The United Nations has said that an Indian staff member's death this week in Gaza was caused by an Israeli tank attack on his vehicle.

Col Waibhav Kale, a former Indian army officer, died on Monday after a UN vehicle was struck near the city of Rafah. Another staffer was injured.
Col Kale's death is the first of an international UN worker in Gaza since the start of the conflict.
The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) has said the incident is under review.
On Wednesday, UN Deputy Spokesperson Farhan Haq said the organisation had "no doubt" that shots from an Israeli tank hit the back of the car, which was clearly marked as a UN vehicle.
The UN had earlier said the workers were travelling to the European Hospital near Rafah when their vehicle was struck.
Footage posted on social media and verified by the BBC showed a marked UN vehicle with multiple bullet holes outside the hospital.
UN said its planned movements had been announced in advance to Israeli authorities.

I don't know that this is truly the right sub to ask this but I know a good portion of you all are good at thinking things through, solving what I call algebra problems in thinking, finding the value of the unknown variable in the middle when you think you already know the beginning and the result. I've become good at this too since i started some mindful practices 2y ago but I think this one may be too big or too different than what I'm used to figuring out so I'm asking for other thinkers/figure-outers.
I'm mid 40s, when I was young elementary school age, my parents were sorta hippyish in some ways and sorta conservative in others protecting me from sex, drugs, violence and bad words on tv. I think maybe though they thought of violent historical/factual programs as "different" and ok. Possibly to instill some type of anti-war sentiment in me. My dad watched lots of war stuff. I saw lots of bomb and bullet combat deaths on tv but the executions were the things I remember most. Regardless of one's thoughts on the death penalty on or off the battlefield, what I saw with a very young mind was someone captured and helpless who knows it's coming being killed by a group of people that they in the moment posed no danger to.
I can remember one quite vividly from probably before I was old enough to read, multiple guys with their hands tied behind their back and with an 8 foot tall bamboo pole tied to their hands behind their back, pole standing up in a vertical fashion. The pole was not fastened to anything else. A soldier would grab the pole and use it to guide/push the guy from behind to a spot where they would give the pole a quick shove knocking the guy to his knees and then shooting him in the back of the head. He gets shut off like a light switch and falls dead face first to the ground. I'd seen a few dramatized state executions (electric chair) on tv too. The guard comes to get the guy out of his cell "I'm afraid it's time buddy" is my one of those I don't forget.
The picture of that bamboo one especially has popped up in my mind my whole life. I've never until recently thought of this as maybe a bad thing maybe affects me. But it's quite obvious from what I just typed that it has in some way. What do you all think of very young kids seeing things like this keeping those memories for life as vivid as my first kiss?

The way armor and penetration works in the game is that every weapon (or damage source) and enemy part has an armor point (AP) value that ranges from 1-8.
AP1 represents having no armor / penetration.
AP2 is called light armor / penetration. This is by far the most common AP value for primary weapons.
AP3 is called medium armor / penetration. This is the highest AP value primary weapons can have.
(Although not tagged in the game, AP4 is called 'heavy' armor / penetration by the community. Just know that AP4 is far from the highest value. There are support weapons and enemies with AP values 5+.)
When you shoot an enemy part with a weapon, the game checks the AP value of your weapon against the AP value of the enemy part.
If weapon AP:
greater than enemy AP : You deal 100% damage, indicated by a red hitmarker.
equals enemy AP : You deal 50% damage, indicated by a white hitmarker.
less than enemy AP : Your bullet deflects, dealing 0% damage, indicated by the deflection icon.
So far, so good. The problem is that enemies with AP2 (light armor) and AP3 (medium armor) are extremely common, especially at difficulties 7-9.
Against bugs:
AP2 / light armor: The Brood Commander's head / torso, the Charger's butt
AP3 / medium armor: Hive Guard front, almost the entire body of Bile Spewers
Against bots:
AP2 / light armor: Devastator limbs, Hulk vents
AP3 / medium armor: Scout strider legs / base, Devastator torsos, Tank and Cannon Tower vents, Factory Strider mini-guns and spawner belly
What does all this mean?
Against all the AP2 targets listed above, light penetrating weapons deal half their damage, going from 100% -> 50% (while medium penetrating weapons deal 100% damage).
Against all the AP3 targets listed above (notably: bile spewers + almost everything difficult about the bots), light penetrating weapons completely bounce off, going from 50% -> 0% (while medium penetrating weapons deal 50% damage).
Against most of the difficulty-defining enemies, light pen weapons deal -50% damage relative to medium pen weapons.
-50% damage reduction is massive. To be sure, players can try to work this reduction (somewhat) by aiming for weak spots (Brood Commander legs and Devastator heads) and maneuvering around other enemies (like Hive Guards), but having to do so comes with its own costs, often requiring time and pinpoint accuracy helldivers can ill afford in the heat of battle.
When you average across all possible enemies, light pen weapons are losing somewhere from 20-40% of their damage potential (not to mention that they are useless against all AP3 targets) just because they are light pen.
Why does this matter?
Well, light pen weapons are not balanced around this fact. To compensate for the fact that having the 'light pen' tag effectively means -30% damage relative to a gun with the same damage with the 'medium pen' tag, light pen weapons need substantially more base damage to compensate.
The problem is that in many cases, the opposite is true, with medium pen weapons (mostly) getting higher base damage.
Compare:
Diligence (Light Pen, 125 damage) vs. Diligence CS (Med Pen, 140 damage)
Verdict (Light Pen, 125 damage) vs. Senator (Med Pen, 175 damage)
Liberator (Light Pen, 60 damage) vs. Adjudicator (Med Pen, 80 damage)
Starting out behind, against AP2 targets these guns fall way behind:
Diligence (62.5 damage) vs. Diligence CS (140 damage)
Verdict (62.5 damage) vs. Senator (175 damage)
Liberator (30 damage) vs. Adjudicator (80 damage)
Against AP3 targets (numerous), this of course becomes comparatively even worse for light pen:
Diligence (0 damage) vs. Diligence CS (70 damage)
Verdict (0 damage) vs. Senator (87.5 damage)
Liberator (0 damage) vs. Adjudicator (40 damage)
Unless the enemy spawning is going to fundamentally change to prioritize enemies with no armor, light pen weapons need significantly more damage to compensate for reliably losing -50% damage against the hardest enemies to fight against.

