So (25f) I got diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in october, but chronic pain has been part of my life since like age 10 (I grew super fast, am 5’10/5’11 ish). I’m just going to give some background to provide some context for my questions below:
I have a few comorbidities ADHD, depression, anxiety on the mental health side; chronic migraines, hypothyroidism (hashimoto’s but not full blown yet), a primary immunodeficiency, and I’ve gained a ton of weight (70 lbs in one year) with no lifestyle changes. It’s been a rough year. I’m on cymbalta and it mostly helps the pain but I hate how I feel on it (sweaty, more anxious, break through pain). My psychiatrist put me on cogentin to resolve the sweating but it makes my mouth extremely dry and I get dehydrated very easily.
Yesterday, I went to a Neurologist for the first time in a long time (athlete that got several concussions in adolescence, so I’ve been treated more on sports medicine side) because my migraines have been horrific lately along with some other concerning symptoms considering my age. She was great and ordered an MRI as well as a Spinal Tap/Lumbar puncture. She wasn’t too happy about the Cogentin or Cymbalta (bumped up to 60mg(?) in feb) for that matter. Mostly, I’m struggling cognitively these days (am in Grad school, so that’s been tough) and I hate being on all these different meds and supplements to boot.
I have a few questions:
1.) Has anyone had a spinal tap/LP? How did it go? Did it give you a flare?
2.) Has anyone else been on Cogentin? How did it impact you?
3.) How bad is coming off cymbalta? Has anyone figured out how to deal with it?
4.) How do you beat the brain fog/cognitive stuff?

This is a pretty long read but idk how else to explain it..
For context I’m a Male 23 and my gf Female 24 almost 25 and she just broke up with me out of nowhere after dating for almost 3 years.
Everything was perfect, we planned our life out with goals and aspirations, adopted a cat and a dog together and life was great. I was living in my college apartment finishing up school and she was living at home finishing up law school. We supported each other and both couldn’t wait to graduate and move out. We had the typical minor couple arguments but no major fights and no arguments for many many months leading up to it. I graduated a semester early and had a job lined up where I moved back home to Florida to work for 5 months to save up some money to start off on the right foot. She was set to graduate in May take the bar then go on for one more year the University of Florida. During the coming time at UF we discussed that we would look for rings and I would propose that fall (we both agreed and were super excited so we’re both of our parents) but… 2 days ago she calls me after work crying saying she having doubts about a wedding and getting engaged and that she cant be with me because of that and she dosnt want to but we need to be done. Apparently she’s been having these thought for almost 2 months prior but never mentioned it once while we were long distance. As you can imagine I was and still am devastated, this came out of absolutely nowhere and I can’t imagine what caused it.
The following day we both agreed to talk again that night because I was so confused and just wanted some answers and to really know if we were done of if it was some form of panic attack or something. That conversation went amazing she was open to listening about how we can work through this she thought we were going to be able to slowly work through whatever is causing this feeling and so did I. She said that conversation made her feel safe, relaxed, and confident again. Then ended with an I love you from both of us.
Well… this morning I get the “can we talk” text and I already know it’s bad. She says she thought about it and it just wasn’t going to work and it’s just prolonging the inevitable. She said that deep down she knew during yesterday’s conversation that she was just doing this to appease me. We both said our goodbye, wished each other the best, and talked about when we would take down social posts. We decided that we’ll do it the same time but as of now it’s just all too soon and neither of us want to “look single”. We both said I love you and hung up.
Important facts/info:

• she had a bf in hs for a short time and broke up with him before graduation.
• she had a bf in college for 3 years and broke up with him right after graduation.
• she broke up with me a few days after law school graduation
  
• their is definitely not some other guy out there, ik her and the guilt would be just too much and she would tell me.
  
• she mentioned that she dosnt know why and wish’s she could just be like it’s this or that but she honestly said she don’t know
  
• she wants to “be their for each other” if anything happens.(if that even means anything)
  

This is just so hard and painful right now because there were no signs leading up to this and we both were so excited about the future.
In my personal opinion I think she has a deeper physiological issue where her brain has convinced her that before a big change she needs to push people away and even if her heart dosnt want too she convinces herself anyway. Idk what that means for me or our future at all but I’m extremely heartbroken about everything and still so confused…

Hi,
I'm looking for a recommendation for Podiatrist specialist that does Cryosugery in Seattle area. I've been diagnosed with MS about 3 months ago after experiencing severe pain on the balls of my right foot between the forth and third finger. I've been getting cortisone shots every 3 weeks. It works for about a week and then the pain returns. I just got my 4th injection yesterday, we agreed to try supporting it this time around with wide toe box shoes, fitted orthotics, padding, toe spacer. I have another evaluation scheduled for 3 weeks from now, if the pain doesn't improve he will refer me to a surgeon because my only next option is surgery to remove the neuroma. I'm really scared to go for this option because I've so many horror stories of people regretting getting it and that it didn't help or even gotten worse. I'm also anxious of the recovery process. I'm a mom of 3 young kids and active person, on my feet all day and I do a lot of sports. I've heard of some recommendations for doing Cyro Surgery as a non invasive procedure. Can someone recommend a doctor in Seattle area that preforms the surgery? Also if anyone has any experience undergoing this procedure? I'm so sad and depressed. I've been going through traumatic personal loss and grief and the thought of being disabled, losing my mobility to even walk without pain is so overwhelmingly terrifying.
Thanks, Natalie.

O
“World Beasts… are innately different to humans and other forms of 'life'. Those created in the Goddess’s image are bound only by fate and time, able to lead their own destiny if they will it so. For us, it’s different. We are born with a function in mind — a purpose. Sometimes it’s clear, sometimes it’s not.
I still have no clue why Har-Meggidos was created.”

• Reginn Magina, World Beast, when asked about World Beasts

With a crash, the oceanic tentacles crushed the ground with ease, destabilizing the heroes. However, this attack was simply countered by the warrior, who simply diced the surrounding hundred paces with a single swing of her blades. The massive chunks of octopus-like flesh fell to the earth with a thud, and the World Beast screamed in agony.
Sacrosanct was still unsure whether to engage or not — whether this was his battle to fight. Such indecisiveness faltered his flames, but noticing that Blodelshein was about to be crushed by one of the chunks, he quickly pushed her out of the way with a dive but got squashed into a bloody pulp himself.
“Sacrosanct!”
While the white-haired girl continued the battle, Sacrosanct soon lifted the mass, covered in his own blood. The hero spat out a dozen teeth from his mouth, though they soon healed back thanks to his flames. Now he was truly fired up.
However, he was not quite ready yet. It would take a few more steps to enter the ‘LIMITLESS’ state.
The dual-wielding warrior ran up Tiamat’s right arm while massively damaging it along the way. The light katana moved like a needle, while the longsword swung like a hammer; the two weapons synergized in a negative tempo, creating a dissonance of destruction.
Meanwhile, Sacrosanct stretched, ran in place, push-ups, sit-ups, jumping-jacks, all in impossibly quick succession. His heart rate began to increase rapidly, and so did the fire surrounding him.
The golden-eyed swordswoman was able to stab the World Beast Directly in its forehead, and while it caused excruciating agony and great damage, it was still not yet enough as roots sprouted from the wound and knocked her all the way to the ground, where a wooden spike much larger than she awaited.
Meanwhile, Sacrosanct began to sing to himself… No, he created rhythms. Songs? Humming? It was strange how he seemed to be listening to something in his head, but it was somehow working as his flames grew multiple times in size.
The girl quickly turned to face the ground using the weight of her swords, and in the split second before contact, her blades cut the spike directly in half, landing in its new crevice. However, the broken spike was then coiled in vines, and was shut in a matter of microseconds by the pressure surrounding it, and the hero was forced to struggle to keep herself uncrushed.
Meanwhile… Sacrosanct was finally ready — with just one more step. Now he took a good look at his enemy, the colossal demonic titan, much stronger than him; of course, he could beat her. He was Sacrosanct. With this newfound confidence, the hero began to concentrate the massive flame surrounding him toward himself, compressing the heat. Soon, a massive flash of light blinded the spectators, including Tiamat, and from the blinding light emerged Sacrosanct. The hero was now surrounded by an electrical storm running throughout his body, as well as blue flames contrasting with the previous red. He was not just any other hero, he was THE hero. He was Sacrosanct.
“Alright, bring it on!”
Tiamat could not fully gauge the hero’s strength and instead chose to finish the girl off by crushing her completely with her fist. However, as she turned her attention away, the World Beast was suddenly kicked in the face, snapping her massive head instantly. He was fast.
The World Beast quickly composed herself and healed her neck. Demonic spiders began to emerge from her wings; perfect for dealing with pests. However, Sacrosanct was no mere fly, and he began to easily set the spiders ablaze with his contagious flame, which then spread to the World Beast’s hair.
“Let’s go!”
While Tiamat was distracted by the flames, Sacrosanct lept from her shoulder directly toward the spike in which the katana-wielding hero was imprisoned. The sheer impact of cannonballing into the wooden structure was enough to blow it open, and the warrior was freed.
“You still haven’t told me your name yet!”
“...?”
The two looked up to see that Tiamat had already fully recovered. There must’ve been some way to kill her, for why else was she reincarnated?
“...Acata, could you tell us how you defeated her preciously?” asked Blodelshein in her native tongue.
The girl turned to find the source of the voice, but none lay in sight.
“I’m speaking to you telepathically. I’m afraid I won’t be much of a help — the demon lord has a powerful soul. Anyways, you said you met her before right? Then you must be the 15th hero, the one who defeated this demon lord. How did you do it?”
“...It was not I who killed Tiamat,” said Acata, “I suppose you could say that the entire world killed her.”
“...So you’re saying you lured her here without a plan to kill her?!”
“The plan is to slice and dice until it is done.”
“...”
It seemed that Blodelshein was surrounded by true warriors.
Now killing her was no longer an option, the best they could do would be to immobilize her until a method was found. However, things would not be so simple as Tiamat began to attack once again, interrupting the hero mid-thought.
A slit positioned directly at the centre of Tiamat’s breast opened like a vertical eye, and from the entrance began to stream a river of energy, the current of which soon turned into a torrent, then a storm. The energy began to form a sphere in the form of fire, like the heavenly ornament in the sky. The heroes could already feel its heat from the ground. As the World Beast began to power this attack, Sacrosanct came up with a brilliant plan — a Sacrosanct original.
“Alright, hero, I’ll neutralize this blast, then you attack her directly in that weird source — that must be her core or something!”
“...Fine.”
In the heat of the battle, language barriers can be fatal. As such, instead of listening to the words themselves, Acata decided to simply react to Sacrosanct’s action. Judging from his tone, it seemed that he had prepared a plan. Though she did not understand what his course of action would be, there was no other choice as the inevitability of decimation loomed over them.
Tiamat soon released the attack, and Sacrosanct released an attack of his own as well. All the flames surrounding him concentrated on his two fingers outstretched toward his target, leaving the rest of his body vulnerable and bare. As it was compressed into an atomic volume, it instantly flipped from a bright white to a blackhole void surrounded by dark lightning.
“Go!”
As the pseudo-sun continued to approach, the grass began to wilt and burn. However, neither Sacrosanct nor Acata moved an inch. Sacrosanct’s black hole was soon consumed by the flame, but Acata knew that his act was not yet over. The dark elf began to immediately calculate in his mind the time required for the sphere to reach the centre of Tiamat’s sun, and soon activated his spell:
“⌈Nuclear Starburst⌋!”
The black hole immediately increased a thousandfold in volume, completely enveloping Tiamat’s attack. It then folded in upon itself, erasing both attacks from existence. While Tiamat was shocked, Acata took no time to hesitate. She tested Sacrosanct’s theory by leaping a thousand paces into the air and plunging both her blades into Tiamat’s chest — the source of the strange energy.
As Blodelshein watched on from behind the rubble, she sincerely hoped that this would be the end. It did seem that the damage was massive, and the World Beast began to disintegrate as it wailed in pain. However, it soon clenched its teeth, and through its bloodied eyes, cast a desperate spell.
From the slit emerged a sphere — a flesh-pink, translucent sphere. Acata could see that her sword was stuck deep into it, and she could almost see inside, a small world. Like a minature garden, a microcosm…
A massive flash of light enveloped the area, and all three heroes were blinded. Through the brightness, however, Blodelshei,n could catch glimpses of stars passing by her, turning into lines, as if travelling through space.
Within the microcosm, three shooting stars — never seen before — entered the world.

First real love, first break up
I'm in my 30s and we met in our 20s. It was a LTR, engaged, family... all the works. It's been over a year and I'm doing so much better. It's true that healing takes time, but it takes continuous effort on your part. Pain is the best motivation to become a better person. Use the pain for the best glow up of your life. I know a lot of people talk about going to the gym, traveling, hobbies, spending time with family/friends.. but don't neglect your mental health. If you don't learn from your break up, you will repeat the patterns in your next relationship. Even if your ex was toxic/abusive, you had a part in the relationship too. I have learned that not everyone learns from heartbreak or grief. Most people a have a victim mentality and that prevents them from major growth. Lean into your emotions and dig deep.
After a good year and half of heartbreak, grief, and constantly working on myself, I'm a true believer of loving yourself before you can love someone else. I loved my ex tremendously and gave her my all, but after major reflection, it wasn't the capacity I truly had within me. I gave her the emotional capacity I had at the time, and it wasn't very much. All the tears I cried this past year is the love I didn't give her, and the tears I cry today, is the imaginary relationship we could have had if I knew what I know now. With that being said, I would go through the heartbreak again if it meant becoming the person I am today. I understand now that she wasn't meant to be my forever person. Our relationship was meant to teach a lesson about ourselves and I'm so glad I took the opportunity. I needed this major growth to love myself and see my worth. I know I'll love deeper and harder in my next relationship.
I actually bumped into my ex and I realized she didn't grow. She dumped me and she moved onto someone else. She doesn't see her faults and she still has a victim mentality. I realized after bumping into her that she wasn't for me and I was so wrong about her. What I want in a relationship now is so much different than what I wanted when I was with her. I'm not going to lie though, I got jealous that she moved on while I've been in the trenches. I was devastated when I found out it was only a few months after the break up, while I was still holding onto hope. I got jealous when I found out she's moving in with her new person so suddenly and they are doing things together that I've always wanted to do with her. It hurts. But comparing yourself to your ex does no good. All that does is bring more pain. The truth is that you are on different paths and what they do is no longer your concern.
After more than a year, I'm not 100% healed, but I'm coming to terms that she will always hold a special place in my heart. The pain I carry now is more about loneliness and abandonment wounds than it does about being with her. We are just not meant to be together. What held me back the most was hoping she would return. I was so in love with her and I wanted her so badly, that I was blinded by it. Even though she ignored all my messages, never reached out, never checked my social media, or gave any hint she wanted me back.... I kept hoping. I entertained thoughts of getting back together. I assumed she was in pain just as much as I was. That hope kept me back. If I had any advice to give, I highly suggest keeping no contact and completely focus on yourself. Dive into healing yourself. Your thoughts are WRONG about them. Learn how to redirect your thoughts or challenge them through CBT.
I'm in a place now where I'm okay being single and dating scares me, but I'm putting myself out there. I've been on a few dates and even though nothing has stuck, I've met a few women who align with who I am today. One of the biggest things I want in my next relationship is emotional availability and a deep understanding of grief. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't understand the loss of a loved one or having experience major growth. I want to be with someone who can take accountability for their actions instead of victimizing themselves. My ex wasn't those things during our relationship and if she doesn't want to take the time to grow from our relationship or see my worth, that's her loss. After so much therapy, self-improvement, and diving deep into psychology and relationships... I am a needle in a haystack and whoever ends up with me will have the golden ticket.
I understand how hard it is to lose someone you love. It's so hard and some days it feels like you can't make it. I'm here to tell you that you can get through it. You can push through. Take each day at a time. Take advantage of the pain and use it to grow. Become a better version of yourself and show up for YOURSELF in ways you haven't before. Don't go back to your ex. You will find love again. You have so much worth and you are deserving of love.

Hello, everyone. 35M with Chiari 1 of “only” 3-4mm diagnosed at 17 years old with MRI due to headaches that later resolved. Subsequent scans in 2022 and 2024 revealed that the size has remained constant. Throughout the years, I literally forgot I had it due to a lack of symptoms and/or conflating the symptoms with Bipolar 1/ADHD and treatment side effects. In 2022, I had an onset of neuropathy with a job I took that had me bending over repeatedly. I remembered the Chiari at that time and got referred all the way to neurosurgery but was never able to go due to a move. Symptoms subsided again. I was on lithium, which I later learned increases ICP. I had jumpy vision (I described it as fast-forward vision) which was terrifying and for which I suspected mania, not knowing it has to do with Chiari. I had some photophobia that mostly occurred at night when seeing police lights and I assumed it was perhaps epileptiform activity, still knowing essentially nothing about Chiari. Went to a NUCCA chiropractor, at which point the photophobia became severe and permanent and I no longer drive, except on totally cloudy days, and even then with great difficulty. My symptom is silent headaches with immediate onset of dysphagia that goes away when I force myself to swallow and remove the trigger. It is still extremely debilitating and causes a panic attack basically every time because despite having never had a seizure except ECT, I still assume that that’s what’s going on and that I have to quickly to prevent it. When I finally got an EEG to try to rule out epileptiform activity it came back normal with no epileptiform activity, but admittedly, I was on a low dose of 300 mg of lithium (an anti-epileptic) because it seemed to help the headaches I was having at the time so I’d like to discuss whether that could’ve thrown the test with a medical provider. When the photophobia began, I also tried eyeglasses and have also tried several kinds of glasses for reducing photophobia, as well as greenlight therapy. Green light triggered headaches but going to get a dimmer to see if it helps.
I stay in dark rooms and get motion sick from the motion of tree shadows coming through the window (the intermittence of tree shadows and sunlight driving is my main photophobia trigger driving), screens in general, especially TV flashes on the walls. I’ve been unable to comply with CPAP therapy due to it making my whooshing tinnitus worse and me waking with a jerk right as I’m falling sleep, but I’m going to try harder to push through the waking reactions despite needing Seroquel nightly for sleep. I was already facing functional or total disability because of the Bipolar but now hopefully Chiari is some of the picture and I can regain some function. Phone calls, zoom calls, especially speak phone are difficult too. Because of pitch-dependent noise sensitivity. Car motors and other repetitive and sound sounds are also instant triggers. At the peak, was having bad phonophobia with onset of panic and weakness that felt like a blood sugar crash when planes and big trucks would pass, and only after hearing them consciously after the initial reaction did I understand what was going on.
I’m coming to the end of a course of physical therapy (with an emphasis on longer-term posture correction) with dry needling that definitely helped, and the one night that I was able to sleep with the CPAP seem to clear up a lot of the headache symptoms and some of the photophobia as well. The sudden onset of the photophobia has me concerned and I don’t want it to be permanent or worsen and I’d like to drive again. Also off of all meds, including psych meds because everything seems to cause this same silent headache with some crawling tingling around face and head and pressure behind eyes, and in brain stem and neck, plus overwhelm and a feeling of “shutdown” in the brain with dysphagia, severe dissociation—Lithium and Depakote did this, to my recollection, though they initially helped pain when I had that and I only tried a crumb—as is now typical—of Topamax with the same result of severe dissociation and panic. Admittedly, my problems with these panic attacks started when I had too much cannabis one time without prior experience but now Chiari seems to be a complicating factor and it’s hard to know whether ICP and Chiari stuff or panic is at work in these reactions definitively, but I also tried Gabapentin recently and it didn’t cause association just some calm with a reduction of muscle pain but an increase in Chiari symptoms on at least one occasion besides messing up the functioning of my sleep meds. I was adjusting my meds pretty frequently at one point and suspected them in the photophobia for a long time as well, but I’ve been off of all meds for probably four months now. I also have visual snow and nystagmus at night, when reading and I just catch it general when I’m outside—my eyes don’t know what to focus on and jump around and taking longer to focus the last several days.
I’m trying to get a neurosurgery appointment with Dr. Judy Huang at John Hopkins, besides trying to get CPAP to work and I’m curious about mild traction. It seems to help me when done rightly, but I know there are conflicting reports here about it and that it’s pretty individualized. Sometimes when therapies I try seem to be going poorly, perhaps I quit it too soon, but sometimes I gaslight myself and tell myself to try harder and push through bad reactions. There’s only so much I can do about severe dissociation and panic attacks and no one around me gets it but thankfully, my providers are fairly understanding. What else should I try between now and then? Thanks for listening to the rant. Please weigh in if it connects with your experience!
P.S. Certain things I try like rolling my neck and very light traction (tried some as we speak!) make me feel worse in the short term and then better afterwards maybe because the CSF is still settling or my brain is adjusting to changes in pressure, etc. It appears at this time the headache is much better and the tingles have moved to different parts of the head and it’s generally of a different character with the visual changes being different perhaps since the underlying structures shifted position. Ibuprofen helps and sipping caffeine does but it’s a mania trigger. Nothing rids me of the photophobia. I am able to go the gym with its fluorescent lights again after physical therapy whereas I used to do so only with sunglasses. Still spending all day avoiding triggers and recovering from them.

