassion. "I will hold off, just this once. It would be apt of you not to cause me to reconsider."
"T-thank you, Engineer Munghazi," I say, wiping my own tears. "My dad's not a bad person, I promise."
After confronting his dad, Mensim and I keep on watching movies and playing digital games. He always wins when we wrestle, but I still haven't given up (even though Priestess Munghazi always tells us to stop roughhousing).
I even bring my Lego pieces to his house. He doesn't know what Legos are, but later, in his sleeping quarters, we build together. He makes a cool-looking spaceship that he calls a "negative energy generator."
"Hey, you took all the cool black and grey pieces," I complain. "Now I can't finish my army base!"
"This is cooler than your army base," Mensim says proudly. "Father used to work in one. It uses the superposition of squeezed vacuum states to produce a field of negative energy density."
"I have no idea what that means, but that sounds really smart."
"No kidding! It's how people make wormholes and fly all the way to other stars."
"Well, my army guys could beat your negative energy-thingy. They have machine guns."
"My guys could just fly a [~million billion trillion kilometres] away, and yours can't do anything about it!"
"Then your guys are wimps. But my guys aren't. Because they're the Army!"
>! We also explore the pine forest in his backyard. Within just two more weeks, we have uncovered all sorts of interesting things, like a piece of a real human skull. One time, we found a human foot sculpted and smoothed out of stone—who would make such a thing?—and a dead metal device with the icon of a bitten-out-of apple printed on it. !<
There were also other human body parts made out of ancient stone, too: the cracked half of a man's face buried a foot deep, a muscly arm sticking out of the soil. Even a private part, which I snickered at, though Mensim seemed unfazed.
There is something else we start to do. My parents have given me "the talk," and Mensim told me that his parents gave him the Senghavi version of it. And so even as we talk and play in the woods, we experiment—because we are curious, and why should we not be?
A fragment of a memory in the forest; Mensim's raptorial forelimbs are set on my shoulders as his compound eyes look into my primate eyes, and he says, "You cannot tell anyone about this. Anyone. Absolutely no one."
I don't know how, but Priestess Munghazi learned of what we were doing, and now she expresses anger and disgust alike, her wings and antennae wild and rigid. Ghanvati is the same. Mensim and I... We're actually making them reconsider their decision not to tell the Siedi Court about my dad.
A fragment of a memory... I feel like I am in space, stranded aboard a spaceliner that has been hijacked by terrorists, its atmosphere venting amid a backdrop of violence... But I am not, I am in the forest that Mensim and I talked and played in; I am in Mensim's home, terrified as I am yelled at by Ghanvati, whose compassion no longer shines through, accompanied by Priestess Munghazi.
"By the names of the Gods, it's those false, pagan corruptions which humans have named as their religions, that are spouted by your father," Priestess Munghazi spits. I am teary-eyed and snot-nosed from guilt and embarrassment. "How horrid is the link between the state of barbarism and a most revolting and shameful propensity for bizarre and perverted behaviour!"
Then I am in my own family's living room, and the mom I love so dearly yells at me, too, but my father is quieter and only seems disappointed. This must be the first time in my life that I have felt true shame, I think; the kind that leaves you with an emptiness inside. Like the whole point of existing just vanished inside of me.
The worst part is that I cannot even lean on Mom's shoulder, because she is distressed—because she knows what will happen—
"This is all on you, Casimir!" she screeches, tears in her eyes. "All on you!"
I remember telling Priestess Munghazi that 'I'm not dangerous or evil; I'm just a kid,' but now I can't be sure anymore. I can tell I am different in the eyes of my family. They are disgusted by me.
It is my fault, after all, that Priestess Munghazi tells the Siedi Court of my father's evil, barbaric Christian teachings.
The Parimthian soldiers bring my father to the gallows. Their snow-white exoskeletons gleam under a burning sun. They have dressed him in his clerical uniform, and the camera is close enough that I can see his cross necklace.
I have been grounded in my room; still, I have a television to see the live broadcast.