Yelena watched the doorway through which the young Ashfield scion had just left for a few moments more as she pondered over the meeting they’d just had.
Precocious indeed, she thought with a smile.
A smile that only grew as her gaze flitted over to her childhood friend’s… complicated expression.
It seemed young William’s decision had come as much a surprise to his instructor as it had come to Yelena herself.
“He said no,” Joana said after a few moments.
Yelena nodded slowly as she reclined into her friend’s surprisingly comfortable chair. Given what she knew of Griffith, the Queen had half expected the thing to be harder than mithril when she first sat down - but it was surprisingly plush.
“Not without good reason,” Yelena said as she shifted about.
“Good reason?” Joana scoffed. “You offered him your daughter’s hand.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You offered all of your daughter’s hands.”
Yelena rolled her eyes at her friend’s tone. “And if he’d accepted I would have considered it a bargain.”
A minor scandal and the loss of a number of future marriage alliances was ultimately nothing compared to the ability to raid Kraken nests. And that was ignoring that a hypothetical means to slay kraken in deep water would undoubtedly have other applications.
Applications that would be incredibly useful in the months to come.
Though, perhaps, if young William’s plans came to fruition that coming storm could be delayed by a few years.
“…Are things truly that desperate?” Joana asked quietly.
“They’re not great,” Yelena admitted, massaging the bridge of her nose. “The Blackstones… I knew they’d resist the reforms, but to threaten open rebellion?”
She’d not expected that. Not even in her wildest dreams. Lindholm’s only human ducal house had ever been wilful, and their antipathy towards the Orcs who dwelled in the Sunlands was well documented, but surely even they could see why Yelena was doing what she was.
Regardless of what her critics said, her decision to end the slave trade in Lindholm was most assuredly not the result of ‘useless sentiment’.
Far from it.
Oh certainly, Yelena had no love for the institution of slavery, for reasons both moral and financial, but that wasn’t why she’d created the abolitionist movement.
With each passing year, the Homeland’s view of Lindholm grew ever more covetous. More and more the Sun Empress and Desert Khan’s rhetoric centred less on their ongoing deadlock with each other and more on the idea of ‘recovering wayward territories’.
Certainly, that could have been a reference to Old Growth as much as Lindholm, but Yelena doubted it.
Lindholm might have scared the Solites and Lunites into retreating by choosing to engage them over deep water, but ultimately those victories were borne of a lack of conviction on the part of her foes.
Had the two disparate fleets been willing to risk the permanent loss of a small portion of their mithril cores in order to achieve victory and push towards the mainland, they may well have been able to flip the allegiances of a number of Lindholmian houses.
Oh, certainly, the high elves and dark elves of Lindholm might have prided themselves on maintaining the strictures of equality that defined the Old Empire – but with either Solite or Lunite airships hovering over their family castles, she couldn’t help but wonder if some might reconsider their stances on their fellow elves.
No, while an invasion of Lindholm would certainly be costly, it was entirely within the realm of reason.
An invasion of the Old Growth however?
There was a reason the Wood Elves – as they named themselves – had managed to remain independent of both the other two, much larger, nations despite sharing land borders with both of them.
Their strange magics might have been muted and weak beyond the borders of their home, but within their territory they were nigh invincible.
No, if there was to be any ‘reclamation’ of any territory belonging to the old Aelven Imperium, it was likely to come from Lindholm.
To that end, the kingdom could ill afford to keep feeding people and iron into the meatgrinder that was the Sunlands. Could ill afford to keep orcs that might otherwise be valuable mages laboring in the fields under the eyes of watchful taskmasters.
Lindholm needed every mage-knight it could get – regardless of the color of their skin or the shape of their ears.
Yet after year and years of negotiations and attempts to shift public opinion on the matter, the North still remained willfully ignorant of that truth.
“Surely they know that even if they win, any kind of division between us will just see the Homeland sweep over them?” Joana said.
Yelena shrugged. “I have a feeling that Duchess Blackstone’s victories over both the Lunites and Solites has left her confident of repeating the fact should it come to that.”
Foolhardy, in her eyes, but no one had ever accused the Blackstones of being meek. Nor being incapable of backing up their sometimes insane claims. What other House could lay claim to an ancestry that had once beaten back the Old Imperium at the height of its power?
Where other human nobles had been sworn into the Old Imperium on their knees with their battered armies scattered to the winds, the Blackstones managed to resist long and hard enough that the Imperial Legions had been forced to come to the negotiating table.
Ultimately, the Blackstones had still been absorbed into the Empire, but they’d done so on their terms with their heads unbowed.
…Though it was somewhat ironic that nearly a thousand years on, it was now those same humans in the position of the old Imperial Legion while it was the free orcs who now utilized the same strategies as the old Blackstone tribes – right down to the Wyvern riders.
“I could imagine that,” Joana muttered.
“Is it strange that I think she might pull it off?” Yelena said – though only because she was sure that no one beyond her friend and silent guards was listening.
“Part of me wants to argue that, but… do you think it’s a human thing?”
Yelena thought about the Blackstones and the young man who’d just turned down a chance to be king one day.
“Perhaps,” she admitted.
Personally she thought it was because humans didn’t live as long – and there was more of them. When your life could be measured in but a single century, perhaps you were a bit more inclined towards taking risks that might make an elf balk?
…Risks like trying to take your first year team up against a third year team in the name of trying to avoid a war.
Or at least delay it.
“I still can’t believe he said no to your offer,” Joana said, something… complicated in her friend’s expression.
Yelena grinned at the sight, though she wrestled down the urge to ask a number of probing questions of her normally straight laced friend, who seemed to have a childish crush on a young man nearly ten years her junior – and her student beside.
Normally she’d be all over a scandal that delicious.
Alas, right now was work time. “I can. He gave me his reasons and they were solid.”
Well, solid enough. If you squinted a bit. And tried to think ‘human’.
Rather than all-but guarantee a war by having the Crown break off his betrothal, he intended to do it himself.
Loudly and publicly.
And if he won – and that was a big if – he’d all but destroy any kind of excuse the Blackstones might have to declare war in response. Indeed, by being ‘shamed’ in such a public manner they’d need to spend a few years at least regathering lost support.
After all, who would want to follow a house into a civil war just after their heir was publicly humiliated by a team of cadets two years her junior?
Academy fights weren’t just schoolyard squabbles. They were civil conflicts writ small. A microcosm of the constant jostling and jockeying of Lindholm’s houses.
In other words, they held weight.
If Willaim could beat his fiancée, Yelena knew she’d owe him more than she could ever truly repay. A few more years of preparation would turn an almost guaranteed defeat into something much more even.
Especially if she could scoop up who knows how many mithril cores that were otherwise just littering the ocean. Ninety percent of them would be of limited use immediately, but a few years would give her time to construct at least a few more airship hulls to house the devices.
All that was required was for William to win.
“Solid,” Joana scoffed. “His plan is to go up against a group of third years with a team of firsties.”
Yelena tried to keep the intensity she was feeling out of her tone as she leaned forward. “You don’t think he can do it?”
Joana opened her mouth before hesitating. “I… normally I’d say no. Talented as they are, the gap in experience is just too wide.”
“But…”
The dark elf rolled her silver eyes behind her glasses. “But, with William’s newest invention…” The woman paused. “Son of a bitch.”
For just a moment Yelena was treated to the rare sight of her friend laughing. “I can’t believe I thought he ‘just wanted to use it in a schoolyard fight’,” the Instructor said.
“Well, he sort of is, in a way.” Yelena shrugged. “It just so happens to be a very important schoolyard fight.”
Joana laughed. “I suppose it is.”
“Still, do you think he can win?”
Joana straightened up. “I genuinely don’t know. With his new invention he might be able to catch her off guard. If he can skew the numbers in his favor at the start, they might have a chance.”
Yelena frowned. Not exactly the ringing endorsement she wanted to hear, but that was part of why she valued Joana’s friendship.
Always had really, even when the girl had first come to court at the age of ten as a potential playmate for Yelena’s daughters and told her that her dress made her look like some kind of tropical bird.
Something Yelena realized upon closer inspection was true.
Ever since, the Queen had made a point of checking in with the girl from time to time, if only for the occasional shot of unvarnished truth.
It was a strange ‘friendship’ from the outside looking in, but one that got less so as time went by and the age gap became less stark.
“Well, let’s hope the human capacity for the nigh impossible isn’t relegated entirely to the Blackstones,” Yelena muttered.
Because if it wasn’t, the boy would either have to marry one of Yelena’s daughters or die.
She could not afford the knowledge in his head to reach the Blackstones. To that end, he’d either accept her offer – rolling the dice on the onset of war and all that might come with it – or he’d suffer an accident.
As much as it pained the royal sovereign’s heart to see such a bright and enterprising soul be snuffed out before its time.
Being forced to make such decisions was simply the price of wearing the crown.
“Still,” Joana said, and Yelena was grateful for the distraction as she looked up. “Will you actually leave him alone if he pulls this off?”
Yelena scoffed.
“Of course not. If anything I’ll up my offer.” She shrugged. “I’ll give him you, myself and half my court if it means getting my hands on what’s in his head.”
It was actually a little amusing how Joana flushed at her words, even as she shook her head.
“Yes, that sounds a lot more like you.”
Yelena nodded. Damn right it did.
Though as she did, a thought occurred to her. “Hey Joana?”
“Yes?”
“In your reports to me, didn’t you mention the Ashfield boy having some kind of nickname.”
The dark elf pondered the words for a moment before stiffening. “Hmm, he does actually. A rather apt one considering. Apt enough that I’m wondering if whatever he used to kill Al’Hundra is related.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What is it?”
Joana leaned back, her head craned upwards, as if seeking strength from above.
“Kraken Slayer.”
Yelena laughed. She couldn’t help it.
“Of course it is.”
“You killed Al’Hundra.”
William was still reeling a little from the conversation he’d just had, so he was actually a little caught off guard by a finger being shoved into his face the moment he stepped back into his teams quarters.
Ah, he thought. I promised answers.
Though it seemed that in his absence his team had managed to figure out some of those answers without him.
Glancing past Olzenya’s outstretched arm, he saw Marline shaking her head – as if to vehemently deny she’d told them anything.
She needn’t have bothered, her geass precluded it as an option. Hell, even once everyone found out it would preclude it as an option.
Which was for the best for the moment because now he wasn’t so much trying to hide what he’d done as how he’d done it. Admittedly, Marline didn’t know anything beyond the broadest details, but she knew enough to know that it was some kind of enchantment combined with alchemy.
Now it was possible the forces working against him – or rather simply to profit off him – had already figured that out and he’d hear the alchemy lab exploded any moment now, but he’d sooner put it off for as long as he could.
To that end, he turned to Olzenya – though not before politely lowering her pointing arm.
Something that, to her credit, the high elf allowed – actually looking a little embarrassed by her outburst and thus rudeness.
“Honestly, I was expecting something like that to come from Bonnlyn, not you,” he said to the slightly flushed high elf.
As he glanced over toward where the dwarf was sitting, she shrugged. “I realize I may not be the most classically polite individual around, but I’ve been a merchant long enough to recognize when someone’s got a trade secret they want to keep close to their chests.”
If anything, Olzenya flushed harder, as while she might not have been familiar with trade secrets, she was most definitely familiar with the notion of house spells that needed to be kept secret.
“I also thought ambushing him at the door was a little rude,” Verity murmured from the back of the room.
Olzenya coughed, before backing up. “Of course, I apologize for that William.”
More bemused than anything else, especially as the elf curtsied, he waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Or, understandable, I guess.”
“Good,” Ozlenya smiled, glad for his acceptance… before she shouted again. “Because you lied to us.”
“I did?”
“He didn’t,” Marline said. “He said he had something to bet against Tala.”
Indeed he had, something he’d kept hidden under a sheet. After all, he’d not wanted his big surprise to be spoiled by the rumors of his coming beating him to the cafeteria.
And they would.
Rumors in the academy somehow managed to move at light speed.
“He implied it was gold,” Olzenya shot back.
“And you said Tala wouldn’t go for it, but you came with us anyway,” Bonnlyn said.
Indeed, he had implied it was gold. Or ‘something valuable enough to catch her interest’.
“To comfort him after she shot him down,” Olzenya said. “Instead I damn near tripped over my own feet in front of everyone when he pulled an honest to goddess mithril core out of his ass.”
William was actually a little thrown off – and amused – by the sudden display of crassness from the noble girl.
“But he didn’t lie.” It was actually a little surprising – and heartwarming – to hear Verity speaking so forcefully.
And that Olzenya didn’t immediately snap at her for doing so. The team really had come a long way in just a few months.
Ah, the joys of shared suffering, William thought as he watched the girls bicker amongst themselves.
“As I’m sure you’ve all guessed, I have indeed been less than open about a few things,” he said, silencing all of them – except Marline who’d yet to speak in the first place. “With that said, I’ve never once lied to you about my end goal.”
“Breaking off your betrothal,” Marline said finally.
“Breaking off my betrothal without starting a war,” he said. “If it were that easy, the Queen would have done it for me just now.”
“You met the Queen?” Olzenya sounded a little faint.
“I did.”
Oh, how he did.
“Oh ancestors, please don’t tell me you hit on the queen!?” This time Marline sounded a little faint.
And he actually felt a little offended. “What!? Why would you think that.”
“You’re doing the same thing you do when we talk about Instructor Griffith,” Bonnlyn said with studiously neutral voice. “Or Instructor Morline. Or Instructor Flen. Or some of the guards.”
“Or that one cafeteria lady,” Verity chimed in, a little red in the face.
“Or the-”
“I do not!” He’d finally had enough of these aspersion on his character.
Across the room, a number of sighs rang out, even from the elves.
“At least now I knew why he never checked me out,” Bonnlyn said. “He’s got mommy issues. And I’m not old enough to tickle them.”
“Still, the Queen?” Olzenya hissed.
“I mean, have you seen her?” Marline muttered back. “I mean, I don’t agree with him… but I get it.”
“I didn’t ‘perv’ on the Queen.” Some part of him died on using such childish language. “We had a meeting about my plans and… what occurred with Al’Hundra. Needless to say, the fact that I’m here means she’s agreed to go ahead with them and I’m also to keep quiet about anything I may or may not have had to do with any Kraken going missing. Or their cores.”
He deliberately left out the royal marriage offer.
Still, with those words the room went silent. After all, if the Queen had told him to say nothing, he was expected to say nothing. Just because the North in general didn’t have much respect for royal authority didn’t mean the rest of the kingdom did.
Quite the opposite.
“Well, if the Queen has commanded you to remain silent, I suppose there’s nothing to be done,” Olzenya muttered. “Though I would like answers some day.”
“Hell, I’d like to know why you brought Marline in on your plans,” Bonnlyn said, glancing at the Dark Elf. “You know, and not the rest of us.”
There was no missing the hint of hurt there – which he understood.
“I can promise you it was purely a matter of convenient circumstance,” he said. “And I can promise you, I didn’t confide in Marline for free.”
All the girls glanced up as the dark elf nodded slowly. “He’s not lying – though I can’t say anymore. Literally. It’s a price I paid willingly, but one I doubt any of you would be interested in.”
Almost as one, he could see the lightbulbs turn on in everyone’s brain simultaneously – except for Verity, who took a few seconds.
‘Geass,’ thought none of them said it.
This time though, when the girls looked between him and Marline, there was a definite sense of wariness to it.
“Well, I suppose there’s nothing else to say then,” Bonnyln said. “I guess we should…”
“…Go to bed,” Olzenya nodded warily.
William grinned. “Good idea. Big day tomorrow and all that.”
That was an understatement, and he could tell everyone was thinking it as they made their way over to their rooms.
Still, it was true all the same.
They’d need their rest if they wanted to stand a chance tomorrow.
Indeed, they’d need every advantage they could get.
To that end, William could only hope he’d stacked the deck in their favor enough to matter.
…It took him a long time to get to sleep.
When he did awake, in the early hours of the morning, it was to the sound of an explosion.
In the direction of the old alchemy labs if I’m not wrong, he thought with a grim smile.
It seemed someone had decided to investigate his storage room even sooner than he’d anticipated.
Annoying, but it hardly mattered at this point in time.
All that really mattered was going back to sleep.
He had a big day ahead of him, after all.
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Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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Christie emerged from the bathroom once her nerves had calmed and found one of the chateau’s windows that looked out on the western ridgelines. She reached into her handbag and produced a stick of lipstick, sighted on a curve of blackness intersecting a particular constellation rising into the night sky, and pushed a discreet button on the base. The task force now had confirmation that Rayker was inside the chateau and the machine would be set in motion.
As she turned to head back to the party, Christie saw a different range of mountains in the corner of her eye. A fishhook stabbed into the muscle of her heart and tugged, while she was nearly overwhelmed with nausea. For a moment, a dusty valley surrounded her, the rocky ground coursing with streams of blood. The ghostly white face of Rose Djallen was before her, life fading from her eyes. Christie wanted to gasp, but she let the pain wash over her in silence, as they had all done so often. A moment’s concentration brought her back to the present, and the dangerous operation ahead.
Rayker’s expression had been so devoid of warmth—as though she wore her psychotic nature with pride. Christie couldn’t understand how someone could be so inhuman. She wondered what would happen if Rayker sensed the trap that was closing around her. Christie knew that she, and probably some of the guests, would be taken hostage. No doubt the dozens of Rangers stalking through the darkness would break cover, racing through the night to rescue her, with one particularly hard-headed individual out front. The highly skilled operators now preparing their own move on the chateau would fight their way inside, killing anyone who resisted them. The Banshee, their well-armed gunship, would break its cloak, leaving its position behind Ambrosia’s second moon to rain hellfire down on the small army that provided security for the Helvetic League’s pleasure planet. Rayker would probably die in a hail of gunfire—giving Rose her deserved retribution—for the Valkyrie would eagerly sacrifice their own lives before leaving one of their own behind.
Then the news of the incident would spread, and humanity’s thirty-seven worlds would talk of nothing else but the secret army of super soldiers that protected them from the arsenal of the Jotnar—an ancient and extinct civilization, who’s abandoned weapons and warships littered the stars. Nations, corporations and crime syndicates would find ways to track down those weapons, exploiting their incredible destructive power for their own selfish purposes. There would be war, billions would die, and, like those who had preceded them, humanity would probably wipe itself out.
Rose had died protecting Christie from Rayker’s drone army, but she had also died to uphold Valkyrie’s ancient responsibility.
That operation had ultimately saved the planet Caldera, but in the chaos and confusion of the battle Rayker had managed to slip away. The organization had spent nearly two years trying to hunt her down, but she was too skilled, too deeply enmeshed in the Helvetic League’s underworld.
The council of chiefs, Valkyrie’s inscrutable governing body, had agreed to form Task Force Nemesis under the command of General Smyrna. She was assigned the Mountain Ranger’s Bravo company—the Venomous Vipers—a Raider squadron of elite counter terrorists, and a task unit from Orbital Demolition Team Four. Supported by the Banshee and guided by Christie’s intelligence gathering unit, their mission statement was simple—do whatever it took to kill or capture Allana Rayker.
As they made slow, painstaking process, they began to receive indications that their target had rejoined her old corporate paymasters at VennZech, the most powerful weapons manufacturer in the galaxy. Then, the news broke that Joakkim Meissner, one of Rayker’s suspected allies, had been promoted to Chief Executive, arranging his party on Ambrosia to celebrate.
He had also invited one of the League’s rising stars in physics. The brilliant young doctor Ernst Kolar was a specialist in theoretical energy development. He had recently published a paper describing a theoretical anti-matter reactor alarmingly similar to those that powered the warships and killing machines of the Jotnar. Christie’s team leader, Jiao Zhang, had offered the high-confidence assessment that Rayker would refuse to let such an asset out of her sight. And, on the protected world of Ambrosia, what could she have to fear?
But Valkyrie had been breaking through Helvetic security barriers since the creation of the quasi-imperial state, and had become extremely good at it. And so, the operation had been set in motion.
Christie took a deep breath and prepared herself, soothing away any traces of nervousness. She left the outer hall and re-entered the party.
***
“Olympus, Olympus, Olympus,” a voice intoned through Kayla’s headset.
The code word signaled that Christie had identified Rayker in the chateau, and the operation was a go. A double burst of static followed; a squad-level transmission from Kes. It was the order to take out the security guards.
Kayla and Ray had crawled as close as they could to their position, readied their stun rifle and waited patiently. As the signal came in, the men had pushed away from their boulder rest spot and were resuming their patrol through the woods. Kayla waited until their line of sight had passed her, before she stood slowly, weapon aimed. A faint rustle told her that Ray had done the same.
The guard at the back, still slurping from a water bottle, fell a little further behind. The stun rifle’s projectile hit him in the neck, shocking his nervous system into an overload state. He seized and dropped to the ground, unconscious. The men ahead of him span and there was a mechanical thump from Ray’s weapon. Her shot struck center mass, and another figure collapsed, just as Kayla pulled the trigger again. The last guard went down quickly, but, to Kayla’s shock, seemed to remain conscious. He struggled on the ground like a dying fish as he tried to reach for his radio, so she sprinted forward and kicked him in the head.
Kayla wrinkled her nose and cursed quietly. The scientist who had trained her squad on the weapon had explained that a failed shot would result in the victim emptying the contents of their bowels and bladder. Looks like she had been right.
“Three down,” she muttered into her helmet mic. “No other contacts in sight.”
Even so, she continued to scan the distant trees carefully.
Ray secured the guards with serum injections while Tian and Yak, the other two members of the fire team joined them. The projectiles were gathered into Tian’s rucksack, and, when the rest of the squad arrived, they moved off through the trees together, climbing the slope until they reached another crest, and a chain link fence.
Half a mile away from the chateau, the main security compound provided a base for the guard’s rapid reaction force. The compound had a single entrance and out of the blockhouse blue light flickered to the loud chatter of an excited racing commentator.
Kayla stopped in the shadows of the trees and waited patiently. The air above her head snapped and cracked as rounds shot past, impacting security cameras and sensors around the compound. The bullets were a large caliber, but with a thermic charge core. Each strike glowed brilliantly as intense temperatures melted through their targets, leaving no evidence of what had neutralized them.
She grinned. Thandi was going to work, and though her presence and skill made Kayla feel much more confident, she would still tease her about doing the ‘easy part’ later.
In the near distance, there were a pair of flashes and loud zaps as the base’s generator and backup went out to EMP charges. Another squad from their platoon was working their own approach. That made Kayla nervous. The two elements would soon have to meet up, and nothing could be more dangerous to those who owned the night than confusing each other for the enemy.
She took her team around the base to the now dark main gate as the on-duty guards emerged to check on the loss of power. Stun rifle shots knocked them out, and the squad regrouped behind the cover of a vehicle bay, while Kayla identified the largest building in the compound and watched it attentively.
They waited patiently until the silence was broken by a new voice on the radio.
“Eyes on the barracks, north side. No movement.”
“South side clear,” Kayla confirmed.
“Approaching,” the other squad leader said.
Kayla waited until she saw shapes emerging from the shadows and sprinting behind the back of the large structure. Then, one leaned out from the corner, watching. Kayla tapped a control on her helmet, and a perfect white line broke through her grey world, pointing towards the figure. She was answered with a similar flash of infra-red energy, and her anxiety eased.
Kes, who had also been watching, tapped her shoulder, and Kayla led off towards the barracks.
From outside the Rangers could make out the annoyed calls of men and women stumbling around in the darkness. One emerged from a side door and nearly got off a shout before Tian tackled him and knocked him out. The two squads moved quickly, cracking open doorways and rolling gas grenades inside.
Invisible and odorless, the gas contained the signature compound Valkyrie used to erase memories. The Rangers waited a few minutes, safe behind their face masks, then entered and confirmed that all inside were unconscious. Kes and Thandi smashed a few liquor bottles against the walls, while others dragged the bodies into the main room, and distributed more ‘evidence’.
Eventually, Kes called ‘all clear’, and Kayla emerged from the building into the night, lifting her faceplate to breathe in some fresh air. She saw her fire team, Ray, Tian and Yak, heading to the vehicles to place EMP charges, and began to follow them, when a sharp rap on her helmet brought her up short.
She turned to see Thandi, vizor up, and an expectant expression on her face.
“Was that a curse word I heard earlier?” Thandi asked, keeping her voice low.
Kayla shook her head. “Negative. I was providing a biological assessment of the dude.”
“Ick. Two in the barracks were uh… in the middle of something when they passed out. I had to pull them apart.” She pulled a face. “That was gross.”
Kayla winked at her friend, who was spiritual enough for the both of them. “Unmarried, I bet. Your god approves.”
Thandi nodded gratefully, then shot her a look. “He’s not just my—"
Kes marched over, her expression severe. “Do either of you have EMP charges left?” she demanded.
“Yes Corporal,” Kayla nodded, and patted her rucksack.
“There’s a couple of transports left in the north corner. Get on it, then rejoin us on the east fence. Come on, we need to move quickly!”
Kayla scampered away, buzzing with energy. The squad still had to head for the chateau, and take up their position in the perimeter that was slowly drawing tighter around Rayker. She glanced at the dark mountains around her. In a dozen locations, radar arrays, missile defenses and communications stations were being similarly neutralized by small teams of Valkyrie from the various units. Soon they would have their prey, and Kayla privately hoped that she wouldn’t surrender.
***
Christie found Doctor Kolar, alone as usual, in the main hall and painfully out of place at such a large social gathering. He nursed a champagne glass, and smiled at passersby. Christie stared at him until their eyes met, and he quickly looked away, pretending to study one of Meissner’s diamond statues.
She walked in his direction, and as she passed, she flashed him a shy smile. Then, returning to her coterie of admirers, she looked back with another friendly expression.
Kolar cautiously approached the group, obviously unsure of what to do. The men ignored him, but the second he managed to breach the outer mass of bodies, Christie was on him.
“Oh hello! I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure!” she cried, extending her hand and beaming like a searchlight.
The other men frowned as they lost her attention.
“Um… All mine,” stammered Kolar. “Sorry. I’m—”
“Doctor Kolar, isn’t it?” interrupted a renowned and pompous pianist. “You’re working on space batteries for VennZech weapons research, or some such thing?”
“Well…” Kolar gulped. “We’re starting a new project on micro-singularities at the Planck scale, you see the current theory on weak—”
“It’s weak, you say?” The pianist laughed raucously as he slapped the doctor’s back. “Well, I never would have guessed, old boy.”
“Tell me, Zotty,” Christie cut in, addressing one of the other men, “Didn’t you just tell me this was one of Meissner’s inner circle?” she tottered forward slightly as she spoke.
“Correct,” the elder son and heir apparent of the largest media corporation in the League replied with a smile. He lifted his gaze from her bosom. “Doctor Kolar’s work is vital for the Maestro.”
Kolar smiled gratefully. “Indeed. Well, it’s about energy generation.”
“Oh, I hope you aren’t helping him make more of those dreadful bombs,” Christie said, and pouted. “War is very wrong! Really, I don’t know why they haven’t sanctioned the company for some of the absolutely horrid things they produce.”
The surrounding billionaires nodded their approval, while Kolar flushed. “No… well, I mustn’t talk about it, but I shouldn’t be getting involved in that side of VennZech’s business.”
“Quite right.” Christie nodded. “Oh, but you’re dry.” She turned to a waiter, grabbed a pair of glasses from his tray and handed one to Kolar.
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Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie

Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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Christie emerged from the bathroom once her nerves had calmed and found one of the chateau’s windows that looked out on the western ridgelines. She reached into her handbag and produced a stick of lipstick, sighted on a curve of blackness intersecting a particular constellation rising into the night sky, and pushed a discreet button on the base. The task force now had confirmation that Rayker was inside the chateau and the machine would be set in motion.
As she turned to head back to the party, Christie saw a different range of mountains in the corner of her eye. A fishhook stabbed into the muscle of her heart and tugged, while she was nearly overwhelmed with nausea. For a moment, a dusty valley surrounded her, the rocky ground coursing with streams of blood. The ghostly white face of Rose Djallen was before her, life fading from her eyes. Christie wanted to gasp, but she let the pain wash over her in silence, as they had all done so often. A moment’s concentration brought her back to the present, and the dangerous operation ahead.
Rayker’s expression had been so devoid of warmth—as though she wore her psychotic nature with pride. Christie couldn’t understand how someone could be so inhuman. She wondered what would happen if Rayker sensed the trap that was closing around her. Christie knew that she, and probably some of the guests, would be taken hostage. No doubt the dozens of Rangers stalking through the darkness would break cover, racing through the night to rescue her, with one particularly hard-headed individual out front. The highly skilled operators now preparing their own move on the chateau would fight their way inside, killing anyone who resisted them. The Banshee, their well-armed gunship, would break its cloak, leaving its position behind Ambrosia’s second moon to rain hellfire down on the small army that provided security for the Helvetic League’s pleasure planet. Rayker would probably die in a hail of gunfire—giving Rose her deserved retribution—for the Valkyrie would eagerly sacrifice their own lives before leaving one of their own behind.
Then the news of the incident would spread, and humanity’s thirty-seven worlds would talk of nothing else but the secret army of super soldiers that protected them from the arsenal of the Jotnar—an ancient and extinct civilization, who’s abandoned weapons and warships littered the stars. Nations, corporations and crime syndicates would find ways to track down those weapons, exploiting their incredible destructive power for their own selfish purposes. There would be war, billions would die, and, like those who had preceded them, humanity would probably wipe itself out.
Rose had died protecting Christie from Rayker’s drone army, but she had also died to uphold Valkyrie’s ancient responsibility.
That operation had ultimately saved the planet Caldera, but in the chaos and confusion of the battle Rayker had managed to slip away. The organization had spent nearly two years trying to hunt her down, but she was too skilled, too deeply enmeshed in the Helvetic League’s underworld.
The council of chiefs, Valkyrie’s inscrutable governing body, had agreed to form Task Force Nemesis under the command of General Smyrna. She was assigned the Mountain Ranger’s Bravo company—the Venomous Vipers—a Raider squadron of elite counter terrorists, and a task unit from Orbital Demolition Team Four. Supported by the Banshee and guided by Christie’s intelligence gathering unit, their mission statement was simple—do whatever it took to kill or capture Allana Rayker.
As they made slow, painstaking process, they began to receive indications that their target had rejoined her old corporate paymasters at VennZech, the most powerful weapons manufacturer in the galaxy. Then, the news broke that Joakkim Meissner, one of Rayker’s suspected allies, had been promoted to Chief Executive, arranging his party on Ambrosia to celebrate.
He had also invited one of the League’s rising stars in physics. The brilliant young doctor Ernst Kolar was a specialist in theoretical energy development. He had recently published a paper describing a theoretical anti-matter reactor alarmingly similar to those that powered the warships and killing machines of the Jotnar. Christie’s team leader, Jiao Zhang, had offered the high-confidence assessment that Rayker would refuse to let such an asset out of her sight. And, on the protected world of Ambrosia, what could she have to fear?
But Valkyrie had been breaking through Helvetic security barriers since the creation of the quasi-imperial state, and had become extremely good at it. And so, the operation had been set in motion.
Christie took a deep breath and prepared herself, soothing away any traces of nervousness. She left the outer hall and re-entered the party.
***
“Olympus, Olympus, Olympus,” a voice intoned through Kayla’s headset.
The code word signaled that Christie had identified Rayker in the chateau, and the operation was a go. A double burst of static followed; a squad-level transmission from Kes. It was the order to take out the security guards.
Kayla and Ray had crawled as close as they could to their position, readied their stun rifle and waited patiently. As the signal came in, the men had pushed away from their boulder rest spot and were resuming their patrol through the woods. Kayla waited until their line of sight had passed her, before she stood slowly, weapon aimed. A faint rustle told her that Ray had done the same.
The guard at the back, still slurping from a water bottle, fell a little further behind. The stun rifle’s projectile hit him in the neck, shocking his nervous system into an overload state. He seized and dropped to the ground, unconscious. The men ahead of him span and there was a mechanical thump from Ray’s weapon. Her shot struck center mass, and another figure collapsed, just as Kayla pulled the trigger again. The last guard went down quickly, but, to Kayla’s shock, seemed to remain conscious. He struggled on the ground like a dying fish as he tried to reach for his radio, so she sprinted forward and kicked him in the head.
Kayla wrinkled her nose and cursed quietly. The scientist who had trained her squad on the weapon had explained that a failed shot would result in the victim emptying the contents of their bowels and bladder. Looks like she had been right.
“Three down,” she muttered into her helmet mic. “No other contacts in sight.”
Even so, she continued to scan the distant trees carefully.
Ray secured the guards with serum injections while Tian and Yak, the other two members of the fire team joined them. The projectiles were gathered into Tian’s rucksack, and, when the rest of the squad arrived, they moved off through the trees together, climbing the slope until they reached another crest, and a chain link fence.
Half a mile away from the chateau, the main security compound provided a base for the guard’s rapid reaction force. The compound had a single entrance and out of the blockhouse blue light flickered to the loud chatter of an excited racing commentator.
Kayla stopped in the shadows of the trees and waited patiently. The air above her head snapped and cracked as rounds shot past, impacting security cameras and sensors around the compound. The bullets were a large caliber, but with a thermic charge core. Each strike glowed brilliantly as intense temperatures melted through their targets, leaving no evidence of what had neutralized them.
She grinned. Thandi was going to work, and though her presence and skill made Kayla feel much more confident, she would still tease her about doing the ‘easy part’ later.
In the near distance, there were a pair of flashes and loud zaps as the base’s generator and backup went out to EMP charges. Another squad from their platoon was working their own approach. That made Kayla nervous. The two elements would soon have to meet up, and nothing could be more dangerous to those who owned the night than confusing each other for the enemy.
She took her team around the base to the now dark main gate as the on-duty guards emerged to check on the loss of power. Stun rifle shots knocked them out, and the squad regrouped behind the cover of a vehicle bay, while Kayla identified the largest building in the compound and watched it attentively.
They waited patiently until the silence was broken by a new voice on the radio.
“Eyes on the barracks, north side. No movement.”
“South side clear,” Kayla confirmed.
“Approaching,” the other squad leader said.
Kayla waited until she saw shapes emerging from the shadows and sprinting behind the back of the large structure. Then, one leaned out from the corner, watching. Kayla tapped a control on her helmet, and a perfect white line broke through her grey world, pointing towards the figure. She was answered with a similar flash of infra-red energy, and her anxiety eased.
Kes, who had also been watching, tapped her shoulder, and Kayla led off towards the barracks.
From outside the Rangers could make out the annoyed calls of men and women stumbling around in the darkness. One emerged from a side door and nearly got off a shout before Tian tackled him and knocked him out. The two squads moved quickly, cracking open doorways and rolling gas grenades inside.
Invisible and odorless, the gas contained the signature compound Valkyrie used to erase memories. The Rangers waited a few minutes, safe behind their face masks, then entered and confirmed that all inside were unconscious. Kes and Thandi smashed a few liquor bottles against the walls, while others dragged the bodies into the main room, and distributed more ‘evidence’.
Eventually, Kes called ‘all clear’, and Kayla emerged from the building into the night, lifting her faceplate to breathe in some fresh air. She saw her fire team, Ray, Tian and Yak, heading to the vehicles to place EMP charges, and began to follow them, when a sharp rap on her helmet brought her up short.
She turned to see Thandi, vizor up, and an expectant expression on her face.
“Was that a curse word I heard earlier?” Thandi asked, keeping her voice low.
Kayla shook her head. “Negative. I was providing a biological assessment of the dude.”
“Ick. Two in the barracks were uh… in the middle of something when they passed out. I had to pull them apart.” She pulled a face. “That was gross.”
Kayla winked at her friend, who was spiritual enough for the both of them. “Unmarried, I bet. Your god approves.”
Thandi nodded gratefully, then shot her a look. “He’s not just my—"
Kes marched over, her expression severe. “Do either of you have EMP charges left?” she demanded.
“Yes Corporal,” Kayla nodded, and patted her rucksack.
“There’s a couple of transports left in the north corner. Get on it, then rejoin us on the east fence. Come on, we need to move quickly!”
Kayla scampered away, buzzing with energy. The squad still had to head for the chateau, and take up their position in the perimeter that was slowly drawing tighter around Rayker. She glanced at the dark mountains around her. In a dozen locations, radar arrays, missile defenses and communications stations were being similarly neutralized by small teams of Valkyrie from the various units. Soon they would have their prey, and Kayla privately hoped that she wouldn’t surrender.
***
Christie found Doctor Kolar, alone as usual, in the main hall and painfully out of place at such a large social gathering. He nursed a champagne glass, and smiled at passersby. Christie stared at him until their eyes met, and he quickly looked away, pretending to study one of Meissner’s diamond statues.
She walked in his direction, and as she passed, she flashed him a shy smile. Then, returning to her coterie of admirers, she looked back with another friendly expression.
Kolar cautiously approached the group, obviously unsure of what to do. The men ignored him, but the second he managed to breach the outer mass of bodies, Christie was on him.
“Oh hello! I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure!” she cried, extending her hand and beaming like a searchlight.
The other men frowned as they lost her attention.
“Um… All mine,” stammered Kolar. “Sorry. I’m—”
“Doctor Kolar, isn’t it?” interrupted a renowned and pompous pianist. “You’re working on space batteries for VennZech weapons research, or some such thing?”
“Well…” Kolar gulped. “We’re starting a new project on micro-singularities at the Planck scale, you see the current theory on weak—”
“It’s weak, you say?” The pianist laughed raucously as he slapped the doctor’s back. “Well, I never would have guessed, old boy.”
“Tell me, Zotty,” Christie cut in, addressing one of the other men, “Didn’t you just tell me this was one of Meissner’s inner circle?” she tottered forward slightly as she spoke.
“Correct,” the elder son and heir apparent of the largest media corporation in the League replied with a smile. He lifted his gaze from her bosom. “Doctor Kolar’s work is vital for the Maestro.”
Kolar smiled gratefully. “Indeed. Well, it’s about energy generation.”
“Oh, I hope you aren’t helping him make more of those dreadful bombs,” Christie said, and pouted. “War is very wrong! Really, I don’t know why they haven’t sanctioned the company for some of the absolutely horrid things they produce.”
The surrounding billionaires nodded their approval, while Kolar flushed. “No… well, I mustn’t talk about it, but I shouldn’t be getting involved in that side of VennZech’s business.”
“Quite right.” Christie nodded. “Oh, but you’re dry.” She turned to a waiter, grabbed a pair of glasses from his tray and handed one to Kolar.
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Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie

Tldr: the title. The long version: The line between enemy soldiers in the field, enemy soldiers on the way to the field, civilians making munitions, and civilians waiting to be conscripted, is way too fuzzy to be considered a "first principles" moral issue. They're all, in one way or another, a threat.
Furthermore, considering the government in a nation state is there to execute the will of the people, even civilians who are completely out of the fighting loop can be seen as responsible for whatever their government is doing (clearly, this responsibility is more direct in the case of democracy, but unless we're talking civilians kept in by force like in North Korea, the civilians are still giving some kind of consent by being part of the country).
Imagine a democracy that sends mercenaries to fight a war of foreign conquest, aren't the civilians more "culpable" than the soldiers themselves?
To be clear, I'm not advocating for death camps or lining up civilians to be shot. But, if a bunch of Ukrainians are taking pot shots from a factory with civilians inside, it should be the Ukrainian soldiers job to protect the civilians, not the Russian army's. In general, I'm not advocating civilian targeting, but I think the "killing cows for food" - good, "torturing a cow" - bad, distinction makes sense here too. As long as you're killing civilians for a better reason than sick enjoyment, it's fair game.
At the very least, hiding soldiers behind civilians in order to create a catch 22 (kill them and be condemned, don't kill them and get shot) is an OP tactic and should be nerfed :D
In my opinion, not killing enemy civilians should be considered along similar lines as not kicking in boxing, a rule both sides can mutually consent to, either in the interest of being sporting (which was probably the historical reason not killing civilians became a thing, no honor to a knight that kills a woman) or to mutually reduce damage (if two kings are fighting over land with a bunch of peasants, no use killing the peasants, they're spoils), but it shouldn't really be seen as a moral issue. If one boxer suddenly starts kicking, the other isn't a morally reprehensible person for kicking too. Similarly, if side A shoots civilians, side B should at least not inconvenience itself too much about not killing side A's civilians.
As a side note (i haven't thought about this too much, and definitely can't back it up, so it's not really part of my cmv), I think most of the wind behind "don't kill civilians during war" comes from privileged people in western European countries who suddenly became very strict about the rules of engagement after they stopped having wars to fight (right after they lost their last colony) and would revert to fire bombing civilians if a real war broke out.
To summarize:

1. Targeting enemy civilians is not a "first principles" moral issue, it's more of a two way contract
2. As such, if the other side is targeting civilians, so can you. In addition, if the other side is playing games, like hiding soldiers behind civilians, you may break the contract (expect the other side to follow suit)

CMV: Civilians are fair game in conflicts between nation states
-edit-
_________________________________
ok, to forgo an endless cycle of "so you're saying it's ok to kill civilians and rape women and children" I'll give a few examples of what I'm saying.

1. Let's say country A and country B are at war. Country A launches 5 nuclear missiles at country B, of which 4 are intercepted, and one kills 100K people. I'm saying that country B should not turn the other cheek, nor should they submit a complaint at the UN and wait, they should launch their own nukes at country A's cities.
   
2. Countries A and B are at war again. Country A stops giving quarter to surrendering soldiers => Country B should also stop giving quarter.
   
3. Countries A and B are at war again. Country A starts surrounding military officers with classes of school children => Country B should blast the officers irregardless.
   

Are the results tragic, clearly. Do I wish there was a world power capable of stopping country A from misbehaving and B from responding, obviously.
Furthermore, am I aware that not all citizens of A condoned the action, yes. In fact, not even all of their soldiers condoned the actions. But countries and armies are not LLCs, your liability is not limited.
I wish there was a better solution. However, I don't think that there is a solution for country B that does not involve them being a martyr, and I don't expect the president of country B to sacrifice their own people in a world where no one is going to step in to help them. Nor do I think they are “wrong” for doing what they need to do to defend themselves. Nor do I think that there are never pragmatic advantages to attacking enemy civilians.
Change My View, tell country B should let country A win for some theoretical construct. Tell me there is a solution that does not involve country B needlessly endangering their own people. Or that they should give enemy civilians higher value than their own

“Well…..frak.”
Those were the only words Corporal James Diogenes could think of to describe his current situation. Behind him, he watched as his comrades turning tail and running away.
“Cowards. Cowards one and all.”
He spit into the dirt towards his former allies then turned towards the other part of his problem.
Xenos. A large army of Xenos, one that was far more disciplined and had far more bodies than command had assumed. He couldn’t remember what they were called or even remember the name of the planet he was on. He couldn’t care for either topic. He wasn’t surprised that the Intel he and his colleagues had been fed was wrong, it often was, but never to this degree. The enemy outnumbered the imperial army forces at least 7 to 1 if not far more. Their tactics were similar to those employed by the imperial army but their population meant they could do more tactical maneuvers, on more fronts, at the same time.
Why the imperial navy didn’t annihilate those armies from orbit, James would never understand. Given his current situation he most likely wouldn’t get a chance to ask. He checked the magazine on his auto-gun, the rifle being rather old by the standards of the current imperial army but its age held up as it punched through most body armor he came across.
“…..Frak.”
He cursed again as he inspected the magazine. Three, maybe four rounds left before he was out? He looked over his shoulder and sighed. The cowards took the ammo with them along with any other supplies they could carry, leaving an empty trench and a few rows of rusty flay-wire.
And James but he chose to stay behind.
A low chuckle escaped him as that thought came to mind. He shook his head as he took his spot in the trench. He wouldn’t win this fight, he was sure of it, but by Terra and in the Emperor’s name he would make them bleed. He would make them hurt.
The few rounds he had in his magazine were gone in no times at all. Four enemies laying in the dust and being trampled by their friends was proof of that. He smiled grimly as he watched his enemies march towards him. They had all bowed their heads slightly, seemingly expecting more shots. That got him laughing. A few bullets and a whole army was shaking before him. He wondered if this is what the primarchs, the emperors daughters, felt like whenever they were on crusade.
He tossed his empty rifle to the side. His smile grew as he held his knife, gripping it tightly as he watched the advancing line of xeno scum. The leather of his glove strained as his hidden knuckles grew white from how tightly he gripped his knife. He considered for a moment what he’d do when the enemy came into the trench. He knew he would fight and die, but he wondered how many of them he’d kill before they took him down.
He reached back behind him, grabbing the Krak grenade he had attached to his belt. He held it tightly and used the middle finger of his knife hand to pull the pin. He held close, holding the striker lever down to ensure it wouldn’t go off until he let go of it. Then he waited.
The world closed in. Darkness tinted the edge of his vision as he watched his enemy march ever closer. Nothing existed save for him and the enemy. He knew what this was. Adrenaline, anticipation, and fear all coming together to activate his fight-or-flight response. He whole body felt charged and he had to stop himself from jumping out of the trench and running…..where? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t guarantee his body wouldn’t turn tail and follow the rest of the imperial army back to the transports.
He adjusted his cap, scratched his bearded cheek and continued to watch. Watch and wait. That was all he could do now. His breathing grew heavy and erratic, his teeth barred, and a low growl escaped him.
The marching stopped.
He stared and waited.
A ploy? A chance to surrender maybe? Were they simply calling in artillery on his position?
That last thought stopped him. Artillery. Would they call artillery or an orbital strike or some other long distance attack on his position?
No. No, no, no, no they wouldn’t escape him that easy.
He scowled and climbed out of the trench, charging the Xenos line with a roar. The knife was raised over his head, holding it in an upside down fashion, as he sprinted towards his enemy. He refused to die to some cowardly artillery strike, he absolutely refused to be turned into a red smear on some backwater planet that no one would ever remember or care about.
The enemy….ran. They ran! He laughed as he chased after them. It didn’t make sense and he didn’t care. He couldn’t care, he was beyond caring.
“Get back here you throne damned bastards! GET THE FRAK BACK HERE!”
He slowed down long enough to toss the Krak grenade, laughing loudly when he saw it go off and take a handful of Xenos down.
The blood….was blood always so beautiful?
He continued running after the enemy before he stopped again. He stopped running cause something had stopped him. He didn’t understand, his legs were still under him, he was still alive, he could still fight!
“Kraking, bastard, filthy xenos, kill you all-“
“Shut up.”
He stopped talking, the voice snapping him out of…..whatever that was. He regained control and realized why he stopped running. Something had picked him up. He stared down at the ground only to realize how high he was above it.
“Hnngh, let go of me.”
He turned towards whatever was holding him only for his eyes to grow wide.
There stood….a woman. A very big woman with metallic dreadlocks poking out of her skull, her armor exposing skin and flesh in the fashion of a gladiator of old. He stared at him with a raised eyebrow and a silent growl as a twitch of pain or anger made her right eye close for a half second.
“Excuse me….heh….corporal.”
She said his rank as if it was an insult, even going as far as spitting on the ground after she said it. She held up by the back of his flak vest like he was little more than a lost puppy. She treated him like he wasn’t worth even talking to and that he was some stupid grunt who was simply in the way.
Space marines raced past both of them, ignoring them in favor of chasing after the retreating Xenos. They….were gonna steal his glory.
“Let me go damn you, the fights over there!”
The woman laughed loudly. Her head held back as her laughter echoed over the battlefield. A part of him thought her laughter was the most horrific and beautiful sound he ever heard, but it was overshadowed by his growing rage.
“You wouldn’t do-hnngghh-do anything to those alien freaks by yourself. Go home boy. Run with the rest of your fri-“
He swiped at her and smiled widely when he saw a small, paper thin cut open up on her cheek. A small trickle of blood dribbled down her skin as her smile disappeared. Her free hand came up and wiped at the cut. She studied the small swipe of blood on her finger. The cut was nothing, it wouldn’t even scar and she had lost far more blood then this in the blood pits. But something about this man taking a swipe at her, daring to cut her, daring to even consider killing or harming her…..
She smiled widely and put the man on her shoulder.
“You. I like you. You’re mine now little man.”
He tried to jump off but she held firm and turned away from the battle. Her sons would handle the fight. He roared on her shoulder and struggled against her grip, his rage growing as he did everything he could to get into the fight and kill. He wanted to, no needed to spill blood. He needed to kill, he needed to make them bleed.
But this goddess in bronze wouldn’t let him. She walked away and set him down in a space marine Rhino. He didn’t know her, he didn’t know why she took him, and he didn’t care. Instead he sighed and hung his head as he lit a iho stick.
“Don’t worry Corporal, there will be more glory to be had.”
He stared at her. His eyes were bloodshot, his body covered in dust and he felt exhausted.
“Hnngh…frakking….throne damn you….”
She smiled widely at that and pulled the trigger on her chainaxe. She then turned towards the driver.
“On second thought, hmm let’s go. I wanna see what you got little corporal.”
He smiled at that and stood up, popping his neck. He exhaustion was forgotten for the time being as the thought of killing those damned Xenos got his blood pumping and made him want to move.
“By the way.”
The giantess spoke as the rear hatch opened, revealing the same battlefield he had just left.
“My name is Atalanta.”
Please note: I’m not a writer and this whole story came to me while I was in a shower and from my lack of artistic skill. Sorry if it’s trash.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77

★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74

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★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87

★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41

★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39

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★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28

★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15

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★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93

★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18

★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83

★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64

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★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41

★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25

★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80

★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96

★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79

⎯

★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11

★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78

★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88

★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79

⎯

★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05

★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24

★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42

★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37

★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66

★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18

★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13

★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26

⎯

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11

⎯

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02

★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44

★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

⎯

★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54

★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81

★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81

★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82

★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46

★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08

⎯

★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48

★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12

⎯

★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26

★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77

★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49

★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51

★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94

★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99

★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96

⎯

★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92

★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03

★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22

★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40

★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46

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★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93

★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43

★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16

★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95

GLOVES

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67

★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33

★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88

★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66

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★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21

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★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00

★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28

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★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32

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★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01

★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66

⎯

★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55

⎯

★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55

WEAPONS

AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95

AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95

M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43

AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38

StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64

P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03

AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00

M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48

AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97

StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96

StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85

Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42

AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Ramese's Reach, Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Apep's Curse, Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Mummy's Rot, Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Black Nile, Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Steel Delta, Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Waters of Nephthys, Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Eye of Horus, Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (ScaraB Rush, Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Sobek's Bite, Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Copper Coated, Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Paris 2023, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.

Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.

Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.

I've been a torb one trick for half of ow2 now. As the game has been going on he slowly has felt less and less impact full to me. As the game continues to speed up and require more consistent damage torb kind of stayed the same and at this moment in season 10 he feels almost useless even if they have a dive comp. Like when is he actually viable? Cassidy is just way stronger against dive characters due to his way more consistent damage and hinder. Junk or literally any other spam character I would consider way better at choke holding due to the mobility most of those heroes offer. Bastion or reaper are way better at tank melting which is another torb thing. Hell even sym seems to have stronger turrets as I just tickle people half the time. But don't get me wrong his turret is decent when u use it properly but tbh it literally dies in 2 shots and doesn't move so it's usually a miracle if it gets any uptime. It just feels like in every scenario other characters are better. I guess he can do it all in a way but not good enough to where it matters it feels like. Don't get me wrong in lower ranks I feel fine with him as the games are a lot more random but when my team mates are top 500's almost every game is Cassidy, souljurn, and tracer and the other team is a lot more coordinated. I can't go and flank torb since if they see my slow big hitbox ass I'm just feeding and even when I sit in the backline I'm not doing anything as I can't apply any aggression for my Frontline but put my self in deaths range against Cassidy or souljurn by just saying hi. Even dive comps destroy him as they're coordinated and they just destroy my turret and focus me first so I can't bully the tank. It feels like I'm just feeding every game by playing him at this point. When am I supposed to play torb then? I've played multiple games with other characters mainly cas and genji or pharah are the ones I think of rn but they just feel light years easier to get value with and I literally don't have to think as much. Characters like genji and pharaoh require a little bit of positioning but when I play people like souljurn Cassidy or soldier I might as well have been drooling out of my mouth. felt like a point and click adventure game with a bunch of pretty colors. I didn't think of positioning as anyone who challenged me was sorry because I can just kill them so quick. No thought about bullets needing to be somewhere as they go where u aim. Ults took a little bit of brain power but that's it.I climbed to almost top 500 recently and was steadily playing masters 4 games for a little but just recently got into a losing streak and am diamond 1. I just can't win anymore and idk if it's me or the character at this point. I'm determined to stay with my little torb but anytime I play literally any hitscan or almost any other character. I feel like I'm just doing "more". My main question here is am I wrong for wanting torb to be stronger along with the other characters? Am I weird for thinking he's one of the weakest characters and when is he actually a better pick compared to everyone else. Please answer my questions and maybe tell me again what to do to bring the most out of torb. I swear I've read all the reddits and watched all the guides on what to do with this character for every map and every character and every scenario but it doesn't feel to even matter. But BINGO!

Reading about Cassie's upgraded ability and being able to keep track on whoever she wishes as well as spending more resources to forcefully keep an eye on someone.
I imagine it spirals out like a spidernet. Giving her immense value on the battlefield especially her ability to see into the future.
If she's able to predict the incoming moves of her enemy. Now imagine as a saint that spreaded throughout the fire keepers.
Essentially (Nephis) army bring safe while Valor paying the price.
Cassie has shown that for the sake of her friend's she's willing to goto extreme lengths. And carry out a plan no matter how long it takes.
The whole plane spanning from the 2ND NM(Chain Isle)
In short. Cass isn't useless anymore.

Greetings, Huntsmen, Huntresses, and gender neutral Hunters! Welcome to another week of writing prompts! If you are new here, this is a community-driven weekly event, and the purpose is primarily to generate creativity and have fun while doing so (whether you are a 100% real-meat person or not, we don't judge).