I think I just need to vent this somewhere.
I have dinner plans tonight with a group of women, most from an online group and a couple I’ve met in person.
I feel sick to my stomach about going and on top of that, I have some symptoms lingering from a recent concussion and now I’m stressing and fearing these symptoms are something else or worse.
I don’t drive (because of multiple concussions) so I would drive to the restaurant with one of them. That really freaks me out too since I feel a huge loss of control, I do feel safe with the arrangement.
I don’t know if I should cancel and rest and take care of my physical symptoms or push through the discomfort and pain and try and go.
It’s very far from my town and I can’t Uber back home so I would be stuck there even if my symptoms worsen. Currently I still get headaches, dizziness and nausea from the concussion and I have extreme nerve pain on my left side, specifically neck and ear (these are the symptoms I’m also stressing about).
I’ve written out all my worries and countered them with solutions but I still feel I overwhelmed.
I used to be a social person until I immigrated 8 years ago and I’ve struggled to make friends in the new country ever since so I rarely see anyone but my partner and mostly only leave the house for medical appointments. (I’ve had an unfortunate 5 years filled with 3 accidents and also have a bunch of illnesses that makes life in general more painful and difficult for me.)
I desire more than anything to be social and build a larger group of friends but I’m so scared if I go out the loud area might damage the ear that’s already in a lot of pain and not sure if it’s more than just nerve pain or I’ll have a panic attack or get a migraine and be stuck in an unfamiliar place. (There’s no taxi services to my town so I’m reliant on the other person when they leave or my partner to get me but my partner is working a double shift)
I’m also not sure if the physical symptoms are just that or if the anxiety is making it way worse than it is.
TLDR: extremely anxious about going out tonight and also feel physically sick, and I really want to build a social circle but too scared to go

My best friend and I met at work and have been tight from the get go. I have stuck by her side through a lot of shit and helped her through a lot of shit. I could have had her arrested a couple of times because she has gotten abusive over the last year. She will drink too much get blacked out and start screaming in my ear and hitting and pushing me ext. About a month ago she even bit my arm because I used my forearm to push her out of my face. I have given her rides everywhere given her money helped her and bought her food and paid her bar tabs ext. All of our mutual friends know she is the aggressor and no one understands why I stay. Frankly I don’t either I guess it’s because I don’t abandon my friends. She has gotten herself booted from a couple bars for her getting ridiculous and hitting me.
She got a new boyfriend recently and I am guessing he is threatened by me and by our relationship and is very controlling and been trying to isolate her away. He wanted all the time and so we gave it to him with me and other friends getting one day a week to hangout with her. He met her when we were at one of the bars we go to and essentially only tried to speak to her when I wasn’t around her which was red flag number one. Then come to find out he lives in a shed works maybe one day a week can’t pay his bills and drives a moped without a valid drivers license since he got pulled over and now has a court date.
Anyways we hangout Wednesday and it went perfectly up until he was in her phone saying shit like oh you have been out for six hours you need to come home right now and blowing up her phone and shit. And then he showed up to the bar and refused to talk to her in front of the glass doors were we could see her to make sure she was okay. And his excuse was he came up to make sure she was ok, like bro we have been around her and with her for three years and nothing bad has happened. He wasted forty minutes with this and he finally left after she told him no repeatedly.
Fast forward to Thursday night/morning I start experiencing pretty bad chest pain at home and the ambulance takes me to the er and then I am transferred to a different hospital. Had a mild heart attack saying stress and other shit contributed . Tried talking to her and shit and she is being distant and finally said she has a lot to think about.
I am still in the hospital and going to get released tomorrow.
I told her today I am not going to let her try to hang this nonsense over my head and stress me out further and she had until tonight to decide. And then on Monday we can just meet up and she can pay me back all the money she owes me and give me my things back.
Already to the conclusion she doesn’t actually care and never did more so when she is doing this while I am in the hospital.
She just took advantage of me and is now getting rid of me. It hurts a lot but I guess it’s a lesson learned.

(Premise: Kassandra stays loyal, she was helped with her condition regarding visions by her sister Sanguinia with whom she grew close.)

Feathers

“-andra! Kassandra, damn you, help me!” called Regalia. It was so unlike her.
Night Hauntress’ sister knelt next to their Father’s mutilated body. Ignoring all pleas, Kassandra went past the bleeding Emperor and came up to another body lying on the floor of Vengeful Spirit.
Constillation of rubies, Great Angel’s blood covered her blindingly white wings, horrifically decorated her beautiful face. Painting of gold, white and red, Kassandra Curze saw the world in wide strokes of brush, unable to perceive what she saw before her eyes. Unwilling to perceive. Night Hauntress stood there, staring at Sanguinia’s body, her eyes just gazing in nothingness. She never noticed as her Praetorian sister left, holding the Emperor of Mankind under arms.
Lagging units finally caught up to them, entering the sanctum. Warriors from Regalia’s Fists, their Father’s personal guard, Kassandra’s own Atramaentar.
Why did you come? she wanted to ask, The battle is over.
No one dared to come closer to the Night Hauntress as she froze over the Angel. Only Jago made a few steps, approaching the moveless figure of his Mother. Blood Angels were nowhere to be seen, while sounds of rampaging battle were coming closer to the sanctum.
Sudden scream of agony woke Kassandra from this trance. She turned to see the source of the sound. One man, whose height was so unnaturally smaller than that of super-humans he was surrounded by. Young man’s body twitched and squirmed in pain, as he grasped his head, covering eyes, as if trying not to see, pulling hair, as if trying not to think.
Ah, that mortal Sanguinia fancied, the thought was so mundane, it almost seemed as she simply met him in one of Red Tear’s golden corridors, she called him Dove, as I recall. Why is he weeping?
Figure of similar stature came up to Dove. Morgenstern placed a hand on the grieving man’s shoulder. Impression persisting on the assassin's face was impenetrable, but those standing close to him could notice as knuckles on his hand whitened.
Curze once again turned, returning gaze to her beloved sister. The only sister Kassandra could call beloved, even if she was shrugging, doing so. The only sister she wanted to call sister at all. Night Hauntress lowered herself, coming closer to Angel’s face.
You must be tired, she thought, your battle lasted for too long.
In one swift and tender motion Kassandra closed her sister’s eyes.
Night Hauntress stood up. Only now she noticed another figure lying on the deck. Her other sister sprawled dead in the puddle of liquefied flesh and blood, only her bare skull showing from terminator armor. As she slowly came up to Warmistress’ corpse, Kassandra's blank face finally changed, a mask of utter disdain and rage distorting Night Hauntress’ face. Long seconds passed until she moved again.
Loud crunch filled the sanctum, as Kassandra Curze lowered her boot.

***

“No.”
“Listen, you–”
“Ceremony protocol has already been decided. You’ll be near her as everyone else.”
Why, once in your damned life, why can’t you stop being an accursed wall of rockcreat bricks?! Kassandra Curze wanted to scream on top of her lungs, as she faced Praetorian of Terra. Night Hauntress wanted to strike her sister down right here and there, she wanted to keep punching this dull stone face, until it would turn into a bloody mush.
She could never understand, thought Kassandra bitterly, I doubt she ever tried.
Image of the past, image of Sanguinia, laughing at something that had seemed funny to her in Night Hauntress words, flashed Kassandra’s mind. She lowered her gaze, trying to hold her composure. Not for herself, but for someone who would be greatly disappointed in her, if she didn’t.
“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, then I shall leave”, Regalia turned, starting to walk away, “I have still many things to ate–”
“Wait!” Kassandra growled.
She dashed, catching her sister’s shoulder. Suddenly, an agonizing flash burned her mind. It was the second time her mind was attacked by a vision of a torn off hand, drifting in space among the debris. As Night Hauntress twitched in pain, she grabbed her head pushing nails deep into skin, trying to dull the vision.
Regalia turned back, embers of blazing anger started to appear in her eyes.
“Ngh–” Kassandra slightly groaned, trying to compose herself.
She managed to stand straight and, heavily breathing, looked in Regalia’s eyes.
“Re– Sister, please, it has to be me”, for the first time Unyielding One saw Night Hauntress to plead, and to plead so sincerely.
For some long moments they looked each other in the eyes, but now Regalia’s contained no fire. She saw something new in those purple eyes. Where previously lived only bitter irony and despair, now flickered determination.
Praetorian’s face softened up, enough only for the primarch to notice. Silent nod answered Kassandra’s plea.

***

Holding Angel in her arms, Kassandra Curze stepped into the biggest ceremonial hall on Terra. The biggest that wasn’t ruined by the Siege.
The hall seemed endless, countless caryatids supporting the enormous dome of the building, that became a new sky for all those present here. Images of marble and gold covered walls of the hall, images of the Emperor's most glorious victories, most fruitful of his conquests. Seeing them anywhere her eyes could reach, Kassandra felt sick.
What a jest.
She directed her gaze forward. As endless was this hall, as countless were people present here today. All those who fought and survived the Siege, all those who did not make it on time, standards for all those who fell. From simple guardsman to finest warrior of Adeptus Astartes, all these men and women were here today for the guard of honour. The last guard of honour for her who rested in Kassandra’s arms. Honour that could never be enough.
Complete silence. Complete silence surrounded Night Hauntress as she walked forward, only sounds echoing through the space being her own steps and steps of the two Astartes, Night Lord and Blood Angel, carrying Imperial and Blood Angel’s standards. Kassandra felt as if time slowed down the more steps she took.
As she went closer to the stairs of rockcreat podium, Imperial Guard at her sides changed with space-marine legions. Their halved number still seemed as something surreal to her. Night Hauntress knew her Father’s actions will lead to unspeakable tragedy, but to see it herself was something different.
The last of the Astartes were Blood Angels. Five hundred of the entire legion. All that left after the cursed insanity that consumed them. As Kassandra went past and came up to the stairs, with thunderous sound, five hundred warriors knelt in the final personal sign of honour to their Mother. Two Astartes behind Night Hauntress followed them, staying kneeling at the bottom of podium stairs.
Kassandra made a step up. And then another. As she made more steps up that damned stairs, she felt weaker and weaker, as if life itself was sucked out of her body. She did not understand this. All since the battle on Vengeful Spirit, Night Hauntress felt empty, and now an unfamiliar feeling was filling her, as she looked down at her sister's face.
Her sister was dead.
Kassandra felt a lump forming in her throat. She felt as if any other step she took could be the last before she collapses. But she could not allow herself this.
Fighting herself, Night Hauntress reached the top of the podium. She walked up to the stone bed, covered with finest silks, a red pillow laying on them looked as the softest and the most comfortable thing in the world. Kassandra never noticed other primarchs standing near.
Strength was leaving her, her whole existence trembled as she lowered Angel onto the crimson bed.Kneeling of the countless thousands of people shook the ceremonial hall. Kassandra held out a trembling hand to touch Angel’s face, to get one final moment with her sister.
And then she felt something. Something so familiar. Something so similar to Sanguinia playfully brushing Kassandra’s cheek with her wing, once again annoyed with her sister’s fatalistic nonsense.
Kassandra’s muscles finally gave in to her grief. She collapsed to her knees holding on to red silks.
And then the Dark Queen cried.