Hanging works for primates and mantids alike. It happens in the Forum of Movvaeti, the venue for public events in our area, where my father is a lesser criminal compared to the native leaders and Senghavi malcontents who have dissented from Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth.
He is joined with seven other convicts, three humans and four Senghavi, and their crimes are read to the crowd—blasphemy, paganism, monogamy, witchcraft, seditious libel, insulting the Parimthian Crown, treason against the Parimthian Crown, and refusal to quarter Parimthian soldiers.
Why? None of this feels right. Why should my father be killed because of what he says and believes? Why can't these people be judged with fairness, rather than at the whim of some distant space emperor?
Not only have I been grounded, but I grow cold without my mother's touch. I want to hold someone's hand while watching Dad lose his life, but nobody is there. Mom brings me food, but she doesn't even look at me. Why can't she look at me? Why can't she speak to me? I just want things to be the way they used to be, when Dad would help me practise hitting a ball with a bat on the street.
I watch him turn down a caped, bejewelled priestess of the Siedi faith, who thought she could make my dad accept their Gods before his death. Before a modest crowd of humans and Senghavi alike, all eight of the convicts have their arms and legs bound with rope.
I am begging myself to turn the TV off, but I can't bring myself to. The Senghavi executioner uses some kind of hi-tech display to remove the supports from beneath the convicts' feet. My stomach flips over inside of me, a nausea of shame filling my body.
I can't deny it any longer. This is my fault—this is why my family avoids me—this is why they are disgusted by me—and Dad falls and his head jerks when the noose goes taut.
As he hangs there, I cannot tell for how long he remains alive. My insides are cold. After the broadcast ends, after night falls and I sit in the moonlight spilling faintly through my windows, that is when it all comes out. I sob alone. I scream for Mom to help me and be there for me, but she does not come. Her harsh voice resonates through my memory; this is all on me. I am a disgrace to everyone I love, and that is why they have left me here. Why they avoid me as if I am a disease.
The only thing I want is to see Dad again, but he is gone forever. I curl up on my room floor. What is this? What is this loneliness? This stinging hatred I feel against myself?
No one, human or mantid, will be there for me. I cry until my throat cannot ache any more harshly, until my eyes cannot sting any more painfully, and then I go cold inside, my body shivering in the moonlight. I retreat into my happy memories with Dad until it is too painful to bear.
I wish so dearly I could end it all, to take my own life and join Dad in the heaven that he believed in. There is a belt in my closet that I can use on myself in the way the Siedi Court killed Dad.
But beneath the sickly well of shame, the nausea and crushing humiliation at the stupid antics of Mensim and I, with which Mom's brief gaze pierces me—beneath the weight of knowing that I will never fill the torturous vacuum Dad left, knowing that I am a foul and disgusting son to the mother I so desperately need, that I see no end to the infinite river of anxiety and guilt pouring through the hole left in my heart—beneath my isolation and my longing for human touch—something breaks inside of me.
An emptiness of purpose. There is no point in going on, and I feel nothing, not even the desire to stop living. There is one exception: A hatred of myself, and of the humans I loved as family.
One day, Mom appears in my doorway, and she just stands there. Before, I would've welcomed being offered interaction with her beyond just receiving food, but now I am numb, my eyes all out of tears to cry.
"Pack your things," she says, her voice flat. She still doesn't look at me; the eyes she once said I inherited from Dad, she now shuns. "You're going to a residential school."
Indigenous Residential Schools; that is what Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth calls them, I think. They're for human kids who have trouble letting go of their "savage" roots; kids that the normal schools aren't enough to civilise. Schools that show you how to act Senghavi, to think Senghavi, to... be Senghavi.
There was a human kid in normal school whose sister went there, but they said that something had happened to her there; something in that residential school had changed her before she finally returned.
But I feel no fear as I pack my clothes into my bags. Every time I look in my bedroom mirror, a violent feeling rushes to my chest, only to dissipate into the hatred-tinged numbness I have grown so used to.
