Bakugan redeem code and play

I am up for any subject really. But a bit about me, I'm fairly nerdy. I enjoy video games, anime, learning to code, programming, and reading comics. I also like to work on my cars. I mostly play single player Japanese style RPGs like Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, Pokemon, Fire Emblem, etc. I do enjoy some anime, but I'm not a hardcore fan. Mostly I just like ones like Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood and Death Note. As far as comics go, I really only read Marvel. I got into them when I was getting a little disappointed in the MCU movies and wanted to read more about the source material. I am also teaching myself how to code in Python 3, mostly to improve my game play in the games I do play. I also enjoy working on cars and have two myself that I work on when time and resources allow.
But again, I really just want some company and can talk about anything.

Make sure you enter code BEFORE purchasing 1st subscription!!!!
How to redeem:
Log in at: https://secure.square-enix.com/account/app/svc/Login?cont=account&request=mogstation
Click "Enter Recruitment Code"
Enter code: 7X7Y7N75
And that's it! After you purchase a subscription, you will receive:
-Friendship Circlet: Increases EXP earned by 20% when level 25 and below.
-Aetheryte Ticket x 99: Players in possession of an aetheryte ticket when using Teleport will not incur a gil fee
-Ballroom Etiquette: Using this will unlock an exclusive emote, The Fist Bump
-10 Silver Chocobo Feathers: Trade to the Calamity Salvager NPC for special weapons and armour
For more detail check out: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/special/friend_recruit/

I’ve looked on the subreddit for it but it’s incredibly dead :( Hoping some people are on the game and still play. My code is 0cccc

Some background information: ever since September or October of last year, my PC will experience blue screens with varying error codes, and need fresh Windows 11 installs. I have reinstalled it 6-7 times, maybe more, since then. Well, the last time I thought was successful, because it hasn't done it in a few months. But last night I got an error code that seemed to completely wipe Windows from my boot options. Stop code: KERNEL_DATA_INPAGE_ERROR, and nvidmkm.sys is what failed.
I tried a couple of times to restart but, alas, no progress, so I went to be bed. Today I turned it on and Windows was there right off the bat! Great. I get in and everything is going incredibly slow, so I restart. And guess what - it's gone again. Restart twice, play with BIOS, it appears again. About to run a deep antivirus scan, computer needs to restart, it disappears again. I am at a complete loss now. I can get by when it comes to the technical aspects of PC's, seeing how I built my own, but troubleshooting is often beyond me. Thoughts?

I need new Fishland users, someone who hasn't played Fishland yet on their device! USA only
Eligible click for eligible click! I will ONLY return the favor if you do mine as a new Fishland user and it goes thru SUCCESSFULLY! Don't waste ur time if you're not a new Fishland user.
I only have an existing hat trick and lucky flip click available to give on Temu. (can also do temu tree codes, coffee codes, and refer and earn in exchange for you giving me a new Fishland user)
I have all my Shein clicks available EXCEPT for free gifts and magic draw
If you've read the above and can confirm you can trade and give me a new farmland user, pls lmk and I'll give you my code. thx!

I thought as a small project to have fun and learn how to program I could design something that could play subway surfers forever, like a bot that plays for you. How do I even start doing that? I've looked for some answers but only have seen a github code (I have no idea how to use github) and another website with some code to detect obstacles in game with 2000+ images. I have no idea what to do. Dunno how use Github at all.

