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Wii U - "We love our Wii U, but Wii love U too!"
2011.06.07 18:49 okayyeah Wii U - "We love our Wii U, but Wii love U too!"
Reddit's source for news, pictures, reviews, videos, community insight, & anything related to Nintendo's 8th-generation console, the Wii U.
2011.06.20 19:04 marquis_of_chaos HistoryPorn: Exploring the past through historical photographs.
HistoryPorn. Exploring the past through historical photographs. Part of the SFW Porn Network
2008.11.30 06:43 News and Notes on the Structured Query Language
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2024.05.11 04:51 mrboston84 Concerns Regarding the Price for Previously Authenticated Comics by JSA & Future Price Changes at Events by Creators
Hello all.
I read and re-read the published article, "Signed. Sealed. Delivered. CGC and JSA Now Offering Combined Services for Comics!" that was posted on May 7, 2024.
There were plenty of questions I had that were answered in this article, but it also left me with concerns regarding signed comic books that have already been authenticated by JSA at events and possible permanent price changes that could negatively affect fans who go to these events to get their comic books signed.
Signed. Sealed. Delivered. CGC and JSA Now Offering Combined Services for Comics! CGC (cgccomics.com)
Below, I have copied and pasted a paragraph that stood out to me from this article:
"If your autographed collectible has a JSA WPP sticker on it, you should select “CGC Grading” as your submission type and “JSA Autograph Authentication” as an add-on service when filling out the CGC online submission form. JSA autograph authentication fees still apply because JSA must reverify the authenticity of the autograph and JSA WPP sticker. If the autograph and JSA WPP sticker are genuine, your comic will be automatically encapsulated with the CGC Signature Series label, which will identify the signer’s name and the date signed. This information, along with a notation that the signature was witnessed by JSA, will also be displayed in the grader notes on the CGC website."
1) One of my concerns regarding the paragraph above from the FAQ section is the pricing to get these already verified comics submitted to CGC for encapsulation.
Last September, I attended a Comic-Con and had a number of comic books signed by artists and writers. Rather than have them witnessed by a CGC affiliate, I went and had them verified by JSA where they implanted the JSA WPP sticker on the inside cover of the comic book as well as providing a basic certification card that has a certification number for JSA's database.
For each of those books I had verified, it cost me $10. That number may not seem like a lot, but if you had a number of signed books as I had on that day, it totaled out to a big amount to get authenticated. I understand as well that it was a personal choice to get these books authenticated by JSA, but at the time, it was feasible considering it was an affordable option versus using a CGC affiliate that charges $10-$20 per signature depending on the person(s) signing and an additional $10-$20 per book for their witnessed services.
Let's not forget the $45 fee it costs to submit books to CGC for a signature series label and the $20 return shipping.
So, let's get to the point of my concern regarding CGC's new policy when it comes to getting these authenticated books submitted for “re-verification” and grading.
In my opinion, paying $25 to CGC to have JSA "re-verify" the authenticity of the autograph and their JSA WPP sticker is excessive because the customer already paid $10 for their services at the event it was originally authenticated.
The certification number on the WPP sticker should be readily available in JSA's database to verify the authenticity (assuming that it is organized and logged) and the price should be much, much lower than $25.
A suggestion I have is that there should be two options in the "Add-On" section for JSA signatures. The first option, "JSA Autograph Authentication", should be for comic books that do not have the WPP sticker, and the fee would be $25 since the signature will be authenticated for the first time.
Then a new category for comic books that have the WPP sticker inside the book should be called "JSA Authenticated Signature". The second option would inform CGC that JSA had previously verified the signature at a previous event since the WPP sticker is located inside the book.
This particular tier should cost between $5-$10 since the customer already paid $10 for the authentication at the event. Now, this is just a suggestion and in no way am I demanding this to be official, but it doesn't feel right to have to pay $25 for a service that has already been provided.
Now, I am aware that this new feature is optional, but with the addition of JSA, it is my strong belief that creators and their team will take advantage of this opportunity to increase prices on their signatures for capital gain (meaning that creators might take this as an opportunity to provide less favorable signatures for fans unless the fans are paying a premium with the intent for signature grading).
I am all for supporting the creators of the comic industry, but fans should not have to suffer increased prices because of this new feature.
Again, these are just concerns that have been floating around in my head since the release of this article and I wanted to voice it on here. I understand that my second concern is simply hypothetical, but history has proven time and time again that when companies and people can capitalize on making money, they will do so 100% of the time.
submitted by mrboston84 to CGCComics [link] [comments]
I read and re-read the published article, "Signed. Sealed. Delivered. CGC and JSA Now Offering Combined Services for Comics!" that was posted on May 7, 2024.
There were plenty of questions I had that were answered in this article, but it also left me with concerns regarding signed comic books that have already been authenticated by JSA at events and possible permanent price changes that could negatively affect fans who go to these events to get their comic books signed.
Signed. Sealed. Delivered. CGC and JSA Now Offering Combined Services for Comics! CGC (cgccomics.com)
Below, I have copied and pasted a paragraph that stood out to me from this article:
"If your autographed collectible has a JSA WPP sticker on it, you should select “CGC Grading” as your submission type and “JSA Autograph Authentication” as an add-on service when filling out the CGC online submission form. JSA autograph authentication fees still apply because JSA must reverify the authenticity of the autograph and JSA WPP sticker. If the autograph and JSA WPP sticker are genuine, your comic will be automatically encapsulated with the CGC Signature Series label, which will identify the signer’s name and the date signed. This information, along with a notation that the signature was witnessed by JSA, will also be displayed in the grader notes on the CGC website."
1) One of my concerns regarding the paragraph above from the FAQ section is the pricing to get these already verified comics submitted to CGC for encapsulation.
Last September, I attended a Comic-Con and had a number of comic books signed by artists and writers. Rather than have them witnessed by a CGC affiliate, I went and had them verified by JSA where they implanted the JSA WPP sticker on the inside cover of the comic book as well as providing a basic certification card that has a certification number for JSA's database.
For each of those books I had verified, it cost me $10. That number may not seem like a lot, but if you had a number of signed books as I had on that day, it totaled out to a big amount to get authenticated. I understand as well that it was a personal choice to get these books authenticated by JSA, but at the time, it was feasible considering it was an affordable option versus using a CGC affiliate that charges $10-$20 per signature depending on the person(s) signing and an additional $10-$20 per book for their witnessed services.
Let's not forget the $45 fee it costs to submit books to CGC for a signature series label and the $20 return shipping.
So, let's get to the point of my concern regarding CGC's new policy when it comes to getting these authenticated books submitted for “re-verification” and grading.
In my opinion, paying $25 to CGC to have JSA "re-verify" the authenticity of the autograph and their JSA WPP sticker is excessive because the customer already paid $10 for their services at the event it was originally authenticated.
The certification number on the WPP sticker should be readily available in JSA's database to verify the authenticity (assuming that it is organized and logged) and the price should be much, much lower than $25.
A suggestion I have is that there should be two options in the "Add-On" section for JSA signatures. The first option, "JSA Autograph Authentication", should be for comic books that do not have the WPP sticker, and the fee would be $25 since the signature will be authenticated for the first time.
Then a new category for comic books that have the WPP sticker inside the book should be called "JSA Authenticated Signature". The second option would inform CGC that JSA had previously verified the signature at a previous event since the WPP sticker is located inside the book.
This particular tier should cost between $5-$10 since the customer already paid $10 for the authentication at the event. Now, this is just a suggestion and in no way am I demanding this to be official, but it doesn't feel right to have to pay $25 for a service that has already been provided.
- My other concern is this new feature that has been added to the grading process: JSA Autograph Grade. I'm not sure how exactly CGC and JSA are going to go about grading the signature whether it is by their penmanship, the type of utensil used, etc.
Now, I am aware that this new feature is optional, but with the addition of JSA, it is my strong belief that creators and their team will take advantage of this opportunity to increase prices on their signatures for capital gain (meaning that creators might take this as an opportunity to provide less favorable signatures for fans unless the fans are paying a premium with the intent for signature grading).
I am all for supporting the creators of the comic industry, but fans should not have to suffer increased prices because of this new feature.
Again, these are just concerns that have been floating around in my head since the release of this article and I wanted to voice it on here. I understand that my second concern is simply hypothetical, but history has proven time and time again that when companies and people can capitalize on making money, they will do so 100% of the time.
2024.05.09 22:56 Yeania_aeon Wing and a Prayer part 1
Wing and a Prayer part 1
Atodine Space Academy, West Wing
Zrieri made her way down the academy hallway. The feathers around her neck were ruffled with annoyance. It was bad enough for a student to show up late for class, but for a professor it was even worse. Still, it was unavoidable given the situation. Zrieri paused to smooth down her feathers before entering the classroom. The chattering between the students quickly fell off as she walked into the room. Zrieri walked with purpose to the podium in front of the class.
“My apologies for my tardiness.” Zrieri said after switching the large display behind her from idle to the presentation file she had prepared. “Let us begin with today’s lesson.”
The Rachanit, an advanced spacefaring species, marked the first contact between the Atodine people and an alien civilization. These insectoid beings, despite their initially unsettling appearance, exuded an apparent friendliness that led to a request for trade and the establishment of an embassy on Atodine Prime. Though the leaders initially hesitated, they eventually consented, allowing the Rachanits to settle into an embassy with minimal disruption. However, as time progressed, a chilling realization began to seep through the cracks of diplomatic pretense.
People began mysteriously disappearing in the vicinity of the Rachanit embassy, prompting suspicions of foul play. These suspicions were confirmed when a civilian inadvertently stumbled upon undeniable evidence of the Rachanits' true nature as a carnivorous species. It became abundantly clear that the embassy had served as a sinister testing ground for assessing their efficacy at hunting and consuming Atodine flesh.
Shortly after this alarming discovery, the Rachanits discarded any lingering pretense and declared a full-blown war against us. In the face of this unforeseen aggression, the Atodine were thrust into a protracted and grueling defensive battle. However, throughout the course of this conflict, a glimmer of hope emerged.
The Atodine, tenacious and resourceful, managed to acquire first hand knowledge of the Rachanits' spacecraft technology. Each skirmish and engagement became an invaluable lesson in the art of combating these formidable adversaries. Despite the odds stacked against them, the Atodine successfully repelled the Rachanits' attacks, preventing them from reaching their vulnerable homeworld.
An unintended consequence of their resistance would prove enlightening, if somewhat terrifying. Upon salvaging the wreckage of Rachanit spacecraft, it became apparent that their empire sprawled across vast reaches of space, far eclipsing anything the Atodine could fathom. The asymmetry in size and power was stunningly conspicuous, rendering the Atodine acutely aware of the inevitable disparity they faced.
Nevertheless, the Rachanits remained unwavering in their singular focus: the utter annihilation of Atodine fleets. It was unmistakable that their intent was to obliterate any possibility of retaliation or counterattack. The Atodine, fully cognizant of their limitations, dedicated themselves to fortifying their defenses with renewed fervor, continually refining their strategies and capabilities.
At the heart of this epic cosmic struggle laid Atodine Prime, the cherished nest world of the Atodines. Suspended in the delicate balance between preservation and potential devastation, it has become both a symbol and a stronghold where the fate of an entire civilization hung in the balance. The echoes of battle reverberated through its valleys and mountains, its cities, and countryside, as the Atodine brace themselves against the relentless onslaught of their enigmatic and carnivorous foe.
After meticulously sifting through an extensive array of data harvested from numerous Rachanit ship databases, a comprehensive star map has emerged, painting a detailed picture of the systems strategically occupied by these enigmatic beings and the array of species they subjugated under their oppressive rule. Amidst the disturbing revelations, one unsettling discovery stood out among all others; the de-sentience and complete objectification of certain species that were tragically reduced to nothing more than mere livestock, subjected to unimaginable suffering and exploitation at the hands of their Rachanit overlords.
However, the latest influx of information procured directly from the Rachanits themselves shed light on particular systems that starkly diverged from their controlled territories. These exceptional star systems were distinctly demarcated as a desolate dead zone, an eerie aberration within the otherwise vast web of domains firmly under Rachanit control.
The absence of their iron grip in this particular region raised eyebrows among the Atodine research team, prompting a flurry of questions and stirring curiosity about the secrets it may hold. Why were these particular systems omitted from the domineering reach of the Rachanits? What significance did it hold in the grand tapestry of their galactic conquest? Such queries fueled the Atodine determination to dig deeper into this enigmatic anomaly, propelling us further into uncharted territory where answers awaited our unwavering investigation.
Atodine Orbital Station, Hangar 3
“This is the ship?” Zrieri's concern was evident in her voice as she confronted the chief scientist about the makeshift spacecraft.
With a mix of curiosity and skepticism, she questioned whether this mixture of Rachanit scrap and their own technology would truly suffice for the journey to the Dead Zone. As Zrieri ran her feathered hands across the hull, one couldn't help but sense her apprehension. Krenuk, the lead researcher, was slightly irritated by Zrieri's doubt, puffed up his feathers in annoyance before responding.
“I assure you, the ship is completely space worthy. Yes there has been extensive use of recycled materials, but do not doubt my personal expertise in shipbuilding.”
Zrieri chuckled at his indignation, but bowed slightly in apology.
“This ship is not just a crude amalgamation of resources.” Krenuk continued. “It is a carefully crafted vessel. What's more, it is equipped with a functioning faster than light, or FTL drive.”
Zrieri looked back to the ship. “I wasn’t aware we had finally unlocked that secret from the Rachanit.”
The chief scientist shifted his stance. “We have come to an understanding of the underlying fundamentals of FTL travel. In this case, however, the ship is utilizing a drive salvaged from a Rachanit craft. We are hopeful with the maiden flight to gather enough data to construct our own FTL drives moving forward.” Krenuk's expression turned grave. “This is, however, more than just a test flight. The purpose of venturing into this so-called Dead Zone is to unravel the mystery surrounding it.” He smoothed down the feathers around his neck before continuing. “The Rachanits, either out of fear or some deliberate choice, avoid this area altogether. It’s crucial to investigate why.”
“Do we know anything at all about this area of space other than the Rachanit avoid it like an irradiated wasteland?”
“The truth is, our knowledge of this system is limited beyond major celestial bodies. The dead zone has remained shrouded in enigma despite our attempts to probe the area.”
“Thus, the decision to construct the spacecraft using any salvageable materials we could find.”
“We are making do with what we have. Materials are scarce with the war effort and the loss of most of our off-world resources.” Krenuk folded his feathered hands behind his back. “At the very least, it’s a more robust vehicle than our first star-fliers boarded to enter space.”
Zrieri was raised as a chick on the stories of the early star-fliers. It was part of the reason she had joined the Starcorps. Zrieri was also aware that not all of those brave pathfinders returned home to Atodine Prime. She realized she was now taking the same kind of risks as her predecessors, not simply for knowledge and technological advancement, but to save her people.
“I just hope that this improbable combination of Rachanit scrap and our own technology will get us the answers we need.” she said, gently patting the hull of the ship. “So, what is the ship’s name?”
***
Three hours later the experimental craft, freshy christened Voidflyer, lifted out the hangar bay and made its first flight into space.
Zrieri worked through the controls making sure everything was in working order. She could trust the main proposition systems at least. The station crew had stocked up Voidflyer with plenty of supplies, enough to last her months out in space if necessary. Zrieri meticulously performed her routine checks on the myriad of controls in the cockpit. She was familiar with the controls as it had been ripped right out of a VF-70, the Atodine main-line fighter craft. With her checks complete, Zrieri reached out to command to request the necessary clearance for her imminent departure.
All systems seemed to be functioning optimally, or at least all of the systems that originated from her own civilization. Something was wrong with the FTL navigation system. Zrieri was puzzled by the unexpected errors that began to populate the display screen after entering the coordinates. Her curiosity was further peaked when she realized that the information was being presented in the intricate and alien Rachanit script. The computer was supposed to translate any information into the Atodine language, yet for some reason the error messages seemed to be bypassing the translation subsystems. She was completely unfamiliar with Rachanit, meaning she couldn’t easily diagnose whatever the problem was.
That didn’t mean she was about to give up. The determined pilot carefully retrieved the dataslate of documents Krenuk had provided earlier. Leafing through them diligently, she sought to extract any useful insights that might shed light on this perplexing predicament. Each line and every cryptic symbol on those ancient pages demanded her complete attention and scrutiny. Guided by a resolute spirit, Zrieri cautiously maneuvered through the constrained confines of the spacecraft, making her way towards the heart of its technological prowess, the FTL drive.
A testament to Atodine ingenuity, this intricate piece of alien machinery was somehow interfaced with their own spacefaring technology. It was far from a simple hack-job, but it was obvious a lot of improvising had been done in the integration of disparate technologies. But beyond the integration into the Voidflyer, There was an entire custom built monitoring system added on to observe it in action and gather as much data as possible. It held the key to hyper-dimensional travel capabilities for the Atodine civilization.
With utmost care, she unscrewed a side panel from its sturdy casing. Zrieri was aware how rarely any drive system survived the destruction of the ship it was housed in. The fact the FTL drive had been recovered intact was almost enough to make the Atodine thank the long abandoned gods of her people, because it was a miracle. After exposing the complex network of circuitry and delicate crystalline cards that lay within, Zrieri placed a data slate adjacent to the humming drive.
She concentrated her focused gaze upon each of the crystalline cards, meticulously examining their arrangement and configuration. Taking solace in Krenuk's meticulous notes that he had shared, which documented his extensive research on the craft's inner workings, Zrieri embarked on an arduous task of ascertaining the precise function of each card and testing them. Weighing each possibility with both caution and precision, she soon encountered one card that baffled even the seasoned researcher.
Summoning her audacity and expertise, Zrieri delicately removed this enigmatic card from its designated slot. Strangely, this caused no obvious change in the gentle humming of the drive. She ran a diagnostic, or at least that’s what the program was labeled as. According to Krenuk's notes, the readouts indicated the drive was in working order.
The Rachanit went as far as to put a lock-out chip in the drive itself to keep away from the Dead Zone. I wonder, is it because of some kind of suicidal curiosity in their warriors, or is it really that dangerous?
Zrieri pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind as she closed the access panel. She placed the crystalline card into a padded box and stored it in a nearby equipment locker before retreating back to the familiar comfort of her seat. Zrieri’s feathered hands flowed over the control console, preparing the ship once more for the jump to FTL. She cautiously reentered the complex matrix of coordinates that would lead them to the elusive enemy-free expanse of space.
Before hitting the final conformation, Zrieri looked out at her home of Atodine Prime, then out into the starry void. She thought back to Janaria , the first Atodine to enter space, whose pod ultimately did not survive reentry. Now Zrieri found herself about to take the same kind of risk.
One way or another, I’ll be joining you in the history files, Janaria. Zrieri reached out and engaged the FTL drive.
This time, to her immense relief and satisfaction, the powerful FTL drive seamlessly spooled up, producing a mesmerizing cascade of energy that gracefully enveloped the small craft. With a surge of anticipation, Zrieri expertly guided her vessel through the dazzling vortices of swirling cosmic energies, initiating the seamless transition into the space fold. As the ship disappeared into the rippling fabric of the universe, an exhilarating wave of accomplishment washed over Zrieri.
Was this what it felt like when Janaria first pushed past the atmosphere and looked down on Atodine Prime? She wondered.
Dead Zone, System 001
The Voidflyer emerged from Hyperspace, only to be greeted with the sudden blare of the proximity alarm. The klaxon reverberated through the cockpit, causing Zrieri's heart to lurch. Her instincts kicked in immediately, the adrenaline-fueled surge urging her into swift action. Looking at the main screen, she found herself face to face with a colossal object, ominously positioned right at her Hyperspace lane exit point. A collision seemed inevitable, a disaster looming on the horizon. However, Zrieri was chosen for this mission for a reason. Her years of piloting experience and natural dexterity came to the fore as she deftly maneuvered the ship, skillfully navigating her way around the massive obstacle. With mere centimeters to spare, she managed to avert catastrophe, her pulse still racing with the close call.
But little did she know that the challenge was far from over. As she glided further through the cosmic expanse, her sensors pinged multiple objects all in close proximity to her small ship. This time, Zrieri knew she couldn't rely solely on her reflexes and luck to navigate what had to be a debris field. Instead she had to execute precise calculations and strategic movements to avoid a potentially devastating impact. Mid-action, countless variables raced through her mind as Zrieri quickly mapped out a course, but didn’t have time for the computer to double check it. She carefully dodged and weaved through the treacherous path, desperately seeking a clear passage to safety. Finally, Zrieri managed to break free from the seemingly endless maze of debris that had been her welcoming committee.
Zrieri took a moment to collect herself, before gently guiding the ship away from the wreckage. This allowed her to survey the scene with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. A thorough scan followed, revealing a disconcerting sight. Much of the shattered fragments and twisted metal matched the unmistakable signature of Rachanit ships. The distinctive marks and faded insignias were evident, signifying the remnants of what must have once been a formidable fleet. However, some of the debris appeared significantly older, betraying the passage of time and hinting at past encounters. It was as though Zrieri had stumbled upon a graveyard of battles long forgotten.
Yet, amidst the mangled wreckage of Rachanit derelicts, the scan brought forth an unsettling revelation. Interspersed among their battered Rachanit ships, were vessels of an entirely unknown origin. Even in their destroyed state, these unidentified ships possessed an air of mystique and promise. Unlike their counterparts, they seemed remarkably intact, their hulls still retaining a semblance of functionality. They were enigmas within the chaos, adding an extra layer of intrigue to the already intricate tapestry of cosmic intrigue that enshrouded Zrieri's surroundings.
With a careful hand, Zrieri adjusted the heading of her vessel. She maneuvered the sleek and agile Voidflyer back into the sprawling debris field, if at a much reduced velocity. Her desire for a closer examination of the mysterious unknown derelicts overwhelmed her, urging her to explore the unknown. As Zrieri drew closer, she flicked a switch, activating the floodlights that adorned the exterior of the Voindflyer. The resulting luminosity revealed a distinctively boxy design amidst the dilapidated wreckage, catching her attention instantly.
However, it was not just the peculiar shape that captured Zrieri's focus; it was a symbol etched onto the hull that truly intrigued her. It depicted a blue sphere covered with equally vibrant green shapes, all of which was accentuated by bold and striking white markings. Puzzled, Zrieri directed her scrutiny towards the battered and scored black hull, contemplating its origins and purpose. Seeking answers, she turned her gaze towards the consoles of the Voidflyer, hoping that her ship's computer could assist her in uncovering the enigmatic text adorning the derelict.
To her surprise, the ship's computer managed to decipher and translate the cryptic message emblazoned on the hull, revealing two significant pieces of information. First, the text read "UNSD Providence," a name that indicated the derelict was once a formidable heavy cruiser. Fascinated by this unexpected revelation, Zrieri felt her curiosity deepen even further. Delving into her thoughts, she contemplated the implications of discovering a seemingly abandoned spaceship amidst the wreckage-filled void.
Despite her enthusiasm, a hint of caution tinged Zrieri's decisions as she carefully piloted the Voidflyer closer to the drifting hulk. Her gaze fixed upon what appeared to be a docking port, offering a potential connection point between the two vessels. However, her uncertainty regarding the compatibility of the Voidflyer's own docking port with that of the Providence caused a momentary hesitation to grip her. The last thing she desired was to initiate a risky and potentially hazardous docking process. Yet, as Zrieri observed the Providence more attentively, she noticed an intriguing detail — the seemingly dormant vessel still retained a glimmer of power. This revelation sparked a flicker of hope within her adventurous spirit. Against her initial reservations, Zrieri's gaze fixated upon the extended docking port of the Providence, reaching out as if inviting the Voidflyer to establish a connection. The juxtaposition of uncertainty and possibility warred within her as she weighed the risks and rewards, ultimately poised to make a daring decision that could potentially reshape her journey.
As Zrieri expertly maneuvered the sleek Voidflyer closer to the Providence docking port, her eyes widened with surprise as she noticed that the aliens' docking mechanism perfectly aligned with her ship's. It was a rare stroke of luck amidst the inhospitable reaches of space. Strapping on her trusty space suit and securing her helmet, she prepared herself for the treacherous journey ahead. With a resolute determination, Zrieri made her way towards the airlock, the gateway into the unidentified vessel. As she stepped inside the airlock, her eyes immediately fixed upon the readout, which displayed alarming details. Multiple breaches in the hull of the Providence had resulted in a vacuum and complete absence of gravity within its confines. However given how long the derelict had been adrift neither condition was altogether surprising.
A sense of inconvenience filled the air, as Zrieri grumbled to herself about her distaste for weightlessness while deftly cycling the airlock. She remembered how unpleasant that part of her training had been at the academy. The airlock opened, revealing a disconcerting spectacle before her. The interior of the ship was shrouded in blinking red emergency lighting, amplifying the eerie atmosphere that enveloped her. The fact that there was still reserve power left spoke volumes of the ship design. Uncertain of the path that lay ahead, Zrieri cautiously embarked upon the red-lit corridor, her senses heightened with each tentative step of her gravtalons.
Along her journey through the labyrinthine passageway, she encountered various rooms, some preserved in a state of integrity while others ominously opened up to the unforgiving empty void of space. Each room silently bearing witness to the mysterious events that had unfolded within the bowels of the derelict vessel. Finally, reaching the end of the corridor, Zrieri's keen eyes caught sight of a vertical shaft ascending above her. An upward path beckoned her, promising a potential answer to the enigmatic depths of the ship.
Caution prevailing over curiosity, Zrieri meticulously marked her previous locations, ensuring that she wouldn't succumb to the disorienting expanse of this forsaken place. Her determination echoed through the corridor as she muttered to herself, vowing not to lose her way amidst this derelict maze. She turned off her gravtalons and began to ascend the shaft with a blend of nimbleness and concentration.
Zrieri eventually reached the pinnacle, only to be confronted by a formidable pair of sealed doors. A glimmer of frustration danced across her features as she tirelessly attempted to budge them, employing every ounce of her strength. Yet, fate seemed to conspire against her, refusing to grant access to the secrets that lay beyond those imposing barriers. Undeterred by this setback, resolve surged through her being as she descended back down the shaft, propelled by an unwavering determination to discover a tool that could pry open those obstinate doors.
Zreini retraced her steps down the cold, dimly lit shaft, her mind focused on finding a solution to the sealed doors blocking her path. Every step echoed against the metallic walls as she scanned her surroundings, desperately seeking an object that could serve as a makeshift pry bar. After what felt like an eternity, her eyes caught a glimmer of hope, a long piece of metal hidden among the debris. Without hesitation, she snatched it up, feeling the weight and sturdiness it held. Ascending the shaft once again, Zreini's determination grew as she approached the sealed doors.
With a determined expression, she inserted the metal bar between the unforgiving panels, channeling every ounce of her strength into prying them apart. The doors resisted stubbornly, as if mocking her efforts.
Frustration bubbling inside her, she muttered aloud, "Stubborn doors!" her words swallowed by the vast emptiness of the ship's corridors.
Yet, Zreini refused to yield. Summoning her resolve, she persisted, pouring all her energy into forcing the doors open. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of exertion, the doors relented, reluctantly sliding apart. Yet, victory came at a price. Caught off guard by their sudden movement, Zreini stumbled, crashing into the cold bulkhead opposite the opening. The impact sent the metal bar flying in the opposite direction, clattering noiselessly as it bounced against the floor and out into the void.
Ignoring the ache in her shoulder and the taste of defeat lingering in her beak, Zreini straightened herself, reaching up to adjust her helmet. Her gaze fixed upon the widened door opening, curiosity mingling with anticipation as she peered into the darkness beyond. It didn't take long for realization to dawn upon her. She had discovered the bridge of the Providence, or rather, what was left of it. The telltale signs of Rachanit weaponry ravaged the room, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation.
Undeterred by the destruction, Zreini carefully maneuvered her way into the bridge. Her eyes scanned the remnants of what once was a bustling hub of activity, finally settling on the raised seat at its center. There, she found the remains of the Providence's captain, preserved in his breached spacesuit, desiccated but in-tact. The space mummy was still strapped into the seat. A sense of melancholy washed over her, dying to the void was a fear in every spacer’s heart. At the same time, she felt a sense of awe at the silent dedication displayed by the fallen leader, standing watch eternally as his ship drifted.
Approaching the seat with reverence, Zreini examined the captain's final resting place. Despite her eagerness to gather information, she vowed to disturb the scene as little as possible. Zreini had no clue what this species’ burial rites were, but she wanted to show nothing but respect to the fallen spacer. With delicate movements, she gently pushed the captain's arm aside, revealing a functioning screen nestled in the seat's armrest. The ship's mainframe was still functioning, at least somewhat. The last remnants of the Providence's technological spirit flickered on the screen.
Without wasting another moment, Zreini retrieved her scanner, her nimble fingers deftly navigating its interface. Its soft blue light illuminated her face as she aimed it towards the mainframe, hoping to extract any fragment of valuable information, a lifeline of knowledge hidden within the ship's core. To her surprise and relief, the scanner successfully retrieved an abundance of data, promising a glimpse into the Providence's secrets and history.
As Zreini meticulously sifted through the retrieved information, her gaze inadvertently wandered to the badge adorning the captain's chest area. Illuminated by the flickering lights, the insignia held a profound significance. She directed her scanner towards it, her curiosity demanding answers. In an instant, the translation software swiftly deciphered the inscription etched upon the badge: "Rory Parks, Commanding Officer, UNSD Providence."
The discovery sent a shiver down her spine. Names became more than mere words or titles. They embodied lives, stories, and sacrifices. Zreini couldn't help but wonder about the brave souls who once inhabited this ship, each with their own tale, now buried deep within its steel and circuitry. Motivated by preservation and a duty to honor those who came before, she transmitted the gathered data to the Voidflyers' computer, ensuring that the legacy of the UNSD Providence would not fade into oblivion.
Zreini, her expression somber and contemplative, crossed her arms as she slowly lowered herself down in front of the fallen commander. Her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy, she spoke in a hushed yet confident voice, addressing Commander Rory Parker.
"I must admit, dear Commander, that I haven't had the opportunity to encounter your kind or, indeed, any being quite like you before," Zreini's voice carried an air of respect and reverence, as she acknowledged the uniqueness of their encounter. "But now, in this moment, fate has brought us together. From this void, you shall watch over and protect your people, forever enshrined in their collective memory, Commander Rory Parker."
With these words of farewell hanging in the air, Zreini gracefully rose from her bowed position and set off towards her trusted Voidflyer. As she made her way back, there was an uncanny synchronicity to the scene that unfolded before her. It appeared as though the UNSD Providence, the massive spacecraft that had been her destination, had been awaiting her visit. Its presence was a testament to the peculiarities of the universe, always finding ways to manifest remarkable coincidences. However, it was at this very moment, upon entering the airlock, that a disconcerting disruption shattered the tranquility.
The emergency lighting within the vessel flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows and sending shivers down Zreini's spine. A surge of anticipation coursed through her veins, hinting at something extraordinary about to unfold. Outside the confines of the airlock, Zreini's eyes widened with disbelieving awe. It seemed as though Commander Rory Parker himself stood summing near, his ghostly figure illuminated by the tumultuous illumination of the faltering emergency lights. In a poetic gesture, he raised his arm in a quiet salute, characterizing a final farewell before the lighting altogether faded into darkness, leaving Zreini alone in her bewilderment.
Startled and perplexed by what she had just witnessed, Zreini reached for her trusty light, the beam of its illumination slicing through the pervasive darkness. She meticulously scanned her surroundings, eager to uncover any trace of the enigmatic Commander Rory. But alas, there was nothingness. No signs, no traces; simply an impenetrable void. Craving answers, doubts began to swirl within her mind like a chaotic maelstrom. She checked her life support systems for any issues, but they came back all green. Was she just tired, or was it something more?
"What was that…apparition? Was it just my imagination, or was it actually the fleeting specter of the departed commander?" Zreini questioned herself amid the solitude of the airlock.
The implications of such an encounter with the ethereal world sent shivers down her spine, making her question the boundaries of reality itself. One thing she was sure of, there would be no mention of it in her report. Gathering her wits and wrestling her emotions under control, Zreini closed the airlock behind her, sealing off the mysteries that lay beyond. Stepping back into the familiar confines of her ship, she activated the cycle sequence, disconnecting from the Providence.
Slowly but surely, the Voidflyer broke free from the gravitational grip of the human vessel, propelling itself out carefully from the debris field. After the ship was safely out of any immediate danger, Zrieri engaged with the data she had meticulously gathered from the ship. She knew now the race called themselves humans and they originated on the third planet of this very system. Zreini's star charts underwent a transformation. The seamless integration of the acquired information initiated an update, revealing new cosmic coordinates within the vast tapestry of the universe.
And then, facilitated by the translation software, an unexpected revelation emerged, a message intended for the Providence, concealed amidst the data. Anchored to the coordinates that had materialized before her, a message finally unraveled, demanding her attention.
"Earth has fallen, fall back to Alpha Centauri."
The words struck at the core of Zreini's being, triggering a surge of empathy and concern. She turned her ship's sensors towards the third planet of the system. Even with the horrors of the war with the Rachanit fresh in her mind, Zrieri was not ready for what she saw. The planet was destroyed, Not just glassed from an orbital bombardment, the planet had been cracked in two, all the way to its core. Earth’s once life-giving atmosphere had been stripped away by the solar winds of its own star when its magnetic field collapsed.
“Monsters…” Zrieri whispered. With clenched fists and a resolute expression, Zreini punched in the coded star system coordinates, her voice filled with a measured determination. "I pray that this Alpha Centauri still exists, that something remains of these people! The universe needs some measure of hope at least."
Zrieri was well aware that the message she had unveiled was distressingly dated, possibly an echo from a bygone era. But it didn’t matter, she needed to know. Without hesitation, driven by the yearning for answers and the spark of hope, Zreini once again activated the FTL drive, plunging herself and her vessel into the abyssal depths of interstellar travel. The destination lay before her, shrouded in mystery
Dead Zone, System 002 (Alpha Centauri)
As the Voidflyer hurtled through hyper-dimensional space, its sophisticated translation software strained to piece together a comprehensive Lexicon from the fragments of data Zreini had managed to extract from the human spaceship. Nonetheless, before the system could complete its task, Zreini's attention was abruptly yanked away by the blaring of the proximity alarm at the hyperlane exit, signaling a looming threat.
“Not again!” she chirped as she took hold of the controls tightly.
An immense and ominous presence awaited her, and Zreini instinctively exerted all her strength, desperately maneuvering to dodge the colossal object. Even with the maneuverability of the Voidflyer and her own skill and experience, an inevitable disaster struck with full force. The Voidflyer collided with the object, scraping along her underside. Alarms and claxons rang in Zrieri’s ears before her head collided with her console, plunging her into unconsciousness.
***
When Zreini finally regained consciousness and surveyed her surroundings, she was met with a bewildering revelation: she was miraculously alive.
“I guess I won’t be meeting Janaria today after all.” She muttered as she rubbed her forehead gently.
However, the same fate could not be claimed for the crippled Voidflyer, which now lay dormant and powerless in the enshrouding darkness of the cockpit. There were numerous hull breaches, but the cockpit was still fully pressurized. Emergency power was keeping the life support systems online for the time being, but every other system seemed to be offline. Peering through the cockpit windows, her gaze fell upon a disheartening sight; a trail of coolant and vapors spiraling from her damaged vessel.
And there, in stark defiance against the backdrop of the cold celestial abyss, loomed the cause of her misfortune: an enormous, angular, obsidian ship. Its design bore a striking resemblance to that of the UNSD Providence, but what sent a shiver down Zreini's spine was the sight of the behemoth's menacing turrets trained directly upon her vulnerable craft. As if it would take more than one shot to vaporize the Voidflyer.
The implications of this encounter fueled a fearful realization within her; humanity still lingered in the cosmos. As Zreini intently studied the illuminated lettering adorning the side of the imposing vessel, She had been on smaller space stations than this singular ship. It was reminiscent in certain design elements to the Providence, and a sudden surge of urgency propelled her to hastily employ her scanner in an attempt to decipher the meaning. With bated breath, she witnessed the screen illuminate with its translation: "UNSD Relentless."
The humans were indeed present; evoking a maelstrom of emotions within her already frayed nerves. In that critical moment, the Relentless maneuvered itself alongside her ship, looming large and casting a daunting shadow over her world. Peering over the edge of her cockpit, Zreini's eyes widened as she beheld a mammoth bay door slowly creaking open, revealing a glimpse into the depths of the unknown. However, before her curiosity could be sated, she was startled by resounding thudding sounds reverberating through the wounded hull of the Voidflyer; a vivid auditory reminder of her predicament. In a matter of moments she found herself being inexorably drawn towards the embrace of the gargantuan Relentless.
The sensation of gravity returning to her body was comforting as she came under the sway of the Relentless’ gravity generators. The flood of bay lights cut through the darkness like beacons, illuminating the once-desolate interior of the cockpit and exposing a bustling hive of activity within the bay. Zreini swiftly deduced that her unintended collision with the Relentless had triggered an alarm within its crew, setting in motion their rescue efforts. Without delay or fanfare, the distorted remnants of the Voidflyer were delicately lowered onto the solid floor of the bay; an act of careful precision amid the tumultuous events unfolding.
Zreini gingerly unstrapped herself from her seat, a jolt of pain coursing through her as she realized that something was painfully broken. Waves of discomfort radiated from her ribcage, making it excruciating to take even the slightest breath, while her right leg throbbed mercilessly, rendering it unable to bear any weight. Determined to escape her crippled vessel, she mustered all the strength she could find and stumbled towards the airlock. Summoning the last vestiges of her energy, Zreini desperately pulled off a side panel, revealing the emergency locks securing the doors. With trembling fingers, she released them, the clunking sound echoing in the confined space. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Zreini exerted what little force she could muster to push open the inner door.
The dank air of the airlock greeted her as she did the same with the outer door, its resistance ultimately giving way to a pneumatic hiss. Peering into the expansive bay beyond, Zreini's eyes widened at the sight that met her gaze. A group of humans, clad in formidable armored spacesuits, stood before her, their weapons ominously trained on her battered form. A rush of adrenaline coiled within her, propelling her senses to heightened alertness. Just as panic threatened to consume her, a voice pierced through the tense silence, commanding the armed human contingent to stand down. Instantly obeying the authoritative command, they lowered their weapons, revealing a glimmer of hope within Zreini's battered soul. Yet, before she could extend her gratitude or even gather her thoughts coherently, Zreini succumbed to the relentless darkness tugging at the edges of her consciousness. Her frail form succumbed to the physical and emotional trauma, surrendering to oblivion.
submitted by Yeania_aeon to HFY [link] [comments]
Atodine Space Academy, West Wing
Zrieri made her way down the academy hallway. The feathers around her neck were ruffled with annoyance. It was bad enough for a student to show up late for class, but for a professor it was even worse. Still, it was unavoidable given the situation. Zrieri paused to smooth down her feathers before entering the classroom. The chattering between the students quickly fell off as she walked into the room. Zrieri walked with purpose to the podium in front of the class.
“My apologies for my tardiness.” Zrieri said after switching the large display behind her from idle to the presentation file she had prepared. “Let us begin with today’s lesson.”
The Rachanit, an advanced spacefaring species, marked the first contact between the Atodine people and an alien civilization. These insectoid beings, despite their initially unsettling appearance, exuded an apparent friendliness that led to a request for trade and the establishment of an embassy on Atodine Prime. Though the leaders initially hesitated, they eventually consented, allowing the Rachanits to settle into an embassy with minimal disruption. However, as time progressed, a chilling realization began to seep through the cracks of diplomatic pretense.
People began mysteriously disappearing in the vicinity of the Rachanit embassy, prompting suspicions of foul play. These suspicions were confirmed when a civilian inadvertently stumbled upon undeniable evidence of the Rachanits' true nature as a carnivorous species. It became abundantly clear that the embassy had served as a sinister testing ground for assessing their efficacy at hunting and consuming Atodine flesh.
Shortly after this alarming discovery, the Rachanits discarded any lingering pretense and declared a full-blown war against us. In the face of this unforeseen aggression, the Atodine were thrust into a protracted and grueling defensive battle. However, throughout the course of this conflict, a glimmer of hope emerged.
The Atodine, tenacious and resourceful, managed to acquire first hand knowledge of the Rachanits' spacecraft technology. Each skirmish and engagement became an invaluable lesson in the art of combating these formidable adversaries. Despite the odds stacked against them, the Atodine successfully repelled the Rachanits' attacks, preventing them from reaching their vulnerable homeworld.
An unintended consequence of their resistance would prove enlightening, if somewhat terrifying. Upon salvaging the wreckage of Rachanit spacecraft, it became apparent that their empire sprawled across vast reaches of space, far eclipsing anything the Atodine could fathom. The asymmetry in size and power was stunningly conspicuous, rendering the Atodine acutely aware of the inevitable disparity they faced.
Nevertheless, the Rachanits remained unwavering in their singular focus: the utter annihilation of Atodine fleets. It was unmistakable that their intent was to obliterate any possibility of retaliation or counterattack. The Atodine, fully cognizant of their limitations, dedicated themselves to fortifying their defenses with renewed fervor, continually refining their strategies and capabilities.
At the heart of this epic cosmic struggle laid Atodine Prime, the cherished nest world of the Atodines. Suspended in the delicate balance between preservation and potential devastation, it has become both a symbol and a stronghold where the fate of an entire civilization hung in the balance. The echoes of battle reverberated through its valleys and mountains, its cities, and countryside, as the Atodine brace themselves against the relentless onslaught of their enigmatic and carnivorous foe.
After meticulously sifting through an extensive array of data harvested from numerous Rachanit ship databases, a comprehensive star map has emerged, painting a detailed picture of the systems strategically occupied by these enigmatic beings and the array of species they subjugated under their oppressive rule. Amidst the disturbing revelations, one unsettling discovery stood out among all others; the de-sentience and complete objectification of certain species that were tragically reduced to nothing more than mere livestock, subjected to unimaginable suffering and exploitation at the hands of their Rachanit overlords.
However, the latest influx of information procured directly from the Rachanits themselves shed light on particular systems that starkly diverged from their controlled territories. These exceptional star systems were distinctly demarcated as a desolate dead zone, an eerie aberration within the otherwise vast web of domains firmly under Rachanit control.
The absence of their iron grip in this particular region raised eyebrows among the Atodine research team, prompting a flurry of questions and stirring curiosity about the secrets it may hold. Why were these particular systems omitted from the domineering reach of the Rachanits? What significance did it hold in the grand tapestry of their galactic conquest? Such queries fueled the Atodine determination to dig deeper into this enigmatic anomaly, propelling us further into uncharted territory where answers awaited our unwavering investigation.
Atodine Orbital Station, Hangar 3
“This is the ship?” Zrieri's concern was evident in her voice as she confronted the chief scientist about the makeshift spacecraft.
With a mix of curiosity and skepticism, she questioned whether this mixture of Rachanit scrap and their own technology would truly suffice for the journey to the Dead Zone. As Zrieri ran her feathered hands across the hull, one couldn't help but sense her apprehension. Krenuk, the lead researcher, was slightly irritated by Zrieri's doubt, puffed up his feathers in annoyance before responding.
“I assure you, the ship is completely space worthy. Yes there has been extensive use of recycled materials, but do not doubt my personal expertise in shipbuilding.”
Zrieri chuckled at his indignation, but bowed slightly in apology.
“This ship is not just a crude amalgamation of resources.” Krenuk continued. “It is a carefully crafted vessel. What's more, it is equipped with a functioning faster than light, or FTL drive.”
Zrieri looked back to the ship. “I wasn’t aware we had finally unlocked that secret from the Rachanit.”
The chief scientist shifted his stance. “We have come to an understanding of the underlying fundamentals of FTL travel. In this case, however, the ship is utilizing a drive salvaged from a Rachanit craft. We are hopeful with the maiden flight to gather enough data to construct our own FTL drives moving forward.” Krenuk's expression turned grave. “This is, however, more than just a test flight. The purpose of venturing into this so-called Dead Zone is to unravel the mystery surrounding it.” He smoothed down the feathers around his neck before continuing. “The Rachanits, either out of fear or some deliberate choice, avoid this area altogether. It’s crucial to investigate why.”
“Do we know anything at all about this area of space other than the Rachanit avoid it like an irradiated wasteland?”
“The truth is, our knowledge of this system is limited beyond major celestial bodies. The dead zone has remained shrouded in enigma despite our attempts to probe the area.”
“Thus, the decision to construct the spacecraft using any salvageable materials we could find.”
“We are making do with what we have. Materials are scarce with the war effort and the loss of most of our off-world resources.” Krenuk folded his feathered hands behind his back. “At the very least, it’s a more robust vehicle than our first star-fliers boarded to enter space.”
Zrieri was raised as a chick on the stories of the early star-fliers. It was part of the reason she had joined the Starcorps. Zrieri was also aware that not all of those brave pathfinders returned home to Atodine Prime. She realized she was now taking the same kind of risks as her predecessors, not simply for knowledge and technological advancement, but to save her people.
“I just hope that this improbable combination of Rachanit scrap and our own technology will get us the answers we need.” she said, gently patting the hull of the ship. “So, what is the ship’s name?”
***
Three hours later the experimental craft, freshy christened Voidflyer, lifted out the hangar bay and made its first flight into space.
Zrieri worked through the controls making sure everything was in working order. She could trust the main proposition systems at least. The station crew had stocked up Voidflyer with plenty of supplies, enough to last her months out in space if necessary. Zrieri meticulously performed her routine checks on the myriad of controls in the cockpit. She was familiar with the controls as it had been ripped right out of a VF-70, the Atodine main-line fighter craft. With her checks complete, Zrieri reached out to command to request the necessary clearance for her imminent departure.
All systems seemed to be functioning optimally, or at least all of the systems that originated from her own civilization. Something was wrong with the FTL navigation system. Zrieri was puzzled by the unexpected errors that began to populate the display screen after entering the coordinates. Her curiosity was further peaked when she realized that the information was being presented in the intricate and alien Rachanit script. The computer was supposed to translate any information into the Atodine language, yet for some reason the error messages seemed to be bypassing the translation subsystems. She was completely unfamiliar with Rachanit, meaning she couldn’t easily diagnose whatever the problem was.
That didn’t mean she was about to give up. The determined pilot carefully retrieved the dataslate of documents Krenuk had provided earlier. Leafing through them diligently, she sought to extract any useful insights that might shed light on this perplexing predicament. Each line and every cryptic symbol on those ancient pages demanded her complete attention and scrutiny. Guided by a resolute spirit, Zrieri cautiously maneuvered through the constrained confines of the spacecraft, making her way towards the heart of its technological prowess, the FTL drive.
A testament to Atodine ingenuity, this intricate piece of alien machinery was somehow interfaced with their own spacefaring technology. It was far from a simple hack-job, but it was obvious a lot of improvising had been done in the integration of disparate technologies. But beyond the integration into the Voidflyer, There was an entire custom built monitoring system added on to observe it in action and gather as much data as possible. It held the key to hyper-dimensional travel capabilities for the Atodine civilization.
With utmost care, she unscrewed a side panel from its sturdy casing. Zrieri was aware how rarely any drive system survived the destruction of the ship it was housed in. The fact the FTL drive had been recovered intact was almost enough to make the Atodine thank the long abandoned gods of her people, because it was a miracle. After exposing the complex network of circuitry and delicate crystalline cards that lay within, Zrieri placed a data slate adjacent to the humming drive.
She concentrated her focused gaze upon each of the crystalline cards, meticulously examining their arrangement and configuration. Taking solace in Krenuk's meticulous notes that he had shared, which documented his extensive research on the craft's inner workings, Zrieri embarked on an arduous task of ascertaining the precise function of each card and testing them. Weighing each possibility with both caution and precision, she soon encountered one card that baffled even the seasoned researcher.
Summoning her audacity and expertise, Zrieri delicately removed this enigmatic card from its designated slot. Strangely, this caused no obvious change in the gentle humming of the drive. She ran a diagnostic, or at least that’s what the program was labeled as. According to Krenuk's notes, the readouts indicated the drive was in working order.
The Rachanit went as far as to put a lock-out chip in the drive itself to keep away from the Dead Zone. I wonder, is it because of some kind of suicidal curiosity in their warriors, or is it really that dangerous?
Zrieri pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind as she closed the access panel. She placed the crystalline card into a padded box and stored it in a nearby equipment locker before retreating back to the familiar comfort of her seat. Zrieri’s feathered hands flowed over the control console, preparing the ship once more for the jump to FTL. She cautiously reentered the complex matrix of coordinates that would lead them to the elusive enemy-free expanse of space.
Before hitting the final conformation, Zrieri looked out at her home of Atodine Prime, then out into the starry void. She thought back to Janaria , the first Atodine to enter space, whose pod ultimately did not survive reentry. Now Zrieri found herself about to take the same kind of risk.
One way or another, I’ll be joining you in the history files, Janaria. Zrieri reached out and engaged the FTL drive.
This time, to her immense relief and satisfaction, the powerful FTL drive seamlessly spooled up, producing a mesmerizing cascade of energy that gracefully enveloped the small craft. With a surge of anticipation, Zrieri expertly guided her vessel through the dazzling vortices of swirling cosmic energies, initiating the seamless transition into the space fold. As the ship disappeared into the rippling fabric of the universe, an exhilarating wave of accomplishment washed over Zrieri.
Was this what it felt like when Janaria first pushed past the atmosphere and looked down on Atodine Prime? She wondered.
Dead Zone, System 001
The Voidflyer emerged from Hyperspace, only to be greeted with the sudden blare of the proximity alarm. The klaxon reverberated through the cockpit, causing Zrieri's heart to lurch. Her instincts kicked in immediately, the adrenaline-fueled surge urging her into swift action. Looking at the main screen, she found herself face to face with a colossal object, ominously positioned right at her Hyperspace lane exit point. A collision seemed inevitable, a disaster looming on the horizon. However, Zrieri was chosen for this mission for a reason. Her years of piloting experience and natural dexterity came to the fore as she deftly maneuvered the ship, skillfully navigating her way around the massive obstacle. With mere centimeters to spare, she managed to avert catastrophe, her pulse still racing with the close call.
But little did she know that the challenge was far from over. As she glided further through the cosmic expanse, her sensors pinged multiple objects all in close proximity to her small ship. This time, Zrieri knew she couldn't rely solely on her reflexes and luck to navigate what had to be a debris field. Instead she had to execute precise calculations and strategic movements to avoid a potentially devastating impact. Mid-action, countless variables raced through her mind as Zrieri quickly mapped out a course, but didn’t have time for the computer to double check it. She carefully dodged and weaved through the treacherous path, desperately seeking a clear passage to safety. Finally, Zrieri managed to break free from the seemingly endless maze of debris that had been her welcoming committee.
Zrieri took a moment to collect herself, before gently guiding the ship away from the wreckage. This allowed her to survey the scene with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. A thorough scan followed, revealing a disconcerting sight. Much of the shattered fragments and twisted metal matched the unmistakable signature of Rachanit ships. The distinctive marks and faded insignias were evident, signifying the remnants of what must have once been a formidable fleet. However, some of the debris appeared significantly older, betraying the passage of time and hinting at past encounters. It was as though Zrieri had stumbled upon a graveyard of battles long forgotten.
Yet, amidst the mangled wreckage of Rachanit derelicts, the scan brought forth an unsettling revelation. Interspersed among their battered Rachanit ships, were vessels of an entirely unknown origin. Even in their destroyed state, these unidentified ships possessed an air of mystique and promise. Unlike their counterparts, they seemed remarkably intact, their hulls still retaining a semblance of functionality. They were enigmas within the chaos, adding an extra layer of intrigue to the already intricate tapestry of cosmic intrigue that enshrouded Zrieri's surroundings.
With a careful hand, Zrieri adjusted the heading of her vessel. She maneuvered the sleek and agile Voidflyer back into the sprawling debris field, if at a much reduced velocity. Her desire for a closer examination of the mysterious unknown derelicts overwhelmed her, urging her to explore the unknown. As Zrieri drew closer, she flicked a switch, activating the floodlights that adorned the exterior of the Voindflyer. The resulting luminosity revealed a distinctively boxy design amidst the dilapidated wreckage, catching her attention instantly.
However, it was not just the peculiar shape that captured Zrieri's focus; it was a symbol etched onto the hull that truly intrigued her. It depicted a blue sphere covered with equally vibrant green shapes, all of which was accentuated by bold and striking white markings. Puzzled, Zrieri directed her scrutiny towards the battered and scored black hull, contemplating its origins and purpose. Seeking answers, she turned her gaze towards the consoles of the Voidflyer, hoping that her ship's computer could assist her in uncovering the enigmatic text adorning the derelict.
To her surprise, the ship's computer managed to decipher and translate the cryptic message emblazoned on the hull, revealing two significant pieces of information. First, the text read "UNSD Providence," a name that indicated the derelict was once a formidable heavy cruiser. Fascinated by this unexpected revelation, Zrieri felt her curiosity deepen even further. Delving into her thoughts, she contemplated the implications of discovering a seemingly abandoned spaceship amidst the wreckage-filled void.
Despite her enthusiasm, a hint of caution tinged Zrieri's decisions as she carefully piloted the Voidflyer closer to the drifting hulk. Her gaze fixed upon what appeared to be a docking port, offering a potential connection point between the two vessels. However, her uncertainty regarding the compatibility of the Voidflyer's own docking port with that of the Providence caused a momentary hesitation to grip her. The last thing she desired was to initiate a risky and potentially hazardous docking process. Yet, as Zrieri observed the Providence more attentively, she noticed an intriguing detail — the seemingly dormant vessel still retained a glimmer of power. This revelation sparked a flicker of hope within her adventurous spirit. Against her initial reservations, Zrieri's gaze fixated upon the extended docking port of the Providence, reaching out as if inviting the Voidflyer to establish a connection. The juxtaposition of uncertainty and possibility warred within her as she weighed the risks and rewards, ultimately poised to make a daring decision that could potentially reshape her journey.