Finally, the time comes to depart. In the early morning, I am already aboard the autonomous public transport. It pulls out of the cracked street I once played with Dad in, passing by the entrance of Fellye Neighborhood, driving off into the fiery, violet Terran dawn. I see my faded reflection in the window, and my chest jumps with revulsion.
So I look down, fidgeting with my touchpad—then the numbness abruptly leaves, and my tears fall once again.
By the time I drifted back to reality, my mouth and lips dry from dehydration, the hijackers had patched up the holes punched through the hull by the accidental explosion. Plenty of Senghavi passengers were spilling cerulean blood from beneath their exoskeletal coverings; though they were all alive, they needed medical attention.
Two hundred-something Senghavi civilians aboard this luxury spaceliner, and none had yet died. That stroke of luck offered me a glimmer of hope.
Pavok, the child, was emitting vibrations through the floor in his despair, the smell of rain and lilies becoming evident to me. It is starkly fascinating, the evolutionary dissimilarity between how native Terrans and Senghavi Terrans cry.
Those ships were delivering medical aid and critical provisions to the passengers, Commander Lokprel barked, the neutrino signals that encoded his gruff voice coming out from the intercom. Why did you laser them?
"Stop playing games," Jake snapped wearily into his radio. I recalled that his full name was Jacob Weaver, as Commander Lokprel had mentioned. A drop of blood streaked down his face. "We know what you're up to."
Paranoia will get you nowhere, Jacob. If we don't work with each other, you won't survive. We have detected an explosion aboard the spaceliner. Is anyone dead?
"Not yet," Jake growled. "But Fenni Svim will be if your forces keep approaching!"
Fenni Svim—the Senghavi from the Vellir Veneti Physics Lab, against whose skull Jake had pressed his pistol to halt the CDF's initial approach, hours ago—stiffened in her seat. I had never known the nuclear researcher very well before this barbarous event, but I prayed to the Gods of Siedi (whom I do not really believe in) that she would be okay.
Many of the passengers were still being kept by the windows to deter snipers. They included Pavok, behind whom Khadija stood guard.
"Sorry for attacking you," Jake suddenly said to me, his voice worn-out. "It's like Khadija said. The bugs know that humans are strong when they're united. It's why they try to play us against ourselves, to ally with just some of us, to try to make us hate each other; to hate ourselves. It's how they tore the United States apart. Everything they do... It's to make us ashamed of our species, our own culture, to lose hope in the future. If we were united, Casimir... they'd be terrified of us. And make no mistake—we're uniting again."
"E-even if what you say about mankind is true," I croaked, "Our species would not have settled anywhere but Earth. Our culture and history would still have been negligible and primitive, the richness and complexity of the Senghavi, still greater by many orders of magnitude."
"Casimir, did you go to one of the Indigenous Residential Schools?" Khadija asked.
"Y-yes," I managed, dusting off my formal wear and cleaning my glasses. "I was sent to one as a child. They are for those of us savage natives which conventional education could not sufficiently civilise."
Khadija's eyes softened with compassion, and she gestured to my wrist. "I asked because of that code on your wrist. I've heard about some of the things that happen in those places. The cruelty; the abuse."
I glanced at the abstract identification code tattooed onto my skin, faded with time. I hadn't thought about it in ages; it was but a remnant of my childhood, and I never paid it any attention.
"Residential schooling is necessary and proper," I tell her. "It is similar to human-mantid apartheid in its purpose; it keeps the public safe from savagery. "
"If we get out of this alive, I'm gonna take you with me to Russia," she said, wiping sweat from her brow. "Specifically, Moscow. It's where I lived after the fall of Türkiye. Man controls it, not the Senghavi."
I was already aware that a vast, untamed region named Zvorriu-Sai, located in Earth's northeastern quarter-sphere, is called Russia in simple-speak. A decade ago, Nieve fe Skellth had tried to civilise the hunter-gatherers who lived there, but his troops starved and froze in the snow.
It was with the multitude of planetary habitat fabricators that his army had been using that the native primates of Zvorriu-Sai constructed such cities as Moscow or Saint Petersburg.
