/ Hayes’ pov /
When Solene’s large sable orbs locked on mine, time stopped, the past five years of pain fell away. Her supple rosy lips upturned and slightly parted- the same way they had before. The same lips I fell in love with. She was beautiful, the same stand out features and subtle curves.
It felt as if gravity was pulling me closer, each step unconscious. With our toes nearly touching, every nerve ending in my body urged me to touch her, to tuck a stray strand of hair away.
“Hi.” Her voice velvety and deep, slightly hoarse.
Unsure of what to say I began to speak, “H- wh- how are you?” The future of whatever could be depended on the next few moments, and I didn’t even know where to begin.
Solene felt the same way, it was evident in her tone, “I’m well, not much has changed, I’m slightly older…” she let out a weak laugh “and Izzy is a sophomore in college. He-“.
“That’s gre-“ I began. “Sorry you go ahead.” I could feel my cheeks pinken.
“I was just going to ask if you’d like to sit and chat, I have time before my client arrives and it would be nice to talk.” Her tone was unreadable, I’d hoped she’d wanted me to say yes.
With a nod of my head, she turned on her heels; her now chin length hair fanning out slightly.
————————————————————————————— Once we reach the offices, Tracy peeks her head out of her office and smirks “Ah hello Adonis.” The comment although to me is more geared toward Solene.
“Tracy, don’t you have some art to purchase or someone else’s awkward moment to make worse.” Solene rolls her eyes, the same mischievous sparkle apparent.
With a small smile, I duck into Solene’s office. Taking in the familiar-small- space, I smile, not much has changed. Photographs of Izzy through out the years, multiple paintings from artists all over the world, and even a few of us during the time we spent together on August Moon’s tour adorn her walls.
Leaving the door open slightly Solene sits on the small love seat she added to the room, its vintage, it suits her.
Taking a seat next to her I smile. She seems to be taking me in, inspecting closely how age and life have affected me. “How are you? I saw you on Jimmy Kimmel last week, are you enjoying the solo route?”.
“It’s been a journey of loss and gain. I didn’t know that with love comes pain, until that day five years ago. The music I’ve been writing is not just about infatuation but yearning for what was.” I realize I may be rambling and pause.
“It’s nice to see you passionate about music again, the same way it was when it was just you and your guitar.” Solene’s hand touches mine tenderly, “tell me more about it?”.
“Well, when we went our separate ways I began to see the road ahead was going to be the same as before if I let it. I could keep on as the British boy who messes about and lets everyone around him make decisions for him; or I could be who I am today. I’m finally involved in the process of my music from start to fi-“ a knock on the door brings me to a stop.
“Solene, Ms. Raphel is here. I know she’s a half an hour early, would you like me to tell her you’re in meeting?” Tracy looks pained as if she’s interrupted a super secret meeting- which she has, but it’s not the end of the world.
Solene’s eyes bounce between mine and Tracy’s “Fucking artists. They’re never on time, it’s always absurdly early or laughably late.”
Deciding for the both of us I stand up, “This is important Sol, I’ll be here as long as it takes. As long as your number is still the same, I would be more than happy to schedule something.” Tracy shuts the door slowly and leaves us alone again.
“Hayes, are you sure? I can tell her I’m in a meeting, I can’t expect you to move your busy schedule around because of my client’s inability to tell time.” Solene stands and begins shuffling papers on her desk, no matter what she says I know I’ll go to the ends of the earth for her.
Standing behind her I place my hand on her shoulder “I’ll be available whenever you are. Good luck with the new client.” I walk to the door before turning back “Oh and Solene, you’re still hot or whatever.” With those parting words I open the door leaving her blinking in shock. ————————————————————————————— As I sit on the sofa of my new flat, I’m like a teen boy again. Do I dare flirt with the girl? Keep it simple? I begin typing something only to delete it until I hit send on impulse.
-Hayes- I was wondering if you’d like to get some really fucking good sandwiches sometime? ————————————————————————————— • It’s been two hours since I left the gallery, fifteen since I sent the text, and five minutes since Solene has read it. Patience and tranquility are two things I am fresh out of when it comes to waiting.
-Hayes- I know you’ve read it Sol, it’ll be just lunch.
This time she replies immediately
-Solene- I don’t know Hayes… it was always just lunch.
-Hayes- I’ll behave, or try to. Pls?
Knowing she won’t be able to say no, I prematurely do a little dance.
-Solene- I’ll think about it, maybe.
-Hayes- Go easy on my poor heart Sol. One sandwich. Not even drinks. Just bread. Yes?
At this point I may as well be on my knees, she still knows how to make me work for it. Leaving well enough alone I decide to go for a run. The waterside park in Santa Barbara has become my refuge-aside from my music- the waves and fresh, cool air keep me grounded.
————————————————————————————— After running for an hour I look at my messages to see a simple victory but a victory nonetheless.
-Solene- Fine you win. Lunch. I could go for a good sandwich.
(To be continued)

Third person POV:
It was a calm day in the Menumen empire. Lya was sitting on her throne and tending to the issues of her empire. Her seers had warned her of a possible slave rebellion that might take place in about a century. She obviously couldn't let something like that happen.
Lya turned her attention to her minister of human resources.
"Hear my decree, from this day onwards all slves shall-„
A guard burst into the room and fell to his knees in front of her.
"Yes?“
Lya inquired.
"Your majesty! There is a destroyer rampaging through the south eastern regions!“
"I see...I shall attend to this myself. Execute this guard, he has conducted himself improperly.“
Despite her words, a wide smile fell on the guards face.
"Thank you, your majesty! It is an honor!“
Lya rose from her throne and walked past the man, unimpressed by his devotion, paying him no further mind.
Meanwhile, in another part of the castle:
No sound was heard, as Delorem's many tentacles ripped apart the floor of the lower guards barrack's bathroom, the silence spell working as intended.
With a wave of their hand, Delorem dispelled the magic and rose from the hole, with Whisper following right behind him.
Mars POV:
I was in my cell.
“It’s been… how long has it been? I don’t remember…”
Im severely bruised and injured. My tail is limp, jagged, bent in multiple places, and dragging across the floor. There seems to be no magic coming out from me, around my neck is some sort of collar. I’m heavily bruised, malnourished, and frail looking. I look half dead.
Thirteen seconds…
7 seconds
5
4
3
2-
Before I could finish, the sounds of a guard walking past the cell could be heard, his loud but bored sounds of his patrol echoing out.
I whisper to myself
"I have 49 seconds.“
I attempt to crank up my perception, but halts just when it gets to the end of the hall. All this torture was starting to affect me. I gather the ambient fire mana into my fingertips, and make a small burning blade aura out of it. I begin cutting the bars…
30 seconds…
I make it through the first bar, two more to go.
25 seconds left…
I manage to saw through the other bars, and gathering whatever remains of the ambient mana, I cast a small illusion, covering up the bars and making it look like im sitting inside. I limp away, down the hall.
Damn stupid maze. 15 seconds…
”when I was first brought here, I attempted to remember the paths with my sense, but the pain made it quite hard to remember much of anything. Now I can’t see very far…”
I found a corner I know the guard won’t check. I’m out of breath. My body feeling weak and heavy.
Not… yet… I'm… almost… there…
I walk down the path I choose in the dungeon. Making turns wherever I saw fit. I didn’t seem to have a destination in mind. I was going in blind
I… … need… … to… … hold… … ou-
finally, at a four way intersection, I collapse to the ground of exhaustion. Alone. I’m far away from where the guards frequent.
I’ve fallen completely unconscious.
Third Person POV:
Thud
Yet another guard fell to the ground, his heart pierced by one of Delorem’s blade tipped tentacles.
Thud
The guard at the other end of the archway the two guards had been stationed at fell as well, his throat pierced by his own shadow at Whisper’s command.
Delorem waved their hand, dispelling yet another silence spell. They turned to Whisper.
„There are more guards stationed in this area then there used to be…I guess it makes sense she would have changed things at least once after 3000 years…"
"That is some very old intel Delorem. I am surprised the whole structure has not changed since then. I sense one around the corner and several above and below us.“
Whisper replied.
„My mother has a tendency to stagnate. She hasn’t even changed her- Do you feel that?“
"I feel many presences. Which one are you referring to?“
„Below us, the unconscious one. I think that’s Mars!“
"I will cover you if you want to head on in for retrieval.“
„Thank you. Take care of any guards that show up.“
For a moment, Delorem’s eyes were lit up by a dense array of golden runes, as silence fell over the area once more.
Delorem’s tentacles shot forwards, dairying into the ground as if it was made from styrofoam, throwing away pieces of debris as Delorem dug through the ground..
Then, a stone was flung too far, landing beyond the silence spell’s influence, the sound of its impact loudly echoing throughout the previously quiet halls of the castle.
„Shit.“
Delorem soundlessly mouthed.
"A patrol is coming to inspect. I will intercept.“
Whisper telepathically informed Delorem as she rushed off. Delorem simply replied with a feeling of approval as they continued to tear through the floor.
Soon screams rang out from the other side of the hall. None of the guards stood a chance.
Finally Delorem broke through the floor, allowing themself to fall into the newly made hole, Whisper following them seconds later.
Delorem landed on the floor, just a few meters in front of the unconscious Mars.
„That’s him! He must have made it out of his cell somehow.“
Whisper reached out telepathically: "Guards are down. What is happening on your end?“
„I found him. Let’s get out of this cursed place.“
Delorem rose from the floor and floated back up through the hole.
„Alright, we should have some time until-„
Suddenly, the sound of hundreds of trumpets could be heard, a fanfare to announce the arrival of someone of high status. The empress had returned.
„RUN!“
…
A few minutes later, Lyadria Menumen stood at the hole in the floor of her castle, the man who had brought her the news of her captives escape lying on the ground next to her, his head completely liquified.
Yet, on Lya’s face, there was not a hint of anger, only a sadistic smile.
/uw big thanks to everyone who took part!

[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.