As Zrieri expertly maneuvered the sleek Voidflyer closer to the Providence docking port, her eyes widened with surprise as she noticed that the aliens' docking mechanism perfectly aligned with her ship's. It was a rare stroke of luck amidst the inhospitable reaches of space. Strapping on her trusty space suit and securing her helmet, she prepared herself for the treacherous journey ahead. With a resolute determination, Zrieri made her way towards the airlock, the gateway into the unidentified vessel. As she stepped inside the airlock, her eyes immediately fixed upon the readout, which displayed alarming details. Multiple breaches in the hull of the Providence had resulted in a vacuum and complete absence of gravity within its confines. However given how long the derelict had been adrift neither condition was altogether surprising.
A sense of inconvenience filled the air, as Zrieri grumbled to herself about her distaste for weightlessness while deftly cycling the airlock. She remembered how unpleasant that part of her training had been at the academy. The airlock opened, revealing a disconcerting spectacle before her. The interior of the ship was shrouded in blinking red emergency lighting, amplifying the eerie atmosphere that enveloped her. The fact that there was still reserve power left spoke volumes of the ship design. Uncertain of the path that lay ahead, Zrieri cautiously embarked upon the red-lit corridor, her senses heightened with each tentative step of her gravtalons.
Along her journey through the labyrinthine passageway, she encountered various rooms, some preserved in a state of integrity while others ominously opened up to the unforgiving empty void of space. Each room silently bearing witness to the mysterious events that had unfolded within the bowels of the derelict vessel. Finally, reaching the end of the corridor, Zrieri's keen eyes caught sight of a vertical shaft ascending above her. An upward path beckoned her, promising a potential answer to the enigmatic depths of the ship.
Caution prevailing over curiosity, Zrieri meticulously marked her previous locations, ensuring that she wouldn't succumb to the disorienting expanse of this forsaken place. Her determination echoed through the corridor as she muttered to herself, vowing not to lose her way amidst this derelict maze. She turned off her gravtalons and began to ascend the shaft with a blend of nimbleness and concentration.
Zrieri eventually reached the pinnacle, only to be confronted by a formidable pair of sealed doors. A glimmer of frustration danced across her features as she tirelessly attempted to budge them, employing every ounce of her strength. Yet, fate seemed to conspire against her, refusing to grant access to the secrets that lay beyond those imposing barriers. Undeterred by this setback, resolve surged through her being as she descended back down the shaft, propelled by an unwavering determination to discover a tool that could pry open those obstinate doors.
Zreini retraced her steps down the cold, dimly lit shaft, her mind focused on finding a solution to the sealed doors blocking her path. Every step echoed against the metallic walls as she scanned her surroundings, desperately seeking an object that could serve as a makeshift pry bar. After what felt like an eternity, her eyes caught a glimmer of hope, a long piece of metal hidden among the debris. Without hesitation, she snatched it up, feeling the weight and sturdiness it held. Ascending the shaft once again, Zreini's determination grew as she approached the sealed doors.
With a determined expression, she inserted the metal bar between the unforgiving panels, channeling every ounce of her strength into prying them apart. The doors resisted stubbornly, as if mocking her efforts.
Frustration bubbling inside her, she muttered aloud, "Stubborn doors!" her words swallowed by the vast emptiness of the ship's corridors.
Yet, Zreini refused to yield. Summoning her resolve, she persisted, pouring all her energy into forcing the doors open. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of exertion, the doors relented, reluctantly sliding apart. Yet, victory came at a price. Caught off guard by their sudden movement, Zreini stumbled, crashing into the cold bulkhead opposite the opening. The impact sent the metal bar flying in the opposite direction, clattering noiselessly as it bounced against the floor and out into the void.
Ignoring the ache in her shoulder and the taste of defeat lingering in her beak, Zreini straightened herself, reaching up to adjust her helmet. Her gaze fixed upon the widened door opening, curiosity mingling with anticipation as she peered into the darkness beyond. It didn't take long for realization to dawn upon her. She had discovered the bridge of the Providence, or rather, what was left of it. The telltale signs of Rachanit weaponry ravaged the room, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation.
Undeterred by the destruction, Zreini carefully maneuvered her way into the bridge. Her eyes scanned the remnants of what once was a bustling hub of activity, finally settling on the raised seat at its center. There, she found the remains of the Providence's captain, preserved in his breached spacesuit, desiccated but in-tact. The space mummy was still strapped into the seat. A sense of melancholy washed over her, dying to the void was a fear in every spacer’s heart. At the same time, she felt a sense of awe at the silent dedication displayed by the fallen leader, standing watch eternally as his ship drifted.
Approaching the seat with reverence, Zreini examined the captain's final resting place. Despite her eagerness to gather information, she vowed to disturb the scene as little as possible. Zreini had no clue what this species’ burial rites were, but she wanted to show nothing but respect to the fallen spacer. With delicate movements, she gently pushed the captain's arm aside, revealing a functioning screen nestled in the seat's armrest. The ship's mainframe was still functioning, at least somewhat. The last remnants of the Providence's technological spirit flickered on the screen.
Without wasting another moment, Zreini retrieved her scanner, her nimble fingers deftly navigating its interface. Its soft blue light illuminated her face as she aimed it towards the mainframe, hoping to extract any fragment of valuable information, a lifeline of knowledge hidden within the ship's core. To her surprise and relief, the scanner successfully retrieved an abundance of data, promising a glimpse into the Providence's secrets and history.
As Zreini meticulously sifted through the retrieved information, her gaze inadvertently wandered to the badge adorning the captain's chest area. Illuminated by the flickering lights, the insignia held a profound significance. She directed her scanner towards it, her curiosity demanding answers. In an instant, the translation software swiftly deciphered the inscription etched upon the badge: "Rory Parks, Commanding Officer, UNSD Providence."
The discovery sent a shiver down her spine. Names became more than mere words or titles. They embodied lives, stories, and sacrifices. Zreini couldn't help but wonder about the brave souls who once inhabited this ship, each with their own tale, now buried deep within its steel and circuitry. Motivated by preservation and a duty to honor those who came before, she transmitted the gathered data to the Voidflyers' computer, ensuring that the legacy of the UNSD Providence would not fade into oblivion.
Zreini, her expression somber and contemplative, crossed her arms as she slowly lowered herself down in front of the fallen commander. Her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy, she spoke in a hushed yet confident voice, addressing Commander Rory Parker.
"I must admit, dear Commander, that I haven't had the opportunity to encounter your kind or, indeed, any being quite like you before," Zreini's voice carried an air of respect and reverence, as she acknowledged the uniqueness of their encounter. "But now, in this moment, fate has brought us together. From this void, you shall watch over and protect your people, forever enshrined in their collective memory, Commander Rory Parker."
With these words of farewell hanging in the air, Zreini gracefully rose from her bowed position and set off towards her trusted Voidflyer. As she made her way back, there was an uncanny synchronicity to the scene that unfolded before her. It appeared as though the UNSD Providence, the massive spacecraft that had been her destination, had been awaiting her visit. Its presence was a testament to the peculiarities of the universe, always finding ways to manifest remarkable coincidences. However, it was at this very moment, upon entering the airlock, that a disconcerting disruption shattered the tranquility.
The emergency lighting within the vessel flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows and sending shivers down Zreini's spine. A surge of anticipation coursed through her veins, hinting at something extraordinary about to unfold. Outside the confines of the airlock, Zreini's eyes widened with disbelieving awe. It seemed as though Commander Rory Parker himself stood summing near, his ghostly figure illuminated by the tumultuous illumination of the faltering emergency lights. In a poetic gesture, he raised his arm in a quiet salute, characterizing a final farewell before the lighting altogether faded into darkness, leaving Zreini alone in her bewilderment.
Startled and perplexed by what she had just witnessed, Zreini reached for her trusty light, the beam of its illumination slicing through the pervasive darkness. She meticulously scanned her surroundings, eager to uncover any trace of the enigmatic Commander Rory. But alas, there was nothingness. No signs, no traces; simply an impenetrable void. Craving answers, doubts began to swirl within her mind like a chaotic maelstrom. She checked her life support systems for any issues, but they came back all green. Was she just tired, or was it something more?
"What was that…apparition? Was it just my imagination, or was it actually the fleeting specter of the departed commander?" Zreini questioned herself amid the solitude of the airlock.
The implications of such an encounter with the ethereal world sent shivers down her spine, making her question the boundaries of reality itself. One thing she was sure of, there would be no mention of it in her report. Gathering her wits and wrestling her emotions under control, Zreini closed the airlock behind her, sealing off the mysteries that lay beyond. Stepping back into the familiar confines of her ship, she activated the cycle sequence, disconnecting from the Providence.
Slowly but surely, the Voidflyer broke free from the gravitational grip of the human vessel, propelling itself out carefully from the debris field. After the ship was safely out of any immediate danger, Zrieri engaged with the data she had meticulously gathered from the ship. She knew now the race called themselves humans and they originated on the third planet of this very system. Zreini's star charts underwent a transformation. The seamless integration of the acquired information initiated an update, revealing new cosmic coordinates within the vast tapestry of the universe.
And then, facilitated by the translation software, an unexpected revelation emerged, a message intended for the Providence, concealed amidst the data. Anchored to the coordinates that had materialized before her, a message finally unraveled, demanding her attention.
"Earth has fallen, fall back to Alpha Centauri."
The words struck at the core of Zreini's being, triggering a surge of empathy and concern. She turned her ship's sensors towards the third planet of the system. Even with the horrors of the war with the Rachanit fresh in her mind, Zrieri was not ready for what she saw. The planet was destroyed, Not just glassed from an orbital bombardment, the planet had been cracked in two, all the way to its core. Earth’s once life-giving atmosphere had been stripped away by the solar winds of its own star when its magnetic field collapsed.
“Monsters…” Zrieri whispered. With clenched fists and a resolute expression, Zreini punched in the coded star system coordinates, her voice filled with a measured determination. "I pray that this Alpha Centauri still exists, that something remains of these people! The universe needs some measure of hope at least."
Zrieri was well aware that the message she had unveiled was distressingly dated, possibly an echo from a bygone era. But it didn’t matter, she needed to know. Without hesitation, driven by the yearning for answers and the spark of hope, Zreini once again activated the FTL drive, plunging herself and her vessel into the abyssal depths of interstellar travel. The destination lay before her, shrouded in mystery
Dead Zone, System 002 (Alpha Centauri)
As the Voidflyer hurtled through hyper-dimensional space, its sophisticated translation software strained to piece together a comprehensive Lexicon from the fragments of data Zreini had managed to extract from the human spaceship. Nonetheless, before the system could complete its task, Zreini's attention was abruptly yanked away by the blaring of the proximity alarm at the hyperlane exit, signaling a looming threat.
“Not again!” she chirped as she took hold of the controls tightly.
An immense and ominous presence awaited her, and Zreini instinctively exerted all her strength, desperately maneuvering to dodge the colossal object. Even with the maneuverability of the Voidflyer and her own skill and experience, an inevitable disaster struck with full force. The Voidflyer collided with the object, scraping along her underside. Alarms and claxons rang in Zrieri’s ears before her head collided with her console, plunging her into unconsciousness.
***
When Zreini finally regained consciousness and surveyed her surroundings, she was met with a bewildering revelation: she was miraculously alive.
“I guess I won’t be meeting Janaria today after all.” She muttered as she rubbed her forehead gently.
However, the same fate could not be claimed for the crippled Voidflyer, which now lay dormant and powerless in the enshrouding darkness of the cockpit. There were numerous hull breaches, but the cockpit was still fully pressurized. Emergency power was keeping the life support systems online for the time being, but every other system seemed to be offline. Peering through the cockpit windows, her gaze fell upon a disheartening sight; a trail of coolant and vapors spiraling from her damaged vessel.
And there, in stark defiance against the backdrop of the cold celestial abyss, loomed the cause of her misfortune: an enormous, angular, obsidian ship. Its design bore a striking resemblance to that of the UNSD Providence, but what sent a shiver down Zreini's spine was the sight of the behemoth's menacing turrets trained directly upon her vulnerable craft. As if it would take more than one shot to vaporize the Voidflyer.
The implications of this encounter fueled a fearful realization within her; humanity still lingered in the cosmos. As Zreini intently studied the illuminated lettering adorning the side of the imposing vessel, She had been on smaller space stations than this singular ship. It was reminiscent in certain design elements to the Providence, and a sudden surge of urgency propelled her to hastily employ her scanner in an attempt to decipher the meaning. With bated breath, she witnessed the screen illuminate with its translation: "UNSD Relentless."
The humans were indeed present; evoking a maelstrom of emotions within her already frayed nerves. In that critical moment, the Relentless maneuvered itself alongside her ship, looming large and casting a daunting shadow over her world. Peering over the edge of her cockpit, Zreini's eyes widened as she beheld a mammoth bay door slowly creaking open, revealing a glimpse into the depths of the unknown. However, before her curiosity could be sated, she was startled by resounding thudding sounds reverberating through the wounded hull of the Voidflyer; a vivid auditory reminder of her predicament. In a matter of moments she found herself being inexorably drawn towards the embrace of the gargantuan Relentless.
The sensation of gravity returning to her body was comforting as she came under the sway of the Relentless’ gravity generators. The flood of bay lights cut through the darkness like beacons, illuminating the once-desolate interior of the cockpit and exposing a bustling hive of activity within the bay. Zreini swiftly deduced that her unintended collision with the Relentless had triggered an alarm within its crew, setting in motion their rescue efforts. Without delay or fanfare, the distorted remnants of the Voidflyer were delicately lowered onto the solid floor of the bay; an act of careful precision amid the tumultuous events unfolding.
Zreini gingerly unstrapped herself from her seat, a jolt of pain coursing through her as she realized that something was painfully broken. Waves of discomfort radiated from her ribcage, making it excruciating to take even the slightest breath, while her right leg throbbed mercilessly, rendering it unable to bear any weight. Determined to escape her crippled vessel, she mustered all the strength she could find and stumbled towards the airlock. Summoning the last vestiges of her energy, Zreini desperately pulled off a side panel, revealing the emergency locks securing the doors. With trembling fingers, she released them, the clunking sound echoing in the confined space. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Zreini exerted what little force she could muster to push open the inner door.
The dank air of the airlock greeted her as she did the same with the outer door, its resistance ultimately giving way to a pneumatic hiss. Peering into the expansive bay beyond, Zreini's eyes widened at the sight that met her gaze. A group of humans, clad in formidable armored spacesuits, stood before her, their weapons ominously trained on her battered form. A rush of adrenaline coiled within her, propelling her senses to heightened alertness. Just as panic threatened to consume her, a voice pierced through the tense silence, commanding the armed human contingent to stand down. Instantly obeying the authoritative command, they lowered their weapons, revealing a glimmer of hope within Zreini's battered soul. Yet, before she could extend her gratitude or even gather her thoughts coherently, Zreini succumbed to the relentless darkness tugging at the edges of her consciousness. Her frail form succumbed to the physical and emotional trauma, surrendering to oblivion.
2024.05.08 02:00 AutoModerator NEW PLAYERS COME HERE! - Weekly Questions and Information thread - May 08, 2024
Downloads
Stable - Gaiman (Recommended)
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsExperimental (Not recommended)
Automated Installation
Catapult Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)CDDA Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)
Manual Installation
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsiOS
Compiling Guide
Controls (not up to date, controls for mobile can vary)
Helpful Guides
- Item Database
- Skill Training (Siersha - up to date for build #10626)
- Modding
- Detailed Guide (mlangsdorf)
- Quickstart Guide (DracoGriffin & AMurkin)
- Improved Text Readability (Bilb0)
- Tutorials
- Video Guide (Vormithrax)
- More Video Guide (GrandpuhTy)
- Written Guide (Pr0manTwitch)
Featured Let's Players
Individuals that are currently known for playing C:DDA. List is subject to change (maintain active and current streamers), send modmail if you'd like to be added.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
|---|---|---|
| Vormithrax | Link | Link |
| TheMurderUnicorn | Link | Link |
| TheCritsyBear | Link | Link |
| RyconRoleplays | None | Link |
| Orange01gaming | None | Link |
| nonsonogiucas | None | Link |
| GrandpuhTy | Link | Link |
Memorial
Individuals that used to play C:DDA but have gone on hiatus or stopped streaming. These are mentioned here as requested by the community for being noteworthy.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
|---|---|---|
| flakaby | Link | None |
| Pr0manTwitch | Link | None |
| CromulentArcher | None | Link |
Semi-Multiplayer - WatchCDDA.net
WatchCDDA.net is hosted by r7st and allows for semi-multiplayer ASCII version of Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead. It can be a bit confusing to get started so make sure you check out the Instructions page for more details and join that Discord to communicate while playing. Any issues need to be expressed on WatchCDDA's Discord, not the subreddit - any troubleshooting posts will be removed.- Requirements:
- WatchCDDA.net Account (set up is on Instructions page)
- SSH client (like PuTTY)
- Willingness to use ASCII (no tilesets yet)
FAQ
- How do I use this subreddit?
- Flairs? What are those?
Changelog - these posts have very informative posts regarding changes.
Fixed - these posts generally have a solution to a bug or problem.
Lastly, if you flair a post [Help Wanted] and someone answered satisfactorily, make sure to re-flair it with [Solved] so others can find the solution instead of looking through tons of posts.
- Oh no, my anti-virus says the launcher is a threat!
If you are paranoid, you can always inspect the source code yourself and build the launcher from the source code. However, you are still likely to get false positives.
- The UI is broken or weird, is this normal?
- I think the subreddit should have ... or The subreddit should change ...
2024.05.06 17:25 Chimera_Tracker They bit me!
The universe is a really big place. Though it is believed to be infinite, the resources within it, however, are not...
According to the basic rules of commerce, depending on the availability of a particular resource at any given moment, its value can range from 'I'll pay you to take it' to 'I'll take both your arms, and your legs, and maybe your liver too'. Despite the advances in technology, one resource has never been successfully made more available through artificial means, resulting in the nature of the universe keeping its price at a premium. Every species owns at least one of this highly sought after resource in the form of their cradle world. To find an uninhabited world that is even mildly habitable, that can be lightly terraformed to suit one's preferences, is rare. It is more likely for one to discover a rift to an alternate reality than it is to happen across an unclaimed habitable world while exploring the universe.
Entire worlds have become commodities worth more than just the sum of the resources they contain. Emperors hold them up as prized jewels on their crown, trading the lives of millions within their populous for even a mildly habitable world located within the confines of another’s arbitrary defined territorial lines.
.
.
.
Location: Rift system connecting the Parsekian cluster to the newly accessible Orion cluster
On board the fleet ship Jonturas, Grand Admiral Hondach straightened himself out in the fleet admiral’s chair. Centered on the bridge with the captains chair moved behind and to the left of him, he was able to command the entire fleet from this position. Under his command was the entirety of the Ikarinan, his peoples, invasion fleet, the military ready fleet of the Fibulga Consortium and five war battalions along with two additional battalions for replacements. All recruited from territories he had a hand in annexing back home. They were all far from home, but every soul in the fleet knew the reason for their being here.
“We are in geosynchronous orbit Grand Admiral!” A soft squeak yells out across the room, drawing Hondachs’ attention to the largest viewscreen located on the bulkhead across from him. The myriad of smaller ones along its peripherals displayed important information such as troop counts, active squad vitals, the fleets loadout and even the lunch menu.
Hondach admires the view of the green and blue world they were currently in orbit of. A new habitable world for the taking after centuries without. The first of several hundred if the reports were accurate. Though he didn’t have any reason to doubt the surveyors, they’ve never been scandalized with bringing back false information.
“Put the system up on the main holographic display. Focus in on the planet. And can someone replace the lunch menu with a display of the status of our bio-ship.”
The displays would be updated to reflect his requests while the holographic projector descends from the ceiling. With an audible click as it locks into place, the space above everyone’s heads would light up in a spectacular spectral display of the entire system. Hondach would reach up and caress the tiny asteroids that whizzed by. He never got tired of the holographic system even after all these years. As he had requested, the view would shift such that the planet they orbited now hung just above his head. He reclines his seat, examining its splendor while taking note of the position of his fleet in orbit. Thin tendrils would reach out from his ships, slamming into the planets atmosphere, reflecting their selective orbital bombardment activities. They were few and far between, doing extremely focused devastation to not cause too much ecological damage. They wanted the planet after all, it would be a mistake to permanently damage its life supporting capabilities while eliminating the humans.
“Is the bioweapon ready for dispersal?”
“Bomber squadrons are prepped and entering low orbit sir. Ready for dispersal on your command”
Hondach stood up and took a step forward, approaching the southern pole of the planet as its display shifted overhead to compensate for his change in position. He reaches up to it, letting his fingers slip through the crust. The imagery shivering from their contact till he withdraws. Soon this world will be theirs, then the rest will follow.
“Cleanse”
With the uttering of that singular word, a multitude of points would appear across the face of the world, signifying the various distribution points for the bioweapon fashioned by his bio-ship.
With the realization that habitable worlds were a rarity in the universe, the nature of war had to change. There was no way around it. If an enemy decides to bunker themselves in, destroying the planet around them to claim it for yourself would be the same as stabbing yourself to sheathe a blade. You would be able to sheathe your blade sure, but you would also seriously injure yourself in the process. Destroying a world to kill an enemy would not only be pointless but would go against the very purpose of having waged war in the first place. As a result, new ways to fight had to be thought up, and besides falling back on the old vestige of using troops in large quantities, exotic methods of efficiently eliminating an enemy with minimal collateral damage had to be fashioned. One such method was the use of bioweapons that only targeted a specific genome structure.
Since the first human had been captured at the recently stabilized hyper link between the Parsekian and this once isolated cluster, the fleets bio-ship has been hard at work dismantling the human genome to formulate a quick death for them. The formulated bioweapon was then distributed to the carriers of his fleet and carefully loaded into their bomber squadrons for this moment.
Grand Admiral Hondach now watched as pockets of yellow fog blossomed from the various distribution points. The black specks of his bomber squadrons rise from the atmosphere, moving back to their mother ships as the fog envelopes the entire planet.
“What is the status of our troops on the surface?”
“No casualties reported since bioweapon dispersal. Observers are reporting full casualties on the human side. Fields of their soldiers lay dead sir.”
“Tell them to begin sweeping the corpses. Capture any survivors for our scientists. The corpses can be recovered for the bio ship.”
Hondach watched as his officers went about coordinating with the rest of the fleet and the armies on the surface to begin carrying out his tasks. Like a well-oiled machine, they’d strip the planet bare of its corpses and ready it for future colonization.
“Grand Admiral, Sir?”
Hondach turns to face the captain of the Jonturas, giving the stout female a nod to speak.
“We still haven’t deciphered a significant portion of the human DNA sir. Maybe we should be a little more cautious with our approach? We have the rift system now, it is under our control. None of our enemies will be able to slip by to lay claim on any of the other human worlds. The humans themselves have proven to be inferior to us technologically, there is no reason why we shouldn’t spend more time studying the abnormalities we uncovered.”
“A fair assessment Captain, but unfortunately, I do not wish to spend the rest of my life claiming one world at a time for our people. Our harvesters have scoured their entire genome structure and they have found no reason to be wary of what is yet to be deciphered. They believe most of it to be junk sequences according to their latest reports. Have you read it? No? Well I suggest you take the time to do so when you’re not too busy questioning my orders. I plan to secure my legacy with this campaign captain, do not let yourself be an obstacle, I can be a good friend for your career, or an unending nightmare.”
“Yes Admiral.” Captain Ompeck shakily nods, lowering her gaze in submission and support of her superiors orders before retreating to perform her duties.
Hondach glances back at the planet, examining the various points marked out for where troops were currently moving about on the planets surface. He clicks on one to bring up their feeds.
“Coms, patch me into this officer Lorte.”
-Down on the planets surface-
Lieutenant Lorte felt uneasy as he moved along the edge of the field. His entire company had been dropped off on this continental land mass near the equator. Each platoon having their own individualized mission, his being to secure the anchor point the humans had built for their incomplete orbital elevator. The populous here were made up of mostly engineers but they were an impressively innovative and tenacious bunch. The mechanized walking tank in his platoon bore the marks of that willful tenacity. Designed to survive a sub orbital landing without any protection whatsoever, it now had a gaping hole in its chassis where the humans had struck a blow. At least the fight didn’t last much longer after that once the bioweapon began enveloping the region.
As he paced the edge of the clearing where the humans had succumbed to the effects of the bioweapon, he notices a slight movement in the distance as a shadowy figure moved through the field of bodies and faded into the fog. For a moment, he thought he saw the figure holding on to a rather ancient farming instrument. Before he could investigate it any further, however, the Grand Admirals call signature appears across his HUD, sending a shiver down his spine.
“What is the status down there?” The Admirals voice greets him over his helmet's speakers.
“Greetings Grand Admiral, Sir. I think your coms officer must have patched you into the wrong interlink. This is lieutenant Lorte sir, not Captain Tobga. If you’d like I can get my coms officer to-“
“I contacted your platoon directly lieutenant Lorte. My coms officer didn’t get it wrong. Now, please update me on the situation on the surface as I’ve requested.”
“Ye-yes sir. Uhh..The enemy is no longer a threat sir. The bioweapon did its trick. They all fell down like flies clawing at their throats-“
“Yes yes. I do not need to hear the details of their ‘valiant’ struggles. I honestly just wanted to know if they’re all dead and if we can send down the scavengers to pick up the corpses.”
“They should be sir. I mean, I think I saw some movement but-“
“Movement? Our scanners are picking up nothing other than the life signs of our soldiers. Can you confirm that you saw movement?”
“No sir, I cannot. It might have been just an illusion. The light coming through the fog is rather distorted.”
Lorte regretted even thinking of mentioning what he thought he saw as soon as he heard the Grand Admiral let loose a long sigh over the coms. He gritted his molars, waiting for his commission to be rescinded.
“Take your platoon out across the clearing to meet up with the others of your company. We are reading their heat signatures north of your position. Get your soldiers to check the human bodies for any signs of life. Use your hands to find a pulse if you have to. I do not want any survivors to slip by unnoticed. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I do. I will make -click- uhh..hello? Grand Admiral? Sir?” Lorte glances over at his coms officer who shrugs sheepishly back at him. He groans, shaking his head as he begins relaying their new orders, herding his platoon out across the field and into the thick yellow fog.
As he began moving across the field, his men and women would begin firing out randomly as they spotted movements. Every moving shadow drew bursts of fire before silence washes over them once again. It was nerve wrecking, but the situation only grew worse as wind blows through, sweeping the fog aside to reveal a small contingent of humans still standing. Their hungry eyes starring back at them as their lips pull back to reveal teeth stained blue. All it took was the snap of someone stepping on dried vegetation for things to be thrown into a sudden frenzy.
-Back on the Jonturas-
Grand Admiral Hondach glances over towards the large screens where the fleets stats were being displayed. He notices a group of his bridge officers scurrying to one of the terminals as the bio-signs of several soldiers on the planet began to show problems.
“What is going on?” He queries loudly as he steps in their general direction.
“Several troopers are encountering weird phenomenon down on the surface sir” One of the officers replies as she turns around. She waves off the junior officer manning the terminal nearby, motioning them away as she transfers her terminal from her previous station to her current one.
“They are reporting bio-scanners supplying false life signs. Showing supposed neural activity in bodies long dead from the bioweapon. Medics are finding no physical life signs and commanders have taken upon themselves to shoot any bodies still showing life signs on scanners. But even still the scanners are showing sporadic signatures that can’t be identified. I am trying to get our low orbital ships to double check the readings using their sensors but that might take a little while sir.”
Hondach says nothing, nodding along to the assessment. He was amazed with the young officers initiative, taking special note to bring her up on commendations at a later date. If she showed sufficient promise, he might even see to getting her a command of her own. Who knows, maybe Captain Ompeck could be convinced to step aside before they move further into human territories. Hondach comes out of his daydream as he notices the officer and a few of her compatriots looking at him. He quickly waves his hand and nods “Continue. Your plan sounds…good.”
“Thank you…sir.”
As the officers turned their attention back to their terminals, a junior officer across the room calls out frantically.
“Sirs! Company Twelve is under attack from humans!”
“How many?”
“Unknown sir! It seems the bioweapon didn’t have any effect on any of them within the region. They just started waking up and began attacking-“
“Company fifty two is reporting a similar situation sirs!” Another voice yells out from the other end of the room.
Hondach watches as the bridge slowly erupts into a frenzy of yelling voices and growing disarray as conflicting information is being relayed around. He glances up at the world hovering above his head, watching dozens of pop up alerts begin colouring its surface as reports continued to flood in of the humans sudden reprisal. It seems his scientists might have gotten it wrong with their design of the bioweapon.
“Sirs I’ve got reports of weapons being ineffective-“
“Losses along the northern most continent are rising, we are loosing our foothold at point-“
“We just lost a shuttle craft along the-“
“Bio-scanners can’t pick up-“
“-life signs are growing erratic-“
“-movement reported at-“
“SIR!”
Hondach turns around just in time to see Captain Ompeck fall to the ground with her hands to her throat. Her pristine white uniform slowly turning blue as blood continued to seep through her fingers at an uncontrollable rate.
Her attacker stood by the bridge’s entry way, still smiling at him. Ompecks blood running down his chin and shirt as the human officer raises both of his clenched fists, displaying the armed incendiaries in his grasp. Hondach would notice the two charred blots on the humans uniform where plasma bolts had struck, presumably putting him down before he was brought up to the ship for his scientists to examine. How was it that they had missed this part of their life cycle, he did not know.
The human opens its mouth, but no words came forth for the bridge translators to work with. Just a crackle of grunts and wet squeals before it runs one hand over its own throat and points a broken digit at Hondach. It lets loose another wet cackle. Hondach watches as the human lowers both arms, pulling its lips back in a sickly display of ferocity before tossing the incendiaries in its grasp at the unaware officers still running around behind Hondach.
-On board the Bio Ship Tessius-
“We have confirmed with the Kelpeck, the explosions on the Jonturas bridge resulted in a hull rupture. Bulkheads were reported to have come down and sealed the breach, but the Grand Admiral is believed to be amongst those lost.”
Captain Grisel’Do shook her head in disbelief as the reports came in. “Any word on who is next in command?”
“Admiral Tomgat of the Fibulga consortium fleet is vying for command of the entirety of the fleet but none of the captains have yet responded. Everyone who has taken on human corpses for further studies are reporting deck to deck battles and even several of our ships who did not are reporting signs of sickness.”
“Captain? We are reporting some abnormalities within the ships ecology. There is some kind of virus running loose across the organic matrix. We’ve identified it as human in origin but we can’t identify its method of infection or source. The replicators just suddenly began spewing the viral loads out on deck fifteen where the first human captured was brought on board.”
“Well lets isolate-“
“Captain! Ensign Fogast is seizing. We need help-“
“OH MY GODS! Helsmith just bit off my fingers!”
Captain Grisel'Do turns from the sudden bloody mess towards the curious figure of a human partially digested by the ships recyclers. Its mouth opening, letting loose a sickly wet cackle.
submitted by Chimera_Tracker to humansarespaceorcs [link] [comments]
According to the basic rules of commerce, depending on the availability of a particular resource at any given moment, its value can range from 'I'll pay you to take it' to 'I'll take both your arms, and your legs, and maybe your liver too'. Despite the advances in technology, one resource has never been successfully made more available through artificial means, resulting in the nature of the universe keeping its price at a premium. Every species owns at least one of this highly sought after resource in the form of their cradle world. To find an uninhabited world that is even mildly habitable, that can be lightly terraformed to suit one's preferences, is rare. It is more likely for one to discover a rift to an alternate reality than it is to happen across an unclaimed habitable world while exploring the universe.
Entire worlds have become commodities worth more than just the sum of the resources they contain. Emperors hold them up as prized jewels on their crown, trading the lives of millions within their populous for even a mildly habitable world located within the confines of another’s arbitrary defined territorial lines.
.
.
.
Location: Rift system connecting the Parsekian cluster to the newly accessible Orion cluster
On board the fleet ship Jonturas, Grand Admiral Hondach straightened himself out in the fleet admiral’s chair. Centered on the bridge with the captains chair moved behind and to the left of him, he was able to command the entire fleet from this position. Under his command was the entirety of the Ikarinan, his peoples, invasion fleet, the military ready fleet of the Fibulga Consortium and five war battalions along with two additional battalions for replacements. All recruited from territories he had a hand in annexing back home. They were all far from home, but every soul in the fleet knew the reason for their being here.
“We are in geosynchronous orbit Grand Admiral!” A soft squeak yells out across the room, drawing Hondachs’ attention to the largest viewscreen located on the bulkhead across from him. The myriad of smaller ones along its peripherals displayed important information such as troop counts, active squad vitals, the fleets loadout and even the lunch menu.
Hondach admires the view of the green and blue world they were currently in orbit of. A new habitable world for the taking after centuries without. The first of several hundred if the reports were accurate. Though he didn’t have any reason to doubt the surveyors, they’ve never been scandalized with bringing back false information.
“Put the system up on the main holographic display. Focus in on the planet. And can someone replace the lunch menu with a display of the status of our bio-ship.”
The displays would be updated to reflect his requests while the holographic projector descends from the ceiling. With an audible click as it locks into place, the space above everyone’s heads would light up in a spectacular spectral display of the entire system. Hondach would reach up and caress the tiny asteroids that whizzed by. He never got tired of the holographic system even after all these years. As he had requested, the view would shift such that the planet they orbited now hung just above his head. He reclines his seat, examining its splendor while taking note of the position of his fleet in orbit. Thin tendrils would reach out from his ships, slamming into the planets atmosphere, reflecting their selective orbital bombardment activities. They were few and far between, doing extremely focused devastation to not cause too much ecological damage. They wanted the planet after all, it would be a mistake to permanently damage its life supporting capabilities while eliminating the humans.
“Is the bioweapon ready for dispersal?”
“Bomber squadrons are prepped and entering low orbit sir. Ready for dispersal on your command”
Hondach stood up and took a step forward, approaching the southern pole of the planet as its display shifted overhead to compensate for his change in position. He reaches up to it, letting his fingers slip through the crust. The imagery shivering from their contact till he withdraws. Soon this world will be theirs, then the rest will follow.
“Cleanse”
With the uttering of that singular word, a multitude of points would appear across the face of the world, signifying the various distribution points for the bioweapon fashioned by his bio-ship.
With the realization that habitable worlds were a rarity in the universe, the nature of war had to change. There was no way around it. If an enemy decides to bunker themselves in, destroying the planet around them to claim it for yourself would be the same as stabbing yourself to sheathe a blade. You would be able to sheathe your blade sure, but you would also seriously injure yourself in the process. Destroying a world to kill an enemy would not only be pointless but would go against the very purpose of having waged war in the first place. As a result, new ways to fight had to be thought up, and besides falling back on the old vestige of using troops in large quantities, exotic methods of efficiently eliminating an enemy with minimal collateral damage had to be fashioned. One such method was the use of bioweapons that only targeted a specific genome structure.
Since the first human had been captured at the recently stabilized hyper link between the Parsekian and this once isolated cluster, the fleets bio-ship has been hard at work dismantling the human genome to formulate a quick death for them. The formulated bioweapon was then distributed to the carriers of his fleet and carefully loaded into their bomber squadrons for this moment.
Grand Admiral Hondach now watched as pockets of yellow fog blossomed from the various distribution points. The black specks of his bomber squadrons rise from the atmosphere, moving back to their mother ships as the fog envelopes the entire planet.
“What is the status of our troops on the surface?”
“No casualties reported since bioweapon dispersal. Observers are reporting full casualties on the human side. Fields of their soldiers lay dead sir.”
“Tell them to begin sweeping the corpses. Capture any survivors for our scientists. The corpses can be recovered for the bio ship.”
Hondach watched as his officers went about coordinating with the rest of the fleet and the armies on the surface to begin carrying out his tasks. Like a well-oiled machine, they’d strip the planet bare of its corpses and ready it for future colonization.
“Grand Admiral, Sir?”
Hondach turns to face the captain of the Jonturas, giving the stout female a nod to speak.
“We still haven’t deciphered a significant portion of the human DNA sir. Maybe we should be a little more cautious with our approach? We have the rift system now, it is under our control. None of our enemies will be able to slip by to lay claim on any of the other human worlds. The humans themselves have proven to be inferior to us technologically, there is no reason why we shouldn’t spend more time studying the abnormalities we uncovered.”
“A fair assessment Captain, but unfortunately, I do not wish to spend the rest of my life claiming one world at a time for our people. Our harvesters have scoured their entire genome structure and they have found no reason to be wary of what is yet to be deciphered. They believe most of it to be junk sequences according to their latest reports. Have you read it? No? Well I suggest you take the time to do so when you’re not too busy questioning my orders. I plan to secure my legacy with this campaign captain, do not let yourself be an obstacle, I can be a good friend for your career, or an unending nightmare.”
“Yes Admiral.” Captain Ompeck shakily nods, lowering her gaze in submission and support of her superiors orders before retreating to perform her duties.
Hondach glances back at the planet, examining the various points marked out for where troops were currently moving about on the planets surface. He clicks on one to bring up their feeds.
“Coms, patch me into this officer Lorte.”
-Down on the planets surface-
Lieutenant Lorte felt uneasy as he moved along the edge of the field. His entire company had been dropped off on this continental land mass near the equator. Each platoon having their own individualized mission, his being to secure the anchor point the humans had built for their incomplete orbital elevator. The populous here were made up of mostly engineers but they were an impressively innovative and tenacious bunch. The mechanized walking tank in his platoon bore the marks of that willful tenacity. Designed to survive a sub orbital landing without any protection whatsoever, it now had a gaping hole in its chassis where the humans had struck a blow. At least the fight didn’t last much longer after that once the bioweapon began enveloping the region.
As he paced the edge of the clearing where the humans had succumbed to the effects of the bioweapon, he notices a slight movement in the distance as a shadowy figure moved through the field of bodies and faded into the fog. For a moment, he thought he saw the figure holding on to a rather ancient farming instrument. Before he could investigate it any further, however, the Grand Admirals call signature appears across his HUD, sending a shiver down his spine.
“What is the status down there?” The Admirals voice greets him over his helmet's speakers.
“Greetings Grand Admiral, Sir. I think your coms officer must have patched you into the wrong interlink. This is lieutenant Lorte sir, not Captain Tobga. If you’d like I can get my coms officer to-“
“I contacted your platoon directly lieutenant Lorte. My coms officer didn’t get it wrong. Now, please update me on the situation on the surface as I’ve requested.”
“Ye-yes sir. Uhh..The enemy is no longer a threat sir. The bioweapon did its trick. They all fell down like flies clawing at their throats-“
“Yes yes. I do not need to hear the details of their ‘valiant’ struggles. I honestly just wanted to know if they’re all dead and if we can send down the scavengers to pick up the corpses.”
“They should be sir. I mean, I think I saw some movement but-“
“Movement? Our scanners are picking up nothing other than the life signs of our soldiers. Can you confirm that you saw movement?”
“No sir, I cannot. It might have been just an illusion. The light coming through the fog is rather distorted.”
Lorte regretted even thinking of mentioning what he thought he saw as soon as he heard the Grand Admiral let loose a long sigh over the coms. He gritted his molars, waiting for his commission to be rescinded.
“Take your platoon out across the clearing to meet up with the others of your company. We are reading their heat signatures north of your position. Get your soldiers to check the human bodies for any signs of life. Use your hands to find a pulse if you have to. I do not want any survivors to slip by unnoticed. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I do. I will make -click- uhh..hello? Grand Admiral? Sir?” Lorte glances over at his coms officer who shrugs sheepishly back at him. He groans, shaking his head as he begins relaying their new orders, herding his platoon out across the field and into the thick yellow fog.
As he began moving across the field, his men and women would begin firing out randomly as they spotted movements. Every moving shadow drew bursts of fire before silence washes over them once again. It was nerve wrecking, but the situation only grew worse as wind blows through, sweeping the fog aside to reveal a small contingent of humans still standing. Their hungry eyes starring back at them as their lips pull back to reveal teeth stained blue. All it took was the snap of someone stepping on dried vegetation for things to be thrown into a sudden frenzy.
-Back on the Jonturas-
Grand Admiral Hondach glances over towards the large screens where the fleets stats were being displayed. He notices a group of his bridge officers scurrying to one of the terminals as the bio-signs of several soldiers on the planet began to show problems.
“What is going on?” He queries loudly as he steps in their general direction.
“Several troopers are encountering weird phenomenon down on the surface sir” One of the officers replies as she turns around. She waves off the junior officer manning the terminal nearby, motioning them away as she transfers her terminal from her previous station to her current one.
“They are reporting bio-scanners supplying false life signs. Showing supposed neural activity in bodies long dead from the bioweapon. Medics are finding no physical life signs and commanders have taken upon themselves to shoot any bodies still showing life signs on scanners. But even still the scanners are showing sporadic signatures that can’t be identified. I am trying to get our low orbital ships to double check the readings using their sensors but that might take a little while sir.”
Hondach says nothing, nodding along to the assessment. He was amazed with the young officers initiative, taking special note to bring her up on commendations at a later date. If she showed sufficient promise, he might even see to getting her a command of her own. Who knows, maybe Captain Ompeck could be convinced to step aside before they move further into human territories. Hondach comes out of his daydream as he notices the officer and a few of her compatriots looking at him. He quickly waves his hand and nods “Continue. Your plan sounds…good.”
“Thank you…sir.”
As the officers turned their attention back to their terminals, a junior officer across the room calls out frantically.
“Sirs! Company Twelve is under attack from humans!”
“How many?”
“Unknown sir! It seems the bioweapon didn’t have any effect on any of them within the region. They just started waking up and began attacking-“
“Company fifty two is reporting a similar situation sirs!” Another voice yells out from the other end of the room.
Hondach watches as the bridge slowly erupts into a frenzy of yelling voices and growing disarray as conflicting information is being relayed around. He glances up at the world hovering above his head, watching dozens of pop up alerts begin colouring its surface as reports continued to flood in of the humans sudden reprisal. It seems his scientists might have gotten it wrong with their design of the bioweapon.
“Sirs I’ve got reports of weapons being ineffective-“
“Losses along the northern most continent are rising, we are loosing our foothold at point-“
“We just lost a shuttle craft along the-“
“Bio-scanners can’t pick up-“
“-life signs are growing erratic-“
“-movement reported at-“
“SIR!”
Hondach turns around just in time to see Captain Ompeck fall to the ground with her hands to her throat. Her pristine white uniform slowly turning blue as blood continued to seep through her fingers at an uncontrollable rate.
Her attacker stood by the bridge’s entry way, still smiling at him. Ompecks blood running down his chin and shirt as the human officer raises both of his clenched fists, displaying the armed incendiaries in his grasp. Hondach would notice the two charred blots on the humans uniform where plasma bolts had struck, presumably putting him down before he was brought up to the ship for his scientists to examine. How was it that they had missed this part of their life cycle, he did not know.
The human opens its mouth, but no words came forth for the bridge translators to work with. Just a crackle of grunts and wet squeals before it runs one hand over its own throat and points a broken digit at Hondach. It lets loose another wet cackle. Hondach watches as the human lowers both arms, pulling its lips back in a sickly display of ferocity before tossing the incendiaries in its grasp at the unaware officers still running around behind Hondach.
-On board the Bio Ship Tessius-
“We have confirmed with the Kelpeck, the explosions on the Jonturas bridge resulted in a hull rupture. Bulkheads were reported to have come down and sealed the breach, but the Grand Admiral is believed to be amongst those lost.”
Captain Grisel’Do shook her head in disbelief as the reports came in. “Any word on who is next in command?”
“Admiral Tomgat of the Fibulga consortium fleet is vying for command of the entirety of the fleet but none of the captains have yet responded. Everyone who has taken on human corpses for further studies are reporting deck to deck battles and even several of our ships who did not are reporting signs of sickness.”
“Captain? We are reporting some abnormalities within the ships ecology. There is some kind of virus running loose across the organic matrix. We’ve identified it as human in origin but we can’t identify its method of infection or source. The replicators just suddenly began spewing the viral loads out on deck fifteen where the first human captured was brought on board.”
“Well lets isolate-“
“Captain! Ensign Fogast is seizing. We need help-“
“OH MY GODS! Helsmith just bit off my fingers!”
Captain Grisel'Do turns from the sudden bloody mess towards the curious figure of a human partially digested by the ships recyclers. Its mouth opening, letting loose a sickly wet cackle.
2024.05.06 17:21 Chimera_Tracker They bit me!
The universe is a really big place. Though it is believed to be infinite, the resources within it, however, are not...
According to the basic rules of commerce, depending on the availability of a particular resource at any given moment, its value can range from 'I'll pay you to take it' to 'I'll take both your arms, and your legs, and maybe your liver too'. Despite the advances in technology, one resource has never been successfully made more available through artificial means, resulting in the nature of the universe keeping its price at a premium. Every species owns at least one of this highly sought after resource in the form of their cradle world. To find an uninhabited world that is even mildly habitable, that can be lightly terraformed to suit one's preferences, is rare. It is more likely for one to discover a rift to an alternate reality than it is to happen across an unclaimed habitable world while exploring the universe.
Entire worlds have become commodities worth more than just the sum of the resources they contain. Emperors hold them up as prized jewels on their crown, trading the lives of millions within their populous for even a mildly habitable world located within the confines of another’s arbitrary defined territorial lines.
.
.
.
Location: Rift system connecting the Parsekian cluster to the newly accessible Orion cluster
On board the fleet ship Jonturas, Grand Admiral Hondach straightened himself out in the fleet admiral’s chair. Centered on the bridge with the captains chair moved behind and to the left of him, he was able to command the entire fleet from this position. Under his command was the entirety of the Ikarinan, his peoples, invasion fleet, the military ready fleet of the Fibulga Consortium and five war battalions along with two additional battalions for replacements. All recruited from territories he had a hand in annexing back home. They were all far from home, but every soul in the fleet knew the reason for their being here.
“We are in geosynchronous orbit Grand Admiral!” A soft squeak yells out across the room, drawing Hondachs’ attention to the largest viewscreen located on the bulkhead across from him. The myriad of smaller ones along its peripherals displayed important information such as troop counts, active squad vitals, the fleets loadout and even the lunch menu.
Hondach admires the view of the green and blue world they were currently in orbit of. A new habitable world for the taking after centuries without. The first of several hundred if the reports were accurate. Though he didn’t have any reason to doubt the surveyors, they’ve never been scandalized with bringing back false information.
“Put the system up on the main holographic display. Focus in on the planet. And can someone replace the lunch menu with a display of the status of our bio-ship.”
The displays would be updated to reflect his requests while the holographic projector descends from the ceiling. With an audible click as it locks into place, the space above everyone’s heads would light up in a spectacular spectral display of the entire system. Hondach would reach up and caress the tiny asteroids that whizzed by. He never got tired of the holographic system even after all these years. As he had requested, the view would shift such that the planet they orbited now hung just above his head. He reclines his seat, examining its splendor while taking note of the position of his fleet in orbit. Thin tendrils would reach out from his ships, slamming into the planets atmosphere, reflecting their selective orbital bombardment activities. They were few and far between, doing extremely focused devastation to not cause too much ecological damage. They wanted the planet after all, it would be a mistake to permanently damage its life supporting capabilities while eliminating the humans.
“Is the bioweapon ready for dispersal?”
“Bomber squadrons are prepped and entering low orbit sir. Ready for dispersal on your command”
Hondach stood up and took a step forward, approaching the southern pole of the planet as its display shifted overhead to compensate for his change in position. He reaches up to it, letting his fingers slip through the crust. The imagery shivering from their contact till he withdraws. Soon this world will be theirs, then the rest will follow.
“Cleanse”
With the uttering of that singular word, a multitude of points would appear across the face of the world, signifying the various distribution points for the bioweapon fashioned by his bio-ship.
With the realization that habitable worlds were a rarity in the universe, the nature of war had to change. There was no way around it. If an enemy decides to bunker themselves in, destroying the planet around them to claim it for yourself would be the same as stabbing yourself to sheathe a blade. You would be able to sheathe your blade sure, but you would also seriously injure yourself in the process. Destroying a world to kill an enemy would not only be pointless but would go against the very purpose of having waged war in the first place. As a result, new ways to fight had to be thought up, and besides falling back on the old vestige of using troops in large quantities, exotic methods of efficiently eliminating an enemy with minimal collateral damage had to be fashioned. One such method was the use of bioweapons that only targeted a specific genome structure.
Since the first human had been captured at the recently stabilized hyper link between the Parsekian and this once isolated cluster, the fleets bio-ship has been hard at work dismantling the human genome to formulate a quick death for them. The formulated bioweapon was then distributed to the carriers of his fleet and carefully loaded into their bomber squadrons for this moment.
Grand Admiral Hondach now watched as pockets of yellow fog blossomed from the various distribution points. The black specks of his bomber squadrons rise from the atmosphere, moving back to their mother ships as the fog envelopes the entire planet.
“What is the status of our troops on the surface?”
“No casualties reported since bioweapon dispersal. Observers are reporting full casualties on the human side. Fields of their soldiers lay dead sir.”
“Tell them to begin sweeping the corpses. Capture any survivors for our scientists. The corpses can be recovered for the bio ship.”
Hondach watched as his officers went about coordinating with the rest of the fleet and the armies on the surface to begin carrying out his tasks. Like a well-oiled machine, they’d strip the planet bare of its corpses and ready it for future colonization.
“Grand Admiral, Sir?”
Hondach turns to face the captain of the Jonturas, giving the stout female a nod to speak.
“We still haven’t deciphered a significant portion of the human DNA sir. Maybe we should be a little more cautious with our approach? We have the rift system now, it is under our control. None of our enemies will be able to slip by to lay claim on any of the other human worlds. The humans themselves have proven to be inferior to us technologically, there is no reason why we shouldn’t spend more time studying the abnormalities we uncovered.”
“A fair assessment Captain, but unfortunately, I do not wish to spend the rest of my life claiming one world at a time for our people. Our harvesters have scoured their entire genome structure and they have found no reason to be wary of what is yet to be deciphered. They believe most of it to be junk sequences according to their latest reports. Have you read it? No? Well I suggest you take the time to do so when you’re not too busy questioning my orders. I plan to secure my legacy with this campaign captain, do not let yourself be an obstacle, I can be a good friend for your career, or an unending nightmare.”
“Yes Admiral.” Captain Ompeck shakily nods, lowering her gaze in submission and support of her superiors orders before retreating to perform her duties.
Hondach glances back at the planet, examining the various points marked out for where troops were currently moving about on the planets surface. He clicks on one to bring up their feeds.
“Coms, patch me into this officer Lorte.”
-Down on the planets surface-
Lieutenant Lorte felt uneasy as he moved along the edge of the field. His entire company had been dropped off on this continental land mass near the equator. Each platoon having their own individualized mission, his being to secure the anchor point the humans had built for their incomplete orbital elevator. The populous here were made up of mostly engineers but they were an impressively innovative and tenacious bunch. The mechanized walking tank in his platoon bore the marks of that willful tenacity. Designed to survive a sub orbital landing without any protection whatsoever, it now had a gaping hole in its chassis where the humans had struck a blow. At least the fight didn’t last much longer after that once the bioweapon began enveloping the region.
As he paced the edge of the clearing where the humans had succumbed to the effects of the bioweapon, he notices a slight movement in the distance as a shadowy figure moved through the field of bodies and faded into the fog. For a moment, he thought he saw the figure holding on to a rather ancient farming instrument. Before he could investigate it any further, however, the Grand Admirals call signature appears across his HUD, sending a shiver down his spine.
“What is the status down there?” The Admirals voice greets him over his helmet's speakers.
“Greetings Grand Admiral, Sir. I think your coms officer must have patched you into the wrong interlink. This is lieutenant Lorte sir, not Captain Tobga. If you’d like I can get my coms officer to-“
“I contacted your platoon directly lieutenant Lorte. My coms officer didn’t get it wrong. Now, please update me on the situation on the surface as I’ve requested.”
“Ye-yes sir. Uhh..The enemy is no longer a threat sir. The bioweapon did its trick. They all fell down like flies clawing at their throats-“
“Yes yes. I do not need to hear the details of their ‘valiant’ struggles. I honestly just wanted to know if they’re all dead and if we can send down the scavengers to pick up the corpses.”
“They should be sir. I mean, I think I saw some movement but-“
“Movement? Our scanners are picking up nothing other than the life signs of our soldiers. Can you confirm that you saw movement?”
“No sir, I cannot. It might have been just an illusion. The light coming through the fog is rather distorted.”
Lorte regretted even thinking of mentioning what he thought he saw as soon as he heard the Grand Admiral let loose a long sigh over the coms. He gritted his molars, waiting for his commission to be rescinded.
“Take your platoon out across the clearing to meet up with the others of your company. We are reading their heat signatures north of your position. Get your soldiers to check the human bodies for any signs of life. Use your hands to find a pulse if you have to. I do not want any survivors to slip by unnoticed. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I do. I will make -click- uhh..hello? Grand Admiral? Sir?” Lorte glances over at his coms officer who shrugs sheepishly back at him. He groans, shaking his head as he begins relaying their new orders, herding his platoon out across the field and into the thick yellow fog.
As he began moving across the field, his men and women would begin firing out randomly as they spotted movements. Every moving shadow drew bursts of fire before silence washes over them once again. It was nerve wrecking, but the situation only grew worse as wind blows through, sweeping the fog aside to reveal a small contingent of humans still standing. Their hungry eyes starring back at them as their lips pull back to reveal teeth stained blue. All it took was the snap of someone stepping on dried vegetation for things to be thrown into a sudden frenzy.
-Back on the Jonturas-
Grand Admiral Hondach glances over towards the large screens where the fleets stats were being displayed. He notices a group of his bridge officers scurrying to one of the terminals as the bio-signs of several soldiers on the planet began to show problems.
“What is going on?” He queries loudly as he steps in their general direction.
“Several troopers are encountering weird phenomenon down on the surface sir” One of the officers replies as she turns around. She waves off the junior officer manning the terminal nearby, motioning them away as she transfers her terminal from her previous station to her current one.
“They are reporting bio-scanners supplying false life signs. Showing supposed neural activity in bodies long dead from the bioweapon. Medics are finding no physical life signs and commanders have taken upon themselves to shoot any bodies still showing life signs on scanners. But even still the scanners are showing sporadic signatures that can’t be identified. I am trying to get our low orbital ships to double check the readings using their sensors but that might take a little while sir.”