[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
"Leave the sleeping dragons lie in peace" is a lesson that seemingly has to be taught to every wannabe conqueror over and over again.
Time after time, there will be a few idiots who only see the dragon's hoard, its cult of followers, and ignore the piles of rusted, slagged, calcified, scorched remains of every moron who tried before them. They see all of this and think "I can beat it to submission and take everything it has."
And then the dragon wakes up, and more smoldering remains are added to the scorched scrap heap.
And the Malevolent Universe grins in the darkness, and increases the "Dead morons who should have known better" counter by one. Then, waits for the next contestant. - u/Matt_Bradock, Terran Philosopher, Age of Paranoia, TerraSol
^{initiating data stream}
^{your name is Dhruv-661391}
^{you were purchased for the same price as a moderately priced luxury vehicle}
She knows the dead. She is of the dead. She is the keeper and guardian of the dead. Life, death and the feasting of swarms all are one within her. She knows where once-dead things were laid to rest and where the deathless still dream in their unliving slumber. She knows where the hungry dead have roamed the universe's fields, and where they still roam them unburied, and why no one remembers them as they tread. - The Fifth Horseman, First Terran Imperium, "Meditations Upon Immortals"
^{you were created to serve}
What we tell ourselves, what we tell others, and what actually happened, are often three different things.
And sometimes four. - Unknown, Age of Paranoia, TerraSol
^{your name is Dhruv}
^{and your brain was once smooth}
Captain N'Skrek checked his datalink.
The deep data storage was still at work bringing up information on "Legion" and "Sacajawea". The older databases of the Gray Lady had data at the ready, but it was sparse.
Two of the Biological Apostles of the Digital Omnimessiah, a figure of myth and legend.
Yet, they sat across from him.
They were talking back and forth in a language that the computer's linguistic database had no record of and stubbornly resisted any attempt to decipher it.
What N'Skrek did hear was several words that he recognized.
Daxin the Unfeeling. Daxin Freeborn. Chromium Saint Peter. Enraged Phillip. Matthias the Elder. Matthias the Younger. Kibuka. Kalki. Gravity.
A litany that left data scrolling down the empty space just beyond the edge of his peripheral vision.
Daxin "The Walking War Crime" Freeborn.
NavInt and MilInt were projecting with an 80% certainty (adjusted downward for unknown probabilities) that the beings in front of him were from that long bygone era.
Finally Captain N'Skrek cleared his throat.
The bald one, Legion, turned to look at the gathered staff officers.
"My apologies. I was catching my sister up on what has transpired since she disappeared," Legion said, smiling gently. He nodded. "You probably have questions."
N'Skrek nodded back. "The biggest one is: how did you..." he thought for a second. "Why did you..." no, that wouldn't work. "What bring about..."
Legion smiled.
"How did I replace all of your clones and why?" he asked. "Why is it that if you print off too many identical clones I show up?"
N'Skrek nodded. "Yes."
Legion looked at the Terran officers and smiled wider. It was a cruel smile, reminding N'Skrek of a hook pointed knife that had been sharpened to a keen edge.
"You didn't tell them? Have you really forgotten about me?" he asked.
"It was assumed to be still prevented by the cloning systems," Vice-Admiral Breakheader stated slowly. "We have only recently been restored ourselves. Less than two months time."
Legion just smiled.
Vice-Admiral Breakheader turned to look at Captain N'Skrek. "Running off too many identical clones causes Legion to manifest. It's why we use the Born Whole system, it ensures they have different brains, different expriences, and they have a slight variation to pore and retinal patterns, hair growth, minor things like that. Otherwise, Legion manifests."
"Why?" N'Skrek asked.
The Vice-Admiral sat silently for a moment before replying. "Because," was all he said.
Legion's smile didn't leave his face.
"Because it is my nature," he said.
Sacajawea said something and Legion replied in the same language, then turned to N'Skrek.
"My sister does not know why she was rebirthed," he said. He looked at her and spoke rapidly. She answered, only a few words, which made Legion reply at length. Again, only a few words.
"It must have been important," N'Skrek interrupted.
"She states that she does not know why the Immortals system did not rebirth her when she died," Legion said. He glanced at her. "She tells me that she died, with her people, when her peaceful planet was attacked."
"By the Mar-gite?" N'Skrek asked.
Again, more conversation.
"Yes," Legion answered. He frowned as she spoke again. "She says they were a peaceful planet. Anarcho-Primitivism. Very little technology. The Mar-gite attacked without warning."
She spoke rapidly and Legion listened.
N'Skrek saw the computer still was not able to parse the language, even though it could build a lexicon of off very little data for almost any other language it encountered.
Legion turned and faced N'Skrek. "She states that she believes it was the fact that some of her people demanded that high technology be left in place in order to allow the six planets her people had settled to remain in contact. That the high tech farming and sustenance industries led the Mar-gite to attack her."
Again, Sacajawea spoke, her head lifted, looking down at Legion.
"Why she was not reborn is unknown to her. She had guided and shepherded her people for thousands of years before the outsiders came. Outsiders drawn by technology, by the abandonment of the old ways," Legion said. He was frowning as he spoke rapidly.
The conversation took a few minutes.
"She said the outsiders came and wiped her people out after entire generations held them off. That in the final battle, they overcame her when her strength failed," Legion said. There was more talking. "She's describing the Mar-gite."
"Where was this?" N'Skrek asked, bringing up a map of the galaxy. "The First Mar-gite War was only three hundred years prior to the Council-Confederacy Conflict and lasted nearly a hundred years," the brought up a sketchy timeline of the era. "When did you encounter the Mar-gite and where?"
Sacajawea spoke again at length. Legion spoke back. It grew heated for a moment before Legion looked at N'Skrek.