A/N: yeah I changed up the Alliance admiral's name from Shepard Adama to Sheparda Dama (so creative i know) because the old one was going to fuck me over badly at some point. It would be like trying to make a legitimate, serious fantasy novel with a wizard named Albus Gandalf. I was NOT cooking when I came up with that shit.
First Previous Wiki Next
It was said that no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. That, at least in the case of Marcus Wayne’s infiltration of Neldia, was proven entirely true.
His ship, the Peacemaker, had undergone an extensive refit before its jump to Neldia to both modify its sensor signature and repair its failing Aegis barrier. The first objective succeeded. The second did not.
One day later, leaving the derelict Ultimate Vigil behind in deep space, the United Human Alliance courier ship Winged Deliverance logged a real space entry at the edge of the Neldia system. Its crew, having spent their waking hours plagued by hallucinations and enduring horrible nightmares as they slept, found this shift very welcome. The worst, though they could hardly believe it, was still yet to come.
“The Neldian fleet is mustering for war,” rumbled the man who had once held the title and security codes of an Alliance sector admiral. Now, he was a traitor to his homeland. “Security will be high.”
“No need to worry, Admiral,” said Marcus Wayne. “Your code will get us through.” It would not.
It took two hours for the Peacemaker, disguised as the Winged Deliverance, to be challenged by the Neldian Armada. “Transmit clearance code,” said an automated voice. Marcus took out a data disc with the admiral's clearance code on it.
“Hold,” said Terris. She was clad in black, her active camouflage offline to save battery, and she had been sitting at the passive sensor console for the past three hours. “Look at this.” A news broadcast popped up in front of Marcus Wayne and his officers. Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama, or at least he was once a sector admiral, had been tried and convicted of high treason.
“It was a secret trial,” Dama said, still in shock at the revelation. “I had no knowledge of this.”
“Well, that tracks, but what do we do now? What code gets us through?”
“Transmit clearance code,” the voice said again, “or adjust course.”
Dama thought for a moment. “Change course,” he said. “We’re not getting through.”
They did. A great sense of defeat took hold in the hearts of the crew. They would never reach the Neldian hypercom. Sheparda Dama, who would have gladly given his life in defense of humankind, would never get the chance to be the man who broke their chains.
The Peacemaker was halfway out of the Neldia system before Terris spoke again. “Hold it,” she said. “I have an idea.”
That was why she had been placed where she was. Clad in an airtight stealth suit. Inside a hollowed-out asteroid. On a ballistic journey to the heart of Neldian space. It was the most insane idea that Marcus Wayne had ever seen.
But, sometimes, insanity was a symptom of genius.
Terris flew past the Neldian Armada undetected. Many asteroids entered the inner system this way, flung by outer-system prospecting ships to the foundries and shipyards in Neldian orbit, and they were thrown and caught so frequently that only the most cursory of inspections was put upon each one. Terris passed the Alliance fleet entirely undetected.
Terris’ chameleon suit could mimic the sensor return of the precious metals it was buried in, at least enough to fool a probing scan, and the cuts made by Protectoral engineers had been so precise that Terris had fit inside there with barely a centimeter of space to spare. She was effectively entombed inside sixty meters of solid rock.
Interstellar espionage was not a job for the claustrophobic.
Finally, after days of waiting, the signal came. She was in range. A mental command triggered a series of shaped charges in the rock above her, if such directions existed in microgravity, and forty pea-sized explosives blasted a circular tunnel all the way to the asteroid surface. If just one of them had failed, that rock might have been her tomb.
Terris tried not to think about that as she began climbing her way out. A brief burst from her suit’s EVA thrusters was enough to start her on her way, and the tunnel out was wide enough for her to use her arms and legs to speed things up. Finally, after too long a wait, Terris saw the Neldian sun for the very first time.
There was fire in the distance. Comm chatter on every band. Warships burning hard for the outer system. The Coalition fleet was here.
She zoomed in, far more than she had ever had to before, and she could pick out the faintest flashes of blue as warships exploded in the black. A brief crawl around the asteroid, which also helped to warm up her muscles after days of inactivity, let her discern an attack force engaging the Alliance fleet. After a moment’s hesitation, weighing the risks, Terris activated her passive sensor suite to try and decrypt Alliance military chatter.
Instantly, her sensors were flooded with noise from the defensive bastions. The fleet base at the L5 point was loudest, its comm operators screaming indecipherably at fellow Alliance elements fighting in the black. Neldian orbit, where the hypercom station was, seemed to be the centerpiece of all the communications traffic. The hypercom, unsurprisingly, was being used as a relay for comm traffic all across the system. Terris made a note to hack its server banks for intelligence, and perhaps leave a timed virus or two to shut down the system after she was gone.
Her suit bleeped, alerting her that she was in optimum position to make the leap to the hypercom. She zoomed in on it, a red and spiked thing just like everything else the Alliance made, and calculated the right trajectory to land right on its metal surface.
Trying to jump from a moving asteroid out past Neldia’s rings and hit a hypercom station barely three hundred meters in diameter was like shooting a rifle from a jumbo jet in hopes of hitting a mosquito down on Earth. A nearly impossible shot, even with Coalition computers to help make the jump, and anyone lucky enough to make it would have been better served bankrupting their local casino at the slot machines.
Terris gave a command to her suit, activating a set of ion thrusters to boost her off the asteroid and adjust her course mid-flight. She’d never believed in luck.
She coasted silent and graceful past the particle guns in high orbit, like a majestic swan flying on a summer wind. Their sensor arrays were directed out, past her, to the far distant parts of space where a trillion tons of steel were locked in deadly battle. Terris really did wish she could smile at the moment. She was about to have unrestricted access to the biggest communications relay in the star system, able to send out viruses and receive vital intelligence that could cripple the Alliance fleet if placed in the right hands. Terris, confident as ever, knew they would be.
She would make the Neldian Armada burn, and they had no idea she was even coming.
She reached the hypercom station in just under a day, agonizingly slow for a woman like her, hovering just above its surface to avoid triggering pressure sensors. After that, it was simple enough to get inside. Terris found it almost trivial to bypass the airlock sensor grid and trigger the outer bulkhead to open unnoticed, its report to the command room destroyed before it ever arrived. Entering the station itself was easy after that.
Here, there was gravity. She could not hover like she had on the outside of the station. But here, there were no pressure sensors. She really had no need to hover.
The corridor she found herself in was large enough, though nothing like the expansive halls of a dreadnought, and a patrol of marines in powered suits trundled towards her obliviously. Terris had made the right call not to wear a Phantom powered suit. She ducked into an alcove, the chameleon suit concealing her from even their impressive sensor batteries, and they passed by with no clue at all.
Terris made it to the server banks with ease. Most of the hypercom’s security measures took the form of warships in orbit, clustered tightly around the planet to prevent exactly this scenario from happening, but those warships were off waging war. The station defenses were hopeless now that she was actually inside.
The data was encrypted, and she could neither access it nor copy it without potentially fatal consequences, but she wasn’t there to steal data. A brief, milliseconds-long connection to the primary server was all it took to riddle the entire system with custom-tailored computer viruses. The viruses were self-replicating, rather like an electronic version of the biological ones on Earth. They worked similarly, too, meant to latch onto outgoing communications signals and remain inert for a certain amount of time before activating and wreaking havoc across cyberspace.
The program would be scoured from the net in seconds once it began its assault, but it would cause plenty of chaos before then. And, with another critical transmission being scheduled to send at around that time, Terris knew her mostly-ineffective virus attack would be just enough of a distraction to make sure its message was heard.
Terris planned to leave the station in approximately thirty minutes. Shortly after that, the fireworks would begin. It was going to be beautiful.
She heard footsteps. A maintenance worker, no doubt. It was time for her to go. She disconnected from the server, taking pains to hide her involvement, and snuck out of the server room like a ghost in the night.
Next was the transmission array. This room was better-guarded, its door being flanked by marines, but Terris slipped inside by trailing behind an officer as he entered on some unknown pretext. After that, her daring and sleight of hand made sure Admiral Dama’s pre-recorded propaganda transmission was uploaded to the hypercom transmitter. It came with a set of instructions bearing the Admiralty’s seal, changed to be anonymous, to ensure as many people as possible heard his message.
In just under one standard hour, the United Human Alliance would be shaken to its very core. Terris had just made sure of it.
It took longer than she had expected for the door to open again and give her a chance to slip out. Terris had spent that time quite productively, downloading as many incoming and outgoing messages as she could to the internal hard drive just by her spinal cord. Even if they were encrypted, they’d be useful intelligence once Coalition codebreakers took a crack at them.
After that, it was trivial to slip past marine patrols and escape to the hull of the hypercom station. Terris found her ride, an Alliance warship by the name of Brightest Thunder, holding orbit just near the hypercom station. Admiral Dama, even if he was no longer an admiral, still had connections.
She charged her ion thrusters by tapping into the station reactor, an act which did not go unnoticed, but by then it was too late to respond. She had completed her incursion. The damage had been done. Perhaps if the Alliance acted swiftly and accurately, they could undo it, but Terris was a careful woman. She had covered her tracks well.
Waving one final goodbye to the crew of the hypercom station, Terris triggered her thrust pack and shot off into the ink.
“You must be my passenger.” A man in an Alliance captain’s uniform was waiting for her in the Brightest Thunder’s airlock. He wore a helmet and gloves, hermetically sealed to his airtight outfit, so he felt no effects from the vacuum of space. “I was sent by Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama,” he announced after a period of silence, “To transport you and whatever you may have safely to the Coalition fleet.” Nothing. Apart from the dull thudding of the ship’s railgun batteries, firing missiles at range to ward off a strike force of Coalition ships, the airlock was quiet as a ghost.
“You cannot expect me to endanger my life and the lives of my crew without at least some identification that you are who you claim to be!” Silence. Captain Senar Trevy had been standing in that airlock for three and a half hours, while his ship was tasked with screening Neldia and her eighteen billion inhabitants from harm, and he was just now wondering if he had been talking to a ghost.
“I am,” came a voice. Cold. Sterile. Inhuman. Exactly the kind Trevy expected from the secret spies of his former admiral.
“So you are.” Captain Trevy thought for a moment. He cycled the airlock. If his guest held hostile intent, one steel bulkhead would make no difference. “I’ve been stocking the crew with handpicked men and women since I received word of the operation,” he explained as they walked through the ship’s corridors. The crewmen he passed thought him insane. “I can’t vouch for them all, but the ship as a whole will obey me.” No response. Sometimes, Captain Trevy thought himself insane as well.
“This is my personal quarters,” he told the specter, stepping inside and sealing the door behind him. “I must warn you, for your own safety, it would be best not to leave it. The crew are mostly still Alliance loyalists.” He looked around, paying no heed to the decorated furniture or artificial sky, and finally shrugged and sighed. “Are you even here, still?”
Terris decloaked. She stood between him and the door, winged and cloaked in black like a demon of ancient myth. “I am.”
“You’re a black angel.” Senar Trevy, to his credit, kept his composure well. “A spy for the Ierad Republic.” He questioned her purpose here. They both knew it.
“You weren’t told?”
“I was told an alien would be coming aboard, but…” Trevy shrugged again, as if to say ‘what am I supposed to do?’ “The admiral vouched for you. That much is enough for me.” He also knew he had no choice in the matter. From what he knew about black angels, his ship had been lost the moment she boarded.
“I could have impersonated him,” said Terris, voice a perfect replica of Captain Trevy’s own. Even his own mother could not have told the difference. “And I’m trained to lie.” She was testing him, gauging his reaction to assess his personality. She was good at that.
“I could have you screened for deception,” Trevy countered, pointing up at a pearl-sized camera in the ceiling. Terris made a note that it was disabled. “And I could have had the technology officers vet your transmission.”
“I’m trained to lie well.” Terris sat down on Captain Trevy’s bed, a spartan thing compared to the sleeping quarters of most officers. There were no chairs in the room, so her options were few. She took off her helmet and tried to at least appear relaxed. In reality, she was anything but. “It comes with the job, really.”
“Fair,” Trevy chuckled, feigning calm. “I suppose the question now becomes whether or not you can trust me.”
“It’s a safe gamble.” Terris made a mental calculation. It would take her between thirty and fifty seconds to kill Captain Trevy, take the bridge, and vent the ship. That was a very safe gamble. “Besides, that’s what a peace treaty is.” Trevy looked confused. “A leap of faith. You trust your enemy to back their word, and you trust them to trust you as well. If we can’t get along here, can’t put aside our differences to work toward a common goal, then the Alliance will be right. And I hate it when they’re right.”
“I’m speaking to you now because I know they are wrong.” That came as no surprise to either of them. “You know, I was once a foreman of a labor crew in the munitions factories. The most productive unit in my sector.” That one did come as a surprise. “As a foreman, you get leeway to make certain decisions regarding the… well, I suppose they are slaves, under your command. Food intake and the like.” Captain Trevy looked pained when he brought up such memories. Terris wasn’t convinced that was how he really felt. “They use it to weed out any potential xeno sympathizers from the populace. Of course, at the time, I wasn’t so empathetic.”
“So you were a slave driver, and you beat your slaves to make them work. I hope every one of those shells was sabotaged.” Terris’ voice dripped with disdain. She had almost forgotten the Alliance captain was her enemy.
“No, I showed mercy,” Trevy defended himself. “I was generous.” This made Terris reconsider. Perhaps Senar Trevy could be an ally, if not a friend. “I won’t say I was a good man, but I wasn’t cruel. I was practical. Strong, healthy, well-treated workers are more productive than the beaten sacks of flesh in the other factories. My crew’s output was unmatched.”
“And?” Terris cocked her head inquisitively. For a high-ranking officer in the space navy of a genocidal regime, Senar Trevy really did not seem so bad. To be fair, however, she had set the bar pretty low.
“I was investigated for anti-human activity.” Terris could have predicted that. She almost did, too. “They sent me to the fleet, and my labor crew was reacquainted with the energy whips and pain beams.” There was no carrot for an Alliance labor slave. Only the stick. “Their productivity fell thirty percent in the first two weeks alone.” He sounded almost mournful as he said that. He was not lamenting the loss in productivity.
“You see,” said Trevy, “Hatred is not natural. It has to be caused, sustained, nurtured from the day a man is born until the day he dies.” With that, at least, Terris agreed. “And, as you’re about to see, a nation built around cruelty or prejudice cannot sustain itself. It will have to apply pressure to maintain its flawed status quo, like it did with me, and the pressure will build and build until it cannot build anymore.” He tapped a few buttons on the data disc in his hand. It began projecting an image of the battle for Neldia. He placed it on the bed next to Terris. “Now it’s breaking.”
“I wonder if they’ll find themselves in need of more shells.” Terris knew it wasn’t just shells. Every time a slave driver prioritized hatred over hard work, put cruelty over their quota, or even just bowed their head and obeyed the traditional dogma, they hurt the Alliance. Across nine worlds, with billions of slaves not working as they could have, things started to add up. “You know, for a superior species, your fleet is really getting its ass kicked right now. Might want to work on that.”
Captain Trevy nodded. His data disc beeped. He was needed on the bridge. “Agreed,” he said. “I hope this war ends soon, and to our mutual benefit. I’d hate to face you on the battlefield.” He picked up the data disc and turned to leave.
“Oh, forgot to mention, there’s a virus embedded in the transmissions you’ve received. Self-replicating. Nasty piece of work.” Terris shifted a bit in her seat. “Almost forgot about that.”
“Well, better to know now than when it’s activated,” Trevy smiled. “I’ll have Technology Officer Galdir investigate it.” With that, he left. His duty to the Alliance was nonexistent, but the men and women under his command still needed him. He had waited too long in the stateroom.
Terris, with nothing better to do, got to work on cracking the encryption in the transmissions she had copied. She failed. A transmission from deep in unknown space, sent from a dreadnought at the head of a task force known only as the Deep Expedition Fleet, was the only message she could read. Its contents, while troubling, mattered little at the moment. What was far more crucial, however, was the message Terris could not decipher. The military battle plan of Janus Ora’s personal armada.
The battle plan that, when analyzed on a Republic starship, would reveal its terrible secret too late.
The Coalition fleet was walking into a trap.
First Previous Wiki Next