Hondach says nothing, nodding along to the assessment. He was amazed with the young officers initiative, taking special note to bring her up on commendations at a later date. If she showed sufficient promise, he might even see to getting her a command of her own. Who knows, maybe Captain Ompeck could be convinced to step aside before they move further into human territories. Hondach comes out of his daydream as he notices the officer and a few of her compatriots looking at him. He quickly waves his hand and nods “Continue. Your plan sounds…good.”
“Thank you…sir.”
As the officers turned their attention back to their terminals, a junior officer across the room calls out frantically.
“Sirs! Company Twelve is under attack from humans!”
“How many?”
“Unknown sir! It seems the bioweapon didn’t have any effect on any of them within the region. They just started waking up and began attacking-“
“Company fifty two is reporting a similar situation sirs!” Another voice yells out from the other end of the room.
Hondach watches as the bridge slowly erupts into a frenzy of yelling voices and growing disarray as conflicting information is being relayed around. He glances up at the world hovering above his head, watching dozens of pop up alerts begin colouring its surface as reports continued to flood in of the humans sudden reprisal. It seems his scientists might have gotten it wrong with their design of the bioweapon.
“Sirs I’ve got reports of weapons being ineffective-“
“Losses along the northern most continent are rising, we are loosing our foothold at point-“
“We just lost a shuttle craft along the-“
“Bio-scanners can’t pick up-“
“-life signs are growing erratic-“
“-movement reported at-“
“SIR!”
Hondach turns around just in time to see Captain Ompeck fall to the ground with her hands to her throat. Her pristine white uniform slowly turning blue as blood continued to seep through her fingers at an uncontrollable rate.
Her attacker stood by the bridge’s entry way, still smiling at him. Ompecks blood running down his chin and shirt as the human officer raises both of his clenched fists, displaying the armed incendiaries in his grasp. Hondach would notice the two charred blots on the humans uniform where plasma bolts had struck, presumably putting him down before he was brought up to the ship for his scientists to examine. How was it that they had missed this part of their life cycle, he did not know.
The human opens its mouth, but no words came forth for the bridge translators to work with. Just a crackle of grunts and wet squeals before it runs one hand over its own throat and points a broken digit at Hondach. It lets loose another wet cackle. Hondach watches as the human lowers both arms, pulling its lips back in a sickly display of ferocity before tossing the incendiaries in its grasp at the unaware officers still running around behind Hondach.
-On board the Bio Ship Tessius-
“We have confirmed with the Kelpeck, the explosions on the Jonturas bridge resulted in a hull rupture. Bulkheads were reported to have come down and sealed the breach, but the Grand Admiral is believed to be amongst those lost.”
Captain Grisel’Do shook her head in disbelief as the reports came in. “Any word on who is next in command?”
“Admiral Tomgat of the Fibulga consortium fleet is vying for command of the entirety of the fleet but none of the captains have yet responded. Everyone who has taken on human corpses for further studies are reporting deck to deck battles and even several of our ships who did not are reporting signs of sickness.”
“Captain? We are reporting some abnormalities within the ships ecology. There is some kind of virus running loose across the organic matrix. We’ve identified it as human in origin but we can’t identify its method of infection or source. The replicators just suddenly began spewing the viral loads out on deck fifteen where the first human captured was brought on board.”
“Well lets isolate-“
“Captain! Ensign Fogast is seizing. We need help-“
“OH MY GODS! Helsmith just bit off my fingers!”
Captain Grisel'Do turns from the sudden bloody mess towards the curious figure of a human partially digested by the ships recyclers. Its mouth opening, letting loose a sickly wet cackle.
submitted by Chimera_Tracker to HFY [link] [comments]
According to the basic rules of commerce, depending on the availability of a particular resource at any given moment, its value can range from 'I'll pay you to take it' to 'I'll take both your arms, and your legs, and maybe your liver too'. Despite the advances in technology, one resource has never been successfully made more available through artificial means, resulting in the nature of the universe keeping its price at a premium. Every species owns at least one of this highly sought after resource in the form of their cradle world. To find an uninhabited world that is even mildly habitable, that can be lightly terraformed to suit one's preferences, is rare. It is more likely for one to discover a rift to an alternate reality than it is to happen across an unclaimed habitable world while exploring the universe.
Entire worlds have become commodities worth more than just the sum of the resources they contain. Emperors hold them up as prized jewels on their crown, trading the lives of millions within their populous for even a mildly habitable world located within the confines of another’s arbitrary defined territorial lines.
.
.
.
Location: Rift system connecting the Parsekian cluster to the newly accessible Orion cluster
On board the fleet ship Jonturas, Grand Admiral Hondach straightened himself out in the fleet admiral’s chair. Centered on the bridge with the captains chair moved behind and to the left of him, he was able to command the entire fleet from this position. Under his command was the entirety of the Ikarinan, his peoples, invasion fleet, the military ready fleet of the Fibulga Consortium and five war battalions along with two additional battalions for replacements. All recruited from territories he had a hand in annexing back home. They were all far from home, but every soul in the fleet knew the reason for their being here.
“We are in geosynchronous orbit Grand Admiral!” A soft squeak yells out across the room, drawing Hondachs’ attention to the largest viewscreen located on the bulkhead across from him. The myriad of smaller ones along its peripherals displayed important information such as troop counts, active squad vitals, the fleets loadout and even the lunch menu.
Hondach admires the view of the green and blue world they were currently in orbit of. A new habitable world for the taking after centuries without. The first of several hundred if the reports were accurate. Though he didn’t have any reason to doubt the surveyors, they’ve never been scandalized with bringing back false information.
“Put the system up on the main holographic display. Focus in on the planet. And can someone replace the lunch menu with a display of the status of our bio-ship.”
The displays would be updated to reflect his requests while the holographic projector descends from the ceiling. With an audible click as it locks into place, the space above everyone’s heads would light up in a spectacular spectral display of the entire system. Hondach would reach up and caress the tiny asteroids that whizzed by. He never got tired of the holographic system even after all these years. As he had requested, the view would shift such that the planet they orbited now hung just above his head. He reclines his seat, examining its splendor while taking note of the position of his fleet in orbit. Thin tendrils would reach out from his ships, slamming into the planets atmosphere, reflecting their selective orbital bombardment activities. They were few and far between, doing extremely focused devastation to not cause too much ecological damage. They wanted the planet after all, it would be a mistake to permanently damage its life supporting capabilities while eliminating the humans.
“Is the bioweapon ready for dispersal?”
“Bomber squadrons are prepped and entering low orbit sir. Ready for dispersal on your command”
Hondach stood up and took a step forward, approaching the southern pole of the planet as its display shifted overhead to compensate for his change in position. He reaches up to it, letting his fingers slip through the crust. The imagery shivering from their contact till he withdraws. Soon this world will be theirs, then the rest will follow.
“Cleanse”
With the uttering of that singular word, a multitude of points would appear across the face of the world, signifying the various distribution points for the bioweapon fashioned by his bio-ship.
With the realization that habitable worlds were a rarity in the universe, the nature of war had to change. There was no way around it. If an enemy decides to bunker themselves in, destroying the planet around them to claim it for yourself would be the same as stabbing yourself to sheathe a blade. You would be able to sheathe your blade sure, but you would also seriously injure yourself in the process. Destroying a world to kill an enemy would not only be pointless but would go against the very purpose of having waged war in the first place. As a result, new ways to fight had to be thought up, and besides falling back on the old vestige of using troops in large quantities, exotic methods of efficiently eliminating an enemy with minimal collateral damage had to be fashioned. One such method was the use of bioweapons that only targeted a specific genome structure.
Since the first human had been captured at the recently stabilized hyper link between the Parsekian and this once isolated cluster, the fleets bio-ship has been hard at work dismantling the human genome to formulate a quick death for them. The formulated bioweapon was then distributed to the carriers of his fleet and carefully loaded into their bomber squadrons for this moment.
Grand Admiral Hondach now watched as pockets of yellow fog blossomed from the various distribution points. The black specks of his bomber squadrons rise from the atmosphere, moving back to their mother ships as the fog envelopes the entire planet.
“What is the status of our troops on the surface?”
“No casualties reported since bioweapon dispersal. Observers are reporting full casualties on the human side. Fields of their soldiers lay dead sir.”
“Tell them to begin sweeping the corpses. Capture any survivors for our scientists. The corpses can be recovered for the bio ship.”
Hondach watched as his officers went about coordinating with the rest of the fleet and the armies on the surface to begin carrying out his tasks. Like a well-oiled machine, they’d strip the planet bare of its corpses and ready it for future colonization.
“Grand Admiral, Sir?”
Hondach turns to face the captain of the Jonturas, giving the stout female a nod to speak.
“We still haven’t deciphered a significant portion of the human DNA sir. Maybe we should be a little more cautious with our approach? We have the rift system now, it is under our control. None of our enemies will be able to slip by to lay claim on any of the other human worlds. The humans themselves have proven to be inferior to us technologically, there is no reason why we shouldn’t spend more time studying the abnormalities we uncovered.”
“A fair assessment Captain, but unfortunately, I do not wish to spend the rest of my life claiming one world at a time for our people. Our harvesters have scoured their entire genome structure and they have found no reason to be wary of what is yet to be deciphered. They believe most of it to be junk sequences according to their latest reports. Have you read it? No? Well I suggest you take the time to do so when you’re not too busy questioning my orders. I plan to secure my legacy with this campaign captain, do not let yourself be an obstacle, I can be a good friend for your career, or an unending nightmare.”
“Yes Admiral.” Captain Ompeck shakily nods, lowering her gaze in submission and support of her superiors orders before retreating to perform her duties.
Hondach glances back at the planet, examining the various points marked out for where troops were currently moving about on the planets surface. He clicks on one to bring up their feeds.
“Coms, patch me into this officer Lorte.”
-Down on the planets surface-
Lieutenant Lorte felt uneasy as he moved along the edge of the field. His entire company had been dropped off on this continental land mass near the equator. Each platoon having their own individualized mission, his being to secure the anchor point the humans had built for their incomplete orbital elevator. The populous here were made up of mostly engineers but they were an impressively innovative and tenacious bunch. The mechanized walking tank in his platoon bore the marks of that willful tenacity. Designed to survive a sub orbital landing without any protection whatsoever, it now had a gaping hole in its chassis where the humans had struck a blow. At least the fight didn’t last much longer after that once the bioweapon began enveloping the region.
As he paced the edge of the clearing where the humans had succumbed to the effects of the bioweapon, he notices a slight movement in the distance as a shadowy figure moved through the field of bodies and faded into the fog. For a moment, he thought he saw the figure holding on to a rather ancient farming instrument. Before he could investigate it any further, however, the Grand Admirals call signature appears across his HUD, sending a shiver down his spine.
“What is the status down there?” The Admirals voice greets him over his helmet's speakers.
“Greetings Grand Admiral, Sir. I think your coms officer must have patched you into the wrong interlink. This is lieutenant Lorte sir, not Captain Tobga. If you’d like I can get my coms officer to-“
“I contacted your platoon directly lieutenant Lorte. My coms officer didn’t get it wrong. Now, please update me on the situation on the surface as I’ve requested.”
“Ye-yes sir. Uhh..The enemy is no longer a threat sir. The bioweapon did its trick. They all fell down like flies clawing at their throats-“
“Yes yes. I do not need to hear the details of their ‘valiant’ struggles. I honestly just wanted to know if they’re all dead and if we can send down the scavengers to pick up the corpses.”
“They should be sir. I mean, I think I saw some movement but-“
“Movement? Our scanners are picking up nothing other than the life signs of our soldiers. Can you confirm that you saw movement?”
“No sir, I cannot. It might have been just an illusion. The light coming through the fog is rather distorted.”
Lorte regretted even thinking of mentioning what he thought he saw as soon as he heard the Grand Admiral let loose a long sigh over the coms. He gritted his molars, waiting for his commission to be rescinded.
“Take your platoon out across the clearing to meet up with the others of your company. We are reading their heat signatures north of your position. Get your soldiers to check the human bodies for any signs of life. Use your hands to find a pulse if you have to. I do not want any survivors to slip by unnoticed. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I do. I will make -click- uhh..hello? Grand Admiral? Sir?” Lorte glances over at his coms officer who shrugs sheepishly back at him. He groans, shaking his head as he begins relaying their new orders, herding his platoon out across the field and into the thick yellow fog.
As he began moving across the field, his men and women would begin firing out randomly as they spotted movements. Every moving shadow drew bursts of fire before silence washes over them once again. It was nerve wrecking, but the situation only grew worse as wind blows through, sweeping the fog aside to reveal a small contingent of humans still standing. Their hungry eyes starring back at them as their lips pull back to reveal teeth stained blue. All it took was the snap of someone stepping on dried vegetation for things to be thrown into a sudden frenzy.
-Back on the Jonturas-
Grand Admiral Hondach glances over towards the large screens where the fleets stats were being displayed. He notices a group of his bridge officers scurrying to one of the terminals as the bio-signs of several soldiers on the planet began to show problems.
“What is going on?” He queries loudly as he steps in their general direction.
“Several troopers are encountering weird phenomenon down on the surface sir” One of the officers replies as she turns around. She waves off the junior officer manning the terminal nearby, motioning them away as she transfers her terminal from her previous station to her current one.
“They are reporting bio-scanners supplying false life signs. Showing supposed neural activity in bodies long dead from the bioweapon. Medics are finding no physical life signs and commanders have taken upon themselves to shoot any bodies still showing life signs on scanners. But even still the scanners are showing sporadic signatures that can’t be identified. I am trying to get our low orbital ships to double check the readings using their sensors but that might take a little while sir.”
Hondach says nothing, nodding along to the assessment. He was amazed with the young officers initiative, taking special note to bring her up on commendations at a later date. If she showed sufficient promise, he might even see to getting her a command of her own. Who knows, maybe Captain Ompeck could be convinced to step aside before they move further into human territories. Hondach comes out of his daydream as he notices the officer and a few of her compatriots looking at him. He quickly waves his hand and nods “Continue. Your plan sounds…good.”
“Thank you…sir.”
As the officers turned their attention back to their terminals, a junior officer across the room calls out frantically.
“Sirs! Company Twelve is under attack from humans!”
“How many?”
“Unknown sir! It seems the bioweapon didn’t have any effect on any of them within the region. They just started waking up and began attacking-“
“Company fifty two is reporting a similar situation sirs!” Another voice yells out from the other end of the room.
Hondach watches as the bridge slowly erupts into a frenzy of yelling voices and growing disarray as conflicting information is being relayed around. He glances up at the world hovering above his head, watching dozens of pop up alerts begin colouring its surface as reports continued to flood in of the humans sudden reprisal. It seems his scientists might have gotten it wrong with their design of the bioweapon.
“Sirs I’ve got reports of weapons being ineffective-“
“Losses along the northern most continent are rising, we are loosing our foothold at point-“
“We just lost a shuttle craft along the-“
“Bio-scanners can’t pick up-“
“-life signs are growing erratic-“
“-movement reported at-“
“SIR!”
Hondach turns around just in time to see Captain Ompeck fall to the ground with her hands to her throat. Her pristine white uniform slowly turning blue as blood continued to seep through her fingers at an uncontrollable rate.
Her attacker stood by the bridge’s entry way, still smiling at him. Ompecks blood running down his chin and shirt as the human officer raises both of his clenched fists, displaying the armed incendiaries in his grasp. Hondach would notice the two charred blots on the humans uniform where plasma bolts had struck, presumably putting him down before he was brought up to the ship for his scientists to examine. How was it that they had missed this part of their life cycle, he did not know.
The human opens its mouth, but no words came forth for the bridge translators to work with. Just a crackle of grunts and wet squeals before it runs one hand over its own throat and points a broken digit at Hondach. It lets loose another wet cackle. Hondach watches as the human lowers both arms, pulling its lips back in a sickly display of ferocity before tossing the incendiaries in its grasp at the unaware officers still running around behind Hondach.
-On board the Bio Ship Tessius-
“We have confirmed with the Kelpeck, the explosions on the Jonturas bridge resulted in a hull rupture. Bulkheads were reported to have come down and sealed the breach, but the Grand Admiral is believed to be amongst those lost.”
Captain Grisel’Do shook her head in disbelief as the reports came in. “Any word on who is next in command?”
“Admiral Tomgat of the Fibulga consortium fleet is vying for command of the entirety of the fleet but none of the captains have yet responded. Everyone who has taken on human corpses for further studies are reporting deck to deck battles and even several of our ships who did not are reporting signs of sickness.”
“Captain? We are reporting some abnormalities within the ships ecology. There is some kind of virus running loose across the organic matrix. We’ve identified it as human in origin but we can’t identify its method of infection or source. The replicators just suddenly began spewing the viral loads out on deck fifteen where the first human captured was brought on board.”
“Well lets isolate-“
“Captain! Ensign Fogast is seizing. We need help-“
“OH MY GODS! Helsmith just bit off my fingers!”
Captain Grisel'Do turns from the sudden bloody mess towards the curious figure of a human partially digested by the ships recyclers. Its mouth opening, letting loose a sickly wet cackle.
2024.05.02 13:39 Heroman3003 Taking Care of Broken Birds [Part 2]
I am not, in fact, dead. I am actually alive! Yes, this chapter took a while, but story of Krekos continues, less chickens today but somehow no less broken birds. Don't worry, we'll return to the chickens soon enough. For now, I just hope you enjoy~
Big thank you to NoP community for being great!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 5th, 2137
I took a step out of the human ‘therapist’s office and out into the lobby and slowly breathed in. I have done it. I have endured almost an hour of time alone in room with a stranger predator without visibly panicking while also answering their incessant questioning. It was surprisingly tame, in the end, and I expected it to be worse for many different reasons.
I suppose I have to admit, idea of some equivalent of Predator Disease science among sapient predators was something I entertained since as early as I have just learned about the arxur. It always made sense to me that a sapient bloodthirsty monster would have ways of finding those who show empathy, kindness and other traits naturally inherent to prey species. Of course, voicing those thoughts got me screened for PD myself at the time, probably because it was rather weird for a hatchling in early school years to think so much about predator society, but results came back clear and I discarded the stupid thoughts at the time. Yet with arrival of the humans and their own society, I found out I was correct.
While on the ride to the session with Lena, I took the time to learn a bit more using the internet and found out that humanity did have its own medical science of the mind, and apparently they found different ways of solving the issues related to it. The methods that we use appear outdated to them, because they last used them two centuries ago! I suppose it’s far from first time a species develops radically ahead in one field, while staying behind in others, just look at zurulians. And yet, before I could learn more details about modern practices of that science, I was already in front of the office with promise to be picked up in three hours.
I was prepared for the screening, shoving away any empathy I had into far corners of my mind, channeling the small figments of rage and frustration forward and, of course, trying to imitate some sense of bloodlust. Except it seems like this was not a session that thorough, because instead of being screened, I was just interrogated about my past. I can only assume it’s the whiplash from what I was expecting to the mundanity of what happened that led to it feeling so easy, compared to last time I was being interrogated. And she didn’t even ask any strategic questions, although that’s likely due to the fact that with war already won by humans, there is no point in it.
Instead Dr. Cathaway asked more about what I’m ‘worried’ about. Obviously, I didn’t mention anything related to my natural instinctual fear of being around humans, but she picked up on that anyway. I don’t think she once looked directly at me throughout the time of the session, which was extremely welcome when it comes to human interaction. And because I wasn’t stupid enough to talk about how I mostly wanted to go back home and as far away from humans as possible for rest of my life, I talked about the more mundane worries that wouldn’t make me seem undesirable to keep around. Like concerns I have about chickens. Not the predator stalking them, or the bullying among them, moreso their... General existence. And also concerns about my upcoming attempt to restart my education.
It was surprisingly easy to talk to a human when they’re not constantly staring you down and actually react to your body language. Lena did mention this therapist worked with other refugees, but I did not expect a human to be able to grasp it. By the end of the session I almost forgot that doctor was a human at all.
And when the hour was up, she said she was glad I opened up. Did I? I don’t think I did. Maybe I should have been less talkative because she promised to be more ready for next time and have something prepared just for me. I wonder what she could mean. Bringing proper brain scan equipment? I doubt that, our further sessions were to be done remotely after all, it was in-person only for the first one. Maybe she caught onto me not saying everything? But I am very good at hiding information behind veil of meekness, I was certain.
And that brings me to now, standing in the lobby and coming to terms with reality of what I just went through and how... easy it was. Just sitting down and having a chat with a predator. If I had some doubts about it before, by now I could certainly qualify as someone sick with Predator Disease anywhere else within Federation.
Or what’s left of it anyway. It’s all run by humans now.
Pushing aside thoughts of living in the post-war world, I stepped outside the therapist’s building and onto the street. It wasn’t too busy thankfully, but even the few humans walking about their business almost instantly turned their heads towards me the moment I was outside.
The upside of having superior peripheral vision is being able to spot all of the humans staring at me. The downside of having superior peripheral is being unable to avoid looking at humans staring at me. One of them actively bared their teeth as they walked past me, expression in clear angered scowl, making me scamper out of the way. To avoid gathering any more unwanted predator attention, I start walking towards my next destination, doing my best to ignore the fact that any human that’s not staring down into their device is staring directly at me with furrowed brows and a sneer.
I quickened my pace, suppressing instinct to take flight. While it would not break any human rules for me to take to the sky, back when I still lived at the refugee camp, I was advised strongly against it due to how much attention I could draw. Although I’m not too sure it can get much worse than the attention I am receiving now...
They are all eyeing me up like they want to kill me. Not without a reason.
There is a reason that I am to meet Lena later. Both of us had our own business here in town after all. She needed to buy some supplies in preparation for her son’s arrival, while I, in addition to the first visit to the therapist, needed to take a visit and register in-person at the camp for my application to proceed. I don’t understand what is it with humans and needing to personally stare someone down before they are willing to deal with you. First the therapist insisting first session must be in person and only later ones being online, then filling out online application for education only to be asked to do that again physically. Actually, is it a predator thing, or is it just a primitive thing? I think I heard something about yotul strongly preferring in-person dealings over remote too.
“Out of the way, shitbird!”
Sudden yell snapped me out of those thoughts, as I remembered where I was and scampered out of the way of the human in front of me. The street had more than enough space, this one could have just stepped to the side... But I guess that’s not the point to make here.
The point is that you’re not welcome.
The human kept the eye contact as they kept walking down in opposite direction. I could hear them muttering something that sounded like human curses, but the sound was too incoherent for my translator to pick up. Abandoning my musings about cultural aspects of primitive societies, I focused on the road, intent on giving any further humans along the way a wider berth.
That’s what they warned me about when I still lived at the camp and why the only time I stepped foot outside of it was when I was responding to the job offer. That I personally would likely be a target for harassment and shouldn’t be alone. Well, not like anyone at the camp was willing to escort me even if I had wanted to explore the town. And while Lena and Reginald showed willingness, they were busy and it’s not like I could ask them unless it was already along the way, like today was for Lena.
The rest of the walk was thankfully devoid of more human run-ins, although definitely not devoid of every human passing by shamelessly staring me down. Any sense of calm I felt after meeting with Dr. Cathaway was as good as gone by time I reached the administrative building by the refugee camp.
The receptionist, surprisingly but thankfully, was a venlil who dismissively pointed me down the hall. I found the correct office quickly, but seems like there’s already a bit of a line there. Waiting outside of it in one of waiting chair sat a gojid, tapping idly at his holopad to pass time. I was glad for non-human company even if experience told me this isn’t likely to be the friendliest interaction, so I sat next to him. He, in turn, only acknowledged me for a moment before his spines bristled in frustration and he returned his attention back to his device.
Still, I knew I was safe from more physical forms of harassment while here, so I decided to push my luck. After all, if he’s here, he must be part of the education program too. I wonder what sort of course he’s going for. Well, I should try the conversation at least.
“Uhm. Good day. My name is—”
“I already know your name, deserter,” gojid responds with an aggressive grumble in his voice. Well, this isn’t off to the best start.
I suppose he’s one of the ones that supported extermination, if he’s calling me deserter and not traitor? And it kind of makes sense that I’d be known at the camp. It was mostly the gojid that decided to stay for one reason or another even after there were new settlement opportunities provided. There were also a few people from other worlds that opposed humans, like tilfish and harchen. But krakotl? I was the only one, and it was made clear to everyone that I’ve gone through human justice system and came out clear.
But I wasn’t going to give up on small talk so easily.
“Then you have me at disadvantage...” I trailed off, waiting for him to give me his name.
“...Bakir. What’s it to you, Krekos?”
The way he said my name was almost dripping with contempt. I felt temptation to stop attempting friendly talk, but this is first time I’ve seen a non-predator in weeks, and being able to chat even with unfriendly face was something I’ve been craving for a while.
“Nice to meet you, Bakir! I just wanted to get to know you you. We’re both in education program, so we could end up studying together. It’s good to know potential fellow students.”
Gojid’s spines visibly twitched. I found myself sinking into my feathers as I realized I was pushing a bit too hard.
“I fucking hope not. Listen, I get you’re trying to act all friendly, but I simply don’t care. I’m glad I wasn’t in one of the camps on other side of the world that you lot vaporized along with the human cities,” Bakir put his pad aside and started leaning towards me, actively staring at me head on, like a predator would, as he continued and pointed his claw at me, “and while humans may say you personally are innocent, I don’t believe it. Whatever lies you told those gullible false predators won’t work on me, got it, krakotl?”
I simply twitched my tail, along with a nod I picked up from human gestures to indicate my understanding. I never lied, but I doubt he’d care either way if I were to try pointing that out.
“Great. Now shut up and let me wait in peace, you—”
“Bakir, are you picking fights again?”
In my focus on the gojid, I didn’t notice the office door opening and someone stepping out of it. Said someone being another gojid, a woman, who now was looking at Bakir with frustrated look.
“What? He kept acting all friendly! I had to tell him off!” Gojid man responds, trying to excuse himself.
The gojid woman eyed me with clear suspicion before grabbing Bakir by the arm and leading him off.
“You should have just ignored him, what if you got in trouble? How will we stay together if your application gets denied for behavior?”
Bakir simply let out a frustrated grumble and led his mate? lead him out of the waiting room. Wait, out? Was he not next in queue then?
Oh. He was probably just waiting for her to be done. I see. That means I’m next. I hop off the chair and enter the office.
As expected, it’s a human. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up after seeing a venlil receptionist.
“Oh. It’s you...” The human instantly seemed disappointed as he clutched his forehead. “Come on in, have a seat, Mr. Krekos...”
I followed the order silently, sitting in clearly less elaborate chair across from the official’s desk.
“Alright. So. I won’t lie, I hoped that once you moved in with that family I wouldn’t have to deal with you but I was wrong. Medical education program, correct?”
“Uh... Yes. Once I am signed up, you won’t have to see me again though, right?”
The human grumbled.
“God, I wish. And don’t get me wrong, I know of your acquittal, but believe me when I say this, the security concerns around your constant presence are going to be my continuous headache for years to come,” he said as he started tapping something on his keyboard.
“I don’t cause any trouble. I... I never wanted to be a part of it...”
“I’m not talking about security measures against you. I’m talking about your security. Do you know how many calls I had redirected to me today about potential ‘loose war criminal’ in town? Way too many. But nevermind that. So. The program. So far we’ve got three classes shaping up, engineering, social sciences and medical. And there’s single-digit participant count in each. You’re in luck because three out of five medical course participants are from the local camp, the others will relocate here and you won’t have to move or study remotely.”
“That’s... good? Are they all also...”
“Yes, they’re all aliens too, it’s all about easing you guys in with alien-only classes. To see how your education compares and how we should approach integration in future. Anyway...” he pulled out a piece of paper as well as a pen, pushing it towards me, “Your waiver. Sign it and you’re in.”
I wasn’t stupid enough to sign it blindly, so I took out my visual translator. Human rolled his eyes in exasperation, but didn’t say anything so I ignored him as I actually read the clauses of the document. And... it seemed normal. It explained that I’d be enrolling in special nonstandard class, that I’d be obliged to be respectful to all classmates and educators regardless of their species, extra clauses regarding forbidding anti-predator rhetoric... Basically don’t insult the humans or else you’re out. Got it.
Pen was a bit annoying to pick up with how thin it was compared to Federation average writing implement, but once I had it, I quickly put my signature down. The moment I was done, the human official snatched the piece of paper away from me and put it into a small stack on table behind him. I assume that’s Bakir’s and his mate’s waivers there.
“That’s that. You’re free to go, I’ll send details to your email or whatever it is interstellar version of it is called when we have concrete schedule, but we’re looking to start about two weeks from now. On the way out, tell the next person out there to come in if there’s any.”
“W-Wait!”
Before the human could return to tapping at the computer, something inside me compelled me to speak out. He actually looked back at me in surprise too, like he didn’t expect that. To be honest, neither did I, but I guess now’s better time than ever...
“I... needed to ask something. I didn’t know where, or who to ask, but... I h-heard there were... More cattle releases. From the... a-arxur. And... my father was on Nishtal when the raid happened, s-so...”
The human sighed, dipping their head. Oh, Inatala, I am stupid to ask them that, of course they don’t care and want nothing to do with it.
“Give me a minute. Your biometrics are already in the database, so it should be a quick thing to look it up.”
Huh? Wait, is he actually looking it up? Is it as easy as tapping a few more keyboard buttons?
“...sorry to say, no close DNA matches among the entries that we have. I will say it’s possible there are still people not yet put into database, or even medically processed, so I’ll put a notification in for if matches show up, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I’m sorry for your loss.”
...it was a vain hope anyway. I even basically accepted his death already anyway, why did I even ask? I knew it, I knew he’sbeen killed and torn apart and devoured by the arxur just like we deserve for all we have done.
“I see. Th-thank you.”
I get down from the chair and step out of the office, not even glancing at the human at the desk again. I still don’t even know their name, but it doesn’t matter. I accepted it. I am not torn up about itunlike him.
With that done, my business is finished. Checking local time, I still have a bit to go before I am supposed to meet up with Lena again, so once I am out of the building, I just begin wandering the streets. Getting lost isn’t among my concerns thanks to navigation applications on my pad and I could use something to distract my thoughts. And my thoughts trying to push in would, in turn, distract me from constant gazing of predatory eyes. It just works out like that.
As I walk down the street, I avoid actual eye contact with humans staring me down, instead actually looking around the town. Architecture is surprisingly nondescript. It’s definitely no Federation urban center, but with a bit more technology and cleanliness, it could pass as a decent town on a world of one of less influential species.
There was even a park! A park! A year ago the idea of a predator relaxing in a park would have been completely laughable. Now I was wandering into a park made by predators, for predators, to relax there myself. Or try to at least. Despite there being no predator eyes constantly staring down at me among the pathways, there were other reminders of my bleak situation. Such as all the trees being so alien. Sure, the shape was tree-like and colors were close, but one look in detail and it’s clear those are not trees from home. Some are too short, others have wrong leaf shapes, bark color is just off...
And then there’s the birds. Krakotl cities don’t usually have birds living there, but over today I’ve seen these small blue-grey birds all over, flying around, sitting on power lines, scavenging near trash cans. Completely unafraid of predators all around, with said predators just passing by, ignoring the stupid prey in turn. Birds back on Nishtal always took off at first sign of anything larger than them. It’s basic survival instinct. Though I should know by now, that on this planet, birds don’t really have that.
You included.
In my idle musings, I wound up walking deeper into the park, following the direction I saw a small group of town birds fly. Curiosity to see where they were flying was leading me on, and although I was tempted to take flight myself now that there was nobody looking, I suspected doing so would change that and draw attention. Streets weren’t that far away, after all.
Following general direction of the small group I saw fly earlier led me through the park pathways to a small opening, a circular area lined with benches, though only one was occupied. A single human sitting on the bench and at his feet there was an entire flock of the town birds. The human seemed to be holding a plastic bag containing a loaf of some sort inside. Regularly, human would reach inside and take out a piece of that loaf, crunching it up with their spindly fingers and throwing it down into the chaotic mass of birds for them to eat. Scene was bizarre, to say the least, though not too unlike what I’ve experienced at the cattle farm.
Whenever food is there for those bloated beasts is present, they swarm it ravenously, even though it’s clear they are not starving, eager to fill themselves to excess. I was concerned that they were being rationed and kept weak when I first learned that I should only give them a specific minimum amount of food twice a day, but after seeing their reactions to it, how much they keep gorging on the pasture, and how obese they get even with the limited nutrition, I believe it is correct to prevent those things from getting more food than necessary. Maybe it’s because they were kept for their egg-laying that they weren’t allowed to keep gorging? I imagine any creature being kept to harvest its flesh would be allowed to fatten itself up for sake of predator’s hunger.
Even now, this man was herding these birds together, feeding them as they fought and shoved for crumbs of the loaf. I suppose it makes sense that parks, places where peaceful animals can have refuge in what is otherwise a bustling city, would be a place where predators can raise cattle in an environment where it can thrive. Even now I could see more birds flying in, gathering around for the feeding. Maybe that’s why they are tolerated on the streets, because they haven’t been fattened sufficiently.
“You want some?”
Human growling snapped me out of my musings and forced me to realize that I’ve been standing out in the open as I observed and contemplated the scene. Abruptness of coming back to reality did affect my ability to respond articulately.
“Huh?”
“You were standing there staring at me feeding the birds for a while, and while I’m not good at reading alien expressions, you did seem enraptured. So, uh...” the human took a large rectangular chunk of the loaf out and outstretched it in my general direction, “do you want some?”
He... He sees me as one of the meat birds!
“I’m not one of your cattle!” I yelled, not caring for agitating it. I had to make it known that I was one of the accepted ones.
The human stared at me for a bit before starting to laugh with its barky noises.
“Hahah... You thought that? Hahaha... God... You guys... Never... Hah! The weirdest! Hahaha!”
He just kept laughing and laughing, as my fear was replaced with confusion and then frustration.
“What’s so funny?!”
“You aliens... Hah... It never gets old. You think I’m raising pigeons for meat? Really? God... That’s just... Hahah...” Human takes some time to wipe his face and recover from the laughing fit. “No! Of course I’m not. They’re pigeons! Who eats pigeons? Oh, well, maybe French—Actually I shouldn’t say that but—Uh. Answer is no. They’re not my birds and I’m not feeding them for meat.”
While I had many questions in regards to things the human just said, I decided to get answer to the main one before proceding further.
“Then why are you feeding them? For someone else to eat?”
“No! I feed them just to feed them. They don’t get much to eat just scavenging scraps and trash, so I just. You know. Occasionally feed them. Especially when bread gets a tad stale and I don’t want to eat it, but also don’t want to let it get moldy.” He took another piece out and crushed it in his hand, before throwing the crumbs to the birds. Indeed, that was human bread I grew familiar with over my time with Lena and Reginald, not fresh, but far from bad. “So. You want some?” he asked again, shaking the large piece he offered me again.
I hesitated. Refusing a gift offered was considered very rude in many cultures, and it clearly was just human bread. I had it before, it’s nothing too special. So, with healthy dose of hesitation, I approach the human’s outstretched hand. As I come closer, the flock of dirty birds at my feet splits and moves further away, though remaining focused on pile of crumbs. So they have some semblance of avoiding creatures larger than them. It just only applies when they are in grabbing reach. I could just lunge and take hold of a few right now! What stupid birds.
Why am I thinking about that? It’s predatory.
Once within reach, I extend my wing and grasp the piece of loaf with a claw. It was just slightly crusty. I’m pretty sure Lena once ate a loaf that was crunchier than one I was handed. Perhaps it’s a different type of bread from one she usually used?
The human gave a few slaps to the spot on the bench beside him. My legs were rather aching from excess of walking I did today. Krakotl were built for flight after all. Still, when I hopped onto the bench, I did it on the very edge, perching as far away from the human as possible. Once my legs felt relaxed, I turned my attention to the bread in my wingclaw.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a bun, I heard bread’s safe for you. I always buy brioche in whole packs, but I keep getting a lot and then not eating any. And once they’re no longer soft and fresh they’re no good for me, so I feed it to the birds,” human explains, crushing up more crumbs and tossing them in front of him to celebration of the hungry flock. “Guess today it’s not just pigeons though,” he adds with a laugh.
It really does seem like normal piece of bread and looking at where it was torn from larger loaf, I don’t see any pieces of flesh embedded in it. After a bit of hesitation I took a peck. The taste was... not great. It had a clear bitterness to it, though it was disguised by what otherwise was normal flavor of bread, if sweeter than what I’m used to. Yeah, sweeter yet more bitter bread. Perhaps some humans enjoy the bitterness?
“Heh, I knew it’d work for ya. Worked for those guys,” the human happily kept tossing more and more crumbs to the birds. “Name’s Bob by the way. What about you?”
“...why are you doing this?” I asked, incredulous at the attitude this human is showing.
“Well, if you mean asking you, it’s because that’s a polite thing to do, ain’t it? And if you mean feeding the birds... Well. It feels nice. I know some of you guys still aren’t really accepting it, but we do feel bad when we see others struggle. Empathy and all.” Human takes a pause, looking at the swarming birds. “And yeah, krakotl and whatnot. I heard that there is one at local shelter, and if you were there, well. You’re not one of the bad ones, I bet.”
Empathy and all... He is just feeding them because they struggle to feed themselves within the city. Not because they are useful or delicious. I went past several small flocks of these birds today and the only things I felt were contempt at their stupidity and disgust at their visible lack of hygiene. Even animal should know how to groom itself, after all. And not once have I felt any strong pity towards them, despite it being obvious that in this predator-filled town, they probably survive only on meager scraps from their tables, with no vegetation to be seen outside this park.
Why didn’t I feel pity? Why didn’t I feel bad for them? Am I losing my empathy? Am I more of a predator than an actual predator?
I bite at the piece of bread aggressively. The flavor is bitter, but it feels right. A feeling creature would have better food, and I scarcely qualify as one anymore. If I had any decency left, I’d ask for travel to closest herbivore world and get myself institutionalized in a Predator Disease facility for everyone’s sake. If even humans feel more compassion than me, then what am I?
A monster that shouldn’t be around people.
Bitter taste burns my throat as I swallow a large chunk and realize I’m done with the piece I was handed. Uncertain on when that happened I looked up at human in confusion. He was just smiling back at me, thankfully without showing teeth.
“Heh. I thought you’d take a while pecking that bun apart, but you demolished it. So, uh, gonna tell me your name, or?”
“Krekos.” I answer absentmindedly. Realization that this predator was showing more compassion than me was still shocking, so I didn’t process that I just gave him my name.
“Nice to meetcha! But, just to make sure, you’re a girl, right? I, uh, have the translator, but still not good at alien gender thing.”
“What?! Of course not! I am a man! Why do people keep assuming I am a woman?!”
The gall! Those humans really do lack any senses at all! How are they even predators with eyes so blind?!
“Hah! Relax, man, it’s hard to tell with birds. Plus, you’re all blue and... You know. Pretty.” The human gestures at me! Gestures!
“I’ll- I’ll have you know, majority of krakotl are blue!”
“Yeah! That’s what makes it hard. All of you look all bright and colorful. And when I see a bright and colorful bird, my brain just goes ‘girl bird’. But don’t worry, I know better now with you.”
I couldn’t even manage out a response beyond an offended squawk at that. I opened my beak, prepared to launch into a calm and reasonable explanation, but a ping from my pad interrupted that train of thoughts. I quickly checked it to see a message from Lena asking where I am and that she’s ready to pick me up.
“Finally... I’ll be going now, human.”
“Just call me Bob, but sure, bud. Ever need someone to talk to, I visit this park regularly enough. And I bring bread regularly too.”
The human waved at me as I hopped off the bench and rushed towards the park entrance, while sending the location pin to Lena.
I didn’t have to wait too long there before the familiar looking vehicle arrived. I quickly approached, escaping the stares from humans passing by. Today has left me exhausted. Just rushing to the entrance left me short-breathed and at this point all the staring made me feel sick. Idea of coming back to my little nest in the attic of the house never felt more appealing. I climbed into the back seat of her vehicle, letting myself sprawl on the soft cushions. I felt exhausted and still short-breathed.
“So, I won’t ask about the therapy, privacy and everything, but what about that visit to the shelter? Did you get approved for education program?” Lena asked, starting to drive along the streets, not even turning her head towards me.
“Yeah... They said they’ll... Send schedule soon...”
Speaking was surprisingly hard. I think I overworked myself with all the walking today. I tried to take one extra deep breath only to be sent into a coughing fit. I let it happen but after a few coughs I realized it wasn’t stopping... I tried to force myself to stop the coughs, but taking a breath inbetween wheezes and coughs felt impossible.
“You alright back there—Shit!”
I saw that car suddenly veered and even felt something lurch as Lena parked on the side of the road, but for some reason I didn’t feel like I stopped moving even after we were still. I was still floating forward, carried by my fit of ragged breaths. Vision started going blurry as I saw Lena’s huge form looming over me, having entered the back of the vehicle.
“What did you even eat? Epipen, where’s your epipen?!”
Her voice rings a bit too much in my ears as I struggle to respond between breaths.
“My... what...?”
“You had one in your—Fuck! Hang on!”
Her shadow disappeared as she rushed back into her seat. I tilted my head to look over and saw her begin driving again, as she took her communicator out. Or at least I assume that’s what she did. Everything is growing faint to see.
“I am bringing an alien over. Allergic reaction, severe, get prepped. No, I don’t need an ambulance because I’m already on the way! Just find an alien expert and be ready!”
She seems angry... I wonder why. Allergic reaction? I haven’t eaten anything weird, have I? Maybe it’s just Inatala’s wrath finally striking me down for all the crimes against the teachings. I wish I actually knew them... Would be nice to at least know specific tenets I broke. All of them if I had to guess...
Lena is saying something again, but I barely hear it. I think she’s addressing me. Maybe she’s asking if she can eat me when I die? I would allow her. She’s nice enough to deserve my life.
More than I do by now.
Her voice keeps ringing, but my translator seems to no longer keep up. My lungs are on fire, and my throat keeps trying to grab more air and failing. And despite it all, I just feel weak. And tired. The edges of my vision grow dark and darkness quickly spreads, taking everything over, and delivering onto me peace at last...
[Memory stream interrupted. Cause: Loss of consciousness. Fast forwarding transcription to next point of consciousness.]
First thing I felt upon waking up is pain. Like everything inside me was stabbing everything else inside of me.
Second thing I felt upon waking up was disappointment at realization that I couldn’t even die properly. Is Inatala’s smite not strong enough to overcome modern medicine?
Third thing I felt upon waking up was hunger. Intense and ravenous. I don’t remember feeling that hungry ever before in my life, to the point where for a bit I was afraid I finally awakened my predator instinct and bloodlust.
Fourth thing I felt upon waking up was queasiness. That came as result of momentary consideration that I’d have to subsist on flesh now that my bloodlust has awakened and made me feel like puking. Except, of course, I was so hungry I just gagged instead.
Finally, I dared to open my eyes and look around. Seems like a hospital, though scale of equipment makes it obvious I’m in a human hospital. I can see that it’s already dark outside through the window, and the only light is the artificial one. Other than me, there’s only one other person in the room, sitting in a chair and scrolling through her pad with what seems like anxiety in her body language. That’s Lena.
I tried to shift a bit and take a better look around without disturbing her, but moving reminded me of how much my insides hurt and caused me to let out a groan, which instantly got her attention. She, in turn stared at me, before stepping to the door and beckoning someone from outside to come in. Quickly, she was joined by another human in a labcoat. Great.
“Ah. The patient is awake. You shouldn’t try talking, just nod or shake your head for now. Well, first of all, I’d like to congratulate you, young man. If not for your host’s speed, things might have been much worse. As it stands, you suffered no permanent damage as result of the allergic reaction, although the reaction was surprisingly severe.”
The doctor paused as if waiting for me to react. I felt too tired and pained to actually think about what he said, so I just nodded.
“Alright. So, obviously, you should carry an epipen on you at all times, the shelter should provide them for free. I believe they have but you didn’t realize what it’s for? Well, now you know. You were given an IV but we can’t really feed you after flushing your digestive tract, so you’ll need to bear with it until morning. By then you should be good to go, all you really need is rest and after that, a good meal. Don’t worry, no contaminants or ‘flesh’, we have our hospital food adapted for alien—”
“So, did you figure out what caused the reactions? Another doctor said they’d run a test.” Lena interrupted the doctor’s explanation. That was surprisingly rude for someone who should know medical command chains.
“Ah, that. Best we could gather it was some bread with a ton of animal protein in it. Pretty sure it was brioche, and that has a lot of eggs in it, so—”
You did it, you committed the worst sin, you consumed something made out of eggs.
I vomited. Somehow. There were no chunks or slush, just a small drizzle of stomach acid, but I had to expel something after that revelation. Even if none of that horrific bread actually was digested by me properly, the very fact that I consumed it... I vomited again. My throat burns and my insides hurt even more, but the nausea is receding somewhat.
As I refocus my senses, I see the doctor standing a good distance away, while Lena is wiping the aftermath of my attempt at vomiting with a towel.
“I think that’s a good sign that patient needs some rest,” human doctor suggested, motioning towards the door. “Now that he’s awake, we shouldn’t have to make any more exceptions for you to stay here.”
Lena nodded at him and turned back to me.
“Don’t worry, Krekos, I’ll come pick you up in the morning. You can explain then how the hell you even got your hands, or, well, wings on that stupid bread, and you’re also definitely getting a lecture on allergy safety, got it?”
Her stern tone. She isn’t messing around. Still even if I wanted to show more submission and try placating her, best I could manage is another weak nod. My throat hurt too much.
“Alright. Have a good night and don’t agitate yourself.” Lena said, as she stepped out of the room. The doctor simply nodded at me, before turning the lights off and following after, leaving me alone in the darkness of the hospital room.
I simply did my best to not think about the egg bread or the pain in my stomach, and focus on how exhausted I felt despite just waking up. Yeah. More rest sounds nice... Even if I am laying sprawled rather than properly nested... A rest sounds nice.
...hopefully Reginald was notified of me not returning tonight and remembered to herd the cattle for the night. I didn’t care for them, but I did care for them being my responsibility.
Just another thing to fail at.
As tiredness slowly took over me, I managed to slip into sleep once more, this time without suffocating to death. Yeah, this is definitely a much nicer way to pass out... Why did I even think otherwise...?
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Big thank you to NoP community for being great!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Date [standardized human time]: May 5th, 2137
I took a step out of the human ‘therapist’s office and out into the lobby and slowly breathed in. I have done it. I have endured almost an hour of time alone in room with a stranger predator without visibly panicking while also answering their incessant questioning. It was surprisingly tame, in the end, and I expected it to be worse for many different reasons.
I suppose I have to admit, idea of some equivalent of Predator Disease science among sapient predators was something I entertained since as early as I have just learned about the arxur. It always made sense to me that a sapient bloodthirsty monster would have ways of finding those who show empathy, kindness and other traits naturally inherent to prey species. Of course, voicing those thoughts got me screened for PD myself at the time, probably because it was rather weird for a hatchling in early school years to think so much about predator society, but results came back clear and I discarded the stupid thoughts at the time. Yet with arrival of the humans and their own society, I found out I was correct.
While on the ride to the session with Lena, I took the time to learn a bit more using the internet and found out that humanity did have its own medical science of the mind, and apparently they found different ways of solving the issues related to it. The methods that we use appear outdated to them, because they last used them two centuries ago! I suppose it’s far from first time a species develops radically ahead in one field, while staying behind in others, just look at zurulians. And yet, before I could learn more details about modern practices of that science, I was already in front of the office with promise to be picked up in three hours.
I was prepared for the screening, shoving away any empathy I had into far corners of my mind, channeling the small figments of rage and frustration forward and, of course, trying to imitate some sense of bloodlust. Except it seems like this was not a session that thorough, because instead of being screened, I was just interrogated about my past. I can only assume it’s the whiplash from what I was expecting to the mundanity of what happened that led to it feeling so easy, compared to last time I was being interrogated. And she didn’t even ask any strategic questions, although that’s likely due to the fact that with war already won by humans, there is no point in it.
Instead Dr. Cathaway asked more about what I’m ‘worried’ about. Obviously, I didn’t mention anything related to my natural instinctual fear of being around humans, but she picked up on that anyway. I don’t think she once looked directly at me throughout the time of the session, which was extremely welcome when it comes to human interaction. And because I wasn’t stupid enough to talk about how I mostly wanted to go back home and as far away from humans as possible for rest of my life, I talked about the more mundane worries that wouldn’t make me seem undesirable to keep around. Like concerns I have about chickens. Not the predator stalking them, or the bullying among them, moreso their... General existence. And also concerns about my upcoming attempt to restart my education.
It was surprisingly easy to talk to a human when they’re not constantly staring you down and actually react to your body language. Lena did mention this therapist worked with other refugees, but I did not expect a human to be able to grasp it. By the end of the session I almost forgot that doctor was a human at all.
And when the hour was up, she said she was glad I opened up. Did I? I don’t think I did. Maybe I should have been less talkative because she promised to be more ready for next time and have something prepared just for me. I wonder what she could mean. Bringing proper brain scan equipment? I doubt that, our further sessions were to be done remotely after all, it was in-person only for the first one. Maybe she caught onto me not saying everything? But I am very good at hiding information behind veil of meekness, I was certain.
And that brings me to now, standing in the lobby and coming to terms with reality of what I just went through and how... easy it was. Just sitting down and having a chat with a predator. If I had some doubts about it before, by now I could certainly qualify as someone sick with Predator Disease anywhere else within Federation.
Pushing aside thoughts of living in the post-war world, I stepped outside the therapist’s building and onto the street. It wasn’t too busy thankfully, but even the few humans walking about their business almost instantly turned their heads towards me the moment I was outside.
The upside of having superior peripheral vision is being able to spot all of the humans staring at me. The downside of having superior peripheral is being unable to avoid looking at humans staring at me. One of them actively bared their teeth as they walked past me, expression in clear angered scowl, making me scamper out of the way. To avoid gathering any more unwanted predator attention, I start walking towards my next destination, doing my best to ignore the fact that any human that’s not staring down into their device is staring directly at me with furrowed brows and a sneer.
I quickened my pace, suppressing instinct to take flight. While it would not break any human rules for me to take to the sky, back when I still lived at the refugee camp, I was advised strongly against it due to how much attention I could draw. Although I’m not too sure it can get much worse than the attention I am receiving now...
There is a reason that I am to meet Lena later. Both of us had our own business here in town after all. She needed to buy some supplies in preparation for her son’s arrival, while I, in addition to the first visit to the therapist, needed to take a visit and register in-person at the camp for my application to proceed. I don’t understand what is it with humans and needing to personally stare someone down before they are willing to deal with you. First the therapist insisting first session must be in person and only later ones being online, then filling out online application for education only to be asked to do that again physically. Actually, is it a predator thing, or is it just a primitive thing? I think I heard something about yotul strongly preferring in-person dealings over remote too.
“Out of the way, shitbird!”
Sudden yell snapped me out of those thoughts, as I remembered where I was and scampered out of the way of the human in front of me. The street had more than enough space, this one could have just stepped to the side... But I guess that’s not the point to make here.
The human kept the eye contact as they kept walking down in opposite direction. I could hear them muttering something that sounded like human curses, but the sound was too incoherent for my translator to pick up. Abandoning my musings about cultural aspects of primitive societies, I focused on the road, intent on giving any further humans along the way a wider berth.
That’s what they warned me about when I still lived at the camp and why the only time I stepped foot outside of it was when I was responding to the job offer. That I personally would likely be a target for harassment and shouldn’t be alone. Well, not like anyone at the camp was willing to escort me even if I had wanted to explore the town. And while Lena and Reginald showed willingness, they were busy and it’s not like I could ask them unless it was already along the way, like today was for Lena.
The rest of the walk was thankfully devoid of more human run-ins, although definitely not devoid of every human passing by shamelessly staring me down. Any sense of calm I felt after meeting with Dr. Cathaway was as good as gone by time I reached the administrative building by the refugee camp.
The receptionist, surprisingly but thankfully, was a venlil who dismissively pointed me down the hall. I found the correct office quickly, but seems like there’s already a bit of a line there. Waiting outside of it in one of waiting chair sat a gojid, tapping idly at his holopad to pass time. I was glad for non-human company even if experience told me this isn’t likely to be the friendliest interaction, so I sat next to him. He, in turn, only acknowledged me for a moment before his spines bristled in frustration and he returned his attention back to his device.
Still, I knew I was safe from more physical forms of harassment while here, so I decided to push my luck. After all, if he’s here, he must be part of the education program too. I wonder what sort of course he’s going for. Well, I should try the conversation at least.
“Uhm. Good day. My name is—”
“I already know your name, deserter,” gojid responds with an aggressive grumble in his voice. Well, this isn’t off to the best start.
I suppose he’s one of the ones that supported extermination, if he’s calling me deserter and not traitor? And it kind of makes sense that I’d be known at the camp. It was mostly the gojid that decided to stay for one reason or another even after there were new settlement opportunities provided. There were also a few people from other worlds that opposed humans, like tilfish and harchen. But krakotl? I was the only one, and it was made clear to everyone that I’ve gone through human justice system and came out clear.
But I wasn’t going to give up on small talk so easily.
“Then you have me at disadvantage...” I trailed off, waiting for him to give me his name.
“...Bakir. What’s it to you, Krekos?”
The way he said my name was almost dripping with contempt. I felt temptation to stop attempting friendly talk, but this is first time I’ve seen a non-predator in weeks, and being able to chat even with unfriendly face was something I’ve been craving for a while.
“Nice to meet you, Bakir! I just wanted to get to know you you. We’re both in education program, so we could end up studying together. It’s good to know potential fellow students.”
Gojid’s spines visibly twitched. I found myself sinking into my feathers as I realized I was pushing a bit too hard.
“I fucking hope not. Listen, I get you’re trying to act all friendly, but I simply don’t care. I’m glad I wasn’t in one of the camps on other side of the world that you lot vaporized along with the human cities,” Bakir put his pad aside and started leaning towards me, actively staring at me head on, like a predator would, as he continued and pointed his claw at me, “and while humans may say you personally are innocent, I don’t believe it. Whatever lies you told those gullible false predators won’t work on me, got it, krakotl?”