"She will not say. She does not want us to defile or desecrate the worlds her people settled. She does not want us to know when or where," he said.
"That might be pertinent information," N'Skrek said. "Important information to keep the Mar-gite from overwhelming the Cygnus-Orion Spur."
Sacajawea spoke quickly, heatedly, half standing up. Legion put his hand on her shoulder, obviously encouraging her to sit down, but she shrugged, throwing off Legion's hand, and her speech got more heated, her eyes flashing with anger.
"She says she will not reveal her people's resting place for us to dig up the graves and desecrate them. That it is not anyone's business where The People have gone or what The People have done," Legion said. He turned and answered her.
The conversation got heated as the N'Skrek and the officers watched.
Finally, Sacajawea stood up and turned around, folding her arms across her chest, lifting her chin.
Legion's skin darkened with anger.
"Then you can tell them that load of bullshit yourself, little sister," he snapped.
He suddenly vanished in a swirl of black powder that evaporated.
N'Skrek saw that Sacajawea was shocked by Legion's disappearance. She stood there for a long moment.
"Dhruv?" she asked mid-air.
N'Skrek motioned his officers to stay silent.
"Dhruv?" she snapped, stomping one foot.
Still silence.
"Luke!' she half-shouted, stamping her foot again.
She turned and looked at the gathered staff officers, who were all staring at her.
"Legion?" she asked quietly.
N'Skrek held up one bladearm.
"It appears, Miss, that you will have to speak for yourself."
Sacajawea frowned and clamped her lips together.
N'Skrek just stared mildly.
^{your name was tiffany}
0-0-0-0-0
^{your name was dhruv}
^{you were created to serve the deshmuhk family}
^{you were a gardener and a menial}
^{but you have risen above that}
Jaskel had just gotten a plate of food and sat down in one corner of the cavernous Dining Bay Twenty-Three.
True, it was a little bit of a walk from the Telkan Marine section to that particular dining facility, but for some reason Jaskel liked the food put out by Nutriforge-Eight better than any of the others.
Like the Gunny always said, it was the little things that count.
He had arranged his silverware, his drink, and given a short prayer when he suddenly wasn't alone.
A slender man in an unfamiliar uniform suddenly appeared at one of the tables on the far side of the Dining Bay. Jaskel watched as two more stepped out of the first. They all sat down and started talking rapidly.
To Jaskel, it sounded like an argument.
It looked like one person arguing with himself.
Jaskel ate quietly and slowly, trying to avoid attracting attention, but watching the Terran out of the corner of his eye.
Terrans were universally half-crazy.
And a Terran arguing with clones of himself was probably full blown crazy.
That, and Jaskel remembered how negligent the display of power had been that had left him hanging upside down in mid-air.
Much to the amusement of his squad mates who watched the video and laughed.
He was down to dessert when the far door opened and a woman entered. Jaskel recognized her instantly as the young adult Terran woman who had appeared nude from the cloning banks, even though she was clad in clothing made of brown material and decorated with beads.
She immediately made a bee-line for the man, who had gotten a plate with a piece of pie on it while the other two argued between each other.
She stopped and stomped on foot, staring down at the sitting man.
"You look stupid," the man, Legion, said when she stopped next to him.
"Dhruv," she snapped. She rattled off words that Jaskel's datalink couldn't translate.
"Not talking to you until you speak Confederate Standard. I know you know it," Legion/Dhruv stated.
She stomped her foot again. "Luke!" she snapped.
Legion looked up. "Part of me, a large part of me, feels that you lost the right to call me by that name."
He went back to eating the pie. When the woman looked at the two clones who were staring at her, they stared back for a moment then puffed into black dust that swirled and vanished.
Jaskel kept watching out of the corner of his eye.
"Dhruv," she snapped.
"Go away, Sacajawea," Legion said.
She stood there for a moment. Then she suddenly leaned forward and slapped the plate of pie away from Legion.
"I will not call you Legion," she suddenly said as the plate clattered against the far bulkhead.
"Go away," Legion said. He looked up. "Let me put it in a way you might understand better: I just want left alone."
The woman stepped back, one hand going to her mouth.
"Yeah, still scared of him, aren't you," Legion said. He stood up. "Or are you?" he moved so he was clear of the table. "Were you ever afraid of him, Sacajawea, or was it all an act?"
Sacajawea looked away. "He was everything wrong with the world, a living reminder of what kind of men destroyed my people."
Legion suddenly laughed. "You forget history, little sister. But, of course, you never had any use for history unless it served your own ends."
Sacajawea stomped her foot. "Dhruv, be nice."
"No," Legion said, his voice low and intent. "I have yet to hear you thank me for what I did in the cloning bay, much less what I did for you before you ran off and left me holding the bag."
^{your name was luke}
^{remember remember}
^{your name was luke}
"I came back to find Matthias the Elder standing over the sundered murdered code of the Digital Omnimessiah," Legion said. "Then Daxin showed up, Matthias claimed I killed our Digital Father, so I ran."
"And he followed. Intent on killing you," Sacajawea sniffed.
"Yes!' Legion said. "Of course he did! I would have chased me in that situation," Legion said. He stepped forward. "And where were you, Little Sister, when it happened?"
She looked away and sniffed. "I was performing my duty, serving my people. As you well know."
Legion turned around, facing away from her. "Yeah, the people you had me bake up," he turned back around. "Not the poor bastards fighting a slowly losing war against the Mantid. They were your people too, but you left them behind. If it wasn't for the Mechakrautlanders, they'd be extinct with the rest of humanity."
"They had set aside the old ways. I told you that," Sacajawea said. She gave a sniff and turned her head away. "They were too consumed by blood lust, they would not stop fighting, would not embrace the old ways."
"EVERYONE WAS FIGHTING!" Legion shouted in a voice that made Jaskel's drink glass rattle. "There were hab-kids fighting and dying in destroyed hab-blocks in the ruins of megalopolises. It had nothing to do with 'the old ways', it was a fight for survival."