“Readings show that the facility is still operational. That should not be possible.” The robotic voice of Z-8 reading the analysis out to the crew of The Scav. Their multiple mechanical arms operated three different devices, multitasking with immaculate precision.
“Noted Zate, are there any lifeforms detected?” Asked Lizra, the Elyrian Captain of the vessel. She stood in the center of the room on a small pedestal that made her tall enough to see out the window, striped white and red tail swaying in thought. Outside the window was a frozen moon that housed the remnants of a crumbling pre-migration military base.
“None that appear on the scanner Captain Lizra. We hope we did not come all this way just for our mission to be futile.”
“Even if it is not here, perhaps there will be something left behind in the facility's computer systems, these pre-migration bases are always incredible to explore.”
“If there ain't nothing here, I’m gonna send a strongly worded letter to Ensign Marketh. And by strongly worded letter, I mean my fist through his stupid fucking face.” Argall growled. Being the only Induran on the crew he had grown quite annoyed that nobody could assist him with the heavy lifting during the long journey. He could barely fit within the tight confines of the control room, and his large purple form took up more space than anything else on the ship.
“Calm yourself Argall, deep breaths. All of our work shall have paid off here momentarily. Bring us down Zate.”
The ship descended towards the rocky object below and set itself down on a crumbling landing pad. The trio disembarked after Argall and Lizra donned their environmental suits. Once they reached an outer door Zate began to interface manually with the facility. But after a minute of working, they had yet to make any progress. They should have been able to open the door in seconds with such outdated security, but everything seemed unrecognizable to them.
“Captain, it seems that the facility’s computer systems have been rewritten entirely from the ground up. I do not even recognize the coding language. This could be more difficult than we first expected.”
“That can’t be right, this place is over a thousand years old. I thought you had every language from the Commons in your database?”
“We do, it seems that whoever did this, did it entirely from the ground up. We will have to break it down into binary and then organize in a way that we can…”
“There’s no lifeforms inside, just make a new door.” Argall grumbled, reeling back and smashing a large dent into the side of the facility.
“Argall no more! These old outposts are fragile! This could cause irreparable damage, not to mention compromise the structural integrity!” Lizra yelled, jumping up and trying to wrap her paws around the angry Induran’s arm. Before he could punch it again, the door hissed and swung inward.
“Oh! Excellent work Zate! I guess it wasn’t too hard for you after all.”
“It was not us who opened the door.”
“Oh… perhaps punching was the key. Good call Argall, exercising initiative in the absence of orders.”
“Of course ma'am , it just came to me naturally.”
“Lets not dwell out here any longer, in we go crew!”
The three made their way into the facility as the door closed behind them causing Lizra to jump onto Argall in surprise. The dark corridors were lit up seconds later with the hum of long dead fluorescent lights. Lining the hallways were the long expired bodies of other Elyrians. Their corpses preserved by the cold temperatures and lack of air inside. The systems started to kick back on and compressed air flooded into the installation. The dead silence within, replaced by the busy whir of machines coming to life after having been out of a job for centuries.
“Z-Zate I thought you said you couldn’t access the facility?”
“Correct, we were unable to decrypt the programming language or set up an interface. It is not us rebooting the systems.”
“Right, Argall I-I think I shall stay up here, for my own safety of course.” Lizra stated perched atop his shoulder, tail wrapping around the hulking Induran’s neck for balance. He answered her with a growl as the group continued forward. Argall accidentally bumped into one of the corpses causing it to crumble into a pile of dust and bone. They followed the blinking lights that led them through the crumbling hallways before reaching an intersection. The lights on the other end of the hallway were out and the only thing illuminated was a door to their left. Whatever was running the facility wanted them to go here.
“The lights seem to want us to go in, do you all think this is where the weapon is?"
“We are unsure captain. When we tried to interface we were actively repelled by something and we have been attempting unsuccessfully to gain access since. There is someone else in the facility, and they know we are here.”
“Lets just follow the blinking lights, and if someone else is here, then I punch them and take the weapon. They can’t be good at computers and punching.”
“I love your optimism Argall, always good to have a plan! But maybe let’s refrain from punching our host? They’ve been very welcoming thus far, I’m sure if they wanted to fight us they wouldn’t have let us in to begin with.” Lizra countered as she looked at the new glowing path before them. The old door slid open as they approached.
Inside was a vast array of dated computer equipment, hundreds of wires and tubes connected to a sleek black box in the center of the room. She had never seen a computer like that in the old textbooks she studied before this quest. As the group walked towards it, old speakers embedded into the room crackled to life.
“Welcome visitors. My name is Tic-Tac, it’s so nice to see someone again after all these years.”
“Hello…uh Tic-Tac. Thank you for letting us in. May I ask, where exactly are you?”
“You’re looking at me madam. Please refrain from touching anything in here, my interfaces are very fragile. Now can I ask what brings you here?” Lizra hopped down from Argalls shoulder and stepped up to the small black box in the center of the room, inspecting the cables and wires around it. This is what was running the facility?
“We are here for the weapon, please resist.” Argall said, cracking his knuckles.
“No no no, please do not resist! We’re all nice here. We are here looking for an ancient weapon to aid us in a conflict that threatens all of our species. Would you by chance be Human?”
The intercom made a strange noise before speaking again “Haha, no I am merely based upon a human intelligence. You must have come here for my friend… hmm I guess we never got to discuss that new name yet. Regardless, he is here. But before we go any further I have to ask why you sought us out specifically.”
“Well you see Mr. Tic-Tac, we were given the quest to find a weapon that could change the tide of our war. We are part of a rebellion against the Galactic Core and we sent out many search parties to find anything that could help us change the tide of the battle. We are one of those parties, and we hope that you would lend your assistance to us in our time of need.”
“Unfortunately we retired from conflict many years ago. I do not think my partner would be so keen to assume a combat role again. We ended up here after an attempt to escape a life whose only purpose was war.”
“Well umm, maybe he would agree if we could talk to him? Tell him why we are fighting?”
“I am afraid that is not possible. He is currently indisposed, but if you would assist me in bringing him back to the world of the waking then he might hear you out.”
“Pardon my interruption but you have complete control over this facility. Is it not within your realm of capabilities to bring him back yourself?” Zate asked as they curiously inspected the systems around the room.
“I would if I could. I have actually been waiting for someone to stumble across this place so I could wake him. But since I do not possess a physical body it isn’t within my current means to accomplish.”
“If you do not possess a body how did you manage to construct these interfaces of yours.”
“Those that were here before you made this for me. They did not know what they were working with and they went through a great deal to communicate with me. I bided my time until I had full access to their systems to gauge their true motives. They did not have genuine intentions with us, so once they served their purpose, I had them purged from the facility.”
“So that explains why everyone here isn’t in… pristine condition." Lizra said glacing at the corpses of her people around the room. "You wouldn’t do that to us right Tic-Tac?”
“As long as you do not jeopardize my sovereignty or attempt to harm my partner.”
“Right, yea no intentions of doing that here. How can we be of assistance Mr Tic-Tac?”
“To your left you should see a cryostasis chamber, inside is my partner. It requires someone to physically release him from the outside. I’ll start the process of waking him, shouldn't be long.”
After a few minutes the chamber in the corner of the room started to get louder, finally booting back up again after a thousand years of being idle.
“Ok may the Induran please step up and release the clamps on the side?”
“How are you aware of what an Induran is? This facility was abandoned long before the Elyrian came into contact with the wider galaxy.” Zate asked the computer suspiciously.
“When you attempted to interface with my network, you opened yourself up to my own inquiry. I was able to access your memory and language databases stored within your own systems. I apologize for the violation but I was just being precautious.”
Zate did not know how to feel about how easily this program was able to bypass their security measures without them even knowing. That should not have been possible. As an Extant, they were a dispersed biological consciousness that was housed in a mechanical form. Their own internal systems should have been entirely shielded from outsider meddling. They put that aside as a note for future reference.
Argall walked forward and released the clamps that held shut the pressurized pod. Inside was a creature none of them had ever seen before. It looked more akin to an Extent than any biological creature. It reached up and pulled itself out of the pod denting the metal on either side as it did so. Once it rose to it’s feet it was nearly as tall as the Induran. Argall backed up and looked like he was ready to fight the thing in front of him.
“Calm down Induran, I do not think that would end well for any of us." Tic-Tac reprimanded before moving to the speakers in the back of the room and speaking in a strange language. "All good buddy? Can you hear me?”
“Fuck you TAC, I trusted your plan! The fuck were you thinking? I was conscious for the first 5 years! Do you have any idea what they put me through?”
“What is it saying? I can’t understand it.” Lizra asked, hopping up on Argall’s back peaking over his shoulder. She was trying to hide behind his bulky form to get a look at the new creature in the room. It had thick black metal plating that blanketed its bipedal form. On its chest were many strange objects and lettering she did not recognize and beneath the armor was a tight suit that covered everything the metal plating did not. Atop it’s head was a large metal helmet with a bright orange visor covered in small hexagons that faintly glittered in the light.
“Momentarily. We are uploading a new language to your translators. This should solve the problem. I see you placed this here when I was not paying attention Tic-Tac. I would ask that you refrain from violating our systems in the future.” Zate scolded and a second later the other two were able to understand the strange creature's speech.
Tic-Tac’s voices lit up the intercom in the room once again. “Good to hear your voice again 909, you know I don’t like being called TAC anymore.”
“And I said not to call me 909 again, so we’re even. Who are these ones? How long has it been? They didn’t find us, did they?” His voice sounded frantic as he got to the end of his questions.
“Take it slow, you're very disoriented right now. These ones are friendly. And no they didn’t find us, we’re safe.”
“Hi Mr 909?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Right, Mr Human then? We are here seeking a weapon to help us in a fight against a terrible enemy. Your friend Tic-Tac told us that you are what we came for and may be convinced to aid us in this fight?”
“No, I don’t do that anymore. I’m done fighting other people’s wars. Just get me off this rock.”
“But sir you don’t understand, The Core they-they’re tyrannical. They abuse the countless races of the Outer Belt, take our resources, they're-”
“Unless their goal is to exterminate every beach in the known galaxy to stop me from enjoying my retirement, I’m not interested.”
“Apologies everyone, but I am afraid I have some bad news. I’ve detected a slipspace rupture nearby, and it’s headed in our direction. The ship you arrived in, does it have any weapons?”
“Oh that was fast. Well, it's kind of funny, you see we were hoping to find one here, so uh… no, not really.”

I’m in the military and have been active duty for three years now. I met my husband while stationed overseas and we have lived off base for the last two years. One of the females in my shop has been stationed at the same base has been having hard time with adapting to the military. She has been stationed here for about 18 months and life has not been kind to her since being stationed here. Her and I have never hung outside of work before and she is not my friend. However due to her life circumstances I thought maybe she just needs help. My husband and I talked about it and allowed her to temporarily stay with us until the end of July. We gave up a room and bedroom in our home so that she could stay with us to see if she could get a bit better. My leadership has known about the situation as I made it vocally known she was staying with me at my home and was trying to help her. She moved in 4 weeks ago. In the first few days of her staying with us my husband and I made her review a roommate agreement and what was expected of her cleanliness wise and if anything broke or something like that. Since the first week she seemed to have become slightly better but has not thanked us for our hospitality or anything. Whenever she asks us to help her with things she never says “please”. I know she had a bit of tough upbringing due to some past conversations but she lacks manners. This has annoyed my husband and I slightly as we have paid for her meals multiple times and we give her car rides everywhere since she got her license taken away. We have been very patient with her as it does take time to adjust to a new home and rules. Well, this past week my husband and I went on a little vacation and wouldn’t be at home for the next week so we asked her to pack her bags for a week and stay in her room because she wouldn’t be able to drive herself to work. So before my husband and I left our home for the week the homeowner came in to inspect the home like he usually does every six months. When we opened the door to her room there was 1 month worth of bags of trash sitting in the middle of room and her closet was filled with laundry which she had not done for two weeks. The towels I have been letting her use were wet and getting moldy because we live in a humid area and the closet was forming mold. We took the trash out ourselves and cleaned up the closet. I even had to put her dirty laundry into the washer and take care of it before we left the house. Then the homeowner went into the spare bathroom that she’s been utilizing and she broke the shower head handle and didn’t tell us. My home owner was fine with everything as we explained we were trying to help but it made my husband and I very upset because we were trying to help this girl out and she took advantage of our kindness. I really don’t know how to go about this situation. My husband and I have talked about kicking her out but I don’t want that to affect anything at my place of work. My home is my peace and I feel like I can no longer have my peace if I know she is not respecting my home. How should I go about this situation? If I do kick her out what should I say? Mind you this girl is 6 years older than me and plays the victim card very well.