I simply twitched my tail, along with a nod I picked up from human gestures to indicate my understanding. I never lied, but I doubt he’d care either way if I were to try pointing that out.
“Great. Now shut up and let me wait in peace, you—”
“Bakir, are you picking fights again?”
In my focus on the gojid, I didn’t notice the office door opening and someone stepping out of it. Said someone being another gojid, a woman, who now was looking at Bakir with frustrated look.
“What? He kept acting all friendly! I had to tell him off!” Gojid man responds, trying to excuse himself.
The gojid woman eyed me with clear suspicion before grabbing Bakir by the arm and leading him off.
“You should have just ignored him, what if you got in trouble? How will we stay together if your application gets denied for behavior?”
Bakir simply let out a frustrated grumble and led his mate? lead him out of the waiting room. Wait, out? Was he not next in queue then?
Oh. He was probably just waiting for her to be done. I see. That means I’m next. I hop off the chair and enter the office.
As expected, it’s a human. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up after seeing a venlil receptionist.
“Oh. It’s you...” The human instantly seemed disappointed as he clutched his forehead. “Come on in, have a seat, Mr. Krekos...”
I followed the order silently, sitting in clearly less elaborate chair across from the official’s desk.
“Alright. So. I won’t lie, I hoped that once you moved in with that family I wouldn’t have to deal with you but I was wrong. Medical education program, correct?”
“Uh... Yes. Once I am signed up, you won’t have to see me again though, right?”
The human grumbled.
“God, I wish. And don’t get me wrong, I know of your acquittal, but believe me when I say this, the security concerns around your constant presence are going to be my continuous headache for years to come,” he said as he started tapping something on his keyboard.
“I don’t cause any trouble. I... I never wanted to be a part of it...”
“I’m not talking about security measures against you. I’m talking about your security. Do you know how many calls I had redirected to me today about potential ‘loose war criminal’ in town? Way too many. But nevermind that. So. The program. So far we’ve got three classes shaping up, engineering, social sciences and medical. And there’s single-digit participant count in each. You’re in luck because three out of five medical course participants are from the local camp, the others will relocate here and you won’t have to move or study remotely.”
“That’s... good? Are they all also...”
“Yes, they’re all aliens too, it’s all about easing you guys in with alien-only classes. To see how your education compares and how we should approach integration in future. Anyway...” he pulled out a piece of paper as well as a pen, pushing it towards me, “Your waiver. Sign it and you’re in.”
I wasn’t stupid enough to sign it blindly, so I took out my visual translator. Human rolled his eyes in exasperation, but didn’t say anything so I ignored him as I actually read the clauses of the document. And... it seemed normal. It explained that I’d be enrolling in special nonstandard class, that I’d be obliged to be respectful to all classmates and educators regardless of their species, extra clauses regarding forbidding anti-predator rhetoric... Basically don’t insult the humans or else you’re out. Got it.
Pen was a bit annoying to pick up with how thin it was compared to Federation average writing implement, but once I had it, I quickly put my signature down. The moment I was done, the human official snatched the piece of paper away from me and put it into a small stack on table behind him. I assume that’s Bakir’s and his mate’s waivers there.
“That’s that. You’re free to go, I’ll send details to your email or whatever it is interstellar version of it is called when we have concrete schedule, but we’re looking to start about two weeks from now. On the way out, tell the next person out there to come in if there’s any.”
“W-Wait!”
Before the human could return to tapping at the computer, something inside me compelled me to speak out. He actually looked back at me in surprise too, like he didn’t expect that. To be honest, neither did I, but I guess now’s better time than ever...
“I... needed to ask something. I didn’t know where, or who to ask, but... I h-heard there were... More cattle releases. From the... a-arxur. And... my father was on Nishtal when the raid happened, s-so...”
The human sighed, dipping their head. Oh, Inatala, I am stupid to ask them that, of course they don’t care and want nothing to do with it.
“Give me a minute. Your biometrics are already in the database, so it should be a quick thing to look it up.”
Huh? Wait, is he actually looking it up? Is it as easy as tapping a few more keyboard buttons?
“...sorry to say, no close DNA matches among the entries that we have. I will say it’s possible there are still people not yet put into database, or even medically processed, so I’ll put a notification in for if matches show up, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I’m sorry for your loss.”
...it was a vain hope anyway. I even basically accepted his death already anyway, why did I even ask? I knew it, I knew he’s
“I see. Th-thank you.”
I get down from the chair and step out of the office, not even glancing at the human at the desk again. I still don’t even know their name, but it doesn’t matter. I accepted it. I am not torn up about it
With that done, my business is finished. Checking local time, I still have a bit to go before I am supposed to meet up with Lena again, so once I am out of the building, I just begin wandering the streets. Getting lost isn’t among my concerns thanks to navigation applications on my pad and I could use something to distract my thoughts. And my thoughts trying to push in would, in turn, distract me from constant gazing of predatory eyes. It just works out like that.
As I walk down the street, I avoid actual eye contact with humans staring me down, instead actually looking around the town. Architecture is surprisingly nondescript. It’s definitely no Federation urban center, but with a bit more technology and cleanliness, it could pass as a decent town on a world of one of less influential species.
There was even a park! A park! A year ago the idea of a predator relaxing in a park would have been completely laughable. Now I was wandering into a park made by predators, for predators, to relax there myself. Or try to at least. Despite there being no predator eyes constantly staring down at me among the pathways, there were other reminders of my bleak situation. Such as all the trees being so alien. Sure, the shape was tree-like and colors were close, but one look in detail and it’s clear those are not trees from home. Some are too short, others have wrong leaf shapes, bark color is just off...
And then there’s the birds. Krakotl cities don’t usually have birds living there, but over today I’ve seen these small blue-grey birds all over, flying around, sitting on power lines, scavenging near trash cans. Completely unafraid of predators all around, with said predators just passing by, ignoring the stupid prey in turn. Birds back on Nishtal always took off at first sign of anything larger than them. It’s basic survival instinct. Though I should know by now, that on this planet, birds don’t really have that.
In my idle musings, I wound up walking deeper into the park, following the direction I saw a small group of town birds fly. Curiosity to see where they were flying was leading me on, and although I was tempted to take flight myself now that there was nobody looking, I suspected doing so would change that and draw attention. Streets weren’t that far away, after all.
Following general direction of the small group I saw fly earlier led me through the park pathways to a small opening, a circular area lined with benches, though only one was occupied. A single human sitting on the bench and at his feet there was an entire flock of the town birds. The human seemed to be holding a plastic bag containing a loaf of some sort inside. Regularly, human would reach inside and take out a piece of that loaf, crunching it up with their spindly fingers and throwing it down into the chaotic mass of birds for them to eat. Scene was bizarre, to say the least, though not too unlike what I’ve experienced at the cattle farm.
Whenever food is there for those bloated beasts is present, they swarm it ravenously, even though it’s clear they are not starving, eager to fill themselves to excess. I was concerned that they were being rationed and kept weak when I first learned that I should only give them a specific minimum amount of food twice a day, but after seeing their reactions to it, how much they keep gorging on the pasture, and how obese they get even with the limited nutrition, I believe it is correct to prevent those things from getting more food than necessary. Maybe it’s because they were kept for their egg-laying that they weren’t allowed to keep gorging? I imagine any creature being kept to harvest its flesh would be allowed to fatten itself up for sake of predator’s hunger.
Even now, this man was herding these birds together, feeding them as they fought and shoved for crumbs of the loaf. I suppose it makes sense that parks, places where peaceful animals can have refuge in what is otherwise a bustling city, would be a place where predators can raise cattle in an environment where it can thrive. Even now I could see more birds flying in, gathering around for the feeding. Maybe that’s why they are tolerated on the streets, because they haven’t been fattened sufficiently.
“You want some?”
Human growling snapped me out of my musings and forced me to realize that I’ve been standing out in the open as I observed and contemplated the scene. Abruptness of coming back to reality did affect my ability to respond articulately.
“Huh?”
“You were standing there staring at me feeding the birds for a while, and while I’m not good at reading alien expressions, you did seem enraptured. So, uh...” the human took a large rectangular chunk of the loaf out and outstretched it in my general direction, “do you want some?”
He... He sees me as one of the meat birds!
“I’m not one of your cattle!” I yelled, not caring for agitating it. I had to make it known that I was one of the accepted ones.
The human stared at me for a bit before starting to laugh with its barky noises.
“Hahah... You thought that? Hahaha... God... You guys... Never... Hah! The weirdest! Hahaha!”
He just kept laughing and laughing, as my fear was replaced with confusion and then frustration.
“What’s so funny?!”
“You aliens... Hah... It never gets old. You think I’m raising pigeons for meat? Really? God... That’s just... Hahah...” Human takes some time to wipe his face and recover from the laughing fit. “No! Of course I’m not. They’re pigeons! Who eats pigeons? Oh, well, maybe French—Actually I shouldn’t say that but—Uh. Answer is no. They’re not my birds and I’m not feeding them for meat.”
While I had many questions in regards to things the human just said, I decided to get answer to the main one before proceding further.
“Then why are you feeding them? For someone else to eat?”
“No! I feed them just to feed them. They don’t get much to eat just scavenging scraps and trash, so I just. You know. Occasionally feed them. Especially when bread gets a tad stale and I don’t want to eat it, but also don’t want to let it get moldy.” He took another piece out and crushed it in his hand, before throwing the crumbs to the birds. Indeed, that was human bread I grew familiar with over my time with Lena and Reginald, not fresh, but far from bad. “So. You want some?” he asked again, shaking the large piece he offered me again.
I hesitated. Refusing a gift offered was considered very rude in many cultures, and it clearly was just human bread. I had it before, it’s nothing too special. So, with healthy dose of hesitation, I approach the human’s outstretched hand. As I come closer, the flock of dirty birds at my feet splits and moves further away, though remaining focused on pile of crumbs. So they have some semblance of avoiding creatures larger than them. It just only applies when they are in grabbing reach. I could just lunge and take hold of a few right now! What stupid birds.
Once within reach, I extend my wing and grasp the piece of loaf with a claw. It was just slightly crusty. I’m pretty sure Lena once ate a loaf that was crunchier than one I was handed. Perhaps it’s a different type of bread from one she usually used?
The human gave a few slaps to the spot on the bench beside him. My legs were rather aching from excess of walking I did today. Krakotl were built for flight after all. Still, when I hopped onto the bench, I did it on the very edge, perching as far away from the human as possible. Once my legs felt relaxed, I turned my attention to the bread in my wingclaw.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a bun, I heard bread’s safe for you. I always buy brioche in whole packs, but I keep getting a lot and then not eating any. And once they’re no longer soft and fresh they’re no good for me, so I feed it to the birds,” human explains, crushing up more crumbs and tossing them in front of him to celebration of the hungry flock. “Guess today it’s not just pigeons though,” he adds with a laugh.
It really does seem like normal piece of bread and looking at where it was torn from larger loaf, I don’t see any pieces of flesh embedded in it. After a bit of hesitation I took a peck. The taste was... not great. It had a clear bitterness to it, though it was disguised by what otherwise was normal flavor of bread, if sweeter than what I’m used to. Yeah, sweeter yet more bitter bread. Perhaps some humans enjoy the bitterness?
“Heh, I knew it’d work for ya. Worked for those guys,” the human happily kept tossing more and more crumbs to the birds. “Name’s Bob by the way. What about you?”
“...why are you doing this?” I asked, incredulous at the attitude this human is showing.
“Well, if you mean asking you, it’s because that’s a polite thing to do, ain’t it? And if you mean feeding the birds... Well. It feels nice. I know some of you guys still aren’t really accepting it, but we do feel bad when we see others struggle. Empathy and all.” Human takes a pause, looking at the swarming birds. “And yeah, krakotl and whatnot. I heard that there is one at local shelter, and if you were there, well. You’re not one of the bad ones, I bet.”
Empathy and all... He is just feeding them because they struggle to feed themselves within the city. Not because they are useful or delicious. I went past several small flocks of these birds today and the only things I felt were contempt at their stupidity and disgust at their visible lack of hygiene. Even animal should know how to groom itself, after all. And not once have I felt any strong pity towards them, despite it being obvious that in this predator-filled town, they probably survive only on meager scraps from their tables, with no vegetation to be seen outside this park.
I bite at the piece of bread aggressively. The flavor is bitter, but it feels right. A feeling creature would have better food, and I scarcely qualify as one anymore. If I had any decency left, I’d ask for travel to closest herbivore world and get myself institutionalized in a Predator Disease facility for everyone’s sake. If even humans feel more compassion than me, then what am I?
Bitter taste burns my throat as I swallow a large chunk and realize I’m done with the piece I was handed. Uncertain on when that happened I looked up at human in confusion. He was just smiling back at me, thankfully without showing teeth.
“Heh. I thought you’d take a while pecking that bun apart, but you demolished it. So, uh, gonna tell me your name, or?”
“Krekos.” I answer absentmindedly. Realization that this predator was showing more compassion than me was still shocking, so I didn’t process that I just gave him my name.
“Nice to meetcha! But, just to make sure, you’re a girl, right? I, uh, have the translator, but still not good at alien gender thing.”
“What?! Of course not! I am a man! Why do people keep assuming I am a woman?!”
The gall! Those humans really do lack any senses at all! How are they even predators with eyes so blind?!
“Hah! Relax, man, it’s hard to tell with birds. Plus, you’re all blue and... You know. Pretty.” The human gestures at me! Gestures!
“I’ll- I’ll have you know, majority of krakotl are blue!”
“Yeah! That’s what makes it hard. All of you look all bright and colorful. And when I see a bright and colorful bird, my brain just goes ‘girl bird’. But don’t worry, I know better now with you.”
I couldn’t even manage out a response beyond an offended squawk at that. I opened my beak, prepared to launch into a calm and reasonable explanation, but a ping from my pad interrupted that train of thoughts. I quickly checked it to see a message from Lena asking where I am and that she’s ready to pick me up.
“Finally... I’ll be going now, human.”
“Just call me Bob, but sure, bud. Ever need someone to talk to, I visit this park regularly enough. And I bring bread regularly too.”
The human waved at me as I hopped off the bench and rushed towards the park entrance, while sending the location pin to Lena.
I didn’t have to wait too long there before the familiar looking vehicle arrived. I quickly approached, escaping the stares from humans passing by. Today has left me exhausted. Just rushing to the entrance left me short-breathed and at this point all the staring made me feel sick. Idea of coming back to my little nest in the attic of the house never felt more appealing. I climbed into the back seat of her vehicle, letting myself sprawl on the soft cushions. I felt exhausted and still short-breathed.
“So, I won’t ask about the therapy, privacy and everything, but what about that visit to the shelter? Did you get approved for education program?” Lena asked, starting to drive along the streets, not even turning her head towards me.
“Yeah... They said they’ll... Send schedule soon...”
Speaking was surprisingly hard. I think I overworked myself with all the walking today. I tried to take one extra deep breath only to be sent into a coughing fit. I let it happen but after a few coughs I realized it wasn’t stopping... I tried to force myself to stop the coughs, but taking a breath inbetween wheezes and coughs felt impossible.
“You alright back there—Shit!”
I saw that car suddenly veered and even felt something lurch as Lena parked on the side of the road, but for some reason I didn’t feel like I stopped moving even after we were still. I was still floating forward, carried by my fit of ragged breaths. Vision started going blurry as I saw Lena’s huge form looming over me, having entered the back of the vehicle.
“What did you even eat? Epipen, where’s your epipen?!”
Her voice rings a bit too much in my ears as I struggle to respond between breaths.
“My... what...?”
“You had one in your—Fuck! Hang on!”
Her shadow disappeared as she rushed back into her seat. I tilted my head to look over and saw her begin driving again, as she took her communicator out. Or at least I assume that’s what she did. Everything is growing faint to see.
“I am bringing an alien over. Allergic reaction, severe, get prepped. No, I don’t need an ambulance because I’m already on the way! Just find an alien expert and be ready!”
She seems angry... I wonder why. Allergic reaction? I haven’t eaten anything weird, have I? Maybe it’s just Inatala’s wrath finally striking me down for all the crimes against the teachings. I wish I actually knew them... Would be nice to at least know specific tenets I broke. All of them if I had to guess...
Lena is saying something again, but I barely hear it. I think she’s addressing me. Maybe she’s asking if she can eat me when I die? I would allow her. She’s nice enough to deserve my life.
Her voice keeps ringing, but my translator seems to no longer keep up. My lungs are on fire, and my throat keeps trying to grab more air and failing. And despite it all, I just feel weak. And tired. The edges of my vision grow dark and darkness quickly spreads, taking everything over, and delivering onto me peace at last...
[Memory stream interrupted. Cause: Loss of consciousness. Fast forwarding transcription to next point of consciousness.]
First thing I felt upon waking up is pain. Like everything inside me was stabbing everything else inside of me.
Second thing I felt upon waking up was disappointment at realization that I couldn’t even die properly. Is Inatala’s smite not strong enough to overcome modern medicine?
Third thing I felt upon waking up was hunger. Intense and ravenous. I don’t remember feeling that hungry ever before in my life, to the point where for a bit I was afraid I finally awakened my predator instinct and bloodlust.
Fourth thing I felt upon waking up was queasiness. That came as result of momentary consideration that I’d have to subsist on flesh now that my bloodlust has awakened and made me feel like puking. Except, of course, I was so hungry I just gagged instead.
Finally, I dared to open my eyes and look around. Seems like a hospital, though scale of equipment makes it obvious I’m in a human hospital. I can see that it’s already dark outside through the window, and the only light is the artificial one. Other than me, there’s only one other person in the room, sitting in a chair and scrolling through her pad with what seems like anxiety in her body language. That’s Lena.
I tried to shift a bit and take a better look around without disturbing her, but moving reminded me of how much my insides hurt and caused me to let out a groan, which instantly got her attention. She, in turn stared at me, before stepping to the door and beckoning someone from outside to come in. Quickly, she was joined by another human in a labcoat. Great.
“Ah. The patient is awake. You shouldn’t try talking, just nod or shake your head for now. Well, first of all, I’d like to congratulate you, young man. If not for your host’s speed, things might have been much worse. As it stands, you suffered no permanent damage as result of the allergic reaction, although the reaction was surprisingly severe.”
The doctor paused as if waiting for me to react. I felt too tired and pained to actually think about what he said, so I just nodded.
“Alright. So, obviously, you should carry an epipen on you at all times, the shelter should provide them for free. I believe they have but you didn’t realize what it’s for? Well, now you know. You were given an IV but we can’t really feed you after flushing your digestive tract, so you’ll need to bear with it until morning. By then you should be good to go, all you really need is rest and after that, a good meal. Don’t worry, no contaminants or ‘flesh’, we have our hospital food adapted for alien—”
“So, did you figure out what caused the reactions? Another doctor said they’d run a test.” Lena interrupted the doctor’s explanation. That was surprisingly rude for someone who should know medical command chains.
“Ah, that. Best we could gather it was some bread with a ton of animal protein in it. Pretty sure it was brioche, and that has a lot of eggs in it, so—”
I vomited. Somehow. There were no chunks or slush, just a small drizzle of stomach acid, but I had to expel something after that revelation. Even if none of that horrific bread actually was digested by me properly, the very fact that I consumed it... I vomited again. My throat burns and my insides hurt even more, but the nausea is receding somewhat.
As I refocus my senses, I see the doctor standing a good distance away, while Lena is wiping the aftermath of my attempt at vomiting with a towel.
“I think that’s a good sign that patient needs some rest,” human doctor suggested, motioning towards the door. “Now that he’s awake, we shouldn’t have to make any more exceptions for you to stay here.”
Lena nodded at him and turned back to me.
“Don’t worry, Krekos, I’ll come pick you up in the morning. You can explain then how the hell you even got your hands, or, well, wings on that stupid bread, and you’re also definitely getting a lecture on allergy safety, got it?”
Her stern tone. She isn’t messing around. Still even if I wanted to show more submission and try placating her, best I could manage is another weak nod. My throat hurt too much.
“Alright. Have a good night and don’t agitate yourself.” Lena said, as she stepped out of the room. The doctor simply nodded at me, before turning the lights off and following after, leaving me alone in the darkness of the hospital room.
I simply did my best to not think about the egg bread or the pain in my stomach, and focus on how exhausted I felt despite just waking up. Yeah. More rest sounds nice... Even if I am laying sprawled rather than properly nested... A rest sounds nice.
...hopefully Reginald was notified of me not returning tonight and remembered to herd the cattle for the night. I didn’t care for them, but I did care for them being my responsibility.
As tiredness slowly took over me, I managed to slip into sleep once more, this time without suffocating to death. Yeah, this is definitely a much nicer way to pass out... Why did I even think otherwise...?
2024.05.01 02:00 AutoModerator NEW PLAYERS COME HERE! - Weekly Questions and Information thread - May 01, 2024
Downloads
Stable - Gaiman (Recommended)
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsExperimental (Not recommended)
Automated Installation
Catapult Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)CDDA Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)
Manual Installation
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsiOS
Compiling Guide
Controls (not up to date, controls for mobile can vary)
Helpful Guides
- Item Database
- Skill Training (Siersha - up to date for build #10626)
- Modding
- Detailed Guide (mlangsdorf)
- Quickstart Guide (DracoGriffin & AMurkin)
- Improved Text Readability (Bilb0)
- Tutorials
- Video Guide (Vormithrax)
- More Video Guide (GrandpuhTy)
- Written Guide (Pr0manTwitch)
Featured Let's Players
Individuals that are currently known for playing C:DDA. List is subject to change (maintain active and current streamers), send modmail if you'd like to be added.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
|---|---|---|
| Vormithrax | Link | Link |
| TheMurderUnicorn | Link | Link |
| TheCritsyBear | Link | Link |
| RyconRoleplays | None | Link |
| Orange01gaming | None | Link |
| nonsonogiucas | None | Link |
| GrandpuhTy | Link | Link |
Memorial
Individuals that used to play C:DDA but have gone on hiatus or stopped streaming. These are mentioned here as requested by the community for being noteworthy.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
|---|---|---|
| flakaby | Link | None |
| Pr0manTwitch | Link | None |
| CromulentArcher | None | Link |
Semi-Multiplayer - WatchCDDA.net
WatchCDDA.net is hosted by r7st and allows for semi-multiplayer ASCII version of Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead. It can be a bit confusing to get started so make sure you check out the Instructions page for more details and join that Discord to communicate while playing. Any issues need to be expressed on WatchCDDA's Discord, not the subreddit - any troubleshooting posts will be removed.- Requirements:
- WatchCDDA.net Account (set up is on Instructions page)
- SSH client (like PuTTY)
- Willingness to use ASCII (no tilesets yet)
FAQ
- How do I use this subreddit?
- Flairs? What are those?
Changelog - these posts have very informative posts regarding changes.
Fixed - these posts generally have a solution to a bug or problem.
Lastly, if you flair a post [Help Wanted] and someone answered satisfactorily, make sure to re-flair it with [Solved] so others can find the solution instead of looking through tons of posts.
- Oh no, my anti-virus says the launcher is a threat!
If you are paranoid, you can always inspect the source code yourself and build the launcher from the source code. However, you are still likely to get false positives.
- The UI is broken or weird, is this normal?
- I think the subreddit should have ... or The subreddit should change ...
2024.04.28 12:33 Forsaken-Stray Humans don't condone Warcrimes
First Story: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/NWvqelyfuL
Previous Story: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/uO5yJqXQjG
Sarion cursed continuously from the moment he read the update on galactic happenings until the "Resolution" was anchored in the dock of the Galactic Council Station. His aide turned to him and said, "Sir, we have docked and can now connect to the Intergalactic Broadcast Net. Should we contact Council Fleet Command and debrief?" Sarion waved the thought away: "Forget that, get the fleet in the hangars, get the Techies to fix up the ships, and give the crews at least a day shore leave. Also, contact the human ambassador and ask for a meeting. High Priority. I'll be in my quarters. If you get an answer, contact me immediately."
He entered his quarters and sent a short message directly to the High Speaker, just five words. 'Dealing with the human situation.' He sat down on his chair and wondered how things could have gone so wrong in a mere 3 months. Before his fleet had departed for the fringe sectors, he had noticed that the Elder Council had given out a few military contracts to shipbuilders, but he didn't believe them to be more than modernization procedures for the Abbraxian Navy, which used fairly old vessels. He never would have thought that they would start a war. With the humans no less. As the commander of a mixed-race fleet, he knew more about each species' quirks than most, and since his first human crewman, he never was able to see them as mildmannered weaklings. The mixed Council Fleet had sayings about almost every race, some were just prejudicial, but most hold true. "If you want to meet a Cop, work with a Sanleessh, if you want to find a smuggler, ask a Ractoorn and if you want to meet an ER doctor, threaten the friend of a human." Sarion recited the sayings to himself. If the Elders had only understood that.
His thoughts were interrupted by the intercom announcing a call from his aide. He opened the channel and saw her looking quite concerned when she said, "Ambassador Shore has contacted us. He would be willing to have a short Holomeeting with you." Sarion took a deep breath. "Connect us." he said and waited for her to establish the connection.
The first thing that appeared on the monitor was the deep blue eyes. Every time he had to interact with the human, those eyes gave him the chills. When the connection was fully stable, he saw that the ambassador was eating a meal. "It is very nice to see you, Fleet Admiral Sarion. I hope you don't mind me finishing my meal while we talk. I was told that the matter is of the highest importance, so I contacted you directly. Is it regarding your last pirate subjugation?" Sarion was impressed by the control the ambassador displayed. If he hadn't known the situation, he might have believed the curiosity to be genuine. It did fool the translator. "Ambassador Shore-." Sarion started but was interrupted by the human raising a hand. "Please, feel free to call me Damian. I believe we can be considered friends by now." Sarion sighed deeply, then continued. "Very well, Damian. I wish to talk about the ongoing war against the Predatory Coalition." Damian cut off a bit of meat from his plate, put it into his mouth, and answered after chewing it thoroughly. "Oh, you want to join in the culling? Truly distasteful topic, but I guess you'd be interested, considering your position. If you wish, I can give you the coordinates for the staging area of our reinforcements." Sarion could only watch him continuing to eat, unbothered by the atrocity he just uttered.
He took a moment to calm himself and asked with as much decorum he could muster. "No, I wanted to know what the Terran Federation plans to do with their civilians and prisoners of war." Damian chuckled darkly and put his hand around a bone on his plate. "That was a good joke, Sarion. But we have found that there are no civilians and we won't take any prisoners." He raised the hand and lifted up what Sarion could clearly identify as the Wing of an Avian. Damian continued, "After all, to be afforded rights, you'd first need to be considered people."
Sarion shuddered when Damian took a bite out of the wing and chewed it blissfully. After a few moments of silence, Damian looked at Sarion and noticed that his gaze was focused on the wing. "Oh, you're interested in my meal? It is a duck roast. It is my favorite type of fowl, but it is rather hard to get it up here. It's even better if it's a bit bloody." Sarion swallowed and asked to confirm, "You have destroyed a multi-race fleet and retook 4 planets from occupying armies, and you haven't taken a single prisoner? You have killed every single one?" Damian nodded. "Not one.". He couldn't contain himself any longer. "My SON was deployed on one of these planets!" Sarion burst out, almost leaping from his chair.
"Yes, on Elysion Grange. I was asked to greet you on Avan's behalf, by the way." Damian answered calmly. "And then you call me back, and you dare to f...." Sarion stopped midsentece. On his behalf? What the.. His thoughts were interrupted by Damian, who just ignored his last sentence and continued: "Seems like he was there to protect a few settlers when he met with my brother. I was told that his private security company was having a rather rough time. What with the Coalition infestation there, you see? After seeing them at work, my brother wanted to hire their company to protect Claytone Village. He's the mayor there, you know?" Sarion tried to understand what madness the ambassador was talking about, but his mind was overwhelmed by the fact that his son was alive.
Damian continued undisturbed, casually wiping his hands. "So now I'm here, with my brother asking me to find the company data so he can send a contract, but I just can't seem to find it. It is probably because the company is so new that the information isn't updated into the intergalactic database. Would you mind checking your Abbraxian access so I can send the contract?" Sarion understood the meaning of THIS question very well. "Sure, could you give me the name. Avan never told me which name he settled on before I left for my mission.". Damian smiled warmly when he answered. "No problem, let me just open the galaxymail that my brother sent me." He pulled out his communicator and opened up the system. "There it is. The name was 'Cor-Vid Combined Security'. Seems it was created on the day he left the Academy, together with his co-owner Valkin. They have quite the catchy Salespitch: "The best way to avoid getting killed is to hire a Murder.".
Sarion had to chuckle at how obviously this pitch was made by a human. "Thank you, I'll go look it up and send you the information as soon as I can." Sarion assured. Damian nodded amicably and reclined in his chair.
"Anyways, when will the Abbraxian government be able to send transports to our colonies? Because of the ongoing war, we don't have enough idle ships to return them all to Abbraxian space by ourselves." Sarion turned his head to the side in confusion but then understood the implication and answered: "Ooh. I'm not sure, but I have a meeting with the Abbraxian Elder Council later, so I will ask them. Is there anything else you want me to convey?" Even though Sarion knew that he wasn't in any danger, Damians grin still made him lose some feathers.
Sarion looked at the time display on his communicator. After a bit of convincing, the High Speaker of the council had allowed him to use the big holoroom on the Council Station for his call to Abbraxus Prime. She agreed that speed was of utmost importance in this matter. He barely had the time to arrange for his sons company to be created before she returned with the clearance documents.
He brushed down his ruffled feathers and checked his materials. This meeting would probably decide the future of his race. That it was the second meeting of this kind in one day wasn't helping him calm down. The projectors started to hum, slowly materialising 3D projections of the Elder Council in front of him. A few of them had wounds, probably from the explosion of a missile.
When they all had fully formed, the Eldest greeted him. "Fleet Admiral Sarion of Cor. You are welcomed before the Elder Council. Speak your purpose so that the Abbraxians can prosper under well deliberated guidance.", came the standard greeting from the council. Sarion gave the corresponding answer, "Thank you, Eldest. May the race prosper under your wisdom." After this, the actual meeting began.
"It is good to see you. Though I believe we would both prefer it to be under more pleasant circumstances." the Eldest said warmly. He was an old friend of the family and had led the moderate faction for many years. He was unhurt, and Damian had told him that this had been intended. "It is also good to see you healthy. And I believe you are not to blame for the unpleasant times we find ourselves in." His gaze focused accusingly on the second Elder, who was leading the hardliners. And was missing one Wing.
"Stop wasting everyones time, Admiral. State your business and leave us to debate." He snarled. Sarion smiled mockingly and said with a quiet voice, but still loud enough to be heard by every Elder, "Interesting demand, considering what brought us into this mess." Over the stiffled chuckles, he loudly procclaimed: "I come before the council bearing information regarding Humanity, as well as the words of their ambassador and my advice regarding this war. First, please look at this brief history of Humanity." He gestured, and a timetable appeared behind him. On it were multiple dates marked in different colors. "You'll find that the dates are marked by what they represent. For example, this blue date is the day the first human exited their planets atmosphere into space and returned alive. A scientific achievement. Here, we have the first contact with the Kitsun in green, followed by them meeting the Arboreans, both marked in green. diplomatic events. And the red markings show declared wars." The table was interspersed with multiple colors, but the sheer amount of red dates was staggering for the timeframe. One of the hardline Elders pointed towards the display and asked: "Those black dates, what are they?"
Sarion didn't turn around but just waved his claw, and the three black dates expanded to show timeframes. "I believe everyone remembers the Great War? The global war that lasted four years and ended when a misfired rocket resulted in a nuclear reactor exploding, filling the region with deadly radiation for many years, which started the unification of our race?" The Elders swallowed hard and looked at him with the hope that they had understood wrong. And while they did, it was only in scale. "The humans called them World Wars, and they had three of them. The smallest conflict had three times the casualties of our Great War, and two of them ended with nuclear bombs being dropped on cities." The Elders were shocked, and Sarion felt a bit satisfied when he saw the feathers that the second Elder lost.
He waited a bit for them to settle down before he continued. "These World Wars were major reasons behind the so called Geneva Convention. They were agreements that, in laymans terms, stipulated that the usage of certain weapons, strategies, and actions by or against a sentient were to be treated as warcrimes and should be punished by the international community. They also constituted that prisoners need to be taken when possible and they be treated 'humane'. They were amended multiple time to include bioweapons, gravitational weapons, militarized black holes, and all associated tactics." The second Elder interjected. "But they used a gravity weapon against the Coalition Fleet. They broke their own rules." Sarion stared daggers at the second Elder, that slowly shrunk away from his gaze. "As usual, your assessment is incorrect. After attacking their Crossed Star Vessels as well as actively starving their population, both acts forbidden in the Conventions, the Federation has officially deemed the members of the Coalition to be animals. The Convention protects all sentient beings. It does not protect animals."
As the Elders started to understand the implications, Sarion could see the blood drain from their faces, and a few started to hyperventilate. Even the Eldest looked at him fearful, his eyes pleading for a way out. "Luckily, I had a meeting with Ambassador Shore and he told me personally that I would not need to worry, as the Federation fleet did need neither my help nor the help of the Abbraxian Fleet with the culling." Confusion as thick as bunker armor filled the room. Sarion really regretted that he couldn't record this meeting.
"He also asked me when we will be able to send transport ships to pick up the civilians and Abbraxian soldiers on their colony worlds.". "Huh?" was the answer that Sarion received, and he had to try very hard to stop himself from laughing out loud. "Well, after questioning the Abbraxians, they found out that the prisoners identified as part of the Abbraxian Fleet. Since they didn't belong to the Predatory Coalition and the Federation isn't at war with the Abbraxian Great Clans, they were moved to camps on the colony worlds to await transport.". "B-But... you ... they..." one of the Elder stammered. The Eldest had already understood and laughed heartily.
"It seems that we lost in every way possible. Humanity has cornered us with only one way out, and we actually have to thank them for it." He proclaimed amused. The other Elders were surprised by the outburst of the Eldest and looked to Sarion for an explanation. "Ambassador Shore has given me the Declaration of the Terran Federation. It reads as follows: 'We, the Terran Federation, declare the signees and all members of the Predatory Coalition to be no longer worthy of the definition [Sentient Being] and will henceforth consider them animals. By this, they will be excluded from any protection afforded under the Law, the Geneva Conventions, and all Galactic Constitutions.' In other words, the Abbraxian people, being neither signees nor members of the military pact called Predatory Coalition, will still be considered sentient beings." The Elders sighed in relief, but Sarion was not finished yet. "This does not apply to the governing bodies, as they are a member of the Coalition. However, this can be easily remedied. Upon leaving the Coalition, the Elder Council would return to be only the government of the Abbraxians."
The Eldest stopped chuckling and said loudly: "Given that we don't have much of a choice, who is for leaving the Coalition?" All claws rose in unison. "Very well, Fleet Admiral of Cor, would you please inform Ambassador Shore that we thank him for the treatment of our people and that we will send our transports by the end of the week. I will inform the Coalition of our decision and the ... reasons behind it." Sarion performed the traditional bow and put his claw on the disconnect button.
Before he ended the connection, he added, "Oh and Second Elder. I believe you should be very careful in the future.". The Elder shot him an angry gaze. "Is that a threat, Admiral?" The Second Elder hissed. Sarion raised his claws innocently. "In no way, esteemed Elder. It's just that the Declaration stated signees and members. And if I remember correctly, your signature will continue to be on the Coalition Charter." The Elder fainted. Some days just end better than others, Sarion thought to himself as he cut the connection.
End of Story.
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Sarion cursed continuously from the moment he read the update on galactic happenings until the "Resolution" was anchored in the dock of the Galactic Council Station. His aide turned to him and said, "Sir, we have docked and can now connect to the Intergalactic Broadcast Net. Should we contact Council Fleet Command and debrief?" Sarion waved the thought away: "Forget that, get the fleet in the hangars, get the Techies to fix up the ships, and give the crews at least a day shore leave. Also, contact the human ambassador and ask for a meeting. High Priority. I'll be in my quarters. If you get an answer, contact me immediately."
He entered his quarters and sent a short message directly to the High Speaker, just five words. 'Dealing with the human situation.' He sat down on his chair and wondered how things could have gone so wrong in a mere 3 months. Before his fleet had departed for the fringe sectors, he had noticed that the Elder Council had given out a few military contracts to shipbuilders, but he didn't believe them to be more than modernization procedures for the Abbraxian Navy, which used fairly old vessels. He never would have thought that they would start a war. With the humans no less. As the commander of a mixed-race fleet, he knew more about each species' quirks than most, and since his first human crewman, he never was able to see them as mildmannered weaklings. The mixed Council Fleet had sayings about almost every race, some were just prejudicial, but most hold true. "If you want to meet a Cop, work with a Sanleessh, if you want to find a smuggler, ask a Ractoorn and if you want to meet an ER doctor, threaten the friend of a human." Sarion recited the sayings to himself. If the Elders had only understood that.
His thoughts were interrupted by the intercom announcing a call from his aide. He opened the channel and saw her looking quite concerned when she said, "Ambassador Shore has contacted us. He would be willing to have a short Holomeeting with you." Sarion took a deep breath. "Connect us." he said and waited for her to establish the connection.
The first thing that appeared on the monitor was the deep blue eyes. Every time he had to interact with the human, those eyes gave him the chills. When the connection was fully stable, he saw that the ambassador was eating a meal. "It is very nice to see you, Fleet Admiral Sarion. I hope you don't mind me finishing my meal while we talk. I was told that the matter is of the highest importance, so I contacted you directly. Is it regarding your last pirate subjugation?" Sarion was impressed by the control the ambassador displayed. If he hadn't known the situation, he might have believed the curiosity to be genuine. It did fool the translator. "Ambassador Shore-." Sarion started but was interrupted by the human raising a hand. "Please, feel free to call me Damian. I believe we can be considered friends by now." Sarion sighed deeply, then continued. "Very well, Damian. I wish to talk about the ongoing war against the Predatory Coalition." Damian cut off a bit of meat from his plate, put it into his mouth, and answered after chewing it thoroughly. "Oh, you want to join in the culling? Truly distasteful topic, but I guess you'd be interested, considering your position. If you wish, I can give you the coordinates for the staging area of our reinforcements." Sarion could only watch him continuing to eat, unbothered by the atrocity he just uttered.
He took a moment to calm himself and asked with as much decorum he could muster. "No, I wanted to know what the Terran Federation plans to do with their civilians and prisoners of war." Damian chuckled darkly and put his hand around a bone on his plate. "That was a good joke, Sarion. But we have found that there are no civilians and we won't take any prisoners." He raised the hand and lifted up what Sarion could clearly identify as the Wing of an Avian. Damian continued, "After all, to be afforded rights, you'd first need to be considered people."
Sarion shuddered when Damian took a bite out of the wing and chewed it blissfully. After a few moments of silence, Damian looked at Sarion and noticed that his gaze was focused on the wing. "Oh, you're interested in my meal? It is a duck roast. It is my favorite type of fowl, but it is rather hard to get it up here. It's even better if it's a bit bloody." Sarion swallowed and asked to confirm, "You have destroyed a multi-race fleet and retook 4 planets from occupying armies, and you haven't taken a single prisoner? You have killed every single one?" Damian nodded. "Not one.". He couldn't contain himself any longer. "My SON was deployed on one of these planets!" Sarion burst out, almost leaping from his chair.
"Yes, on Elysion Grange. I was asked to greet you on Avan's behalf, by the way." Damian answered calmly. "And then you call me back, and you dare to f...." Sarion stopped midsentece. On his behalf? What the.. His thoughts were interrupted by Damian, who just ignored his last sentence and continued: "Seems like he was there to protect a few settlers when he met with my brother. I was told that his private security company was having a rather rough time. What with the Coalition infestation there, you see? After seeing them at work, my brother wanted to hire their company to protect Claytone Village. He's the mayor there, you know?" Sarion tried to understand what madness the ambassador was talking about, but his mind was overwhelmed by the fact that his son was alive.
Damian continued undisturbed, casually wiping his hands. "So now I'm here, with my brother asking me to find the company data so he can send a contract, but I just can't seem to find it. It is probably because the company is so new that the information isn't updated into the intergalactic database. Would you mind checking your Abbraxian access so I can send the contract?" Sarion understood the meaning of THIS question very well. "Sure, could you give me the name. Avan never told me which name he settled on before I left for my mission.". Damian smiled warmly when he answered. "No problem, let me just open the galaxymail that my brother sent me." He pulled out his communicator and opened up the system. "There it is. The name was 'Cor-Vid Combined Security'. Seems it was created on the day he left the Academy, together with his co-owner Valkin. They have quite the catchy Salespitch: "The best way to avoid getting killed is to hire a Murder.".
Sarion had to chuckle at how obviously this pitch was made by a human. "Thank you, I'll go look it up and send you the information as soon as I can." Sarion assured. Damian nodded amicably and reclined in his chair.
"Anyways, when will the Abbraxian government be able to send transports to our colonies? Because of the ongoing war, we don't have enough idle ships to return them all to Abbraxian space by ourselves." Sarion turned his head to the side in confusion but then understood the implication and answered: "Ooh. I'm not sure, but I have a meeting with the Abbraxian Elder Council later, so I will ask them. Is there anything else you want me to convey?" Even though Sarion knew that he wasn't in any danger, Damians grin still made him lose some feathers.
Sarion looked at the time display on his communicator. After a bit of convincing, the High Speaker of the council had allowed him to use the big holoroom on the Council Station for his call to Abbraxus Prime. She agreed that speed was of utmost importance in this matter. He barely had the time to arrange for his sons company to be created before she returned with the clearance documents.
He brushed down his ruffled feathers and checked his materials. This meeting would probably decide the future of his race. That it was the second meeting of this kind in one day wasn't helping him calm down. The projectors started to hum, slowly materialising 3D projections of the Elder Council in front of him. A few of them had wounds, probably from the explosion of a missile.
When they all had fully formed, the Eldest greeted him. "Fleet Admiral Sarion of Cor. You are welcomed before the Elder Council. Speak your purpose so that the Abbraxians can prosper under well deliberated guidance.", came the standard greeting from the council. Sarion gave the corresponding answer, "Thank you, Eldest. May the race prosper under your wisdom." After this, the actual meeting began.
"It is good to see you. Though I believe we would both prefer it to be under more pleasant circumstances." the Eldest said warmly. He was an old friend of the family and had led the moderate faction for many years. He was unhurt, and Damian had told him that this had been intended. "It is also good to see you healthy. And I believe you are not to blame for the unpleasant times we find ourselves in." His gaze focused accusingly on the second Elder, who was leading the hardliners. And was missing one Wing.
"Stop wasting everyones time, Admiral. State your business and leave us to debate." He snarled. Sarion smiled mockingly and said with a quiet voice, but still loud enough to be heard by every Elder, "Interesting demand, considering what brought us into this mess." Over the stiffled chuckles, he loudly procclaimed: "I come before the council bearing information regarding Humanity, as well as the words of their ambassador and my advice regarding this war. First, please look at this brief history of Humanity." He gestured, and a timetable appeared behind him. On it were multiple dates marked in different colors. "You'll find that the dates are marked by what they represent. For example, this blue date is the day the first human exited their planets atmosphere into space and returned alive. A scientific achievement. Here, we have the first contact with the Kitsun in green, followed by them meeting the Arboreans, both marked in green. diplomatic events. And the red markings show declared wars." The table was interspersed with multiple colors, but the sheer amount of red dates was staggering for the timeframe. One of the hardline Elders pointed towards the display and asked: "Those black dates, what are they?"
Sarion didn't turn around but just waved his claw, and the three black dates expanded to show timeframes. "I believe everyone remembers the Great War? The global war that lasted four years and ended when a misfired rocket resulted in a nuclear reactor exploding, filling the region with deadly radiation for many years, which started the unification of our race?" The Elders swallowed hard and looked at him with the hope that they had understood wrong. And while they did, it was only in scale. "The humans called them World Wars, and they had three of them. The smallest conflict had three times the casualties of our Great War, and two of them ended with nuclear bombs being dropped on cities." The Elders were shocked, and Sarion felt a bit satisfied when he saw the feathers that the second Elder lost.
He waited a bit for them to settle down before he continued. "These World Wars were major reasons behind the so called Geneva Convention. They were agreements that, in laymans terms, stipulated that the usage of certain weapons, strategies, and actions by or against a sentient were to be treated as warcrimes and should be punished by the international community. They also constituted that prisoners need to be taken when possible and they be treated 'humane'. They were amended multiple time to include bioweapons, gravitational weapons, militarized black holes, and all associated tactics." The second Elder interjected. "But they used a gravity weapon against the Coalition Fleet. They broke their own rules." Sarion stared daggers at the second Elder, that slowly shrunk away from his gaze. "As usual, your assessment is incorrect. After attacking their Crossed Star Vessels as well as actively starving their population, both acts forbidden in the Conventions, the Federation has officially deemed the members of the Coalition to be animals. The Convention protects all sentient beings. It does not protect animals."
As the Elders started to understand the implications, Sarion could see the blood drain from their faces, and a few started to hyperventilate. Even the Eldest looked at him fearful, his eyes pleading for a way out. "Luckily, I had a meeting with Ambassador Shore and he told me personally that I would not need to worry, as the Federation fleet did need neither my help nor the help of the Abbraxian Fleet with the culling." Confusion as thick as bunker armor filled the room. Sarion really regretted that he couldn't record this meeting.
"He also asked me when we will be able to send transport ships to pick up the civilians and Abbraxian soldiers on their colony worlds.". "Huh?" was the answer that Sarion received, and he had to try very hard to stop himself from laughing out loud. "Well, after questioning the Abbraxians, they found out that the prisoners identified as part of the Abbraxian Fleet. Since they didn't belong to the Predatory Coalition and the Federation isn't at war with the Abbraxian Great Clans, they were moved to camps on the colony worlds to await transport.". "B-But... you ... they..." one of the Elder stammered. The Eldest had already understood and laughed heartily.
"It seems that we lost in every way possible. Humanity has cornered us with only one way out, and we actually have to thank them for it." He proclaimed amused. The other Elders were surprised by the outburst of the Eldest and looked to Sarion for an explanation. "Ambassador Shore has given me the Declaration of the Terran Federation. It reads as follows: 'We, the Terran Federation, declare the signees and all members of the Predatory Coalition to be no longer worthy of the definition [Sentient Being] and will henceforth consider them animals. By this, they will be excluded from any protection afforded under the Law, the Geneva Conventions, and all Galactic Constitutions.' In other words, the Abbraxian people, being neither signees nor members of the military pact called Predatory Coalition, will still be considered sentient beings." The Elders sighed in relief, but Sarion was not finished yet. "This does not apply to the governing bodies, as they are a member of the Coalition. However, this can be easily remedied. Upon leaving the Coalition, the Elder Council would return to be only the government of the Abbraxians."
The Eldest stopped chuckling and said loudly: "Given that we don't have much of a choice, who is for leaving the Coalition?" All claws rose in unison. "Very well, Fleet Admiral of Cor, would you please inform Ambassador Shore that we thank him for the treatment of our people and that we will send our transports by the end of the week. I will inform the Coalition of our decision and the ... reasons behind it." Sarion performed the traditional bow and put his claw on the disconnect button.
Before he ended the connection, he added, "Oh and Second Elder. I believe you should be very careful in the future.". The Elder shot him an angry gaze. "Is that a threat, Admiral?" The Second Elder hissed. Sarion raised his claws innocently. "In no way, esteemed Elder. It's just that the Declaration stated signees and members. And if I remember correctly, your signature will continue to be on the Coalition Charter." The Elder fainted. Some days just end better than others, Sarion thought to himself as he cut the connection.
End of Story.
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2024.04.24 20:27 Sea-Sympathy5350 Indecent Disposal
It was last Monday; I was just finishing up my lunch sitting at my desk when my life changed. An e-mail notification appeared in my tool bar on the bottom of my computer screen. I opened my e-mail browser and located the newest e-mail amongst all the spam. I didn’t recognize the sender’s name, I would have deleted it if it wasn’t for the subject line “Karla’s Indecent Proposal”. This caught my attention because my wife’s name is Karla. I decided to open it, viruses lived within the attachments as long as I didn’t open any of them, I should be fine. So, I took the chance and opened the e-mail. It was cryptic to say the least but with just two sentences: Karla and Mr. Kirby will deliver you an indecent proposal Friday night. I thought well that’s bad, but wait, could this even be true, the second line provided me more clarity. Friday night at Chuck’s Steak and Bake restaurant, just felt you should know. It was left unsigned or with any other identifying markings. I re-read it repeatedly. I tried to reply to the message to ask more questions, but I immediately received an undeliverable notification. The notice said the account is no longer available. It must have been closed immediately after they sent they it.
As questions swirled around my brain for the next 4 hours I was forming a plan, just in case. My wife set up our dinner date for us this Friday night almost a month ago. Was this her plan the whole time. Oh yeah, our reservations were in fact for that very restaurant. I shuddered at that thought. I, as a strong-minded and focus driven person, took this e-mail seriously. I needed to plan my next steps to protect myself. I knew the movie “Indecent Proposal” but this outcome would be far different than the movies version.
The next morning, I went to work and contacted my cousin. He in turn called his friend a divorce attorney. Next thing I knew I was speaking with Tom Howard of the Baxter law offices directly. I told him the little information I had, he listened intently. After I spoke and a slight pause he said, “So what do you need from us. I had thought about this since I read that e-mail, I want to have a counter proposal for them. Tom said we are a divorce law firm and do not handle arbitration cases. I said quickly, no you have the wrong idea. Can we meet in person, so I can better explain my thoughts. He gave me his next afternoon appointment later the same day.
I spent 4 hours working out some details with my lawyer. He was amused by my candor and requests but agreed anyway. He told me I needed some additional information about our finances for the paperwork to be complete. I went back to work and asked HR for the remainder of the week off due to personal issues. They agreed and I left for home a few short minutes later. I had a lot to do and only 3 days to get it all done. The next morning, I made a call to a realtor for a current house appraisal. Then a trip to the bank, first was to separate our money from each other, second to pay off and cancel all credit cards taking effect that Saturday morning. Third was a call to HR removing my wife as my beneficiary from my 401k, life and medical insurances. Last was canceling her auto insurance and removing my name from the title of the car she drives. I took all my account information to Baxter’s law office handing them over to the receptionist, while thanking her. Thursday morning, I received a call from Tom, the paperwork had been completed and was ready to be picked up. I picked them up and went for a great lunch that happens to be across the street from the office my wife works at. This place has the best deli sandwiches in town, a bit pricy but well worth it. I saw Mr. Kirby and my wife exit their office building and go to a café 3 doors down the street. I took a couple candid shots, so as not to disturb their lunch date.
The next Day Friday, I spent most of the day making sure I had covered all my expose parts. My wife was still unaware that I had taken much of that week off. She was shocked to see me sitting in the living room watching TV when she arrived home after work. I had already taken my shower and shaved. All I had left to do was dress before we left for our dinner. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and set off to prepare her face and body for our date. She reappeared an hour later dressed to the nines. Damn she was stunning, as she descended the stairs, her dish water blonde hair draped over her tanned shoulders, wearing a new indigo blue mid-length dress. Black stockings with a pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos in one hand, and a Gucci handbag in the other. I had some idea where her new accessories had come from, and from whom, but I decided to stay silent. For all I knew she didn’t own them as of last week. I walked past her gleaming with pride on how spectacular she looked as my wife. I went to our bedroom and finished dressing and completing all my final touches. I came down just 10 minutes later and offered her a pre-dinner drink, we still had a few minutes, she happily accepted. We finished our drinks and headed to the car for our last night out together.
We arrived at the restaurant and waited to be seated, I then noticed Mr. Kirby was sitting at a table close to the back near the hallway to the restrooms. He was dress like my wife to the nines, A tailored silk jacket, a pressed Armani shirt and slacks with Christian Louboutin loafers. I thought, great the stage has been set. Along with Mr. Kirby there was a stunning dark-haired lady sharing his table. The lady sent glances to me from time to time during our meals. I knew she must have been the anonymous e-mailer. After our plates were cleared and we were just finishing our last glasses of wine, my wife excused herself to go to the restroom. As she walked past Mr. Kirby, I seen her head nod in the slightest of motion. He stood up and headed across the room in my direction. I hit the record button of my micro recorder in my jacket pocket. I sat there just waiting to pounce on this a-hole, but I managed to hold it together. He, without asking, took the empty seat across from me. He started by saying I’m… I stammered out before he could finish, Your Brad Kirby the owner of the company my wife currently works for. This took him by surprise. “Yes, I am,” he replied. From his reaction I don’t think he was ready for that, me already knowing who he was. In the back of my mind I thought yes he’s already confused.
He gathered himself and said with remarkable ease, I am going to make you an offer you can’t refuse. I said go ahead I’m listening. I think that was another curve ball for him, he was expecting something different as a response. My responses were like my reactions, really non emotional and almost robotic. Mr. Kirby continued, “I find your wife extremely attractive; I have a proposition for you. I sat there with leering eyes and said, please continue. At that point I spotted my wife exiting the hallway. She sat with the dark hair beauty at Mr. Kirby’s table and watched us. He then said I will give you and your wife a check right here and now for a weekend with your wife as my companion. I looked annoyed at first and to his surprise, I then asked him how much. This once again took him off guard. I guess he was expecting some push back from me, but there would be none of that tonight. He said I am willing to give you 100 thousand dollars for your wife’s companionship for this weekend. I looked and contemplated his offer, as if I would have ever taken it. I looked up and in a stoic voice, I replied I have a counteroffer. He looked at me, thinking he might be on the right track. Okay, I’m open to negotiations. I said If you pay me, not my wife, me alone 60 thousand dollars to cash me out of my side of the mortgage, pay all the legal fees to my lawyer, and guarantee me I won’t have to pay alimony, and she can’t touch my 401k, she’s all yours. He looked as if I had just slapped him by his stunned look. He sat there trying to regain control of our conversation. He finally said I don’t want her for life, just for this one weekend. I looked back at him with a smile and said one weekend would cost you, as you offered 100 thousand, whereas what I’m proposing is only around 75 thousand and you can have her for as long or as short as you want her. Sounds like a deal to me, what do you say. I pulled out the first set of papers out of my pocket and said it’s all written here, just waiting for your signature. I tried handing him the 3-page document. He looked at them but refused to take them from my hands. He looked stunned when he stood up, he had the most puzzled look on his face saying nothing. I think he was just at a loss of words by that point, as he just turned and walked away.