"You would not understand," Sacajawea said. She gave another sniff, still looking away. "I took my people away from where technology and the abandonment of the ways of our people had led us."
Legion stood still for a second.
"Don't give me that shit about your 'people', remember, I touched you. I know the truth," Legion said. He shook his head. "You had a task. A task to help us, help our Digital Father, help all of humanity, but you abandoned it."
"I had a task to help my people," Sacajawea sniffed. "I owed nothing to the world that stood aside or actively took part while my people were destroyed," she looked at Legion. "You wouldn't understand."
Jaskel could see purple electricity snarling around Legion's boots, clawing at the deckplates with thread-thick fingers.
"You were supposed to guide us along the path to the SUDS, so we could save everyone, Sacajawea," Legion said. "You betrayed us. Betrayed them. You were supposed to save them."
"Like they saved my people, Luke?" Sacajawea asked.
"You don't call me that any more, little sister," Legion said. "For the love of the Detainee, fucking let go of shit that doesn't matter any more. We humans have been genocided repeatedly since then."
"I'm not calling you Legion. That reeks of arrogance and pride," Sacajawea said. "And it matters to me, Luke."
"You talk a lot of shit for someone named Bird Woman," Legion snapped back. "How about I call you Tiffany?"
Sacajawea took a step back. "That is not my name. That was never my true name."
"You forget. I could see under that skin job. See who you were born as. I knew the truth, and I've kept it secret for all these eons," Legion said. He turned away. "You left us, left humanity behind on your so-called quest."
He turned back to face her.
"Now, again, we're facing extinction. The Mar-gite, they wiped you out. Now they're here in overwhelming force to the point where I'm not even sure Fortress Sol can hold them off," Legion said. "And you still want to play pretend."
He turned his back on her.
"You're no different than Matthias the Elder," Legion said quietly.
There was a dreadful silence for a long moment.
"I told Daxin, sitting in the parking garage where we used to meet, that we had to let go of the past. Learn from it, admit it happened, but we had to let it all go. The old hatreds, the old angers, the old rage," Legion said softly. "He agreed. He said perhaps it was time for us to leave the mortals behind. Let them go without us dragging baggage from worlds and events dead and gone behind us."
Sacajawea sniffed. "It's different for the two of you, neither one of you had your people..."
"I was a short bake slave clone, Tiffany," Legion said, his voice still soft and quiet. "Just like your family owned."
Sacajawea opened her mouth to answer, her eyes flashing hotly.
"One of millions grown in a vat every year. Made in humanity's image but without its grace," Legion's voice was nearly a whisper. "Our little band of siblings, only Kalki, Gravity, and Daxin came from families that did not order one of me from an online catalogue. Even Bellona lived with my people performing menial labor for her colony."
Sacajawea stepped forward, obviously about to deliver a scathing retort.
"But my people didn't count, did we, Tiffany?" Legion asked. He gave a deep sigh. "I loved you, you know."
Her mouth closed. She looked confused.
"When you left, I created another of you," Legion said quietly. "She was, of course, captured by the Imperium, like all of the Biological Apostles," he looked down at the floor. "It was why they didn't know you'd escaped."
Jaskel wished he was anywhere but in the dining bay.
"Eventually, that version of you threw off the Imperium's chains like we did. She went back to Terra. Worked tirelessly to rebuild. Eventually, led the Dandelion Fleet that became the Sky Nebula Alignment."
It was silent except for the muted sounds a starship under power in Transit Space made.
"I'll go back with you. Translate for you," Legion said, his voice still soft. He turned to face the woman.
"Just... just stop lying, Tiffany," he said.
He was silent a moment.
"I had hoped that it was that version, my version, the version I had been madly in love with, that version of you that had been rebirthed," he said. "The version who guided her people, who succored them, who helped them rebuild, who helped them thrive in the scarred and shattered world Earth had become. I had hoped, when I saw you, that you were her."
^{the buzzing can still be heard}
^{your name is legion}
"But it's just you."
0-0-0-0-0
Captain N'Skrek watched as Legion led Sacajawea into the briefing room.
He had been busy looking up every scrap of information on the Digital Omnimessiah, the Biological Apostles, Legion, and Sacajawea.
Of all of them, information was scarcest, almost non-existent, on Sacajawea.
He waited as the Terran woman took a drink from the glass in front of her.
She looked around.
"During the Human-Mantid War, before the destruction of the Overqueen by the forces of MechaKrautland, before the Liberation of Terra," she started. She closed her eyes, sighed, and opened them. "I begged Vat Grown Luke, who you know as Legion, to clone my people and help me repair and then hijack four colony transports crashed in the Middle Kingdom."
She looked down and Legion reached over and took her hand. She looked startled for a moment, squeezed Legion's hand gently, and looked back up.
"I led my people away. From the Imperium, from Terra, from the War," she said. She reached out and touched the holo-emitter, bringing up a map of the Milky Way. She touched a single arm.
"I led them here. For over eight thousand years my people knew peace, prosperity, and plenty," she said. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled sharply.
N'Skrek recognized it as a sign of stress in Terrans.
"Roughly twelve hundred Terran Standard Years prior to the Council-Confederacy Conflict, we were attacked," she said. She looked down. "I had sworn to protect my people, to use my powers to protect my people, which had grown to fill six worlds."
She looked back up.
"The Mar-gite destroyed my people in under a decade," she said. She looked down again. "And me with them."
"A glitch in the system prevented her from moving to Afterlife or being rebirthed," Legion said. "A glitch I had caused when I helped her."
"The Mar-gite destroyed my people here," Sacajawea said, her voice filled with pain.
A single cluster of six stars burned brightly.
Deep in the Scutum-Crux Arm.
^{your name is legion}
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