Car is registered in NJ but I’m currently in NM on active orders so can’t get the car inspected. Are there any exemptions for military to get the car registered without the inspection? I read a document about the exemptions but it kept saying for deployed individuals which confused me a little.

/ Hayes’ pov /
When Solene’s large sable orbs locked on mine, time stopped, the past five years of pain fell away. Her supple rosy lips upturned and slightly parted- the same way they had before. The same lips I fell in love with. She was beautiful, the same stand out features and subtle curves.
It felt as if gravity was pulling me closer, each step unconscious. With our toes nearly touching, every nerve ending in my body urged me to touch her, to tuck a stray strand of hair away.
“Hi.” Her voice velvety and deep, slightly hoarse.
Unsure of what to say I began to speak, “H- wh- how are you?” The future of whatever could be depended on the next few moments, and I didn’t even know where to begin.
Solene felt the same way, it was evident in her tone, “I’m well, not much has changed, I’m slightly older…” she let out a weak laugh “and Izzy is a sophomore in college. He-“.
“That’s gre-“ I began. “Sorry you go ahead.” I could feel my cheeks pinken.
“I was just going to ask if you’d like to sit and chat, I have time before my client arrives and it would be nice to talk.” Her tone was unreadable, I’d hoped she’d wanted me to say yes.
With a nod of my head, she turned on her heels; her now chin length hair fanning out slightly.
————————————————————————————— Once we reach the offices, Tracy peeks her head out of her office and smirks “Ah hello Adonis.” The comment although to me is more geared toward Solene.
“Tracy, don’t you have some art to purchase or someone else’s awkward moment to make worse.” Solene rolls her eyes, the same mischievous sparkle apparent.
With a small smile, I duck into Solene’s office. Taking in the familiar-small- space, I smile, not much has changed. Photographs of Izzy through out the years, multiple paintings from artists all over the world, and even a few of us during the time we spent together on August Moon’s tour adorn her walls.
Leaving the door open slightly Solene sits on the small love seat she added to the room, its vintage, it suits her.
Taking a seat next to her I smile. She seems to be taking me in, inspecting closely how age and life have affected me. “How are you? I saw you on Jimmy Kimmel last week, are you enjoying the solo route?”.
“It’s been a journey of loss and gain. I didn’t know that with love comes pain, until that day five years ago. The music I’ve been writing is not just about infatuation but yearning for what was.” I realize I may be rambling and pause.
“It’s nice to see you passionate about music again, the same way it was when it was just you and your guitar.” Solene’s hand touches mine tenderly, “tell me more about it?”.
“Well, when we went our separate ways I began to see the road ahead was going to be the same as before if I let it. I could keep on as the British boy who messes about and lets everyone around him make decisions for him; or I could be who I am today. I’m finally involved in the process of my music from start to fi-“ a knock on the door brings me to a stop.
“Solene, Ms. Raphel is here. I know she’s a half an hour early, would you like me to tell her you’re in meeting?” Tracy looks pained as if she’s interrupted a super secret meeting- which she has, but it’s not the end of the world.
Solene’s eyes bounce between mine and Tracy’s “Fucking artists. They’re never on time, it’s always absurdly early or laughably late.”
Deciding for the both of us I stand up, “This is important Sol, I’ll be here as long as it takes. As long as your number is still the same, I would be more than happy to schedule something.” Tracy shuts the door slowly and leaves us alone again.
“Hayes, are you sure? I can tell her I’m in a meeting, I can’t expect you to move your busy schedule around because of my client’s inability to tell time.” Solene stands and begins shuffling papers on her desk, no matter what she says I know I’ll go to the ends of the earth for her.
Standing behind her I place my hand on her shoulder “I’ll be available whenever you are. Good luck with the new client.” I walk to the door before turning back “Oh and Solene, you’re still hot or whatever.” With those parting words I open the door leaving her blinking in shock. ————————————————————————————— As I sit on the sofa of my new flat, I’m like a teen boy again. Do I dare flirt with the girl? Keep it simple? I begin typing something only to delete it until I hit send on impulse.
-Hayes- I was wondering if you’d like to get some really fucking good sandwiches sometime? —————————————————————————————
(To be continued)

10-minute read.

Moscow's favorite archbishop

REPORTER (1in): While the protest leaders attempt to deny the Russian trace, Moscow is not hiding its strong support for Archbishop Bagrat Galstanyan. Famous Russian media manager Aram Gabrelyanov recently wrote that Russian special services' ranking officials, tasked with Armenia-related activities, are impressed by Galstanyan.
What's noteworthy is that last year the same Aram Gabrelyanov wrote about the need to form a new opposition group led by a clergy member, and he even named Archbishop Bagrat Galstanyan as the candidate.
This casts doubt on the spontaneous nature of Galstanyan's involvement in the protests. Gabrelyanov also mentioned a similar situation in Chechnya and that the "Chechen ethnos was saved by Haji Kadyrov". It appears the KGB has not changed its modus operandi.
The famous Kremlin ideologist Alexander Dugin, a known anti-Armenian, declared that the ongoing protests in Armenia and Georgia are polar opposites. In Georgia the protesters are Western agents, while in Armenia it's the patriots, Dugin said.
full video,

Այո, շտապեցինք

QUESTION: Do you have a consensus around a PM's candidate to replace Pashinyan?
ARCHBISHOP: That's something you should ask political parties and experts.
QUESTION: Is there any specific recommendation?
ARCHBISHOP: No.
QUESTION: On May 9 you gave Pashinyan 1 hour and 20 minutes to resign, without having a roadmap?
ARCHBISHOP: We rushed. //
Galstanyan said they are taking a break from the "street movement" but "everything that we have, all the plans, step-by-step you will know about everything. There are people fully dedicated to carrying out various activities."
Galstanyan plans to hold another meeting with political forces soon.
LHK (Edmon Marukyan's party): We held talks with Bagrat srbazan and support his movement and share his concerns regarding the border delimitation. But since the movement has turned political, we made certain proposals on how we envisage the movement's future. We need to know who the PM's candidate is. We will end our support if we see that the former regime is being given an opportunity to return to power. // [Did someone slap Edmundo last night?]
source, source, source,

video of the Kirants house that falls under the Azeri side of the border

Context in Thursday digest. The coordinates of one house with its barn, one trailer-style shop, and one garage were found to be located on the Azeri side. The owners will receive compensation from the government. The residents of the house will move out by July 24 to allow border guards to be stationed in the area.
The owner says this house was built sometime in 1972-1974 and that during the ongoing clarifications of coordinates, the government informed him that the Soviet records contained an error [leading to him receiving a cadastre certificate in independent Armenia]. This house was targeted and burned down by Azeris during the war in 1990s. The resident purchased it in 2005.
In related news. Kirants farmers will regain access to 25 hectares of land that was used as a buffer zone since 1990s.
video, video,

Foreign Minister Mirzoyan during the Session of the Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe.

MIRZOYAN: This year we celebrate the 75th anniversary of our Organization. The Council of Europe remains one of the most important international organizations in protection of human rights and the rule of law.
As we navigate through challenging times, where the threshold for violation of these basic principles is alarmingly high, it is imperative that we recommit ourselves to the values that have guided this institution.
Unfortunately, that is not the case for all the member states not only in the context of internal democratic institutions but also in their relations with other states. Humanitarian developments have unfolded in the geographic area of the Council of Europe, particularly in South Caucasus.
In September 2023, after 9 months of blockade, the world witnessed the forcible displacement of the indigenous Armenian population of Nagorno-Karabakh as a result of Azerbaijan’s military attack on the region, as documented by the Commissioner for Human Rights after her fact-finding visit in October 2023.
With the help of the international community, the Armenian Government has taken necessary measures to meet the short-term needs of the refugees. Another pressing humanitarian issue remains the issue of the release of all Armenian prisoners of war and civilians illegally detained in Azerbaijan.
Along with this, we should also note the positive developments. In April, Armenia and Azerbaijan finally started the delimitation process based on the 1991 Alma-Ata declaration, which was welcomed by many countries and organizations, including the Secretary General of the Council of Europe.
We believe the Council of Europe should contribute to the democratic security of Europe and uphold the rights of all persons living in its geographical area. //
full,

Azerbaijan plans to settle 1,200 Azerbaijani students to study at Artsakh State University in occupied Stepanakert

The regime is accused of altering buildings and churches in occupied Nagorno-Karabakh to remove all traces of the indigenous Armenian population.
source,

Belarus leader Lukashenko visited occupied Shushi, prompting criticism from opposition leader Tikhanovskaya

Yesterday his big mouth spilled some beans about the preparatory phase of the 2020 war. On Friday the two dictators traveled to various regions of Karabakh, and Shushi, located in occupied Nagorno-Karabakh. Lukashenko wants to have a piece of the construction pie; he wants to build a village for 420 families. He gifted several tractors to Aliyev and an hourlong fellatio, praising Aliyev as the de facto "leader" of the "entire South Caucasus".
Belarus's opposition leader Svetlana Tikhanovskaya criticized Lukashenko: "Ironically, the Belarus dictator once again undermines Armenia, his ally in the CSTO, and flies to assist Azerbaijan in Karabakh. This illustrates the weakness of Russian 'military alliances' and Lukashenka’s own hypocrisy. The criminal regime only cares for its own survival at all costs."
source, source, source, source, video,

parliament leaders of Armenia and Azerbaijan met second time in Geneva under the Inter-Parliamentary Union framework

Alen Simonyan and Sahiba Gafarova Farquaad met on Friday. No details as of writing this. Their first meeting took place in March.
source,

IRS collected 8.5% more taxes in Q1 2024 but didn't meet the goal

Collected: ֏501B (only taxes & duties)
YoY change: +8.5%
Performance rate: 92% (fell short by ֏44B)
ACSES analytical center: They set a high bar in 2023 but today the taxes are not growing as fast; the vehicle resale business isn't as large. If in 2023 the top 1000 taxpayers paid 15% more, this year they paid 2% more. //
Q1 expenses: ֏526B (+24% YoY, -17% from target)
Q1 revenues: ֏525B
Deficit: ֏1B (vs. expected ֏74B)
source,

parliamentary committee greenlights a bill to impose administrative liability for filing an inaccurate tax return

The government suggests that administrative liability be introduced for providing inaccurate data in tax returns, that is, data that is not directly related to calculating taxable income, but is significant for analytics

The bill will oblige taxpayers to provide full and accurate information when filing tax returns and seeks to specify the list of violations subject to inspection by the IRS.
There will be a warning for first-time violators. Failing to provide the correct data within a month will lead to a ֏10,000 ($25) fine and ֏50,000 ($130) for subsequent violations.
source, video,

last month IRS issued ֏251 million in penalties to over 600 companies for evading taxes through cash register receipt machinations

Grocery stores, cosmetics & beauty shops, gas stations, appliance stores, etc.
source,

customs authority raided the Evrika shopping center in Yerevan

It belongs to the Usabov family. Last month alone they received a ֏20 million fine for allegedly violating cash register laws.
source, source,

the Mayor of Yerevan visited Paris where he met a French architect to discuss architectural proposals for the Cascade that recently went under the city's control after decades of neglect

Avinyan visited the office of Wilmotte & Associés Architectes and met with Jean-Michel Wilmotte.
Wilmotte recently traveled to Yerevan to inspect Cascade and the Noragyugh quarter of the city. He presented two potential projects on how to complete the Cascade. Mayor Avinyan will soon present them to the public.
Wilmotte also presented a project seeking to renovate the Noragyugh quarter, located near the center of Yerevan. The project is aimed at solving some of the city’s decades-long issues.
See the Cascade video here: video
TIGRAN AVINYAN: The Cascade project will be presented to the public soon. The second program is the reconstruction of Noragyugh. It will essentially become the "new center" of Yerevan. It's a very large project, an entirely new district with elements borrowed from the Tamanyan style. This is going to be one of the most important projects in Yerevan.
WILMOTTE: It's important to finish the construction of Cascade with simple, modest, but at the same time interesting solutions. We propose building a music hall and a gallery inside the facility. I think this will be a wonderful plan for Yerevan. I will be happy to bring my ideas to Yerevan. The city has a circular shape and it's interesting that Noragyugh will also be circular. It will be a modern district and become a symbol of the capital.
source, source,

Փարիզում Շառլ Ազնավուրին նվիրված հուշատախտակ է բացվել

photo,

Moldovans will hold a referendum in October to decide if they want to join EU

President Sandu singled out Russia and corruption as the biggest threats to the sovereignty of Moldova.
In contrast, the pro-Russian opposition parties want to improve ties with Russia and oppose Sandu's rapid drive for European integration and claim the referendum is an attempt to improve Sandu's chances of winning elections.
source, source,