I was still holding the papers in my hand as he returned to his dining table, plopping down into his chair. He and my wife along with the additional pretty lady spoke vigorously with each other for 5 almost 10 minutes. My wife stood up and walked over to our table and sat down across from me occupying the seat Mr. Kirby had just vacated. Not the same loving seat she had sat in during our dinner next to each other minutes ago. She spoke calmly. Why did you turn his money down, I retorted back at her, you have some nerve asking me to succumb to an arrogant a-hole to the likes of Mr. Kirby. I continued, you need to make sure he takes the deal that I am offering him tonight, or things could or should I say, will get much worse for him. I continued; the offer is on the table for the next 10 minutes. She suddenly began to see the outcome from her plans to deceive me, had fallen apart unexpectedly with devastating results. Honey, she started, I shut that down immediately, never call me anything other than Tim or Mr. Jackson ever again. You no longer have my heart, and I no longer want yours. She was stunned and with tears forming in her eyes asked why? I said you’ve planned this whole thing, I found out about the indecent proposal last Monday. You have been planning this for a long while. This date of ours was set up a month ago. So, I can see no recovery for us and I’m giving you both a way out. Here’s the papers I tried to hand to Mr. Kirby, maybe you’ll have better luck. I handed her the same 3 pages. I said but if he still decides not to sign them. I pulled out the micro recorder from my pocket and said I’ll list him on the divorce papers for alienation of affection causing the demise of our marriage. If he signs the papers tonight, the tape will never be heard by anyone else. So, now you can go back to the a-hole’s table and repeat everything I just told you. Let’s see how he reacts to that. If after you tell him about our talk, and he still doesn’t want to sign them, I pulled out the last set of papers from my pocket. These are our divorce papers, as you can see I have your Mr. Kirby listed as your affair partner, they will be submitted in court Monday morning by my attorney. She said but, I said no it’s over, you made this happen, I just followed through with it. She stood and stumbled back across the restaurant in her Jimmy Choo stilettos with papers in her hand heading towards Mr. Kirby’s table.
5 minutes later the pretty dark-haired lady stood up and made the trek over to my table, taking the same seat across from me. She lifted her hand over her mouth and said I’m the one that sent you the e-mail. I said I know, her expression changed and asked how. I said I saw you watching us since we entered, I just had that feeling. Well done, she said, “I was expecting you not to even show up tonight, but boy was I wrong. They are going crazy over there trying to figure out what to do about you now. I was sent over here to convince you this was just a big misunderstanding. I nodded my head without saying a word. She then said, he’s worried this will get back to his wife. I said, yes it probably will if I have anything to say about it. That’s of course if he doesn’t sign those papers. She smiled back and said you know he’s done this before and gotten away with it every time. I sat taller and said not this damn time. She giggled with amusement. I need to go back and tell them your not budging at all, is that okay with you. I said yes but may I ask you a personal question first. She replied of course anything, I asked her, are you married or seeing anyone. Her face turned a bright red and said, “No, no one currently. I muttered out would you like to have dinner when all this calms down a bit. She smiled and said anytime with a curling motion of her bottom lip under her tooth. She stood and walked back, there was a lot more animated body language as they talked this time. Mr. Kirby stood up and came back to my table with my wife following closely behind.
Mr. Kirby started by saying, Mr. Jackson. I think your wife and I have made a serious mistake and, I stopped him and said no, you both took a calculated risk and lost badly. Now it’s time to pay the Pieper, and that’s me. Look I’m not asking for much, just a fair way out. Sign the papers and you two are free to do whatever you want. You can even use that hotel room that I’m sure Mr. Kirby already had lined up for this weekend, as I stared into my wife’s eyes. I am divorcing her either way looking back at Mr. Kirby. It makes no difference to me if your name is on those papers or not. But it may make a difference to Mrs. Kirby, as I held out my recorder. Either way you both distorted my happiness and I just want out. Sign them, it’s cheaper than the original weekend plan and much cheaper than the looming divorce I’m currently holding over your head. He finally relented and asked for my banking information, I said oh one more thing, you’re paying for tonight’s dinner a-hole. I stood up and walked to the other table and held out my hand and asked the beautiful dark-haired lady, “would you like to go for a drink. She stood up and took my hand into hers and we walked out the front door together.
submitted by Sea-Sympathy5350 to FictionWriting [link] [comments]
As questions swirled around my brain for the next 4 hours I was forming a plan, just in case. My wife set up our dinner date for us this Friday night almost a month ago. Was this her plan the whole time. Oh yeah, our reservations were in fact for that very restaurant. I shuddered at that thought. I, as a strong-minded and focus driven person, took this e-mail seriously. I needed to plan my next steps to protect myself. I knew the movie “Indecent Proposal” but this outcome would be far different than the movies version.
The next morning, I went to work and contacted my cousin. He in turn called his friend a divorce attorney. Next thing I knew I was speaking with Tom Howard of the Baxter law offices directly. I told him the little information I had, he listened intently. After I spoke and a slight pause he said, “So what do you need from us. I had thought about this since I read that e-mail, I want to have a counter proposal for them. Tom said we are a divorce law firm and do not handle arbitration cases. I said quickly, no you have the wrong idea. Can we meet in person, so I can better explain my thoughts. He gave me his next afternoon appointment later the same day.
I spent 4 hours working out some details with my lawyer. He was amused by my candor and requests but agreed anyway. He told me I needed some additional information about our finances for the paperwork to be complete. I went back to work and asked HR for the remainder of the week off due to personal issues. They agreed and I left for home a few short minutes later. I had a lot to do and only 3 days to get it all done. The next morning, I made a call to a realtor for a current house appraisal. Then a trip to the bank, first was to separate our money from each other, second to pay off and cancel all credit cards taking effect that Saturday morning. Third was a call to HR removing my wife as my beneficiary from my 401k, life and medical insurances. Last was canceling her auto insurance and removing my name from the title of the car she drives. I took all my account information to Baxter’s law office handing them over to the receptionist, while thanking her. Thursday morning, I received a call from Tom, the paperwork had been completed and was ready to be picked up. I picked them up and went for a great lunch that happens to be across the street from the office my wife works at. This place has the best deli sandwiches in town, a bit pricy but well worth it. I saw Mr. Kirby and my wife exit their office building and go to a café 3 doors down the street. I took a couple candid shots, so as not to disturb their lunch date.
The next Day Friday, I spent most of the day making sure I had covered all my expose parts. My wife was still unaware that I had taken much of that week off. She was shocked to see me sitting in the living room watching TV when she arrived home after work. I had already taken my shower and shaved. All I had left to do was dress before we left for our dinner. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and set off to prepare her face and body for our date. She reappeared an hour later dressed to the nines. Damn she was stunning, as she descended the stairs, her dish water blonde hair draped over her tanned shoulders, wearing a new indigo blue mid-length dress. Black stockings with a pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos in one hand, and a Gucci handbag in the other. I had some idea where her new accessories had come from, and from whom, but I decided to stay silent. For all I knew she didn’t own them as of last week. I walked past her gleaming with pride on how spectacular she looked as my wife. I went to our bedroom and finished dressing and completing all my final touches. I came down just 10 minutes later and offered her a pre-dinner drink, we still had a few minutes, she happily accepted. We finished our drinks and headed to the car for our last night out together.
We arrived at the restaurant and waited to be seated, I then noticed Mr. Kirby was sitting at a table close to the back near the hallway to the restrooms. He was dress like my wife to the nines, A tailored silk jacket, a pressed Armani shirt and slacks with Christian Louboutin loafers. I thought, great the stage has been set. Along with Mr. Kirby there was a stunning dark-haired lady sharing his table. The lady sent glances to me from time to time during our meals. I knew she must have been the anonymous e-mailer. After our plates were cleared and we were just finishing our last glasses of wine, my wife excused herself to go to the restroom. As she walked past Mr. Kirby, I seen her head nod in the slightest of motion. He stood up and headed across the room in my direction. I hit the record button of my micro recorder in my jacket pocket. I sat there just waiting to pounce on this a-hole, but I managed to hold it together. He, without asking, took the empty seat across from me. He started by saying I’m… I stammered out before he could finish, Your Brad Kirby the owner of the company my wife currently works for. This took him by surprise. “Yes, I am,” he replied. From his reaction I don’t think he was ready for that, me already knowing who he was. In the back of my mind I thought yes he’s already confused.
He gathered himself and said with remarkable ease, I am going to make you an offer you can’t refuse. I said go ahead I’m listening. I think that was another curve ball for him, he was expecting something different as a response. My responses were like my reactions, really non emotional and almost robotic. Mr. Kirby continued, “I find your wife extremely attractive; I have a proposition for you. I sat there with leering eyes and said, please continue. At that point I spotted my wife exiting the hallway. She sat with the dark hair beauty at Mr. Kirby’s table and watched us. He then said I will give you and your wife a check right here and now for a weekend with your wife as my companion. I looked annoyed at first and to his surprise, I then asked him how much. This once again took him off guard. I guess he was expecting some push back from me, but there would be none of that tonight. He said I am willing to give you 100 thousand dollars for your wife’s companionship for this weekend. I looked and contemplated his offer, as if I would have ever taken it. I looked up and in a stoic voice, I replied I have a counteroffer. He looked at me, thinking he might be on the right track. Okay, I’m open to negotiations. I said If you pay me, not my wife, me alone 60 thousand dollars to cash me out of my side of the mortgage, pay all the legal fees to my lawyer, and guarantee me I won’t have to pay alimony, and she can’t touch my 401k, she’s all yours. He looked as if I had just slapped him by his stunned look. He sat there trying to regain control of our conversation. He finally said I don’t want her for life, just for this one weekend. I looked back at him with a smile and said one weekend would cost you, as you offered 100 thousand, whereas what I’m proposing is only around 75 thousand and you can have her for as long or as short as you want her. Sounds like a deal to me, what do you say. I pulled out the first set of papers out of my pocket and said it’s all written here, just waiting for your signature. I tried handing him the 3-page document. He looked at them but refused to take them from my hands. He looked stunned when he stood up, he had the most puzzled look on his face saying nothing. I think he was just at a loss of words by that point, as he just turned and walked away.
I was still holding the papers in my hand as he returned to his dining table, plopping down into his chair. He and my wife along with the additional pretty lady spoke vigorously with each other for 5 almost 10 minutes. My wife stood up and walked over to our table and sat down across from me occupying the seat Mr. Kirby had just vacated. Not the same loving seat she had sat in during our dinner next to each other minutes ago. She spoke calmly. Why did you turn his money down, I retorted back at her, you have some nerve asking me to succumb to an arrogant a-hole to the likes of Mr. Kirby. I continued, you need to make sure he takes the deal that I am offering him tonight, or things could or should I say, will get much worse for him. I continued; the offer is on the table for the next 10 minutes. She suddenly began to see the outcome from her plans to deceive me, had fallen apart unexpectedly with devastating results. Honey, she started, I shut that down immediately, never call me anything other than Tim or Mr. Jackson ever again. You no longer have my heart, and I no longer want yours. She was stunned and with tears forming in her eyes asked why? I said you’ve planned this whole thing, I found out about the indecent proposal last Monday. You have been planning this for a long while. This date of ours was set up a month ago. So, I can see no recovery for us and I’m giving you both a way out. Here’s the papers I tried to hand to Mr. Kirby, maybe you’ll have better luck. I handed her the same 3 pages. I said but if he still decides not to sign them. I pulled out the micro recorder from my pocket and said I’ll list him on the divorce papers for alienation of affection causing the demise of our marriage. If he signs the papers tonight, the tape will never be heard by anyone else. So, now you can go back to the a-hole’s table and repeat everything I just told you. Let’s see how he reacts to that. If after you tell him about our talk, and he still doesn’t want to sign them, I pulled out the last set of papers from my pocket. These are our divorce papers, as you can see I have your Mr. Kirby listed as your affair partner, they will be submitted in court Monday morning by my attorney. She said but, I said no it’s over, you made this happen, I just followed through with it. She stood and stumbled back across the restaurant in her Jimmy Choo stilettos with papers in her hand heading towards Mr. Kirby’s table.
5 minutes later the pretty dark-haired lady stood up and made the trek over to my table, taking the same seat across from me. She lifted her hand over her mouth and said I’m the one that sent you the e-mail. I said I know, her expression changed and asked how. I said I saw you watching us since we entered, I just had that feeling. Well done, she said, “I was expecting you not to even show up tonight, but boy was I wrong. They are going crazy over there trying to figure out what to do about you now. I was sent over here to convince you this was just a big misunderstanding. I nodded my head without saying a word. She then said, he’s worried this will get back to his wife. I said, yes it probably will if I have anything to say about it. That’s of course if he doesn’t sign those papers. She smiled back and said you know he’s done this before and gotten away with it every time. I sat taller and said not this damn time. She giggled with amusement. I need to go back and tell them your not budging at all, is that okay with you. I said yes but may I ask you a personal question first. She replied of course anything, I asked her, are you married or seeing anyone. Her face turned a bright red and said, “No, no one currently. I muttered out would you like to have dinner when all this calms down a bit. She smiled and said anytime with a curling motion of her bottom lip under her tooth. She stood and walked back, there was a lot more animated body language as they talked this time. Mr. Kirby stood up and came back to my table with my wife following closely behind.
Mr. Kirby started by saying, Mr. Jackson. I think your wife and I have made a serious mistake and, I stopped him and said no, you both took a calculated risk and lost badly. Now it’s time to pay the Pieper, and that’s me. Look I’m not asking for much, just a fair way out. Sign the papers and you two are free to do whatever you want. You can even use that hotel room that I’m sure Mr. Kirby already had lined up for this weekend, as I stared into my wife’s eyes. I am divorcing her either way looking back at Mr. Kirby. It makes no difference to me if your name is on those papers or not. But it may make a difference to Mrs. Kirby, as I held out my recorder. Either way you both distorted my happiness and I just want out. Sign them, it’s cheaper than the original weekend plan and much cheaper than the looming divorce I’m currently holding over your head. He finally relented and asked for my banking information, I said oh one more thing, you’re paying for tonight’s dinner a-hole. I stood up and walked to the other table and held out my hand and asked the beautiful dark-haired lady, “would you like to go for a drink. She stood up and took my hand into hers and we walked out the front door together.
2024.04.24 02:00 AutoModerator NEW PLAYERS COME HERE! - Weekly Questions and Information thread - April 24, 2024
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| Vormithrax | Link | Link |
| TheMurderUnicorn | Link | Link |
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| RyconRoleplays | None | Link |
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Memorial
Individuals that used to play C:DDA but have gone on hiatus or stopped streaming. These are mentioned here as requested by the community for being noteworthy.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
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Semi-Multiplayer - WatchCDDA.net
WatchCDDA.net is hosted by r7st and allows for semi-multiplayer ASCII version of Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead. It can be a bit confusing to get started so make sure you check out the Instructions page for more details and join that Discord to communicate while playing. Any issues need to be expressed on WatchCDDA's Discord, not the subreddit - any troubleshooting posts will be removed.- Requirements:
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- SSH client (like PuTTY)
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If you are paranoid, you can always inspect the source code yourself and build the launcher from the source code. However, you are still likely to get false positives.
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2024.04.20 16:15 SpacePaladin15 The Nature of Predators 2-29
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Gojid Refugee Patreon Subreddit Discord Paperback NOP2 Species Lore
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Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: June 9, 2160
Quana and Gress didn’t mesh, even after I tried to share his story with the Jaslip. The fluffy carnivore demeaned me as gullible for buying his ignorance, though potential dishonesty was unthinkable to me after seeing the look in his eyes. My Krev exchange partner had opened up his soul to me, and I wouldn’t let the quadruped’s vitriol turn me against him. She still spoke to me, perhaps out of gratitude for my earlier aid, but turned cold when Gress was around—offering only vicious growls when spoken to. It was probably for the best that the two rarely interacted for the first few weeks, as General Radai set out to run us ragged; I was pushed to my breaking point physically, and grew accustomed to hurting all over after a day’s training. The former hostage negotiator, meanwhile, was enjoying a more tranquil regimen in comms training.
However, when it came time to start ship exercises—gathering experience on patrols and boarding scenarios—the Jaslip and the Krev would have to work together. Gress was thrust into a role on the comms station, while Quana, Cherise, and I were simple bridge security; our job was to monitor the situation, escort crewmates off the deck under circumstances of disobedience, and to jump in as assistants if needed. We could be ready to board a vessel in a flash. Under peacetime, a large part of our responsibilities might be stopping piracy and apprehending suspects in Tellus’ space. The Krev would help if we requested their aid, but the last thing our settlement wanted was to be a passenger on protecting our own territory. Watching Earth fall had been punishment enough.
“If you want to capture assets for intelligence, you know what that requires? Physical people on board to retrieve them!” Radai squawked. “This crew isn’t smooth enough to progress to ship insertions yet. We’re starting simple—maintain your patrol route while looking for jettisoned cargo. It’s too small to show up on sensors, so what are we looking for?”
“Subspace trails, sir!” I bellowed, along with the majority of the crew.
“Good! Stay alert and vigilant; you need to keep your patrol course while doing that. Comms, query for the local ship traffic logs, and forward it to sensors so they can cross-reference it.”
Gress’ eyes flitted over to his Ulchid partner, who was already firing off the communique. “On it, sir.”
“Good! Show me that you can work as a team, and complete your duties without babysitting. This should become routine, people.”
Cherise began drifting past various stations, eager to be summoned if they needed an extra hand; Quana occupied herself by checking the armory cart’s readiness, and while that was a one person job, I wandered up behind the Jaslip. The patrols were mundane as could be, especially when we were assigned as the bridge watch—unable to screw off like those on duty in the crew quarters, away from Radai’s watchful eyes. The Resket would flip his lid if we didn’t make ourselves useful and stay alert, however, even if there was nothing to look at but empty stars. I wished I could handle some of the duties, yet as quiet as it was, I wasn’t as hopeful for spare work as my security guard friend.
The Jaslip proceeded to rummage through the first aid supplies, ensuring for the umpteenth time that various auto-injecting blood packets were available in case of injury. A smirk crossed my face, imagining how the Federation thought we’d glimpse those and try to drink them like vampires. The amusement fizzled out, pushed back by the knowledge that humanity had been slaughtered for such laughable ideas. Quana tucked the supplies back in their cubby, and I shoved thoughts of that bygone era away. The carnivore’s three tails twitched with equal boredom and restlessness, knowing it would be several hours up in the stars without stimulation. The slim armor along her body was connected to a spine-mounted gun; it’d help the Jaslip move quickly, as a quadruped, while still firing it with her tails.
Every now and then, I see her angle her head toward Gress at the comms station. I wonder if she thinks about disabling the friendly targeting and taking him out—orders be damned. Quana won’t listen about him not being a heartless killer; she fell right into the propaganda.
Cherise wandered back toward us, crouching next to me as I pretended to inspect the weapons cart. “So much for taking the fight to them. The techs got a day of simulated space combat, but here we are, adrift in the stars. I’m tired of twiddling my thumbs.”
“We got a few ground exercises,” I offered. “I know it can’t all be glitz and glamor, but I don’t feel much like a soldier. I don’t feel any closer to fighting the Feddies.”
“I feel like a Krev lap-obor, forced to stare at monsters all day. You know Gress lied about Esquo, and you still fall for his story, Taylor. There’s video proof of my side—what does he have?!” Quana hissed, muzzle contorted in a nasty snarl.
“Gress is my friend, and he’s tried to be nice to you, despite the names you called him and how you remind him of a traumatic incident. He knows he was being unfair. You’re being unfair by not even considering that the Jaslips you think are psychos have an agenda!”
Cherise pressed a finger to her helmet, where her lips were. “Keep your voices down. If you two are disruptive again, Radai might put you out the airlock…and you’ll be the jettisoned cargo to find.”
The Jaslip pinned her ears back. “You still sidle up to the kit killer as well. Is this some kind of primate loyalty—refusal to see what’s right in front of you?”
“Quana, with all due respect, I’m more likely to believe a public servant than extremists who shot their own kids on camera. That’s not a reliable source. I also don’t think that letting children die meshed with any of Gress’ behavior with us. He couldn’t help but pity us after the accident, despite who he thought we were.”
“Gress caused that drill explosion, working you to literal death without a shred of compassion—driving you out of your home for rent they didn’t even need. He puts on a nice face now because you remind him of his pet!”
I crossed my arms, wishing she could see the vicious scowl beneath my helmet. “That’s the thing; Gress wasn’t driving us from our home. Our home is Earth, and the Feds drove us out. I’d want secretive people I thought were Feds gone too, and I’d be a lot less nice about it. The drill exploding falls on me for being a shit negotiator…and watching my own self-interest.”
“Is that what you see in Gress? You both have those two traits in common.”
I balled my hands into fists. “Dammit, Quana. You used to be fun, and you know, I felt sorry for you for a lot of shit. I want to be your friend, but you can’t bear that I think for myself: that I don’t agree with extremist narratives!”
“I’m angry that you crawled right back to being his pet, after you yourself saw it.”
Cherise made a shushing sound again. “Enough! General Radai is giving us sideways glances.”
“General Radai is listening to what you’re saying as well,” the Resket squawked. “Since you three can’t sit still and quiet for a few hours, a permanent separation might be ideal.”
It might be best if Quana was kept away, since she spends half the time egging me on about Gress. I wish she’d chill out.
Without a word to request to stay with the Jaslip, I moved near the elevator and placed my hands behind my back. My brooding thoughts occupied me more than standing at ease, as Cherise apologized to Radai—despite being the one who’d been trying to quiet our bickering. I imagined the Resket would make us all run laps until we wanted to throw up, since he’d already done that to me twice as punishment. Even if it got me into trouble, I wasn’t going to let Quana impugn my closest friend’s honor like that. Gress was a good man who’d had his life ruined by real monsters, and had been set up to be at the heart of a controversy. If the Jaslip kept pushing me, my choice was simple.
The patrol was quiet, as we wandered our normal route while combing subspace trails. I crept forward toward the rail that overlooked sensors, in the hopes of gleaning something from the screens; if I could pick up enough, maybe I could get a posting as a sensors assistant. It was supposed to be one of the simplest jobs on the vessel, while also giving me something constant to process. I watched how the Trombil and the human on the station whittled down the activity, trying to sniff out whatever Radai had set up. I stifled a yawn, hoping they’d pick up the cargo soon, so we could return to camp. This wasn’t the illustrious freedom fighter career I envisioned—that was for sure. Was I serving humanity at all?
“Sir, I’m picking up dozens of unregistered subspace trails at the fringes of the system…much higher visibility than loosed cargo,” the Trombil stated. “The contacts appear to be still active, and are on an intercept course with Tellus. They appear to have dropped out of FTL before triggering our disruptors, and are proceeding at sublight speeds.”
There was the slightest shift in Radai’s demeanor, but I saw the angle of his head change; it seemed like a momentary jolt of surprise, just enough to suggest this wasn’t a planned, simulated encounter. The Resket maintained his composure, though he’d cleared the gap to the sensors station in a second. Confirming that it was true with his own eyes, he quickly wheeled around—announcing that this was not a test. The general relayed orders to comms to notify both the Consortium government on Avor and Mayor Hathaway’s office on the newly-built up Tellus. Gress risked a glance at me, consternation evident on his face, as he sent word of the incursion back to the delegates.
Who the fuck was in our space? Had the Federation discovered the ark ships, and come to finish us off? My features hardened, knowing quite well the direction they’d come from. We weren’t going to let the prey fuckwits get anywhere near us. I waited for what I already knew to be true, as sensors gathered information on the intruding vessels and cross-referenced them against known schematics; it was fortunate our vault of data from Earth had thought to bring what we knew of their military capabilities. To my surprise, the sensors station had an immediate hit, just from the minimal intel in the Krev’s database from their long-ago scouting. I could feel the adrenaline kicking in, alongside a surge of wrath toward these monsters.
This patrol had become quite real in an instant. Even with faces obscured, I could see fear in the human crew’s breathing and stiff postures.
Gress cleared his throat. “We have permission from Avor to engage the vessels, sir. I’m linked in with the other training ships, and we’re scrambling drone reinforcements. Also, my Ulchid comrade is telling me that the human government is demanding that we fire on the targets. The decision, however, remains yours.”
“Very well. Advance toward the contacts and ready weapons. Has sensors identified the ships?” Radai prompted.
“Sivkit make, sir—large vessels utilized on their nomadic expeditions, as they move from world to world…devouring them,” a human sensors tech answered, a frazzled edge to their voice.
My Krev friend cleared his throat. “We’ve definitely been spotted by the Sivkits. We’re being hailed on multiple frequencies.”
“Don’t answer that,” I piped up, before I could stop myself. “Uh, forgive my intrusion, sir, but what happens if they see a human…hear our voices, or someone gives up a little too much? What happens if they get close enough to glimpse our settlements, or tap into our feed? Tellus has no fucking Cage to protect it, or to hide the activity on the ground.”
Radai’s eyes widened in irritation. “Is that all, Trench? Please, go on; we’re all dying for your tactical input. It’s not like I can weigh the possibilities on my own. You do know we don’t have to show the humans on screen—and we can try to turn them back?”
“Sir, may I have a word?” Cherise ducked her head sheepishly, as an unamused Radai gave a snide “go on” wave of his wing. “I…I think most humans on this ship agree that we can’t let the Sivkits leave, or glimpse any intel. Every second they’re left alive; you have FTL comms, so how do we know they haven’t invented them in the past two and a half decades? They could be reporting this live.”
“As the head of the comms station, my advice is also not to contact them,” Gress interjected. “It could expose the whole Consortium. For all we know, word’s already gotten back to them. Letting them leave would guarantee that they know we’re here, and they come back with friends.”
Radai’s eyes smoldered with fury, displeased with the unsolicited input. “If I wanted your advice, I would’ve fucking asked for it! You are a training crew, and I am the military leader. You aren’t just several rings below me; you’re bottom of the pecking order, and I am the top! Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I offered, though my heart wasn’t in it. This was my planet on the line again: not his! If he didn’t attack them, I wouldn’t accept that—and given what Hathaway had transmitted in response, I doubted most of humanity would either.
“Good! If you can’t follow your damn orders, you assholes won’t make it a day in real combat. Lay off the panic, and do what the fuck you’re told. Now turn on automated weapons systems and prepare to highlight the targets as hostiles—subdesignation ‘shoot to kill.’ Don’t do it until we are within range; I don’t want them to have a moment to know what hit them. We strike all at once, as a fleet. These are the most important minutes of you dipshits’ lives, so get it the fuck right!”
I backed off my mutinous thoughts, feeling a rush of pleasure that the Resket general intended to obliterate these bastards. How and why the Sivkits had strayed seven days’ travel from their territory was a question, but that showed that they definitely would’ve crossed Esquo’s path by now; they were a long way from home. Human and alien crew alike scrambled to their various duties, as our formation closed in on the intruders. Weapons activated the computer’s systems—even on a manned ship, manual control of artillery was only a failsafe in the Consortium. Comms went dark with a final transmission to Tellus and Avor, not wanting to give away any intel about our planets’ locale with indiscreet signals. This was the start of exacting revenge for Earth; we’d draw a line in the sand.
We’re not leaving Tellus, and we’re sure as shit not letting them get a whiff that humanity lived; they’d gun for us first to finish us off. The Krev Consortium has these prejudiced fuckers outclassed, and they can keep our survival secret by firing the first shots.
Radai stared at the viewport, watching the burgeoning ships enlarge on the screen. He looked a bit remorseful, burdened by the knowledge that his order would vaporize the thousands of life signatures we saw—and be the opening volley of the Consortium’s inevitable war. The Reskets hadn’t engaged in a true conflict in three decades, so it was likely that his military service had been dominated by peace. Even Esquo wasn’t an all-out space bloodbath, so they lacked the firsthand recollection of interstellar war that we had. I believed that these aliens were different than the feckless Feddies, but I hoped that the general had it in him to do what was necessary. Our hatred for these herbivores was likely stronger than his.
General Radai never looked away from the viewport. “Run a final check on all systems. It appears their shields can’t deflect particle beams, but we can’t be sure. Prepare to manually fire an immediate follow-up as soon as I give the order for targeting and the first one’s away. Be ready to divert power to shields or thrusters in case this doesn’t go according to plan.”
“Yes, sir,” came the various calls of assent.
“Very well. Closing in three, two…target them now!”
The ship’s weaponry revved to life, as the ship AI cleaved through a Sivkit vessel with a rapid, invisible hand. The other training vessels proved their readiness as well, synchronizing their weapon deployment to knock them out all at once. The prey scourges weren’t ready for their shields to be bypassed with a single hit, and the precision of the computers was impeccable; finding the weak spots and obliterating the armor. The drone reinforcements coming up from the outer system zipped up behind the Sivkits, but it proved unnecessary to surround the expedition spacecraft. A chain reaction of fireballs, split-seconds apart, lit up the invading fleet—before only debris remained on the viewport.
I whistled in appreciation, mashing my hands together to cheer; other humans were celebrating as well, basking in the feeling of victory at last. Quana’s whiskers twitched with delight, and she chipped in her own howl. The Jaslip blamed the loss of Esquo on the threat of Sivkits venturing outward, and had also joined the military to help defend us. Our ark ship colony really could protect itself now! This was what we could do with recruits out on a training mission, not with the million-strong armada that Avor had amassed. It meant a lot to us all to finally score a victory against the Federation, after years of hiding and changing our lives to them.
General Radai swiveled around, finally studying each of us. “Forget your earlier mission. Sweep the edges of the system thoroughly, and make sure there’s no more of them. Stay on high alert; we’ll be increasing patrols, in case this was only the first bunch. Or in case they launch an all-out attack when the ships don’t return.”
“I’d like to see them try,” I whispered to myself. “Now’s the time to press our advantage. Push into their space.”
With a staged cargo retrieval gone by the wayside, I trained my binocular eyes on the viewport—searching for any sign of the herbivore savages. My helmet HUD gave info about the epicenter of each vessel’s remains, and I took the time to tally them up; imagining their sudden ends gave me energy that I hadn’t possessed since beginning boot camp. This was what I had been fantasizing about for so long, and it was better than I dreamed once manifested. Humanity’s revenge tour began today, with these eviscerated Sivkit ships.
---
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Gojid Refugee Patreon Subreddit Discord Paperback NOP2 Species Lore
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Gojid Refugee Patreon Subreddit Discord Paperback NOP2 Species Lore
---
Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: June 9, 2160
Quana and Gress didn’t mesh, even after I tried to share his story with the Jaslip. The fluffy carnivore demeaned me as gullible for buying his ignorance, though potential dishonesty was unthinkable to me after seeing the look in his eyes. My Krev exchange partner had opened up his soul to me, and I wouldn’t let the quadruped’s vitriol turn me against him. She still spoke to me, perhaps out of gratitude for my earlier aid, but turned cold when Gress was around—offering only vicious growls when spoken to. It was probably for the best that the two rarely interacted for the first few weeks, as General Radai set out to run us ragged; I was pushed to my breaking point physically, and grew accustomed to hurting all over after a day’s training. The former hostage negotiator, meanwhile, was enjoying a more tranquil regimen in comms training.
However, when it came time to start ship exercises—gathering experience on patrols and boarding scenarios—the Jaslip and the Krev would have to work together. Gress was thrust into a role on the comms station, while Quana, Cherise, and I were simple bridge security; our job was to monitor the situation, escort crewmates off the deck under circumstances of disobedience, and to jump in as assistants if needed. We could be ready to board a vessel in a flash. Under peacetime, a large part of our responsibilities might be stopping piracy and apprehending suspects in Tellus’ space. The Krev would help if we requested their aid, but the last thing our settlement wanted was to be a passenger on protecting our own territory. Watching Earth fall had been punishment enough.
“If you want to capture assets for intelligence, you know what that requires? Physical people on board to retrieve them!” Radai squawked. “This crew isn’t smooth enough to progress to ship insertions yet. We’re starting simple—maintain your patrol route while looking for jettisoned cargo. It’s too small to show up on sensors, so what are we looking for?”
“Subspace trails, sir!” I bellowed, along with the majority of the crew.
“Good! Stay alert and vigilant; you need to keep your patrol course while doing that. Comms, query for the local ship traffic logs, and forward it to sensors so they can cross-reference it.”
Gress’ eyes flitted over to his Ulchid partner, who was already firing off the communique. “On it, sir.”
“Good! Show me that you can work as a team, and complete your duties without babysitting. This should become routine, people.”
Cherise began drifting past various stations, eager to be summoned if they needed an extra hand; Quana occupied herself by checking the armory cart’s readiness, and while that was a one person job, I wandered up behind the Jaslip. The patrols were mundane as could be, especially when we were assigned as the bridge watch—unable to screw off like those on duty in the crew quarters, away from Radai’s watchful eyes. The Resket would flip his lid if we didn’t make ourselves useful and stay alert, however, even if there was nothing to look at but empty stars. I wished I could handle some of the duties, yet as quiet as it was, I wasn’t as hopeful for spare work as my security guard friend.
The Jaslip proceeded to rummage through the first aid supplies, ensuring for the umpteenth time that various auto-injecting blood packets were available in case of injury. A smirk crossed my face, imagining how the Federation thought we’d glimpse those and try to drink them like vampires. The amusement fizzled out, pushed back by the knowledge that humanity had been slaughtered for such laughable ideas. Quana tucked the supplies back in their cubby, and I shoved thoughts of that bygone era away. The carnivore’s three tails twitched with equal boredom and restlessness, knowing it would be several hours up in the stars without stimulation. The slim armor along her body was connected to a spine-mounted gun; it’d help the Jaslip move quickly, as a quadruped, while still firing it with her tails.
Every now and then, I see her angle her head toward Gress at the comms station. I wonder if she thinks about disabling the friendly targeting and taking him out—orders be damned. Quana won’t listen about him not being a heartless killer; she fell right into the propaganda.
Cherise wandered back toward us, crouching next to me as I pretended to inspect the weapons cart. “So much for taking the fight to them. The techs got a day of simulated space combat, but here we are, adrift in the stars. I’m tired of twiddling my thumbs.”
“We got a few ground exercises,” I offered. “I know it can’t all be glitz and glamor, but I don’t feel much like a soldier. I don’t feel any closer to fighting the Feddies.”
“I feel like a Krev lap-obor, forced to stare at monsters all day. You know Gress lied about Esquo, and you still fall for his story, Taylor. There’s video proof of my side—what does he have?!” Quana hissed, muzzle contorted in a nasty snarl.
“Gress is my friend, and he’s tried to be nice to you, despite the names you called him and how you remind him of a traumatic incident. He knows he was being unfair. You’re being unfair by not even considering that the Jaslips you think are psychos have an agenda!”
Cherise pressed a finger to her helmet, where her lips were. “Keep your voices down. If you two are disruptive again, Radai might put you out the airlock…and you’ll be the jettisoned cargo to find.”
The Jaslip pinned her ears back. “You still sidle up to the kit killer as well. Is this some kind of primate loyalty—refusal to see what’s right in front of you?”
“Quana, with all due respect, I’m more likely to believe a public servant than extremists who shot their own kids on camera. That’s not a reliable source. I also don’t think that letting children die meshed with any of Gress’ behavior with us. He couldn’t help but pity us after the accident, despite who he thought we were.”
“Gress caused that drill explosion, working you to literal death without a shred of compassion—driving you out of your home for rent they didn’t even need. He puts on a nice face now because you remind him of his pet!”
I crossed my arms, wishing she could see the vicious scowl beneath my helmet. “That’s the thing; Gress wasn’t driving us from our home. Our home is Earth, and the Feds drove us out. I’d want secretive people I thought were Feds gone too, and I’d be a lot less nice about it. The drill exploding falls on me for being a shit negotiator…and watching my own self-interest.”
“Is that what you see in Gress? You both have those two traits in common.”
I balled my hands into fists. “Dammit, Quana. You used to be fun, and you know, I felt sorry for you for a lot of shit. I want to be your friend, but you can’t bear that I think for myself: that I don’t agree with extremist narratives!”
“I’m angry that you crawled right back to being his pet, after you yourself saw it.”
Cherise made a shushing sound again. “Enough! General Radai is giving us sideways glances.”
“General Radai is listening to what you’re saying as well,” the Resket squawked. “Since you three can’t sit still and quiet for a few hours, a permanent separation might be ideal.”
It might be best if Quana was kept away, since she spends half the time egging me on about Gress. I wish she’d chill out.
Without a word to request to stay with the Jaslip, I moved near the elevator and placed my hands behind my back. My brooding thoughts occupied me more than standing at ease, as Cherise apologized to Radai—despite being the one who’d been trying to quiet our bickering. I imagined the Resket would make us all run laps until we wanted to throw up, since he’d already done that to me twice as punishment. Even if it got me into trouble, I wasn’t going to let Quana impugn my closest friend’s honor like that. Gress was a good man who’d had his life ruined by real monsters, and had been set up to be at the heart of a controversy. If the Jaslip kept pushing me, my choice was simple.
The patrol was quiet, as we wandered our normal route while combing subspace trails. I crept forward toward the rail that overlooked sensors, in the hopes of gleaning something from the screens; if I could pick up enough, maybe I could get a posting as a sensors assistant. It was supposed to be one of the simplest jobs on the vessel, while also giving me something constant to process. I watched how the Trombil and the human on the station whittled down the activity, trying to sniff out whatever Radai had set up. I stifled a yawn, hoping they’d pick up the cargo soon, so we could return to camp. This wasn’t the illustrious freedom fighter career I envisioned—that was for sure. Was I serving humanity at all?
“Sir, I’m picking up dozens of unregistered subspace trails at the fringes of the system…much higher visibility than loosed cargo,” the Trombil stated. “The contacts appear to be still active, and are on an intercept course with Tellus. They appear to have dropped out of FTL before triggering our disruptors, and are proceeding at sublight speeds.”
There was the slightest shift in Radai’s demeanor, but I saw the angle of his head change; it seemed like a momentary jolt of surprise, just enough to suggest this wasn’t a planned, simulated encounter. The Resket maintained his composure, though he’d cleared the gap to the sensors station in a second. Confirming that it was true with his own eyes, he quickly wheeled around—announcing that this was not a test. The general relayed orders to comms to notify both the Consortium government on Avor and Mayor Hathaway’s office on the newly-built up Tellus. Gress risked a glance at me, consternation evident on his face, as he sent word of the incursion back to the delegates.
Who the fuck was in our space? Had the Federation discovered the ark ships, and come to finish us off? My features hardened, knowing quite well the direction they’d come from. We weren’t going to let the prey fuckwits get anywhere near us. I waited for what I already knew to be true, as sensors gathered information on the intruding vessels and cross-referenced them against known schematics; it was fortunate our vault of data from Earth had thought to bring what we knew of their military capabilities. To my surprise, the sensors station had an immediate hit, just from the minimal intel in the Krev’s database from their long-ago scouting. I could feel the adrenaline kicking in, alongside a surge of wrath toward these monsters.
This patrol had become quite real in an instant. Even with faces obscured, I could see fear in the human crew’s breathing and stiff postures.
Gress cleared his throat. “We have permission from Avor to engage the vessels, sir. I’m linked in with the other training ships, and we’re scrambling drone reinforcements. Also, my Ulchid comrade is telling me that the human government is demanding that we fire on the targets. The decision, however, remains yours.”
“Very well. Advance toward the contacts and ready weapons. Has sensors identified the ships?” Radai prompted.
“Sivkit make, sir—large vessels utilized on their nomadic expeditions, as they move from world to world…devouring them,” a human sensors tech answered, a frazzled edge to their voice.
My Krev friend cleared his throat. “We’ve definitely been spotted by the Sivkits. We’re being hailed on multiple frequencies.”
“Don’t answer that,” I piped up, before I could stop myself. “Uh, forgive my intrusion, sir, but what happens if they see a human…hear our voices, or someone gives up a little too much? What happens if they get close enough to glimpse our settlements, or tap into our feed? Tellus has no fucking Cage to protect it, or to hide the activity on the ground.”
Radai’s eyes widened in irritation. “Is that all, Trench? Please, go on; we’re all dying for your tactical input. It’s not like I can weigh the possibilities on my own. You do know we don’t have to show the humans on screen—and we can try to turn them back?”
“Sir, may I have a word?” Cherise ducked her head sheepishly, as an unamused Radai gave a snide “go on” wave of his wing. “I…I think most humans on this ship agree that we can’t let the Sivkits leave, or glimpse any intel. Every second they’re left alive; you have FTL comms, so how do we know they haven’t invented them in the past two and a half decades? They could be reporting this live.”
“As the head of the comms station, my advice is also not to contact them,” Gress interjected. “It could expose the whole Consortium. For all we know, word’s already gotten back to them. Letting them leave would guarantee that they know we’re here, and they come back with friends.”
Radai’s eyes smoldered with fury, displeased with the unsolicited input. “If I wanted your advice, I would’ve fucking asked for it! You are a training crew, and I am the military leader. You aren’t just several rings below me; you’re bottom of the pecking order, and I am the top! Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I offered, though my heart wasn’t in it. This was my planet on the line again: not his! If he didn’t attack them, I wouldn’t accept that—and given what Hathaway had transmitted in response, I doubted most of humanity would either.
“Good! If you can’t follow your damn orders, you assholes won’t make it a day in real combat. Lay off the panic, and do what the fuck you’re told. Now turn on automated weapons systems and prepare to highlight the targets as hostiles—subdesignation ‘shoot to kill.’ Don’t do it until we are within range; I don’t want them to have a moment to know what hit them. We strike all at once, as a fleet. These are the most important minutes of you dipshits’ lives, so get it the fuck right!”
I backed off my mutinous thoughts, feeling a rush of pleasure that the Resket general intended to obliterate these bastards. How and why the Sivkits had strayed seven days’ travel from their territory was a question, but that showed that they definitely would’ve crossed Esquo’s path by now; they were a long way from home. Human and alien crew alike scrambled to their various duties, as our formation closed in on the intruders. Weapons activated the computer’s systems—even on a manned ship, manual control of artillery was only a failsafe in the Consortium. Comms went dark with a final transmission to Tellus and Avor, not wanting to give away any intel about our planets’ locale with indiscreet signals. This was the start of exacting revenge for Earth; we’d draw a line in the sand.
We’re not leaving Tellus, and we’re sure as shit not letting them get a whiff that humanity lived; they’d gun for us first to finish us off. The Krev Consortium has these prejudiced fuckers outclassed, and they can keep our survival secret by firing the first shots.
Radai stared at the viewport, watching the burgeoning ships enlarge on the screen. He looked a bit remorseful, burdened by the knowledge that his order would vaporize the thousands of life signatures we saw—and be the opening volley of the Consortium’s inevitable war. The Reskets hadn’t engaged in a true conflict in three decades, so it was likely that his military service had been dominated by peace. Even Esquo wasn’t an all-out space bloodbath, so they lacked the firsthand recollection of interstellar war that we had. I believed that these aliens were different than the feckless Feddies, but I hoped that the general had it in him to do what was necessary. Our hatred for these herbivores was likely stronger than his.
General Radai never looked away from the viewport. “Run a final check on all systems. It appears their shields can’t deflect particle beams, but we can’t be sure. Prepare to manually fire an immediate follow-up as soon as I give the order for targeting and the first one’s away. Be ready to divert power to shields or thrusters in case this doesn’t go according to plan.”
“Yes, sir,” came the various calls of assent.
“Very well. Closing in three, two…target them now!”
The ship’s weaponry revved to life, as the ship AI cleaved through a Sivkit vessel with a rapid, invisible hand. The other training vessels proved their readiness as well, synchronizing their weapon deployment to knock them out all at once. The prey scourges weren’t ready for their shields to be bypassed with a single hit, and the precision of the computers was impeccable; finding the weak spots and obliterating the armor. The drone reinforcements coming up from the outer system zipped up behind the Sivkits, but it proved unnecessary to surround the expedition spacecraft. A chain reaction of fireballs, split-seconds apart, lit up the invading fleet—before only debris remained on the viewport.
I whistled in appreciation, mashing my hands together to cheer; other humans were celebrating as well, basking in the feeling of victory at last. Quana’s whiskers twitched with delight, and she chipped in her own howl. The Jaslip blamed the loss of Esquo on the threat of Sivkits venturing outward, and had also joined the military to help defend us. Our ark ship colony really could protect itself now! This was what we could do with recruits out on a training mission, not with the million-strong armada that Avor had amassed. It meant a lot to us all to finally score a victory against the Federation, after years of hiding and changing our lives to them.
General Radai swiveled around, finally studying each of us. “Forget your earlier mission. Sweep the edges of the system thoroughly, and make sure there’s no more of them. Stay on high alert; we’ll be increasing patrols, in case this was only the first bunch. Or in case they launch an all-out attack when the ships don’t return.”
“I’d like to see them try,” I whispered to myself. “Now’s the time to press our advantage. Push into their space.”
With a staged cargo retrieval gone by the wayside, I trained my binocular eyes on the viewport—searching for any sign of the herbivore savages. My helmet HUD gave info about the epicenter of each vessel’s remains, and I took the time to tally them up; imagining their sudden ends gave me energy that I hadn’t possessed since beginning boot camp. This was what I had been fantasizing about for so long, and it was better than I dreamed once manifested. Humanity’s revenge tour began today, with these eviscerated Sivkit ships.
---
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2024.04.17 10:42 AlexanderRaudsepp Was my great-grandpa adopted?
Hi!
My great-grandpa Dmitri Andreyevich Koltsov was born in Russia (Andreyevich was his patronymic name, learn more about Russian naming customs here). He died 1977 in Estonia, that was part of the Soviet Union at that time. As any genealogist would do, I set out to find his birth record and find out more about his ancestors. When I did this I discovered that his parents had another child the same year, just four months prior to Dmitri's birth. This means that Dmitri was not a biological child of theirs.
TL;DR What are the chances of a child being adopted in the beginning of the 20th century in Russia? Is there anything else I should find out and consider before jumping to conclusions? I'll provide more details below.
To find the birth record you mainly need to know two things: when the person was born and where.
Where was Dmitri born? I sent a request to the Estonian registration office to find what information they have on Dmitri (he lived in Tallinn from ca 1950 to his death). The Estonian database contains this information:
What other sources do I have? Now I know the modern-day district he was born in, but I don't know the village. I started googling for other people bort in Staritsky district with the same surname to figure out which village he was born in (I can read and write Russian). Doing this, I found two people who died in the Second World War. They fought against Nazi Germany. Their names were Ivan Andreyevich Koltsov and Vladimir Andreyevich Koltsov. I suspected that they were brothers of Dmitri since they share the same surname and father's name. They died in 1941 and 1943 respectively defending Leningrad. In their military documents, their place of birth is indicated as "Kalinin Oblast, Starisky District, Bakanovo" - a village that still exists to this day (Kalinin Oblast changed name to Tver Oblast after the fall of the Soviet Union).
In addition to the two sources I have listed - the Estonian database and military documents - I have a third source. I have inherited a photo of Dmitri as a teenager, maybe 15-20 years old, wearing a sailor's uniform. The photo was the inscription "Petrograd" (a name St. Petersburg had briefly) and the name of the photo studio. I suspected that he served as a sailor there. On the site of the archive of St. Petersburg I found a document containing his full name - Koltsov, Dmitri Andreyevich - so of course I ordered the document! They sent me a copy in March this year. And what do you know? It says that he was indeed a sailor on an icebreaker from 1919-1922. It is a document about him leaving his service on a ship, and it contains a questionnaire about his details filled in by hand with his signature at the end. This is gold! In the field "Date of birth", Dmitri indicated "10.1898", which I assume is October 1898. The questioner also asks for the names of his relatives, so he indicated that his father is "Andrey Arsenyevich", his mother is "Marfa Kuzmina", and he has 3 brothers: "Pavel, Ivan and Vladimir", residents of the "Tver Governorate, Zubtsov Uyezd, village Bakanovo". I started reading about the administrative divisions, and indeed - a large part of the Starkitsky district was allocated to the Zubtsov Uyezd before 1924. So it makes sense. Success! This matches the info I got on his brothers from the military site. The document has great-grandpa's signature at the end, "D. A. Koltsov".
So I start looking in to the church metrics, where the birth, marriage and death records were stored in Tsarist Russia. Luckily, these particular church metrics are digitalized and available for browsing on Family Search. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find the birth record of Dmitri - it was always something wrong, like the names of the parents or the name of the village. I found the birth records of his brothers' though. Vladimir was born in 1916, so 18 years younger than Dmitri. The names of the parents match: "Dmitri Andreyevich Koltsov of the village Bakanovo, and his legal wife Marfa Kuzmina". It's a match! In the same church archive I found the birth records of Ivan - born in 1908. And the marriage record of the parents. They married in 1894 in the same village Bakanovo. But this no trace of Dmitri, up until now I only have indirect evidence that Dmitri was the son of Marfa and Andrey. Then comes the plot twist...
One day I routinely go through the list of children born in Bakanovo in the church metrics, and a Pavel catches my eye. Pavel, born in 20 June 1898, his parents are "Andrey Arsenyevich and his legal wife Marfa Kuzmina". First I get really excited. I have managed to find the birth record of Dmitri's last brother! But then it sinks in... Dmitri was supposed to be born in 1898, not Pavel. What the hell...
I thought Pavel and Dmitri might be twins, but there is no indication of Dmitri. Usually twins are indicated underneath each other, I have seen that many times in church metrics, but this is not the case this time. As we all know, a pregnancy takes 9 months from start to end. You cannot give birth to one child in June and another child in October. It's biologically impossible.
Is it possible I have the wrong date of birth? The date of birth "October 1898" is mentioned in three sources: 1) the Estonian civil registry, 2) his gravestone in Tallinn, 3) the sailor service document from 1922, that was handwritten and signed by Dmitri himself. This means that the date of birth is pretty certain.
I guess the conclusion is that Marfa wasn't his biological mother, right? But if it wasn't Marfa and Andrey, who were the real parents of Dmitri?
I took a closer look at the back to the records of the same church. And I found a potential candidate. There was a Dmitri born on 12 October 1898, whose parents were "Vasiliy Yevdokimovich of the village Bakanovo and his legal wife Paraskeva Dmitriyevna". This might be my great-grandpa's real parents... Dmitri might have taken another surname and patronymic when he was adopted by Andrey and Marfa. Was adoption a thing in the early 20th century rural Russian Empire?
Is there something I might have overlooked and would need to investigate before I jump to conclusions? Thank you for reading this huge body of text. I would appreciate any advice you might have.
EDIT: I should mention that I have checked all birth records in the village of Bakanovo from 1894 to 1906, and I didn't find any Dmitri born to Andrey and Marfa. In face I didn't find any children born prior to 1898. Pavel seems to be their first child. I found that a little bit weird, that two farmers in late 19th century rural Russia would wait four years before having children.
submitted by AlexanderRaudsepp to Genealogy [link] [comments]
My great-grandpa Dmitri Andreyevich Koltsov was born in Russia (Andreyevich was his patronymic name, learn more about Russian naming customs here). He died 1977 in Estonia, that was part of the Soviet Union at that time. As any genealogist would do, I set out to find his birth record and find out more about his ancestors. When I did this I discovered that his parents had another child the same year, just four months prior to Dmitri's birth. This means that Dmitri was not a biological child of theirs.
TL;DR What are the chances of a child being adopted in the beginning of the 20th century in Russia? Is there anything else I should find out and consider before jumping to conclusions? I'll provide more details below.
To find the birth record you mainly need to know two things: when the person was born and where.
Where was Dmitri born? I sent a request to the Estonian registration office to find what information they have on Dmitri (he lived in Tallinn from ca 1950 to his death). The Estonian database contains this information:
- "Place of birth: Russia, Kalinin oblast, Staritsky district"
- "Date of birth: 10 October 1898"
What other sources do I have? Now I know the modern-day district he was born in, but I don't know the village. I started googling for other people bort in Staritsky district with the same surname to figure out which village he was born in (I can read and write Russian). Doing this, I found two people who died in the Second World War. They fought against Nazi Germany. Their names were Ivan Andreyevich Koltsov and Vladimir Andreyevich Koltsov. I suspected that they were brothers of Dmitri since they share the same surname and father's name. They died in 1941 and 1943 respectively defending Leningrad. In their military documents, their place of birth is indicated as "Kalinin Oblast, Starisky District, Bakanovo" - a village that still exists to this day (Kalinin Oblast changed name to Tver Oblast after the fall of the Soviet Union).
In addition to the two sources I have listed - the Estonian database and military documents - I have a third source. I have inherited a photo of Dmitri as a teenager, maybe 15-20 years old, wearing a sailor's uniform. The photo was the inscription "Petrograd" (a name St. Petersburg had briefly) and the name of the photo studio. I suspected that he served as a sailor there. On the site of the archive of St. Petersburg I found a document containing his full name - Koltsov, Dmitri Andreyevich - so of course I ordered the document! They sent me a copy in March this year. And what do you know? It says that he was indeed a sailor on an icebreaker from 1919-1922. It is a document about him leaving his service on a ship, and it contains a questionnaire about his details filled in by hand with his signature at the end. This is gold! In the field "Date of birth", Dmitri indicated "10.1898", which I assume is October 1898. The questioner also asks for the names of his relatives, so he indicated that his father is "Andrey Arsenyevich", his mother is "Marfa Kuzmina", and he has 3 brothers: "Pavel, Ivan and Vladimir", residents of the "Tver Governorate, Zubtsov Uyezd, village Bakanovo". I started reading about the administrative divisions, and indeed - a large part of the Starkitsky district was allocated to the Zubtsov Uyezd before 1924. So it makes sense. Success! This matches the info I got on his brothers from the military site. The document has great-grandpa's signature at the end, "D. A. Koltsov".