What will be involved Special Note for Spoilers!:

Each week, three RWBY-related topics will be posted (subject to ties and special events!). Participants can write a short piece of fiction or dialogue based on that prompt. When writing, the suggestion is to aim for 1k-3k words, however, this is not a requirement. There is no goal - this is not a popularity contest - just write and have fun! If you have any questions, feel free to ask! :)
SPOILERS:
Reminder that the spoiler embargo for Volume 9 and the Justice League movie has been lifted! You are all now free to make posts about the two without needing to spoiler tag it.

Rules (gore, NSFW, spoilers etc.)

The rules are the same as the sub's posting guidelines. Nobody here wants to see your story taken down, so please refer to them before contributing! If someone chooses to ignore these rules, the post will be removed.

Additional information

Pre-writing is welcome! /rwbyprompts is a sub with writing as a focus - there you will find an archive of all the threads as well as a somewhat fleshed-out wiki with odds and ends. :) A detailed spreadsheet of WPW things is here! Keep in mind that this houses a lot of the old prompts, but it also has links and things like early participation to previous WPW threads. We're trying this whole week-to-week thing in the face of the bajillion prompts we had built up. We might do something with them, or people might cycle them back in, who knows what could happen??
Find us on Discord at The Qrow's Nest! The permanent invite has been deleted due to Discord bot shenanigans, so dm shand if you want an invite!

The Prompts!:

Surprise! We're doing them all this week - have fun! :D
Team RWBY, plus Zwei, and Team JNPR play pirates. RWBY, except all songs are written by Sabaton. Atlas makes a space elevator near Vale and Vale is not happy with it. All out war resumes and the use of aerial drones are being used. As a joke, Yang sends pretend Valentines between the most random pairings of people she can think of. She’s shocked when all of them end up together. Team RWBY somehow travels back in time and encounters Team STRQ of the past. When Blake left her family to stay with the White Fang, she became the extremist, not Adam. Ozma agrees with Salem's plans to rule both humanity and the Faunus as the new Gods of Remnant, and has no regrets. After forsaking her mortal inheritance, Weiss is now eligible to be a Queen of the Winter Court of Fae, which is returning to Remnant for the first time since the Brother Gods abandoned it. "'s good as new. Maybe even a little better." "While bullets may wear your name, a hand grenade simply says 'to whom it may concern.'" An Atlas experiment accidentally fuses earth and remnant, hyjinks ensue. Free from Cinder, yet lost without a female figure to commit to, Emerald begins her quest for a new sistemothebestie/lover in Vacuo. The one time Port told a completely realistic and believable story. Yang and Blake discover another bonding point after realizing they both like a certain musician. Instead of Crocea Mors, Jaune has the Moonlight/Darkmoon Greatsword from any From Software Games you choose (boss fight included). Weiss and Ruby host a series of events to determine who has the best big sister. Instead of instilling fear into the hears of the people to make Beacon fall, Watts' hack sparked the Great Meme War!
Optional prompts that must be combined with one or more of the above:

Next Week's Poll:

[The Poll! is on vacation this week, see below!]()

Previously, on Writing Prompt Wednesday:

The thread
The Prompts:

• Blake tries to catch a mouse. Cue Tom and Jerry-esque hi-jinx.
• Nora and Ren get into a heated argument and start dividing team RNJR's camp in half with duct tape. Jaune and Ruby have to fix things.
• Glynda takes a day off, and comes back the next day to see Beacon in a state of...
• Jaune and Ruby have a Pokemon battle with NPR and WBY as their Pokemons.

Alternate-Secondary Prompts:

• Blake discovers all of "White Fang" had apparently redeemed themselves via "The Power of Friendship"
• [Insert character] establishes the Revolutionary Insurrectionary Black Army of Argus.
• The heroes react to finally learning what Headmaster Theodore looks like.
• The unfortunate way Yang learned that flammable and inflammable mean the same thing.
• An event from your fanfic/AU described in the style of the Armchair Historian.
• A Hero and Villain go out on a date. What happens during the date?
• A meeting between Signal Academy Instructors Qrow Branwen and Taiyang Xiao Long with Beacon Academy professors Peter Port and Bartholomew Oobleck to discuss Yang and Ruby as potential students at Beacon.
• Blake enters a dating show where Ilia, Sun, and Yang are vying for her affections.
• A comedy skit with the different Grimm as characters with different personalities as they discuss about their life and interactions with the Human/Faunus characters of RWBY.
• Domestic Team WTCH.
• A character mentally rehearses a conversation they imagine having with another character. They quickly blow things way out of proportion.
• Jaune, Salem, and Hazel reenact the scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where the title character is forced to drink the Blood of Kali.

Upcoming Events:

New Year, new events! And now we have the quarter of spring leading into summer and the 4th of July FFA, I hope you all had a great holiday!

Important Stuff and Things!

I have managed to rescue /RWBYFanfiction from an untimely demise! If you would like to share your fanfic or make recommendations, head on over there! I know that I've said something special was coming for this, but Ruby on Rails is hard and not cheap to operate. The fanfiction indexer that I was trying to set up just isn't working and probably needs someone with more experience in RoR programming/design. I haven't completely put it to bed, but it might be a while before I can circle back to it. In the meantime, the fanfic sub has actually had a decent amount of postings - head on over and say hi! :)
No matter how bad things may get, words will always have meaning. Now get out there and write something, but most importantly, have fun! :)

Just a heads up, I'm located in the United States so if something is known to be region locked please be aware as to whether or not your region will allow that game.
-Steam keys left over from Humble-
🐥 -Down on the Farm Bundle- 🐥
The Witch of Fern Island
No Place Like Home
Everdream Valley
🌼 -April 2024- 🌼
Coromon
The Excavation of Hobbs Barlowe
Fashion Police Squad
Victoria 3
🍁 -Choice November 2023?- 🍁
The legend of Tianding
Souldiers
🥂-Steam Keys from Fanatical-🥂
Bot Vice
Ultimate Zombie Defense
Monstrum (×2)
The Secret Order 5: The Buried Kingdom
Double
Paper Beast - Folded Edition
Lost Words: Beyond the Page
Unity of Command: Stalingrad Campaign
Call of Juarez
Alt-Frequencies (×2)
Stick it to The Man! (×2)
Smile For Me
Xp and Rally
Breathedge
Super Panda Adventures
Just Ignore Them
Orbital Bullet – The 360° Rogue-lite
Impulsion (×2)
Midnight Protocol
Stronghold Crusader 2
Terrain of Magical Expertise
Unloved (×2)
Sentience: The Android's Tale
Dog Sled Saga
The Spectrum Retreat (×2)
Super Star Path
Legend of Keepers: Career of a Dungeon Manager
Lumberhill
Banners of Ruin
Agatha Christie - The ABC Murders
A Juggler's Tale
The Town of Light
Porcunipine
Stronghold Legends: Steam Edition
Going Under
OUTBUDDIES DX
Beyond the Long Night (×2)
Crown Champion: Legends of the Arena
Nihilumbra
Danger Scavenger
Survivalist
Graveyard Keeper
Nine Witches: Family Disruption
SEARCH PARTY: Director's Cut
SPOOKWARE
The Horror Of Salazar House
Iconoclasts
Lost Grimoires 3: The Forgotten Well
Paw Paw Paw (×2)
In Between
Silver Chains
Landlord's Super
Wolfenstein 3D (×2)
Crumble
Windward
The Darkside Detective
Fahrenheit: Indigo Prophecy Remastered
Teslagrad Remastered
The Deed II
Lost Grimoires: Stolen Kingdom
Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones (×2)
Garden Story
I Am Fish
Tiny Rogues
Animal Rescuer
Blade Assault
OUT OF THE BOX
The Wild Eight
Zombie Army Trilogy
Everhood
Caveblazers
Slime-san
Achtung! Cthulhu Tactics
Call of Juarez: Bound in Blood
Arcade Spirits
Block'Em!
-Recent adds from Fanatical-
Biped
Garbage
Deep Sky Derelicts
Mech Mechanic Simulator
10 Second Ninja X
What Lies in The Multiverse
Trifox
Samudra
Latte Stand Tycoon +
ManEater
Warman (redeem by 06-30-2024)