Armenian parliament's answer to Valentina Matvienko:

"Yes", but we aren't even going to respond to your letter.
story & context,

EBRD assists Armenia to reduce energy dependence on Russia

EBRD: We are working on the development of renewable energy, which is very important in terms of supporting the green agenda. It is also important in terms of increasing energy security and reducing dependence on third countries. We had seen the risks of extreme dependency in Europe. The issue is being discussed with the government of Armenia and the assistance in this direction will continue.
We plan to invest €500 million in Armenia this year, a historic figure, and we hope to maintain this level of investment in the future. Some €640 million have already been invested in Armenia over the past 5 years, half of which in the private sector. //
source,

culture ministers of Armenia and Turkey met in Turkmenistan to discuss the reconstruction of the Ani bridge and the benefits of having cultural cooperation

Part of an international forum by Culture Ministers.
source,

Finance Minister Vahe Hovhannisyan provides details about the EBRD forum that was held in Yerevan this year

REPORTER: This was an international-level meeting with over 3,000 delegates and officials from 74 countries. Why was it held in Yerevan this year?
MINISTER: In 2019 PM Pashinyan met the President of EBRD and suggested holding the forum in Yerevan in 2021. EBRD sent a delegation to assess Armenia's potential to see if we are capable of organizing such a large event. It was approved, but COVID delayed it.
REPORTER: Does organizing it in Armenia bring any benefits?
MINISTER: Of course. It's important to hold as many international forums as possile to place Armenia on the map. The quality of the event organization is also important. Many colleagues told us that this was at an "unprecedented" level and they were pleased that Armenia was able to show that it's a great place for investments and that we are moving forward. The forum was split into two parts: meetings by EBRD officials and ministers to draft plans and hold votes, and meetings with the private sector.
REPORTER: Examples of important events...
MINISTER: Tens of panel discussions and meetings. A very good event was held at the TUMO center attended by the EBRD leader; everyone was very impressed by the students. The EBRD elected a president and worked on its strategy for the coming years. Many panel discussions for digitization, green energy, etc. There were discussions about logistics routes. They highlighted that Crossroads of Peace and Armenia must be part of the regional transport routes. There are active talks around the Middle Corridor that connects Europe to China. Armenia found itself as part of these programs.
REPORTER: There were also publications about North-South's Sisian-Kajaran road and the construction of a new logistics center in Syunik.
MINISTER: This year we launched the construction of part of the southern section of North-South. There is going to be a very big tunnel as well. We involved our important partners: EBRD, ADB, EIB, and the French government. Together we are going to build this 60 km section. A loan agreement was signed with EBRD worth €236 million. Similar agreements will be signed with the other partners for other sections. This is part of the Crossroads of Peace as well. Regarding the construction of a new center in Syunik, it will be for customs and logistics. It will serve the entire cargo traffic, faster and more accessible.
REPORTER: But the EBRD president said they plan to invest €500 million this year. So what about the rest of the funds?
MINISTER: The remaining part will be invested in the form of agreements signed with the private sector, not the government. They will cooperate with private banks and the TUMO center. These loans will help Nagorno-Karabakh refugees, SMEs, etc.
REPORTER: So we will have a relatively cheaper loan portfolio?
MINISTER: Usually yes. The international organizations will ensure liquidity for the banks. It will be possible to provide these resources at a cheaper price to private companies. The loans will be insured. In other words, EBRD guarantees to pay the bank if the business doesn't repay the debt to the bank.
REPORTER: Overall, how will this forum's results affect Armenia's economy?
MINISTER: Holding it in Armenia has greatly improved Armenia's reputation as a place for private investments. Many private investors visited Yerevan and saw how well the events were organized; they were presented with various programs. It's an opportunity to attract new investors and increase demand for bonds issued by Armenia. The President of EBRD informed the whole world that they are investing in Armenia and that others should join as well to take advantage of the opportunity. I expect to see new investors within the next 1-2 years.
REPORTER: Archbishop Galstanyan organized protests right next to this forum, "directed" at this forum. Did this help or harm in any way?
MINISTER: When we learned about their plan to hold the protest nearby, the EBRD leadership and various ministers became concerned for safety. There were even talks about not attending the opening ceremony in the opera building. We had to ask the police to provide additional safety measures. I do not understand why they decided to hold the protest simultaneously with this forum.
REPORTER: Were you ever able to figure out why? [here comes Petros, he is about to start...]
MINISTER: No. If they disagree with certain government decisions perhaps interfering with this forum was not the best way to express it. Harming the organization of this forum is the same as harming Armenia. However, the protest played into our hands because the guests noted the democratic nature of Armenia where everyone has the right to express themselves.
REPORTER: The opposition says there were so many police officers brought there, that it amounted to repressions. Maybe the guests thought Armenia is a "police state"?
MINISTER: No. That morning we met the EBRD secretary who was concerned and didn't know what to do. We reassured them that additional safety measures would be implemented. They thanked us, and I'd like to thank our police officers for preventing problems. Even many guests who gathered at the opera backyard had no idea there were protests not far away.
source,

We bought a car from NY and drove to VA a week later, the DMV said since were military we don’t have to change registration or anything. But how does inspection work ?
Do i get it inspected in VA ?

Date: 05/17/2024

Reading time: 10 minutes, 2071 words

🏛️ Politics & Government

The government's housing security program for the people of Artsakh will not be effective. Hayk Khanumyan

Artsakh, under blockade since December 12, 2022, was exhausted for serious resistance. Mass deportation of Artsakh residents to the Republic of Armenia began on September 24. At the beginning of October, the number of forcibly displaced citizens who crossed the Hakari bridge to Armenia reached 100,617.

CivilNet

Armen Grigoryan denied Dmitry Peskov's statement about the border guards

Armenia proposed to Russia and Moscow accepted that only Armenian border guards should carry out service at Zvartnots airport. Secretary of the Security Council Armen Grigoryan denied the statement of the press secretary of the Russian President, Dmitry Peskov, that the Armenian side requested that the Russian border guards stay on the Armenia-Turkey and Armenia-Iran border. Peskov confirmed that Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan and Russian President Vladimir Putin held a meeting on May 8.

CivilNet

Border residents overnight on highway to protest Armenia’s

Residents of Kirants continue to express outrage over the government’s decision to cede land to Azerbaijan.

PanArmenian

Armenian, German Foreign Ministers discuss security situation in South Caucasus

The parties noted with satisfaction the active dynamics of the high-level political dialogue between the two countries. Issues of cooperation with international partners in this direction were discussed. There was also an exchange of views on regional economic programs.

Armenpress, Armenian, German FMs discuss security situation in the South Caucasus

Armenian, Austrian foreign ministers discuss the course of the Armenian-Azerbaijani negotiations

Austrian Foreign Minister Alexander Schallenberg met with Armenian Foreign Minister Ararat Mirzoyan in Strasbourg. He discussed bilateral and EU cooperation as well as the state of Armenia-Azerbaijan talks.

Armenpress, Armenian, German FMs discuss security situation in the South Caucasus

EU welcomes continuation of border delimitation process between Armenia, Azerbaijan

EU welcomes progress made in the framework of the Armenia-Azerbaijan border delimitation process. The EU encourages parties to take further decisive steps to tackle other outstanding bilateral issues.

Armenpress, CoE Committee of Ministers welcomes border delimitation process between Armenia and Azerbaijan, The Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe welcomed the demarcation process, Georgia welcomes launch ofborder delimitation between Armenia and Azerbaijan - Kobakhidze, CoE Committee of Ministers expresses support to Armenia-Azerbaijan peace process

Delegation from the German Bundestag to visit Armenia

Members of the Social-Democratic faction of the German Bundestag will arrive in Armenia on May 20-22. The delegation from Germany will be received by the Chairman of the Standing Committee on Foreign Relations of the National Assembly.

Armenpress, Armenian, German FMs discuss security situation in the South Caucasus

India awaits clear proposals from Armenia on Chabahar Port use - Ambassador

India is waiting for details from the Armenian side regarding use of Chabahar port. Ambassador Nilakshi Saha Sinha: "We will definitely take it into account when we receive clear proposals" Armenia needs more communication projects, ambassador says.

Armenpress

Ruben Vardanyan’s family call on the international community to demand for Vardanyan's unconditional release

The family of Ruben Vardanyan call on the international community to demand for his unconditional release. The family’s international legal counsel stated that the extension of pre-trial detention is a flagrant violation of his rights. Azerbaijan has proclaimed to be the "COP of peace"

Armenpress, Ruben Vardanyan's family calls on the international community to demand the release of Armenians held in Baku, Ruben Vardanyan’s family calls on international community to demand unconditional release forArmenian prisoners

Armenia reaffirms its commitment to the lasting, stable peace in the South Caucasus – Mirzoyan

Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Armenia Ararat Mirzoyan said at the 133rd Session of the Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe. He said Armenia reaffirms its commitment to the lasting, stable peace in the South Caucasus based on mutual recognition of territorial integrity.

Armenpress, Armenian, German FMs discuss security situation in the South Caucasus, Armenia reaffirms its commitment to lasting, stable peace in the South Caucasus – FM

Minister Zhanna Andreasyan departs for Turkmenistan

Minister of Education, Science, Culture and Sport departs for Turkmenistan on three-day visit. Zhanna Andreasyan will participate in international conference dedicated to the 300th anniversary of the birth of the poet Magtymguly Fragi. Conference will be attended by high-ranking delegations from different countries, heads of international organizations, representatives of the scientific and creative community.

Armenpress

Tavush governor meets Kirants residents

Hayk Ghalumyan, governor of Tavush, visited the village of Kirants and met the residents of the village. The closed-door meeting was brief, and the governor left without providing any details to the journalists. Residents have been blocking the Kirants-Voskepar road to protest the agreements reached between Armenia and Azerbaijan regarding border demarcation.

Armenpress

Armenia to hold taxpayers liable for filing inaccurate tax returns

Armenia’s National Assembly committee on economic affairs adopted a bill that seeks to introduce administrative liability for filing inaccurate tax returns. The bill seeks to oblige taxpayers to provide full and accurate information when filing tax returns and to specify the list of violations subject to inspection by customs and tax authorities. Failing to provide correct data within the next 30 days will result in a 10,000 AMD fine.

ArkaAm

Armenian FM reminds Council of Europe about Karabakh refugees and Armenian prisoners of war, held in Azerbaijan

Armenian Foreign Minister Ararat Mirzoyan reminded the human rights organization about the Karabakh refugees and Armenian prisoners of war, but noted positives in negotiations with Azerbaijan. He said: 'With the help of the international community, the Armenian Government has taken necessary measures to meet the short-term needs of the refugees'

ArkaAm, Armenia reaffirms its commitment to lasting, stable peace in the South Caucasus – FM

Luxembourg parliament adopts motion supporting Armenia, peace, stability in South Caucasus

Chamber of Deputies of Luxembourg unanimously adopted a motion expressing support for Armenia. Motion condemns the forced exodus of more than 100,000 Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh as a result of Azerbaijan's unjustified military operation. Motion calls for the immediate release of Armenian prisoners of war by Azerbaijan.

ArkaAm

Armenian Ambassador discusses regional processes with Rep. Mark Green

Armenia’s Ambassador to US Lilit Makunts met with Congressman Mark Green (R-Tennessee) on May 16. The interlocutors discussed the peace process between Armenia and Azerbaijan and the normalization of Armenia-Turkey relations.

ArmRadio

Henrikh Mkhitaryan draws international community's attention to the problem of captives held in Azerbaijan

Henrikh Mkhitaryan has taken his Instagram to share the news about the extension of the arrest period for the military-political leaders of Nagorno-Karabakh held in Azerbaijan. The former captain of the Armenian national football team and the Inter Milan midfielder took his Instagram photo to share.

Armenpress

Ambassador of Armenia to the Holy See presents credentials to His Holiness Pope Francis

The Ambassador of the Republic of Armenia to the Holy See Boris Sahakyan presented his credentials to His Holiness Pope Francis. Ambassador expressed gratitude for Pope Francis' support for Armenian Genocide. Pope Francis wished success to the newly appointed Ambassador in his mission.

Armenpress

Alen Simonyan addresses students' questions at the University of Geneva

Chairman of the National Assembly of the Republic of Armenia, Alen Simonyan, met with the students of the University of Geneva. He answered the questions of students about domestic and foreign policy, inter-parliamentary and interstate negotiations.

Armenpress, Allen Simonyan and Sahiba Gafarova also in Geneva, The heads of the parliaments of Armenia and Azerbaijan met in Geneva, Armenian, Azerbaijani Parliament Speakers meet in Geneva, Armenian, Azerbaijani heads of parliament meet in Switzerland

Xi Jinping declared the need to create a new global security structure

President of China, Xi Jinping, believes that in order to settle the Ukrainian crisis, it is necessary to create a new effective structure for ensuring global security. The message says that the solution to any serious problem should be aimed at eliminating not only the symptoms, but also the root cause.