"Russian civilization goes back over a millennium," Khadija explained. "I don't give a fuck about what the Senghavi have built on this planet; Russian architecture is my favourite, hands down. Anyway, it's the most stable and self-sufficient of the ten countries we've got left. Hard to invade, you know? It's seen better days, but the cities are nice, the economy is good. I think you'll find it's a hell of a lot less 'savage' than whatever the fuck the Parimthian Empire is doing."
To corroborate her claims, she showed me a photo from the gallery of her cracked, dusty touchpad. Before a busy canal, the waters tinted orange by a rising sun, a more relaxed version of her smiled into the camera alongside some human of the phenotype I had seen in the video of Tokyo. Looming over them was an intricate, palatial structure topped with colourful, onion-shaped domes.
"How... quaint," I replied, unsure of what to say, though it ignited dry laughter in Khadija.
"Looks like we got a communiqué from the UN," another hijacker announced, his mask still covering his face. I couldn't place his accent at all. He held up his own touchpad, displaying photos of the Colonial Governor herself—Perellanth fe Sumur—flanked by armed UN military personnel. They were clad in urban camouflage that was marred with blood. The black, plant-like extraterrestrial gazed defeatedly in the sterile lighting.
The UN had captured her! The Crown's decision to appoint a Vire as the leader of a Senghavi colony had been no small event. I was certain that after all the talk of Senghavi Terran independence, then followed by the Colonial Governor's capture, His Imperial Majesty regretted his progressivist decision.
"We... We did it!" Jake exclaimed, his voice disbelieving. "We took down Perellanth!"
You achieved nothing, Commander Lokprel retorted over the intercom. Not beyond the promotion of Benghoviu fe Prim to Acting Colonial Governor. If you kill Governor Sumur, Governor Benghoviu will become the permanent Colonial Governor as per the chain of command, and he will carry on the fine work of his predecessor.
Jake seemed to consider that situation a fair one, and he nodded to himself subtly. "Okay, sure. But if you do nothing, we'll still kill our first hostage."
What I can promise you is that Delegate Essintsya fe Baryn will submit an Act to the Forum of Delegates to recognize the sovereignty of the UN. It will be deliberated over for months, but it is your only realistic option. In return, we demand that you allow the passengers injured by one of your explosives to board CDF medical ships.
I recalled that the Forum of Delegates had voted Benghoviu fe Prim as Vice Colonial Governor just a year ago. And before even that, the Senghavi who lived on Vennec—my home continent on Earth—had popularly elected the ever-prudent Essintsya fe Baryn to the Forum. She was quite the economic liberal, as her sort was called.
Delegate Baryn's statements on the social contract between a people and their government, as well as her rejection that the Parimthian Crown ruled by divine right, had resonated deeply with me.
Jake's eyes hardened, and he turned his radio back on. "I said no games!"
There are no games here, Jacob! We only aim to preserve as much sapient life as possible. And you are out of options.
The hijacker who had shown Colonial Governor Sumur's prison photo gave Jake a withering look. "We're dragging this on, man. I don't want anyone to die."
"Don't talk to me about death, Ramiro. Not after what happened in the US."
The so-called United States of America... called Gholo Vieda in Parimthian. That region was Nieve fe Skellth's last successful conquest before he attempted to take on the vast, snowy expanses of Zvorriu-Sai. I wondered if, like Khadija's experience in Türkiye in the Niethvahi region, Jake had witnessed firsthand the cultural assimilation and political integration of Gholo Vieda into the rest of Parimthian Earth.
The conquest of Gholo Vieda and Niethvahi were the great accomplishments of Perellanth's predecessor, of course; but, in my opinion, the devotion of the (now captured) Perellanth to the causes of liberty, reason, equality, and sapientism far outshadowed anything that Nieve had done. I am certain, however, that the Parimthian Crown disagrees.
In any case, my faith in CDF Commander Lokprel loth Fonvie had not risen. Perhaps that was a good thing; otherwise, I might have regretted betraying the knowledge of antimatter research in order to elicit a more competent Parimthian intervention.