First Previous Wiki
Ezeonwha was walking down a long hallway. The dry and plain painted walls and the pure white lighting of the lower levels of the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office helped to frame the dingy realities of those who could only afford these floors. Not even capable of having windows, these were for those who were the cheapest of the cheap or those who mingled with them. He'd passed several Guides on the way in, their claws echoing in the halls as a sign of authority in this lawless land.
Here, mediocrity was king, and he was a loyal servant. He drew his cloak closer about his neck, unwilling to reveal himself to those who weren't already equipped to see through it all. He was famous enough to be an abduction target if he let his guard down. This place was no exception, though Justicar tried to make them such. Too much security on the higher levels and too little on the lower levels. That was the way of things.
Another hallway, this one marked with bullet holes. Two contractors and a Guide were discussing the pricing of the fix project when he turned the corner. Their voices quieted to nothing, the stillness pressing down upon them with the same intensity as the false lighting. Ezeonwha clacked his jaws, giving them a low bow before continuing on his way. He saw the Guide's eyes light up with the sign of his implants getting a reading. It was another impromptu way of tracking via facial recognition, but it was an ancient practice.
Nothing was new about what the Guides did; only how many of them seemed to be on general patrol. Had Justicar hired more of them or actually done full conversions for all of them? Those arm cannons surely weren't cheap or ethical to insert into unwilling participants. And giving a victim a gun they couldn't be disarmed of was a very bad idea, even for Elders. And Justicar was better than most Elders when it came to abject stupidity. He'd likely only been dropped a few hundred times as a child versus the more likely Elder average of a few thousand.
Ezeonwha chuckled at his internal joke, heading deeper underground into the complex. He was going to a certain meeting, and it would be best not to be late. Even if the Guides tracked him, it wouldn't be negative. The group he had been approached by a few days ago wasn't a terror group. He'd looked them up. They dealt in 'freedom and liberation from all chains.'
The Eyes Of Liberty had focused upon Penny as their latest propaganda target and perhaps as a valuable ally in their fight against all tyranny. Though such a flowery message was likely steeped in idealism for the lower ranks, with more pragmatic and likely richer inner circle elites and leaders ensuring the pot would always simmer but never boil or grow cold. That was the way movements such as these managed to skirt the line between inaction and terrorism.
It was a dangerous thing to do. But these were dangerous times. If Penny left, he'd die. Someone with a grudge would kill him. It was a given, and he'd made peace with it now. He needed to get to work, to help others like him and those worse off, with just a small piece of the meager time he had left.
He was in the system as a friend of Penny, so little scrutiny would fall on him as he came and went. He had a new friend, one who was very interested in connecting to Penny.
The offer had come through his communicator, and he'd answered it given its interesting title. After a lengthy discussion about their goals for him and Penny, he'd agreed to at least have a meeting. He didn't tell them that he had a tracker from Phoebe, which would 'be impossible to miss' if things went badly. He knew the value he had, which was why one of the androids was also accompanying him under the guise of being a Sprilnav.
The android was 'walking' on all fours, its mechanical motion entirely silent. It was obscured by a wave of holograms and hard light holograms that would ensure that it wouldn't be considered suspicious beside him. His only guard was a capable one, and Phoebe had all the confidence of an AI who knew that the destruction of her android would only be an inconvenience for her.
Ezeonwha came to an unmarked door with a well-worn door frame. One knock. One pause. Two knocks. Another pause. Four knocks. He waited, and the door swung open. Eight Sprilnav greeted him warily but warmly, their eyes shifting to Phoebe.
The inside of the room was a dull red, coming from a pair of lights in the center of the ceiling that cast dark shadows near the edges. The whole room felt dark and dangerous, and the walls were lined with guns, computers, and several drones. Shelves and drawers were neatly stacked against the wall, as well as five couches and four double beds with ladder access to the top portions.
Bags of food rested atop a trash compactor unit, and the room service button on the inner side of the wall that Ezeonwha could see in the mirror was worn down to the raw metal. No paint jobs here, only grit and business. The room faintly smelled of body odor and assorted foods. Not entirely unpleasant, but also not what he'd expected from a group with sich a flamboyant name. Perhaps they worked in cell-based units. And that was another thing.
Minds were visible in the distance of the mindscape, but the people here were huddled together mentally. They appeared to be haphazard, but Ezeonwha recognized an old army-type defensive formation a mere step from each of their positions. They were more than they appeared. Though based on how their room looked, they probably weren't veterans, just decently trained.
As they walked through the doorway, a scanner activated. One of the Sprilnav, wearing a headset with numbers and letters swirling on the inner side of the visor, called out: "Phoebe android. Commando variant. Risk assessment: Certain Death. Ezeonwha. Carrying two pistols, one hidden in the pack on his left, and the other tucked inside a strap near the lower bottom of his chest."
That made them all pause, sizing each other up. Ezeonwha smiled nervously, failing terribly to break the building tension once again. His nerves started to get to him, but finally, Phoebe spoke. "Well, friends. I, for one, am happy to talk of the business of liberty. Tell us, what do you have in mind for my friend Ezeonwha?"
"It is not about him, AI. It is about the freedom all sentient beings deserve, and which we shall bring to the galaxy no matter if we are alive or dead."
"An honorable goal to strive toward," Phoebe said.
"Thank you. Your words are quite kind for your type."
"I didn't know I had one," Phoebe replied. "But thank you."
Ezeonwha turned his head toward the Sprilnav with all the fancy equipment.
"What is the best way for me and Penny to help in the fight?"
"The best way would be for you to start killing the gang leaders you come across. Barring that, have Penny ignore the graveyards, and continue freeing the slaves as she ought to. The dead have their freedom; the living need her work more."
"I agree with my companion," another of them said. "So far, Penny has done more for the fight for justice than any other on Justicar in generations, so it is a terrible thing to ask more, but we must ask. Even knowing the terrible toll it would have if she loses the Judgment, Sprilnav are at stake."
"People are at stake, you mean," Ezeonwha said. "There is no need to bring species into this."
"There would not be, but it is still a clear factor," another of them said, a female who looked more shifty in her gaze and demeanor. The Eyes of Liberty seemed like one of those groups with too much division.
"Do you disagree with each other often?" Ezeonwha asked innocently.
"Here and there," the tech guy said. "Not often enough to be a problem, and not when what matters is at stake."
"But that is the thing. How can you agree on when something that matters is a stake?"
"Is this a test?"
"Why would it be? Think of it as a genuine concern," Ezeonwha said. "To associate with your group, I have to be certain it will be resilient to change and risks escalating in the future. If the gangs cannot strike at Penny, they will pick the next best targets. Currently, that is me. If I associate with you in a way they can find out, and I assure you they will find out eventually, you all may be at risk as well. And your group's seemingly cell-based design also means large scale mobilization is difficult, ineffective, and risks severe coordination issues which cannot be quickly or safely remedied without changing core security features of it."
"You deduced all of that from context? You are smart, Ezeonwha. And have a good brain in your head. Everlasting knows we need one of those between all of us."
They all shared a laugh.
"I am not as young as I may look," Ezeonwha said. "Penny is not properly learned of the danger that faces us here. I am. The Underground will kill me when this is over. Do you want to die alongside me, all for your beliefs?"
Silence descended again. Ezeonwha kept the pressure on them when one of them stepped forward. "For freedom and liberty? Yes. I would die for that."
"As would I."
"And I."
They all declared the rest in orders that followed the patterns Ezeonwha was noticing. There were variances in their levels of belief and faith in their purpose. Each person had a different level of value difference, which meant that their lives would be worth more or less comparatively.
Cohesion was weaker, too. Not a full defector team, but likely pieces of several. Was that by design from a higher up leader, or was that just circumstance? Another thing to figure out later, that wasn't critical yet, but he would know before he truly went on any missions with them, if he did at all.
He suspected running messages to Penny would be the majority of their tasks. The quality of intelligence the Eyes of Liberty had offered was substantial. Perhaps enough for Penny to turn herself from a major annoyance to the gangs into an actual existential threat. With Justicar's swarming protection of the Fort Court and the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office, there was a limited amount of things that even the gangs could do. And if the rumors were correct, a Progenitor would be partaking in the trial.
"To be clear, if I join up with you, Phoebe would come too."
"Why would we let an AI join us?"
Phoebe smiled. "Without me, you'll die in this fight. You have trained for around 2000 days. You're acceptable combatants, as is Ezeonwha. But you are fighting in a city, and underneath it. You need to know how to keep a low profile. You need to know how to move through a crowd, get in and out. And you need to keep collateral damage to a zero, or the gangs will use you like they have others who had your purpose and were less careful to justify their 'protection' continuing. If you march in there and kill 50 slavers, if you kill a few slaves or a single bystander in the process, your credibility will be smeared. And frankly, with me on your team, you won't get blown up by an IED when you try clearing your first room in a fortress."
"IED?" One of them asked, while the rest digested her statement, going through various levels of offended looks.
"Your translator is too cheap. Improvised explosive device. Here, that can be old engines, reused oil, cracked plastic, frictional fuel bombs, circuit extruders, sodium splash grenades, as well as the more military style attacks they can pack, from small micro rockets all the way up to lower level fission or fusion bombs. Though if you're in a fight with those things involved, you're already dead."
"Why?"
"Because unless you're Elders, or holograms, a nuke will kill you whether you're right next to it or just inside the same shield. They concentrate the thermal pulse, so your bones would be ash before the pain hit your eyes."
"And what protection could you bring against that?"
"Telling you it's there before you start the attack. That is, if you listen to me. I value your lives over that of this android, but also I value Ezeonwha over all of you combined. I will not prevent him from doing this, but I will have you all know the risks involved."
"We are prepared, Phoebe. We have done much of the training you say, though we do not believe the gangs would plant explosive devices in their own fortresses. There is too much risk around that, with betrayals so common. However, the minefields we have scouted are easy to defeat with the right tactics. Perhaps you can give us a briefing on those, too?"
A challenge.
"I can, depending on how long you wish to do this for. But I have the stamina for either hours or weeks, depending on which you choose."
"What of your batteries?"
"They are of sufficient quality," Phoebe assured.
"I hope so."
Their tech guy nodded, more numbers flashing on his visor. Ezeonwha hoped he had a different way of display, like through an implant or something, for the missions in darker areas. The Underground was, by its name, not a place where much natural light was to be found. And the gangs controlled all the power systems in their territory. It was another part of the racket.
"Why aren't you guarding Penny?"
Phoebe's back straightened, a subconscious posture change to make her seem more confident. Ezeonwha caught the tactic for what it was, though without extensive knowledge of bipedal forms, it was less likely the surrounding Sprilnav knew it.
"Penny proved before a trillion eyes she's capable of fighting Elders, Progenitors, and a Dreadnaught Captain. Not to mention her immense power. I can shoot bullets, but she can literally snatch them out of the air and eat them. She has her own way of doing things, and it is a good way."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Penny landed in the rubble and headed for the Vaquah with a trail of survivors behind her. Many of them, she could recognize the marks of slavery on, with numbers or brands on their skin or just the trauma crouching in their eyes dulled by the pain of a long life in a work camp. Penny went through the wreckage to the shield surrounding the rubble and the defining line between the rest of the city and the destruction. Several news drones flew above her.
More were arriving from various directions. The soft footsteps grew into a constant drumming sound, like a beating heart of doom. Penny marched with them, heading to the spaceport. A large medical operation there quickly rerouted many of its various branches to the most injured freed slaves.
Penny pressed her considerable psychic energy on the entire group, accelerating their healing, slowing bleeding, and generally repairing their bodies and cells from the trauma they'd suffered. But the cloud over their heads did not brighten. The atmosphere remained tense and mournful. Many of them had lost friends, family, and more. She had no right to ask them to feel any different.
She had freed them, that was all. They were not her servants. She was not their ruler.
Several of them came up to her, offering thanks in the small ways they could. Kind words. Attempts at hugs. Even offers of devout prayer and worship, which Penny respectfully declined. She knew, as did most of them, that veneration for her deeds was inevitable. She didn't want to be seen encouraging it at all, since this was a public place where many eyes were upon her.
She knew that it would be misconstrued as a threat if she did. Religions were some of the most major threats entrenched powers could face if not properly co-opted by the state to suit their needs. And here, the 'state' was a military dictatorship billions of years old, ripened with corruption, money, and the immortality of Elders sporting technology beyond any other in the galaxy.
The sky was blue with shields overhead. The Vaquah hung in the distance, its thrusters gently burning to keep it aloft. A trail of shuttles linked the massive ship with several spaceports, including this one. Penny watched the freed Sprilnav get on it one by one, promising themselves to a new life aboard her ship. Technically, they were citizens of the Autonomous Peoples' Stars.
That protection, Penny knew, was why the Vaquah and its innocent inhabitants were still intact. Elders already had hired mercenaries to attack it. They'd failed, thanks to Rimiaha and Penny, but also the defenses of Kashaunta's Grand Fleet when it was in higher orbit. Kashaunta, despite her willingness to use Penny as she would, also had a certain intelligence and empathy. It was highly selective, and only money and power seemed to flip that switch.
But Penny needed the Elder, and Kashaunta only had use for her as an asset. She palmed the new communicator Kashaunta had issued her after the last one's destruction. Kashaunta's hologram appeared. It looked around, noticing the news drones in the air.
"Not here."
"Where?"
"You will know."
In the mindscape, a Sprilnav appeared on Penny's layer. They felt odd to her, almost like the minds of certain humans high up in the hivemind's network. Penny greeted the Sprilnav warmly.
"Hello."
"Queen and Elder Kashaunta requests your presence on her flagship."
"Very well."
In reality, Penny looked around at the crowd. She waited until it dwindled to nothing, and then spoke.
"Displace."
Conceptual energy twisted, and she stood on Kashaunta's flagship, though nearer to the edge than she'd expected. The Elder was waiting for her in an outfit that looked much like pajamas, though they were under a few armor pieces that appeared anything but decorative. Now that Penny noticed it, it was the same sort of armor that Yasihaut had worn to their last encounter, which interfered with conceptual energy. The Sprilnav were highly advanced. She wondered just how far their technology could go. She'd heard mentions of some ships having artificial gravity, and of nanites and programmable matter. But nothing certain.
"Hmm," Kashaunta said, giving Penny a once over. "You have come back. Shall I assume you are still my ally?"
"Nervous, are we?"
"Nervous is what you should be, Penny. The Judgment is coming. Ten days. Indrafabar and Justicar will both be on the court as High Judges. That is not good for us at all. So I figured a bit of prudence was in order. I have thought long and hard about this, and with the great battles of our time so fast approaching, I figure it is time to mend our relationship before the chasm grows any wider."
Kashaunta motioned to a special looking sword sheath on her back. Slowly, she drew a sword. A Soul Blade. Penny began to draw up her armor.
"Oh, I am not wishing for a fight, Penny. I know the damage you could do, even in my sanctum in the sky. Tell me, do you know how Soul Blades are forged?"
"No."
"Good. And tell me, do you know why they draw so much power to swing, even for Elders and beings as capable as us?"
"I have a few theories."
"I am sure you do," Kashaunta said. "But here is the thing. Soul Blades are typically weapons assigned to highly promising Elders, or even Progenitors. Filnatra, undisputed sword master that she is, can wield them as easily as breathing. If I were to swing this blade, there would be no drawback. Why?"
"Because you own that Soul Blade."
"Because this Soul Blade is mine. It is not just something I own. I own around seven or so more Soul Blades, with some weapons nearing their quality lying in my various vaults even now. You did not detect them, because I willed that not to be. I need you to understand this, Penny. You have power. You have might. But you are not invincible. My Soul Blade, if it struck you, would not cutely separate Nilnacrawla or Cardinality from you. Nor would your speeding space entity be able to block this blade with his flesh. If this cut you, it would release unending agony upon you before you exploded in a burst of burnt gore."
Penny sighed. "There is no need to threaten me. Allies do not threaten each other."
"But you do not see me as an ally. You see me as your means to get through the Judgment. You believe I see you as nothing more but a linear singularity maker, and perhaps a passing curiosity I'm backing on a whim. You neglect to imagine that there might be firmer reasons why I back you, and why more Elders are getting drawn into this conflict. You believe I am comfortable with showing you my more pragmatic and ruthless sides because I am comfortable with the fact that you cannot harm me. That you would not dare to do so, when you need my assistance so badly. That I might even be aiming to normalize my 'new' self with you."
"That is hardly my belief alone."
"Is it now."
Kashaunta grinned. There was no warmth in her gaze.
"Nilnacrawla," Kashaunta said. "Cardinality. Exile. Come out and show yourselves. You are being rude as guests."
Exile detached from Penny's head. He grew into the shifting array of fractals and shapes she was more familiar with. What had once grated on her eyes did so no longer. Kashaunta stared at the speeding space entity for ten seconds, then looked back up at Penny.
"He will not work on us. I will cover his form with holograms if he walks through my ship out of courtesy for my workers and crew, if he cannot."
"I am capable, Queen Kashaunta."
"You are quite knowledgable, aren't you?" Kashaunta mused, looking at him hungrily. "Oh, how I wonder what secrets you have in your head. How many of ours do you know?"
"I will not be taken as a hostage," Exile said.
"You will not because I decide not to," Kashaunta said. "Formally, our species are still at war. There is no treaty."
"The Sp'rkial'nova no longer exist."
"Yes, they do," Kashaunta said. "The name was discontinued for use regarding the lesser specimens we created. But I can assure you, Exile, if you wish to go by that name here, that we still do exist. I am a Sp'rkial'nova in the flesh. In the blood. In the mind. In the soul."
"Say what you will, Sprilnav. It changes nothing."
"On that I agree. Though our views on how things are may differ, and yours is wrong, your opinion is not valuable enough to matter."
She turned to Penny. She would have defended Exile, but he gave her a simple shake of his head area.
Nilnacrawla formed out of psychic energy in front of Penny. Cardi did the same beside her. Kashaunta tapped a claw on the ground. Tables and chairs appeared. A chef brought in food that looked passable and a few decent attempts at human cuisine.
"We do not have to eat, though I would expect that all of you at least sit at the table. We will discuss our grievances, and how to solve them before we proceed with the future. We shall first go to the matter of the Alliance. Penny, many in their number wish to establish contact with you. Do you agree to this? If so, I will add their communicator numbers to the translation program I have reserved for your personal use, in case your own device needs another sudden replacement."
"I agree."
"Good. A first step of diplomacy, I would say. Agreement. Now, Nilnacrawla, you look like you have something to say to me. What is it?"
"Free Meridia."
"Meridia was detonated by planet cracker during the 139th Sector 9 Border War. I am sorry more could not be done."
A cold draft of air rushed out of Nilnacrawla's nose. He glared at her. "You let them die."
"I did not. A Grand Fleet was defending that star system, and three came to lay siege. I am many things. A tactician, a queen, an Elder. But I am not a god. I cannot perform miracles. I evacuated 30 billion people from that world and its surrounding stations before the planet crackers hit it. 4 trillion more souls died in that blast. The best I can do is to offer an apology."
"That will never be enough for what you did. If you had never established your nation, they would still be alive."
"They would be slaves. Chattel slaves, not that cute little 'wage slavery' concept privileged people throw around. Perhaps I should remind you just how much darker that reality would have been for your female descendents, specifically. I am a brutal warlord, a dictator with an iron fist. But my claws do not squeeze nearly as tightly as I could. Metrics say that I could extract at least 370% more profit from my people if I simply enslaved them. But despite the shock this may bring to you all, I do have principles. The Autonomous Peoples' Stars are my people. My nation. My empire, if you think I'm imperialist. But I protect them as best I can."
Nilnacrawla's cold anger didn't lessen. Penny placed a calming hand on his front left thigh. He blinked. He let out a long, pained sigh. And he bowed his head to her. Not to Kashaunta, but to Penny.
"There is no need to be cruel."
"My language was accurate, Penny. He is a strong Elder. Everlasting knows he's stronger than most of these fools. Nilnacrawla was and is a hero of the Source war. I respect him enough not to mince words, or to give platitudes. Coddling is for babies. Nilnacrawla is far more mature."
Kashaunta turned to Cardi. "You have been remarkably silent in this, concept."
"I have."
"A wonderfully succinct statement. Perhaps you can shorten it further. But nevertheless, you and I will be working together with Penny much more in the near future. Rest assured, if you refuse to become more independent, you will be nothing more than a crutch for her to rely on before leaving her to fall when you are ripped away."
"When, Elder? I would like to think your protection is sufficient."
"I am sure the truth is quite the opposite, dear. I will now get to the point. Penny needs to move faster, and needs to break out of her shell. She needs to be pushed to do more. She has signed a binding treaty, which shows she is capable of more than barbarian aliens, as some Elders would call her. You, Cardinality, will help her be a high achiever. To do this, you need to learn more about your own history.
That is the theme of the year, after all. History. My history, Penny's history, Sprilnav history, and even Gaia's history, it would seem."
"Gaia? What do they have to do with all of this?" Penny asked.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that."
"Excuse me? You don't get to decide that, Kashaunta. You will tell me. I refuse to be coddled, like you say. I demand the respect I am owed."
"You forget yourself, Penny."
"I remember myself, actually. I am all I need to be. I can become all I need if I must. You can hold your backing against me all you want, but you won't withdraw it. As you said, more binds you and I than mere money and ideology."
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then I've doomed my species and my nation to war, and this planet to the full power of my wrath."
"Wrath, Penny. Wrath. The Sprilnav have many words for anger, rage, hatred. There is the desire for vengeance, in varying degrees. There is that for justice, which does differ. And that for belonging. I know you believe you are standing up to me as a way to assert your own authority in this relationship of ours. You believe I see you as inferior, and will pull back my help when it is profitable for me. I will not offer you the consequences of what your words could mean.
You already know them, and that argument is as stale as your view on us Elders. I will say this once, Penny. You are the Champion of Humanity. The apex predator of your planet, the only one mostly in charge of an Alliance that does more than merely dream of overthrowing us. It is easy for me to say you are not a threat, though I do not ignore the threat you and your nation are trying to become. Gaia will be a part of your movement, but even my information is not entirely complete. I will not mislead you by claiming I know Gaia's link to this, just that there likely is one.
And I am not unreasonably petty. I am willing to put all our animosity behind us and start anew. Even if you are not willing to do the same, I am willing to make this work for us. You have more people to care for than just the Alliance, now. Do not forget them."
"A lot of words that mean nothing."
"Because you heard, but did not listen. Perhaps it will be easier this way, Penny. I want you to win."
"Explain."
"You wish to overthrow the current Sprilnav led order of the galaxy. Your path to that will likely be through mass slave revolt. A viable strategy that I could spread far beyond just this planet. And I actually agree with you. This Judgment, this utter insanity around the Alliance and your species has shown me the truth. The Elders as a class and a species cannot be trusted to rule any longer. We need new leaders. Better leaders."
"And yourself?"
"As the hypocrite that I am, and the power-hungry ruler of the Sprilnav, I would obviously exclude myself from that number. Let's be realistic. The Sprilnav will never accept a non-Elder ruler. If you wish to see what our insurgencies would be like, imagine the 2090s Struggles of Asia. Expand that to billions of planets, large and small. Countless ships and space stations. We have more collective ships than you have people. And as your military planners know, there is no such thing as an unarmed ship. Without us, without me, your plans are stillborn. Your galactic Alliance or whatever you make will fall to pieces without proper counseling. In essence, my offer to you, and you alone, is this. The galaxy, for the Sprilnav."
"Who backs your offer, with the power to give it?"
Progenitors Lecalicus and Nova appeared in the room.
"I back Kashaunta," Lecalicus wheezed.
"I observe her offer, and wish it a proper outcome," Nova said.
"Thank you, esteemed Progenitors," Kashaunta said, standing just to bow to them. Penny stared at Nova, balling her fists.
"There will be time for battle later," he said. "But not now. Hear out her request. She does not make it lightly."
The Progenitors disappeared.
"If I accept your offer, it will be on a written record."
"No. It will not be, because if that record is written, my nation will be facing war on all sides. A better idea would be for us to keep this under wraps."
"Perfect for betrayal," Nilnacrawla muttered.
"It would be, yes. But consider the second part of this situation, Nilncrawla. If word of this galactic offer, not just the Pact, were to get out, which is why two Progenitors who know the price of interference were called here, it would mean the deaths of Penny and all her kind. Or do you forget what rapidly approaches us?"
Nilnacrawla frowned. "I did. I apologize, Penny."
Kashaunta spoke up again.
"Penny. You believe I will betray you. So I make an offer of collateral. An offer so unbelievably sacred for us Elders that many would recoil at the mere thought of it. Now that you have signed a backed treaty, you are fully qualified."
Kashaunta grabbed her Soul Blade and presented it to Penny.
"What does this mean?"
"Nilnacrawla, tell her," Kashaunta said. "She will trust your mouth more than mine."
"Bonded Soul Blades are priceless artifacts," Nilnacrawla said. "To offer one to another is the ultimate gesture of trust and respect among many martial Sprilnav cultures. It can also allow for a mind bridge, a soul pact, or a proposal for marriage between two great houses, martial families, or Elders of great wealth and power. To offer this to a human... to anyone... is an ultimate sign of backing, and one of trust.
It is a sacrosanct honor, the absolute agreement of speaking truth and respect. The words I can use in any human language are insufficient to describe the weight of this honor. This gesture is one of absolute truth. Family lines with hatred going back millions of years would never dare to violate this honor."
"Only one Elder in history did so, one who once led a group known as the Stannic Resistance. He does so no longer. Penny Balica, Champion of Humanity... if there is nothing else I can give you to prove that I do really back you, there is this."
"...Just how low are my chances in the Judgment for you to resort to this?" Penny asked.
"They are not zero, but your battle with be incredibly difficult even with this boon of mine. The future of the galaxy, I now realize, hinges on the outcome of this. If we do not have enough trust, they will sniff it out, and we will fail."
So she had no choice. But as Nilncrawla continued to explain in her mind, Kashaunta was getting the worse side of the deal. Which meant she was throwing her backing behind Penny for real, beyond all reproach and retraction. Kashaunta, the most powerful Elder in the galaxy.
"And if I reject this gift, or your reasons for it?"
"Circumstances would demand that I kill you and then myself using this blade as a way to cut apart the dishonor, before my remains are dumped into a black hole to be forgotten forever. I would not do this."
"A dark and archaic custom," Penny said. She would have said more, but she looked at Nilnacrawla's face. He was clearly deeply uncomfortable. Her five words had shaken him more than anything she'd ever said to him before.
"You do not understand," Nilnacrawla said. "This is not something to joke or lie about. With a Soul Blade Pact in play, all else must cease. Right now, there is you, and there is her. Accept or decline. The choice, your only choice, is yours."
"How will this look to the Elders in the court? To the Sprilnav, and the people who back me?"
She could see how it would be a boon and a curse.
"You, and I," Kashaunta said. "The whole of the universe between us right now is you and I. No others exist until this one act is done. There will be trust or there will be death. No in between. No middle ground. The nature of this bond will be a Pact of Blades."
Conceptual energy swirled between them. Penny's natural translation, as part of the hivemind, failed for the first time ever. Her communicator likewise did not translate the words Kashaunta spoke.
"Eis nama kaste Penny Balica, sun lanci Dorima Kashaunta. Ko'ri, lanci nupa bes na Dorima'Pecunyanova. Sp'rkial'nova. Sun. Homo Sapiens."
The air grew thick with tension. It was not just emotional, either. Psychic and conceptual energy gathered. The mindscape started to distort as more and more eyes began to view Kashaunta and Penny. But all of them were Sprilnav eyes. All of them were Progenitors. Nova's appeared brightest and largest, nearly six times the size of the next largest pair. They stared at her, sending psychic and conceptual energy down upon her in waves that forced her and Kashaunta to kneel to the ground.
"I apologize for my earlier words," Penny said. "I should not have denigrated this."
Penny stood for an hour, deeply contemplating the Pact. If it was as Nilnacrawla was describing to her, it was a promise that Kashaunta would not break. If she was offering it at all, especially to Penny, it meant she had a level of trust in Penny's capability far above what Penny had previously thought. Apparently, there were even higher agreements than this that were possible, with this Pact being the lowest level of bond and considered unbreakable with the enforcement of consequences coming from the Progenitors themselves.
She thought of her place in Justicar and the wider universe. Hours passed like water. And then, by the end of it, after nearly 19 hours, Penny finally had decided. She gave a short nod to Kashaunta, who had been kneeling to Nova all this time.
Kashaunta gestured at the sword. "Tol, nopa shikai."
Nilnacrawla fed her a few suggestions on what she would need to say.
"I come to this Pact seeking peace, justice, and hope," Penny said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery."
Nilnacrawla translated Kashaunta's next words to her.
"I come to this seeking trust, understanding, respect, and peace," Kashaunta said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery. I make this Pact before the gods, those who equal them, and those who surpass them. I bind them to an oath of silence regarding this event, until I directly instruct them otherwise, in a state of a sound mind, body, and soul. Here, we shall step into a future that needs both of us, casting aside that which is unimportant to focus on the ultimate goals we have. I offer my Blade to Penny Balica, of species Homo Sapiens. In this way, we forge a new future, and walk a new path. I accept the Pact."
"I accept the Pact."
Nova and a hundred Progenitors descended. Nova grew larger, and Kashaunta knelt to him. Penny remained standing. His sharp teeth glittered in the light. He pressed his claws to Penny's chest, and to Kashaunta's chest.
"The Pact of Blades is made before the Progenitors. We agree to your vow of silence. The penalty of breaking it will be dismemberment and disposal into a black hole. Penny Balica, Engineer Kashaunta. To break this Pact without mutual agreement is to call down our collective wrath upon yourselves. You both have agreed, and are of sound mind, body, and soul. The Pact is forged. By sword, by word, by action. I, Nova, Everlasting, Lord of the Progenitors, King of all Sp'rkial'nova, Heir to the Mantle of Power, Heir to Narvravarana, Progenitor, Elder, and Sprilnav, declare the deed done, etched in time, space, and Reality."
They winked out of existence one by one, leaving Penny and Kashaunta alone, to ponder the future. Penny's thoughts turned to the Judgment, and her confidence she could win it began to waver. How much worse was this Judgment going to be than before?
Penny stared at Kashaunta's Soul Blade. With careful fingers, she took it. Kashaunta sat up, satisfied.
"Now we can begin. I shall compile all the news about you I can find, and we shall see how to address the questions the High Judges will ask. Now that you trust me, I cannot betray you."