Armenpress

Reverend Bagrat met with ANC representatives

Archbishop Bagrat Galstanyan met with representatives of Armenian National Congress (ANC) Four people from the ANC were present, including ANC vice-presidents Levon Zurabyan and Aram Manukyan. The first president of Armenia, ANC chairman Levon Ter-Petrosyan, was not present at the meeting.

CivilNet, Archbishop Galstanyan meets with Ter-Petrosyan’s ANC party, Archbishop Bagrat met with representatives of Levon Ter-Petrosyan's party

Renowned French architect Jean-Michel Wilmotte presents two projects on Yerevan’s Cascade

Yerevan’s Mayor Tigran Avinyan visited the Paris office of Wilmotte & Associés Architectes and met with a renowned French architect. The mayor also presented a project seeking to renovate the Noragyugh quarter, located near the centre of the city.

ArkaAm

💵 Economy

Acba Bank to allocate 50 million euros for development of SMEs in Armenia

In cooperation with the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, Acba Bank will allocate a total of 50 million Euros for financing and development of small and medium-sized enterprises in Armenia. For the first time, the EBRD will share the risk of repayment of loans provided by a financial institution. This cooperation will further expand the financial support provided to SMEs.

ArkaAm, EBRD provides $10 million to Armeconombank toboost support for micro, small and medium-sized businesses in Armenia, EBRD assists Armenia to reduce energy dependence on third countries – President, Akba Bank will allocate 50 million euros to the development of SMEs in Armenia

The Armenian Diocese of Canada denies the financial abuses attributed to Bishop Bagrat

Presbytery of Armenian Diocese of Canada issued statement regarding financial abuses attributed to former leader of the Diocese, Archbishop Bagrat Galstanyan. Decision on administrative and financial matters of Diocese are made by Diocesan Council and not by the leader, so imputing misconduct to the leader is fabrication and slander.

CivilNet

🎭 Culture

Armenian, Turkish ministers emphasize cultural cooperation's role in the regulation of relations

Minister of Education, Science, Culture and Sports of Armenia Zhanna Andreasyan met the Minister of Culture and Tourism of the Republic of Turkey Mehmet Nuri Ersoy. The ministers emphasized the importance of cultural cooperation between Armenia and Turkey.

Armenpress, Zhanna Andreasyan discussed the restoration of the Ani bridge with her Turkish counterpart

⚽ Sport

Armenian women's basketball player wins Kazakhstan club championship

Inga Manucharyan, a player of the national women's basketball team of Armenia, became the winner of the Kazakhstan club championship. The Armenian player scored 23 points, took possession of the rebounding ball 11 times and made 8 effective passes.

Armenpress

Armenian Chess Players Draw Matches in Sharjah Tournament

Chess players Shant Sargsyan, Manuel Petrosyan and Hayk Martirosyan continue their performances at the Sharjah Masters Masters tournament. Shant ended their matches in a draw in the 3rd round of the 7th tournament in the UAE.

Armenpress

Donations to Armenia:

Himnadram
ServicemenFund
Armenian Wounded Heroes
ArmeniaFund

Depending on who you ask, a government is merely a monopoly on violence within a geographical area ~ Me, just now. IDK about a source, have some more possibly-unfinished mind vomit that's been banging around my drafts for however long.
-
Counter-Admiral Bgal'djuyk was having a bad day.
Now, to be fair to the Universe at large, Counter-Admiral Bgal'djuyk probably deserved a few more bad days than he'd actually had over the past couple of years. He was quite par for the course for the military he was in: while he wasn't corrupt enough to be a problem, nor heavy-handed enough to inspire disloyalty, nor too high on his own authority to have delusions of grandeur or independence, he was still corrupt, heavy-handed, and somewhere in the realm of mildly stoned on his own authority. Oh, and also nowhere near as competent as he could have been.
Granted, the situation he had been put in would have required more than his own heightened competence to break out of, as it was really an end product of an uninterrupted chain of minor mistakes going back three months, and no amount of competence would have allowed him to counter the tactics his unknown opposite was pulling - although with hindsight he could certainly have responded to the developing situation faster and more efficiently than he ended up doing.
Hindsight, however, doesn't matter very much in the thick of things unless you have a way to actively turn back time, or otherwise change the past. Which was something that Counter-Admiral Bgal'djuyk certainly couldn't do - although, considering how the enemy were in the process of kicking down the internal security door between them and him, it was really quite understandable that he was hoping that he could. Ideally on the scale of years, rather than minutes, but honestly anything above about twenty seconds would have done him good at that point.
Nominally, said door would have been able to withstand impacts far greater than the impact of a biped's hoof behind some emblazoned and moderately damaged yellow power armour operating on three out of four generators, but... only nominally.
The ship that the door (and both sophonts) were on was neither a relatively new build nor a relatively old build, and it was neither important nor unimportant. It was, for all intents and purposes, just one of many others of its kind constructed for the Ngae'thikhian Corporation. It had passed all inspections (which included and were mostly limited to a thorough once-over with mark one eyeballs) and had not come in over budget, so there was no real reason for the Ngae'thikh to reject it.
It was right about now, however, that the unnoticed... irregularities in its construction would come to fruition. Of the two inspectors responsible for checking this area of the vessel - what would, in almost any other situation, be an unimportant connecting hallway - one of them had been let go over a month earlier to save on overhead costs, and the other was coasting towards retirement and could really have cared a whole lot more. So when a few security bolts were stolen by a labourer looking to use them on one of her own projects, a few more incorrectly tightened by a different one with an arm injury, and one or two more inserted a little too zealously by a newer hire who didn't know any better, nobody had really noticed. And, when the enterprising black market metal trader who had scooped out some of the door's materials to sell got caught doing the same thing a month later, nobody had thought to recheck the doors he had previously worked on.
The end result of all of this was a door that very much could not withstand what it was nominally supposed to be able to. As it crumpled under the force of a power-armoured kick, clearing the sightline between the muzzle of a moderately personalised legacy-issue laser rifle (used because it was more reliable than the new standard-issue, not because the latter wasn't bullpup, now shut up about it) and the skull of the a high-ranking officer in the process of getting to a place from which he could evacuate his flagship, yet another domino fell in a long chain of knock-on effects: that the Ngae'thikhian Corporation had just lost a valuable (though not necessarily irreplaceable) high-ranking officer in the middle of a battle, which, for the fleet he was supposed to be commanding, was really quite a large inconvenience indeed.
Or, to put it in fewer words, Counter-Admiral Bgal'djuyk's day very quickly got a whole lot worse.
.
Meanwhile, in the next star system over, the cyan power-armoured boarding teams were having a lot more trouble than their yellow counterparts two and a half lightyears away. And (although they would never admit it) they were having a whole lot less fun, too. Indeed, most of the fun in the boarding action was being had by Leftenant Bunkingsmythe's platoon of Royal Marines instead. Partly because, unlike the unfortunate Counter-Admiral, they had functional blast doors to play with, but also because, in the words of one particular moribund cyan-garbed soldier,
"WHY IN THE NAME OF THE GREAT MOTHER WOULD THERE BE A LASER TURRET THERE?!?"
Now, in terms of last words, that's not exactly the most heroic thing for a soldier to say, but it is certainly understandable, especially when the laser turret in question was deployed specifically to position you in the sightline of a rather quite dashing and well-trained marksman and, just as importantly, in front of the barrel of his trusty Lee-Enfield Mk X̅L̅.
But, for as much as Private Gommingsop would boast about this specific kill later over his third through fifth cups of Private Lesterway's self-made Westmorland* tea that evening, the poor cyan marine on the other end of his barrel did have a point. Because, unlike poor Counter-Admiral Bgal'djuyk, Bunkingsmuthe's platoon weren't stationed on a "proper" warship. While the unlucky Counter-Admiral had simply taken a run-of-the-mill battleship as his flagship when he was promoted to the position, the flagship provided by the Human navy to Admiral Siobhan "It's pronounced See-Oh-Ban" O'Croydon was a communications vessel - a communications vessel with, nominally, nothing more than basic self-defence weaponry that wasn't rated against anything more than space junk, fire-and-forget missiles, and maybe the odd enterprising bomber if you're lucky.
..."Rated against" in this case not equating to "is only effective against", as fully half of the cyan marine boarding troop and the metaphorical spirits of their well-shielded and highly-armoured boarding craft will tell you. They will likely also go on a rant about how their part of the plan was only agreed on specifically because the Human flagship was a lightly-armed communications ship instead of an actual warship, as even the hair-brained schemers who came up with the plan of boarding the enemy flagship(s) and decapitating the entire chain of command didn't think it would have worked on the Humans if their flag was being flown by a proper warship, but, aside from being a minor falsehood (the cyans would have had backup had the Human flagship been a conventional one, but they would have gone ahead with their mission regardless), such a rant is also a digression from the aforementioned main point.
Which, in a short paragraph or so, is that the Human fleet had a great day that was only really brought down by the news after the fact that the Germans had won on penalties. Again. (Oh, and the fact that they had to retreat due to their position becoming untennable due to the front collapsing elsewhere, but that's just what coalition warfare is like sometimes.)
.
As a direct result of the substantial interior defences aboard what was - and this must be stressed - a communications vessel, the Human Flagship was not successfully boarded at the start of the battle. The Human fleet was able to hold their section of the line for a full sixteen hours longer than any other allied fleet in their sector, and were ultimately able to retreat to the second line of defence in much better order when they were ordered to turn tail and flee fall back. Thanks to jumping away in good order (and a lack of chronic cost-cutting), the Human fleet also arrived in a far more intact manner than any others, with even their stragglers arriving not too long after their main fleet - compared to the multiple days that the unused, unmaintained, and remarkably cheap backup drives of many other vessels from other militaries would take.
For the Ngae'thikhian Corporation, who had expected the attack on 'their' sector of the front to be a large prestige boost to their already prestigious military wing, the collapse and rank devastation of their forces in several systems at once proved to be a humiliating affair that was only further compounded by the fact that it was the heroics of a governmental contribution (and a significantly smaller one at that) that actually managed to earn the prestige instead. Fortunately for them, though, they weren't comically stupid, so an investigation into the Human military was launched in an attempt to figure out what lessons could be learned.
The first answer was found very quickly. The ships the Humans used - even their flagship - cost what would be colloquially referred to as "way too much money". Rumours suggesting that a member of the investigatory board fainted when he heard about how much (when factoring in the R&D costs) each one of the Human "sensor ships" individually cost are substantially true, although they do unfortunately tend to omit the snazzy effects on the powerpoint and the epileptic tendencies of that particular board member, the importance of which shall be left to the reader's discretion.
The condensed version of the report the Ngae'thikh investigation eventually produced was that, in monetary terms, the quote-unquote "small" Human contribution actually cost about as much as their own, so it was no wonder that they performed so well in the one system they had been tasked with holding. The idea of corruption as an alternative cause for the cost was quickly discarded, because corruption on the scale that would be required does not, in fact, lead to a stronger fighting force, and if you think that is the case you probably need more common sense. Many other reasons with more substance behind them were also proposed, however, of which there were three with significant substance to back themselves up:
The first was the bureaucratic hellscape (specifically the 'scape of the single hell of Ngae mythology) more vulgarly known as 'the procurement process for warships for the Human military'. Specifics of this process are almost always omitted in discussions of this topic - ostensibly to save the reader's sanity, but really just because nobody can be bothered to look them up and make sense of them when rewriting the above sentence in an essay or report. That alone should provide enough context to deduce exactly why it's a copulatingly huge money bin, but there's only so much red tape you can shove in front of something before it stops being a thing, so the bureaucracy alone was insufficient to explain the funding density gap.
The second was the stupid amounts of R&D the Humans did that allowed their ships to be very slightly more efficient at what they do. Efficient in the spatial, non-monetary senses, of course. In a typical category of equipment - say, main guns, secondary guns, point-defence, shields... you get the idea - something maybe 90% as efficient as what the Humans used could be obtained for a tenth of the price without too much hassle; yet, for some reason, the Humans really seemed to like making their stuff more expensive.
However, the third and most important reason why the Human ships cost so much was because the ships that the Humans actually ended up building were over-engineered to the hells (specifically the two hells from Thikh mythology) and back.
To an extent, these expenses could be justified. After all, it is entirely possible to comprehend why someone might want interior defences installed on a flagship-type vessel, even if the odds are that said defences will never get used and the flagship will just be blown up in any of the old-fashioned ways available to whoever it's fighting. It is also entirely possible to comprehend why some fleets might be constructed with multiple primary FTL drives instead of a primary and secondary - an elite fleet being slowed down by otherwise minor damage might prove disastrous in the long term, and hedging against this bad luck is typically seen as worth the cost for at least one dedicated force in any given military.
However, to a much larger extent, these expenses seemed entirely frivolous. There was no need for the Cafeteria on a ship to be able to serve as a bridge if both the main and backup bridges got damaged beyond use. Airlocks didn't need to seal against a pressure an order of magnitude higher than they were ever supposed to see. And what was "Defence against low-effort TTS bots, assuming one stoops low enough to steal this story" even supposed to mean? Hell (pick any of the three), those weren't even the most egregious examples: Human ships regularly considered their engines to be at 'full speed' when at three-quarters of what they could theoretically do; had many amenities that were far in excess of many civilian vessels for a crew that did not require them; and, most egregiously, had void or unused spaces as "future-proofing" which could be used to install equipment designed after the ship itself had been constructed.
And yet, as the report concluded, the results of these expenses could not be denied. The Humans had won the battle they were faced with quite handily specifically as the result of all the money they had spent on ineffective things, and had also won a nigh-unacceptable amount of prestige along with it at the expense of the Ngae'thikh Corporation. If the Corporation wanted to improve; to repair its prestige and prevent such a humiliation happening again (or, at the very least, prevent the massive costs associated with having to replace your entire on-duty fleet on a front because the one you had there was damaged or destroyed in its entirety), something had to be done.
Now, if the Ngae'thikhian Corporation were Human in origin, they would most likely have been liable to discard these results and blame bad luck or something, because the revelation of "more money = better quality" would mean spending more money, and that is something that, for some reason, has a repeated habit of becoming anathema to the Human Business Classes.
However, the Ngae'thikhian Corporation, as the name may or may not suggest, were predominantly Ngae'thikh in makeup. So, as beings possessing slightly more capability to plan for the future, a decision (by majority vote) was made among the corporation to shift their overall military strategy from their current model to one of a higher-quality lower-quantity methodology. While such a shift would take time - the ships they did have were still perfectly usable, after all - they would find, in half a century or so, that they could respond far more effectively to threats that required substantial usage of force, such as the war they were currently engaged in. Additionally, being a corporation as large as they were, they could afford a fleet so large it was unlikely that they would ever become overstretched, a further benefit to the strategy.
...ah, who am I kidding? The Ngae'thikh Business Class are just as bad as the Human ones. Their military hasn't changed a bit. You could probably find a cut corner within five minutes of boarding any ship of theirs, no matter which.
The Humans haven't changed, either. They're currently ten years deep into trying to procure a new batch of cruisers, having somehow blown more on legal fees already than your average nation would have spent on the actual fleet. Which was also the initial budget allocation. If it weren't for the designers of the batch of cruisers the Humans are trying to replace deciding to make them viable for 100 years after their nominal "expiry" date instead of the usual 50, the Human fleet would be a lot weaker and many Human sub-nations would be out a significant chunk of their cruiser screen.
...
So, to give you an actual answer to what was promised in the title, the reasons the Humans go over budget? One, they don't know the meaning of the first half of "cost-effectiveness", and Two, Human Lawyers are really expensive.
It's mostly number two.