More security forces took up positions around the spaceliner, each ship split sharply into sunlight and shadow amid the black of space. The hijacker called Ramiro pointed to a series of smaller craft, which seemed to be pulling away from the luxury spaceliner. Escape pods!
"Hostages are falling through our fingers," Ramiro said. "We need to do something."
"Go to the rear," Khadija ordered. "Stop anyone else from sneaking out!"
Jake's radio crackled with the voice of someone in the cockpit. We've intercepted a neutrino transmission from the new guy, Benghoviu fe Prim. He's calling for some kind of emergency council at the highest levels in the Parimthian Empire.
I scoffed internally. The Crown would intervene for the sake of investigating all this talk of antimatter, whose alluring utility had hitherto been confined to theory and fiction. But it was doubtful that His Imperial Majesty would agree to an emergency council for the sake of his colonists' security and well-being. As (relatively) progressivist as he was in policy, he was still very much a punitive emperor, not a rewarding one.
"I told the commander to stop advancing—dammit!" Jake spat. "We're only letting medical craft get any closer. Fire at the corvettes!"
Affirmative, his radio crackled. Targets in sight.
The spaceliner's anti-collision lasers flashed against several faraway spacecraft. A succession of oxygen-fueled fires, each lasting for a [~split-second] against the vacuum of space, flared in the distance. Even so, the growing array of naval craft began to close in upon us again, surrounding the spaceliner in every dimension.
Switching again to the neutrino-connected channel, Jake gave a disgusted scowl. "Are you deaf, Commander? If your people keep getting closer, the deal is off!"
The more you fire, the closer we will get, Lokprel said. We are just making sure it is safe for the medical craft. As long as you refrain from harming them, we will not hurt you.
The hijacker in the cockpit radioed to Jake again, her voice sounding more alarmed.
We're picking up a massive object on our scanners. It's headed our way.
"How massive are we talking?" Jake asked.
It's... some kind of warship, I think. Over a hundred times our size.
"You're joking, right?"
"A Parimthian spacecraft carrier," murmured a soft, whimpery voice.
It was Fenni Svim again, her praying raptorial forelimbs tucked close in fear.
"The Imperial Parimthian Navy?" I asked. "They're really here?"
"Y-you shouldn't act surprised," Fenni said. "I know you were speaking to someone on the P-Parimthian side. You leaked our greatest secret, Casimir."
"R-right."
"What's she talking about, dude?" Khadija asked. Suspicion of betrayal lingered in her dark eyes. She had believed the lie that I was only calling a loved one when I contacted Mensim, >! who is at present an agent of Parimth!<; she had trusted me, and defended me against Jake's wrath.
I didn't answer. The very reason we needed antimatter was that the colonists' outerspace spanned but a meagre few millionths of the Parimthian Empire's total volume. I did not know what exactly a spacecraft carrier one hundred times the size of our spaceliner could do for the hostages, but it would be far more competent than the comparatively flimsy Colonial Defence Force.
Finally, after so many years of strategic modesty in the administration of the Crown's distant colony, of his Earth, as His Imperial Majesty suffered expense upon expense in countering the Imperium of Orion... Parimth had sent a warship of the Imperial Parimthian Navy, here in full force!
There was no need to inquire as to its distance; I could see it through my window. It was far enough that I could view the whole of its great form. Senghavi architecture, of course, is usually round, white, and glassy, traced with glowing accents; however, the imperial warship was boxy and shadowy black, visible only by the silhouette that it carved into the beaming sun.
Already, dozens of smaller craft—operated by some of the finest Senghavi pilots in the Milky Way—began spilling out from the spacecraft carrier, moving in the shadow of their gargantuan mothership. As even the hostage passengers became aware of its presence, the muted chatter and whimpering, which had been ambient across the aisles of the spaceliner, finally ceased.
Because of me, all of us—colonists and savages alike—were, for the first time in a decade, going to face a military intervention by Parimth itself.
2023.06.01 00:16 shocknjelly Big W Infinite Money Glitch
So I don't know how long this will last as I just stumbled on it.