Ethernet has landline 1900s phones two pairs wires reserved in the spec sheet its 8 or so wires when crimping the ends uses like two with one for ground and one seemingly empty and then has two for phone and some unused, with old 10/100 baseT coax with terminating ends exactly like optical or coax 90s cable TV with optical fiber 99% of the way just your block has coax to the rest which uses the 'same'DOCSIS data over cable standards as fibre optic.. just slightly worse latency and bandwidth is calculated by latency things like wifi lan has like 11 channels or 15 channels of frequency which optical calls wavelengths of light. A 2015 or around there linus tech tips video of him going to a swedish lan party called dreamhack had a bunch of multiple redundant 8Terabit or was it bytes of fibre optic internet they explained with light having 7 colors but having 8terabytes of bandwidth with different wavelengths of light called frequencys or a better term for optics is known as LASER ARRAYS of light at fixed frequencys that often plugs into the PC via ethernet cables or whatever for a gamer lan party or home/residential or small businesses at realistically within budget of anything with enough users to require that bandwidth or 'web hosting or web servers' you dont need to be an undersea cable or international link with 200terabits plus for an internet exchange to your main CBD or the fastest like the netherlands IX...
So the problem im trying to solve is, here in australia we got our undersea cables done wrong they kept breaking and we didnt have a navy or defense force securing our countrys communications to prevent war crimes and keep us connected to the global banking systems or whatever.. and then when our biggest telcos cable or fibre all had dialup speeds for around 2 weeks in the early years 2000s to force us to pay other countrys to connect to their links and be ' end of the line' maybe paywalled or proxied off the internet randsomewared to connect to and borrow bandwidth from other countries satellites and other countries undersea link cables which truly were indestructible to any cruise liner ships anchors whatever being flexible giant steel braided cables big as a CAR when australia finally paid to lay small sections of that stuff to link up to others and not pay randsome to internet butt bandits or have private businesses and multi nationals run their own links and ignore the public our lack of a defense force actually let somalian pirates literally somehow pick up and walk off with our expensive undersea car sized cables filled with a few arms thick of hair thin fibre optics which is cheapest clear resin enamels plastics about $3 not sure if USD per kilometer and resembles modern glass/glazing. How does anybody steal that stuff without people noticing like you cant just load it onto a truck and drive away? or a boat? if only satellites and some sort of defense organization existed to prevent us from being impersonated or whatever.. So now in australia ANYTHING with words like gigabit costs a fortune for a mainboard or switch or ethernet hub.. but the ancient 1900s 10/100 telephone land line wires of ethernet 10/100 clock in at a whopping 13 or so mhz sometimes 27.. and 60 or more mhz for like gigabits and whatever it increases shockingly fast with each mhz clock cycle as its units of work over time in nano seconds or zeptoseconds you see billionths of a second nano second RAM and PC with windows realtime kernel actually uses like ryzen hardware negative latency faster than reality freely syncing with any device in the universe and fixed mhz frequency bus can drive like 50 to 100 or thousands of GPU's and HDDs and monitors or whatever from the one modern multicore PC or whatever.. 90s AMD business server still holds world records for most connected devices though it had stackable CPUs opteron and would have used infinity cache type stuff probably software 3dnow and evolving game worlds tech of 80s and 90s AMD gaming evolved advertising.
So in australia anything gigabits costs hundreds of dollars for a switch router some thousands for lots of ports.. but its the shittiest weakest bandwidth ever with mhz and performance miles short of a raspberry pie or whatever. I had to pay a fortune for a mainboard with 10gigabit LAN port and everytime i got a high speed LAN port its been broken or missing so some pricks can sell ebay routers or switches for thousands here.. not knowing why its so expensive is youre paying fortunes for any real bandwidth because australia has to pay literal somalian pirates for their internet connections or privately owned businesses like telstra for access to their private links and glares at countries like new zealand and hawaii for being super technologically superior.. a cheap USB ethernet adaptor costs under 10 bucks on ebay or whatever and is maybe gigabit and your switches and routers 90% of the time you want the cheapest UNMANAGED switch possible. Yet the mainboard i recently purchased ASUS pro art creator x670E i recall had an issue with some asshats trying to steal pathetic measly 40gigabit USB4 chips from all the boards at the computer store to sell on EBay as other junk, when anything in the universe with an M.2 ULTRA slot does 40gigabits since PCI express 3.0/4.0 as PCI express 3.0 SSD drives famously use a specific I/O controller chip which gives them 38gigabits 550MEGABYTES PER SECOND for just about every SSD in the universe minimum constant fixed performance clock frequency of operation no moving parts all day everyday always 550megabytes per second. 550MB of the ultra M.2 slots 40gigabits of bandwidth in that one slot each PCI express lane or channel has a total of.. well google it yourself for an AMD pciexpress board x270 x470 or x570 board or a threadripper gen 1 or ryzen gen 1 board and its 120 pci express lanes controller or whatever. But for a couple years when AMD had pci express 4.0 and better than M.2 ultra intel was playing catch up on PCI express 3.0 and still had regular m.2 in all their boards until AMD was ready for pci express 5.0 my friend on intel bought the same NVME drives and complained they had corruption errors or issues i later learned his board wasnt fast enough and he was maybe trying to use the samsung magician RAM disk and enable NVME features and functions intel maybe did not yet support.
So.. why is USB 4 so many years late and why is it so dang expensive when terabits of ethernet or anything optical is like the cheapest stuff ever and comes with every internet connection since the 90s at the lowest cheapest mhz and 1900s land line wire telephones ever, remember digital isnt a physical thing and everythings literally analog with a sensor or multimeter whatever mathematically translating it to a graph or algebra equation mapping it into different values digitally +10 -10 whatever using microphones or camera sensor whatever. the gigabits tax and uhh LAN port taxes for dumb gay australians being literally see it via satellite outerspace levels dumb and gay astrogaylian should not apply to the cheapest of raspberry pie free 3d print or laser CNC yourself something computery like risc V for the cheapest of USB flash drives or memory cards etc.
I get intel pretends to have invented court ordered USB to probe their hardware after it was proven to have used other peoples code and chips by the chip makers and them selling computers with keyboard and mouse hardwired in so you bought a whole new computer when a key broke on the keyboard couldnt replace them.. and every other device had USB but theirs didnt free open standard and it kinda being the only way to connect any device in the universe and freely sync with it (mics/phones whatever).
why is 1900s phone tech ethernet so dang expensive to go from 20mhz ranges to 80 or whatever mhz ranges or use something very similar to 90s optical audio SPDIF output or anything remotely like a laser in australia? and who would be dumb and gay enough to be so financially retarded as to think that USB 4 was expensive or special as to steal it? am i... missing something?
also before you complain, but ethernets not the same as USB you cant power over ethernet or use your houses electrical wires as ethernet. You also cant use ethernet for monitors or displays, and its not like you can extend HDMI range limit of a about 10 to 15 meters by swapping its ethernet wires with optical ones for it to maintain its HDMI 0 latency spec or type C USB 0 latency spec. USB lets you connect heaps of devices you cant do that with an internet or ethernet for things like keyboard and mice or monitors or whatever. I understand what you mean power over ethernet or PPOE standards suck theres no way those are a thing. using devices over the internet and not the intranet who does that? thats so dumb. remote administration, theres no such thing youre mistaking malware or rootkits im sure. you cant connect a heap of devices up or entire computers to a ethernet port thats the dumbest gayest thing i've ever heard in my entire life! My gaydar is going off and it looks like the wifi symbol.
when trying to use anything ethernet with lame awful bandwidth thats limited, on my AMD board where the website images show AMD ethernet lists as marvel yukon controller i cannot use as its maybe broken there no light on the back, in devices managers advanced tab you can see the send receive or transmit buffer sizes and countless other ethernet settings are MISSING or a blank space. and are limited to 128 on send and 256 on receive up to 4096 or whatever max. But low latency 128 or 256 is maybe best but not all are an option and most networking features on the intel LAN adapters are missing countless advanced ethernet properties and settings because they're fake and lousy and the worst latency ever and they literally seem to swap your windows kernel out with something not realtime so you cannot ever hope to record or playback audio or video or anything close to a video game in hopes of slowly selling it back to you. Linux distros did this too its the dumbest thing ever that to hear or record or playback or play games you must patch in a realtime kernel for free to game like its the 80s and 90s or DOS or whatever. most 90s PCs were CAS 1 or lower nanoseconds. DDR 3 1600mhz depending the maker might be CAS1-4 latency. How can we verify our kernels are correct? and our ethernet and I/O bandwidth is correct? the youtube video about linus tech tips dream hack lan party of gamers in sweden was edited and reuploaded by illiterate asshat buttpirates maybe from somalia or the ones randsoming us some of their internet connections as a proxy piggy back on the international links as we dont have a defense force or army or whatever and dont know what war crimes are or why they are or what the heck a bank is and sure as shit dont know the cost of anything cheap USB or LAN. The dreamhack linus video falsely shows as 6TERABIT. they wanna steal 2TERABITS of EVERY optical or ethernet devices which isnt the government doing it if they wanna see whats in your computer they can document their reasons of why which is what a warrant is they dont need one if they believe a crime is occuring and literally take the computer by law to inspect it then give it back when nothings wrong they leave you a claim ticket and have you document it at the nearest policing station or whatever fill out forms sign 'they are taking my PC and i can get it back when it wasnt used for crimes." when australia doesnt technically have an internet and doesnt technically have RAID arrays which is required to use USB or SSD or NVME or storage tech with no moving parts and multicore a 2TB SSD is twice as fast and often has 2x 1TB wafer chips in there figure it out the IO controller chip supports many and you can buy the cheapest USB sticks with like 16terabytes of storage space i just see a $extend folder or uhh file format header thingy in the partition in my mainboard bios on that particular drive and using any cheap SSD or USB devices makes linux cry about the partition managers cant write or read extending past the storage limit. it doesnt take a genius to figure out what dumb gay fags the whole internet is.
infinitybitdepthinfinitygraphicsinfinitypixelsinfinityresolution.7z ~ pixeldrain