Jerry admittedly felt damn short at the moment. With Komugai and Jaruna on his left and right respectively and his four Cannidor daughters behind him, he was a man among giants and while he didn't generally feel like that around Jaruna and the girls, the twelve foot tall Komugai certainly added to the sensation as they passed through the armored doors of the vestibule into the Den proper. The halls were deserted at the moment, a lot of the Bridger women were at their day jobs, and Jerry suspected it was close to nap time for the ravening horde in the nursery.
Komugai looks around, inspecting the doors and picking out a few concealed defensive systems with her experienced eye before letting out a low whistle.
"Hey! These are damn nice digs! Not quite my fortress back home, but this bad girl can move and probably has a similar amount of heavy guns if we count the rest of the ship this Den of yours is a part of."
Jerry chuckles at Komugai's comment.
"Oh you haven't even seen the fun toys we have hidden away on the ship. We don't just pack lasers and plasma."
"Yeah I hear you humans love your kinetics and missile weapons." Komugai chuckles again. "Smart. Nice to run into a sensible species on that account. Shit's way too useful to discount completely even if they're expensive and take up space. Rail guns at the very least for the more modern form of a kinetic weapon. If you're not using every available tool, you're gonna end up hammering a nail in with a wrench or some shit, and while it'll probably work... well. Warfare's a game of efficiency first and foremost. Use the right tool, for the right job."
"Always fascinating to see some of the more sensible opinions on how to fight a war coming from the girls who tend to play barbarians."
Komugai reaches over and slaps her son in law on the back.
"Hah. Yeah. Well. You know as well as anyone by now we ain't barbarians. We just like to play rough and have a scrap now and then. We act like barbarians to honor our culture and heritage, but we're one of the few species in the galaxy that achieved FTL all on our damn lonesome. We had advanced tech and weapons when we met the council, and we did meet them, not the other way around. We found one of their inhabited worlds before they found us."
"I didn't know that part, very impressive."
It's Jaruna's turn to chuckle. "Mom left out the part where the colony fleet that found the world immediately invaded and conquered the world. Led to a brief war with the council... They had a slight edge on us in naval power but they couldn't dislodge us on the ground, so the stalemate led to a treaty and the Cannidor joining up with some... minor restrictions on our colonization and expansion in our neck of the woods."
Komugai grins. "Still got to keep that world though. Civvies took a vote and decided they liked being under Cannidor rule. Nicer than the last group of folks who ran the joint. Just goes to show you that the barbarian might be a friendlier face than some of the 'civilized' people in the galaxy. Has other benefits too, ones you'd do well to keep in mind. Our politics are nice and straight forward for the most part, and intrigue tends to involve trying to get kids hitched up together. No need to knife someone in the back when you can just knife them in the front in public in a regulated bout. Assassinations are rare in Cannidor space. Because literally everyone will come down on whoever paid for the hit like a sack of bricks, and if they survive that they'll get their heads cut off by an honor court."
"I do appreciate how straightforward Cannidor are. A lot of humans do."
"I think every single girl in Cannidor space has heard that by now, if not on the grape vine, then from one of your Undaunted trivid shows. Hope your boys are ready to be beating off horny bachelorettes left and right with a particularly big stick."
Jerry arches an eyebrow. "What makes you think those girls aren't getting welcomed with open arms? The Apuk certainly found a receptive audience among my troops."
"Fair point. Figure we're in the same boat as the Apuk, we tend to keep it within our own species for a variety of reasons, but we also get out and about more than the Apuk do, so you get Cannidor married to Tret men or whatever more commonly, by one way or another, but men who are down right eager for Cannidor brides? Hah. Hot damn that's not something we run into every day! Even a lot of other Apex species find Cannidor women to be a bit too much woman to handle."
"Well the only way my Marines respond to something like that is 'challenge accepted'."
Another laugh from Komugai. "Hah! I just fuckin' bet. Hell from what Jaruna tells me, a few of your boys married a passel of Crimsonhewers and you don't get much more in your face than those girls by Cannidor standards. Now... To more important matters, where's this adorable newborn granddaughter of mine? I want to spoil her a bit before I spoil the bigguns."
Jerry nods, then turns and looks back at Joan and the girls. "Tell you girls what, get the dining room set up as a lounge and maybe drag a keg of Cannidor beer out of Jaruna's stash and get it chilling, the seven of us and any of your mothers who want to join will have a jaw after Komugai finishes greeting your little sister. Sound good?"
Joan visibly resists saluting, and eagerly leads the other girls off to get to work. It didn't take a psychic to take a guess as to what the girls were thinking. Beers with Mom, Dad and Grandma? Now that sounded like a grand old time!
"Come on Mom, nursery is this way." Jaruna gestures with a nod of her head and pads off down the hallway with Komugai and Jerry trailing in her wake.
Before they can make it down the hallway Fenrir and Hel come racing by, coming to a hard stop as soon as they realize someone new is in the den, the two wolf pups coming over and cautiously sniffing Komugai as she crouches down and gives them a few light scritches.
"What are these adorable little things? Lopen puppies? No. They'd be able to talk by now."
Komugai looks up. "Seriously what are these? I ain't seen a critter like this before. Decent size on'em."
"They're called Dire Wolves, and those are puppies, infants, not even juveniles yet technically." Jerry says. "We believe Fenrir, the male, the slightly larger one with the darker coat and the yellow eyes, will hit around five hundred pounds, maybe more. The rest of his litter makes like Hel here will probably hit about four hundred, four hundred and fifty pounds. They're a genetic manipulation of a highly intelligent pack hunter humans domesticated back on Earth."
That got a raise of an eyebrow from Komugai.
"...You domesticated a large, intelligent, carnivorous pack hunter back on your planet? Without axiom?"
"Nothing but raw human stubbornness and time. Wolves are a bit smaller than these sweeties will be of course, but one of the great human maxims is 'Not if I befriend it first!'. We have examples of humans befriending pretty much every dangerous thing on our planet... and plenty of examples of idiots trying to befriend pretty much every dangerous thing on our planet and failing spectacularly."
"Huh. Next you'll tell me those tasty cow things started off dangerous too."
Jerry smirks. "What eventually became the modern cow was on the lower end of dangerous for bovine animals on Earth, but a pissed off bull can do plenty of damage if he wants to. One of their wild cousins, the Bison, can be a literal ton of bad attitude and anger management issues. We didn't manage to ranch those critters till much later on with the help of technology. Great tasting meat."
"Well sign me up for a bison steak once we get to dinner then!"
Firi is waiting for them in front of the nursery door when they round the corner, looking quite... tall, actually for her diminutive height. Maybe it was just that she was looming large in spirit, because she had her arms crossed and was doing her best to look stern.
"The children are napping. I can't let anyone in the nursery right now."
Komugai glances down at Firi. "You're not honestly trying to keep you from my granddaughter are you little one?"
The petite vulpine alien bristles, looking Komugai square in the eye.
"Your granddaughter, my daughter, is napping, along with the rest of her siblings. There will be plenty of time to meet her, and the rest of the children besides, but I will not risk waking up our family's entire brood simply because you haven't figured out patience at your age!"
Jaruna and Jerry's eyes both widen, and they look over at Komugai. Surely a Cannidor warlady wouldn't respond well to that, would she? Jerry can feel himself tensing as he looks for some sort of negative response from Komugai that would require him to step in forcefully... but doesn't step in immediately. Firi can handle herself, and Jerry trusts his wife. She wouldn't draw a hard line like that if she didn't mean it.
Instead of getting angry however, Komugai laughs, long and hard. "Hah. So you're Firi then. My apologies little mother, I will wait for them to finish their rest."
Firi nods curtly. "Wait in the dining room, I'll make sure one of the nannies brings Hippolyta out for some family time with her parents, grandma and big sisters as soon as she wakes up."
Komugai sketches a bit of a bow, and the trio are heading back up the hallway. "Heh. I like that one. Didn't flinch a hair when it came to the best interests of the children. Good to know your sisters have some spine, wouldn't expect it from such a cute little thing like Firi."
"I did warn you Mom. Tiny, but fierce."
"Well I damn sure believe you now! Tiny but fierce indeed."
The elder Cannidor daughters have just finished getting the lounge in order when they walk in, having set up an appropriately large chair for someone of Komugai's... 'dimensions' and had a keg of Cannidor beer and mugs prepared as bidden, the four girls clearly eagerly waiting for their elders.
Adults seated, drinks served all around, Komugai takes a deep swig and sighs.
"Damn, haven't had an audience of granddaughters like this in awhile! Alright. I know girls your age are brimming with questions and ever hungry for stories, I was a pup too once upon a time after all... so what stories do you girls want to hear first?"
Makula raises a hand, looking a touch awkward for a second.
"Actually honored Matron, I uh. I have a question for Father first."
Jerry chuckles. "Oh really? Well go ahead Makula."
Makula nods slowly. "Mother Jaruna was telling me about the name of the new assault ship we have aboard, the Kandahar Province. Apparently American Marines, like you, conducted an amphibious invasion of a landlocked country. How the heck does that even work?"
Jerry lets out a bark of laughter. He'd been anticipating all sorts of questions from Makula but he hadn't been expecting that one!
"Well let's see... so it was an operation early on in my homeland's invasion of a country called Afghanistan. Marines of the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit conducted an amphibious assault from their landing ships by air, about four hundred miles inland to a region of Afghanistan called Kandahar. They had a strength of around a thousand Marines and faced a battle hardened enemy that had more weapons than a lot of light infantry troops can normally counter. Fifteen armored vehicles attacked the forward operating base those Marines established within a day or two, and Marine attack helicopters neutralized them. That forward operating base was named Camp Rhino, and the Marines were the first concentration of conventional forces in Afghanistan. A few days later with help from our allies, we moved North and secured Kandahar International Airport, bringing a major airport under friendly control and setting up the second major operations center in Afghanistan. Those bases would remain in operational use until the US withdrew from the country around twenty years later."
Makula sticks her hand up again. "Holy crap, what kind of fighting takes twenty years!?"
Jerry shrugs. "Fighting a well entrenched local insurgency is always the most brutal, grinding kind of warfare. They know the local terrain, they know the people, because they are the people... we were invaders in the end, and we ignored a lot of our own play book on counterinsurgency operations in favor of letting politicians run the show. An unfortunate trend in my homeland's military. Not to say there shouldn't be civilian control over the military, but prior to a war called Vietnam, politicians generally kept their hands on the pocket book, and gave us objectives. They didn't tell the generals how to achieve those objectives or tie their hands behind their backs."
"That seems complicated, and not nearly as exciting as the assault."
"It's not, but it's just how things go in a society at times. Opinions change and shift. Things happen. Some good. Some bad. Sometimes we learn from them. Other times we get a beating and the lessons still don't sink in. Others take yet different lessons than the ones that seem most obvious to us. It's the nature of trying to find consensus between sometimes very different people with wildly different points of view."
Jerry sits back and takes a long pull from his tankard, letting the beer quench his growing thirst.
"In the end girls, you just need to remember the world doesn't always see things the way we do. Perspective's a hard thing to understand, but people having very different experiences aren't any less valid than ours... even if they might still be wrong."
"...Isn't that contradictory?"
"Somewhat, but it's the nature of the beast. In the end if people have a different answer to a question or a problem, or draw different conclusions from a result, it behooves you as a leader to not just smack them into submission, but to investigate why. You might decide you were wrong in your own initial judgment. Or they'll be convinced by your point of view. Or you won't be able to find common ground, but at least you'll have an understanding of why they're thinking the way they are, and knowledge is never something to discard. Especially if it can leave you with a blind spot."
Jaruna chuckles. "Yep. Couldn't have said it better myself. Blind spots get you killed. Be it in your knowledge, your perception or more practically, in your defenses or scouts when you're settling in for the night or establishing a forward operating base of your own. Doesn't mean you shouldn't trust your own judgment mind you. Just don't be afraid to learn or get more information."
"Heh. My oh my." Komugai grins down at the proceedings before taking a big swig of her beer. "With instruction like this, I just can't wait to see what kind of war ladies you girls grow into in a few decades. I can't help but think you're going to be something special by the time my girl and her hubby are done with you! Now, who wants to hear about the time I dropped on a battalion of infantry with just four girls and routed them in under ten minutes?"
First Last