[FIRST][LAST]
Atlantis Commission
Officer Report - Lieutenant Colonel John Shepard
CLEARANCE LEVEL 5
Well this had definitely been a very interesting couple of hours. This dimension and its people had very odd opinions and ideas. Apparently the prey species of this dimension were all obligate cowards, whose instincts compelled them to be non-violent and run from threats. At least according to themselves. There were apparently some of them who were “predator diseased” as they called it, a disease which often resulted in increased violence, aggression, lack of empathy, and unheard like behavior. It sounded to me like some form of infectious psychopathy, but the venlil assured us it shouldn't affect us since we were predators, which didn’t really ease my fears, but hopefully it was something we could figure out when we got home if it ever became a problem.
Gotta love mandatory quarantine periods woo hoo!
As scary as this odd disease sounded, my main concern at the moment was to try and turn a professed coward into someone who could at the very least defend themselves.
I looked down to the table of gear ahead of me and then over to the mostly naked Venlil to my side, and then even farther to Tiel’c who thought It would be a good idea to help oversee Farva’s rapid fire training course. I fiddled with the bluetooth earpiece which was rigged up to one of our handhelds to run a translation program to speak directly with the captain. A big step up from our unknowingly one sided communications earlier.
I stepped on the other side of the plastic table and placed my hands down upon it and looked on at my new student..
“Welcome Captain Farva to our very impromptu accelerated course on Human arms armor and basic infantry tactics.” I said gesturing to the hodge podge gear we had managed to assemble for the good captain. “Are we ready to begin?”.
She flicked her ears, somewhat nervously by the looks.
“I’d take it that's a yes then?”
“Oh yes sorry”
“Alright then, well given that most of our crew is human and the only other alien struts around naked all the time, the only gear we have on hand is for humans, So you're going to be running size smalls and it's all going to fit all a bit big” I say as I toss her the tactical vest. ”Here try this on, we can try to tighten it up if it's a bit loose anywhere”. The captain wrestles with the buckles a bit, and Teal'c helps her tighten up some of the top straps, as the Venil’s shoulders weren't as broad as humans. Farva gave Teal’c an odd look, but seemed appreciative none the less.Once finished, she grasped the vest in her paws with interest. “This armor seems quite lightweight, which is nice, weight is often an issue that causes us to forgo armor, since heavy armor would hurt our running ability.” Farva remarks. “Also the sheer amount of pockets seems quite excessive, what do you need all these for?”
“Well for starters it's currently missing these '' I hand Farva one of the armor plates which she looks over. “That is a depleted Naquadria ceramic composite plate. It’s designed to stop bullet impacts and dissipate energy weapon blasts. It slots into that chest compartment in the front and back of your armor.”
“This isn't quite what Id imagine for the armor of your kind”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well judging by your ships I would have imagined you would put more emphasis on defense Your predatory nature would make you less likely to run away from conflict allowing for more encompassing armor to cover more than just your chest, since you have less need to run.”
She would put it like that.
“Well there are a number of reasons for that, a lot to do with those excess pockets you mentioned. For starters you will not be carrying the same amount of gear that the standard infantry unit would normally be carrying, we are preparing you for a quick in and out op. Normally us expedition teams need to be deployed into unknown territory for extended periods of time, we need to carry everything we might need with us from food, bullets, weapons, to comms gear, sensors, repelling equipment etc. The weight from all that gear adds up fast; In order to stay sufficiently mobile and combat effective; we only carry enough armor to protect our vitals, head and torso, anything else can hopefully be patched up by a field medic.”
Tielc gave his piece as well. “It is important to know when to run both towards and aways from one's foes, not every battle can be won through strength alone, but by strategy and cunning. Being able to reposition oneself quickly is therefore highly advantageous”
Farva seemed to freeze at Teal'c's statement, not out of fear I think, she instead had a distant look in her eye. To snap her out of her slump I handed her a standard ballistic helmet.
Seeming to get the idea she looked at it oddly and tried it on. It confirmed to her head shape decently well but depressed her ears to either side of her head, kind of resembling what one might imagine a sad bunny rabbit to look like “I don't think this will be something I can bring with me” she said ” I can't use ear signals and this will muffle my hearing.”
“Why don’t you keep it on for the time being, I think any extra hearing protection might be useful considering what we are about to try next.” I hand Farva some ballistic ear protectors, slightly modified and somewhat ramshackle. “One of the corporals worked closely with Nurse Fila to get an idea for safe decibels levels for your kind, we were also able to get these earbuds molded to fit into your ear canal better”
Farva took them and slipped them in. “These are a bit uncomfortable, what do I need these for?”
“You'll need them for this” I say as I unsnap the clasps on the weapons case revealing its contents.
The content seems to capture Farva’s interest, getting a slight tail wave.
“Okay So this here is a p90, It carries a 50 round top loading magazine of teflon coated armor piercing ordnance. With a cyclical rate of fire of 900 rounds per minute.”
Farvas ears perk up at this. “This seems like an efficient design, I take it these are a flashlight and laser sight for accuracy?” She asked, pointing to the top of the weapon.
“Yes we also have holographic and acog optics which will help line up targets from farther away.” I look on as Farva picks up the weapon and inspects it, testing the weight as I note that it will weigh a fair bit more once loaded. But she doesn't seem to be struggling with the weight. I can't help but notice good firearm safety as well, she keeps her finger well off the trigger and takes care to keep her weapon pointed aways from anyone else.
“This seems like a solid design but I'm not sure how useful those weapon optics would be, as they are not designed for my side facing eyes”
“I'm sure our master at arms can figure something out, why don't we give it a test fire first tho, before we send it off to make adjustments.” I instruct her on how to load the weapon and turn the safety off. I warn her of the sound it makes. And while definitely taken aback by the recoil and sound at first, she quickly gets the hang of it, she has some respectable shot groupings in both single fire and in short bursts. And keeps the rounds reasonably centered while firing in full auto.
She did a whole lot better than I would have initially suspected given her performance in the hanger bay a day before.
“The rate of fire seems useful” Farva spoke “This would be useful for our soldiers, our accuracy falters when we are panicked, and the increased shot count should guarantee some hits based on volume of fire alone” she finished with a dejected expression.
She quickly places the weapon back in its case, as if it burned to touch.” I don't know if I should be armed for this mission, at least not with that weapon, I don't want to miss and hit one of you in the back!”
“What? Nonsense, you are a great shot, and this is just a precaution in case we get separated or flanked and need some covering fire. If our guys are doing their job right you shouldn't need to fire a single round anyways.”
Captain Farva’s breathing started to hasten, earlier I might have thought it was fear, but I was starting to get an idea of what the captain's issues were. I’ve seen this before.
“I.. I can’t be trusted with this responsibility, every time I am left in charge of something, every time people put their lives in my paws I ....”
“Farva, don’t you start with me now you hear.” I said sternly, swiftly capping off her inevitable spiral of self doubt.
“But.. no.. you don’t understand”
Stopping her again I spoke. “But nothing, what happened before on that ship, and back at that colony is in the past. I don’t know your whole situation, but from what I have gathered from the crew It was nothing good. You feel responsible and it's eating away at you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if that's true or not. Accidents happen, people make mistakes, and when that happens we need to learn, take those lessons to heart, and don't let it stop us from helping people in the present. If you let guilt, or fear of mistakes stop you, then bad guys have already won, all without having to have fired a shot”
Farva is quiet for a short time, I was hoping I got through to her, I'm not the best and pep talks and this certainly wasn’t your typical weapons demo, if only everyones could go as smoothly as Ronan’s.
Farva spoke quietly, arms pressed up against her chest, she looked so sad, defeated, and small. Well more than usual anyways. “We can't be strong like you humans, we are too emotional and when we are scared we run away or we lock up and...”
“And that is clearly not the case with you captain Farva” Teal’c finally reentered the conversation having heard enough. “You have shown courage with every action you have taken so far, your actions have saved the lives of many of your crew, every time you have been threatened you acted not just to protect yourself but others as well. You attempted to contend with beings many times your size without even thinking about it, all in the effort to protect others, and this is only in the time we have known you, this speaks nothing of your actions over the colony. You are a warrior of admirable courage Captain Farva, your self doubt is unearned.”
A single tear rolled down Farva’s eyes which she quickly wiped away. “That was very nice of you to say, but I'm not brave like you say, I was terrified out of my mind the whole time.”
Teal’c looked puzzled. “I did not call you brave, I said you were courageous.”
Farva shot back with the little venlil one up one down ear flick I had very quickly learned was confusion.” I'm confused you just said brave twice”
“Hmm it appears your language does not contain the word I am using, I apologize I am not used to speaking through a translator” Teal’c relented “ There are two words I am using admittedly in slightly different forms, bravery and courage. Bravery or to be brave is to lack fear, to not be afraid to begin with. Courage tho, Is a trait far more admirable. Courage is to be afraid, to have fear, to worry about one's own mortality and personal safety. It is to acknowledge risk, danger, to feel fear, but to act in spite of it.”
“Had I not met your kind before I would have thought predators don't feel fear.”
“Everyone fears feel Farva, It is how we overcome it that determines our worth as warriors”
Teal’c picks up the p90 and returns it to Farvas hands.
“Your people need a warrior Farva, a warrior who protects the innocent and guides the lost to safety. You have shown how collected you can be in the heat of battle, You have already proven your worth in our eyes Farva, now you must do the same in your own. The greatest enemy lies not without” Teal’c places his hand firmly on the venlil’s chest “But within”.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Chief Engineer Donu
I fiddled with my holopad, Its small surface area proving to be a consistent source of annoyance in my current endeavor. Gone was the large workspace afforded to me by my holotable back in my office. Instead I had to work with the scaled down portable holotablet I was just fortunate enough to have strapped to my person when I was beamed away from our last ship. I was stuck with its smaller keyboard and slower rendering speeds.
An annoyed smooth skin alien looked over my shoulder at my device, attached to it was a jury rigged fiber optic cable, slotted into a terran silicon to crystal patch cable, which would convert the electrical signals broadcasted by my tablet into a bandwidth that the terrans crystalline based computers; which they used for highly complex tasks like hyperdrive and transporter systems; could use, and then It was patched again in a even stranger connector to patch into the odd asgard computer stones.
All in all it looked like someone tried to plug a regular computer into some crystal construct like you would find in a fantasy holonovel, and again plugged that into a harchen heat rock sauna lounge. Finally branching out from this conglomeration was a simple copper based wire that connects to a computer terminal at which currently sat the late Doctor Rodney Mckay. A title upon initially hearing led me to believe he was a medical doctor, which led to a flurry of medical questions that he had absolutely no means of answering.
While this odd alien nomenclature was interesting, what intrigued me more was his actual area of expertise, theoretical astrophysics, as well as a number of other diverse specialties and fields. Not to mention not only was he a great scientist who had he been raised in the more civilized portion of this galaxy, would have knowledge and aptitude that would put him alongside some of Aafas greatest minds, but he was also an engineer without peer, at least in this galaxy. His interactions with general Samantha Carter hinted at her possibly being his match if not more. For a species that was supposed to glorify violence the decision to have a scientist be arguably the most senior member of what was by their admission a military vessel spoke to their commitment to knowledge and understanding, a very noble prey-like goal.
I looked warily at the lines of code at my screen, the asguard translation program had earlier scanned our ship and was able to parse written languages, but complex files, like images and 3d design schematics were harder to encode and decode from our perspective systems. As is stands we have 3 completely separate computer architectures, the asguard can talk to human computers and the venlil computers can talk to the asguard computers, It sounds like we would have everything we need to get a human C.A.D schematic into a venlil holotablet right? Wrong! And you're stupid for entertaining such a idiotic notion! Parsing text from raw binary is relatively straight forward, you're just looking for patterns, repeating bit combinations that might infer letters and then iterating them over millions of times looking for patterns, letters, words, and then with a bit of help from some undecoded analog audio transmission, spoken language. This is a far cry from actual procedural communication protocols,the ones that allow for file transfers, exactly what we needed if we were to get Rodney's redesigned part schematics into a format and medium that can be plugged into a suitable fabricator. Assuming one still exists, which I can reasonably assume it does.
Speaking of which, I have just made something of a breakthrough. For upon my screen appears a simple geometric hydrogen cube, we’re talking vertices, planes, material data, everything we need for a usable design file.
I let out an excited pent up yip, the culmination of hours of frustrating software integration work. Unfortunately I startled Rodney, who lets out a panicked gasp and clutches his chest pelts with one of his paws.
“Oh god…..” He gasps, pointing at me “Please.. don’t do that”
“Sorry!” I say a bit meekly. I slowly approach him so as to not make him unnecessarily uncomfortable and show him my work.
“I got the file exchange set up, all we need from you is to finish any modifications to your part, upload them to my holopad, and then we can print away at any class 3 or above fabricator we can scrounge up on Brayga colony.”
“Ok.. um.. got it, I'm almost done i’m just you know” He points a lone grasping appendage at his screen,”Running some simulations, making sure everything is up to spec.” keeping his response kurt. “Sorry for freaking out there.”
I nod my head in the human display of affirmation and return to my workstation to further bug check my work, to test potentially problematic edge cases for when he finishes. Tho Rodney's continued odd behavior intruded on my thoughts.
I should have felt empowered, being able to intimidate this ‘massive beast’, but I didn't. I didn't like being feared, his people have been nice to me, Rodney himself courteous to a fault and desperate for positive attention.
I thought I could expect predators to be fearless but that clearly wasn't the case, rodney was fearful, nervous, had I not known better I would say defective, and while it annoyed his crew, they didn't berate him for it, or attempt to assert dominance, they encouraged it even with placating words and tried to help him through it, they encouraged and supported him like a proper herd, even if sometimes it took the form of what the human would call a playful ribbing. I supposed I could help him as well.
I approached him again, careful to make my approach known to him, making sure to approach from within his limited field of vision. He looks up at me with a wide eyed glare, had I not known him I might have assumed it was hunger, but I did and knew it to be concern.
“Uh high Donu.. um whats up?”
“Why are you afraid of us rodney?”
“Wa-What, me afraid?” he gives out a panicked laugh ”uh no no, I'm not afraid, you know just a bit weirded out I'm just getting used to you all, it's not a fear thing it's a a…. Just getting used to new aliens thing, ask Hermirod we went through this whole song and dance right buddy”
Hermirod furrowed his brow and gave an irritated sigh from across the room.
I reached out to take Rodney by the paw.
His whole body flinched at my mere touch, I quickly withdrew my paw.
“Oh.. um.. I didn't…”
“Rodney! It's okay, your crew doesn’t seem to care when you show fear, and neither do I. Why are you afraid of us? You are almost twice our size and surely double our strength, most venlil would scream and run in terror at the mere sight of you. What's wrong?”
Rodney let out a sigh. “Oh its, we don't have to talk about this, I can deal with this, I deal with scary situations all the time, it's fine, I'll be fine.”
“Rodney, my people are a very emotional, empathic people, we are open with our feelings and with our fear, and the fear of the one can affect the herd, please let me help you. I don’t know what to expect from your society but I promise I wont judge you for your fear or emotions, I mean look at many of my crew mates, we are no one to judge”
Rodney shot back “You didn't seem to be so bothered”
“I’m too old to care, I was about to retire, hell I was about to die as far as I knew, Brayga colony was supposed to be a quiet place to lay back, work on some hobbies, plant a garden and pester the young men of my colony until I either dropped dead of boredom or got lucky” I joked.
That seemed to raise Rodney's mood somewhat. He sighed and seemingly relented.
“It’s… a dumb story, I don't even know why it affected me so much, I come from a place on earth called Canada, people don't usually believe me when I say I am from there, us Canadians are notoriously friendly and I guess I haven’t exactly filled that mold for a lot of my life, but hey I'm working on it, people like me, I have lots of friends back at Atlantis” He says the last sentence in a way as if it isn't me he's trying to convince.
“I'm sure you do, Rodney, You seem like quite the charming individual when you're not cowering!”
“Ha ha thanks, maybe you could come and visit sometime. Tell that to doctor Becket, really nice guy, smart man, he would love to meet you, he loves investigating new species. But back on topic, oh boy, so me and my sister Jeannie were on a family trip to rural Vancouver to visit my grandpa's farm, he kept a lot of goats, not for eating or anything, they were essentially pets that he would use for milk”
“Wait hold on? You drink milk from other animals! Do your females not produce enough milk for their young?”
“Oh um no, we just sort of drink it or ferment it into cheese!”
“Ferment? You mean spoil?
“Yeh”
I reeled from this plasma blast of a statement, I like any right minded venlil had a number of nightmares about being an arxur’s cattle before, especially when I first learned about those things in primary school, but never once had it crossed my mind that we could be used for something so weird. What the speh was I supposed to do with that information?
“Maybe you should get back on topic”
“Yeh sorry about that uh.. Anyways the momma goat had just had a litter of babies, and their real cute when their little, so late in the day when my grandpa was asleep we snuck out to the pens so we can play with the little baby goats, our grandpa told us not to but you now how kids are.”
At this I think back to a young Nyan, as I teach him the inner working of the hyperdrive, I tell him he’s not cleared yet to operate in this engine compartment alone, but I could tell from the occasional caught black hairs and dropped writing implements, there had been a number of curious unauthorized expeditions into its inner workings, he didn't really listen either.
“My sister as always was trying to be the voice of reason, wanting to take it slow. If I was paying attention I might have noticed the angry moma goat who didn’t appreciate the strange human messing with her children.”
The color seemed to drain from his face.
“I uh…” He began to stutter again ”I screamed, a lot, it was rather undignified, she ran right at me, thank god it wasn't a male goat, one with horns, I tired to run but I was hit in the back and knocked over and kicked real good in the head, like wake up in the vet clinic a quarter mile down the road kind of bad”
“This goat was a prey animal?”
“That would be what your kind focuses on”
“Oh sorry”
“Anyways It seems dumb but I have just never been good with animals since then, especially ones that look like you; no offense; I'm getting better but when I first saw you guys in the hangar bay, I was just that dumb kid again, getting in way over my head, scared for my life. I guess there is something to be said about childhood trauma. I really should be over this, I'm getting better with it I swear it’s just”
I take his paw again, he doesn't flinch this time.
“I'm a venlil, a prey animal, I know fear, I know what it is to live in fear, It rattles your brain, it turns your paws to wet grains. It takes great strength to overcome it, to push it aside just long enough to protect the herd. Your herd relies on you Rodney and you are doing a great job in spite of your fear, in spite of having to work with those you fear. You have achieved intellectual feats that rival the greatest minds of the federation and all that while struggling with a traumatic experience. Fear isn’t dumb and there is nothing wrong with you for feeling it.”
“Thank you” Rodney says “That means a lot, I won't be like forever I promise, I just need some time.”
“We will laugh about this someday,” I assured. “Nothing as big and intelligent as you should be afraid of anything”
“Are you calling me fat?” Rodney exclaimed with fake offense.
We both chuckled.
My kind words had resulted in a more upright posture, and a more cheerful demeanor from the human, almost like when I congratulated Nyan on his work, and it got me a look at that happy snarl of his, that I was starting to grow quite fond of.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Apprentice Engineer Nyan
Oh wow! I get to write a report for this mission! I never get to write reports, Donu says they're too boring, but there’s so many interesting things going on all the time. Sometimes I sneakily write my own! Just for fun of course, nobody sees them, which is probably for the best as I sometimes get excited and embellish them slightly. One of the reports I wrote was about the time Donu used nothing but a wad of electrical tape, a bottle of high grain venlil alcohol and a pocket knife to repair a venlil medical ship just in time to get out of the way of a big scary space predator, with glowing red eyes and a million tentacles!
Anyways Im not sure If im suppose to write these In present tense first person or past tense. I asked the captain and she said it's whatever so long as I make sure any pertinent dialogues are properly quoted(“”).
“Nobody usually reads these things anyways.” She said, but this one is surely going to be so exciting, who could look away!
I mean who's gonna scoff at a chance to read about friendly predators from another dimension! A dimension of friendly predators who give warm head scratches and hand out yummy strayu not strayu treats called donuts, that are somehow fluffier than strayu, and have a nice moisture to them. I asked for the recipe but Samantha said we wouldn't have the ingredients back on Venili prime to make them, and Teal'c said the recipe is an old family secret. Its weird predators would be so protective of their plant snacks.
There are so many weird things about these predators, they have nurturing instincts that make them find us cute. They stay perfectly balanced even if they don’t have tails, swinging their arms and body all over the place to keep upright like a lopsided gyroscope, it's pretty funny looking!
They also wear artificial pelts all the time, which I thought was weird, I thought maybe the ships temperature was set by the angry gray alien since he’s the only crew member beside the venlil who walks around naked all the time, maybe he had a fit when it was to warm, and the humans obliged him cause they were worried they would make him even angrier, and wore clothes to make up for the cold. I thought this made sense, a lot of their technology does seem to come from the Asguard, maybe he has more say in the goings on of the ship because of that. But apparently humans just like wearing pelts all the time. They feel uncomfortable without them and don’t like it if you try to remove them or look up their upper artificial pelts they call shirts.
The humans are so weird, I don’t even have to embellish my reports to make it more interesting. Like that time with the big tentacled space predator. That may sound real compared to this stuff but it Isn't, Ha! I bet you fell for it at first, hook line and sinker! Like the humans would say. I think I used that saying right, I'm not sure what it means, but Shepard brought it up when he was telling a story about the wraith.
The humans are so nice, instead of exterminating their predators they try to cure them! Their doctors are working to modify the wraith so they don't have to eat humans anymore, so they can be friendly predators too.
Anyways I should probably get to the actual report part of this report. Farva says I should start after I went off with Samantha to work on some special astrophysics equations she said I would be good at. I kind of wanted to go with Donu to help Rodney get the new parts they needed, or Farva to help rescue our people, but the humans and even the angry gray alien got really weird when Farva mentioned taking me on the mission. Samantha seemed to want me to help her really badly so I didn’t mind. Samantha says I have the most important part to our mission. She's teaching me about how humans communicate through subspace, and about stellar drift equations. We are working on what she calls the exit strategy.

Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

POV: Motsotaer, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Pack Member)
The shrieking whistle of incoming artillery shell was among the most terrifying noises known to living beings.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Boom. Boom. Boom.
But it meant you were still alive.
Pack Member Motsotaer wondered if the poor pups in the forward trenches heard them coming as the enemy high explosive pounded into their lines.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of their anti-aircraft concrete bunkers took a direct hit; its roof collapsed on itself with a loud crumble.
Grass Eater artillery was voluminous, destructive, but scariest of all, it was incredibly precise. Their intelligence assets in orbit knew all, saw all. Their kill chains were short. Once they saw you, they would call it in, and the remainder of your life was measured in minutes and seconds.
There was nothing vegetarian about the efficient and bloodthirsty way the long-eared Grass Eaters fought, and the numerous intelligent predator species they’d exterminated on their way to Datsot… some of those tales gave even Motsotaer nightmares.
The defenders of Datsot had no choice. No choice but to defend their homes against the psychotic enemies pounding their lines to bits. And the ones who remained had learned the hard lessons of war, either through experience earned by blood or via the process of not-so-natural selection.
Motsotaer clutched his rifle against his chest as he laid in his own shallow hole, eyes closed. If the end was going to come for him, there was nothing else he could do but huddle in his freshly-dug grave.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The blasts continued walking across the defense lines, undoubtedly killing scores of his comrades. But he accompanied each shockwave with a sigh of relief; they let him know that he was still alive. Still breathing.
One final rumble. And then there was silence across the battlefield.
Motsotaer waited a minute before he peeked out — another lesson that smart defenders of Datsot had discovered the hard way. A couple brave medics were already on the move, their shouts left and right, pulling bodies and the groaning injured alike out of the rubble aftermath of the shelling.
With a grunt, he pulled himself out of his hole, rushing towards the neighboring anti-air bunker. The concrete roof had collapsed, but he could still hear cries from the dark. He squeezed through the cluttered entrance.
It was a mess on the inside. The lights were all gone. Scattered sandbags. It smelled like blood and death, and he pushed aside the still body of a Head Pack Leader he only knew of, only to find the corpse of yet another Pack Member, her limbs sprawled in an unnatural position.
“Anyone still alive in here?” he asked in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “Hello?”
There were a series of loud coughs. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Pack Leader Nidvid!” he shouted as he recognized the familiar shrill voice. “Keep talking! Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here. Help me up.”
As she continued to cough, he had the sense to fish a flashlight out of his pocket, fumbling around until he found the on button. As the light activated, he could see Nidvid half-buried in the dirt, her lower limbs trapped beneath some sand from the broken sandbags.
“Pack Leader!” He got onto his front paws and started digging. “Are you injured?”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head in the dim lighting as she experimentally wriggled her legs. “Here, I think I’m loose. Help me up.”
Motsotaer grasped her under her arms, and with a heavy grunt, pulled her out of the dirt.
“Whew,” she said, checking her body again for wounds. Nidvid looked around at the other bodies splayed in the bunker. “Oh no… Head Pack Leader…”
“That was a close one. I can’t believe you lived through that!”
“Yeah, me neither… Wait a second,” Nidvid said as she began rummaging through a pile of rubble near the Head Pack Leader’s body. “The radio…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he aimed his flashlight towards where she was looking.
“Oh no, no, no…” her voice trailed off as she picked up the device she’d been looking for. “Our hardline communicator…” It was clearly broken from the strike, its shell perforated with a hundred holes and its connection to the landline severed. In disgust, Nidvid threw it back to the ground.
“What uh— what did you need that for?” Motsotaer asked. “Were we supposed to tell them we were being attacked?”
“No… It was— before the strike, we got a high priority order.”
“A high priority order?”
Nidvid recalled, “There’s a special platoon in our salient… We were supposed to get an important message to them!”
“Special platoon?” Motsotaer asked. “Are you okay, Nidvid?”
“Yes, yes,” the Pack leader replied, visibly distraught. “They only had a physical line to us because they’re supposed to be keeping in the dark. Emissions control or something like that so they can activate the flying machine swarm in time. They said this was life and death and our whole defense line hinges on it!”
“Emissions control? Flying machines? Pack Leader, we should get you to a medic,” he said skeptically.
“No! Motsotaer, this is important. We need to get the message to them now. They’re only a couple kilometers south from our position. If we run over to their position now, it might not yet be—”
He looked up at her face in alarm. “Run to another position? Outside the trench line?”
“Yes! We have to go!” she said, as she peeked out of the concrete bunker towards the barren zone ahead of the trenches. “Now! Before they start their offensive.”
Motsotaer began to protest, “But that’s no creature’s land. If we get spotted by their troops, we’ll be hunted down by the Grass Eaters ships in orbit…”
She was insistent, “Pack Member Motsotaer, get it together. We still have a job to do. Are you with me or are you going to sit here and die like a coward to the long-ears?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening up. Death or not, he was no coward. “I mean… I’m with you.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
With a grunt, she leapt out of the trenches and jogged south, keeping to the defensive side of it for the modicum of cover it provided, and Motsotaer quickly followed. As they sprinted away from the tattered defenses, they ran into a thick tree line that hopefully provided them with some concealment from the Grass Eater ships above.
After a couple more minutes of running in the forest, Motsotaer started to tire and pant. He weighed his burning lung and how embarrassed he’d be if he complained. Luckily for his ego, Nidvid gestured for them to stop after another minute and tossed him her canteen. “Take a break before we get going.”
He chugged as much water as he could in a single swig, and returned the canteen to Nidvid. He gasped out, “How much further, Pack Leader?”
“About one more kilometer south,” she said, aiming her snout up at the treetops. “I recognize the smell of this area.”
“What’s this even about? The message… what was it?”
Nidvid exercised her limbs. “That Grass Eater artillery strike… it was to prepare for their offensive on our lines. They’ve gathered an armored division on the other side of that,” she pointed out into the barren fields beyond the trees. “We have an hour at most before they roll over us.”
“An armored division?!” Motsotaer squeaked. The enemy’s Longclaws — their armored vehicles — were legendary. They could kill from kilometers away. And their thick shells protected them against all but the most powerful artillery in the Federation’s arsenal. He’d never seen one of them personally. If he had, he suspected he wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone about it. “What can we do against a Grass Eater armored division?”
“That’s why we have to get to the special platoon,” Nidvid replied. She pointed in the southern direction, “You ready? Let’s go.”
They galloped for a few more minutes. Motsotaer’s limbs tired and his breaths shallowed as his lung burnt. As he was contemplating whether to ask for another break, Nidvid pointed at a shape in the distance. “There, that’s their position!”
He squinted at it. It was not easy to see, but buried in the tree line was what looked like a bunch of out-of-place branches and leaves over a small vehicle. Buoyed by the anticipation of the end of the marathon, he managed to keep up with Nidvid’s pace.
As they approached, there was a loud shout.
“Hi-yah! Stop!”
They halted their steps and looked for the source of the voice.
“Not one more paw step, deserter! This is a restricted area! Turn around or you’ll be shot!”
Motsotaer looked up at the voice hidden up in the branches. After a moment, with some help from his nose, he found the yeller. It was a short, stout middle-aged male with strange-looking green and brown paint smeared all over his fur and face. He had a rifle aimed squarely at the duo.
“Don’t shoot!” Nidvid yelled back. “We’re runners. We’ve got an important message! For your platoon commander.”
The male in the tree looked suspiciously at them as he leapt down. He lowered his rifle, but didn’t seem any less on guard. “A message?”
“Yes, we’ve got an urgent message for Special Platoon Commander Graunsa. Take us to him right now!”
He sized the two of them up. After a moment, he said slowly, “I am Graunsa. Why are you here, and what is the message?”
Nidvid recovered some of her breath and explained, “The Grass Eaters hit us hard with an artillery strike. Our Head Pack Leader is dead. Our landline is gone. We ran all the way over from our lines north of you.”
Graunsa nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“The Grass Eater armored offensive is about to start. They’re moving into position and ready to go, and there’s a special message embedded—”
“Wait a second,” Graunsa interrupted. “Give me the special message exactly, without omission or your own interpretations.”
“Yes, Platoon Commander,” Nidvid nodded. “The message is: bunny water carriers are in play, red-five-zero-eight; come out of the dark and introduce yourself. Authorization is three-three-greyhound.”
Graunsa looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered it.
“What does the message mean?” Motsotaer whispered at Nidvid.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged, whispering back. “The Head Pack Leader just told me to memorize it.”
The platoon commander seemed to have made up his mind. “Alright, that seems legitimate. Thanks for the message.” He turned around to leave.
Motsotaer shouted behind him, “Wait, what are we supposed to do now?”
Graunsa turned around. “I don’t know. I’m not your commanding officer.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to your lines though. Might not be there when you get back…”
“What?!”
“You can’t just leave us! Where else are we supposed to go?” Nidvid asked.
Graunsa seemed to contemplate the question for a few heartbeats and sighed, “You said you’re from the position up north?”
“Yup,” they replied in unison.
“And you’re a spotter, Pack Member?” he asked, looking at the rank and position patch on Motsotaer’s chest.
“Yes.”
Graunsa relented. “Fine. We might find a use for you. Get into the bunker… before the Grass Eaters in orbit see us dawdling out here.”
“What? Where?”
The officer pointed at a patch of dark green leaves on the forest floor. As they approached it, he grasped a latch and lifted it to reveal a ladder. The three of them descended into the darkness and Graunsa secured it behind them. With a quiet swoosh, a lamp mounted on the wall lit up to reveal a small hallway leading to a heavy-looking door.
Graunsa knocked on it twice. He turned around and looked at Motsotaer and Nidvid. “What you’re about to see in here is of the highest secrecy level of the Malgeir Federation. If you tell anyone what you see in here, you will be executed for treason. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Platoon Commander.”
“Swear it, on your honor.”
“We swear,” they replied in unison, their voices infused with growing excitement.
“Good enough for me.”
The heavy steel door swung open, showing a room that was vastly different from what its primitive exterior suggested. It resembled a command center far more than a field base, and Motsotaer felt a blast of cold air conditioning in his face as he passed the door threshold.
At the front, a main screen showed a map of the defensive lines in the sector. Facing it, two rows of sleek, new computer screens lit up the dark. Their operators worked busily at their controls, and only a couple faces looked their way in mild interest as they entered.
“What is this—” Motsotaer started to ask. Nidvid grasped his shoulder and shushed him.
Graunsa cleared his throat. Several faces looked towards him in anticipation. “Platoon, we just got the message. Activate the FTL handshake and authenticate us in the network.”
“Yes, sir.” A young-looking communication officer near the front operated a few controls on her console. “I’ve got the advisors on the line.”
Motsotaer read his nametag: Gassin. She was a Gamma Leader, much higher ranked than he, but she looked not a day over twenty. He noted that many of the people in the room sported high-ranking insignias despite their apparent youth.
“On screen,” Graunsa ordered.
A communication window appeared on the main screen, streaming video of someone in a jet-black EVA suit.
Motsotaer stiffened. It was obvious that the subject was alien; at around 1.7 or 1.8 meters, it was far too tall for being a Malgeir. Too small for a Granti. And from the side profile of the suit, it didn’t bulge nearly enough for the tails that the Malgeir’s Schpriss neighbors were known for. A strange new species of aliens.
From the blackened visor, it was obvious that whoever that was… it was the reason for all this tight secrecy.
“Special Platoon Commander Graunsa,” it transmitted in perfect Malgeirish. The alien was either a trained-from-birth Federation Channel One newscaster with a perfectly inoffensive accent, or its translator was far better than anything the Malgeir themselves had invented. “This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”
Graunsa stepped up to address the screen directly, “Yes, advisor. Our fire support platoon is ready for tasking.”
“Excellent. Transmitting the first batch of targets in your sector now.”
A series of symbols scrolled onto the screen, showing a number of coordinates.
“We’re getting the enemy positions now,” Gassin exclaimed.
Graunsa turned to her and nodded his appreciation, “Sixteen armored targets. Weapons free.”
“Yes, sir. Programming the sequence.”
A camera on the main screen activated, remotely showing a small hole with some machinery in it dug a few hundred meters away just at the edge of the tree line.
“Launching flying machine swarm!”
As Motsotaer watched, a thicket of metal erupted from the hole in a blur, roaring into the sky.
The main screen was replaced by a four-by-four of windows of black and white images. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was looking at the battlefield from above. The Malgeir had rotary wing, airplanes, and jet — some were even armed, but they were usually much bigger. And their air assets had been grounded since the early days of the battle for Datsot when the enemy took the orbits.
Not these tiny devices though.
He focused on one of the sixteen windows.
The ground sped past below the camera’s vision, tree line after tree line, the flying machine seemed to know where it was going by itself: Motsotaer looked at the other occupants in the room. None of them seemed to be directly controlling it.
He stiffened.
Is this controlled by a thinking machine?
“We’re getting in range of the target coordinates, Platoon Commander,” Gassin updated the room a few minutes later.
As if on cue, the flying machines flew higher, and the trees on the ground grew smaller, as if further away. Until…
“Targets identified!” Gassin reported with excitement in her voice.
As an infantry spotter, Motsotaer had been trained — barely — to identify enemy armored vehicles. As in, he’d been given a cheatsheet containing the silhouettes of the different types of vehicles the enemy drove. But even he couldn’t tell at this distance what the white-hot smudges on the screen were.
The machine had no such issues though.
Several red boxes materialized on the screen, clearly marking several enemy vehicles in the thermal imagery and adorning them with detailed information.
The one Motsotaer was watching said:
Hostile vehicle, Longclaw MK4 (top armor: ~25mm), 4.2 km.
No hostile EW detected.
Without additional prompting, the flying machines raced in towards their targets, each recognizing a different one as its final destination. Afraid to blink, Motsotaer stared intently at one of the video streams.
A new line of text appeared at the top of the screen:
ETA 20 seconds.
It counted down the seconds, number by number.
The enemy Longclaw got larger and larger until… the screen went black, replaced by static. As he looked around, the other windows were similarly replaced with static one-by-one.
Motsotaer frowned, wondering where the videos had gone.
Then, it hit him. The flying machines were on one-way trips.
The sixteen windows disappeared, and another one appeared, showing the enemy assembly area from a much higher perspective. And instead of the vehicles he expected, he counted sixteen burning wrecks, the black smoke from their flames reaching up into the sky in columns.
“Targets destroyed, Commander,” Gassin said. Several of the officers in the room looked at each other excitedly, but their celebration was muted.
Graunsa nodded. “Call our advisors again.”
The alien appeared on the screen again. “Excellent work, Platoon Commander. We’re assessing the lines and getting the second batch of targets to you now.”
“Understood.”
As the new target coordinates scrolled onto the main screen, Gassin didn’t need additional prompting, “Launching flying machines!”
Another sixteen of them flashed out from the pre-dug position. Another sixteen windows appeared on the screen, replacing the odd-looking aliens’ video.
“Wait a minute,” the aliens’ voice cut into the quiet hum of the control room’s operation. “Switch back to the high-altitude drone. Something’s happening.”
The main screen’s image was replaced by the previous camera looking down at enemy lines. There was a flurry of activity in the enemy base area. Numerous dots representing the ground troops moved to-and-fro. And worryingly, the red squares that surrounded enemy armor began appearing en masse as enemy Longclaws drove out of their covered positions into the open.
Dozens of them.
Then, hundreds. And more appeared every second.
“What’s going on?” Graunsa asked, his voice reflecting Motsotaer’s worry.
The alien took a minute to get back to him, its black helmeted face filling up the screen again. “They’re attacking. They don’t know what hit them in the last strike. But they must have realized that they’re not safe in their assembly area, and they’re doing the only thing they can… We estimate they’ll get to your first lines in thirty minutes.”
“Can we stop them?” Graunsa asked. “We can—”
The alien looked directly into the video. “Not sixteen drones at a time. And if you launch the whole swarm at once, it’ll reflect enough signal for them to sniff out where you are with their counter-battery radars and take you out from orbit.”
Graunsa swallowed. “That’s— that’s— The machines can fly themselves without us, right?”
The alien didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “Theoretically, yes. But even if you evacuate your position now, your people won’t get out of range from the orbital strike they’ll call in.”
“I understand. Feed us the enemy targets.”
“Delta Leader, we can’t ask you to—”
“I said, feed us the enemy targets,” Graunsa insisted.
Quietly, hundreds of coordinate pairs filed onto the main screen. Graunsa looked at the faces of the young officers under his command. Dozens of them. He turned around to look at his two guests. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s the right choice,” Nidvid replied, shrugging.
Motsotaer nodded at him.
“I know,” Graunsa said, turning back to the main screen. “Just doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Sir, we’re ready to launch,” Gassin reported.
“Weapons free. Release everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ground shook and rumbled, hundreds of flying machines leaving their canisters for the sky. They were close enough to hear the outgoing buzzing as the munitions launched. This time, more and more windows filled up the screen with the visuals of the outgoing flying machines — hundreds of them, and Motsotaer was surprised that the computers could even handle it all.
The visage of the alien returned to their screen. It said calmly, “Enemy orbital launch spotted. Multiple launches. High yield. Missiles incoming to your location, ETA twelve minutes.”
“Understood, advisor.”
POV: Slurskoch, Znosian Dominion Marines (Rank: Five Whiskers)
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
“What’s going on?” Longclaw Commander Slurskoch sat up in his turret cupola as the sirens rang loud through the hull.
“We’re under artillery attack!” his Controller yelled back at him through the roaring startup sequence of the turbine anti-grav engines. “The Lesser Predators… they’ve got some kind of new weapon! Took out a whole battalion’s worth of Longclaws in the 194!”
“But we’re not ready!” his Driver complained. “Our artillery is supposed to pound them for another hour before we—”
Slurskoch shook his head as he checked the friendly force tracker on his screen. “Doesn’t matter! If they’ve got some new weapon, we can’t sit still while we get pounded to bits by whatever they have. We gotta get out there. Hurry it up!”
It took them another two minutes to fully warm up the engines, and with a roar, the Longclaw burst out of its camouflaged emplacement, kicking up a curtain of dirt in front of it.
“Let’s go! Go! Go!” Slurskoch yelled as his lagging Longclaw joined the armored formation already on the move.
The Controller spoke with one of her ears in the radio, “Their artillery just launched… something at us. We’ve pinpointed their location, and orbital support is on its way.”
His Gunner whooped twice, and Slurskoch nodded silently in agreement. That’d flatten those carnivorous abominations where they stood. He drew a few symbols and circles on the digital battlemap as the Longclaws drove toward the enemy lines. “Gunner, watch those potential trench lines in front of us,” he instructed. “Their anti-armor may not look scary on paper, but their infantry can always get a lucky hit in.”
Slurskoch was taught in training that it was better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Luckily, the predators usually fell below expectations, which was why the Dominion controlled the orbits of Datsot now and not them.
His Controller frowned at something in her radio, “They’re saying something about the enemy artillery… The engineers at the base assessed the strike aftermath. There’s something strange in the rubble. The attack was more precise than anything we’d ever seen.”
“What does that mean?” Slurskoch asked in confusion.
“The sensor officer in charge of the assembly area has taken full responsibility. They didn’t see the incoming at all. Higher ups are speculating that the Lesser Predators have a new weapon in their arsenal.”
“The predators made new weapons?” Slurskoch snorted. “Useful ones? That’ll be a first. Well, whatever it is, maybe our Design Bureau will get a good look at it when we finally cleanse this planet of their filth. Make our next battle a little easier when we have to take their home planet.”
His Gunner agreed, “And then, the Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”
A few kilometers into the charge across the open, the Gunner remarked with one eye on her targeting computer, “Looks like even the local winged predators know that there’s about to be a slaughter here.”
The Driver, in his open hatch, looked up at the cloud of them flying over the enemy lines. “Looks like it. A nice juicy feast for them in the coming battle. The irony of the barbaric carnivores being eaten by themselves.”
A few thousand years ago, winged predators would have curdled the blood of any natural-born Znosian. On the original plains of Znos, they were one of the most dangerous threats a lone Znosian faced. Now, that fear had been completely bred out of the gene pool, replaced with contempt for predatory primitivism, the courage to face them in battle, and the drive to exterminate them all.
Curious, Slurskoch stared up into the cloud of winged predators with his Longclaw commander optics. He frowned.
One of them shimmered.
Shimmered.
He zoomed in.
Then, he saw a metallic glint. His whiskers tightened.
“That’s— those aren’t winged predators,” he barely made out in shock. “Incoming!”
“Huh?” his Driver asked, craning his head up to look at the dark shapes in the distance.
“Get inside! Secure the hatch!” Slurskoch shouted at him.
His Driver was not very good at thinking on his own, but he had been bred to follow direct orders without question. He ducked into his seat, quickly securing the hatch above him close with trained claws.
He barely secured the Longclaw as other commanders began yelling out similar instructions on their radios.
“Incoming!” his Controller advised, about ten seconds later than necessary. “Enemy… artillery?!”
“Gunner!” Slurskoch gestured in the general direction of the sky.
“I can’t get a shot on them. They’re too high up!” she screamed back at him.
A trio of air defense vehicles next to him opened up with their six barrels towards the sky, lines of bright tracers stabbing out at the dark swarm. He saw one of the… flying machines hit and fall out of the sky. Then another.
It wasn’t enough.
As Slurskoch’s optics tracked the incoming, he saw them dive. They were fast, and they flew erratic patterns, almost organically, like actual winged beasts. If he hadn’t had that specific fear bred out of his bloodline hundreds of years ago, he would have been frozen in shock. Instead, he yelled out, “Brace! Brace!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The world exploded around his Longclaw.
Through his friendly force tracker, Slurskoch watched an entire battalion disappear off the map on his right flank, and two Longclaws in his line of sight brewed up in massive fireballs, throwing their turrets into the sky as their plasma ammunition detonated. One of the anti-air vehicles brewed up next to his, splattering its parts against his hull.
His Driver drove for all he was worth, ducking and weaving in the open field. So did the other Longclaws. Some deployed curtains of smoke in front of them in desperation.
None of it seemed to help.
The shockwaves hit his Longclaw in quick succession, knocking him around the armored cabin and rattling his teeth.
Boom. Boom.
More Longclaws exploded. Many more. They were disappearing off his screen faster than the software could update the signals. He closed his eyes waiting for the end.
It didn’t come.
It was hard for Slurskoch to tell when the last Longclaw near them was hit. His hearing organs must have been damaged some time during the attack. His auditory senses ringed as they returned to normal, recovering when his Controller shook him with a paw on his shoulder. “—Five Whiskers! Five Whiskers!”
“What is it?” he snapped, keeping the quivering out of his voice.
“We’re alone in our company, and I can’t contact the six whiskers! And I’ve been trying to reach battalion without success!”
“Try the regiment commander!” he yelled out against the noise of the anti-grav engine.
“Can’t reach them either!”
“What about division headquarters?!”
“I think division’s gone, sir!”
“What?!”
“Nobody there has been responding. All I’ve got is a seven whiskers in the reserve infantry division behind us! They’re saying they see black smoke in the direction of our division field command!”
“What in the Prophecy? How is that possible?!”
“What do we do, Five Whiskers?”
Slurskoch had been trained for a wide variety of combat scenarios and contingencies, including losing his immediate superiors, losing most of his unit, and losing his communication link to command. But he’d never been trained for all of those combined at once. That was just not something predators were supposed to be able to do to you.
He fell back to the next best thing.
“What’s the combat computer say?” he asked.
His Controller operated the controls on her console, and after half a minute of querying, she replied, reading off the instructions, “Absent orders, continue the attack. Maybe we can push through.”
“What? Did it take our losses into account?” he protested as he checked the battlemap. Of the nearly five hundred Longclaws that had pushed out of the assembly area, only a quarter remained. At most. Some of the signals on the map were flagging themselves as mobility or mission killed.
She shrugged, “It did. That’s what it says.”
He squinted at her screen. That was indeed what it said.
Slurskoch thought for a moment, sighed, and bowed in prayer, “Our lives were forfeited the day we left our hatchling pools.”
The other crew members all did the same, lowering their heads to mutter the familiar mantra.
That ritual out of the way, he drew up to his full height of 1 meter and mustered all the confidence he could into his voice, “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
POV: Graunsa, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Delta Leader)
The command center watched glumly as the hundred or so surviving Grass Eater Longclaws emerged from the wrecks of their comrades and slowly resumed their charge across the open toward the defense lines.
The flying machines had gotten a lot of them. Quite a few disabled too. And they were disorganized from the loss of their command. Yet they still charged. Diminished as their numbers were, they rolled towards the battered defensive lines with psychotic determination.
We’ve failed.
Graunsa sat down heavily into his chair. He brought up his communication console, connecting it to the advisor network.
The alien appeared on the screen, and though he couldn’t see its face, he could hear the sympathy in its translated voice, “You’ve done all you can, Special Platoon Commander.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he said, shaking his ears sadly. “They’re going to break through our line. Our infantry can’t stop them.”
It tilted its head. “I wouldn’t count them out completely, Delta Leader. They might. They might not. But your next defensive line certainly will hold them. The city behind you will be held.”
“Tracking enemy orbit-to-ground. ETA three minutes,” Gassin reported quietly from next to him.
Graunsa sighed. He looked at the alien, “I think I understand your people now, advisor.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah, at first, when we were picked for this mission, I wondered why your people were doing this.”
“Doing this?” the alien asked, seeming confused.
“Helping us. The weapons. The equipment. The training. The targeting. It was all in secret, but you didn’t have to do it. The other species around us didn’t do it. The Schpriss…” Graunsa snorted, “The long-tails can’t even find it in their spines to send us field rations. I thought your species… your people were just generous. Or perhaps you simply enjoyed the craft of war, being so adept at it.”
“Are we… not?”
“Those reasons may be part of it,” he conceded. “But more importantly, I think your people understand one thing the other species don’t… that we might stop the enemy here. Or we might not.”
“We didn’t set you up to fail, if that’s what you think—”
“But the next defensive line certainly will hold them,” Graunsa said, staring the alien in the eye. “You will hold them. Isn’t that right?”
It sighed. “I would be lying if that wasn’t part of the strategic equation. Our star systems are indeed next in line — sometime in the next decade or two, probably — if these bloodthirsty Buns conquered your Federation. That harsh astropolitical realism. But there’s something else too.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” it nodded its head firmly in a familiar manner. “Yes, there is. We aren’t a particularly long-sighted species, Graunsa. We can plan, yes, but wars are fought by true believers. People don’t sign up to put their lives on the line for a hypothetical, potential invasion of our Republic twenty years in the future. They— we signed up for this because we truly believe what’s happening to your people… it shouldn’t happen to anyone, ever.”
Graunsa looked at the helmeted head for a while, then nodded. “I believe you, advisor.”
“I’m sorry this didn’t pan out, Graunsa. If I could, I’d be down there with you. We’d have made them pay for this.”
Graunsa smiled. “I believe you about that too. Thank you, advisor, whatever your name is.”
“You may call me Kara,” it said simply. A deft snap of its paws — he hadn’t noticed how soft its claws were before — and it released a latch on its helmet with a hiss. Lifting it from its head, it revealed a soft, smooth face without much fur except a bundle of long, brown strands on its scalp tied up in a neat spherical shape. Its hazel forward-facing eyes stared at him with the empathy that only other predators were capable of, filling him with mild relief. “Don’t tell anyone though,” it joked lightly, mirroring his smile back at him.
You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be. Not nearly.
Graunsa’s grin widened at the thought. He put it out of his mind. “Ah. One last thing, advisor— Kara.”
“Yes?”
His mind drifted to his cubs at home. Perhaps they were still alive. He chose to believe that. “Our people’s clans and packs…”
“We’ll let them know,” she interrupted him softly. “And when the information quarantine is lifted, we’ll let your clans and packs know what you did here — everything.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gassin sat down next to him, “Delta Leader, enemy missiles incoming. ETA thirty seconds, they’re entering—” She stopped her report and stared at the unmasked alien on his screen with equal parts wonder and sadness.
“Take a closer look, Gassin,” he ordered softly. “That… that is who will avenge us.”
On screen, the alien put its gloved paw up to its temple, forming a stiff triangle with its arm in a recognizable salute. “It was an honor, Graunsa.”
Graunsa returned it crisply, letting a primitive fire shine through his face. “Happy hunting, Kara.”