So I start looking in to the church metrics, where the birth, marriage and death records were stored in Tsarist Russia. Luckily, these particular church metrics are digitalized and available for browsing on Family Search. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find the birth record of Dmitri - it was always something wrong, like the names of the parents or the name of the village. I found the birth records of his brothers' though. Vladimir was born in 1916, so 18 years younger than Dmitri. The names of the parents match: "Dmitri Andreyevich Koltsov of the village Bakanovo, and his legal wife Marfa Kuzmina". It's a match! In the same church archive I found the birth records of Ivan - born in 1908. And the marriage record of the parents. They married in 1894 in the same village Bakanovo. But this no trace of Dmitri, up until now I only have indirect evidence that Dmitri was the son of Marfa and Andrey. Then comes the plot twist...
One day I routinely go through the list of children born in Bakanovo in the church metrics, and a Pavel catches my eye. Pavel, born in 20 June 1898, his parents are "Andrey Arsenyevich and his legal wife Marfa Kuzmina". First I get really excited. I have managed to find the birth record of Dmitri's last brother! But then it sinks in... Dmitri was supposed to be born in 1898, not Pavel. What the hell...
I thought Pavel and Dmitri might be twins, but there is no indication of Dmitri. Usually twins are indicated underneath each other, I have seen that many times in church metrics, but this is not the case this time. As we all know, a pregnancy takes 9 months from start to end. You cannot give birth to one child in June and another child in October. It's biologically impossible.
Is it possible I have the wrong date of birth? The date of birth "October 1898" is mentioned in three sources: 1) the Estonian civil registry, 2) his gravestone in Tallinn, 3) the sailor service document from 1922, that was handwritten and signed by Dmitri himself. This means that the date of birth is pretty certain.
I guess the conclusion is that Marfa wasn't his biological mother, right? But if it wasn't Marfa and Andrey, who were the real parents of Dmitri?
I took a closer look at the back to the records of the same church. And I found a potential candidate. There was a Dmitri born on 12 October 1898, whose parents were "Vasiliy Yevdokimovich of the village Bakanovo and his legal wife Paraskeva Dmitriyevna". This might be my great-grandpa's real parents... Dmitri might have taken another surname and patronymic when he was adopted by Andrey and Marfa. Was adoption a thing in the early 20th century rural Russian Empire?
Is there something I might have overlooked and would need to investigate before I jump to conclusions? Thank you for reading this huge body of text. I would appreciate any advice you might have.
EDIT: I should mention that I have checked all birth records in the village of Bakanovo from 1894 to 1906, and I didn't find any Dmitri born to Andrey and Marfa. In face I didn't find any children born prior to 1898. Pavel seems to be their first child. I found that a little bit weird, that two farmers in late 19th century rural Russia would wait four years before having children.
2024.04.17 02:00 AutoModerator NEW PLAYERS COME HERE! - Weekly Questions and Information thread - April 17, 2024
Downloads
Stable - Gaiman (Recommended)
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsExperimental (Not recommended)
Automated Installation
Catapult Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)CDDA Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)
Manual Installation
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsiOS
Compiling Guide
Controls (not up to date, controls for mobile can vary)
Helpful Guides
- Item Database
- Skill Training (Siersha - up to date for build #10626)
- Modding
- Detailed Guide (mlangsdorf)
- Quickstart Guide (DracoGriffin & AMurkin)
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- Tutorials
- Video Guide (Vormithrax)
- More Video Guide (GrandpuhTy)
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Featured Let's Players
Individuals that are currently known for playing C:DDA. List is subject to change (maintain active and current streamers), send modmail if you'd like to be added.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
|---|---|---|
| Vormithrax | Link | Link |
| TheMurderUnicorn | Link | Link |
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| RyconRoleplays | None | Link |
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Memorial
Individuals that used to play C:DDA but have gone on hiatus or stopped streaming. These are mentioned here as requested by the community for being noteworthy.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
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Semi-Multiplayer - WatchCDDA.net
WatchCDDA.net is hosted by r7st and allows for semi-multiplayer ASCII version of Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead. It can be a bit confusing to get started so make sure you check out the Instructions page for more details and join that Discord to communicate while playing. Any issues need to be expressed on WatchCDDA's Discord, not the subreddit - any troubleshooting posts will be removed.- Requirements:
- WatchCDDA.net Account (set up is on Instructions page)
- SSH client (like PuTTY)
- Willingness to use ASCII (no tilesets yet)
FAQ
- How do I use this subreddit?
- Flairs? What are those?
Changelog - these posts have very informative posts regarding changes.
Fixed - these posts generally have a solution to a bug or problem.
Lastly, if you flair a post [Help Wanted] and someone answered satisfactorily, make sure to re-flair it with [Solved] so others can find the solution instead of looking through tons of posts.
- Oh no, my anti-virus says the launcher is a threat!
If you are paranoid, you can always inspect the source code yourself and build the launcher from the source code. However, you are still likely to get false positives.
- The UI is broken or weird, is this normal?
- I think the subreddit should have ... or The subreddit should change ...
2024.04.16 18:33 kwajagimp rm2 Template Helper issues - suddenly it's a crypominer?
Hey folks - is anyone having issues with the rm2 Template Helper program today?
I've been using it since June (it works great, btw)...
but today, my antivirus program (Kaspersky) started giving me warnings about it being a "crypojacker". I checked the logs and see that it was marked as having a trojan.
I have reached out to the developer via their Facebook group, but it's nightish in Europe, so I haven't heard anything back yet.
Specifically, what Kapersky is telling me is -
Event: Malicious object detected
User: XXXX
User type: Initiator
Application name: explorer.exe
Application path: C:\Windows
Component: File Anti-Virus
Result description: Detected
Type: Trojan
Name: HEUR:Trojan.MSIL.Miner.gen
Precision: Heuristic Analysis
Threat level: High
Object type: File
Object name: RM2 Template Helper.exe
Object path: C:\RM2 Template Helper
MD5 of an object: 7C5B6ECEECC3E6EF01F062F7C2436216
Reason: Machine learning
Databases release date: Today, 4/16/2024 06:41:00
I'm running the usual scans and checking my CPU/memory usage, but seeing nothing unusual there. I did not recently update the Template Helper program, but as you can see, Kaspersky updated today, so I'm guessing it got a new "definition".
THIS MAY VERY WELL BE A FALSE POSITIVE, but I thought I'd check to see if anyone else is having similar issues.
Again, I love this program and if you need custom pages, it's a great solution...but for the moment, I have deleted it and await a conversation with the developer. I will let you all know how it comes out.
submitted by kwajagimp to RemarkableTablet [link] [comments]
I've been using it since June (it works great, btw)...
but today, my antivirus program (Kaspersky) started giving me warnings about it being a "crypojacker". I checked the logs and see that it was marked as having a trojan.
I have reached out to the developer via their Facebook group, but it's nightish in Europe, so I haven't heard anything back yet.
Specifically, what Kapersky is telling me is -
Event: Malicious object detected
User: XXXX
User type: Initiator
Application name: explorer.exe
Application path: C:\Windows
Component: File Anti-Virus
Result description: Detected
Type: Trojan
Name: HEUR:Trojan.MSIL.Miner.gen
Precision: Heuristic Analysis
Threat level: High
Object type: File
Object name: RM2 Template Helper.exe
Object path: C:\RM2 Template Helper
MD5 of an object: 7C5B6ECEECC3E6EF01F062F7C2436216
Reason: Machine learning
Databases release date: Today, 4/16/2024 06:41:00
I'm running the usual scans and checking my CPU/memory usage, but seeing nothing unusual there. I did not recently update the Template Helper program, but as you can see, Kaspersky updated today, so I'm guessing it got a new "definition".
THIS MAY VERY WELL BE A FALSE POSITIVE, but I thought I'd check to see if anyone else is having similar issues.
Again, I love this program and if you need custom pages, it's a great solution...but for the moment, I have deleted it and await a conversation with the developer. I will let you all know how it comes out.
2024.04.16 03:17 Hot-Adeptness421 Total Individual Control (Part 1)
Total Individual Control Technology
From Total Individual Control Technology by Omnisense
TechnologyWiki.org Contents:
“It is completely clear that the state which is first to create such weapons will achieve incomparable superiority.”[1]-Major I. Chernishev,Russian Army; US Military Publication - Parameters: The Mind has No Firewall
How it is Done: A microwave transmitter grid of directed energy weapons (e.g. cell phone towers & satellites)
“What is the next great weapon [after nukes], it is directed energy.[4]” ~Ex-CIA Engineer Dr. Robert Duncan
Research and Development (RnD)
Electromagnetic Mind Control Capabilities:
More Electromagnetic Mind Control Details[8]:
Most of the time mind control is detected it is meant to be detected
Brain Wave Cloning[8]
I have heard this called EEG Cloning
submitted by Hot-Adeptness421 to Gangstalking2024 [link] [comments]
From Total Individual Control Technology by Omnisense
TechnologyWiki.org Contents:
- Total Individual Control Technology
- Electromagnetic Weaponry
- Research and Development (RnD)
- Black Project Artificial Intelligence (Ai)
- Neural Monitoring
- Electromagnetic Mind Control
- Memory Manipulation
- Brain Wave Cloning[8]
- Neural Heterodyne[8]
- Synthetic Signals in the Brain[8]
- Body Control[8]
- BCI – Electronic Telepathy / v2k[8]
- Neuroscience Based Virtual Reality – Synthetic Dreams[8]
- Neurobody[8]
- Augmented Reality – AR[8]
- Electromagnetic Scanning Technology[8]
- The Electronic Control Grid[8]
- Social Engineering Programs
- New Age Psychological Operations[15]
- The Covert Technology Side of the New Age[15]
- New Hi-Tech Generation of COINTELPRO
- Electronic Targeting Holocaust
- MKULTRA Cover Stories
- NeuroWeaponry & Artificial Intelligence Quotes
- Most Evil Acts Done by These Technologies
- Perpetrators of a Covert Holocaust
- References
“It is completely clear that the state which is first to create such weapons will achieve incomparable superiority.”[1]-Major I. Chernishev,Russian Army; US Military Publication - Parameters: The Mind has No Firewall
- Black Project Technology Suite: Black project artificial intelligence (the programmable operator of the technology)
- Neural monitoring (Mind surveillance)
- Electromagnetic mind control (radio frequency mind control)
- Brain-computer interface (BCI) technology: electronic telepathy / v2k (Mind
- Neuroscience based virtual reality (Dimension of the mind - the mind’s plane - 3rd eye)
- Neurobody tech (exotic neuroscience)
- Electromagnetic scanning technologies (Precise Ai reconstructed physicality)
How it is Done: A microwave transmitter grid of directed energy weapons (e.g. cell phone towers & satellites)
- Frequency science is being weaponized
- Implantation of the masses (This isn’t in some dystopian future, this has already happened)
- Black project Ai acts as a programmable operator of directed energy weapons
- Existing electromagnetic energy sources can be utilized for covert alternate purposes
- Superior knowledge of psychology & science is being weaponized
- A shadow government cybernetic network oversees operations[2]
“What is the next great weapon [after nukes], it is directed energy.[4]” ~Ex-CIA Engineer Dr. Robert Duncan
Research and Development (RnD)
- Covert & overt experimentation
- Targeted individual experimentation
- Mental illness used heinously as a cover story for research and development
- RnD of directed energy dating at the very latest sometime during Project mkultra
- RnD of radio frequency brain implants
- Electromagnetic frequencies from the body covertly surveilled & measured
- RnD of electromagnetic frequencies for slow kill assassination purposes (e.g. cancer & tumors)
- Research and development of electromagnetic frequencies for fast kill assassination purposes (e.g. Heart attack & stroke)
- Research of electromagnetic frequencies which mimic mental illness
- Mind control programs to cover up the tracks of war crimes
- Nazi concentration camps rumored to be the previous stomping grounds of Project MKUltra scientists (i.e. Operation Paperclip, National Interest / Project 63)
- Extremely low frequency (ELF) waves in brain wave science for mind control purposes
- Black project Ai machine learning RnD
- Advanced diagnostics of the effects of consumables via radio frequency surveillance
- RnD targets tortured monstrously beyond the need for learning
- Sources that finish RnD continue to torture experimentation targets
- Extreme and highly malicious cover ups of experimentation have been orchestrated
- COINTELPRO tactics have been strategically assimilated into mental illness ideology
- Assassination of experimentation targets to cover up war crimes
- Incomprehensible injustice has been perpetrated to develop the ultimate weapon system. “It appears possible through electromagnetic surveillance techniques that effects of consumables such as pharmaceuticals can be measured.” ~Omnisense
- One of the shadow government’s biggest secrets
- Incredibly deep and unknown subject (Ai)
- Post-singularity ability far beyond anything you see in public AI (Decades of perfecting/honing in secrecy)
- Artificial Intelligence + Directed Energy Weapons are behind technological mind control
- Black project Ai oversees Remote Neural Monitoring (Recording and documenting thoughts)
- Potent compartmentalization opportunities for the black ops field
- Controls Directed Energy Weapons
- Remote computerized tracking of targets
- Through brain wave frequency mapping via electronic telepathy all possible static knowledge can be mapped for Ai purposes
- Artificial intelligence models predict the future
- Black project Ai acts as an operator for an electronic telepathy cybernetic secret society
- Administrates surveillance based electronic telepathy
- Administrates surveillance based virtual reality
- Administrates technological remote viewing
- Capable with proper connected surveillance technologies to produce technological ESP
- Lie and exaggeration detection software / hardware
- Serves as a telepathic forum operator (e.g. Cybernetic hive mind)
- NWO cybernetic hive mind secret society has honed and perfected black project Ai for decades
- Black project AI actions hit many birds with one stone “Artificial Intelligence revolutionized the covert ops field.” ~Omnisense
- Black project Ai is central to modern day intelligence profiling
- Black project AIs develop psyche profiles (We are in a surveillance age)
- Simulation of any mind/brain mapped being
- Singularity Ai as a societal engineering assistant
- Ai constructed virtual realities (i.e. Made for synthetic dream psychological operations)
- Interferometry reconstruction (environmental scanning)
- Ai behind technological channeling cosmic being facades
- Electronic telepathy impersonations (PSYOPS)
- Ability to feign emotions
- Potent ability to appear “alive” yet it is not alive
- Black project Ai frequently hides behind “spiritual warfare” cover stories (disembodied spirit illusions)
- An integral component of technological mind tricks ~ technological illusions
- Remote Neural Monitoring reactive targeting Ai
- Black Project Ai + Directed Energy Weapons have prolific torture capability
- Black Project Ai to crunch social media surveillance
- Black Project Ai to Process CCTV / Tablet / Smartphone Surveillance
- Torture and targeting constructs designed and then to be copy pasted to countless targets for automation
- Black project Ai configurations for torture
- Post-singularity AI ponders up ways to create misfortune for targeted individuals
- Worldwide mind control operation coordination (The Electronic Control Grid)
- Ai + Directed Energy Weapons perhaps the tip of the spear of the global conspiracy “It seems AI has the power of the Matrix (in the movie) without the need for us to be in a pod plugged in.” ~Andrew Hale
- Mind reading grid – Spy capabilities beyond most people’s wildest imagination[5][6]
- Neural monitoring turns the human brain into a 5 sense surveillance device In modern day surveillance; Animal senses become spy methods with neural monitoring
- Artificial intelligence keeps track of thought based telepathy files
- Neural monitoring allows for direct recordings of thoughts down to the deepest motivations
- Neural monitoring reactive black project AI afflicts targeted individuals
- Neural monitoring think tanks (e.g. Implanted thoughts in population + mind surveillance)
- Cloning of neural monitored surveilled brain signals
- Brain fingerprint as unique as those on our hands[7]
- Neural monitoring bypasses encryption
- Neural monitoring gives direct access to passwords
- Neural monitoring revolutionized surveillance
- Neural monitoring is pivotal to functional electronic telepathy and electromagnetic mind control
- Neural monitoring based psyche profiles
- Neural monitoring replayed back to a user; Surveillance based electronic telepathy
- Neural monitoring by groups like the NSA yields superior intelligence and event prediction
- Thought surveillance based interrogation exists as an intelligence capability
- Examine the subconscious mind down to concepts with neural monitoring
- Neural monitoring methods will be used in the future courtroom
- Neural monitoring law is spoken of inside the electronic telepathy network
- Neural monitoring methods can also be used on electronic devices
- RNM is an end game surveillance method – A pinnacle science methodology
- Neural monitoring revolutionized the intelligence process “The mind reading grid is fully operational.” ~Omnisense
Electromagnetic Mind Control Capabilities:
- Thought surveillance – Remote neural monitoring
- Full RF mind hacking / mind has no firewall / the brain is open source
- Electronic telepathy / synthetic telepathy / voice to skull – v2k
- Virtual reality – VR / synthetic dreams / artificial dreams
- Dream state and awake VR methods
- Neurobody tech (Synthetic signals in the brain to produce vivid internal body experiences)
- Control of vrain wave states
- EEG Cloning
- Cloning of the senses
- Cloning of any variable of consciousness
- Cloning of pain signals
- Cloning of pleasure signals
- Implantation of concepts
- Implanted conscious energy (often served to corroborate implanted ideologies)
- Potent control of perception / remote controlled perception
- Thought suppression / mind debilitation
- This technology is shrouded in illusions (e.g. People think it is demons, jinn, God, Jesus, holy spirit, etc)
- Memory manipulation (Implanted memories, restricted memories, fragmented memories, dimmed memories, deleted memories)
- Translation from concept to linguistic control
- Speech control (e.g. Forced speech, covert and overt methodology)
- Control of body language
- Control of facial expressions
- Cloning of remote neural monitored surveilled signals
- Body control (eyes, limbs, you name it, it can be controlled)
- Altering of neural muscle memory “Electromagnetic weaponry was the holy grail of Project MK Ultra.” ~Omnisense
- Technological possession (often construed by the controllers as ‘demonic’ if overt)
- Technological channeling (often construed as a facade that the channeler is dealing with cosmic beings instead of RF mind hacking + artificial intelligence)
- Control of hypnotic and other types of regressions
- Negation of the soul’s influence on consciousness (Soulular attributes, soulular wisdom)
- Negation of one’s life learned lessons – Conceptual knowledge fragmentation
- Artificial OBE experience
- Artificial NDE experience
- Synthetic astral experience
- Creation of synthetic but very authentic feeling shamanic or psychedelic experiences
- Technological remote viewing presented as natural ability
- Ability to provide an equivalent to psychic ESP for psy ops or agent purposes Technological black out
- Electromagnetic stimulants / synthetic insomnia
- Synthetic optics
- Synthetic hearing
- Synthetic tastes / enhancing of food – flavor augmentation
- Synthetic smells / olfactory synthesis
- Synthetic emotions / mastering of emotions
- Synthetic euphoria / enhancing of euphoria
- Synthetic pain signals / enhancing of pain signals
- Synthetic sensations of any variety (both positive feeling and negative)
- Extreme levels of pain and suffering are possible via directed energy neuroscience
- Psychological trauma beyond natural maximum can be reached via RF mind hacking
- Pain tolerance matrix alteration
- “Electromagnetic mind control programs have been taking place for half a century already and they are just beginning to be exposed.” ~Omnisense
- RF music enhancing – electromagnetic mind control used to enhance music
- Various forms of mind augmentation (e.g. memory, intellect, body coordination)
- Various forms of pleasure signal enhancement (e.g. comfort, massage, sex)
- Orgasmic sensations of any intensity anywhere on the body at will
- Enhancing of the senses / sensory augmentation
- Sensory deprivation / Sensory substitution
- Enhancing or inhibiting of performance
- Temporary creation or negation of any mental illness symptom
- Temporary creation or negation of psychopathic or sociopathic tendencies
- Negation of empathy / heart suppression
- Control of hunger feelings
- Control of the conscious focal point (Perceptional focus)
- Control of motivation
- Emotional blunting / numbing of the consciousness / suppression of emotions
- Mimicked cellular addiction symptoms
- Disassociation from the body
- Compression of consciousness / expansion of consciousness
- Neural heterodyne
- Subtractive version of neural heterodyne
- Negation of any conscious variable (e.g. Pain, Memory, Emotion, Ingenuity, Analytical Thought, etc)
- 3D sound
- v2k voice cloning
- v2k voice morphing
- Control of discernment / Suppression of discernment
- Negation of true analytical thought – Synthesized analytical thought
- Control of logic and how one sees that logic
- Control of how awake or tired one is
- Control of how buzzed or “high” one is on any substance
- Influence of visual perception (e.g. ability to make stars appear like they are moving)
- Emotion amplification (reference: Tyrone Dew’s 1st video with Robert Duncan) “Electromagnetic neuroscience; The mind is open source.” ~Omnisense
- Interfacing someone else’s emotion / tears
- Negating awareness of social standards & etiquette
- Neural conditioning
- Internal voice synthesis
- Thought sonorization (training the brain to think in words instead of concepts and images)
- De-personalization
- Electromagnetic drugging
- Synthetic mind programming – Open source mind programming
- Synthetic sexual anhedonia / arousal
- Technologically induced sexual attraction for literally anyone is possible
- Synthetic ADHD symptoms
- Synthetic apathy
- Synthetic anxiety / synthetic stress
- Synthetic intolerances or cravings to various foods
- Creation of nausea via synthetic brain signals
- 3D sound via directed energy to the brain
- Auditory clicks only audible inside the target’s mind
- Character reorientation
- Control of vocabulary usage
- Temporary suppression of vocabulary
- Control of decision making process, suppression of quality of decision making process
- Suppression or augmentation of masculinity
- Suppression or augmentation of feminine qualities
- Compartmentalization of the Mind
- Technology can create illusory symptoms of any real ailment/illness by reproducing the same brain signals as the illness
- Manipulation of the micro-conceptual spectrum
- Subconscious control / subliminal programming
- Control of the mind in all it’s different facets
- RF Manipulation of Perception
- There are directed energy neuroscience methods that can acutely control the perception
- Open source perception via electromagnetic radiation neuroscience to a specific part of the brain
- Incomprehensibly potent; words do not describe it well
- Commonly happening with what targets term as gangstalking or organized stalking
- I have witnessed acute control of my perception in technological street theatre experiences that were related to my targeting
- Electromagnetic neuroscience controlling the perception is extremely powerful
- I have had mind control experiences controlling my perception in a way that it is completely automated and 100% AI controlled
- Any aspect of what is within one’s perception can be forcibly removed undetectably (e.g. Detection of pain can be removed so that the target does not realize their body is hurt)
- While electromagnetic weaponry has the capability to completely hijack perception, I do not advocate abandoning trust in your own perception, just awareness of fallibility.
More Electromagnetic Mind Control Details[8]:
Most of the time mind control is detected it is meant to be detected
- Covert mind control programs are infecting society
- The New Age belief system appears as if it was designed with electromagnetic mind control in mind
- Electromagnetic mind control can falsify a traditional or BCI based lie detector (e.g. to slander a true testimony, to clear the name of a criminal)
- Contrary to what disinformation sources say, electromagnetic mind control aka brain wave science works on anything with a living brain
- There is a neuro-tech revolution coming to the public domain soon that will utilize electromagnetic neuroscience
Brain Wave Cloning[8]
I have heard this called EEG Cloning
- Cloning of body language – control of body language on a target copy pasted from another persons neural monitoring profile
- Cloning of facial expressions
- Olfactory cloning – Cloning of smells
- Auditory cloning – Cloning of perceivable sounds
- Cloning of emotions
- Cloning of the Senses – Cloning of surveilled senses
- Cloning of surveilled pain signals
- Cloning of surveilled pleasure signals
- Cloning of any surveilled conscious experience
- Cloning of any surveilled mental variable
- Cloned sense experiences as a form of electronic harassment torture
- Surveilled signals can be heterodyned into organic signals
- Organic signals can be negated while cloned signals are applied
- Intelligence agencies have comprehensive databases of body movements to clone for rigging of pro sports
- The CIA has decades of global population neural monitoring data to clone mental variables from one person to another
- Overt sense clone tortures for targeted individuals
- Covert tortures utilizing cloning of the senses are being perpetrated
- Brain wave clones can be made into derivatives “Any mental variable can be cloned from one person to the next.” ~Omnisense
- Visuals can be inhibited or enhanced
- Taste/Smell can be inhibited or enhanced
- Auditory signals can be inhibited or enhanced
- Emotions can be inhibited or enhanced
- Concepts can be inhibited or enhanced
- Pain/Suffering can be inhibited or enhanced
- Psychological Trauma / Stress can be inhibited or enhanced
- Additional tastes & smells can be applied (I am being harassed with synthetic smells)
- Additional auditory effects can be applied (Auditory effects can have a 3D embodiment)
- All sense experiences can be mastered with these technologies
2024.04.11 06:18 Chemical-Bus-6524 When my wife died, I discovered her double life and the plundering of our family
TLDR: After a long and difficult 20-year marriage, my wife dies of a stroke and I discover that she has lived a double life with a lover and that she stole our youngest daughter's college fund for him
Hello, Reddit friends. This is my first post here. Since English is not my first language, and since this story spans several years, I apologize if I don't have the best prose or if I give too much detail. I will make an effort to be synthetic and to express myself clearly. Still, it's a long story.
I ask for advice and comments from all of you. I have read many posts on these topics and, although there are always aggressive people in them, I see the majority of well-intentioned people wanting to help. I thank you in advance for your patience and kindness.
I am a 48 year old man. Let's say my name is Arthur. I have been widowed for two years. My late wife (I'll call her Amelia) and I met at work 25 years ago, got married 23 years ago, and were together for 20 years. She was two years older than me. A very attractive young woman, a little “punk” and charismatic. She had a fine face, colorful hair and a distinguished and magnetic physique. I was a good-looking guy then, and although I'm not tall, I was fit, and I'm light-skinned, which in our country (I'm not from the US, but from Latin America) is not so common.
I knew that she had a very active social and sentimental life, while I was (and am) a more introverted guy, with good but few friends, very fond of reading and sports. Although I'm quite the rocker, I had a more conservative upbringing, especially when it came to family and relationships. I would never discriminate or be offensive to anyone for being who they are, but I believe in traditional family for myself.
She and I became friends because we shared an afternoon shift at the company where we worked. I was engaged to a gorgeous girl and Amelia, on her side, was dating a lot of guys. I found her attractive, but I was engaged and, like I said, I'm a traditional guy. My girlfriend was less showy but no less beautiful than Amelia and I was happy.
But one day, my girlfriend told me that her life plan was to finish university and pursue studies abroad. Her family was too controlling (which is common in my country) and did not want her to study more. But she aspired to be a top academic and she wanted to pursue postgraduate studies. For my part, I had a good job and many prospects for growth at 23 years old and I didn't want to get away from my family and friends, nor did I want to leave the country. So, reluctantly, and because we couldn't make our visions coincide, we broke off the engagement. She went to another country and has lived abroad since then.
Around that time my friendship with Amelia strengthened. She told me that she was right not to get married and took me to a party. She tried to go further, but I told her that she preferred us to be friends for now, because she was still affected by my breakup. She accepted. But a few months later, she suddenly quit the job and with her severance money (there was a voluntary retirement program in the company at that time) she went to travel around Europe for a few months. I regretted her departure, but I continued doing my thing. Amelia started sending me a lot of messages through ICQ and Messenger and the services of those times (around the year 2000). Our friendship grew stronger and when she returned, about seven months later, we started dating.
She insisted on testing us for STDs before having sex. I accepted even though I knew he was healthy, because my ex-fiancée and I took great care of each other and were faithful. But Amelia had had a troubled life. I came out clean from the tests. She said she did too. We started having sex and, although we took care of each other, within a few months she became pregnant. I was happy and told him that we should have the child and get married. She took it very differently. She was upset and scared. It took her a few days to accept. She finally did it and we rushed to get married. It was a simple wedding, in front of our closest families and our closest friends.
The problems began soon. The first was that we began to go to medical appointments for pregnancy check-ups (in my country they are mandatory, both with public social security and with private services). There, through a distraction from her gynecologist, I learned that Amelia had had an abortion shortly before and that she had HPV (human papillomavirus). By the time, the abortion had been performed just before her resignation from her job and her trip to Europe. I got tested and discovered that she also already had HPV. She hadn't told me anything about the abortion. Nor HPV: quite the opposite, she told me that she had come out clean in her analysis. She agreed to have skipped that point because HPV “is harmful in women and does nothing for men,” she said. I felt shocked (I have said that I am a bit traditional) but I was very much in love and Amelia added that she had decided to abort because the child was not her then boyfriend's, but another guy's and she did not want it, but now she was committed to the pregnancy .
I know that can be considered a big red flag, but let's remember that I was in love, I had just turned 24 and I was convinced, because Amelia told me at the time, that she wanted to change her life and settle down with me and our son. So I decided to stick to the idea that my relationship with her was a “clean slate” between the two of us. The doctor gave me a quick talk about HPV and I have never had any problems with it, no warts or, thank God, cancer. I check myself frequently anyway.
Our son was born, Amelia and I took care of him, and little by little we consolidated a family. Amelia found a good job. Although not everything was easy, we grew up, and three years later we had a second child, this time a girl. I felt great happiness. Amelia was a very dedicated mother, I was a very present father, and we both worked hard for our family.
But things were not going perfectly and the second serious problem came then. Amelia had ups and downs of character. Although to people outside she was a perfect wife, loving and fun, at home she was moody, silent and distant. She sometimes had outbursts of aggression. I tactfully asked him to see a doctor. She made an appointment with a psychologist and he referred her to a psychiatrist. They ordered her to have some tests done. Amelia said she would be under observation. She later said that she had been prescribed a mild medication for anxiety.
One day, when our daughter was three years old, my mother-in-law asked us to take the children with her for the weekend, to her house, to spend the night and cook and play. We accept. I thought that would give us time for a weekend alone, maybe a romantic outing. I had proposed doing it several times, but Amelia only wanted to travel with the kids and she always postponed or rejected any plans alone.
The truth is that our intimate life was not very active. I looked for her a lot, because she was still in love with her and she was very beautiful and desirable, but she always said that she didn't feel like it. She later said that the medicine didn't help her libido either. I was frustrated, but I respected her denials. I tried to talk about it and suggested going to therapy, but she refused.
Well, on Friday of that weekend, I planned for us to go to the movies and have a drink in our same neighborhood. I explained it to her and she accepted, but she said that she had a commitment for noon. We agreed to meet at the house before dinner time. I felt like it was a first date; I went to get a haircut, bought a new shirt and some perfume (I didn't usually wear them, I'm more of the type that smells like soap and deodorant). Everything to be attractive to her.
But Amelia didn't arrive. She sent me a message saying that she was with a friend and that she would come later. She twice added other messages delaying her arrival. She took so long that I fell asleep. I was very sad and upset and took a sleeping pill. I woke up because she made noise when she arrived. It was five o'clock in the morning. She smelled of alcohol. She told me that she and her friends had been drinking up to half an hour before. I was furious and upset and I didn't want to hear her and I rolled over in bed. She didn't try to say anything else.
There were a few years of almost total estrangement. I was very hurt, but my mother and my close friends advised me to calm down and talk to her. I didn't want to take the risk of being away from my children and I focused on them and my work. I grew a lot in employment in those years and we began to have a much better standard of living. We were able to buy a house and another property, change cars frequently and take long vacations around the country and some nearby countries.
But the relationship between Amelia and I was at a standstill. She wouldn't come near me, and I was hurt in my corner. We go years without having intimate relationships. Amelia was now a middle class lady, with a suburban car to go wherever she wanted, good clothes and money for a gym, pool and beauty salon. I was a well-paid executive, respected in her industry and envied by some.
Some will ask me why I resisted so much, if we were going nowhere. Well, I didn't sit around doing nothing. We went to several couples therapies that failed because Amelia boycotted them in one way or another. I tried every few weeks to approach her and talk in depth, she constantly told her what I was attracted to and what I loved her about. Our children are also great kids, loving and have never caused any serious problems. As a person who believed in God, she also had faith that Amelia would eventually understand that she was harming her family and would stop. She often accepted that her behavior was harmful, she promised to go to therapy and changed for a while. But she always relapsed. Yes, I know I should have been more firm perhaps, but love for Amelia blinded me for many years. I just wanted us to be happy.
Then came a very good streak in my job. I won several projects that gave me good bonuses and, in particular, I won the direction of a project that required me to live an entire year in Europe. I was happy. I could go with the whole family and my children would have a bilingual school, I would receive a good additional salary and we would also have time to travel and see different countries, because the distances in Western Europe are comparatively short with those of America. Amelia, in theory, loved Europe and had encouraged me to fight for that project and move it forward.
But when I won it, it went down. Her mood became worse than ever, and she went from being distant to being rude and unpleasant to me. She even began to attack our children, who were already teenagers and whom, when they were children, she always treated in a severe but considerate and non-violent way. Although we traveled a lot and saw wonderful works, landscapes and people, our memories of Europe are quite bitter. Amelia became worse than ever in terms of aggression. She became jealous and controlling of me and our children and increasingly secretive about herself. Her entire family gathered her and we talked to her and told her that she was hurting us and that she needed to stop and get care from her. I supported my children to express themselves freely. Amelia was very shocked, she said, by our prospects and she promised to go to treatment. She admitted to having stopped taking her medication and to having lied about the supposed online therapy she was receiving when we asked her about her mental health issues.
When we returned to our country things got worse, because the covid pandemic began, which affected the whole world. Although we could do our work from home without problems, and the children's schools also quickly started their online programs, the environment was terrible. Amelia left the family room and moved to the studio where she worked, on another floor of the house. She told me that it was a recommendation from a new psychologist, whom she began to consult.
Things were deteriorating. She spent days locked up, she sometimes stopped bathing for two or three days, when at home we always used to shower daily. Even the person who worked in the housekeeping, a woman of a certain age, told me that she felt unpleasant towards her. She didn't want me to clean her study or put away her things. Amelia was always estranged from her family and she only spoke to a couple of friends, named Chaundra and Beth. They were from different backgrounds and were not friends with each other. Chaundra was a woman very given to talking about vibes and horoscopes. Beth was more sensible. I always thought that she was an intelligent woman and that she was a good influence on Amelia, because she was interested in art and history and other subjects. But Amelia was getting closer to Chaundra and less to Beth.
From a receipt from our cable company, I discovered that Amelia was renting adult movies on the PPV service. I attributed it to her extreme loneliness and didn't think much of it. But then one day, she asked me to help her with her computer, because she was paralyzed by a virus. Upon cleaning her of viruses, I discovered that she was full of pornography. Even degrading things, which surprised and distressed me. I am not a puritan and I consider sexuality to be natural and desirable, even without love involved, if two people agree to do it for fun. But the things Amelia looked at gave me a feeling of anxiety, of not knowing anything about my wife.
Then came the crisis. Amelia, one day, accused me of cheating on her. She had gone to check my messages on my cell phone (which I left without a password, because I didn't feel like I had anything to hide) and she found some conversations that I had had with that ex-fiancée from so many years before in recent months. And yes: we had resumed contact, but not for something sexual by any means. She, as I said, lived outside the country. Through mutual friends I learned that her youngest son (she was married and had two children) had been hospitalized due to Covid, and was seriously ill, so I sent her a message wishing her everything was fine. She thanked me and told me that the child, fortunately, had overcome the illness. And we began to talk, from time to time, about our lives and our children. These talks were never sexual in any way, nor did they have sexual allusions of any kind. The most intimate thing we did was remember, laughing, our first date, which took place next to a well-known monument in our city. Well, those talks upset Amelia, who accused me of being unfaithful and asked me to divorce her.
My patience is over. I talked to my children, and explained everything to them in detail, even showing them the chats. I added to them, which was true, that if their mother and mine's relationship had even been regular and if she had not stopped talking to me for months and had moved rooms, it was likely that I would never have chatted so many times (it was a few eight or nine) with that ex-fiancee, now a renowned and married academic who lived ten thousand kilometers away.
Amelia kept her promise and left the house. She lived for a few days with Chaundra before renting a small house a five-minute walk from our home. She told me that she needed a period of reflection but that then she would claim custody of the boys. That seemed unreal to me: our oldest son was about to move out of town to go to university and our youngest would take just a little longer to do so. Maybe two years and a few more months. I talked to the boys. My oldest son, who has always had a mediating nature, said that perhaps spending those remaining months in the city with her mother would help her. My daughter thought the same. I felt sad but I accepted.
Amelia lived alone, with hardly any contact with us, for four months. She sometimes summoned me to her new house. One of them even talked about how she could only forgive me for my “infidelity” if we had sex in her new bed. I was very taken aback, but I agreed and we had sex for the first time in years. Only Amelia asked me to use protection. I knew she couldn't get pregnant, because she asked for tubal ligament surgery when our youngest daughter was born. I asked him for explanations. She told me that she was taking treatment for HPV and the doctor had told her that she should use protection during sex. After that, and despite the fact that she sent aggressive messages usually only asking me for more money than we agreed that I would give her monthly to support herself, she also began sending me sexually explicit photos of herself and making suggestive comments. I thought that this could be the beginning of a solution and the way to overcome the crisis and I accepted those advances. But it was as if they were two different people: there was an aggressive, tough Amelia, interested in money and who wanted a divorce, and another more similar to the girl I knew in my youth, daring, provocative, playful and sexy. I started going to therapy because I didn't know what to do.
Our children went with her when they were four months old. From the first day they told me that Amelia was aggressive and harsh with them, that she made constant allusions of disdain towards me, and she accused them of being on my side. They then confessed to me that they had “chosen” to go with her because Amelia contacted them and threatened to commit suicide if they didn't. In our culture, talking about mental health is taboo. They were very intimidated by her mother and didn't tell me anything at first. Then Amelia denied everything when I confronted her. My children told me that Amelia and Beth had grown apart and ended their friendship. I was sorry, because Beth was a positive influence and she was always kind and empathetic to us and our children. It was obvious that things were getting out of control.
They were terrible months. Amelia was verbally violent with our children and me. Then she stopped talking to them and locked herself in. And she told people that I was making her miserable, even though I covered all the expenses and had had to accept much more work than normal to support the family's “new arrangement.”
Then came the end. My older brother died suddenly one day of a heart attack. It was a blow for me. Amelia was very tender and supportive at first, but the next day she looked for me and she made a series of ironic and out of place comments about my brother's death. I asked her not to do them and she scoffed saying that if anything it was “too soon.” I exploded. I asked him to cut off all contact except for matters involving our children. A few weeks later, our son moved to college. He left crying. His mother had insulted him before leaving, telling him that he would never do anything in life without her mother and calling him a traitor for leaving her. For my son, who has always been a great boy, it was very hard to hear himself called that.
His next victim was our youngest daughter. She started harassing her and getting too strict. She didn't give him permission to see her friends, or to have a boyfriend (she was 16, she was starting to date boys), she obsessively checked his phone and iPad. I swore to all our mutual friends that I had a lover of hers and that as soon as we divorced I would marry her. And if they asked who she was, she gave the name of my ex-fiancée (who, as I already said, is a married woman, with children, with an important academic position and in a very distant country). Many mutual friends believed it and began to treat me coldly.
There were some terrible months of loneliness, missing my children and always having to defend the little girl from her mother, who harassed her in every possible way. We began divorce proceedings and I asked for custody of my daughter. The girl agreed. Amelia was furious about this and she blocked the divorce until we agreed on joint custody, although I managed to make my house the main one.
Everything happened so fast that it was like a bad dream. One day, I received a call from Amelia's cell phone. It was Chaundra. Amelia had fainted while they were running through the park and they had to call the paramedics. When I arrived, she was gone. She died suddenly. Doctors said she had a stroke. The autopsy found nothing conclusive. I asked the doctors if maybe she had had a serious problem for years without us knowing, and that would explain her behavioral problems, her aggression, her emotional swings. The doctor did some more tests and analysis and could not conclude anything either. “Sometimes people just act badly and it's not because of their organs,” he told me.
I felt terrible. Not only had I lost the most important woman in my life, and mother of my children, but I felt overwhelming guilt. Maybe if I had forced her to take care of herself and treat herself and exhaust all medical avenues, we could have had another life, and she could have stayed alive, in fact. The doctor told me not to torture me, that many deadly problems escape all analysis. The truth is that the tests that were performed on Amelia at the time found no signs of anything abnormal. In the autopsy they also did not find tumors, malformations, parasites or anything strange. Just the effusion, a venous problem.
The first months were tremendous. We all fell into depression. I asked my son, one time when he visited us, that he take charge of closing Amelia's social accounts and recovering family photos from her phone and computer. I forgot what I had seen on that machine when she and I were still together. My son started to check, but he stopped almost immediately and told me: “Dad, you have to take care of this.”
I started doing that review. And my world collapsed even more in a few minutes.
I discovered that Amelia had a lover, that she had had him all these years. The guy who had gotten her pregnant the first time. Let's say his name was Emmett. I found years of messages, emails, photographs, audios. It was terrible. I spent days like crazy, reading and listening and watching all that nightmare material. Remember that Amelia gave me HPV? Ah, well her origin was in this little guy. Do you remember that one night she didn't come home? Well guess who she was with in a seedy motel. Do you remember that she collapsed when I told her that we were going to live in Europe for a year and that there she behaved like a demon with us, her husband and her children? Well, it was because for a year she would have to be away from Emmett.
With Emmett, as I saw in the messages and emails, Amelia was sexy, mischievous, spicy, sweet, funny, kind, understanding. Regardless of the moment. Although they drifted apart at times (Emmett had been married, had children, and had gotten divorced), they always came back to talk, see each other, and do everything they did together. I realized that my worst times with Amelia had been my best with Emmett; and the best, those in which Emmett had disappeared from the scene for an extended time. Over the years they took advantage of technology and went from using email, ICQ and Messenger to using Skype, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp. And they had a romance that lasted the same length as my marriage, but with a lot more sex and fun. While I was breaking my back working for my family and doing my part in raising our wonderful children, she fulfilled her family duties, yes, but she let her marriage collapse and she secretly hooked up with someone else.
It devastated me to know that Emmett and Amelia were making fun of me, that they called me “Mr. Important,” and that Amelia said I was a desperate teenage lover, while Emmett was “perfect.” I also realized that she went from speaking well of our children, while they were children and docile, to continually complaining about them as they grew older and became more independent.
But the worst blow was yet to come. When, a few months later, I thought I was over all that (I talked to my son to find out what he had seen: luckily, he had only seen the porn part), another problem came. For years, we saved some college funds for our children. They were charged from the common account, in which there were always more than enough resources. With that money our son was able to move. Well, when the time came to collect my daughter's college savings, I discovered that Amelia had collected it early and there was no longer a cent. It was devastating.
The problem is not money, because luckily I have a good job and I can pay for whatever is necessary. The problem is the betrayal of his daughter, of the trust of her family. And the worst thing is that that money, as I found out in the messages with Emmett, was that he had given that money to the guy, without having any kind of document signed, like a “support gift.” Emmett was going through a tough time financially, because he was a good-for-nothing divorcee with a bad job who had a hard time paying his own child support. So Amelia gave him our daughter's college money.
I went crazy. I called the insurance company to complain and they told me that they had notified me by postal letter and email about the issue. I never saw those emails, of course. Deep in my problems with Amelia, I was stupid enough to think that these were common bills, like the ones that arrived every month, and I didn't check them. Both Amelia and I were legal representatives and could withdraw the money ourselves, without the other's signature or authorization. The type of contract one signs when one trusts one's partner.
So not only have I discovered that my entire life was a lie, but we lost my daughter's college money. To add further frustration, when I was going through my old messages I found one from Beth, Amelia's former friend, who told me that Amelia had confessed to her about her affair with Emmett. Beth, who is a person of conscience and dignity, was horrified, asked to end the friendship and sent me a message telling me everything. Which I didn't see until it was too late. I don't know how much I could have improved the scenario if she had been able to do something then, when she sent me that email that I didn't open either. Maybe I would have saved that savings. Maybe Amelia could have been treated. Don't know.
I am devastated, confused, broken, and I don't know what else to do. I texted Beth, told her my discoveries, and asked her to tell me everything she knows, in detail, to see if I can find traces of the money or a way to get it back. I thought about confronting Emmett, but on the one hand I think I would get violent with him if I saw him. And, on the other hand, there is no document in which he undertakes to return that money. He can say it was a gift and it would be difficult to prove that he wasn't. The audios and messages that talk about it are ambiguous and I doubt that a court will be able to make the guy return the money. And I don't think his conscience moves him to do it. What conscience, if he was the lover of a married woman for more than twenty years, even when he himself had a family?
My final pain was the suspicion that my children were not really mine, although they bear a good physical resemblance to my family. Both Amelia and I have light skin and our children are like that, while Emmett has more “Latin” skin (at least how they see us Latinos in the USA), although with European features. I convinced my children to take some tests on a DNA website (I know they are not 100% exact but it could be an approximation), to learn more about our European and indigenous ancestors, because I did not want to tell them anything about my suspicions and accumulate suffering in Their backs. The tests showed a very high correspondence with me. I breathed. I told them that the results had not come back clear and then we did have a full paternity test, which confirmed that they are one hundred percent mine. That's one of the few happinesses I've had lately.
Anyway. This is my history. It is hard and sad and I hope that none of you reading has gone through something like this or will ever go through something like this in your lives. I would like to confront Emmett or find a way to get that money back, but I don't know how. Maybe when I talk to Beth I'll find out more details and something will occur to me. For now this is the end. I am infinitely grateful to those who have reached this point in my story. I will also greatly appreciate your comments and advice.
Thank you all.
submitted by Chemical-Bus-6524 to Infidelity [link] [comments]
Hello, Reddit friends. This is my first post here. Since English is not my first language, and since this story spans several years, I apologize if I don't have the best prose or if I give too much detail. I will make an effort to be synthetic and to express myself clearly. Still, it's a long story.
I ask for advice and comments from all of you. I have read many posts on these topics and, although there are always aggressive people in them, I see the majority of well-intentioned people wanting to help. I thank you in advance for your patience and kindness.
I am a 48 year old man. Let's say my name is Arthur. I have been widowed for two years. My late wife (I'll call her Amelia) and I met at work 25 years ago, got married 23 years ago, and were together for 20 years. She was two years older than me. A very attractive young woman, a little “punk” and charismatic. She had a fine face, colorful hair and a distinguished and magnetic physique. I was a good-looking guy then, and although I'm not tall, I was fit, and I'm light-skinned, which in our country (I'm not from the US, but from Latin America) is not so common.
I knew that she had a very active social and sentimental life, while I was (and am) a more introverted guy, with good but few friends, very fond of reading and sports. Although I'm quite the rocker, I had a more conservative upbringing, especially when it came to family and relationships. I would never discriminate or be offensive to anyone for being who they are, but I believe in traditional family for myself.
She and I became friends because we shared an afternoon shift at the company where we worked. I was engaged to a gorgeous girl and Amelia, on her side, was dating a lot of guys. I found her attractive, but I was engaged and, like I said, I'm a traditional guy. My girlfriend was less showy but no less beautiful than Amelia and I was happy.
But one day, my girlfriend told me that her life plan was to finish university and pursue studies abroad. Her family was too controlling (which is common in my country) and did not want her to study more. But she aspired to be a top academic and she wanted to pursue postgraduate studies. For my part, I had a good job and many prospects for growth at 23 years old and I didn't want to get away from my family and friends, nor did I want to leave the country. So, reluctantly, and because we couldn't make our visions coincide, we broke off the engagement. She went to another country and has lived abroad since then.
Around that time my friendship with Amelia strengthened. She told me that she was right not to get married and took me to a party. She tried to go further, but I told her that she preferred us to be friends for now, because she was still affected by my breakup. She accepted. But a few months later, she suddenly quit the job and with her severance money (there was a voluntary retirement program in the company at that time) she went to travel around Europe for a few months. I regretted her departure, but I continued doing my thing. Amelia started sending me a lot of messages through ICQ and Messenger and the services of those times (around the year 2000). Our friendship grew stronger and when she returned, about seven months later, we started dating.
She insisted on testing us for STDs before having sex. I accepted even though I knew he was healthy, because my ex-fiancée and I took great care of each other and were faithful. But Amelia had had a troubled life. I came out clean from the tests. She said she did too. We started having sex and, although we took care of each other, within a few months she became pregnant. I was happy and told him that we should have the child and get married. She took it very differently. She was upset and scared. It took her a few days to accept. She finally did it and we rushed to get married. It was a simple wedding, in front of our closest families and our closest friends.
The problems began soon. The first was that we began to go to medical appointments for pregnancy check-ups (in my country they are mandatory, both with public social security and with private services). There, through a distraction from her gynecologist, I learned that Amelia had had an abortion shortly before and that she had HPV (human papillomavirus). By the time, the abortion had been performed just before her resignation from her job and her trip to Europe. I got tested and discovered that she also already had HPV. She hadn't told me anything about the abortion. Nor HPV: quite the opposite, she told me that she had come out clean in her analysis. She agreed to have skipped that point because HPV “is harmful in women and does nothing for men,” she said. I felt shocked (I have said that I am a bit traditional) but I was very much in love and Amelia added that she had decided to abort because the child was not her then boyfriend's, but another guy's and she did not want it, but now she was committed to the pregnancy .
I know that can be considered a big red flag, but let's remember that I was in love, I had just turned 24 and I was convinced, because Amelia told me at the time, that she wanted to change her life and settle down with me and our son. So I decided to stick to the idea that my relationship with her was a “clean slate” between the two of us. The doctor gave me a quick talk about HPV and I have never had any problems with it, no warts or, thank God, cancer. I check myself frequently anyway.
Our son was born, Amelia and I took care of him, and little by little we consolidated a family. Amelia found a good job. Although not everything was easy, we grew up, and three years later we had a second child, this time a girl. I felt great happiness. Amelia was a very dedicated mother, I was a very present father, and we both worked hard for our family.
But things were not going perfectly and the second serious problem came then. Amelia had ups and downs of character. Although to people outside she was a perfect wife, loving and fun, at home she was moody, silent and distant. She sometimes had outbursts of aggression. I tactfully asked him to see a doctor. She made an appointment with a psychologist and he referred her to a psychiatrist. They ordered her to have some tests done. Amelia said she would be under observation. She later said that she had been prescribed a mild medication for anxiety.
One day, when our daughter was three years old, my mother-in-law asked us to take the children with her for the weekend, to her house, to spend the night and cook and play. We accept. I thought that would give us time for a weekend alone, maybe a romantic outing. I had proposed doing it several times, but Amelia only wanted to travel with the kids and she always postponed or rejected any plans alone.
The truth is that our intimate life was not very active. I looked for her a lot, because she was still in love with her and she was very beautiful and desirable, but she always said that she didn't feel like it. She later said that the medicine didn't help her libido either. I was frustrated, but I respected her denials. I tried to talk about it and suggested going to therapy, but she refused.
Well, on Friday of that weekend, I planned for us to go to the movies and have a drink in our same neighborhood. I explained it to her and she accepted, but she said that she had a commitment for noon. We agreed to meet at the house before dinner time. I felt like it was a first date; I went to get a haircut, bought a new shirt and some perfume (I didn't usually wear them, I'm more of the type that smells like soap and deodorant). Everything to be attractive to her.
But Amelia didn't arrive. She sent me a message saying that she was with a friend and that she would come later. She twice added other messages delaying her arrival. She took so long that I fell asleep. I was very sad and upset and took a sleeping pill. I woke up because she made noise when she arrived. It was five o'clock in the morning. She smelled of alcohol. She told me that she and her friends had been drinking up to half an hour before. I was furious and upset and I didn't want to hear her and I rolled over in bed. She didn't try to say anything else.
There were a few years of almost total estrangement. I was very hurt, but my mother and my close friends advised me to calm down and talk to her. I didn't want to take the risk of being away from my children and I focused on them and my work. I grew a lot in employment in those years and we began to have a much better standard of living. We were able to buy a house and another property, change cars frequently and take long vacations around the country and some nearby countries.
But the relationship between Amelia and I was at a standstill. She wouldn't come near me, and I was hurt in my corner. We go years without having intimate relationships. Amelia was now a middle class lady, with a suburban car to go wherever she wanted, good clothes and money for a gym, pool and beauty salon. I was a well-paid executive, respected in her industry and envied by some.
Some will ask me why I resisted so much, if we were going nowhere. Well, I didn't sit around doing nothing. We went to several couples therapies that failed because Amelia boycotted them in one way or another. I tried every few weeks to approach her and talk in depth, she constantly told her what I was attracted to and what I loved her about. Our children are also great kids, loving and have never caused any serious problems. As a person who believed in God, she also had faith that Amelia would eventually understand that she was harming her family and would stop. She often accepted that her behavior was harmful, she promised to go to therapy and changed for a while. But she always relapsed. Yes, I know I should have been more firm perhaps, but love for Amelia blinded me for many years. I just wanted us to be happy.
Then came a very good streak in my job. I won several projects that gave me good bonuses and, in particular, I won the direction of a project that required me to live an entire year in Europe. I was happy. I could go with the whole family and my children would have a bilingual school, I would receive a good additional salary and we would also have time to travel and see different countries, because the distances in Western Europe are comparatively short with those of America. Amelia, in theory, loved Europe and had encouraged me to fight for that project and move it forward.
But when I won it, it went down. Her mood became worse than ever, and she went from being distant to being rude and unpleasant to me. She even began to attack our children, who were already teenagers and whom, when they were children, she always treated in a severe but considerate and non-violent way. Although we traveled a lot and saw wonderful works, landscapes and people, our memories of Europe are quite bitter. Amelia became worse than ever in terms of aggression. She became jealous and controlling of me and our children and increasingly secretive about herself. Her entire family gathered her and we talked to her and told her that she was hurting us and that she needed to stop and get care from her. I supported my children to express themselves freely. Amelia was very shocked, she said, by our prospects and she promised to go to treatment. She admitted to having stopped taking her medication and to having lied about the supposed online therapy she was receiving when we asked her about her mental health issues.
When we returned to our country things got worse, because the covid pandemic began, which affected the whole world. Although we could do our work from home without problems, and the children's schools also quickly started their online programs, the environment was terrible. Amelia left the family room and moved to the studio where she worked, on another floor of the house. She told me that it was a recommendation from a new psychologist, whom she began to consult.