Hello everyone. I’m a 21 year old Male seeking any and all advice on how to keep my health a secret from the United States Government.
I want to join the U.S. Air Force. I have since I was 6. I have been an Army brat my whole life and I got an 84 on the ASVAB & was on the right path to do that and I suddenly was bitten by a tick. It turned my life upside down. The amount of fatigue and joint pain I feel on a daily basis is borderline crippling but I still want to serve my country. I genuinely wouldn’t be happier doing anything else but I legitimately cannot run because of my pain. I can endure it but not for long. I want to go to the doctor but I don’t want the Air Force to get their hands on the records because it would almost certainly permanently disqualify me.
Please keep in mind that when you join the U.S. Military, you have to sign over any and all medical documents which will confirm or deny any information you’ve given your recruiter, hence me not reporting joint pain would most likely come up in a medical document review especially with the U.S. Government’s new Genesis system which is designed to scour almost every health providers system for your name or other individual markers like your SSN or your birthdate etc.
Getting this procedure done in the proper channels will likely end up with me getting caught in the long run. On the other hand not getting seen by a doctor is genuinely painful and won’t allow me enough time to train my legs after an extensive physical therapy period. A constant above moderate 7 pain in both legs. As it stands now, I certainly couldn’t run 26 minutes without serious physical repercussions (yes you run that far in Air Force Basic Military Training at Joint Base San Antonio Lackland Air Force Base to train for the 1.5 mile run which is 60% of yo overall PT Score.)
This illness has seriously affected my quality of life. I want nothing more than to find a cure or any kind of relief so I can be the man I always wanted to be: A U.S. Airman.
Im under the impression I need an MRI to scan the tissues on my leg as the pain is centralized mostly around the lower part of my thigh right above my knee. I believe most people refer to it as quadriceps tendonitis but I’m no doctor. That’s just what I’ve been able to gather from the internet over the last 3 years. At home treatments for Quadriceps Tendonitis have yield no results in minimizing my pain. I need help but I don’t want it to affect my future. I wouldn’t be happy in another career field. I genuinely don’t know what I’d do if I had to be a civilian. No disrespect to civilians of course.
Please help me. Anything. If you can suggest a doctor anywhere in the Texas, Louisiana, Oklahoma Arkansas area that would do an MRI off the books for some extra cash please let me know or if there’s some way I can lie about my name and not go to jail that’s be awesome too.
I can’t begin to tell you how much it would mean to me if I was to get any kind of relief and fulfill my dream. Yes, before anyone gets all uppity about it I’m aware that lying to the federal government is a crime however plenty of patriots join every year despite the risk. Please afford me the opportunity to do the same. Aim High.
TL;DR: I need to get an MRI done as soon as possible to get my joints looked at and take any preventative measures possible to reverse or stop and degeneration I have as well as combat any tick-borne illnesses without it being on my permanent medical record. Please help me. Thank you in advance for your replies 🇺🇸
Edit: I’m not particularly sure why so many of us think I’m lying, Making something up, or “Karma-farming” whatever that is? This is a new “throwaway” because I really don’t want to be associated with having possibly done something illegal? I have significantly better things to do than whine on the internet for no reason? I simply and sincerely just want help guys. If you don’t have any or don’t want to give me any, that’s fine but please do move along. I really am just looking for relief. Thank you for understanding.
Edit 2: This has been an enlightening experience here on Reddit. I’ve gotten some pretty hateful comments on my current mental state and even more derogatory PM’s but I’ve also gotten some very helpful insight as to what I can do. I found out I might have Lyme and out of country treatment might be a viable option to keep records from getting into the wrong hands. To keep things as productive and less toxic though, I unfortunately will delete this post at 0900 CST Wednesday morning. I appreciate everyone who had something of actual value to add to my problem. To everyone else, get a life Chief I’m just trying to get some help on a subreddit. It isn’t that deep. Take a bath.

O.J. Simpson is gone-dead from cancer earlier this year. Rewind back to the 90's. O.J, or not O.J. depending on who you ask, stabbed his ex-wife and her boyfriend to death in Los Angeles. The whole country was subsequently held hostage with round the clock O.J. coverage in the wake of the murders*. Its all anyone talked about and there was no way to escape it. There weren't thousands of channels to flick to, or dozens of streaming services available to seek refuge-in far away from the insanity.
However, after his acquittal he seemed to simply fade from public view-absorbed back into the stained fabric of American society. That was of course before he was locked up for nine years in 2008 for attempting to rob his own memorabilia at gunpoint. So what was he doing with his freedom in the years prior?
Nothing. Well, almost nothing. In 2006, executive producer Rick Mahr, famous for the highly-cerebral Backyard Wrestling series, decided it would be a good idea to tap into the reality show boom with an MTV Punk'd themed prank show featuring O.J. Simpson.
It was a one-hour special that featured O.J. himself engaging in a series of pranks ranging from dressing in rags while selling oranges on the side of a highway, to him serving and insulting fat customers in a fast-food drive thru. At the end of the gig, he'd come clean and tell the victim with a smile "you just got Juiced!" Most of the pranks fell flat on their face: people sometimes didn't recognize O.J. or didn't understand the prank, or the whole idea was just too damn stupid.
But the icing on the cake was the skit where O.J. attempted to sell a replica of his white Ford Bronco, which incidentally was discontinued for years after the murders (but that's another story, you can see below for a few more details). The Bronco even sported a real bullet hole, which The Juice himself signed right above it.
O.J. seems to reflect on the whole Bronco chase as simply comical. Is this some dark type of new-age therapy? "It has great escapability!" he keeps informing customers. Does he admit that there was a dead body in the car? Was it him who placed it there? I have never heard O.J speak so candidly about details from the aftermath of the murders.
Here are some exchanges between O.J. and potential 'customers' as reported in the NPR This American Life episode 564-Too Soon?:

Man: Is there $10,000 in here?
O.J: Nope, Nope. No $10,000,
Man: ...You were carrying it, you know?
O.J: Naw, naw. They say that, I was carrying about $3.
Man: $3?
O.J: Yeah, that's why they never brought it up in court.

In another exchange:

O.J: It was good for me.
Man: Yeah?
O.J: Got me out of harm's way.
Man: ...Ok, I'll sit in it...there was a dead body in there.
O.J: Yeah. Well, um, hopefully there's no bodies in this thing. And I can guarantee you, the car has escape-ability. I mean, if you're ever getting into some trouble, and you've got to get away, it has escape-ability.
Man: (Laughing)

He'd be locked up soon after this aired. Apparently only about 100 DVDs ever sold, and there are no other details about the profits made from the pay per view event, or O.J.'s fee for appearing in the special.
All in all, it was a completely ill-conceived idea with even worse execution that somehow was spewed into existence. It reeks of a desperation for money from all parties involved, none of whom seemed capable of creating any well-written gags for the camera. However, it is memorable in the shock-value of seeing an accused murderer making light of the truck he rode in after he supposedly stabbed his wife and her boyfriend to death.
Most humans will live a rich, full life never knowing this even exists. For the woeful few who do see it, you can't help but leave with an overwhelming feeling that O.J. was a twisted and broken man at this point, straining to grasp at even the the slightest hint of his former celebrity and adoration.
\To most people born post 1980s, OJ Simpson was a famous athlete accused, then acquitted of murder who'd later serve time for a completely unrelated crime.*
But to the rest of us, OJ is the single most infamous athlete name of our lifetimes--the shockwave that was sent through the country when it was announced that his ex-wife and her boyfriend had been murdered in Los Angeles, was unprecedented.
Its impossible to recreate the magnitude of this mono-cultural event that was the OJ Trial, and words don't begin to describe the fall from grace of one of the most beloved sports stars ever.
We'll never be able to forget the image of the low-speed white Ford Bronco chase with dozens of police cars in not so hot pursuit, or the inhumanly long trial that fractured the country along racial lines, or the glove that don't fit (so you must acquit!).
To the younger generation: try to imagine waking up to read that one of the Manning brothers had been accused of bumping off their significant other. Maybe that serves to illustrate the disbelief that we were all hit with that one night in June, 1994.
After the 8 month murder trial (yeah, how many of you had forgotten it lasted that long?), OJ was a free man. Images of him happily golfing sent waves of anger through white America, who felt like justice was cheated by a slick defense team that highlighted the racist tactics of the LA police department. On the heels of the Rodney King video and subsequent riots, this was not only a brilliant strategy, but one rooted in a great deal of truth.
A civil lawsuit followed in which OJ was found responsible for the death of Ron Goldman and ordered to pay his family $33 million. To my knowledge, they never received a cent.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOEcsIghRpg

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

18th February 1966;

Sault South, UP, SCS;

“It’s at breaking point, and you’re apparently the source of the madness. Tell me, how do you feel about this, Mister Laurie Evelyn Aspen, considering the rumours flowing through the entire country about the cause for such major unrest.”
That was a loaded question, and instantaneously, Aspen was reminded where he was being interviewed - it was the Disembarkment Show on the SuperiorSide Radio, a pirate station that was being ‘tolerated’ by the governmental overlords. Of course, they would not be too critical of the government, just because they were not idiots, and that meant Aspen, the local Member, could never be on the best terms considering how he only tolerated Nixon and company. Furthermore, he had plans to begin his own party, alongside his army-side friend that was Colonel Atterman, namely the Organisation For Honor. Of course, he had therefore been announced as an ‘independent Member, and one to remain so for the far-future’, by the host Raymond Lefevre, whom he sat opposite.
He thanked the gods that he was being interviewed on radio and not television - on the small screen, everyone would spot his heavy nerve-sweating.
“Well… well…” started Aspen, tripping over the words now stuck in his head, “that… I cannot consider to be the case. I told them that they could order new army equipment if they wished to give more people more benefits. I have ran on a platform of better defence for our lands - I’ve seen major devastation before, remember that war just a half-decade ago. Am I the only one concerned? If we want to follow our LM’s doctrine, then we need a Superior force to challenge the best, simply put. We need that, every day of every year.”
“I know that, as somebody who also grew up around here, but Laurie, have you stopped the benefits package from coming through? People are still pretty mad, and that includes quite a lot of the Liberal-Labour’s own supporters, and perhaps many around here too. Thoughts?” asked Lefevre, hoping to eek out a slip that could be used to humour.
"No thoughts, only fact. I have approved of their next package, which is to increase the length of maternity leave and introduce the concept of paternity leave. I think it’s a risky thing to give the protesters more time, but if they can show themselves to be willing to raise a family and follow our traditional values, then they can show themselves to be brilliant citizens. Every man can hold a rifle, every woman can make another, that kind of attit’ wins wars. Plus, they also want to raise the minimum wage a bit higher, just to get them a bit happier, but I don’t want that to detract from the military. After all, Raymond--”
“It’s why you’re here, Laurie, yep. Well, any future plans? Might as well say them here, those across the water won’t be taking notes on any talk.” Raymond wanted just a little extra, just to fill out the interview slot before he put on ‘Egyptian B-Flat Major’ by Drifting En De Nile from Sun-Ra, so just one bit extra would do.
“Well, I’ll just prove you wrong from earlier. Am planning to expand my platform into my own party, that’s O4H, and to be honest, we’re here to enact a strengthening, to save Superior, and to keep our allies impressed. I’ve people within the army whom I’m consulting with to find our way, soon you’ll see it as the 67 elections arrive. That it for today?” ended off Aspen, with that devilish smile.
“Uh yes, so thank you ever so much Member Aspen for being with us, and now, we have a wonderful swing piece imported from a great distance; they call it Egyptian B-Flat Minor, and call the band Drifting En De Nile, here’s to it!”
{Paternity Leave 6 weeks, Maternity Leave 12 Weeks}