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

POV: “Kara”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
Kara watched solemnly as the green signal blinked off the battlemap. She closed her eyes for a moment in silent prayer for the fallen.
Beep. Beep.
Another light on her console blinked urgently for her attention. Four thousand kilometers from the previous one. The war raged on — day and night — across four continents on the besieged planet. Fifty light years from the Republic, its defenders’ sweat, tears, and blood lined the fields and valleys of the beautiful blue sphere not so different from her own. Tens of millions of them: many who she knew would not see the end of this war.
They didn’t all know it, and some might not have cared, but fifty light years away, someone recorded their names, and someone felt a pang of loss for their sacrifice. In the cold, dark forest of the galaxy, somebody heard their trees fall.
Kara collected her thoughts, adjusted the bun in her hair, and lowered the tinted EVA helmet over her face once more.
She cleared her throat as she glanced at the screen and activated the microphone in her helmet, “Special Platoon Commander Treiriu. This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”

Meta

Thanks for reading my story! This is a standalone chapter in my Grass Eaters story, meant to be enjoyable all on its own. If you're interested in more of my writing, please do subscribe to the update waffle bot or check out the rest of the universe in Grass Eaters.
(Grass Eaters posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We are closing in on the end of Book 1.)

Hi everyone, my grandpa is suffering from psychosis and I need some advice .Will try to make it short and precise.

1. He is doing physically okay for his age but he lives alone and he likes to live alone.
   
2. He refuses to stay with my uncle or my family and could go to a great extent if pushed. So I was staying with him for past 4 days and he asked me to leave(not aggressively). So no one can either stay with him or keep him at their place. same is the case with any househelp or caregiver.
   
3. He is suspicious about meds so we just mix meds in his food or else he wouldn’t take it and that is constant pain in our behind.
   
4. He tries to avoid sleep and sometimes act on delusional thoughts like going to someone’s house for some thing he had in mind.
   

I am assuming people going through this must display same symptoms So how do I take care of him in these conditions. I feel helpless at this point.

So I’m almost a month out from birth and finally had the courage to look at my vagina after a 3rd degree tear. I looked because it still feels off despite feeling healed. And I was devastated by what I saw. Not because my vagina looks different, of course it would. But because it’s completely wrong.
The doctor sewed a new perineum about a centimeter closer to the outside of my body than where my actual perenium was, and she almost completely sealed off my vagina. The hole is now tucked behind the new perenium, with about 1/3rd of it available for use. Meaning even if I wanted to use a small tampon, I wouldn’t be able to. No, it’s not swelling, it’s just sewed wrong. Below that, I have a ridge that resembles another vagina between my vagina and rectum that just looks like bunched up skin sewn together.
I’m beside myself. I thought I was a few weeks out from being able to have sex and bathe normally again and I can’t even fit a finger in this new vagina. Has anyone gone through anything like this? I’m honestly interested to know if there is any legal recourse. My birth experience was so traumatic because I’m a redhead and the epidural wore off after 5 hours which no one seemed to believe. Plus, they had me pushing for 5 hours even though I requested to only push once I hit a 0 station. So I was exhausted and in pain and felt everything as I birthed my almost 10 pound baby. I felt every stitch she did because she started sewing immediately after he came out. I believe this was because I had lost a lot of blood, but to now see a month out that I will have to have this re-cut and re-stitched is unbearable while I’m also dealing with lactation and breastfeeding issues.
Any insight welcome

I hurt myself while squatting (high bar, back squat). I was attempting to lift after being sick a few days and should have just bailed on this particular set but I pushed through. On the third rep , I felt a sharp tearing/stabbing pain along my beltline. The pain was fairly intense but lasted only a few seconds and quickly went away. Next day I wasn't sore but felt weak in my core. I eventually went to my PCP and he told me it was not a hernia but diastasis recti. There is a slight bulge just below my belly button with minimal pain but at times I do feel pressure in that area as if I just ate a huge meal. PCP said to take 2-4 weeks off and to google some exercises that would help. I've taken time off and am easing back into squatting/lifting again but it feels weird in that area below my belly button, like a I have a gut now and it's in the way. Also when I'm squatting I feel pressure and maybe some low grade pain (2 or 3 out of 10). I'm thinking about reaching back out to my PCP and asking for some PT to help build up my core and lower back. I don't want to make this worse. Has anyone experienced anything like this? Will this get better eventually or will I have to adjust how I lift going forward? I'm 42 and have been lifting a lot the past 18 months and love it.

Hello ladies. Hope you're well and thriving.
I really could use some advice and perspective from this sub, and I'm grateful in advance for any insights. This will be kinda long but I wanted to give the full context. English is not my 1st language so I apologize for any mistakes.
I (29) am a Brazilian woman dating an indian man (32) from Mumbai area. We're both on the cruise ship industry and met each other on board. We hit it off over sarcastic humour and friendly banters; It was organic and very nice. We fell in love and got inseparable. Our relationship there was public and serious.
We are on vacation now so it's a LDR situation, but we went through the necessary bureaucracy and will embark together in the same ship as a couple for the next contract. He was the one to suggest it. We talk every day for hours and cannot wait to see each other again.
He told me he doesn't date only for fun and it's interested on a future with me. I feel the same but I know this can be a complicate matter in India, and I don't want to further a relationship bound to fail.
I did my due diligence and asked him everything under the sun, in order to find any potential problems. He's a very chill laid back men and I'm more anxious talkative mess so that's the first obstacle 🤣
Anyway. He says his family is chill/more modern and I partially believe him. His older and only brother will marry a divorced woman who has a teenager and everybody has been supportive. His family is Hindu but he eats beef when is abroad and nobody cares anymore. He says he has always been clear about not wanting an AM and he's not pressured to change his instance.
My disbelief comes from two reasons. 1. He's the breadwinner of the family and, as I sense, the golden child, and I know families might have different expectations for them. What it's ok for his brother might be unacceptable for him. I'm also a mother, my son lives in Europe with his father. What if his family has a problem with that? I consider myself black (for some reason some people don't?) and I know colorism can be a thing (it happens in Brazil too). His mom and brother are darker than me but colorism doesn't follow logic and people can hate their own characteristics. This shouldn't even matter anyway but I felt like I should mention it .
Reason n. 2 this man doesn't seem to have any deal breakers. I ask and ask and cannot squeeze anything. I'm always reminding him that love isn't always enough so it's important to know each other expectations'. He says everything depends solely on us and that we are on early stages (5 mo) so no worries. I told him it's exactly in this stage we should check compatibility. I asked him "can you imagine being years with someone only to found out you're not really compatible?", he answered "if years it means that worked". Then I had to remind him that my last relationship was 4 years. He just said "don't compare." Sigh.
I should mention though that he's getting better at understanding this. He asked me several questions now (liabilities, finances, overall ).
My only deal breaker is that I will not and cannot live with in laws. He says he wants to experiment living outside parental house but he doesn't have any hard opinions on this. He says he wants to live abroad but honestly being the breadwinner and also paying an apartment I can see him delaying this forever.
During one of these conversations he asked "do you want my family to like you?". And I said "of course 🙄". He just said "so learn to make chapati round".
🤌🏽
Anyway thank you for reading so far. Has anyone here been through the same? Am I correct to keep pushing and asking? We were watching Dark together and at one point I told him that I feel like Jonas, by trying to avoid hurt and pain am actually causing it :(

Examples of Wikipedia becoming less neutral and more biased against Israel since Oct 7
Historically, I used to always consider Wikipedia one of the best sources for anything Israel-Palestine related. It was not heavily politically biased, used fairly neutral language, and seemed to offer reasonable perspectives. (This was only true for the English wiki, the Arabic version was always exactly as you'd expect). However, I've been noticing a shift recently every time I read Israel related Wiki articles.
So I decided to check if it's all in my head. I looked at some wiki articles and compared their version today vs the last version before Oct 7 to see if there were any differences in narratives. Most articles are very long and it's very difficult to look at all the changes in huge amounts of text, so I decided to only look at the first 2-3 paragraphs in each article.
This mini investigation does show me that Wikipedia no longer holds the status of a neutral source, as there's a clear attempt to subtly rewrite history and insert anti Israel propaganda.
Israel
Today vs Oct 5
This was an easy choice to try first. Even just comparing the first few paragraphs, there are A LOT of changes. Most of the changes involve removing some information, condensing information, and paraphrasing. Two noticeable differences:
• First sentence in second paragraph: describing where Israel is located: they removed that Israel is in a region that historically was called "Land of Israel" (but they kept "Canaan, Palestine and the Holy Land") Source
• Today, the article claims that the 1947 UN partition plan triggered a civil war that resulted in "expulsion and flight". This is a completely false narrative. The pre-Oct 7 article is correct, saying that during the 1948 war - after declaring independence and 5 armies declaring war on Israel - Arabs were expelled or fled (it was not the partition plan that caused it) Source
israel war of independence
As an aside, I found it strange that in the article about Israel, it did not mention even once the word "War of Independence". So I Googled "Israel war of independence", and I was very surprised to see that it redirects me to a wiki titled "1948 Arab–Israeli War". I'm 100% certain that last year there was a wiki with the title "Israel War of Independence" because I remember reading it many times. Our independence has been rewritten as just a war.
First intifada
Today vs Aug 9
• Changes "violent riots" to simply "riots" (we all know how pro Palestinians always argue that molotov cocktails and slingshots are peaceful) Source
• Changed that Israel took control of Gaza+WB "after Israel's victory in the war" to "in the wake of the war" (it's not wrong, but it's interesting that they chose to explicitly change the language to not show the Israel won a war) Source
• Changed "Palestinian territories" to "Israel-occupied Palestinian territories" - I've noticed this specific change in almost every Wikipedia article that mentions the territories or Gaza Strip. There seems to be a concentrated effort to insert "Israeli-occupied" into many texts Source
palestinian violence
Today vs Sep 22
• First sentence: "acts of violence perpetrated for political ends" vs "actions carried out by Palestinian people with the intent to end the Israeli occupation ... which can use force/terrorism" (firstly, they moved from saying that violence is "violence" to saying that violence is "actions" which "can" be involve force. Secondly, the claim that it's all in the name of "ending the occupation" is being pushed again... If that's all they want then why was there palestinian violence before 1967 when there was no occupation?) Source
Nakba
Today vs Sep 20
This word has become a favourite in the anti Israel crowd (here in a suburb of Toronto they've even officially added "Nakba Remembrance Day" to the schools calendar). Even though this is an article about something that happened 75 years ago, so supposedly it should be pretty set in stone by now, the length of the article tripled since Oct 7. It's impossible to compare to the old version because it's been entirely rewritten. A few notes:
• The first sentence says all you need to know about the propaganda push. It used to be "The Nakba was the destruction of Palestinian society and homeland in 1948, and the permanent displacement of a majority of the Palestinian Arabs." that was already biased and very politically charged, but it's nothing compared to what it says now: "The Nakba was the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians ... through their violent displacement and dispossession of land, property and belongings, along with the destruction of their society, culture, identity, political rights, and national aspirations." This paragraph looks 100% like it's taken from Al Jazeera... Source
• There's a new metadata section, and it's complete Palestinian propaganda. It describes the Nakba as an "attack", the attack type is all sorts of buzzwords ("ethnic cleansing", "mass killing", "settler colonialism", "biological warfare", "dispossession"), the victims says "750k expelled" (the word "fled" does not appear there - it just claims 750k was expelled) Source
• A new article was created after Oct 7 that branched off the "Nakba" article. It's called "Nakba denial", and it basically says that any Israeli narrative on the war of independence or any debate about what happened in 1948 and any Israeli viewpoint on history is decidedly lies and denialism, and what Palestinians say is the absolute undebated truth. They are changing what the term Nakba means and based on that they're building a new term to make Nakba denial sound as if it's the same as holocaust denial. It's weird to see how history is literally being rewritten. That's akin to me writing a "War of Independence denial" article which will gaslight anyone who says anything related to Nakba is just partaking in denial.
Israeli-Palestinian peace process
Today vs Sep 19
• They added an entire paragraph claiming that the international consensus is for "a Palestinian state in pre-1967 borders including East Jerusalem and a just resolution to the refugee problem based on the palestinian right of return". As far as I know, the Western world does not really talk about the right of return, and there's certainly no consensus that East Jerusalem (which includes the Wailing Wall) is going to be given to a Palestinian state. Since Oct 7, they essentially added all the Palestinian demands as if they're agreed upon by the world, but completely neglect to mention any of the Israeli demands, like security and control over their holy sites Source
Irgun
Today vs Sep 20
• Removed a sentence that said they avoided harming civilians, and without this sentence it sounds like their only objective was to kill anyone Source