I have Budget Direct Insurance which means I can buy Woolworths Gift cards at a discount (also available on Student Edge with a free account).
You can buy Wish (fuel, big w, dan murph, BWS and woolies) with a 3% discount, just woollies at a 4% discount or Big W or BWS at a 5% discount.
So could have got BWS cards for beer, but also need food and petrol so would rather have Wish cards.
So purchased a bunch of Big W gift cards then bought a TV for $1000 on click and collect. I then came in a said can't carry that thing, I'm going to cancel the order for a full refund in Wish cards AND because it was a "return" I kept the everyday rewards points. I just $50 in rewards dollars.
So for those following along I got gift cards at a 5% discount plus $50 rewards dollars that I can use on a bunch of stuff, which will earn more points.
submitted by shocknjelly to beermoneyAus [link] [comments]
I have Budget Direct Insurance which means I can buy Woolworths Gift cards at a discount (also available on Student Edge with a free account).
You can buy Wish (fuel, big w, dan murph, BWS and woolies) with a 3% discount, just woollies at a 4% discount or Big W or BWS at a 5% discount.
So could have got BWS cards for beer, but also need food and petrol so would rather have Wish cards.
So purchased a bunch of Big W gift cards then bought a TV for $1000 on click and collect. I then came in a said can't carry that thing, I'm going to cancel the order for a full refund in Wish cards AND because it was a "return" I kept the everyday rewards points. I just $50 in rewards dollars.
So for those following along I got gift cards at a 5% discount plus $50 rewards dollars that I can use on a bunch of stuff, which will earn more points.
2023.06.01 00:11 pancakeonions Master Unit List customizing...
I'd thought the MUL (http://www.masterunitlist.info/Unit/Filter) had an option to allow you to change the skill of the 'mech pilot, and that would update and display the new Alpha Strike card. But I just checked... And can't get it to do that.
Am I making this up?
How do you guys customize your unit cards (if you bother)?
submitted by pancakeonions to battletech [link] [comments]
Am I making this up?
How do you guys customize your unit cards (if you bother)?
2023.05.31 23:45 420_Escanor Marketing Automation Consultant at Big Pharma
I work as a Marketing Automation Consultant. My employer is a digital agency, but I am mostly outsourced on a full-time basis to clients, always within the pharmaceutical industry.
1. PERSONALIA
submitted by 420_Escanor to BESalary [link] [comments]
1. PERSONALIA
- Age: 32
- Education: Multiple Master degrees
- Work Experience : 8 years
- Civil status: living together
- Dependent children (Kinderen ten laste/enfants à charge): none
- Current job title/description: Marketing Automation Consultant
- (Ancienniteit/Anciennité): 8 yrs
- Official hours/week : 40 hours/week
- SectoIndustry: private sector. Employer is within the (digital) marketing industry, clients are within pharmaceuticals
- Gross wage (brut): 5600
- Net wage (incl. net fees): 3400
- 13th month (full? partial?): full
- Mobile phone? Laptop?: Mobile phone + MacBook Pro
- Meal vouchers: 8€ per day
- Ecocheques: none
- Group Insurance (% part employer): yes
- Hospitalisation Insurance: yes, incl family
- Other advantages (bonus, 14th month, stocks...): Unlimited mobile data
- City/region of work: Ghent and Antwerp
- Distance home-work (km's): 5 km
- Distance home-work (time): 10 minutes by car
- Do you need your own car?: no
- How is the travel home-work compensated: company car
- Company ca-bike (what's the budget, do you have fuel card?): Mercedes AMG, unlimited fuel card
- Amount of official holidays: 25
- (ADV, RTT) : 12
- Other extra holidays: none
- How easy can you plan a day off: quite easy
- Shiftwork or daytime job? Daytime
- Flexible working hours: Yes
- Amount of stress (standby for troubles at work)?: Very high
- How often does overtime happens: very often
- Education possibilities: Request as you want to do a course intern or extern (often permitted)
- Teleworking (besides corona-period): yes (4 days a week)
- Responsible for personnel (reports): No