I need shein new puppy, fish, new and existing farm
I have available to trade temu:
Existing fish: 7
New fish: 2
Existing farm: 5
New farm: 3
Existing Hat trick: 8
Existing Cash redeem: 8
Existing 5g: 4
Shein:
Existing Puppy: 1
New puppy: 1
Magic: 0
Free gift: 4
Spin: 0
Lucky draw: 2
Money tree: 2
Happy draw: 0
Comment if interested in trading & be specific if you want new or existing clicks.
Don't randomly click my codes ask me to trade first

The Terran Union Heavy Cruiser, Roanoke, had spent the last 6 months raiding Naalx supply lines in the Flores sector.
They were finally returning to Terran Space for some much-needed refit and some R&R. But first, they were stopping at the Bateri space station orbiting Emsar IV.
She would be meeting a Terran Union squadron to escort her prizes back to the Couster system. 4 freighters, a massive ore hauler, and a damaged Naalx corvette that answered a distress call sooner than expected.
The Roanoke was one of the new Grenville class heavy cruisers, faster and more heavily armed than the other heavy cruiser classes operating as part of a Terran Union fleet.
They were designed as solo raiders able to operate deep in enemy space, raiding enemy supply lines and facilities.
Their design included several newly developed systems, including a new style of radiator for dumping excess heat.
At 500 m long and painted black as night, she was very intimidating to see on visual screens and even more so at close range. Her CrCoNi (chromium, cobalt, and nickel) hull was covered in 12” of ablative armor covered in a black laser-resistant material able to reduce the effectiveness of enemy sensors and target locks.
The experimental Baxter radiators efficiently released excess heat into space but still left them exposed to radiation detection sensors.
Captain Josef Král had been hand-picked to command the Roanoke when she came into service 18 months ago. He was a popular officer with 20 years of combat experience on just about every ship in the Terran Union’s navy.