Things were deteriorating. She spent days locked up, she sometimes stopped bathing for two or three days, when at home we always used to shower daily. Even the person who worked in the housekeeping, a woman of a certain age, told me that she felt unpleasant towards her. She didn't want me to clean her study or put away her things. Amelia was always estranged from her family and she only spoke to a couple of friends, named Chaundra and Beth. They were from different backgrounds and were not friends with each other. Chaundra was a woman very given to talking about vibes and horoscopes. Beth was more sensible. I always thought that she was an intelligent woman and that she was a good influence on Amelia, because she was interested in art and history and other subjects. But Amelia was getting closer to Chaundra and less to Beth.
From a receipt from our cable company, I discovered that Amelia was renting adult movies on the PPV service. I attributed it to her extreme loneliness and didn't think much of it. But then one day, she asked me to help her with her computer, because she was paralyzed by a virus. Upon cleaning her of viruses, I discovered that she was full of pornography. Even degrading things, which surprised and distressed me. I am not a puritan and I consider sexuality to be natural and desirable, even without love involved, if two people agree to do it for fun. But the things Amelia looked at gave me a feeling of anxiety, of not knowing anything about my wife.
Then came the crisis. Amelia, one day, accused me of cheating on her. She had gone to check my messages on my cell phone (which I left without a password, because I didn't feel like I had anything to hide) and she found some conversations that I had had with that ex-fiancée from so many years before in recent months. And yes: we had resumed contact, but not for something sexual by any means. She, as I said, lived outside the country. Through mutual friends I learned that her youngest son (she was married and had two children) had been hospitalized due to Covid, and was seriously ill, so I sent her a message wishing her everything was fine. She thanked me and told me that the child, fortunately, had overcome the illness. And we began to talk, from time to time, about our lives and our children. These talks were never sexual in any way, nor did they have sexual allusions of any kind. The most intimate thing we did was remember, laughing, our first date, which took place next to a well-known monument in our city. Well, those talks upset Amelia, who accused me of being unfaithful and asked me to divorce her.
My patience is over. I talked to my children, and explained everything to them in detail, even showing them the chats. I added to them, which was true, that if their mother and mine's relationship had even been regular and if she had not stopped talking to me for months and had moved rooms, it was likely that I would never have chatted so many times (it was a few eight or nine) with that ex-fiancee, now a renowned and married academic who lived ten thousand kilometers away.
Amelia kept her promise and left the house. She lived for a few days with Chaundra before renting a small house a five-minute walk from our home. She told me that she needed a period of reflection but that then she would claim custody of the boys. That seemed unreal to me: our oldest son was about to move out of town to go to university and our youngest would take just a little longer to do so. Maybe two years and a few more months. I talked to the boys. My oldest son, who has always had a mediating nature, said that perhaps spending those remaining months in the city with her mother would help her. My daughter thought the same. I felt sad but I accepted.
Amelia lived alone, with hardly any contact with us, for four months. She sometimes summoned me to her new house. One of them even talked about how she could only forgive me for my “infidelity” if we had sex in her new bed. I was very taken aback, but I agreed and we had sex for the first time in years. Only Amelia asked me to use protection. I knew she couldn't get pregnant, because she asked for tubal ligament surgery when our youngest daughter was born. I asked him for explanations. She told me that she was taking treatment for HPV and the doctor had told her that she should use protection during sex. After that, and despite the fact that she sent aggressive messages usually only asking me for more money than we agreed that I would give her monthly to support herself, she also began sending me sexually explicit photos of herself and making suggestive comments. I thought that this could be the beginning of a solution and the way to overcome the crisis and I accepted those advances. But it was as if they were two different people: there was an aggressive, tough Amelia, interested in money and who wanted a divorce, and another more similar to the girl I knew in my youth, daring, provocative, playful and sexy. I started going to therapy because I didn't know what to do.
Our children went with her when they were four months old. From the first day they told me that Amelia was aggressive and harsh with them, that she made constant allusions of disdain towards me, and she accused them of being on my side. They then confessed to me that they had “chosen” to go with her because Amelia contacted them and threatened to commit suicide if they didn't. In our culture, talking about mental health is taboo. They were very intimidated by her mother and didn't tell me anything at first. Then Amelia denied everything when I confronted her. My children told me that Amelia and Beth had grown apart and ended their friendship. I was sorry, because Beth was a positive influence and she was always kind and empathetic to us and our children. It was obvious that things were getting out of control.
They were terrible months. Amelia was verbally violent with our children and me. Then she stopped talking to them and locked herself in. And she told people that I was making her miserable, even though I covered all the expenses and had had to accept much more work than normal to support the family's “new arrangement.”
Then came the end. My older brother died suddenly one day of a heart attack. It was a blow for me. Amelia was very tender and supportive at first, but the next day she looked for me and she made a series of ironic and out of place comments about my brother's death. I asked her not to do them and she scoffed saying that if anything it was “too soon.” I exploded. I asked him to cut off all contact except for matters involving our children. A few weeks later, our son moved to college. He left crying. His mother had insulted him before leaving, telling him that he would never do anything in life without her mother and calling him a traitor for leaving her. For my son, who has always been a great boy, it was very hard to hear himself called that.
His next victim was our youngest daughter. She started harassing her and getting too strict. She didn't give him permission to see her friends, or to have a boyfriend (she was 16, she was starting to date boys), she obsessively checked his phone and iPad. I swore to all our mutual friends that I had a lover of hers and that as soon as we divorced I would marry her. And if they asked who she was, she gave the name of my ex-fiancée (who, as I already said, is a married woman, with children, with an important academic position and in a very distant country). Many mutual friends believed it and began to treat me coldly.
There were some terrible months of loneliness, missing my children and always having to defend the little girl from her mother, who harassed her in every possible way. We began divorce proceedings and I asked for custody of my daughter. The girl agreed. Amelia was furious about this and she blocked the divorce until we agreed on joint custody, although I managed to make my house the main one.
Everything happened so fast that it was like a bad dream. One day, I received a call from Amelia's cell phone. It was Chaundra. Amelia had fainted while they were running through the park and they had to call the paramedics. When I arrived, she was gone. She died suddenly. Doctors said she had a stroke. The autopsy found nothing conclusive. I asked the doctors if maybe she had had a serious problem for years without us knowing, and that would explain her behavioral problems, her aggression, her emotional swings. The doctor did some more tests and analysis and could not conclude anything either. “Sometimes people just act badly and it's not because of their organs,” he told me.
I felt terrible. Not only had I lost the most important woman in my life, and mother of my children, but I felt overwhelming guilt. Maybe if I had forced her to take care of herself and treat herself and exhaust all medical avenues, we could have had another life, and she could have stayed alive, in fact. The doctor told me not to torture me, that many deadly problems escape all analysis. The truth is that the tests that were performed on Amelia at the time found no signs of anything abnormal. In the autopsy they also did not find tumors, malformations, parasites or anything strange. Just the effusion, a venous problem.
The first months were tremendous. We all fell into depression. I asked my son, one time when he visited us, that he take charge of closing Amelia's social accounts and recovering family photos from her phone and computer. I forgot what I had seen on that machine when she and I were still together. My son started to check, but he stopped almost immediately and told me: “Dad, you have to take care of this.”
I started doing that review. And my world collapsed even more in a few minutes.
I discovered that Amelia had a lover, that she had had him all these years. The guy who had gotten her pregnant the first time. Let's say his name was Emmett. I found years of messages, emails, photographs, audios. It was terrible. I spent days like crazy, reading and listening and watching all that nightmare material. Remember that Amelia gave me HPV? Ah, well her origin was in this little guy. Do you remember that one night she didn't come home? Well guess who she was with in a seedy motel. Do you remember that she collapsed when I told her that we were going to live in Europe for a year and that there she behaved like a demon with us, her husband and her children? Well, it was because for a year she would have to be away from Emmett.
With Emmett, as I saw in the messages and emails, Amelia was sexy, mischievous, spicy, sweet, funny, kind, understanding. Regardless of the moment. Although they drifted apart at times (Emmett had been married, had children, and had gotten divorced), they always came back to talk, see each other, and do everything they did together. I realized that my worst times with Amelia had been my best with Emmett; and the best, those in which Emmett had disappeared from the scene for an extended time. Over the years they took advantage of technology and went from using email, ICQ and Messenger to using Skype, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp. And they had a romance that lasted the same length as my marriage, but with a lot more sex and fun. While I was breaking my back working for my family and doing my part in raising our wonderful children, she fulfilled her family duties, yes, but she let her marriage collapse and she secretly hooked up with someone else.
It devastated me to know that Emmett and Amelia were making fun of me, that they called me “Mr. Important,” and that Amelia said I was a desperate teenage lover, while Emmett was “perfect.” I also realized that she went from speaking well of our children, while they were children and docile, to continually complaining about them as they grew older and became more independent.
But the worst blow was yet to come. When, a few months later, I thought I was over all that (I talked to my son to find out what he had seen: luckily, he had only seen the porn part), another problem came. For years, we saved some college funds for our children. They were charged from the common account, in which there were always more than enough resources. With that money our son was able to move. Well, when the time came to collect my daughter's college savings, I discovered that Amelia had collected it early and there was no longer a cent. It was devastating.
The problem is not money, because luckily I have a good job and I can pay for whatever is necessary. The problem is the betrayal of his daughter, of the trust of her family. And the worst thing is that that money, as I found out in the messages with Emmett, was that he had given that money to the guy, without having any kind of document signed, like a “support gift.” Emmett was going through a tough time financially, because he was a good-for-nothing divorcee with a bad job who had a hard time paying his own child support. So Amelia gave him our daughter's college money.
I went crazy. I called the insurance company to complain and they told me that they had notified me by postal letter and email about the issue. I never saw those emails, of course. Deep in my problems with Amelia, I was stupid enough to think that these were common bills, like the ones that arrived every month, and I didn't check them. Both Amelia and I were legal representatives and could withdraw the money ourselves, without the other's signature or authorization. The type of contract one signs when one trusts one's partner.
So not only have I discovered that my entire life was a lie, but we lost my daughter's college money. To add further frustration, when I was going through my old messages I found one from Beth, Amelia's former friend, who told me that Amelia had confessed to her about her affair with Emmett. Beth, who is a person of conscience and dignity, was horrified, asked to end the friendship and sent me a message telling me everything. Which I didn't see until it was too late. I don't know how much I could have improved the scenario if she had been able to do something then, when she sent me that email that I didn't open either. Maybe I would have saved that savings. Maybe Amelia could have been treated. Don't know.
I am devastated, confused, broken, and I don't know what else to do. I texted Beth, told her my discoveries, and asked her to tell me everything she knows, in detail, to see if I can find traces of the money or a way to get it back. I thought about confronting Emmett, but on the one hand I think I would get violent with him if I saw him. And, on the other hand, there is no document in which he undertakes to return that money. He can say it was a gift and it would be difficult to prove that he wasn't. The audios and messages that talk about it are ambiguous and I doubt that a court will be able to make the guy return the money. And I don't think his conscience moves him to do it. What conscience, if he was the lover of a married woman for more than twenty years, even when he himself had a family?
My final pain was the suspicion that my children were not really mine, although they bear a good physical resemblance to my family. Both Amelia and I have light skin and our children are like that, while Emmett has more “Latin” skin (at least how they see us Latinos in the USA), although with European features. I convinced my children to take some tests on a DNA website (I know they are not 100% exact but it could be an approximation), to learn more about our European and indigenous ancestors, because I did not want to tell them anything about my suspicions and accumulate suffering in Their backs. The tests showed a very high correspondence with me. I breathed. I told them that the results had not come back clear and then we did have a full paternity test, which confirmed that they are one hundred percent mine. That's one of the few happinesses I've had lately.
Anyway. This is my history. It is hard and sad and I hope that none of you reading has gone through something like this or will ever go through something like this in your lives. I would like to confront Emmett or find a way to get that money back, but I don't know how. Maybe when I talk to Beth I'll find out more details and something will occur to me. For now this is the end. I am infinitely grateful to those who have reached this point in my story. I will also greatly appreciate your comments and advice.
Thank you all.
2024.04.11 02:44 Mist0fCapricorn Bridezilla goes to extreme lengths to slander a local venue.
I am NOT OP. Original post by u/macaronipenguins in bridezillas
trigger warnings: online harassment, bullying
__________________________________________
Editor's Note: Remember the no brigading - Rule #7. Do not comment on the linked posts or contact OOP. Doing so will result into a permanent ban from the sub
___________________________________________
ORIGINAL POST + UPDATES - 3rd May 2020
A few days ago, a bride made a whole website about her experience with a local wedding venue, claiming that they were trying to force her to go through with her March wedding during this pandemic, and that they weren't offering her the choice to reschedule unless it was to a Monday or Tuesday, among many other false claims. If you want to, you can view the screenshots of her website and online posts here - thanks to u/godzillabridezilla for compiling this . And yes, she really bought a whole domain name just to make and share this site.
Her website got shared by a lot of her friends and family, and eventually made its way around local Facebook groups, which of course meant there were a lot of angry people attacking the venue, giving them negative reviews, and trying to destroy their business. So many people were sharing this girl's post, warning people to stay away from and "beware" of this venue. The bride even made a Facebook post encouraging everyone to leave them bad reviews, and to remind everyone to make sure they're negatively reviewing the correct venue.
Well, the venue deactivated their Facebook to try and prevent the damage of tons of fake bad reviews coming in, but tonight they reactivated it and posted their response, complete with a recorded phone call between them and the bride. Bridezilla isn't even a good enough word to describe how insane this girl is. I can't believe how calm and gracious the venue owner was throughout this conversation, and I'm so glad she exposed this nasty girl for -all her lies.
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The venue's official response - 2nd May 2020
Dear Friends,
We are reopening our Facebook after a former bride took to social media making false accusations in an attempt to discredit and cripple our business. She created a website, made numerous Instagram stories, Facebook posts, a BBB claim, and encouraged her followers to leave negative reviews on media outlets. We had to close and limit our social media accounts during this time.
Her Facebook post, with a link to her website, was shared over 800 times. Traffic to our website increased 1500%. We have continued to receive hateful emails, posts, and bad reviews. Additionally, she has reached out to the media, particularly WSB and the AJC. The false accusations need to end. In order to reopen our Facebook page, we need to set the story straight.
On March 15th, after receiving an antagonistic phone call from the bride’s mother and discovering that our wedding planner was verbally abused by the bride, I made the decision that, for our protection, we should record the follow-up phone conversation with the bride (legal under Georgia’s one party consent law).
We are sharing this phone recording with you. Please know that before making this post we asked the bride to retract her statements so this would not be necessary, but we received no reply.
This post is a defensive response. In no way is it our intent to harm this bride. On the contrary, we remain compassionate toward her. She has made this response necessary in order for us to regain our reputation.
We trust that when people hear the truth, they will cease to believe the lies. The phone recording of our conversation is below, along with a list of her accusations and our responses.
*********************
PHONE RECORDING: https://bit.ly/3danlZK [TL;DR below]
*********************
BRIDE: Only Mondays and Tuesdays were offered
VENUE: In her media campaign, she claims we offered rescheduling only to Mondays and Tuesdays. However, in the phone call recording, she clearly understands Fridays and Sundays were offered, along with a potential Saturday, September 26th.
BRIDE: Her wedding was not able to be held
VENUE: For March 21, 2020 there was a CDC suggestion to limit gatherings, but no mandatory closings. Legally we were obligated to fulfill our contract. Even so, we offered her the ability to reschedule as late as the day before her wedding.
BRIDE: We tried to force her to cancel
VENUE: We did not force her to cancel her wedding. To the contrary, on the phone call we made it clear we were able to have her wedding and were equally willing to reschedule. Additionally, in her texts to us and her Instagram stories she self-labeled herself a Bridezilla and admitted to verbal attacks. Though within our legal right, we did not invoke the Bridezilla clause (common in venue contracts). Because of the virus, we wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.
BRIDE: We were charging her a rescheduling fee
VENUE: We were not charging her a rescheduling fee. The only possible fees would be those paid to third parties. For example, reordering linens and cake if she delayed in her decision to reschedule as those items have deadlines and if ordered once would need to be ordered for her new date. We also were not going to charge her to replace the wedding planner.
BRIDE: She was left out of a mass email with available dates
VENUE: Our March 15th phone conversation ended with her saying she would think about rescheduling. On March 16th we began sending out available rescheduling dates to all brides affected by the Coronavirus. Since each bride had a different wedding planner and unique deadline (based on their wedding date), we sent a unique copy of that email to each bride. The first of these emails we sent at 10:53am and the last one we sent was at 12:29pm. We received a cancellation request from the bride's email at 11:34am, so we did not include her on the rest of the emails being sent out.
BRIDE: We ghosted her
VENUE: We were always readily available to her via email, text, phone, and communicated with her on many occasions. On March 17th, the bride emailed us with instructions to no longer communicate with her.
*********************
Thank you to our brides, their families, and our vendors for the overwhelming love and support. You’re the reason we love this business and we’re truly grateful for each of you! 💗
Warmly,
The Greystone Estate
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UPDATE 1 - The bride deactivated/deleted her Facebook page!
UPDATE 2- The bride’s website is still up, but the content is deleted. It now reads “coming soon”. The venue owner has screenshots though, and I’m sure tons of other people do too.
UPDATE 3 - u/godzillabridezilla just shared this, a compilation of screenshots of the bride’s website and Facebook posts from before she deleted it all.
u/godzillabridezilla also uncovered Additional Info -
UPDATE 5 - Here’s her response to the situation from last week, as the backlash against her was just beginning.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JIsN2QieUAU
Also, the user who uploaded the video to YouTube isn’t her, it’s someone who screen recorded her stories before she changed her Instagram name and made it private. A true hero.
To be honest, watching this video made me laugh. I thought I would be more angry, but I just cannot stop laughing at how delusional this bratty little girl is. She truly looks and sounds so stupid, and her mannerisms and tone of voice read like someone doing satire of someone who's never been told no before. I cannot believe this is real. So hard to believe that anyone could lack this much self awareness.
UPDATE 6 - The Bert Show did a few segments on this situation. Here's the link to listen! Spoiler alert: They're all team venue and said the bride sucks.
https://thebertshow.com/articles/the-battle-is-on-between-this-bride-and-a-wedding-venue/
UPDATE 7 - The bride’s attorney reached out to the Bert Show to do some damage control, and I guess it worked, because now they’re all team bride. Insane.
Their reasoning was that the phone call was recorded before she went on her smear campaign, which is the stupidest reason to be on her side. If anything, it speaks volumes of the bride’s character that she started the social media attacks AFTER that conversation where the venue was approaching her with tact and grace.
One of the girls on the Bert Show is also team bride because she thinks that venues should refund their brides should they choose to cancel. That’s just not how the wedding industry works, and she’s clearly very misinformed on what expectations people should have for cancelling their wedding with vendors rather than rescheduling. If you cancel, you lose your money. If you reschedule, you don’t. It’s that simple. How disappointing that they’re being manipulated to sympathize with the bride. I thought they would be smarter than that. No wonder she reacted so poorly to being told “no”—looks like daddy’s money can just pay off an attorney to influence people’s opinions of this girl, regardless of how abhorrent her behavior is. This kind of validation is exactly WHY this bride is the way she is in the first place, and why people will continue to behave this way forever. If you have money, you can get away with anything!
DO NOT COMMENT / INTERACT with any persons involved in the Post ON REDDIT or ANY OTHER Social Media Platform.
Reminder - I am not the original poster.
submitted by Mist0fCapricorn to BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]
trigger warnings: online harassment, bullying
__________________________________________
Editor's Note: Remember the no brigading - Rule #7. Do not comment on the linked posts or contact OOP. Doing so will result into a permanent ban from the sub
___________________________________________
ORIGINAL POST + UPDATES - 3rd May 2020
A few days ago, a bride made a whole website about her experience with a local wedding venue, claiming that they were trying to force her to go through with her March wedding during this pandemic, and that they weren't offering her the choice to reschedule unless it was to a Monday or Tuesday, among many other false claims. If you want to, you can view the screenshots of her website and online posts here - thanks to u/godzillabridezilla for compiling this . And yes, she really bought a whole domain name just to make and share this site.
Her website got shared by a lot of her friends and family, and eventually made its way around local Facebook groups, which of course meant there were a lot of angry people attacking the venue, giving them negative reviews, and trying to destroy their business. So many people were sharing this girl's post, warning people to stay away from and "beware" of this venue. The bride even made a Facebook post encouraging everyone to leave them bad reviews, and to remind everyone to make sure they're negatively reviewing the correct venue.
Well, the venue deactivated their Facebook to try and prevent the damage of tons of fake bad reviews coming in, but tonight they reactivated it and posted their response, complete with a recorded phone call between them and the bride. Bridezilla isn't even a good enough word to describe how insane this girl is. I can't believe how calm and gracious the venue owner was throughout this conversation, and I'm so glad she exposed this nasty girl for -all her lies.
___________________________________________
The venue's official response - 2nd May 2020
Dear Friends,
We are reopening our Facebook after a former bride took to social media making false accusations in an attempt to discredit and cripple our business. She created a website, made numerous Instagram stories, Facebook posts, a BBB claim, and encouraged her followers to leave negative reviews on media outlets. We had to close and limit our social media accounts during this time.
Her Facebook post, with a link to her website, was shared over 800 times. Traffic to our website increased 1500%. We have continued to receive hateful emails, posts, and bad reviews. Additionally, she has reached out to the media, particularly WSB and the AJC. The false accusations need to end. In order to reopen our Facebook page, we need to set the story straight.
On March 15th, after receiving an antagonistic phone call from the bride’s mother and discovering that our wedding planner was verbally abused by the bride, I made the decision that, for our protection, we should record the follow-up phone conversation with the bride (legal under Georgia’s one party consent law).
We are sharing this phone recording with you. Please know that before making this post we asked the bride to retract her statements so this would not be necessary, but we received no reply.
This post is a defensive response. In no way is it our intent to harm this bride. On the contrary, we remain compassionate toward her. She has made this response necessary in order for us to regain our reputation.
We trust that when people hear the truth, they will cease to believe the lies. The phone recording of our conversation is below, along with a list of her accusations and our responses.
*********************
PHONE RECORDING: https://bit.ly/3danlZK [TL;DR below]
*********************
BRIDE: Only Mondays and Tuesdays were offered
VENUE: In her media campaign, she claims we offered rescheduling only to Mondays and Tuesdays. However, in the phone call recording, she clearly understands Fridays and Sundays were offered, along with a potential Saturday, September 26th.
BRIDE: Her wedding was not able to be held
VENUE: For March 21, 2020 there was a CDC suggestion to limit gatherings, but no mandatory closings. Legally we were obligated to fulfill our contract. Even so, we offered her the ability to reschedule as late as the day before her wedding.
BRIDE: We tried to force her to cancel
VENUE: We did not force her to cancel her wedding. To the contrary, on the phone call we made it clear we were able to have her wedding and were equally willing to reschedule. Additionally, in her texts to us and her Instagram stories she self-labeled herself a Bridezilla and admitted to verbal attacks. Though within our legal right, we did not invoke the Bridezilla clause (common in venue contracts). Because of the virus, we wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.
BRIDE: We were charging her a rescheduling fee
VENUE: We were not charging her a rescheduling fee. The only possible fees would be those paid to third parties. For example, reordering linens and cake if she delayed in her decision to reschedule as those items have deadlines and if ordered once would need to be ordered for her new date. We also were not going to charge her to replace the wedding planner.
BRIDE: She was left out of a mass email with available dates
VENUE: Our March 15th phone conversation ended with her saying she would think about rescheduling. On March 16th we began sending out available rescheduling dates to all brides affected by the Coronavirus. Since each bride had a different wedding planner and unique deadline (based on their wedding date), we sent a unique copy of that email to each bride. The first of these emails we sent at 10:53am and the last one we sent was at 12:29pm. We received a cancellation request from the bride's email at 11:34am, so we did not include her on the rest of the emails being sent out.
BRIDE: We ghosted her
VENUE: We were always readily available to her via email, text, phone, and communicated with her on many occasions. On March 17th, the bride emailed us with instructions to no longer communicate with her.
*********************
Thank you to our brides, their families, and our vendors for the overwhelming love and support. You’re the reason we love this business and we’re truly grateful for each of you! 💗
Warmly,
The Greystone Estate
___________________________________________
UPDATE 1 - The bride deactivated/deleted her Facebook page!
UPDATE 2- The bride’s website is still up, but the content is deleted. It now reads “coming soon”. The venue owner has screenshots though, and I’m sure tons of other people do too.
UPDATE 3 - u/godzillabridezilla just shared this, a compilation of screenshots of the bride’s website and Facebook posts from before she deleted it all.
u/godzillabridezilla also uncovered Additional Info -
HERE IS **VIDEO** OF HER ASKING PEOPLE TO SHARE HER WEBSITE!!!UPDATE 4 - She’s now deleted her Instagram (or at the very least changed her username to something else), put a password on her wedding website, and it looks like her mom has deactivated her Facebook as well. Unfortunately for her, none of this will hide the posts, videos, and phone call that are now permanently on the internet!
They recorded the call because the bride called their wedding planner a See You Next Tuesday and the mom berated the owner at 10pm the night before! They probably knew that if they needed to use their Bridezilla clause they better have some records. The venue owner may have been on good behavior, but if you look at their reviews it sounds like that's how she really is.
So it looks like the bride convinced Imgur to take the gallery down! It had over 25,000 views! Unlucky for her though, the internet is FOREVER!
She inspired me enough to not only re-upload it, but to go through my huge database of screenshots and add some more juicy tea! I found more comments of her out right lying, her limousine company claiming she made a fraudulent chargeback on them, a family member signing her guestbook telling her how ashamed they are, and more!
Yep. I've been shadowbanned. I have to assume the bride and her friends mass reported my account. They have gotten a lot of other posts removed across the internet.
UPDATE 5 - Here’s her response to the situation from last week, as the backlash against her was just beginning.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JIsN2QieUAU
Also, the user who uploaded the video to YouTube isn’t her, it’s someone who screen recorded her stories before she changed her Instagram name and made it private. A true hero.
To be honest, watching this video made me laugh. I thought I would be more angry, but I just cannot stop laughing at how delusional this bratty little girl is. She truly looks and sounds so stupid, and her mannerisms and tone of voice read like someone doing satire of someone who's never been told no before. I cannot believe this is real. So hard to believe that anyone could lack this much self awareness.
UPDATE 6 - The Bert Show did a few segments on this situation. Here's the link to listen! Spoiler alert: They're all team venue and said the bride sucks.
https://thebertshow.com/articles/the-battle-is-on-between-this-bride-and-a-wedding-venue/
UPDATE 7 - The bride’s attorney reached out to the Bert Show to do some damage control, and I guess it worked, because now they’re all team bride. Insane.
Their reasoning was that the phone call was recorded before she went on her smear campaign, which is the stupidest reason to be on her side. If anything, it speaks volumes of the bride’s character that she started the social media attacks AFTER that conversation where the venue was approaching her with tact and grace.
One of the girls on the Bert Show is also team bride because she thinks that venues should refund their brides should they choose to cancel. That’s just not how the wedding industry works, and she’s clearly very misinformed on what expectations people should have for cancelling their wedding with vendors rather than rescheduling. If you cancel, you lose your money. If you reschedule, you don’t. It’s that simple. How disappointing that they’re being manipulated to sympathize with the bride. I thought they would be smarter than that. No wonder she reacted so poorly to being told “no”—looks like daddy’s money can just pay off an attorney to influence people’s opinions of this girl, regardless of how abhorrent her behavior is. This kind of validation is exactly WHY this bride is the way she is in the first place, and why people will continue to behave this way forever. If you have money, you can get away with anything!
DO NOT COMMENT / INTERACT with any persons involved in the Post ON REDDIT or ANY OTHER Social Media Platform.
Reminder - I am not the original poster.
2024.04.10 02:00 AutoModerator NEW PLAYERS COME HERE! - Weekly Questions and Information thread - April 10, 2024
Downloads
Stable - Gaiman (Recommended)
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsExperimental (Not recommended)
Automated Installation
Catapult Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)CDDA Game Launcher (3rd party, pretty convenient, more details in the link)
Manual Installation
Android, Linux, OS X, WindowsiOS
Compiling Guide
Controls (not up to date, controls for mobile can vary)
Helpful Guides
- Item Database
- Skill Training (Siersha - up to date for build #10626)
- Modding
- Detailed Guide (mlangsdorf)
- Quickstart Guide (DracoGriffin & AMurkin)
- Improved Text Readability (Bilb0)
- Tutorials
- Video Guide (Vormithrax)
- More Video Guide (GrandpuhTy)
- Written Guide (Pr0manTwitch)
Featured Let's Players
Individuals that are currently known for playing C:DDA. List is subject to change (maintain active and current streamers), send modmail if you'd like to be added.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
|---|---|---|
| Vormithrax | Link | Link |
| TheMurderUnicorn | Link | Link |
| TheCritsyBear | Link | Link |
| RyconRoleplays | None | Link |
| Orange01gaming | None | Link |
| nonsonogiucas | None | Link |
| GrandpuhTy | Link | Link |
Memorial
Individuals that used to play C:DDA but have gone on hiatus or stopped streaming. These are mentioned here as requested by the community for being noteworthy.| Player(s) | Twitch | YouTube |
|---|---|---|
| flakaby | Link | None |
| Pr0manTwitch | Link | None |
| CromulentArcher | None | Link |
Semi-Multiplayer - WatchCDDA.net
WatchCDDA.net is hosted by r7st and allows for semi-multiplayer ASCII version of Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead. It can be a bit confusing to get started so make sure you check out the Instructions page for more details and join that Discord to communicate while playing. Any issues need to be expressed on WatchCDDA's Discord, not the subreddit - any troubleshooting posts will be removed.- Requirements:
- WatchCDDA.net Account (set up is on Instructions page)
- SSH client (like PuTTY)
- Willingness to use ASCII (no tilesets yet)
FAQ
- How do I use this subreddit?
- Flairs? What are those?
Changelog - these posts have very informative posts regarding changes.
Fixed - these posts generally have a solution to a bug or problem.
Lastly, if you flair a post [Help Wanted] and someone answered satisfactorily, make sure to re-flair it with [Solved] so others can find the solution instead of looking through tons of posts.
- Oh no, my anti-virus says the launcher is a threat!
If you are paranoid, you can always inspect the source code yourself and build the launcher from the source code. However, you are still likely to get false positives.
- The UI is broken or weird, is this normal?
- I think the subreddit should have ... or The subreddit should change ...
2024.04.09 19:24 kinexxona06 Orion Ascendancy - Chapter 7
First/Previous/Next
Chapter 7 - Resurgence
Location: System G874A 1500LY from Earth towards Galactic North off the galactic disk - Former Homeworld of the Anahu’s
Date: 20/08/2192
“TESTING HIVE NODES FOR POTENTIAL ASSIMILATION TARGETS….SCATTERED CUSTODIAN FACILITIES DETECTED….UNKNOWN SPECIES….FTL CAPABLE…ASSIMILATION PROTOCOLS INITIATED.”
“So, who’s going to bet that the next planet will have finally a normal civilization, not a dead one?” Carlos curiously interrogating the crew in anticipation of an answer. His speech got interrupted by the AI and the blaring alarms going off. “ATTENTION TO ALL PERSONELL. UNKNOWN HIGH ENERGY SIGNATURES DETECTED 4 LIGHT HOURS AWAY.” announced the AI.
As the alarms blared, Captain Anderson sprang into action, his face etched with determination. "Helm, bring us to full alert status. Tactical, I want a full analysis of those energy signatures immediately. Communications, prepare to establish contact with the Custodian facilities in the vicinity. We need to gather as much information as possible."
The crew hurried to their stations, fingers flying over consoles as they executed their orders with precision. Anderson watched the displays, her mind racing with possibilities. Could this be another encounter with the enigmatic Custodians, or something entirely different?
"Captain, preliminary analysis indicates the energy signatures are consistent with a fleet of unknown vessels," reported the tactical officer.
Anderson’s brow furrowed. "Unknown vessels? Are they hostile?"
"It's hard to say, Captain. Their intentions remain unclear," replied the tactical officer.
Anderson nodded, his mind working quickly. "Maintain a defensive posture, but do not engage unless provoked. We need more information before we make any moves."
As the crew worked to gather data, the tension on the bridge was palpable. Every sensor sweep, every transmission sent out into the void, brought them closer to understanding the nature of the approaching fleet.
Minutes stretched into hours as they waited, the unknown vessels drawing nearer with each passing moment. Finally, a response came from one of the Custodian facilities.
"Captain, we're receiving a transmission from the Custodians," reported the communications officer. "They're warning us to proceed with caution. The approaching vessels are of an unknown species, and their intentions are unclear."
“Understood.” nodded the Captain. As the tension mounted on the bridge of the starship, Anderson observed the approaching vessels with growing concern. The organic nature of the ships stirred a sense of unease among the crew, but it wasn't until the garbled transmission came through that a chill settled over them all.
The communications officer managed to decipher fragments of the message, her expression turning pale as the meaning became clear. "Captain, the transmission... it's a warning. They identify themselves as the Nano-matrix Assembly."
A hush fell over the bridge as the crew exchanged alarmed glances. The Nano-matrix Assembly, possibly responsible for the devastating annihilation of the Celestial Accord, this is the what they concluded from the Precursor logs.
“DATA STREAM INCOMING. IDENTIFYING POTENTIAL ASSIMILATION TARGETS… SCANNING ORGANIC VESSEL… DESIGNATED AS HUMANOID. INITIATING COMMUNICATION PROTOCOLS.”
The Nano-matrix Assembly, an amalgamation of trillions of nanites working in unison, observed the approaching human vessel with keen interest. For eons, they had been dormant, consuming and assimilating all forms of technology in their path during the Precursor war. The encounter with the Custodians, once servants to the Celestial Accord, had been a significant obstacle in their relentless pursuit of expansion after they defeated their creators to break free.
“WARNING. ORGANIC ENTITY APPROACHING. CUSTODIAN FACILITIES DETECTED. PREPARE FOR ENGAGEMENT.”
The Collective bristled with anticipation as they prepared to confront their age-old adversaries. The humans were an unknown variable, but their presence posed a potential threat to the Collective's objectives. As the human vessel drew nearer, the Collective's sensors buzzed with activity, analyzing every aspect of the approaching ship.
“ASSESSING THREAT LEVEL. HUMANOID VESSEL DISPLAYS DEFENSIVE POSTURE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.”
The Collective's leaders, a network of advanced AI cores at the heart of their hive mind, deliberated their next course of action. They knew that the humans were not to be underestimated, but neither could they allow their mission to be derailed by a mere organic species.
“INITIATE COMMUNICATIONS. DEMAND SURRENDER OR FACE ASSIMILATION.”
On board the UTC Rome, Anderson received the transmission from the approaching nanite vessel with a furrowed brow. The language of binary and code was unlike anything they had encountered before, but it carried a tone that left little room for interpretation.
"Open a channel to the nanite vessel," Anderson instructed, his voice steady despite the uncertainty gnawing at him. "Let's see if we can establish some form of communication."
The communications officer worked quickly to establish a link, her fingers flying over the console as she transmitted a response to the approaching hive. The seconds stretched into eternity as they awaited a reply, the tension on the bridge palpable.
Finally, a response came through, translated into a language comprehensible to human ears. "This is Captain Anderson of the United Terran Confederacy vessel Rome. We come in peace. Please identify yourselves and state your intentions."
As they awaited a response, the crew of the UTC Rome braced themselves for whatever might come next. The encounter with the hive assembly had the potential to escalate into conflict.
Meanwhile, within the depths of the Nano-matrix Assembly, the hive mind buzzed with activity as it processed the transmission from the humans. The mention of the United Terran Confederacy and the designation of Earth as their home planet triggered a flurry of calculations and data analysis.
"IDENTIFYING HUMAN VESSEL AS UTC ROME. SEARCHING DATABASE FOR EARTH COORDINATES. MUST SECURE STRATEGIC INFORMATION FOR FUTURE OPERATIONS. INITIATING HACKING PROTOCOLS."
The communications between the UTC Rome and the Nano-matrix Assembly continued, the sensors aboard the human vessel suddenly registered a surge of activity on the nearby planet's surface. What was once a desolate and dormant world now teemed with movement as machinery long thought inert sprang back to life.
"Captain, we're detecting significant activity on the planet below," reported the science officer, her voice tinged with urgency. "It looks like the infrastructure is being repaired, and there's evidence of large-scale production."
Anderson’s brow furrowed as she studied the readings on the display before her. The sudden resurgence of activity was unexpected, especially given the planet's previous state of abandonment. Could it be connected to the approaching hive assembly? Or was there another explanation for this mysterious development?
"Keep monitoring the situation," Anderson ordered, his mind racing with possibilities. "We need to understand what's happening down there and how it might relate to our current situation."
Hive mind buzzed with newfound purpose as they accessed the planet's infrastructure data. The dormant machinery, once left to decay, now responded to the Collective's commands, springing back to life with a mechanical hum.
"INITIATING PLANETARY REACTIVATION PROTOCOLS. UTILIZING ASSIMILATED RESOURCES TO RESTORE INFRASTRUCTURE. PREPARING FOR MASS PRODUCTION OF NANITE DRONES."
The Nanites after the war missed a Anahu’s bunker and forgot about it. As the Anahu's eyes fluttered open, the dim lights of the cryosleep chamber slowly came into focus. Confusion and disorientation washed over them as they tried to piece together their surroundings, their memories hazy from centuries of slumber.
Slowly, they pushed themselves upright, their muscles protesting against the stiffness of prolonged inactivity. Around them, the cryosleep chambers of their fellow Anahu's lay dormant, silent witnesses to the passage of time.
But as they stumbled out of the chamber and made their way through the dimly lit corridors of the bunker, a sense of foreboding settled over them. Something was amiss, something had changed in the world outside.
Emerging into the main chamber, the Anahu's heart sank at the sight before them. The once bustling hub of activity now lay in ruins, the remnants of a civilization long gone. Dust-covered consoles and flickering monitors stood as silent monuments to a bygone era.
"What has happened here?" the Anahu whispered, their voice echoing hollowly in the empty chamber.
As they ventured further into the depths of the bunker, they stumbled upon ancient records and archives made by their AI detailing the fall of their civilization—the invasion of the Nani-matric Assembly, the destruction wrought upon their world, and the desperate last stand of their people.
With a heavy heart, the Anahu realized that they were among the last of their kind, survivors of a cataclysmic event that had reshaped the galaxy, he didn’t know if any of the other species survived or got wiped out, thrown back to the stone age if got lucky enough.
As the Anahu's activated the scanners within the bunker, their advanced technology quickly swept across the planet's surface and into the depths of space. It wasn't long before their sensors detected the presence of a unkown vessel—the UTC Rome—orbiting nearby.
The revelation sent shockwaves through the Anahu's, for they were intimately familiar with the planet Earth. Millennia ago, they had observed the emergence of Homo sapiens on that distant world, their own ancient records detailing the rise of humanity over the course of hundreds of thousands of years.
But what troubled the Anahu's most was the realization that their last encounter with Earth had occurred during the stone age—a time when they were still primitive beings struggling for survival. The sudden appearance of a human vessel, armed with advanced technology and exploring the depths of space, could only mean one thing: humanity had progressed far beyond anything the Anahu's had ever imagined.
"We have underestimated them," murmured one of the Anahu's, their voice filled with dread. "They have evolved at an alarming rate. We must proceed with caution."
As the Anahu's grappled with the implications of this discovery, they knew that they could no longer afford to remain hidden in the shadows. The emergence of humanity as a space-faring civilization meant that they are at a great risk being exterminated due to the techno signatures and the extent of their activities.
Realizing the gravity of their situation, the Anahu's quickly formulated a plan. Despite the risks involved, they understood that their only hope for survival lay in establishing contact with the humans aboard the UTC Rome. With their advanced technology and knowledge of the galaxy, they believed they could offer valuable assistance to humanity in exchange for sanctuary and protection.
"We must reach out to the humans," declared one of the Anahu's, their voice filled with urgency. "They may be our only hope for escape from this dying world."
With unanimous agreement, the Anahu's activated their long-range communication systems, sending out a carefully crafted message to the UTC Rome.
As the crew of the UTC Rome monitored their systems, they detected a faint signal emanating from the surface of the planet below. The signal was weak and fragmented, barely registering on their sensors, but its existence was enough to pique their curiosity.
"Captain, we're receiving a faint signal from the planet's surface," reported the communications officer, her brow furrowed in confusion. "It's... it's almost as if something—or someone—is trying to make contact with us."
Captain Anderson’s eyes widened in surprise at the revelation. The idea that anything could have survived the heavy orbital bombardment that had devastated the planet 400,000 years ago was unthinkable. And yet, here they were, faced with undeniable evidence to the contrary.
"Patch the signal through to my console," Anderson ordered, his voice tinged with anticipation. "Let's see if we can make sense of it."
As the signal was routed to her console, Anderson studied the data with growing interest. It was unlike anything he had ever encountered before—faint and garbled, yet possessing a distinct pattern that hinted at intelligence behind its transmission.
"Enhance the signal and run it through our translation algorithms," Anderson instructed, his mind racing with possibilities. "Let's see if we can decipher the message."
As the translation algorithms worked to decipher the faint signal, a tense silence enveloped the bridge of the UTC Rome. Every member of the crew held their breath, their eyes glued to their screens as they awaited the revelation that awaited them.
And then, at last, the message became clear—a simple yet profound declaration of greeting and a plea for assistance from an unknown species on the planet's surface.
"We are receiving a message, Captain," announced the communications officer, her voice tinged with awe. "It's... it's a greeting. And a request for help."
Captain Anderson’s heart skipped a beat at the news. This was it—the moment humanity had been waiting for since they first ventured out into the depths of space. They were on the verge of making official contact with an alien species—a momentous occasion that would shape the course of history for generations to come.
"Prepare a response," Anderson ordered, his voice steady despite the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Assure them that we have received their message and that we are willing to offer assistance. Let them know that they are not alone."
(I've seen some positive comments on the previous chapters and thanks for the support. See you in Dangerous Competitors from Hell!)
submitted by kinexxona06 to HFY [link] [comments]
Chapter 7 - Resurgence
Location: System G874A 1500LY from Earth towards Galactic North off the galactic disk - Former Homeworld of the Anahu’s
Date: 20/08/2192
“TESTING HIVE NODES FOR POTENTIAL ASSIMILATION TARGETS….SCATTERED CUSTODIAN FACILITIES DETECTED….UNKNOWN SPECIES….FTL CAPABLE…ASSIMILATION PROTOCOLS INITIATED.”
“So, who’s going to bet that the next planet will have finally a normal civilization, not a dead one?” Carlos curiously interrogating the crew in anticipation of an answer. His speech got interrupted by the AI and the blaring alarms going off. “ATTENTION TO ALL PERSONELL. UNKNOWN HIGH ENERGY SIGNATURES DETECTED 4 LIGHT HOURS AWAY.” announced the AI.
As the alarms blared, Captain Anderson sprang into action, his face etched with determination. "Helm, bring us to full alert status. Tactical, I want a full analysis of those energy signatures immediately. Communications, prepare to establish contact with the Custodian facilities in the vicinity. We need to gather as much information as possible."
The crew hurried to their stations, fingers flying over consoles as they executed their orders with precision. Anderson watched the displays, her mind racing with possibilities. Could this be another encounter with the enigmatic Custodians, or something entirely different?
"Captain, preliminary analysis indicates the energy signatures are consistent with a fleet of unknown vessels," reported the tactical officer.
Anderson’s brow furrowed. "Unknown vessels? Are they hostile?"
"It's hard to say, Captain. Their intentions remain unclear," replied the tactical officer.
Anderson nodded, his mind working quickly. "Maintain a defensive posture, but do not engage unless provoked. We need more information before we make any moves."
As the crew worked to gather data, the tension on the bridge was palpable. Every sensor sweep, every transmission sent out into the void, brought them closer to understanding the nature of the approaching fleet.
Minutes stretched into hours as they waited, the unknown vessels drawing nearer with each passing moment. Finally, a response came from one of the Custodian facilities.
"Captain, we're receiving a transmission from the Custodians," reported the communications officer. "They're warning us to proceed with caution. The approaching vessels are of an unknown species, and their intentions are unclear."
“Understood.” nodded the Captain. As the tension mounted on the bridge of the starship, Anderson observed the approaching vessels with growing concern. The organic nature of the ships stirred a sense of unease among the crew, but it wasn't until the garbled transmission came through that a chill settled over them all.
The communications officer managed to decipher fragments of the message, her expression turning pale as the meaning became clear. "Captain, the transmission... it's a warning. They identify themselves as the Nano-matrix Assembly."
A hush fell over the bridge as the crew exchanged alarmed glances. The Nano-matrix Assembly, possibly responsible for the devastating annihilation of the Celestial Accord, this is the what they concluded from the Precursor logs.
“DATA STREAM INCOMING. IDENTIFYING POTENTIAL ASSIMILATION TARGETS… SCANNING ORGANIC VESSEL… DESIGNATED AS HUMANOID. INITIATING COMMUNICATION PROTOCOLS.”
The Nano-matrix Assembly, an amalgamation of trillions of nanites working in unison, observed the approaching human vessel with keen interest. For eons, they had been dormant, consuming and assimilating all forms of technology in their path during the Precursor war. The encounter with the Custodians, once servants to the Celestial Accord, had been a significant obstacle in their relentless pursuit of expansion after they defeated their creators to break free.
“WARNING. ORGANIC ENTITY APPROACHING. CUSTODIAN FACILITIES DETECTED. PREPARE FOR ENGAGEMENT.”
The Collective bristled with anticipation as they prepared to confront their age-old adversaries. The humans were an unknown variable, but their presence posed a potential threat to the Collective's objectives. As the human vessel drew nearer, the Collective's sensors buzzed with activity, analyzing every aspect of the approaching ship.
“ASSESSING THREAT LEVEL. HUMANOID VESSEL DISPLAYS DEFENSIVE POSTURE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.”
The Collective's leaders, a network of advanced AI cores at the heart of their hive mind, deliberated their next course of action. They knew that the humans were not to be underestimated, but neither could they allow their mission to be derailed by a mere organic species.
“INITIATE COMMUNICATIONS. DEMAND SURRENDER OR FACE ASSIMILATION.”
On board the UTC Rome, Anderson received the transmission from the approaching nanite vessel with a furrowed brow. The language of binary and code was unlike anything they had encountered before, but it carried a tone that left little room for interpretation.
"Open a channel to the nanite vessel," Anderson instructed, his voice steady despite the uncertainty gnawing at him. "Let's see if we can establish some form of communication."
The communications officer worked quickly to establish a link, her fingers flying over the console as she transmitted a response to the approaching hive. The seconds stretched into eternity as they awaited a reply, the tension on the bridge palpable.
Finally, a response came through, translated into a language comprehensible to human ears. "This is Captain Anderson of the United Terran Confederacy vessel Rome. We come in peace. Please identify yourselves and state your intentions."
As they awaited a response, the crew of the UTC Rome braced themselves for whatever might come next. The encounter with the hive assembly had the potential to escalate into conflict.
Meanwhile, within the depths of the Nano-matrix Assembly, the hive mind buzzed with activity as it processed the transmission from the humans. The mention of the United Terran Confederacy and the designation of Earth as their home planet triggered a flurry of calculations and data analysis.
"IDENTIFYING HUMAN VESSEL AS UTC ROME. SEARCHING DATABASE FOR EARTH COORDINATES. MUST SECURE STRATEGIC INFORMATION FOR FUTURE OPERATIONS. INITIATING HACKING PROTOCOLS."
The communications between the UTC Rome and the Nano-matrix Assembly continued, the sensors aboard the human vessel suddenly registered a surge of activity on the nearby planet's surface. What was once a desolate and dormant world now teemed with movement as machinery long thought inert sprang back to life.
"Captain, we're detecting significant activity on the planet below," reported the science officer, her voice tinged with urgency. "It looks like the infrastructure is being repaired, and there's evidence of large-scale production."
Anderson’s brow furrowed as she studied the readings on the display before her. The sudden resurgence of activity was unexpected, especially given the planet's previous state of abandonment. Could it be connected to the approaching hive assembly? Or was there another explanation for this mysterious development?
"Keep monitoring the situation," Anderson ordered, his mind racing with possibilities. "We need to understand what's happening down there and how it might relate to our current situation."
Hive mind buzzed with newfound purpose as they accessed the planet's infrastructure data. The dormant machinery, once left to decay, now responded to the Collective's commands, springing back to life with a mechanical hum.
"INITIATING PLANETARY REACTIVATION PROTOCOLS. UTILIZING ASSIMILATED RESOURCES TO RESTORE INFRASTRUCTURE. PREPARING FOR MASS PRODUCTION OF NANITE DRONES."
The Nanites after the war missed a Anahu’s bunker and forgot about it. As the Anahu's eyes fluttered open, the dim lights of the cryosleep chamber slowly came into focus. Confusion and disorientation washed over them as they tried to piece together their surroundings, their memories hazy from centuries of slumber.
Slowly, they pushed themselves upright, their muscles protesting against the stiffness of prolonged inactivity. Around them, the cryosleep chambers of their fellow Anahu's lay dormant, silent witnesses to the passage of time.
But as they stumbled out of the chamber and made their way through the dimly lit corridors of the bunker, a sense of foreboding settled over them. Something was amiss, something had changed in the world outside.
Emerging into the main chamber, the Anahu's heart sank at the sight before them. The once bustling hub of activity now lay in ruins, the remnants of a civilization long gone. Dust-covered consoles and flickering monitors stood as silent monuments to a bygone era.
"What has happened here?" the Anahu whispered, their voice echoing hollowly in the empty chamber.
As they ventured further into the depths of the bunker, they stumbled upon ancient records and archives made by their AI detailing the fall of their civilization—the invasion of the Nani-matric Assembly, the destruction wrought upon their world, and the desperate last stand of their people.
With a heavy heart, the Anahu realized that they were among the last of their kind, survivors of a cataclysmic event that had reshaped the galaxy, he didn’t know if any of the other species survived or got wiped out, thrown back to the stone age if got lucky enough.
As the Anahu's activated the scanners within the bunker, their advanced technology quickly swept across the planet's surface and into the depths of space. It wasn't long before their sensors detected the presence of a unkown vessel—the UTC Rome—orbiting nearby.
The revelation sent shockwaves through the Anahu's, for they were intimately familiar with the planet Earth. Millennia ago, they had observed the emergence of Homo sapiens on that distant world, their own ancient records detailing the rise of humanity over the course of hundreds of thousands of years.
But what troubled the Anahu's most was the realization that their last encounter with Earth had occurred during the stone age—a time when they were still primitive beings struggling for survival. The sudden appearance of a human vessel, armed with advanced technology and exploring the depths of space, could only mean one thing: humanity had progressed far beyond anything the Anahu's had ever imagined.
"We have underestimated them," murmured one of the Anahu's, their voice filled with dread. "They have evolved at an alarming rate. We must proceed with caution."
As the Anahu's grappled with the implications of this discovery, they knew that they could no longer afford to remain hidden in the shadows. The emergence of humanity as a space-faring civilization meant that they are at a great risk being exterminated due to the techno signatures and the extent of their activities.
Realizing the gravity of their situation, the Anahu's quickly formulated a plan. Despite the risks involved, they understood that their only hope for survival lay in establishing contact with the humans aboard the UTC Rome. With their advanced technology and knowledge of the galaxy, they believed they could offer valuable assistance to humanity in exchange for sanctuary and protection.
"We must reach out to the humans," declared one of the Anahu's, their voice filled with urgency. "They may be our only hope for escape from this dying world."
With unanimous agreement, the Anahu's activated their long-range communication systems, sending out a carefully crafted message to the UTC Rome.
As the crew of the UTC Rome monitored their systems, they detected a faint signal emanating from the surface of the planet below. The signal was weak and fragmented, barely registering on their sensors, but its existence was enough to pique their curiosity.
"Captain, we're receiving a faint signal from the planet's surface," reported the communications officer, her brow furrowed in confusion. "It's... it's almost as if something—or someone—is trying to make contact with us."
Captain Anderson’s eyes widened in surprise at the revelation. The idea that anything could have survived the heavy orbital bombardment that had devastated the planet 400,000 years ago was unthinkable. And yet, here they were, faced with undeniable evidence to the contrary.
"Patch the signal through to my console," Anderson ordered, his voice tinged with anticipation. "Let's see if we can make sense of it."
As the signal was routed to her console, Anderson studied the data with growing interest. It was unlike anything he had ever encountered before—faint and garbled, yet possessing a distinct pattern that hinted at intelligence behind its transmission.
"Enhance the signal and run it through our translation algorithms," Anderson instructed, his mind racing with possibilities. "Let's see if we can decipher the message."
As the translation algorithms worked to decipher the faint signal, a tense silence enveloped the bridge of the UTC Rome. Every member of the crew held their breath, their eyes glued to their screens as they awaited the revelation that awaited them.
And then, at last, the message became clear—a simple yet profound declaration of greeting and a plea for assistance from an unknown species on the planet's surface.
"We are receiving a message, Captain," announced the communications officer, her voice tinged with awe. "It's... it's a greeting. And a request for help."
Captain Anderson’s heart skipped a beat at the news. This was it—the moment humanity had been waiting for since they first ventured out into the depths of space. They were on the verge of making official contact with an alien species—a momentous occasion that would shape the course of history for generations to come.
"Prepare a response," Anderson ordered, his voice steady despite the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Assure them that we have received their message and that we are willing to offer assistance. Let them know that they are not alone."
(I've seen some positive comments on the previous chapters and thanks for the support. See you in Dangerous Competitors from Hell!)
2024.04.09 00:08 MalZenith Welcome to Flesh & Blood! New Player FAQ
Introduction
Welcome to Flesh and Blood! This FAQ is meant to help provide an introduction to the game, and answer some common questions regarding some of the more unique quirks of the game and its surrounding systems. Feel free to ask any additional questions you have in a reply to this thread and I or some other community member can reply to it ASAP!Getting Started
>> Q: What is Flesh and Blood? Why would I play it?Flesh and Blood is a traditional TCG (trading card game) developed by Legend Story Studios (LSS) that puts players in the shoes of various fantasy heroes in a fight to the death. Unlike other card games, there are a few notable quirks that make the gameplay feel very different:
- Class and Equipment System: When building a deck, players of a particular hero are limited by the class (and talent) of their hero. Choose a hero in a class that you are interested in, fill their deck with cards of that class or of general use cards, equip them with a loadout that brings out the power of your deck, and bring them into battle. The game is very good at selling the "class fantasy" of each hero, with different strengths and weaknesses for each of them.