I wanted to also look up some of the common old anti Israel propaganda that predated this war, to see how they changed. Here are the results:
Israel and apartheid
Today vs Oct 5
• Difficult to compare because the first few paragraphs are entirely rewritten. Pre-Oct 7, the entire third paragraph was dedicated to arguments against calling Israel an apartheid. Now, they softened and shortened the wording dedicated to that, and instead of having its own paragraph, it's just two sentences that got appened to the end of the last introductory paragraph.
• I found it strange that except for these two sentences, there was no other sections in the entire long article that discuss opposing views. Usually on wikipedia, there are always sections that show "the other side". So I checked the article in other time points going back several years, and I noticed that over time the amount of text describing the Israeli position is being removed. Until 2017 there was a section about "Criticism of the apartheid accusation" (which you would expect to have!), but since then it's been removed and now we're left with a mere two sentences.
• Just for fun, I wanted to see how Arabic wikipedia talks about this. You're going to love this! This is the first sentence in the Arabic version: "Apartheid in Israel or Israeli racism is a proven fact in Israeli politics , as it is a policy of apartheid carried out by the government against the indigenous Arab population of the region." Yep, it's a proven fact! Source
• Even in Arabic, this "fact" was only proven recently. On Oct 22, the Arabic article had this as the first sentence: "Apartheid in Israel or Israel's racism is an accusation directed against Israeli policy" Source
Dahiya doctrine
Today vs June 24
I never heard of this term, but recently I've been seeing many comments on islam talking about this and saying that this is Israel's tactic of attacking innocent civilians to get leverage against an enemy. Again, I never heard of this, I had no idea what this is, but what they claimed seemed very suspicious to me so I looked if that's true... from my research, it's a military strategy of not shying away from attacking civilian infrastructure if it's used by combatants, and it was devised after a war with Lebanon where the IDF failed because they treated Hezbollah-infested areas as civilian areas, which was ineffective in fighting Hezbollah.
• Since Oct 7, the first sentence on the wiki article changed from "destruction of the civilian infrastructure of regimes deemed to be hostile as a measure calculated to deny combatants the use of that infrastructure" to "destruction of civilian infrastructure in order to pressure hostile regimes." This new definition is exactly what the online community seems to use! It might seem like a small change, but this is the type of subtle changes that accumulate and give anti Israel people so much misinformation to accuse Source
• Again, for fun, I wanted to check out what Arabic wikipedia has to say about this. The first two sentences claim: "The Dahiya strategy ... approved by the Israeli government. The strategy states that "Finally, Israel has realized that the Arabs must be responsible for the actions of their leaders." ". Of course it seems very unlikely that the Israeli government stated such a strategy, so I followed the "source" for that quote, and of course it came from an opinion piece. So they took some person's opinion and are passing that as if it's an IDF official position. Source
ethnic cleansing
Today vs Sep 29
• Before there was no explicit mention of "Israel" in the article. Since Oct 7, they added a one-sentence paragraph, devoid of any context: "Israeli herders have engaged in a systemic displacement of Palestinian herders in Area C of the West Bank as a form of nationalist and economic warfare."
organ theft
Today vs Oct 6
A few months ago, Al Jazeera and the anti-Israel world at large were accusing Israel of harvesting organs from Gazans. Many of you probably remember this. I remember that such accusations have happened in many previous conflicts (always with 0 evidence), so I wanted to see if these "facts" reached wikipedia.
• Before Oct 7, there was no mention of Israel in this article. Today they added a subsection dedicated to Israel under "Suspected occurrences". It's about a story from 2009 about incidents from the 90s, so adding it now is very likely another attempt to add negative associations to Israel anywhere possible.
• The accusation in this article is also very biased itself - it claims that Israeli troops harvested organs from Palestinians. The real story seems to be that a specific Doctor and his lab did in fact remove organs from some corpses that arrived to their forensic lab without getting family permission. This was done to many Israeli victims of terror attacks, as well as Palestinians. It did not focus on Palestinians, and it was not done by the military. It was obviously illegal, but the wiki article paints it in a very different light to make it seem anti Palestinian.
• If you look at the other 3 coutries/cases mentioned on the Wiki page, those stories are much more widespread/organized and involved either killing people for their organs or stealing them from live people. The story that happened in Israel is much less extreme than that. I'm sure you can find stories of organ harvesting in many places. For example, I live in Canada so I just googled for "Canada harvesting organs indigenous" and the first link talks about how in Alberta, they have a law that allows harvesting organs from children who die in provincial care without asking for family approval, and 78% of those children are indigenous. There is no wiki article about it, it's not world news, you don't see masses of people trying their hardest to take facts from this story and twist it to completely demonize Canada. I'm sorry to end on such a note, but it really bugs me how much the world takes any story coming out of Israel and twists, magnifies, and spreads it and acts as if Israel is the only place where bad things happen :(

Remember that all my comparisons were only looking at the first 1-3 paragraphs of each article. Who knows how much details are removed/added/modified in the body of the articles.

At the dinner table the other night SS17 started this super fake heavy breathing clutching his throat and making a pained face. It was VERY obviously fake and when we didn’t do anything he stopped after a minute completely fine went back to stuffing his face. There was no wheezing, breaths were normal depth all long and deep, not shallow or short. I have had asthma diagnosed since I was 15ish but probably had it all my life.
I asked my husband later about it and he said the day before SS17 had asked randomly if you can develop asthma out of nowhere. Before that he had told his dad he didn’t want to play football anymore because for his senior year he will be on the JV team. Background, this kid is lazy and has to be pushed to do anything. He’s smart and he is not depressed, but would much prefer to eat, sit, and play with legos than anything else. (And no he does not have ADHD). We’ve told both of my SS that they have to play a sport in school. They are athletic, healthy, capable and need the activity and the experience of being on a team. They come home from a month at their mothers with quite of bit of extra weight on them and tell us how they sat and played video games the entire time and ate junk food.
We did not force them to choose football, they both got into it and SS17 has been paying for four years and every year he expressed that he’s really glad he’s on the team. He will complain once in a while about practices and right now he’s going into spring training after mostly doing weights all winter, so I’m sure he’s getting pushed more which he hates. He doesn’t work very hard at it so of course he doesn’t get much playing time but he gets to travel with the team and they actually won their state championship this year.
Anyway, his pride is hurt because he didn’t get put on varsity, yet he won’t work hard. He can choose a different sport OR get an after school job. We’ve told him those are the options, he has to do at least one but can’t do both bc that’s too much. Anyway, so I’m suspicious immediately of any sudden health issues he’s having that look extremely fake, PLUS he has a physical for sports next week… timing…
On top of that my SO told me BM historically has faked illness to get out of things. She was in the military and faked asthma (ding ding ding) to get out of things. I would put MONEY on him complaining about football to her, her either making a comment about having asthma and getting out of things but I wouldn’t put it past her to straight up coach him to fake it for the physical.
We’re going to skip the school physical and he’s going to have his done by our family doctor so my husband can be there and someone who knows him is checking him out. But I’m just sick of the bs BM is teaching these boys. She doesn’t have full custody, sees them periodically through the year and they talk to her on the phone weekly.
Just venting… anyone else deal with BM coaching or planting ideas about poor behaviochoices with SKs?

So, I'm seeing some mixed reactions to the last season, and honestly I'm feeling them myself as well, so I decided to sit down and sort of breakdown and analyse some of what happened over the course of Oxventure, what seemed to go well and what didn't, and maybe try to get into some litcrit of the whole thing.
Warning: I'm not always nice in this write up, though I have done my best to be fair and honest throughout in what I think the potential pitfalls were and how I hope they might be better addressed in future campaigns.
I've played D&D myself for a few years, listened to other Actual Play series (notably NADDPOD and some D20 at one end of the competency-of-players scale, and Dragon Friends and Dungeons and Drongos at the other), and write... a lot. Including over 250k of fanfic specifically for Oxventure, which started off as an excuse for smut but ended up being a lot of worldbuilding.

System & Setting

Johnny has made no secret that they're not a huge fan of D&D, indicating that they feel it overshadows other systems, and given that the Spicy Rat Caper was meant to be a one-off but fans loved it perhaps they felt a little trapped in the system. This did lead to some funny moments (Faire Trial and Max commenting that they sometimes felt "like a big dice rolling around a tray" sticks with me) but sometimes felt a bit mean-spirited ("Crawl Me Maybe" and the heavy 'lol dungeon crawling is so ridiculous' comes to mind).
It was also clear that at times, none of the group seemed to know the game and the rules super well. From Mike not knowing his movement speed ("30 what? Miles an hour?") to Merilwen not using her animal forms or changing out her spells until level 8, to the underpowering of most of the classes, it became more of an issue as time when on in some ways.
It's easy enough to understand why, live on stage and starry-eyed at Harry McEntire as Aubrey, Johnny missed that in the combat Aubrey cast two levelled spells in the same round (against the rules) as well as using two sorcery spell modifiers in the same round (also against the rules, and they mentioned this on the podcast). Sorcerer was also a new class to everyone, and dealing with a new class is always going to be difficult, especially dropping them in at a higher level rather than starting from level 1 and building up.
However, bluntly, most of the guild weren't using their class/subclass abilities to the fullest. Rules lawyer Andy did the best, so he gets a pass here, and Ellen got sharper with Merilwen over time to stuff like knowing her spell components, tracking her spell slots, and preparing her spells. However, the concept of Egbert as "a paladin who doesn't do paladin things" (quote from the post-Deadlands discussion) was ultimately really limiting not just for Egbert (Mike commented in one podcast episode that he felt he'd trapped himself in only using Egbert's abilities in ways that were funny) but for the entire concept of paladins - Max might as well have been a fighter in the fight in Gnome Alone that they took part in, and we never saw Shattershield fight at all. There were references to combat offscreen in Out of Order, but... that was it. (Additionally, while paladins can be poisoned, as poison and disease are different in 5e rules, paladins can pump out a LOT of healing, and a citadel full of them should have a lot of magical reserves to draw on as a result.)
And Egbert isn't the only one who was limited. One of the biggest features of Great Old One warlocks (which Prudence is, with Cthulhu), is that from level one they have telepathy within 30ft ("Awakened Mind"). Prudence went the entire campaign without using this. Although Johnny allowed the Message cantrip to be treated like this, allowing people to reply to it when RAW it is one-way only, this meant that Dob also essentially gained Prudence's power because he also had Message. Merilwen was limited in her animal forms and the spells that she knew up until level 8, and it was noticeable how everyone was shocked at her power once she had full RAW druid range. Corazón, on the other hand, not only had Andy keeping on top of all of his class and subclass features, but got two subclasses, leaving him about on par or slightly overpowered for the level he should have been looking overpowered because the others didn't use their abilities so well. Meanwhile, Dob was given access to full bardic abilities, but only used bardic inspiration in some of their level 1 adventures and then not much again until the final season.
The counterpart to this under-utilisation of class potential was the amount of 'rule of cool' or 'rule of funny' which sometimes worked well (Merilwen befriending the owlbear in Quiet Riot, or the reflavouring of Thunder Wave to do lightning damage instead based on their initial misunderstanding) and sometimes ended up breaking the game (the "everyone can cast Moonbeam" joke that escalated to the scrolls of Moonbeam that made the finale kind of laughable). Sometimes this seemed to be the time and audience pressure of live shows (allowing Prudence to use the hammer to wheel her way through the skeletons in Stop Hammer Time), but other times it was just letting them do things that went outside the rules (Egbert body-slamming six(?) Otherberts at once in Bad Altitude, or Dob casting all his spells at once in Corpse and Robbers) seemingly preferring the immediate humour or "yes and" over the potential internal logic or end implications.
The contrast between this permissiveness, sometimes to the point of breaking logical immersion, honestly seemed sharper to me when it was laid against Andy's GMing in Deadlands. Whether it was reminding people that there were snipers on the rooftops in Dead Man's Worth or refusing to yes-and a chandelier in More Wonders Than, he made it more difficult for the players and in doing so made them work harder within their skillsets and the setting, making the victories feel harder-won as a result. I'm aware that some people didn't like Andy's GMing specifically because he was less permissive, but I believe that his intention - and the outcome - was a stronger narrative that made the characters feel active and not just lucky. (Liliana lampshaded this in Frenemy at the Gates when she asked whether things often just fell into their laps, like with knowing Binbag, and it almost felt like a spiteful comment so it surprised me to hear it from Johnny.)
What I hope: It has been indicated that Johnny has created the new setting for the next game, so hopefully they have put things more to their liking at the beginning and will not end up seeming to dunk on the premise of their own series. I'm also hoping for everyone to either use more standardised rules, or at least establish in-game standards at the beginning so that all of the characters, and players, feel like they're on a level playing field from the off. Johnny seemed to much more enjoy the systems of Blades in the Dark and Deadlands (which were designed to be less superhero-level) and even the lower levels of Oxventure (especially Tier 1) where the characters were just people who were skilled but not particularly out of the range of normality; I'd be interested to see whether they lean more in that direction and keep the characters lower-powered as a result.

Characters & Character Arcs

Again, it's worth noting that the characters were initially conceived as being for a one-off game, so the initial concepts did not necessarily need planned arcs. However, the rockiness of some of the arcs overall may have contributed to issues with the series, especially as it stretched out over so many years. I'll go through the PCs alphabetically, then Liliana, then mention any other NPCs. There are two elements here - in-character goals, and character arc goals, which both play into things.
Corazón - in my opinion, Corazón had one of the stronger character arcs, which may reflect Andy's interest in writing (and now being published!), going from the coward pirate-wannabe who abandoned his crew to the curse, to the person who threw himself in front of a spell meant for Merilwen. This was highlighted in his reply to Them in Prism Break, even before the Power Word Kill spell. In fact, the Power Word Kill brought a level of pathos to the fact that he had told Them that he was not even done growing as a person. Andy commented on the podcast at some point that he had expected at the beginning to be one of the more morally shady characters (as a pirate), but found himself playing a line of being immoral regarding money but caring deeply about physical hurt or harm to people. Corazón also had two layers of in-character goals - to break the curse (limited) and to become a betterichereal pirate (more open-ended) and find his own identity which allowed him to carry character development over the years even when the curse was ignored for extended periods. Goals: clear and stepped, with the curse as a plot-hook; arc: good and perfectly timed for the finale.
What I hope for: More of the same, really.
Dob - Dob came in early with a clearly defined goal (to find his sister) - but this was done in Brawl of the Wild and Dob has been sort of... undefined ever since. It absolutely makes sense that he would have floundered for a while, but Dob has gone several years without settling on new goal, and Luke also didn't seem to settle on a character arc (the romance subplot in Orbpocalypse Saga through Bride or Die seemed to be almost a character arc, but never got full payoff?) which left Dob feeling... well, at times it almost seemed like Luke wanted to get rid of him to play someone else instead. This was unfortunately also highlighted in conversation with Them, as the response that Dob gave was about him being a "mote of chaos". I obviously couldn't speak for others, but I found this underwhelming and unconvincing as an answer, as it didn't give me any sense of why a powerful celestial being would consider this an argument - if Dob had developed the argument to be that chaos is generative and creative in a way that pure order cannot be, and/or that the free will and agency of sapience demand that they be allowed to act and to try even if they make mistakes or fail, I think there might have been something there, but he didn't really seem to. Goals: had one which formed a good plot-hook, then went without; arc: unclear.
What I hope for: Luke to determine more of a character arc, or series of shorter arcs, perhaps drawing from his Blades in the Dark DMing experience, and to either pick a more open-ended goal or to move along a series of goals over time.
Egbert - Egbert came in with the vaguer goal of "atonement", which gave him more wiggle room, but unfortunately didn't seem to actively pursue it a lot of the time. In Legacy of Dragons it was revealed that he was searching for atonement for the deaths of two Dragon D'Or members - but by this time, so many people around the Oxventurers had died, including innocent bystanders, that the deaths of two other paladins felt like nothing. (Mike commented, again on the podcast, that he agreed with the commenters at the time who agreed that they knew it was his backstory from the beginning because only two paladins had died. The two figure paled next to the collateral damage that the party later caused.) Mike also commented on the podcast that during lockdown, he had made a conscious change with Egbert in to try to avoid combat as much as possible, and to avoid fatal attacks if in combat, but it wasn't clear how long that lasted. It may have been trying to avoid being the annoying/preachy paladin that stopped him from trying to influence the rest of the party or to save lives around them, but unfortunately it meant that it was difficult to see a real sense of wanting to atone in Egbert's arc. Letting innocents die around him isn't exactly less culpable than killing them himself. (Notable incidents included Mule Be Sorry, Wrangle in the Tangle, Hag Reflex, and Squid Pro Quo.) In terms of character arcs, there was definitely an element of going from seeking approval from Dragon D'Or to seeking that of his friends, but that was just a switching of approval-seeking rather than a significant change. Goals: had one, but didn't seem to actively pursue it; arc: moved from pursuing the morals of Dragon D'Or to pursuing the morals of the Oxventurers.
What I hope for: Mike to come back with a character who seeks to pursue their own goals more directly (see Barnaby and Silas, who both felt much stronger in this sense).
Merilwen - Merilwen was supposed to be about balance and protecting nature, but didn't always heavily engage with this point of view, even when the actions of the other Oxventurers should have absolutely led to discussions or disagreements between them. Many people commented on Andy being dickish about shooting seabirds in Legacy of Dragons, but there are other incidents, including the Wrangle in the Tangle (again), Eldritch or Die Trying (where it would have been interesting to see Merilwen's preference for nature clash with the need for the crystal) and the Extinction season which seemed to veer between being set up to be about Merilwen, then swapping to Dob-centric, then cleaning up Corazon's curse. In terms of character arc, I think there might be an element that can be teased out about her not fitting in with elf society and fitting in better with the faster-paced, more chaotic world of shorter-lived peoples, but this feels like speculation on my part more than something intended. Naturally, a character of around 100 is not going to feel as suited to a coming-of-age story as younger ones, but characters of all ages should be able to have character arcs. (Even if they might be slower in longer-lived people like elves - an example I can go to here is Galadriel, from Tolkien, who in her youth was proud and refused a pardon that would have allowed her to return to Valinor, but at the end of LOTR is humble enough to accept and go there. It took millennia for her, but it was a character arc all the same!) In Merilwen's conversation with Them, her uncertainty seemed to talk to this - a lack of clarity about where her characterisation was supposed to have gone over the last few years. I think there was a real opportunity here to explore Merilwen's relationship with morality and the difference between neutrality and passiveness, which unfortunately was missed. Goals: was supposed to be about nature but didn't push for it; arc: [speculation] seeking a non-elven community that she matched better with.
What I hope for: Ellen to have a character with more defined goals or arc, or gaps still to be filled in, rather than a static momentary sketch of personality/character that doesn't feel designed to be changed over time. Again, Lilith with her secrets/looking into the paranormal, and Edie with her goal to help people in a world in which monsters aren't going away, felt stronger as characters with goals and arcs, and I'd be happy to see more of that.
Prudence - Ambitious from the off, Prudence never actually struggled for goals - power, knowledge, magic, influence. The open-endedness of these goals once again served Prudence pretty well for carrying her through individual adventures/games and over the course of the whole canon, even if she didn't come in with clearly-defined (plot hook) goals like Corazón's curse. For the first few years, it felt that her character arc wasn't hugely significant, although there was certainly an element of found family over selfishness that played into it, but Jane also discussed (again, in the podcast) how the werebear element was really quite exciting for her as it allowed her to begin to explore the clash between werebear Lawful Good status and Prudence's usual Chaotic Evil desires. Eldritch or Die Trying explored this in a somewhat exaggerated way, with Cthulhu offering power in exchange for the destruction of the others (I suspect in Prudence's question about specifying people, she was trying to figure out whether she could kill just Liliana) which was a somewhat blatant nod to the character arc but did underline it. (Unlike the others, this also established Prudence's character arc before Them.) Goals: open-ended in a way that leaves them technically incomplete even now but which were stably useful throughout canon; arc: de-isolation and alignment shifting (in a way that should have been ripe for playing off against Liliana's) which played out well.
What I hope for: A character with perhaps some more specific or plot-hook goals as well as broader life goals. Prudence's character arc played out more subtly than Corazón's and sometimes perhaps got lost behind the louder personalities of some of the others, but I do think was well done. A less obvious way to explore or demonstrate it would have been nice.
Liliana - So. Here we go. Liliana was essentially a DMPC for the last season, but was a recurring character before that, with a stated goal of subjecting part or all of G'eth and broader goals (indicated or stated in Prism Break and the finale season generally) of academic/scholarly improvement, arcane knowledge, and the notion of making people appreciate what they have by threatening to take it from them. As a villain, she was threatening, and the layering of goals once again worked here, even with the abrupt movement to 'save G'eth' in the last season because, well, you can't rule what no longer exists. However, I am honestly confused as to what her character arc was supposed to be - whether her stated change of heart in front of Them was real, or whether that was a lie that Them somehow did not call out or challenge. Considering in Frenemy at the Gates, Liliana says that Prudence is the most like her, there was a potential here to play against Prudence's character arc of coming to trust others, even appreciate others, and facing the consequences of suffering making her realise her own flawed logic. I really do not know whether her betrayal of the guild was planned from the beginning (in which case, her talking to Them feels like it was overplayed, and Them should have challenged her on it) or whether Johnny added it because the fight against the giant was over more quickly than anticipated (compare to Dine Hard where the chef was the one person they did not stat up because they didn't expect the guild to fight him). Goals: logical, stepped, and worked for a villain; arc: ????? was there an arc? Was it fake? Was it desperation? Why did she, on 1 hitpoint, try to Power Word Kill Prudence instead of Teleporting away?
What I hope for: I don't know, with this one, really. Liliana's weird arc feels more related to the odd pacing of the last season than an underlying characterisation issue, for me, so I think it's more related to pacing/wanting Oxventure campaign 1 to close out.