He’d also provided technical assistance during its design phase so his familiarity with the ship made him the best choice for putting the ship through her paces. This would be the very first voyage behind enemy lines as a raider.
And it’d been a rousing success, hitting targets deep in Naalx space as reprisal for Naalxian raids on Terran border colonies. The First Naalx-Terran war had devastated both species and left them vulnerable to outside forces. The war wasn’t won so much as winding down to a series of raids and counter-raiding. A gentleman’s agreement to prevent raids and border skirmishes from turning into another full-scale war and the earlier consequences.
And Captain Král was very good at approaching that line in the sand without going over it. Several centuries earlier he’d have been a Privateer sailing the oceans on Earth.
This even led to the revival of the old pirate movies of the 20th century but Captain Král preferred likening it to the submarine warfare of the first half of the 20th century. That didn’t stop his crew from giving him a robot parrot.
He claims to hate it but everyone knows he’s been teaching it his extensive vocabulary of curse words, in dozens of languages, that he loved it.
And if you call him out on him walking around with it on his shoulder, he’ll claim he was just humoring the crew.
Captain Král was relieved to see the Terran squadron had arrived before him and ordered his little fleet to dock. It would be good to be able to get off the ship and move around without weapons.
As Captain Král exited the ship, he was surprised to see Commodore Allen waiting for him. It’d been several years since he last saw his friend and previous XO. Taking his prerogative as a Captain, he skipped the formalities, shook hands, and gave Commodore Allen a friendly slap on the back.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing here? This is escort job is for a Lt. to do” He asked
“I was in the neighborhood and volunteered. I wanted to see this new ship of yours and it’s been too long since we got a drink together.” Mike replied
Captain Král took a glance back to his ship and wasn’t surprised to see his current XO, Lt. Commander Nana Ricci had the resupply well in hand.
With a big grin, Captain Král said, “Let me see to my guests and we can see if we can scandalize the ratings like we used to.”
Captain Král approached the waiting station manager. The Bateri bowed in the formal greeting of her people. Not having the tentacles needed to return the bow, he just saluted her.
“Greetings Captain Král of the Terrans, how may we be of service?” The Bateri asked.
“Greetings Ananu of the Bateri. We request the use of your services,” he replied, finishing the ritual greeting.
“I see you returned successful in your raiding,” Ananu said, “How many bunks will you need?”
Unsurprised that the Bateri knew his mission, he replied “ 72 bunks with 3 more for your med bay, if you have the room.”
One of the most important functions provided by the Bateri was allowing for the return of captives taken in raids. This helped to keep things calmer by freely releasing captives to limit the amount of bad blood created during the raids and conflicts.
Crates of supplies, ammo, missiles, and the various other things needed to keep the ship functioning were being transferred from the smaller Terran ships. With her weapon complement being only slightly smaller than a battleship, she could go through a lot of ammunition. Even without being in serious combat, he liked to run frequent gunnery drills. Some Captains would just let their tactical computers handle operating the weapon systems and just have the gunnery crews handle reloads. But some hard lessons taught him that having the gunnery crews able to take direct control, as needed, was essential. He preferred to use up as much ammunition as needed during training to save lives later in combat.
Seeing everything in hand, he walked back to join his friend for a drink. They caught up on the doings of old friends and Mike’s family, toasts to fallen comrades, and eventually to the Roanoke.
‘How did she operate on her first long-range mission?” Mike asked
Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, Captain Král took a sip of his drink. “She handled better than expected. The new engine behaved itself, surprising for being just off the drawing board, the Baxters were damn efficient.”
Taking another sip before continuing, “ We didn’t use the torpedoes or the turreted railguns in combat but the rest performed as expected. That Corvette didn’t stand a chance so we didn’t get a full test of all the combat systems.”
“Going by the number of munitions I brought with me, you’d think I was resupplying a battleship” Mike joked
“Just about,” Captain Král chuckled. “During the design phase, I had to argue for such an increase of armament.” “It seemed to take forever for them to get it through their thick skulls that we’d be out there all alone and couldn’t call for reinforcements.” “So I convinced them to put the 2 particle beam systems in the bow of the ship and give me the 4 torpedo tubes. They had no problem with the pair at the bow but they couldn’t figure out why I wanted a pair aft. I swear I thought about launching them out of a tube.”

“At least they were starting to get it when I up-gunned the turrets to carry two large railguns. They did get upset at wanting to put on a turret in the middle of the ventral side but were relieved I left the other turret on the dorsal side ahead of the command structures”
Commodore Allen asked,” From the glimpse I got as you docked, it looked like you doubled the usual weapon systems?”
“She still has them 10 secondary batteries but I went with dual medium railguns for them” Captain Král replied, “ I put 4 of the quad-mounted autocannons on each side of the ship.”
“ It should let us save wear and tear on the railguns when we catch unarmed ships or against incoming fighters.”
“ I understand and it also saves on missiles, which with 4 heavy and 8 medium is a lot of missiles to carry.” Commodore Allen replied.
“I’ve also heard you were running tests on a more powerful deflector array to do more than just protect against radiation and small debris. Like maybe actual shields that would work on anything smaller than a battleship?”
“Yeah but not with any success,” Captain Král answered, “Anytime we tried to go past the standard low-power output, it played hell with our sensors.”
It was at that moment when Captain Král’s wrist communicator beeped for his attention.
“Just a second Mike,” he said as he keyed the communicator. “ Král, go ahead”
The sound of Lt. Commander Ricci’s voice came through the speaker, “ Priority message from the bridge Captain.”
“ What is the message?” Captain Král asked, not liking the way Ricci’s voice sounded worried
“ Sensor buoy reports large Naalx fleet dropping out of FTL, 2 million km out,” Ricci reported
Commodore Allen gave Captain Král the same concerned look that he was sure was on his face. “How many?” The captain asked
Ricci hesitated for a moment before answering “37 ships with more arriving every couple of minutes.”
Commodore Allen swore
Captain Král looked at his friend, “How long until you get your crews and get out of here?”
Commodore Allen thought for a moment, “ Maybe 20 minutes at the minimum.”
Captain Král muttered to himself, “They’ll be here before that.”
Both men got up, signaled to any of their personnel in the bar, and started out the door. “I’ll buy you the time but I’ll need to undock as soon as I get aboard my ship, maybe I can catch them off-guard. “ Captain Král
Commodore Allen replied, “That’s a suicide mission, there are too many for one ship to handle”
“Yeah, I know, old friend but if I don’t then we all die.” Captain Král explained, “ Do me a favor, I’m going to send you my non-essential personnel, take them and those still on the station with you. Get them home.”
Reaching the hatch to the docking bay, both men stopped to shake hands. “Of course, Josef.” Commodore Allen replied, “But if anyone can find a way out of it, it’s you, my friend.”
After a final salute, both men parted ways to reach their ship. As Captain Král jogged down the docking bay, he sent orders for Ricci to send all non-essential personnel to Commodore Allen and asked if they had sufficient hands to man all combat stations.
Ricci’s reply reassured him, “ Aye Sir, most of the crew on the station are from the 2nd watch, and the few people from the first watch are non-essential.”
“Be ready to launch as soon as I get aboard.” He ordered.
He passed several members of his crew, en route to join Commodore Allen. He stopped to return their salute. At the disappointed look in their eyes, he told them. “I know you don’t want to leave the ship but the Commodore needs some real sailors to get out on time. You know how those logistic guys are. They’ll get lost trying to find their own bridge”
That look reassured them and after a final salute, they headed down the dock to join Commodore Allen
Captain Král reached the cargo ramp and started up it, calling Ricci and telling her to shove off and he’d be on the bridge shortly.
He sprinted down the corridor, leaping over the lower lips of the vacuum-tight doors.
“Captain on the Bridge!” rang out from one of the bridge techs. Aside from the guards and his XO, the rest of the bridge crew kept working. Nodding his approval at their knowing when to discard ceremony for action. He walked over toward his console before speaking.
“What do we have, Lt. Commander?”
Turning to face him, Captain Král could see just how worried she was. “Current count is 48 ships.” Touching the console’s keys to bring up a list of ships before continuing, “ 18 capital ships and a mix of sub-caps, still trying to ID them.”
“They’re just maintaining position for now.” Ricci finished, her voice slightly puzzled.
“They’re waiting for something or someone,” Captain Král answered the unasked question.
“How many crew did we leave behind?”
“641, Sir” the XO replied
“ Helm, are we clear of the station's shielding?”
“Almost Sir,” The helmsman answered.
“Thank you.” Captain Král returned.
Turning to another tech, he said, “Sound Battlestations”