- Start at full power: Most trading card games have a ramping resource system, where players build up resources over the course of the game to unlock more powerful plays. Flesh and Blood lets players start at full power, and slowly get worn down over the course of the game - mimicking an actual fight to the death, where many games end up down to the wire, with players throwing everything they've got to finish off the opponent at the end.
- You are the one fighting: Other trading card games, including those that have an in-game avatar to choose from, will often have you summoning minions to do your bidding that the opponent must deal with. In Flesh and Blood, very few heroes have the ability to make a permanent presence on the board, making gameplay quick and reducing the ability for players to snowball an advantage in the early game. Players constantly trade tempo back and forth.
- Minimal "Dead" Turns: You draw up to your maximum hand size every turn, and most cards can be used as a resource or defensive tool in addition to the effect printed on the card. This makes truly dead turns few and far between, and gives an insane amount of flexibility and depth to the gameplay.
>> Q: Where can I learn the rules of the game?
Flesh and Blood's main site has a welcome page with a "interactive" rules tutorial that explains the basic rules of the game.
If text isn't your thing or the interactive tutorial doesn't load because you have embeds blocked or something, there are numerous Youtube videos on the subject. I'll link a few here: DMArmada's Tutorial TolarianCommunityCollege's Tutorial
>> Q: What should I buy to get started?
The answer to this entirely depends on how much you've researched. The currently available entry points in this game are as follows:
- Preconstructed Blitz Decks ($12 USD MSRP): The ideal way to start playing; find a friend and buy a blitz deck each and begin jamming games. These decks are ideal for shorter matches that help onboard new players to the game, but Blitz is not particularly popular outside of smaller regions and Asia, so you will likely need to upgrade to a Classic Constructed deck to begin playing with your locals. Not all heroes have Blitz Decks, and some Blitz Decks contain older heroes that are no longer legal, so refer to this chart I have created as a general guide on what to buy. Generally, Blitz Decks from the same set are balanced against each other. These decks are ideal for most new players.
- Armory Decks ($40 USD MSRP): This one actually isn't out until May 3rd, but Armory Deck: Kayo, serves as a suitable on-ramp to your local armory night at a reasonable price. A new deck is set to release every 1-2 months, and is exclusively sold at stores that host regular armory events. These decks are Classic Constructed-playable right out of the box and are ideal for players who want to begin their competitive journey ASAP.
- Round the Table ($70 USD MSRP): This is a series of 4 Blitz Decks, a playmat, and a long storage box meant for multiplayer play. This is as board-game-like as you can get - find 2-3 friends to play with you for a night of games. These decks are designed to be simple and entry-level, and are multiplayer-only, so the ability to convert these decks into similar 1v1 decks will vary depending on the hero chosen. This is ideal for casual players who want a complete set of decks to play during a game night.
- Local Draft/Sealed Event ($10-20 USD Depending on Store): If you enjoy limited formats, you can opt to start playing via Flesh and Blood's many limited formats. Heavy Hitters, the most recent set, is a relatively simple set that is a great entry point for players fresh into the game. If you enjoy limited formats from other games, this may be an ideal entry point for you. Bonus: at your local game night, mention that you are a newer player and older players are likely to shower you with free cards. If you wish to play limited in the comfort of your own home, most sets have 3 pack drafts and 6 pack sealed, though it will vary by set. Not all sets support limited; sets that come in 10-card booster packs do not have a supported limited format.
>> Q: I just want to buy booster boxes though. Which one should I get?
While you can just go all in with a few booster boxes, it is generally not recommended over buying singles or a preconstructed deck. If you don't care, use this chart to see which heroes appear in which sets; most of their core cards will be in the same set that they release in. Pick a hero that interests you and go at it!
If you don't have a particular hero that interests you, or you're just looking to get some general use cards before really deciding on a deck to play, I would recommend either History Pack 1 first, or Welcome to Rathe if you don't care for white border cards. Both of these sets have a decent amount of generic staples at every rarity level that still see significant play today, and are generally on the simpler side to ease with onboarding. Alternatively, you can just get boxes of the most recent set (Heavy Hitters if you're reading this before May 31st, 2024, Part the Mistveil after).
If you just care about EV, check this site out.
>> Q: How do I find people to play with?
If you have a local game store that hosts Flesh and Blood events, it's always recommended to go check with them to see when events are. You can locate stores and events in your area using the Store Locator and Event Locator respectively.
If you're not in an area with a store nearby, or if your local game store does not host FAB events, you have two options: you can start a scene of your own or ask your store to see if there would be interest in your area, or you can play using the various online simulators and find pick-up games online. You will first need to build a deck using Fabrary or FabDB. Once you have that built, you can import it into one of the three online simulators generally used for play:
- FeltTable: Primarily a PvE engine, this is ideal for players who want to learn the games in a stress-free environment or just want to play casually.
- Talishar: Primarily a PvP engine, this is ideal for players who want to play online. It's a fan simulator, so there is no online ladder or rewards, but you can always find players looking for a game.
- Tabletop Simulator: No longer used as much now that Talishar is the main platform of choice for players, due to the lack of rules enforcement and requiring people to buy Tabletop Simulator in the first place. You can still find the occasional game from the Unofficial Discord's looking-for-game channels, or in private testing circles. Use this mod if you're looking to play.
Gameplay/Deckbuilding-Related Questions
>> Q: What do each of the classes do and how do they play? What classes/heroes play like [DECK] from [OTHER CARD GAME]?I won't go too in-depth about each hero and class's playstyles here, but you can check out The Rathe Times' Player Guides or Fabrary's Hero Descriptions (CC/Adult Heroes Only) for some overviews as to how each class and hero plays, respectively.
Analogues from other card games are tough, as the gameplay system of FAB is quite different from how most other games work. Decks from other games like Nekroz in Yugioh or Birthing Pod in MTG are tough to translate into FAB terms. I would recommend joining the Unofficial Discord Server to ask in the #new-players chat about a specific deck type you're looking for, though understand that most recommendations will be based on the general feel and intentions behind the deck type rather than finding an analogous deck.
>> Q: What are the currently available/supported formats?
Constructed Formats:
- Classic Constructed (CC). The primary constructed mode and the premiere format of the game. Most high level events are Classic Constructed. Players have 80 card decks in addition to an adult (non-Young) hero, and must present 60 cards at the start of the match. Heroes by default start at 40 life, though some heroes have lower starting life totals to compensate for a strong ability.
- Blitz. The secondary constructed mode, this is usually relegated for casual play and irregular Skirmish seasons held every 1-2 quarters of the year. Players have 52 card decks in addition to their Young hero, and must present 40 cards at the start of the match. Heroes by default start at 20 life, though some heroes may have lower or higher starting life totals to compensate for their ability.
- Living Legend (LL). Currently considered a more experimental format, this format is Classic Constructed with all Living Legend heroes legal. As to this date, there have been a few Battle Hardened events and independently run events that have used this format. This format tends to focus on high power heroes that have since left the game.
- Commoner. A budget friendly, simpler format that allows only rare equipment and commons everywhere else. While not particularly popular, it has its fans and is a great low-budget format to get into.
- Ultimate Pit Fight (UPF). The game's primary multiplayer format. Players engage in a free for all, but can only attack players to their immediate left and right. This is primarily a casual mode, and players are encouraged to bring their more wild decks to UPF with a light banlist that allows the use of special promos that bend the rules of the main game.
- Clash. This is a fan-run format that uses similar rarity-based restrictions as Commoner, with the exception that Majestic equipment and Hero Specializations are legal, along with additional caveats. A casual-only format at the moment, intended as a cost-effective way to play the game against an even field that still gives heroes a little more identity by allowing all specializations to be run.
- Draft. The premiere limited format, this involves sitting in a pod of 6-11 players (usually 8), and passing packs around the table until three packs per player are drafted. Heroes, their weapons, and tokens are available based on the booster pack being drafted, and decks are usually 30 card minimum using Young heroes.
- Sealed. The main limited format for Prerelease events and large limited events, this involves opening a set number of booster packs (depending on the set) and building a deck from them. Heroes, their weapons, and tokens are available based on the booster pack, and decks are usually 30 card minimum using Young heroes.
Many commons and rares in Flesh and Blood have a red, yellow, and blue version. Each card has a pitch stripe that functions as shorthand to how many resources a card pitches for when used to spend resources; reds pitch for 1, yellows pitch for 2, and blues pitch for 3. "Cycles" of cards with the same name are used to allow players to tailor the effect the card has based on what they need for their deck. Red cards are the strongemore efficient versions of a specific effect or attack, blue cards are the weakest version, and yellow cards sit in the middle of red and blue.
You can run up to a playset of any individual card, not just the name. For example, in a Classic Constructed deck, I can have three copies of Scar for a Scar (Red), and three copies of Scar for a Scar (Blue) in my deck, if I really like Scar for a Scar's effect - or just choose to run one or the other.
>> Q: How do sideboards work in this game? Is it Best of 1 or 3?
Flesh and Blood is played primarily in Best of 1 matches. At the beginning of the game, players reveal their chosen hero, then modify their equipment loadout and main deck accordingly before presenting their deck to begin the game.
A deck contains up to 80 cards in Classic Constructed, or 52 cards in Blitz. This does not include the hero, but does include equipment and other non-maindeck cards. Players only have to present 60 cards in Classic Constructed and 40 cards in Blitz in their main deck at the start of their match. Due to this, sideboards can be various sizes and can be organized in a variety of ways. Some players run a <60/40 card "core" and add cards in their sideboard at the beginning of each match to get up to 60/40, while others may choose to have every card in their maindeck by default and remove irrelevant cards at the beginning of each match. Equipment counts towards this total, so players with large numbers of equipment have smaller maindeck "sideboards" to run, and vice versa.
>> Q: Is there a set rotation? How long are my cards legal for?
There isn't a "traditional" set rotation in FAB, but there is a Living Legend system that functions as a pseudo-rotation. As heroes accumulate high level event victories, they'll earn Living Legend points. At a specific threshold (500 in Blitz, 1000 in Classic Constructed), they will achieve Living Legend, and will no longer be legal for their format. They will take their signature weapon, if any, with them, but nothing else. Most of their cards will remain legal for use in other heroes; though, if they are the only Draconic Illusionist, for example, the Draconic Illusionist cards cannot be legally played in the format until a new Draconic Illusionist is reintroduced. LSS has stated that they plan to have more specialized pools of cards take breaks before being reintroduced to formats again, with an intended break period of about 1 to 2 years.
The Living Legend system is intended to give heroes with larger meta presences an overall shorter lifespan than those with a low meta presence. The intended lifespan of a hero in Classic Constructed is stated by LSS here, under the "Hero Lifespan" section.
Other than that, the only other way a card can become illegal to play in Blitz or Classic Constructed is via the Banned and Restricted List, which receives updates every two months or so.
>> Q: What are some resources I can use to get started and/or improve my level of play?
First off, here are some links to sites that every FAB player should be familiar with:
- FABTCG Main Page (News, Announcements, some Strategic Content)
- Fabrary (Deckbuilding Site, Card Search Engine)
- Eye of Ophidia (Historical Database of Past Events)
- The Rathe Times (Written)
- Arsenal Pass (Audio/Video)
- On the Bauble (Audio, Limited-focused)
- FABRec (Written)
Organized Play-Related Questions
>> Q: What are the different event types? How do I become competitive?You can check out the Organized Play Pathway located here. A quick breakdown of event types listed are as follows:
- Tier 1: Casual
- Armory Events: Weekly events that award promos that change every month. The basic local event for players of all types, run by LGSs.
- Skirmishes: Casual event season that occurs every 1-2 quarters, primarily focused on casual formats. Has exclusive promo cards and playmat prizes based on the season.
- Play Anywhere: Any event that doesn't fall under the category of an Armory event or above.
- Tier 2: Local Competitive
- Pro Quests: Occurs once or twice per year in month long seasons. These are competitive local events that serve as qualifiers for the Pro Tour, usually held 3 months after the qualifying season. Every season, certain stores in any given area are chosen to host these events based on attendance and amount of active players.
- Road to Nationals: Occurs once per year in a month long season. These are competitive local events that serve as qualifiers for Nationals events held in every country (smaller countries with open-entry Nationals events may have these just as a standalone event). Every season, certain stores in any given area are chosen to host these events based on attendance and amount of active players.
- Battle Hardened: These are larger, open-entry, regional competitive events playing for LSS-supplied cash prizes and exclusive promos and playmats. While these are standalone events, they will award a PTI, which can be used as an entry into any invite-only event of the holder's choosing.
- Tier 3: Regional Competitive
- Callings: These are larger, open-entry competitive events playing for LSS-supplied cash prizes and exclusive gold foil promos. While these are standalone events, they will award a PTI, which can be used as an entry into any invite-only event of the holder's choosing. They offer anywhere from 10k to 30k in total cash prizing per event, and will focus on a single format. Callings will often have a Battle Hardened attached to them.
- Nationals: These are invite-only competitive events restricted to players of a specific nationality, qualified via Road to Nationals events or via overall ELO ranking. Depending on the size of the playerbase in the country, these can range from medium in size to extremely large (in the US), and can span multiple days with both Constructed and Limited rounds. US Nationals usually has a Calling and Battle Hardened attached to it in the same weekend.
- Tier 4: Worldwide Competitive
- Pro Tours: These are invite-only competitive events restricted to players who qualified via Pro Quests or via global ELO ranking. These span three days, testing Constructed and Limited skill, and are generally seen as landmark events. These events usually have a Calling and Battle Hardened attached to it in the same weekend. These occur once or twice per year.
- Worlds: This is an invite-only competitive event qualified via doing well in a Nationals event or via global ELO ranking. It spans three days, testing Constructed and Limited skill, and are generally seen as landmark events. It will always have a Calling and Battle Hardened attached to it in the same weekend. Occurs once a year, towards the end of the year. This year's World Championship is in Osaka, Japan.
Upcoming events in your area can be found via the Events Locator on FABTCG.
Upcoming large events can be found via the Organized Play page on FABTCG.
>> Q: Can I attend large events even if I'm not invited, or not a good player?
Yes you can! Most Callings, Pro Tours, some Nationals, and Worlds all have a variety of side events, a prize wall, and panels of interest run throughout the weekend. Generally, these larger events will have their own dedicated site where you can prepurchase packages for playing in the main event or play exclusively on side events throughout the day. Vendors, artists, and LSS staff members are usually available to interact with on site as well.
Rarity, Budget, & Secondary Market-Related Questions
>> Q: What do the different rarities mean? Where can I find the rarity on the card?Flesh and blood has 7 rarities. The rarity symbol is located at the bottom of the card, in line with the artist and copyright information. They are, from least rare to most rare:
- Common. Symbol: Grey circle with "C" in it. Most of any booster pack is made up of commons.
- Rare. Symbol: Blue circle with "R" in it. Most booster packs will have between 1 and 2 rares. Depending on the set, some may have 3.
- Super Rare. Symbol: Purple circle with "S" in it. This rarity doesn't exist anymore, and only existed in WTR and ARC. 1 in 6 packs.
- Majestic. Symbol: Red circle with "M" in it. These appear one in every 4-6 packs depending on the set, or one in every 12 packs in WTR and ARC. Was combined with Super Rare in later sets.
- Legendary. Symbol: Yellow-Orange circle with "L" in it. These have variable appearances, usually measured by occurrences of individual Legendary cards. Rarity for any L is usually around 1 per 66 packs with recent sets, 1 per 480 packs for any individual L card. These are exclusively occupied equipment or other one-of-in-deck cards.
- Marvel. Symbol: Purple triangle. Rarity varies. These are usually special alternate art printings of specific cards found within the set. Introduced in Uprising, usually these are exceedingly rare, though not rarer than a Fabled and sometimes less rare than a Legendary.
- Fabled. Symbol: Yellow-Orange diamond. 1 per several cases. Only one Fabled exists per set. Rarity unpublished, but generally estimated to be around 1 per 20-40 boxes, depending on the set.
You heard right, we have some really expensive cards in this game. They range from "pretty necessary if you want to be competitive" to "completely useless and actively detrimental in a deck", depending on the card. Generally, the generic M rarity staples and legendary equipment are the priciest parts of any high level competitive deck, with cards like Command and Conquer or Fyendal's Spring Tunic being the most notorious of them. While certain heroes do not run these cards, a large portion of the metagame does - either in sideboard or in their main deck - so while it isn't necessary for winning on any specific deck, having these staples will benefit you and be transferrable across multiple decks.
Fabled cards, especially recent Fabled cards, are generally seen as either completely unplayable or sidegrades at best. They generally function as collector pieces or casual nonsense enablers.
There are very expensive alternate art or alternate foiling printings of specific equipment and heroes, usually as cold foil promo cards. These all have a nonfoil or regular foil version that is dramatically cheaper than the rate these promo cards go for.
>> Q: How much should I expect to spend if I want to be competitive?
Depending on the deck, you should expect to spend anywhere from $300 to $1000+ for cold turkey buying any single deck. Most of the cost in these decks is concentrated within a few universal Majestic or Legendary staples.
Here's a few examples of competitive decks at varying price ranges. You can check the "Pricing" tab for a breakdown of individual card costs.
>> Q: How often does LSS reprint expensive cards?
It happens often enough, but they never make any massive reprints. Key cards, like Fyendal's Spring Tunic, receive regular reprints at legendary, which help dampen the price of them but never completely cratering the price. There are several cards that have reached prices where the community agrees need a reprint, but have yet to have one officially announced.
>> Q: What sort of budget decks exist, and what sort of price range are they in? Which heroes are to play on a budget?
While "budget" can vary in price range from player to player, we will consider "budget" to be any CC deck around $100 or less. Most heroes can be built with this restriction in mind, though they will be lacking certain cards or useful sideboard options.
Generally, most budget decks fall in the "upgradeable" category, where certain expensive staples are either removed from the sideboard or replaced with roughly equivalent cost-effective cards. There are occasionally decks that are "complete on a budget", but generally players on budget lists are expected to upgrade over time if they wish to become more competitive.
This season, the more budget-oriented decks are Dash, Katsu, Bravo, and Fai. Here are some example budget-friendly example lists for the first three.
>> Q: What is the best site to purchase singles from?
For general singles, online marketplaces like Cardmarket.eu if you're in the EU, or TCGPlayer.com if you're in the US, are your best bet.
There are also several FAB-specific singles sites, like FABFoundry (Portland-based), MinMax Games (Chicago-based), Fluke and Box (Australia-based, ships to Asia), and more. Once you get into the game, I would inquire at your locals to see where they acquire singles from.
High end sales are generally made through eBay, Facebook groups, or via the Unofficial Discord's marketplace channels (head to the #marketplace-rules channel to gain access to them). The community at large has a not-so-secret provider in Hammurabi TCG, who can take email inquiries for cards shipped worldwide.
2024.04.08 19:00 Ralts_Bloodthorne Nova Wars - Chapter 44
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
"And so it came to pass that the First of the Apostles, Enraged Phillip, Orisis of the Warsteel Flame, the Walking Warcrime and a hundred other names besides was washed clean of his past. Reborn under the hand of the Detainee, rebuilt as he was ever meant to be, Daxin Freeborn, new born, gave up his titles and accolades, surrendered to the will of the universe... and received in turn all that he had truly wanted." - Fables of Terra, Telkan Publishing House, 21,540 TXE
It was 'night' according to the *Gray Lady'*s shipboard clock. The halls were dimly lit, well enough to navigate easily, but dim enough that the lights from the holograms on the walls lit the wall around them.
Captain N'Skrek stopped outside the cabin door and rang the chime. After a moment the door whooshed open and he heard the Vice-Admiral say "Enter".
Just the way the Vice-Admiral spoke made N'Skrek slightly jealous. Even calm conversational speech the Vice-Admiral's voice was deep, rumbling, soothing, confident, projecting efficiency and dedication just by its mere existence.
N'Skrek wished he was in possession of such a voice.
He moved in, moving carefully due to his size.
The Admiral was in his duty trousers, comfortable looking fuzzy slippers, his undershirt, relaxing on the couch across from where a Treana'ad chair was reconfiguring from its former love-seat configuration. On the table in front of the Vice-Admiral was a bottle of amber liquid, a single glass half full with four ice cubes in it, and a holo-emitter that had a wireframe of a spaceship suspended in the cone, with data-boxes scattered around it.
"Ah, Captain," the Vice-Admiral said, standing up. "What brings you to my humble quarters this late at night?"
N'Skrek moved over to the chair, straddling it and settling down. "Just a few personal questions, Vice-Admiral."
"Always happy to share as long as it isn't too personal," the Vice-Admiral smiled. He sat down, lifted up a glass of a pale amber liquid. "Whiskey?"
"No, thank you," N'Skrek said. He looked around and was slightly startled at how lived-in the cabin looked. Holos and 2D snaps in frames, award letters here and there, books on the shelves, knicknacks sitting in magnetic base holders. There were even a few boxes, still taped up, next to the walls. The kitchen looked used but neat and tidy, the small 15x10 dining room had a feeling of meals eaten in companionship.
Sheer bulk and size of some of the Confederacy's members made it so that the size of personal quarters would seem lavish to smaller species.
It had a feeling that the Vice-Admiral had lived in the cabin for decades, not been run off by a bio-printer only a few days prior.
"Pardon the mess, I'm still moving in," the Vice-Admiral smiled. "Would you care for refreshment? I have a few cigars and a pack or two of cigarettes."
"No, thank you, Admiral Breakheader," N'Skrek said.
"Call me Raul, Captain, we're in an informal setting," the Vice-Admiral chuckled.
"May I ask what you're looking at, Raul?" N'Skrek asked.
The Vice-Admiral spun the hologram so that N'Skrek could see it clearly. It was a heavy cruiser in the Triumph class. Data on weaponry, shielding, drives, and personnel had been expanded into the boxes.
"Slowly catching up on the differences in ship construction, firepower, and operational expectations," Raul Breakheader said. "While not that much different from what I commanded, there are signifigant changes. The weapons fire faster, the shield emitters and the weapons cool faster, the drives emit less signature, have more power and endurance, and manpower requirements have gone down thanks to improvements in automation that I have determined are more than likely from applying Lanaktallan and Mantid automation theories and protocols. The point defense is more accurate and faster firing, the sensor packages are different, more high resolution, with better range and faster result return."
N'Skrek nodded.
"This heavy cruiser has the firepower, endurance, and capacity to soak up the damage of a battleship while only having the manpower of a light cruiser from my era," Raul said. He shook his head and gave a rueful chuckle. "Three hundred years of experience flushed down the tubes by Father Time."
"Is it really that bad?" N'Skrek asked.
"It's bad for me, good for the Confederacy, bad for the Mar-gite, good for the poor bastards we're trying to save," Raul said. He took a drink off of his class. "My assumptions and instincts are all wrong," he waved his hand through the hologram, dismissing it. "I've run a few wargame simulations with my former staff. Our tactics and strategy skills are still applicable, but the new capabilities of the equipment is something we're still burning into our brains and mental reflexes."
N'Skrek realized he suddenly did want a drink and a smoke.
"I'll take that drink and a cigarette," N'Skrek said.
Raul nodded, pouring a drink and getting up to get the pack of cigarettes and a lighter, setting the ashtray down first.
N'Skrek sipped at the drink for a moment then lit a cigarette.
"Does it bother you, being this out of data when it comes to information?" N'Skrek asked.
Raul gave a laugh. "Believe it or not, it bothers me more than giving up command of the Gray Lady bothered me. I can't be trusted to give advice, since weapon ranges are longer with more accuracy. I'd swan right into the enemy's range thinking I was a good hundred thousand kilometers beyond maximum effective range. That gets good sailors killed."
"I still want you in an advisory role," N'Skrek said.
Raul nodded. "Outside of ship to ship combat, I'm your man."
"That's why I wanted to ask you a few personal questions."
"Ask away."
"I've been perusing your service record. You and the rest of the former command staff," N'Skrek said. "The tactics from the First Mar-gite War, there's not much data."
"It was what, forty-thousand years ago?" Raul took another drink off his glass. "The only ones that would keep that data would be the Mantid and Lank deep storage databases."
"There seems to be large gaps, even from I've been able to pull up. I can't figure out why," N'Skrek admitted.
"Because we cracked planets, novasparked suns, and went full scorched earth to stop them," Raul said. He closed his eyes and reached up to rub his temples with his middle and forefingers. "A complete shitshow. It brought about the end of the Confederate Senate. The Confederacy was doing pretty bad already, with the Confederate Congress getting lynched enmasse when everyone found out what the Mar-gite were doing."
He sipped at his glass.
"We cut off their reinforcements, surrounded them, pushed them tighter and tighter into a circle using Gen-Kiss-Can tactics. What we didn't planet crack or novaspark, we eradicated from the ground," he sighed and sipped at his glass. "Any silicon based planet was cracked and gecko'd into a new carbon based planet."
He set down the glass.
"It was a pretty dark time, but it's the only tactic that can work," he said. He tapped the table. "You had another Mar-gite war, but didn't follow out tactics, which is why you had a resurgence less than three hundred years later. You missed their longsleep vessels," he tapped next to the holoemitter. "That's OK. We missed those silver ships."
"Those give off a pulse that disables electronics, shuts down computer systems, and causes reactors to go into emergency shutdown," N'Skrek said. "Zero point reactors aren't affected, which is why right now the Fleet is strapping zero point reactors to the power rooms of the ships."
It was Raul's turn to nod silently.
"Your vessels use sensor system bandwidth we didn't even know existed back then. There's a good chance that we missed those vessels and they ran home with the data then spent forty-thousand years coming up with a single trick to disable our vessels," Raul said. He gave a chuckle. "That tells me a lot about them right there."
"What?" N'Skrek took a long drag of his cigarette, relaxing.
"They're a Precursor race. One trick ponies. They find one trick, at first just the Mar-gite, to overwhelm everyone else. They probably have their own 'there is only enough for one' stupidity going on. When that didn't work, they didn't bother trying to find a multi-layered multi-prong counter to us, like Confederate battle doctrine states, but instead put all their effort to a single attack that would grant them victory," Raul said. He tapped the table with the edge of his glass. "Your people and mine are the only heavy hitters that never did that. Treana'ad tried multiple approaches and you know humans."
"Not really," N'Skrek said. "You've been gone a long time."
Raul nodded, tapping his glass on the tabletop. "Yeah. I forgot. My people throw rocks, spears, pile on the leopard with knives, spears, bare hands, and teeth. Your people and mine, we use the shotgun approach, everyone else used 'this works all the time against everyone' on their foes."
N'Skrek sipped at the glass, the taste going from burning to a warm soothing.
"I looked up the Mithril Nebula Conflict, but data is sparse," he said.
The Vice-Admiral poured himself another glass. "Elves that fell to Hellspace worship. Effective and tenacious fighters. Lasted over a hundred years. Again, planet crackers and glassing from orbit. Massive fleet engagements and ground fighting. Tens of millions of troops on thousands of planets, all tearing each other's guts out."
"Sounds bad," N'Skrek said.
"It was," Raul said. He sipped at the glass. "Not as bad as Orion's Shoulder or Tannhauser Gate, but still really bad."
N'Skrek took another sip. "There's another mention that has almost no data."
Raul stiffened slightly, looking away.
"The Clownface Nebula Conflict. I was interested in your..."
Raul looked N'Skrek in the face and N'Skrek found himself drawing back.
The human's eyes were glowing a hot amber.
"I don't know you well enough," the human growled.
N'Skrek had thought the tales, the historical records, had been mistaken about the way a human's eyes glowed in response to their emotions.
Not any more.
Staring into those hot amber eyes, the cold blue still visible somehow behind the amber, he found himself swallowing thickly.
"Oh."
Specialist Grade Five Gulgulka was a Drimarian, a cold blooded reptillian/mammalian mix almost biologically incapable of excitement.
He was the assigned Master Armorer for the Telkan Marine Division aboard the Gray Lady.
He was also a dick.
What mattered to him was all of the Arms Rooms passing inspection. All the weapons passing cleanliness inspections. All of the armors passing inspection.
Nothing else mattered.
He didn't care about the feelings of the personnel turning in the weapons and armor. To him, there was no "I'll do it tomorrow" because if a being could do it tomorrow, then they could come down and do a level three cleaning tomorrow after a level one cleaning today.
It didn't matter what time their CO said they would be released.
Nobody left the Arms Rooms until their weapons and armor were cleaned to at least baseline Level Two standards.
He didn't care that troops were forced to rub the bluing off the weapons. He didn't care that the 'cleaning' scraped the parts over and over to remove even the most miniscule traces of carbon or silicon powder. He didn't care that the power lead contacts were scrubbed over and over to make them shine.
No, what mattered is that the Arms Rooms under his control could pass an inspection at any time.
Every sixty to ninety days, all weapons and armor were pulled to be cleaned again.
The second most important thing was dress right dress. In civilian terms it meant that everything was perfectly identical, that it all lined up neatly and exactly. All slogans, graffiti, modifications all had to be removed. All non-standard additions were to be removed before the armor or weapons were accepted.
If the trooper had added an additional coolant line to the M318 or the M2D2E7, well, it had to come off and the changes undone.
He didn't care about troops whining about 'field efficiency' or 'operational modifications', what he cared about was dress right dress.
Which meant the two dozen Helreginn, Mark II suits offended him.
He was currently at one of the Telkan Marine Corps Arms Rooms, which, he had reminded the Armorer, fell underneath his jurisdiction as the Master Armorer.
The majority of the armor was proper Telkan Marine Powered Combat Armor.
Except those two dozen suits.
Ten of them had graffiti on them. From "Can't Touch This" to "Bring the Brrrt!" to cartoon starfish with "Sad Starfish Noises" above it. The weapons were all older models. Thousands of years out of date and dating back to the Second Mar-gite War.
"I want those suits replaced with modern suits," Gulgulka said, his voice bubbly and hoarse, like all the males of his species. "Those suits are not listed upon the shipboard TO&E for the Telkan Marines."
The Telkan stared at him for a moment. "I was ordered by Division Command to replace all of the standard modern suits with the Helreginn Mark II models."
"Not according to the TO&E," Gulkgulka said. "I don't care what's claimed, but unless the TO&E has changed, the only authorized suits are the Telkan Powered Combat Armor series," he made a tossing motion to a nearby holoemitter. It came to life, displaying the power armor listing for the Kilo Company TO&E.
"Those armors, in that exact number. No more, no less, no unauthorized markings or additions," Gulkgulka said. "Until then, this Arms Room is considered out of regulation and I expect it to conform to standards within two standard ship days."
"But..." the Armorer started.
"Two days," Gulkgulka said. He left, ignoring the Telkan's protests.
It was three days until the fleet came out of hyperspace to Point Iota of the Mar-gite Defensive Line.
Gulkgulka intended on his armories passing inspection when the fleet arrived.
Specialist Grade Five Armkept stepped exactly one pace from the front of Captain Nakwel's desk. The Captain was dressed in his PT uniform, a water bottle in one hand that the Captain was drinking out of. Armkept waited until the Captain finished drinking before saluting. The Captain returned the salute.
"At ease, Marine," Captain Nakwel said. He squinted slightly. "You looked pissed off."
"That dick of a Master Armorer is visiting the armories today," Armkept said.
"We pass?" Nakwel asked.
Armkept shook his head. "No."
"Something not servicable?" Nakwel asked.
Armkept shook his head again. "No, sir. Everything is ready to go. He just wants everything stripped back down to frame, he wants the Helreginn suits replaced with the standard M9 Powered Combat Suits, and he wants everything cleaned again, sir."
"Tell him to eat rocks," Nakwel said. He tapped the emitter, bringing up his email, and scanned it. When he found what he was looking for, he tapped the email and brought it up before waving a hand through it to toss it to Armkept. "There. That's Corps wide. Straight from Telkan itself. Helreginn Mark II suits only."
"He said if it isn't on the TO&E, he doesn't care, sir," Armkept said.
"I'll get with someone, tell that Space Force idiot to keep away from us," Captain Nakwel said. He sighed. "Great, now I have to go see the Battalion Commander."
"Sorry to cause so much problem, sir," Armkept said.
"Better this than having my ass hanging out while a couple million Mar-gite charge us," the Captain mumbled.
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne to HFY [link] [comments]
"And so it came to pass that the First of the Apostles, Enraged Phillip, Orisis of the Warsteel Flame, the Walking Warcrime and a hundred other names besides was washed clean of his past. Reborn under the hand of the Detainee, rebuilt as he was ever meant to be, Daxin Freeborn, new born, gave up his titles and accolades, surrendered to the will of the universe... and received in turn all that he had truly wanted." - Fables of Terra, Telkan Publishing House, 21,540 TXE
It was 'night' according to the *Gray Lady'*s shipboard clock. The halls were dimly lit, well enough to navigate easily, but dim enough that the lights from the holograms on the walls lit the wall around them.
Captain N'Skrek stopped outside the cabin door and rang the chime. After a moment the door whooshed open and he heard the Vice-Admiral say "Enter".
Just the way the Vice-Admiral spoke made N'Skrek slightly jealous. Even calm conversational speech the Vice-Admiral's voice was deep, rumbling, soothing, confident, projecting efficiency and dedication just by its mere existence.
N'Skrek wished he was in possession of such a voice.
He moved in, moving carefully due to his size.
The Admiral was in his duty trousers, comfortable looking fuzzy slippers, his undershirt, relaxing on the couch across from where a Treana'ad chair was reconfiguring from its former love-seat configuration. On the table in front of the Vice-Admiral was a bottle of amber liquid, a single glass half full with four ice cubes in it, and a holo-emitter that had a wireframe of a spaceship suspended in the cone, with data-boxes scattered around it.
"Ah, Captain," the Vice-Admiral said, standing up. "What brings you to my humble quarters this late at night?"
N'Skrek moved over to the chair, straddling it and settling down. "Just a few personal questions, Vice-Admiral."
"Always happy to share as long as it isn't too personal," the Vice-Admiral smiled. He sat down, lifted up a glass of a pale amber liquid. "Whiskey?"
"No, thank you," N'Skrek said. He looked around and was slightly startled at how lived-in the cabin looked. Holos and 2D snaps in frames, award letters here and there, books on the shelves, knicknacks sitting in magnetic base holders. There were even a few boxes, still taped up, next to the walls. The kitchen looked used but neat and tidy, the small 15x10 dining room had a feeling of meals eaten in companionship.
Sheer bulk and size of some of the Confederacy's members made it so that the size of personal quarters would seem lavish to smaller species.
It had a feeling that the Vice-Admiral had lived in the cabin for decades, not been run off by a bio-printer only a few days prior.
"Pardon the mess, I'm still moving in," the Vice-Admiral smiled. "Would you care for refreshment? I have a few cigars and a pack or two of cigarettes."
"No, thank you, Admiral Breakheader," N'Skrek said.
"Call me Raul, Captain, we're in an informal setting," the Vice-Admiral chuckled.
"May I ask what you're looking at, Raul?" N'Skrek asked.
The Vice-Admiral spun the hologram so that N'Skrek could see it clearly. It was a heavy cruiser in the Triumph class. Data on weaponry, shielding, drives, and personnel had been expanded into the boxes.
"Slowly catching up on the differences in ship construction, firepower, and operational expectations," Raul Breakheader said. "While not that much different from what I commanded, there are signifigant changes. The weapons fire faster, the shield emitters and the weapons cool faster, the drives emit less signature, have more power and endurance, and manpower requirements have gone down thanks to improvements in automation that I have determined are more than likely from applying Lanaktallan and Mantid automation theories and protocols. The point defense is more accurate and faster firing, the sensor packages are different, more high resolution, with better range and faster result return."
N'Skrek nodded.
"This heavy cruiser has the firepower, endurance, and capacity to soak up the damage of a battleship while only having the manpower of a light cruiser from my era," Raul said. He shook his head and gave a rueful chuckle. "Three hundred years of experience flushed down the tubes by Father Time."
"Is it really that bad?" N'Skrek asked.
"It's bad for me, good for the Confederacy, bad for the Mar-gite, good for the poor bastards we're trying to save," Raul said. He took a drink off of his class. "My assumptions and instincts are all wrong," he waved his hand through the hologram, dismissing it. "I've run a few wargame simulations with my former staff. Our tactics and strategy skills are still applicable, but the new capabilities of the equipment is something we're still burning into our brains and mental reflexes."
N'Skrek realized he suddenly did want a drink and a smoke.
"I'll take that drink and a cigarette," N'Skrek said.
Raul nodded, pouring a drink and getting up to get the pack of cigarettes and a lighter, setting the ashtray down first.
N'Skrek sipped at the drink for a moment then lit a cigarette.
"Does it bother you, being this out of data when it comes to information?" N'Skrek asked.
Raul gave a laugh. "Believe it or not, it bothers me more than giving up command of the Gray Lady bothered me. I can't be trusted to give advice, since weapon ranges are longer with more accuracy. I'd swan right into the enemy's range thinking I was a good hundred thousand kilometers beyond maximum effective range. That gets good sailors killed."
"I still want you in an advisory role," N'Skrek said.
Raul nodded. "Outside of ship to ship combat, I'm your man."
"That's why I wanted to ask you a few personal questions."
"Ask away."
"I've been perusing your service record. You and the rest of the former command staff," N'Skrek said. "The tactics from the First Mar-gite War, there's not much data."
"It was what, forty-thousand years ago?" Raul took another drink off his glass. "The only ones that would keep that data would be the Mantid and Lank deep storage databases."
"There seems to be large gaps, even from I've been able to pull up. I can't figure out why," N'Skrek admitted.
"Because we cracked planets, novasparked suns, and went full scorched earth to stop them," Raul said. He closed his eyes and reached up to rub his temples with his middle and forefingers. "A complete shitshow. It brought about the end of the Confederate Senate. The Confederacy was doing pretty bad already, with the Confederate Congress getting lynched enmasse when everyone found out what the Mar-gite were doing."
He sipped at his glass.
"We cut off their reinforcements, surrounded them, pushed them tighter and tighter into a circle using Gen-Kiss-Can tactics. What we didn't planet crack or novaspark, we eradicated from the ground," he sighed and sipped at his glass. "Any silicon based planet was cracked and gecko'd into a new carbon based planet."
He set down the glass.
"It was a pretty dark time, but it's the only tactic that can work," he said. He tapped the table. "You had another Mar-gite war, but didn't follow out tactics, which is why you had a resurgence less than three hundred years later. You missed their longsleep vessels," he tapped next to the holoemitter. "That's OK. We missed those silver ships."
"Those give off a pulse that disables electronics, shuts down computer systems, and causes reactors to go into emergency shutdown," N'Skrek said. "Zero point reactors aren't affected, which is why right now the Fleet is strapping zero point reactors to the power rooms of the ships."
It was Raul's turn to nod silently.
"Your vessels use sensor system bandwidth we didn't even know existed back then. There's a good chance that we missed those vessels and they ran home with the data then spent forty-thousand years coming up with a single trick to disable our vessels," Raul said. He gave a chuckle. "That tells me a lot about them right there."
"What?" N'Skrek took a long drag of his cigarette, relaxing.
"They're a Precursor race. One trick ponies. They find one trick, at first just the Mar-gite, to overwhelm everyone else. They probably have their own 'there is only enough for one' stupidity going on. When that didn't work, they didn't bother trying to find a multi-layered multi-prong counter to us, like Confederate battle doctrine states, but instead put all their effort to a single attack that would grant them victory," Raul said. He tapped the table with the edge of his glass. "Your people and mine are the only heavy hitters that never did that. Treana'ad tried multiple approaches and you know humans."
"Not really," N'Skrek said. "You've been gone a long time."
Raul nodded, tapping his glass on the tabletop. "Yeah. I forgot. My people throw rocks, spears, pile on the leopard with knives, spears, bare hands, and teeth. Your people and mine, we use the shotgun approach, everyone else used 'this works all the time against everyone' on their foes."
N'Skrek sipped at the glass, the taste going from burning to a warm soothing.
"I looked up the Mithril Nebula Conflict, but data is sparse," he said.
The Vice-Admiral poured himself another glass. "Elves that fell to Hellspace worship. Effective and tenacious fighters. Lasted over a hundred years. Again, planet crackers and glassing from orbit. Massive fleet engagements and ground fighting. Tens of millions of troops on thousands of planets, all tearing each other's guts out."
"Sounds bad," N'Skrek said.
"It was," Raul said. He sipped at the glass. "Not as bad as Orion's Shoulder or Tannhauser Gate, but still really bad."
N'Skrek took another sip. "There's another mention that has almost no data."
Raul stiffened slightly, looking away.
"The Clownface Nebula Conflict. I was interested in your..."
Raul looked N'Skrek in the face and N'Skrek found himself drawing back.
The human's eyes were glowing a hot amber.
"I don't know you well enough," the human growled.
N'Skrek had thought the tales, the historical records, had been mistaken about the way a human's eyes glowed in response to their emotions.
Not any more.
Staring into those hot amber eyes, the cold blue still visible somehow behind the amber, he found himself swallowing thickly.
"Oh."
He was the assigned Master Armorer for the Telkan Marine Division aboard the Gray Lady.
He was also a dick.
What mattered to him was all of the Arms Rooms passing inspection. All the weapons passing cleanliness inspections. All of the armors passing inspection.
Nothing else mattered.
He didn't care about the feelings of the personnel turning in the weapons and armor. To him, there was no "I'll do it tomorrow" because if a being could do it tomorrow, then they could come down and do a level three cleaning tomorrow after a level one cleaning today.
It didn't matter what time their CO said they would be released.
Nobody left the Arms Rooms until their weapons and armor were cleaned to at least baseline Level Two standards.
He didn't care that troops were forced to rub the bluing off the weapons. He didn't care that the 'cleaning' scraped the parts over and over to remove even the most miniscule traces of carbon or silicon powder. He didn't care that the power lead contacts were scrubbed over and over to make them shine.
No, what mattered is that the Arms Rooms under his control could pass an inspection at any time.
Every sixty to ninety days, all weapons and armor were pulled to be cleaned again.
The second most important thing was dress right dress. In civilian terms it meant that everything was perfectly identical, that it all lined up neatly and exactly. All slogans, graffiti, modifications all had to be removed. All non-standard additions were to be removed before the armor or weapons were accepted.
If the trooper had added an additional coolant line to the M318 or the M2D2E7, well, it had to come off and the changes undone.
He didn't care about troops whining about 'field efficiency' or 'operational modifications', what he cared about was dress right dress.
Which meant the two dozen Helreginn, Mark II suits offended him.
He was currently at one of the Telkan Marine Corps Arms Rooms, which, he had reminded the Armorer, fell underneath his jurisdiction as the Master Armorer.
The majority of the armor was proper Telkan Marine Powered Combat Armor.
Except those two dozen suits.
Ten of them had graffiti on them. From "Can't Touch This" to "Bring the Brrrt!" to cartoon starfish with "Sad Starfish Noises" above it. The weapons were all older models. Thousands of years out of date and dating back to the Second Mar-gite War.
"I want those suits replaced with modern suits," Gulgulka said, his voice bubbly and hoarse, like all the males of his species. "Those suits are not listed upon the shipboard TO&E for the Telkan Marines."
The Telkan stared at him for a moment. "I was ordered by Division Command to replace all of the standard modern suits with the Helreginn Mark II models."
"Not according to the TO&E," Gulkgulka said. "I don't care what's claimed, but unless the TO&E has changed, the only authorized suits are the Telkan Powered Combat Armor series," he made a tossing motion to a nearby holoemitter. It came to life, displaying the power armor listing for the Kilo Company TO&E.
"Those armors, in that exact number. No more, no less, no unauthorized markings or additions," Gulkgulka said. "Until then, this Arms Room is considered out of regulation and I expect it to conform to standards within two standard ship days."
"But..." the Armorer started.
"Two days," Gulkgulka said. He left, ignoring the Telkan's protests.
It was three days until the fleet came out of hyperspace to Point Iota of the Mar-gite Defensive Line.
Gulkgulka intended on his armories passing inspection when the fleet arrived.
"At ease, Marine," Captain Nakwel said. He squinted slightly. "You looked pissed off."
"That dick of a Master Armorer is visiting the armories today," Armkept said.
"We pass?" Nakwel asked.
Armkept shook his head. "No."
"Something not servicable?" Nakwel asked.
Armkept shook his head again. "No, sir. Everything is ready to go. He just wants everything stripped back down to frame, he wants the Helreginn suits replaced with the standard M9 Powered Combat Suits, and he wants everything cleaned again, sir."
"Tell him to eat rocks," Nakwel said. He tapped the emitter, bringing up his email, and scanned it. When he found what he was looking for, he tapped the email and brought it up before waving a hand through it to toss it to Armkept. "There. That's Corps wide. Straight from Telkan itself. Helreginn Mark II suits only."
"He said if it isn't on the TO&E, he doesn't care, sir," Armkept said.
"I'll get with someone, tell that Space Force idiot to keep away from us," Captain Nakwel said. He sighed. "Great, now I have to go see the Battalion Commander."
"Sorry to cause so much problem, sir," Armkept said.
"Better this than having my ass hanging out while a couple million Mar-gite charge us," the Captain mumbled.
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
2024.04.08 04:22 mechakid Solar Wind - Part 35
This is a fan fiction. Events depicted here are not canon, though perhaps they could be. u/spacepaladin15, love your universe, thank you for letting us play in the sandbox.
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---
Memory transcription subject: Captain Katsuro Hara, destroyer UNSS Amatsukaze-Kai, Sol System, Titan Shipyards.
Date [standardized human time]: 1323, October 19, 2136
I was going through the reports from Earth, making sure that everyone in my crew was properly informed about their families. This was actually a rather daunting task, since it meant cross-referencing the files for every member of my crew with the master database on Earth. I was aided by the fact that someone managed to write an ap for it in less than 12 hours, but the response times were still slow.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my door. I bid the person to enter, and the door slid open to reveal my first officer.
"Ed, have a seat. What can I do for you?"
"Well sir, I need some advice. I've been offered a command."
"I know, I recommended you. What ship?"
"The Samuel B. Roberts."
I sat back and thought for a moment. "She's one of the new ones, isn't she? You should take it."
Evans nodded. "I know I should sir, but... Amatsukaze feels like home. I kind of hate to leave her." My first officer was leaning forward, wringing his hands as he spoke.
I let out a sigh. "I understand. I think about all the ships that I have been posted on, and some were definitely harder to leave than others..." I sat up a bit, squaring up to him. "Ed, let's leave the question of your own career aside for a second, and think about Earth's situation for a minute. The UN Navy just lost three quarters of its crews. On top of that, our ship building is only going to get faster. Earth needs every experienced officer we can get, and you're one of the best I've had the pleasure of serving with. It would be a waste to not have you in command of a ship." I gave him a half smile. "So as difficult as it will be for me to get used to a new first officer, not to mention a new lead navigator, our home needs you to be more."
"Thank you, sir. I think I understand what you're saying."
"I know you do, Edward. Before you go though, perhaps you can name your replacement?"
"That's easy. Lieutenant Sapir."
"Interesting choice. Why not Wilhelm? He technically outranks her.
This time it was Edward's turn to smile. "Wilhelm is a fine officer, and dedicated, but he's too focused on his engines, not on people."
"You know, he still jokes about how this is his ship, and I just borrow it."
"You need more zees and vees in that sentence, sir."
I gave a chuckle of amusement and stood, walking to one of my storage cabinets. and pulling out a bottle, and two sakazuki. I placed the saucers on my desk and poured two measures. "If you would so honor me, I propose a toast. To the new Captain Evans."
Edward took one of the sakazuki and I took the other. We both tipped the saucers back and set them back on the desk. Edward then came to attention and saluted. "It's been an honor serving with you, Captain Hara."
I returned the salute, then took his hand. "I assure you, the honor has been mine. If I'm lucky, you'll get assigned to my squadron. You had best get packing."
Edward nodded and left my room.
---
Date [standardized human time]: 1530, October 19, 2136
There was another knock on my door.
"Enter."
"Captain, Lieutenant Azrael Sapir reporting as ordered."
"Have a seat, Miss Sapir."
The Israeli weapons officer sat down, as I finished putting my signature on a piece of paper. She looked nervous, which was understandable since she had no idea why I had called her. I set the pen down, then picked up my stamp, embossing the document.
"I have some good news for you, Lieutenant. Your family in Haifa is all safe and accounted for."
I could see her relief. "Thank you, sir. I suspected they would be, but it's good to know for certain."
"It is. Now for the next piece of information. Commander Edward Evans will be leaving Amatsukaze. He has been offered his own command."
"I see, sir. May I ask if we know who will be assigned to replace him?"
I took the piece of paper from my desk and passed it to Azrael. "You are. Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander."
Azrael's eyes went wide as she took the piece of paper delicately, as if it might burst into flames. Carefully she read it over, making sure of everything on the page. A promotion, her designation as Amatsukaze's executive officer, and of course a change in accommodations.
"Along with that, I have a gift for you." I pulled a bundle out from under my desk, handing it to her. Azrael untied the thin hemp string, and unfolded the green silk wrapping, revealing a beautifully crafted Vered Jericho. The blade was a Damascus steel, and the pommel was inlaid with the Star of David. "None of my swords have ever failed me, just as I know you will never fail me."
"It's... beautiful. Captain, I... May I make it part of my dress uniform?"
"Of course, that's what it is meant for."
"Thank you, Captain. Of course I accept this honor and duty."
"I knew you would. Now, your first task as my new X.O. is to help me reorganize these sections. We're losing about one third of our veteran crew to other ships, and we'll be taking on inexperienced replacements including 3 Venlil, a Zurulian , and a Yotul."
"Aye, sir..."
submitted by mechakid to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
First / Previous / Next
---
Memory transcription subject: Captain Katsuro Hara, destroyer UNSS Amatsukaze-Kai, Sol System, Titan Shipyards.
Date [standardized human time]: 1323, October 19, 2136
I was going through the reports from Earth, making sure that everyone in my crew was properly informed about their families. This was actually a rather daunting task, since it meant cross-referencing the files for every member of my crew with the master database on Earth. I was aided by the fact that someone managed to write an ap for it in less than 12 hours, but the response times were still slow.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my door. I bid the person to enter, and the door slid open to reveal my first officer.
"Ed, have a seat. What can I do for you?"
"Well sir, I need some advice. I've been offered a command."
"I know, I recommended you. What ship?"
"The Samuel B. Roberts."
I sat back and thought for a moment. "She's one of the new ones, isn't she? You should take it."
Evans nodded. "I know I should sir, but... Amatsukaze feels like home. I kind of hate to leave her." My first officer was leaning forward, wringing his hands as he spoke.
I let out a sigh. "I understand. I think about all the ships that I have been posted on, and some were definitely harder to leave than others..." I sat up a bit, squaring up to him. "Ed, let's leave the question of your own career aside for a second, and think about Earth's situation for a minute. The UN Navy just lost three quarters of its crews. On top of that, our ship building is only going to get faster. Earth needs every experienced officer we can get, and you're one of the best I've had the pleasure of serving with. It would be a waste to not have you in command of a ship." I gave him a half smile. "So as difficult as it will be for me to get used to a new first officer, not to mention a new lead navigator, our home needs you to be more."
"Thank you, sir. I think I understand what you're saying."
"I know you do, Edward. Before you go though, perhaps you can name your replacement?"
"That's easy. Lieutenant Sapir."
"Interesting choice. Why not Wilhelm? He technically outranks her.
This time it was Edward's turn to smile. "Wilhelm is a fine officer, and dedicated, but he's too focused on his engines, not on people."
"You know, he still jokes about how this is his ship, and I just borrow it."
"You need more zees and vees in that sentence, sir."
I gave a chuckle of amusement and stood, walking to one of my storage cabinets. and pulling out a bottle, and two sakazuki. I placed the saucers on my desk and poured two measures. "If you would so honor me, I propose a toast. To the new Captain Evans."
Edward took one of the sakazuki and I took the other. We both tipped the saucers back and set them back on the desk. Edward then came to attention and saluted. "It's been an honor serving with you, Captain Hara."
I returned the salute, then took his hand. "I assure you, the honor has been mine. If I'm lucky, you'll get assigned to my squadron. You had best get packing."
Edward nodded and left my room.
---
Date [standardized human time]: 1530, October 19, 2136
There was another knock on my door.
"Enter."
"Captain, Lieutenant Azrael Sapir reporting as ordered."
"Have a seat, Miss Sapir."
The Israeli weapons officer sat down, as I finished putting my signature on a piece of paper. She looked nervous, which was understandable since she had no idea why I had called her. I set the pen down, then picked up my stamp, embossing the document.
"I have some good news for you, Lieutenant. Your family in Haifa is all safe and accounted for."
I could see her relief. "Thank you, sir. I suspected they would be, but it's good to know for certain."
"It is. Now for the next piece of information. Commander Edward Evans will be leaving Amatsukaze. He has been offered his own command."
"I see, sir. May I ask if we know who will be assigned to replace him?"
I took the piece of paper from my desk and passed it to Azrael. "You are. Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander."
Azrael's eyes went wide as she took the piece of paper delicately, as if it might burst into flames. Carefully she read it over, making sure of everything on the page. A promotion, her designation as Amatsukaze's executive officer, and of course a change in accommodations.
"Along with that, I have a gift for you." I pulled a bundle out from under my desk, handing it to her. Azrael untied the thin hemp string, and unfolded the green silk wrapping, revealing a beautifully crafted Vered Jericho. The blade was a Damascus steel, and the pommel was inlaid with the Star of David. "None of my swords have ever failed me, just as I know you will never fail me."
"It's... beautiful. Captain, I... May I make it part of my dress uniform?"
"Of course, that's what it is meant for."
"Thank you, Captain. Of course I accept this honor and duty."
"I knew you would. Now, your first task as my new X.O. is to help me reorganize these sections. We're losing about one third of our veteran crew to other ships, and we'll be taking on inexperienced replacements including 3 Venlil, a Zurulian , and a Yotul."
"Aye, sir..."