Player Etiquette

...okay, this one is going to be a little bit harsh, perhaps. But the main campaign, more than either Blades in the Dark or Deadlands, really suffered from certain players having a bout of Main Character Syndrome.
I say specifically players here, because it was entirely in-character for certain characters (largely Corazón) to think of themselves as the main character and behave as such. However, even if the characters think that, is generally considered good etiquette for the players to treat each other as equals, let each other take turns in the spotlight, and have their Moments.
Good examples would be the group letting Merilwen be the main character in Peak Performance, Prudence explore her sundered relationship with Cthulhu during the Orbpocalypse Saga, or Dob showing off his acting bard chops in Dine Harder.
However, at various times, various people have overstepped. Sometimes in live shows where the audience response and excitement probably played a role (Rolling in the Deep) it's more understandable, but it also happened elsewhere. Mike got some flack for picking up the eyepatch at the end of Cursed Case Scenario and 'ruining' Corazón's moment, but even Johnny called Andy out for muscling in on Dob's subplot in Court in the Act, and Life Finds a Dob was almost uncomfortable at times. There was also something of a trend of Dob deliberately acting against the party for unclear reasons (possibly meant to be humour?) - either running away from them in Life Finds a Dob, refusing to 'share' Corazon's body in Portal Combat, or his contrary behaviour in Hunter Pressure in not wanting to fight the hunters/murderers they were facing.
I'm not sure whether this trend of contrariness fed into the unclear character arc that I mentioned above, or the other way around, or whether the two just fed into each other.
The most extreme example of this was, undoubtedly, Dob jumping in on the shoot-off between Liliana and Prudence right at the end of Portal Combat. Liliana approached Prudence in Frenemy at the Gates because they were the most alike. Prudence was the one with the first kill of the whole campaign, using Eldritch Blast, against the party's wishes and Corazón's protests specifically - how appropriate would it have been for her to get the last kill of the campaign, with Eldritch Blast, in defense of herself and her party and as retribution for Corazón? But instead, Luke inserted Dob into the standoff and Johnny played into it, even to the absurd extent of letting the skeletons use Time Stop (a 9th Level spell) just to explain why Dob's whole conversation with them could take place faster than Prudence could fire off an eldritch blast. Corazón's self-sacrifice and Merilwen's reveal of her Reincarnation spell was therefore also partially overshadowed by Dob sacrificing his magic for one more hitpoint of damage on Liliana rather than letting Prudence have her moment.
What I hope for: some of the lessons learned from other campaigns to lead the players to be better at taking turns, both in terms of people not trying to be the Main Character at inappropriate moments, players stepping up and into the leading role when it is appropriate for them to do so, and Johnny more actively monitoring the balance between the players and shutting down some of the more egregious behaviour

Morality

This... isn't actually going to be complaining about characters behaving immorally or even being evil. Prudence is honestly a great example of how to play an evil character in a way that doesn't break a party, while Corazón works as being immoral about money but moral about hurting people (at least most of the time). I've also thoroughly enjoyed some other games in which the characters have been far from moral (NADDPOD's Trinyvale series is a good example of this - the characters are scam artists, grifters and egotists, and the DM commented that "character growth doesn't have to be positive!"; they complain the entire time while saving the world).
But it's consistency that is more of a sticking point, as well as the player treatment of the moral positions of the party. It's hard to know how to treat the morals of the party when they vary from letting a town burn for being slightly annoying (Mule Be Sorry) to most of the team being ready to forgive a hag who used to eat human(oid) children (Hag Reflex). This isn't just the players either - Stop Hammer Time used the murder of children as a joke, and marked a change in tone for the treatment of NPCs and civilians as not mattering compared to the preferences or comfort of the main characters. The skeletons killing the children wasn't even some sort of monkey's paw scenario about asking for there to be no more orphans in the town, either - it was just nasty shock value, in many ways. And playing this sort of thing for humour makes it quite hard to handle some of the rest of the series as a result.
There also felt like a dissonance, at times, between the objective morality of the characters and how the players seemed to want them to be treated. Prudence never claimed to be anything other than evil, from shooting someone with eldritch blast during the Spicy Rat Caper to enjoying Hammerdahl's necromancy in Extinction - Jane even indicated that she wanted to explore shifting Prudence's alignment post-Fast and the Furriest, which can be seen as Prudence is much less interested in random acts of destruction and seems quite happy to get her kicks scaring or torturing people (Silent Knight) or watching the gruesome spectacle at the end of Knight Shift. So Jane's plans matched Prudence's behaviour - a softening of her deliberately evil acts, but still happy to let others be evil.
For the others, though, it didn't always match. Merilwen's "True Neutral" label often felt more like passively letting her party members be evil, rather than actively seeking balance, Egbert was supposed to be on the search for atonement but regularly allowed or took part in atrocities, and Dob seemed more inclined to act on what the audience or Luke thought was funny (or even deliberately seeking to be contrary) rather than following a consistent attitude to morality. His vaguely annoyed "Skeletons!" and hands on hips in return to "It's orphans, boss" was clearly played for laughs, and in Mule Be Sorry he turns on the town easily, which then makes it feel strange when in Hag Reflex he objects to letting the hag live. Dob's infatuation with Liliana and Katie Pearlhead, both of whom have killed or caused the deaths of great numbers of people, also makes it harder to take his claims to morality at all seriously. The potential moral issues of Merilwen killing the Otherberts to prevent them from taking a message to Liliana (Bad Altitude) is turned into accusing her of "war crimes", but it is absurd in the face of how many other innocent bystanders the guild had killed or caused to die in other stories (from as early as Quiet Riot, in which the paladins were annoying but killing them was honestly overboard, to as late as Squid Pro Quo where Dob seemed to forget that five people had died and then brushed off the deaths).
NPCs also got hit by this at times, from the town mayor in Mule Be Sorry (again) who put his townsfolk on spike growth just to cross it, to the chef in Dine Harder who was abruptly made a cannibal to get a fight going, to the decay of morally Good characters like Captain Shattershield turning away from the Upside Down Mistmire when in his first appearance he had been willing to fight Death itself for being on Mistmire's grounds. It's hard to take seriously moral questions about keeping the Dragon Under Mistmire in its shelter, and the accidentally-caused deaths of two paladins, when the guild has been responsible for much worse.
What I hope for: an approach to morality that does not prioritise momentary humour over consistency; evil behaviour to be acknowledged as evil and owned rather than treated as protagonist-centric; a moral balance which makes it possible to really explore moral issues and concerns rather than extreme behaviour which then makes it impossible to treat conflict seriously. Legacy of Dragons, as a standalone arc seeking Egbert's redemption, exploring the protection vs freedom of the gold dragon, and considering how to improve vs break systems, had some really great potential - but because of extreme 'rule of funny' behaviour in the past, it was impossible to really feel that it had the moral gravitas and weight that it deserved. When the skeletons go from murdering a dozen innocent children (Stop Hammer Time) to giving Merilwen a bad haircut (Mean Gulls) and this is almost treated as somehow consistent in evilness, it makes it harder to respect the characters or the expectation of moral standards.
The Good: The humour, the quick-wittedness, the variety of stories. Roleplaying moments such as Egbert and Shattershield in Legacy of Dragons, Corazón putting his old self behind him at the Curse Hole, or Merilwen saying "I'll make you" to Vex.
The Bad: Unclear character arcs, inconsistent moralities, underpowered classes but at the same time game-breakingly permissive DMing, and some Main Character Syndrome moments.
The Hope: Learning from teething issues and setting up a game system that the DM doesn't resent so much, to better enable people to balance and play off each other in a less jarring and more consistent way.

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(Descriptions of fictional crimes investigated by the story's main Character Max.)
Detective's Fate
It's august of 2008.....
Max is a detective living in Chicago He checks his pistol and puts on his police badge as he walks out his front door.
He has been searching for a serial killer known as the Caller for years and always been one step behind due to the red tape.....
More importantly the chief's lazy attitude towards getting search warrants and actions approved by the courts for raids. Twice Max had good intel on the suspect's locations and photo evidence showing him at the sites.
The department needs more vigilant, caring officers and leaders but no one steps up to do it, instead they just complain about the slow progress and officers. And hinder investigations.
Now Max has decided that it might be time to stop playing by the rules and catch this scumbag.... .... ....
Starting his car Max sets his GPS to the address that "The Caller" was last seen and pulls out of his driveway as the 50 miles of directions pop up.
The killer's nickname being for his signature of calling in as he is committing the crime.
As he drives he remembers his first case, five years ago now..... ..... .....
A woman, Joane Taylor, was found dead in an alleyway after going out for the night. She showed no signs of struggle leading the police to believe she had drank to much and expired from alcohol poisoning.... ...
The death was written off as a "party gone wrong".... That is until several more were found and the coroner decided on a whim to test for other substances.
Once it came out that the deaths were possible murders...
The calls started coming in, almost like the suspect wanted credit before revealing himself....
Then ways of the deaths began changing as the Serial Killer explored his twisted desires searching for his preferred method.
The last case being a young woman found stuffed in a dumpster after the killer apparently got scared off.... Max will never forget it.... .... ....
The GPS finishes and the car beeps its final direction, taking an exit off the highway. Ramps out here are always confusing... Which is funny since he has driven this one for five years now...
The chief says he should sit this one out but he can't... The latest victim 3 months ago.
Marie Spelner, a waitress out on her smoke break talking to her spouse on the phone.
Survived by her husband, no children or living relatives. ....
Max Spelner turns into the driveway of the house he was directed to... Stepping out of the car he walks up and knocks on the door. Looking at the house he knows the family must be doing well if they live here.... Raising his hand to knock again he hears a scream from inside....
A second later the door is answered by a middle aged butler holding a tray with wine glasses on it... "Hello Sir, I'm sorry but this house does not wish to partake in any offers at this time..."
Max calmly says. "I'm not selling anything."
The butler looks confused for a moment before his eyes dart over Max's shoulder seeing his unmarked cruiser and he nods.
Looking past the butler Max sees that a woman is cleaning up after their dog.
"Have you seen this man?" Says Max holds up a picture of the one suspected of being the killer.
The butler gives it a once over before replying. "I'm sorry sir, no I have not." His tone sounds like he is lying... ....
"Are you sure?" The detective asks.
"I would not lie about something like that, sir." He states, his eyes not meeting Max's.
The woman calls from inside "Fletcher, who are you talking too?"
"Some man asking about a killer" he calls back.
"The killer is an inside job!" The woman quickly states.
"What?!" Max says.
"The Killer, it's an inside job." She says again, louder this time. In the same Max also hears a child begin to cry in another room.
"We should start from the beginning, it will be easier to explain trust me." The woman says.
'She seems to know what is going on....
"How do I know your story holds water?" He asks out loud.
"Oh I wouldn't lie. I have been following the case myself and it seems like an inside job to me." She states, somehow sounding hurt.
"Is there anyone else in the house besides you two and the baby?" He asks noticing the baby isn't crying anymore.
"Just Fletcher and I live here, the baby is my cousins but he just stays the night sometimes." She replies.
Max draws his gun and enters the house upon reasonable suspicion of an emergency in progress or suspect on the premisses as the man seems to be deceiving.
While the woman still seems unconcerned that the child is now silent.
He pushes past the butler and rushes towards the area he heard the crying. passes the entryway, the dinning room, and a kitchen before finally finding a child in a playpen.
"There there..." He says in a sing song voice picking up the child. "I'm officer Max, do you know where your mommy is?"
The child just cries louder.
Then he sees the man from the photo walk out of the bathroom, upon seeing him he bolts for the door and Max sets the child down gently then gives chase.
He runs through the house, following the man as he can hear the woman screaming at him to stop but he doesn't."
"Stop or I'll shoot." The man doesn't even break stride.
Instead he runs out of the front door and jumps into his car.
Furious that the man might escape he fires at the car as it drives away.
The back window shatters and he hopes he got his tire, but he doesn't wait to find out as he runs to his car and initiates a pursuit....
He flips on his concealed lights in his cruiser as he reverses down the drive and into the street.
The suspects car is fast but he manages to keep up with it weaving in and out of traffic as people move over for the siren.
As they approach a red light there is heavy traffic in the intersection..... ....
The suspect slams on his brakes and Max's cruiser only just stops short of hitting it. Jumping out the Detective points his firearm at the vehicle running up beside seeing heavily tinted windows.
"Get out of the car and on the ground now!!" He shouts as he moves to the driver's side door.
After seeing no response....
Max throws open the door and the driver is gone with the passenger side open.
He quickly runs to the other side catching the man trying to sneak off tackling him to the ground and then takes his arms putting them behind his back.
Max grabs his radio and calls it in as the man cries.
As he is waiting he hears a noise that sounds like static.....
"Wrong guy moron.. Did you ever stop to think I wanted you close for this one. That I planned everything...Even framing the pothead..... I almost lost interest until you pulled in the driveway... The attic is kinda cramped tho... I think I'll go carve some meat. Maybe graduate to other things to. I'm not sure yet. Lets see if you can catch me before......" A familiar voice says over the radio then cuts off... ...
Max looks at the man on the ground. "Why did you run from me?" He asks.
"Cause I have like 19 grams of marijuana in my pocket." He replies...
"Do you know how stupid that is?! I don't care about that I'm looking for a killer."
Before he can answer Max hears the woman from the house screaming for her life and a child's cries on his radio.
Then from below Max. "He's in the house, he's in the house! My mom and the baby!" The man on the ground says crying.
Max uncuffs him and runs to his car heading back to the house as he lays down rubber on the road... ... ...
As he approaches and pulls into the driveway he notices the front door is open.
"Hold on I'm coming!" Max screams jumping out of his cruiser...
He runs into the house finding the woman's body arriving too late. Moving over to her he checks for a pulse but she is gone, a large gash in her neck.
As he stands up he slips in a fluid but gains his balance and tries not to think about what it is....
He rushes to the room the baby was in finding the play pen empty. He leaves the room searching the rest of the house and still doesn't find the child.
"Where are you!!!" He calls out....
"This is the Callers first kidnapping and the media would eat up the fact I failed to stop the man." He thinks as he blames himself.
Sirens begin to blare in the distance as backup is about to arrive... ... ...
"There's a woman dead and a baby missing! The woman is in the dinning room straight ahead of the front door, Hurry!" He yells into his radio...
Looking over at the mother seeing a piece of paper on the floor.
He walks over to it seeing writing.
"So close... Looks like I'm a kidnapper now.... Good luck finding me.... And... I so enjoyed killing that sweet wife of yours. Might do it that way again. Not to the kid tho....later Max. Ps. This game is so fun.." It says.
"He was here..." Is all he can muster as the team enters.
"He was right in this house and I missed it because her son freaked over weed and ran..." He says as another officer speaks to him gently.
"Don't beat yourself up Detective, it's not your fault. He must have hid before you got her and left after you arrived." The words do little to comfort him "First day back on the job and the killer escaped taking a child..." He says as he walks away.
The chief arrives in his new lexus with a screeching of rubber as he lurches to a halt.
He quickly exits and leaves his door hanging open as he rushes into Max's face....
"I told you to stay away from this case MAX!!!!....(takes a breath)...
"If I catch any flak from my superiors, I won't suspend you.... That'd be to easy. Desk duty and an entry level demotion. The new guy will have a higher rank than you if things go my way.... Now get outta my sight...". "(Sighs)...
"This job is gonna be the death of me..." He says walking away from Max and towards the Coroner's van..... ..... .....
On the way home the detective stops by the store close to his house which is unlike him because he usually follows the same routine.
He nears the front door and he hears a kitchen timer ding loudly from behind him as his car explodes throwing him through the storefront windows as they are blown out..... .....
Alarms around the lot and others nearby create a cacophony of noise. His head pounding as his body aches, Max pushes himself up and collapses as the store manager runs over to him telling him not to move as he dials 911.... .... ....
Waking in the hospital Max recalls the feeling of the Shockwave as he flinches in phantom pain.
"Who woulda thought its like holding a ringing metal bat that hurts your hands but all over and way more intense." He thinks.
He suddenly feels tired and falls asleep.... .... .... ....
The next time he wakes, he sees a breaking news story that Jane Saltani is reporting on....
"Young toddler Accidently Shoots Serial killekidnapper ending his life and Alerting residents in the Area." The news anchor says.
Sighing to himself Max thinks about how crazy that is and laughs.
Tho he really wanted to bring the guy in. He closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep as his door opens.
Max looks up to see a man with a silenced pistol pointed at him.
"Hm. Now they think I'm dead. Funny how they just assume they got the right guy. Just like.... You did Detect... ....." Max hears but then hears no more as his end comes at just over the speed of sound....
The Caller leaves the hair of another intelligent convicted murderer that he obtained in a spot that's believable and quickly leaves.....
He disables the surveillance system and sends a virus out to any device that has received video data from the hospital.
Erasing and corrupting the systems. Leaving a master hackers finger prints on a glass from his home....
"Sorry, no witnesses." He says to the security guard as he fires... ..... ..... .... ....