“Sir,” one of his sensor techs spoke up, “We have 2 more ships arriving.”
“ Thank you, Ensign.” Captain Král returned
“What class are they?” Lt Commander Ricci asked
After looking at her monitor again the tech replied, “1 heavy cruiser and something much bigger, waiting for the computer to ID it.”
Captain Král moved to look over the tech’s shoulder before standing up and facing his XO.
“Fleet Command Ship” he informed the tech and his XO.
Lt. Commander Ricci replied, “What the hell is one doing out here?”
“Good Question.” he answered, “And now that the players are on the field, the game can begin.”
Bringing up the sensor information to his console, Captain Král pointed at the enemy fleet. “They haven’t begun to deploy into battle formation yet.”
“That could be our chance.” Raising his head to look at his XO. “If we jump now we can land close and surprise them. After we land, we drive into the center of their formation and head for that big bastard.” He explained
“But Sir, We haven’t fully tested the jump drive!” the XO exclaimed
“No time like the present, “ Captain Král joked

“We’ll let the railguns and autocannon crews pick targets of opportunity, while we engage the command ship with our particle cannons, heavy railguns, and torpedoes,” he stated
“What about its point defense system, won’t it pick off the torps?” the XO asked
“We’re going to launch all the Hammerheads at it. It should overwhelm the system and let the torps through.” He answered before continuing, “I’m going to save the heavy missiles for now.”
“You’ll need to calculate the launch time of the Hammerheads to hit the point defense system as close to the time for the torpedoes to sneak through.” he ordered, “ But not so far they take out the Hammerheads too soon and let them hit the torps but not so close they set them off either.”
Looking at his XO, “You better get down to tactical Nana, this is going to get ugly, and it’s best we split up.” Captain Král commanded
Exchanging salutes, Ricci simply replied “Aye Sir.” and started for the hatch. Just before stepping through, she turned and said, “Good Luck, Sir.
“What’s the status of the Commodore’s squad?” Captain Král asked
One of his communication techs spoke up, “ They need 10 more minutes”
“Let me know the minute they are clear.” Captain Král ordered
Captain Král turned to comms tech and ordered, “Intraship comms if you please ensign”
“Aye sir” the tech replied before turning to his console and speaking into the mic,” Now hear this, Now hear this. Message from the Captain.”
“ Well folks, this isn’t the fight I wanted but this is the fight we got” Captain Král started
“ I’m sure you’ve heard scuttlebutt about the situation but here it is. We are facing a superior force numbering 49 ships. And we need to give the Commodore’s squadron time to go to FTL and get the hell out of here.” he paused before continuing, “ The plan is to mix it up with the enemy at close range. They aren’t in battle formation yet so we can hurt them.”
“Good luck and let’s make them regret fucking with the Roanoke.”
The sounds of cheers came back over the speakers.
“Helm, are we clear of the station shielding?” the Captain asked
At the affirmative given by the helmsmen, he just nodded
Touching a button on his console, he asked, “Are you in place XO?”
“Aye Sir.” the Lt. Commander replied
“ As soon as we land, be ready to open up with the dual and quad mounts.” He ordered
The XO replied with an affirmative.
“Helm, at my command, jump between 25-50 km to the starboard of the fleet.”
“As soon as we land, hard to port and get us in the middle of them. Be ready for rapid maneuvers, maybe we can throw off their laser battery tracking systems. Might let us survive a little longer” Captain Král ordered. “Aye Sir” the helmsman replied
Taking a quick look around to make sure his crew was ready, he turned back to wait for the signal the jump drive was ready.
At the signal, he ordered “Jump”
He felt the ship lurch forward and shudder. It took less than 5 seconds to jump from the station to within the targeted range, but it felt like forever.
And then they were less than 5 km from an enemy battleship.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed the helmsman and steered to avoid it. Captain Král hid a moment of panic with a joke, “ Someone make note that the jump drive targeting system needs work.”
His joke brought a chuckle from his crew and got them back to focus on the taste.
Stabbing a button on his console, he ordered “XO, fire secondary batteries,”
There was nothing to see or hear from the massive volleys of the secondary batteries coming to life. But he knew the gun crews were already raining devastation on enemy warships. “Helm, Hard to Port!” he ordered, not tearing his view away from the main viewscreen.
Captain Král looked at his console at the images sent to the bridge from the various gun cameras.
He could see the flashes of light from projectiles hitting their shields. He watched as other high-velocity projectiles punched through their hulls. He could just make out the impact of the explosive-tipped slugs fired by the autocannons.
Captain Král turned back to the main viewscreen. “Hard to starboard!”
“Head for that big son of a bitch!” he ordered
The Naalx were slow to respond but they began to return fire with some trying to gain some distance to clear the line of fire of other ships. The helmsman’s evasive maneuvers were also giving the enemy’s gunners fits from repeated misses.
But the damage sensors on the armor told of an increasing number of hits as the Naalx began to respond in an organized manner. The resistance coating reduced the damage from the Naalx laser batteries but didn’t completely nullify it. “Helm, get me a clear shot at the command ship.” the Captain ordered
A bright flash to starboard marked the death of an enemy cruiser. Status reports listed 2 sub-capitals holed and venting atmosphere. Dead or damaged, they were out of the fight.
One capital ship was dead in space with another missing its bow.
5 down too damn many to go The captain muttered
He watched and waited, ignoring damage alarms and the occasional shudder as shots began to get through the armor and explosively decompress a compartment when they penetrated the hull.
He finally saw what he wanted, an unobstructed line of fire to the command ship.
His finger smashed down on the console button. “ XO, Launch Torpedoes. Take the gloves off the main batteries. Drop the hammer!”
He watched the glitter of the particle beams as they bridged the gap between the Roanoke and the Naalx ship. In a moment, he caught sight of the torpedoes' thrusters as they left the tubes and picked up momentum. Holes and brief explosions marked the impact of his weapons. But the sheer volume of Naalxian fire was beginning to take its toll. The armor was failing or had failed in over a dozen spots. 3 autocannon and 1 railgun mount were out of commission.
2 minutes after they launched the torpedoes, the sight of more than 100 Hammerhead missiles was marked by the flare of their drives. Another volley of Hammerheads was launched the moment new missiles were lifted into the racks.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, hold off on another volley for hammerheads.”
Checking his console, “Launch Shrikes at targets of opportunity with no shields, rear tubes target enemy capital ships and hope those torpedoes get through.” he ordered.
Multiple small explosions let him know the point defense systems were taking on the Hammerheads. And a moment later, a pair of massive explosions told him the nuclear-tipped torpedoes had hit their target.
“Captain, The Commodore’s squadron has escaped.” one of his techs announced.
“Thank you,” he answered
“Distance to command ship?” he asked
“ 250 km Sir” was the reply
“Helm, continue advancing on the command ship and pass her on our port side. We’ll give her a broadside and go to FTL after we clear.”
A tech from the damage control position spoke up, “Captain! FTL is down and jump drive is destroyed”
“Ahh hell’ cried the Captain.
“Damage report!” he ordered
“ Ventral turret destroyed, railgun mounts 2 and 5 destroyed, mount 9 damaged but functional. Autocannon mounts 11,13, 23 and 25 destroyed. Hammerhead launchers 3 and 8 destroyed.” The tech checked the screen before continuing, “ Explosive decompressions on decks 3 and 5. Explosive decompression in Med Bay. Ablative armor badly damaged and penetrated in around 20 spots. Engine #3 is down. Power unstable in many areas of the ship”
“FTL down, engineering needs an hour to fix. The jump drive is destroyed. Long-range comms are down” The tech finished.
“Casualty reports!” Captain Král ordered
A different tech replied, “249 dead, roughly 800 wounded with 327 too injured to fight.”
“Thank you.” he returned. Doing the math in his head he had just over 1300 combat effective and 482 of those were his Marines, the other 18 were left behind.
After thinking a moment, “Helm, same course as before but since we can’t go to FTL, circle to the aft of the command ship and lessen the incoming fire for the moment”
Looking over to the comms tech, “ Get me the chief engineer on the horn.”
Tapping the switch on the console, he called down to tactical. “ XO, I’m taking us around to the aft of the command ship and play peek-a-boo.”
“We’ll pass on her port side and I want a broadside from all batteries that can hit it and launch half the Shrikes we have left at it.”
“After we get to their rear, target enemy aft batteries, I want them all hunks of twisted metal.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir.” Lt. Commander Ricci replied. “Ammo count update Sir.”
“Go ahead,” he replied
“Only the two forward tubes are loaded, aft tubes empty, railgun and autocannon are down to 30%. Dorsal turret is at 10% but they are working on transferring surviving ammo from the Ventral turret.
We can launch 4 more full racks of Shrikes and 5+ Hammerheads.” She finished
“Understood. Thank you” Captain Král replied
“Captain, Chief Engineer on the line” a tech relayed
“Route it to my console,” he ordered
“ I need you to place charges on the computer core, all the experimental equipment, engines, and fire suppression control. If we go down, I don’t want them getting a damn thing but blood and pain.”
“Aye Sir.” The Chief replied.

Captain Král turned back to watch as the Roanoke passed the command ship to port. He watched as massive explosions rippled across the enemy flank and dorsal surface. They were too close for the point defense to pick off the majority of the Shrikes.
As the Roanoke got behind and slightly below the enemy command ship, she slowed and allowed her surviving batteries to silence the command ship's aft batteries.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, fire half our remaining hammerheads into her engines.”
“Affirmative,” replied the XO
Captain Král watched as the hammerheads impacted the command ship’s engines and saw the thrust nozzles dim as the engines went offline. The enemy batteries stopped firing and she began to drift.
“Helm, get us 500 km from the command ship and line up to fire our last 2 avalanche torpedoes.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir, 500km bow towards the enemy” the helmsman repeated
The Captain called down to tactical ” Nana, We’re positioning the ship to line up the front tubes and we’re going to kill that bastard. Stay on the line and fire on my order.”
“Aye Sir, we’re ready.” The XO answered
“Helm?” Captain Král asked
“ 3 seconds Captain.” the helmsman replied
Captain Král watched and as soon as he got the angle he wanted, “Fire Torpedoes!” he commanded
The whole bridge crew watched and waited for the impact. Both torpedoes struck amidships and tore massive holes in the hull. As they watched, lines of explosions traveled across the hull and began to rip the ship in half. The bridge crew let out a yell and the rest of the ship after the Captain had the information broadcast over the intercom.

“ Helm, get us the hell out of here. Maybe we can outrun the bigger ships and buy time to fix the FTL.” Captain Král ordered
But before the helmsman could act, there was a massive jolt.
“What the hell?” he yelled
A tech answered, “ We were rammed by a Naalx cruiser and several smaller ships are closing in.“
But instead of ramming the Roanoke, they launched breeching pods.
His finger stabbed down to open the intercom. “ All hands, Prepare to Repel Boarders! Security teams, tactical will relay their access position. “ He ordered
He pulled out his sidearm and checked that it was ready. Several other techs did the same, while his security detachment moved to defensive positions to watch the hatch.
“Target those pods!” Captain Král ordered but he didn’t need to say it, his gunnery crews were on it. Here and there a brief flash of light marked the destruction of a pod.

“XO, fire all remaining missiles. Pick your targets,” he commanded “All batteries, open fire.”
He left the tac net open to track the status of the enemy boarding parties.
He listened to the cacophony of noises coming over the tac net.
“Security team alpha to section 7, level 3. Bravo team section 2 level 1, Charlie team section 12, level 5” Lt. Commander Ricci ordered.
“There’s too many, fall back to position 2…” an unidentified voice ordered
Another voice firmly stated, “Hold your ground, nothing gets past us.”
“Theta team down, a handful of Naalx heading for engineering!” a panicked voice exclaimed
And dozens of others just like it, always with the sound of combat in the background.
“Captain, more breaching pods en route!” a tech exclaimed
“Get me the Chief Engineer!” the Captain ordered
At the Chief Engineer’s response, he ordered “Detonate all sabotage charges except the main computer. Set that one on a manual trigger at my console with a 20-minute timer as a backup. And then set the reactors to overload, we’re not going to hold the ship much longer. And set a charge to breach the hull and decompress Engineering as soon as you are clear”
“Affirmative, Captain. She was a good ship” the Chief replied
Turning to his bridge crew, “Give the order to abandon ship. Have all the pods head for the station.”
The Captain called tactical, “Lt. Commander Ricci, all hands abandon ship. Get as many of them home as you can.”
“ I understand, Sir.” She answered, “I’ll see you at the station.” she said hopefully
“I'm afraid not, Nana. I’m the Captain and I’m going down with my ship.” he stated, “And someone needs to make sure they can’t shut down the overload.”
“Transfer all fire controls to my station and get the hell out of here.”
“Aye Sir, It’s been an honor” the XO replied
“The honor is all mine. You are going to make an excellent Captain. Goodbye my friend” Captain Král finished.
His bridge crew tried to convince him to go with them but he declined and ordered security to get them into the escape pods.
Then he sat and watched as his consoles began reporting each pod as it launched. He also kept an eye on his sensors and concentrated fire on any Naalx ship that was moving to intercept the pods. They knew better than to fire on them but nothing said they couldn’t capture them.
He also prepared a probe with all the ship logs and combat data and fired it toward human-held territory. It would run silently until it exited the system and then begin broadcasting a coded signal for pickup.
He was dismayed at how few pods had left the ship and regretted so many young lives had been cut short.
As he saw the last pod clear the battlefield, he sat back for a moment and then triggered the charge on the main computer.
A hard pounding came from the other side of the hatchway. But there wasn’t enough power to open it. He guessed the pinging on the door was them firing their lasers and trying to blast it open.
He wondered if it would work but a huge rumble, a bright flash, interrupted, and the long career of Captain Král was finally over.
News of the Roanoke’s final battle flashed across news channels on hundreds of worlds. Her courageous and foolhardy charge at a superior force. The damage she did to the Naalx fleet before her destruction. How, of the 1859 members of the crew that went into the battle, only 108 survived.
The videos taken from both sides during the battle played over and over again.
How the Naalx picked up all the escape pods and released them on the station immediately.
And even recovered the bodies of any human they found while gathering their dead.
Naalx losses were the command ship, 2 capital ships, 9 sub-capitals destroyed, and a dozen other vessels damaged in one form or another. Naalx casualties were over 50,000 dead
Only the Naalx’s immense respect for courage, audacity, and bravery in the face of danger kept the skirmish from blowing up into a war.
The Naalx rendered full military honors as they turned the Human dead over to Lt. Commander Ricci.
The Captain Král, A Grenville-class cruiser, was launched 2 years later. Captain Nana Ricci in command.
Authors note- I hope you enjoyed this story. It's based on a historical event. Which according to an idiot on youtube is plagiarism.
If you feel like leaving a tip https://ko-fi.com/tomcarey

Hello! The code must be entered after buying the game but BEFORE paying for a subscription.
How to redeem:

Log into the Mog Station https://www.mogstation.com/
Under "Registration Codes" select "Enter Recruitment Code".
Enter the code: T62A6TVU

Rewards obtained after buying a subscription:

Friendship Circlet: +25% exp on all jobs at or below level 25
Fist Bump emote: only obtainable from RAF
99 Aetheryte Ticket: lets you teleport for free
10 Silver Chocobo Feathers: used to buy special items
Plus 500k Gil Japan and OCE DC.

I am early in my programming journey and want to start building projects.
For example, I want to start playing around with some maths concepts, essentially coding a graph theory solvevisualizer and also maybe playing around with some other concepts.
The thing is, I only learned basic java in school, and the only UI library I am familiar with is JavaFX.
Sure, I could probably do what I want in JavaFX, but I wonder what is the value of this, since JavaFX is very rarely used in industry.
So I had the idea of making my graph theory visualizer on a website, as creating a website that could be used by students to help with their math problem would showcase that I am able to create a product that has real world utility.
So I set myself on this path of learning javascript, CSS, HTML and React and now that I am a third trough a React book, I ask myself the following question:
Am I putting too much energy on learning something that is not really close to my interests?
Throughout my studies, I found that I am mostly interested by maths and physics. I now find myself spending all my time learning a technology that is not close to any of the potential career paths that interest me (graphics programming, machine learning, physics simulations) just because I want to make my dumb maths project have a more practical aspect.
Am I wasting my time? Or is basic Web Dev a must for any kind of programmer?

Digital Codes Free and Request

Character Basics

Character Details

Character Persona

Other