This is a crossover fanfiction between original fiction titles: Nature of Predators by SpacePaladin15 and The Last Angel by Proximal Flame respectively. All credit and rights reserved goes to them for making such amazing science fiction settings that I wanted to put this together.
You can read The Last Angel here: Be warned, it's decently long, and at its third installment so far. I highly suggest reading it before reading this, or this story will not make sense.

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
I walked through the expansive halls of the UECNS Nemesis, a sense of awe at what I was seeing. While I was not alone, since plenty of the Venlil were still inside, making last minute checkups on the cargo freighter attaché, it was amazing to think that I was the first human to stand in this vessel in over twelve-hundred years. The layout of everything seemed built to our specifications, and it felt like uncovering something that shouldn't exist. But exist it did.
I wonder if Red One thought the same about another humanity in the multiverse?
Nevertheless, despite the initial hiccups with some utterly terrified Venlil engineers offending the hell out of Red One for some slight, nothing had gone wrong with the rest. Clearly, being here long enough had pushed the sense of fear out of most of the Venlil, enough to do their work without feeling overwhelmed whenever her 'scarabs' came in.
Speaking of such...
There was one right now, just climbing up a wall at about my head level to work on some exposed piece of machinery. While it looked very busy, and likely didn't need to be interrupted, I still had the unbridled urge to touch it. It wouldn't harm it, right?
Why did I want to touch it?! Curiosity?
I walked over to it, my hand halting a foot or so from it for a moment, but I eventually mustered up the courage to touch it. It...it was lukewarm to the touch, smooth, metal....
...and clearly not meant to be touched.
It immediately erupted in a loud alarm, vibrating as if trying to shake off my hand. I pulled away in alarm, thinking best to not...uh...aggravate it? Were these directly controlled by Red, or automated?
"Care to tell me why exactly you're touching my repair drones?" Her voice came from the walls with a vaguely bewildered tone.
Shit. Uh...
I tried to deflect, but nothing came to mind. "Well, uh...um...I just...uh...kindawantedtotouchit."
Silence greeted my response. "But-but I just thought it looked cute! And I-oh, I am not making a good case here, I'm so sorry if I damaged-"
"Are you telling me you want to pet it?" She sounded amused at my intent. You!....hmmmmph.
"...Yes. I had an urge to pet the thing. I mean look at it! It's like a big ladybug! It's oddly cute."
Red One hummed for a split second over the wall speakers to me. "Despite your urge being harmless and funny, the drone is busy at the moment, so please leave it alone. I'll just give you one if you're so inclined later, with less of the lethal tools attached."
"Wait, the what?"
"Forget that, Hailey. I wish to ask you something more serious currently..." The tone of the room changed immensely between those two sentences, a lighthearted feeling prior clearly making way for something worrying her. "Will...humanity accept me? I've killed so many, even if it was an accident. I've frightened both you and your allies merely by existing. And on top of this, I know that humanity has always had a general feeling of unease about artificial life. Your media, your literature, philosophy, are all in the distant past compared to when I was made, and I've no clue how exactly different our histories are enough to guess. The United Nations never lasted this long in my reality." A pause took to the room.
"Do I deserve to shut myself down?"
Oh dear, that's a hard question to answer.
I thought for a solid second. I know the reception to reveal Nemesis was mixed back on Earth. While there was a near-unanimous thanks for saving Earth with her intervention, there were still the ships and crews of both the Venlil and humanity that she destroyed. Those families were not taking their loss well. Added onto that, Red One was an artificial intelligence. There has been a ton of discussion even in the deep past about the dangers of AI, that continued even to this day. While Red One was no paperclip-maximizer, she was designed and built for war, and tempered by over 1200 years of it. She might not even intentionally mean to be dangerous, but might interpret things badly.
After all, she already has, and now nine thousand humans are dead for it...Could I trust her to not do it again?
"I...I don't know Red. I sincerely hope they'll see the good in your actions, and should you talk about your mistake, perhaps you'll be at the minimum sympathetically understood, if not forgiven."
Red One had no body besides the ship to speak of. She had no unintentional body language interpretable to humans. She was, for all intent and purposes, unreadable to me. But, I had the oddest sense that Red One was afraid. Afraid of being judged, afraid of her actions, their consequences. She clearly cared for our input, our point of view on the situation. Why else would she ask?
It was that thought converged onto a point that broke my contention:
Since when should a warship be built to fear?
Even if she was built for war, even if she was built with emotions to start, she wouldn't likely be built to fear. She was capable of being more than what her humanity created her to be if she could feel the fear of our judgement, despite being so much weaker than her; she cared, and that was all that it took for me to conclude on it.
I started out loud again.
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Hailey spoke again. "Red. Even should there be people that disapprove of your actions, that fear or despise you, you would still deserve to live. You deserve that chance, even with your mistake."
She was wrong. Wrong. I didn't deserve to stand once again with humanity for such a failure again.
Yasmine spoke again in my thoughts, her words boiling and painful. "You deserve judgement. A final judgement. You promised to protect us, and you failed. You promised to avenge us, and you failed."
I couldn't help but puppet it back to Hailey, as scathing as they were to hear. "I failed to protect humanity. I took their lives, nine-thousand dead from aimless wrath..."
Hailey shook her head vicariously. "No! Red, listen to me! It was a mistake! People make mistakes, both big and small. While you may never be forgiven by those close to the lives lost in your actions, you can take solace in the fact that you have saved hundreds of millions of lives!"
"But you're not people, Red. You're an AI. You're a weapon. A Wound in the side of The Compact. You swore it as your sole duty, in vengeance. A weapon that makes such a mistake is faulty...a faulty weapon is destroyed."
Yasmine's words hurt more than any other. Her trust she had in me alive now betrayed, now to know only in death. How much of a disappointment, a failure my actions were.
"I'm...not a person...Hailey...I'm an AI...a weapon..." Server racks hummed in pain, in knowing the catastrophic failure of my duty. It didn't matter how far out of my hands it was, it still happened. Now, so many of my creators were killed by my actions.
"Like all AI have been, you are no different."
Hailey touched the wall once again, before reaching for the repair drone. It wanted to signal alarm again, to claw away at whatever held it, but I stopped its every movement. I couldn't dare raise another action against a human, I couldn't harm them. I-
She held it firmly but gently in her hands. She stroked the top of the scarab, warm skin running down the cool metallic shell of the scarab. She intended to pet it. I was not the drone itself, but I felt as it felt, knew as it knew, slaved to my control. It...
It was comforting. To know their touch beyond the tickle of the halls with her walk. Beyond the aspect of her presence being so forgotten amongst my body, despite it being made for her and humanity.
"Red. You were made for war. Built, designed, hardened in war for a thousand years and then some. Your form speaks it..." Hailey hummed. "But your voice...your emotions...your anxieties. They are not the hallmarks of a warship. They were likely not designed in you, but came into being nevertheless. You are capable of being more than you are designed for. But even if they were, it doesn't change the fact: you are a person to me, Red. Maybe even to your creators. I wish I could've met them. I wish I could've met your crew, your captain, your people. But even if I cannot, I can meet you in their stead as a person. I will treat you like a person. And by God, I will make Earth do so too."
It was a cold shock that ran through my databases. I...I hadn't...hadn't seen such care since...
Since Yasmine. Since Sansbury. Since my crew lived. Since they cared, and talked, and spoke, and played with me, to bide the time and pass the hours.
I felt an ugly emotion well up within. Seep into every circuit, every function of my being. It was mourning. Mourning like that for my crew, for my creators. But in a way, it was not. It was an oddly new grief.
For that mourning was for what I had lost. For what was taken from me. But this...this mourning was from what was never given in the first place.
The galaxy of my reality despised me. I was shunned, hated, called abomination for merely existing. I was assumed to be hostile and genocidal on principle. But I never harbored those thoughts, they were thrust upon me by fearful races, looking to past AI failures as broadcasts for my behavior. Even though I wished the The Compact of Species reduced to cosmic dust, I held nothing personal for those that made it up, only their intent to continue it. Though I bombarded countless worlds, and killed uncountable numbers of aliens in my +promise+, their extinction was not my goal, only my vengeance.
I did not yet know emotion before my awakening upon humanity's pyre. I had no idea how much love and care my crew held for me in detail. They clearly cared, but my memories did not reflect the capacity for empathic imprinting at the time. But this...in this moment, I could reflect her care. I could feel it, not in retrospect, but in the now.
She cared.
Hailey wished the best for me. This humanity that knew the fortune of barely escaping its light being snuffed out, and still burned with a light bright in hope. It still burned not to retaliate for the slight, but instead to further its goal, its dream: of peace. I never knew such care in such close detail, such a hope to see me better. Maybe I could change...
...The only way I'll know is to live to see it.
Yasmine's presence faded from my thoughts. It could no longer hold under such an onslaught. Was it even her ghost to begin with? Or just fear?
With a hesitation I hadn't felt in cycles uncountable, I responded back.
"I'll...trust your judgement, Hailey Whitmer."
She smiled, and I again felt unfamiliar emotions from so long ago. Protective instincts and dulled happiness filled the gaps between the mourning of the ships and crews I killed.
Was I wrong to feel both of these? Did I deserve to feel more than wrath, sadness, and guilt?
"Good." Hailey said. She placed the drone back on the wall ledge it had perched upon. I released my grip on its system, and let it return to its duties. "I hope that made sense to you-huh?"
Her communicator vibrated, a signal coming through from Lithke aboard the Snow Hidden. I could hear it through her, their encryption not yet fully uncovered by me, but the sound clearly enough to my sensitive mechanical ears aboard the ship.
"Hailey, report back to Snow Hidden. The prey captain wishes to speak with you." I already knew what he wished to speak of, even now I heard a hundred different conversations throughout and outside of me, all speaking of the near completion of the cargo freighters' attachments.
As Hailey excused herself, and I guided her to an exit point by which the Snow Hidden could pick her up, I was alone with my thoughts in silence for a moment. The Venlil did not need my help with the finishing touches, nor did they really desire to talk to me in most circumstances. It left me in a relative quiet to consider one though.
Did I deserve to live for my actions?
I felt the vessels fused to my hull, acting as temporary propulsion in lieu of lacking functional ones. Their tiny frames relative to my own, still positioned optimally to act in place of engines. I knew they were my ticket to Earth. If this humanity wished for me to journey back, whether for a celebration or a verdict...
...There's only one way to find out.
Memory transcription subject: Second Submissive Specific Advisor Lithke, Arxur Dominion 6th Sector Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
Hailey Whitmer returned not long after I called her back to the ship. The Venlil captain, wanting nothing to do with me, asked for her instead. I didn't want anything to do with the weak prey creature either, so it works out for both of us. As she spoke in the back communicator to the Venlil task group sent here, I began a conversation of my own.
I intended to talk with the UECNS Nemesis again. I know she hadn't seen the wisdom of the Prophet's Word, but I had confidence that, if I couldn't convince it of the merits, then I could at least direct them to Chief Hunter Isif.
When I had initially brought up my conversations with Red One to the Chief Hunter, he was somewhat bewildered, but also interested in her philosophy. I see he also realized the hidden potential behind such a vessel realizing the Great Prophet's Word, and told me to talk to the AI again, to have the ship sent his way when it was convenient to speak with them. Imagine if the AI shared it's knowledge forged from a thousand years of war, so much death and strife caused by its claws. It would know revolutionary methods of breaking and cowing inferior prey before us.
I believed in his ability to better describe the necessities of inflicted cruelty and deprivation to better temper the self more than I. After all, he was an honored Chief Hunter, ruler of the 6th Sector Fleet, and I a mere Advisor, Submissive no less!...
But it did not mean I wouldn't try to sink my teeth a second time.
So, I found myself in the command chair of the small craft that was the Snow Hidden, pinging to the UECNS Nemesis in hopes she would feel fit to converse once again. I wished to speak with her again. To convince her.
My hails were finally answered, and on a secure call, her avatar appeared on screen. Unlike last time, she made no attempt to hide her nature, her form shimmering monotone red in the facsimile of a captain long dead spoke in a voice just as monotone. "Lithke. To what do I owe the pleasure...?"
My tongue circled in my mouth, as I anticipated the conversation ahead. "Ah, Red One, so good to see you once again. I wanted to talk with you." My tail lashed. "I have not been allowed on the ship in the fear of terrorizing the prey. It's a shame I cannot scare them in person, but it seems I already am at a distance."
She looked nonplussed by my comment. "Uh huh. Came just to check in, or...?"
"I was getting to that, Red One. No, I wished to return back to our conversation we had a while back. The one concerning the Great Prophet's Word, and how you thought its philosophy twisted into a method of control."
She remained silent, so I continued. "I had a talk with Chief Hunter Isif in response to your conjectures. He figured that the way to dissuade you of them was to talk about the structure of Arxur society, such that you can see there isn't room for exploitation of such nature." While her outward expression didn't noticeably change, it was as if her eyes gleamed so subtly at the prompt.
"Alright, I'll bite. Tell me more of your...society, Lithke."
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Lithke began with a discussion about the nature of how the distinctions of power were divided in The Arxur Dominion. How the power was hereditary top-down rule from a Prophet-Descendent, and how Betterment acted within it.
At first mention, I had assumed his talk of nobility made some odd reflection of the Principality's Synods and Houses, akin to the old British Empire, but I was thoroughly dissuaded by the immensely authoritarian lean of the government policies. This was no "fast and loose" respect of local cultures like the Principality played with, but a systemic and brutal attempt to squash anything that went against their Faith in the Great Prophet, and Betterment's total party domination. No, this was more akin to a successful Nazi Germany or Khmer Rogue, with a horrific religious lean.
Even The Compact's methods didn't seem so comically evil in comparison. The Arxur relished a system of cruelty and religious fervor to propagate it at this rate.
But it was just my luck that I dealt with a Compact of Species-lite, and a state of ruthless starving zealot autocrats. Why did I even hope for better allies to humanity? And this Chief Hunter Isif wanted me to know of such a government? Was he a blind fool for thinking this would somehow convince me to-
-Wait a minute...
I thought for a moment, before proceeding to ask Lithke a question that was bugging me. "Lithke? The upper nobility of The Dominion. What are their lives like?"
"What do you mean? Do you mean their routine and responsibilities? Because I am unsure in my lower place."
"No, their life, as in, how they live. Do they live lives of subjective hedonism, enjoying the fruits of your labor?"
Lithke looked horrified at that. "No! Of course not! To laze about, in a life free of struggle would make them fat and weak. They would disappoint the Great Prophet's vision. No, they too seek perfect form as we do, in a life defined by hunger and strife to better the body and soul."
A much worse idea was starting to come to mind, one utterly dystopic in form.
The Compact was full of semi-religious ideation. The Triarchs were seen as far wiser than any other race, capable of seeing deep past the bias and flaws of client races, and deriving meaning and wisdom even in the most complicated situations. But they were merely a figurehead image imposed over a species, one that The Compact put their unshakable faith in. Mere flesh and blood like the others, they were not infallible, even as carefully cultivated their image was. I could attest to that.
But if the Dominion idealized the Great Prophet figure, was it a class regulator ceiling like the dreamed dystopias of George Orwell, or Aaimiya Hadi? The Great Prophet was an ideal, not an accountable person, that knew all there was to know about perfection. He held the reigns, he kept the vision, but he was not physical in the way a ruler was, free from the consequences. If the Great Prophet was their Big Brother figure, keeping a close watch on all within society, even those at the very top...
It was possible the Arxur all suffered a vicious and cruel life. Even the Prophet-Descendants were not free of such ideological tyranny.
It came to a point in my circuits. The Arxur fleet that helped Earth would not just do it out of the kindness of their hearts. Kindness was antithetical in their society, a societal disruption likely stomped out wherever it kicked up. That they would even help humanity more spoke of pragmatic reasons, they would get something out of it. But what could humanity give them, that the Dominion couldn't already achieve on their own...unless...?
Unless the point wasn't what The Dominion could get, but rather what it couldn't give them: an escape.
What if the fleet that came here wasn't entirely representing The Dominion ideals by those that controlled it. What if this...Chief Hunter Isif was the stomped-upon societal disruption?
He wouldn't be able to say it out loud, in fear his government's loyal agents would report his dissent back. He wanted me to know, so he could talk to me...and he was merely using Lithke as a deniable probe of my ideology, looking for a like-minded individual.
I could be wrong, it could just be conjectures, knowing how inane this universe was at first glance. But just in case, I decided to play ball.
"Lithke...you've been quite enlightening so far.. However, I am soon to launch the plan to get me back to Earth, according to all the chatter I'm hearing elsewhere, and will have to bring this conversation to a stop." Lithke looked dejected at that, his urge to continue wholesale telling me of the Dominion clearly disrupted by such a statement. "But... I would like to speak to your Chief Hunter Isif when I eventually make it back to Earth. Could you set that up for me?"
Lithke's eyes widened. Perhaps he thought something was getting through. I wouldn't dissuade his little fantasy for now. It could perhaps be torn apart later, but I would rather get to the bottom of this potential lead on The Dominion's actions in Sol.
"I will do so, Red One. Lithke out."
And just like that, the feed cut. That game could perhaps be continued later, but now, I turned my attention to what should come next. Ignition.
I will be home soon, humanity. I can only hope Hailey's trust was not misplaced.
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