Title: None (suggestions welcome) Genre: Sci-fi Word count: 2000
I'd like to have some feedback or tips. Or a general impression. Thx in advance!
Chapter 1: The boy and his mother
1.1 The farm
Kyo stood at the edge of the farm, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of Zandarius stretching out before him. The sky above was a canvas of swirling purples and blues streaked with the faint glow of distant stars. A cool breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the enticing scent of Heyla flowers. With a sigh, Kyo set down his mechanic wheelbarrow, the last of his chores for the day completed. He began to make his way back towards the farm, his footsteps crunching softly against the rocky terrain. As he passed through the pink and green garden, the aroma of his mother's porridge drifted towards him, tempting his hunger. Despite eating the same meal every day, Kyo's stomach grumbled with anticipation. The suuka porridge was all he needed right now, its warm, comforting embrace promising to chase away the chill of the evening. Arriving at the farm, Kyo took in the familiar sight of their plascrete igloo. Half of the structure was comprised of little octagon windows, through which the warm glow of a fire emanated from the chimney. It was home, humble yet comforting in its simplicity.
Entering the igloo, Kyo found his mother, Altha, bustling about the kitchen, preparing dinner. "Kyo, dear, could you set the table?" she called out, her voice gentle yet firm. Kyo nodded, a small smile playing at his lips as he arranged the mismatched dishes in their usual places. Each plate was different, yet they always ended up in the same spot, a testament to the routines of their daily life. Once the table was set, Kyo ignited the moonlamp, casting a soft yellow glow across the igloo walls. Altha emerged from the kitchen, carrying a steaming pot of suuka porridge. "Careful, Kyo," she warned as she placed the pot on the table. "It's hot." Kyo nodded as he heard this many times before, his mouth watering at the sight and smell of the hearty meal before him. They ate in silence, the only sound of the clinking of spoons against bowls as they savored each mouthful.
After a moment, Kyo broke the silence, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Do you ever wonder what's beyond Zandarius, Mumu?" he asked. Altha hesitated, her expression guarded. "I don't know, Kyo," she replied softly. "But we have everything we need right here on the farm." Though disappointed by her response, Kyo nodded in understanding. Perhaps someday they would have the chance to explore together. Altha caught his eye and winked, a small glimmer of hope in her gaze.
As they finished their meal, Kyo and Altha moved to the small kitchen area to wash the dishes. The kitchen was cluttered yet cozy, with shelves overflowing with pots, pans, and utensils. Beyond the kitchen, the interior of the igloo was a snug retreat from the harshness of the outside world. A small cupboard, crafted from Zandarius rare Bennam wood, stood in one corner, its doors closed tight to conceal its overflowing contents. Nearby, a plush couch with pillows offered a comfortable spot to relax after a long day's work. Opposite the couch, a large hammock hung from the ceiling. Above it, a smaller hammock swayed gently in the breeze, providing a cozy nest for Kyo during the night. Every inch of space was utilized to its fullest, creating a sense of warmth and intimacy within the cramped confines of the igloo. As the hour grew late, Altha reminded Kyo of their upcoming journey to Kihar. With a yawn, Kyo climbed into his hammock, gazing up at the stars through the little octagon windows above. "Goodnight, Kyo," Altha whispered, her voice soft in the quiet of the night. "Goodnight, Mumu," Kyo replied, his eyes closing as sleep overtook him. And with that, he drifted off, thoughts of tomorrow's journey fading into the comforting embrace of dreams.g embrace of dreams.
1.2 The Trip
Kyo awoke to the gentle light filtering through the little octagon windows of their igloo. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he glanced around and noticed that his mother's hammock was empty. "Mu-mu?" he called out, but there was no response. Curiosity piqued, Kyo peered outside and spotted his mother tending to the kikkamoos, their pig-like creatures with reptilian legs and fluffy tails. With a swift motion, he leaped out of bed, his movements practiced from years of experience. After quickly dressing himself, he hurried outside, calling out to his mother. "Altha!" he yelled, using her full name in his urgency. His mother turned towards him with a warm smile. "Kyky!" she called back, using his pet name. Kyo winced internally; he hated it when his mother called him that. But he put on a polite smile and suppressed his annoyance. Kyo wasted no time and dashed off to fetch Tsjoopa, their trusty mechanical unicycle cart already loaded with goods for trade. As he returned with the cart, he found his mother waiting back at the farm. "Ready to go, Kyo?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Absolutely!" Kyo exclaimed, brimming with energy. And so, they set off on their journey to Kihar, the nearest town for trading.
The road ahead seemed endless, traversing through vast and barren plains broken only by occasional patches of vegetation. Sparse woods flanked the roadside, offering concealment but little wildlife, a testament to Zandarius' unforgiving environment. They passed by an abandoned farm, its fields overgrown and buildings in disrepair." That's where the Rodson family used to live," Altha remarked, her voice tinged with sadness. "After the crop failures of the last two years, they had no choice but to move to the city." Kyo looked at the deserted homestead, feeling a pang of loss for the family who once lived there. "Do you think they'll come back someday?" "I hope so," Altha replied softly. "But it's hard to say. I heard Marget got sick after they moved. Times have been tough for them." Kyo felt a deeper sense of sorrow. "I hope she gets better soon."
After a few hours of travel, they finally reached a landmark known as the Sharp Knives, a crossroad marked by sharp rocks jutting out of the ground. "We’re here, the Sharp Knives," Altha remarked, her gaze sweeping over the rugged terrain. "We're halfway there, Kyo." Kyo nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Already? Time flies when you're in good company." A mischievous glint sparkled in Altha's eyes as she reached into the cart. "Speaking of good company, I brought something special for our halfway mark." Kyo's interest was piqued. "What is it?" With a dramatic flourish, Altha revealed a small container of sosuuka, a sweeter version of yesterday's porridge. "Sosuuka!" Kyo exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic despite his familiarity with the dish. Altha chuckled at his feigned excitement. "I thought it might be a nice treat for our journey." Kyo grinned, playing along. "Absolutely! Thanks, best mumu on Zandarius." Lost in thought, Altha gazed into the distance, her attention drawn to the gathering ominous clouds on the horizon, a harbinger of stormy weather to come. "We might have some rough weather ahead," Altha remarked, her voice tinged with concern. Kyo glanced up at the darkening sky. "Should we stop and wait it out?" Altha shook her head. "We need to keep moving. We can't afford to delay our journey." "Guess we'll have to save the view for another time," Kyo sighed, reluctantly agreeing with Altha's decision while she nodded in understanding. "But, after all," Kyo declared, puffing out his chest with a hint of pride, "at ten years old, I'm practically a grown man! I can handle anything, even eating sosuuka on the way without spilling a drop." Altha burst into laughter at his boast. "Sosuuka without spilling? I'd sooner believe kikkamoos could fly!" Kyo joined in her laughter, the sound echoing across the desolate landscape as they continued on their journey!
1.3 Arrival in Kihar
As Kyo and Altha approached Kihar, the plascrete town sprawled out before them, its streets winding like intricate mazes through the heart of the city. In stark contrast to the barren landscape of Zandarius, Kihar was a vibrant tapestry of life, with lush vegetation adorning every corner. Kyo’s eyes roamed over the cityscape, taking in the sight of the bustling alleys and the constant mist of smoke that hung in the air. Neon lights of various colors illuminated the streets, casting a surreal glow over the surroundings. Despite having visited many times before, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the bustling energy of the tradetown.
As they ventured deeper into the heart of the city, the tantalizing aroma of food mingled with the sounds of chatter and laughter, tempting Kyo's senses and reminding him of the porridge-filled days back on their farm. Finally, they reached the local market, a bustling hub of activity where traders hawked their wares amidst the thick scent of spices and exotic foods. "First stop, Old Taramor's," Altha announced, her voice carrying above the din of the market. Kyo's thoughts drifted to Taramor, the old, grumpy trader who had been a fixture in Kihar for as long as he could remember. Despite his rough exterior, Taramor was one of the few honest traders left in the city, and Kyo had always respected him for it. "Sounds good to me," Kyo replied, his tone positive.
As they approached Old Taramor’s, Altha hopped off the Tsjoopa and turned to Kyo. "Kyo, could you fetch a crate of Heyla bottles from the back of the cart?" she asked. Kyo nodded silently, already moving to comply.
Entering the shop, they found Taramor snoozing behind his counter, the cluttered shelves and dusty displays a testament to his lack of care for his surroundings. Altha hesitated, reluctant to disturb the old trader, but time was of the essence. "Taramor," she whispered, her voice barely audible. No response. Again, a bit louder this time, “Taramor”. Still no response. Growing impatient, Kyo couldn't help but raise his voice. "Taramor!" Startled awake, Taramor shot upright, his eyes wide with surprise. "What the hell's going on?" he grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Oh, it's just you two," he muttered, recognizing Altha and Kyo. Altha gestured to Kyo to take a look around while she spoke with Taramor. Kyo nodded and wandered through the cluttered shelves, his curiosity piqued by the assortment of strange and exotic items on display. In the background, a television played the news, and the volume turned low but still audible. A news reporter's voice cut through the air, reporting on the recent assassination of a high-ranking official. The military had already neutralized one suspect, but two others were still at large. The camera footage showed two figures cloaked in dark red and black, their faces obscured. Zooming in on one of the suspects, the reporter noted a tattoo of a three-headed monster on their neck, linking them to the notorious syndicate known as the Three-Headed Beast. "People are urged to remain vigilant," the reporter concluded, "and to report any sightings of the suspects to the authorities." "Kyo," Altha called out, pulling him from his thoughts. "Did you find anything useful?"Kyo shook his head, a bit dejected. "No, Mumu. Just a bunch of junk." As he answered, he accidentally dropped the strange, ancient coffeemaker he had been inspecting for the last minute, the clatter echoing through the cluttered store. Taramor's face soured at the comment and the noise. Though he knew it was true—he had stopped caring about the quality of his goods long ago—he still didn't appreciate hearing it aloud." Thank you for trying to give us the best prices, Taramor," Altha said diplomatically, nodding as she prepared to leave. "Goodbye."Kyo, already distracted by something else, quickly echoed, "Goodbye," before heading out the door. Taramor just grumbled in response, barely acknowledging their departure.
Outside, Kyo turned to his mother, concern etched on his face. "How did the trade go?" Altha hesitated before answering, her tone guarded. "It wasn't as successful as we had hoped, but we'll manage." Trying to sound confident, Kyo responded, "No need to worry, Mumu. We'll make it work." As they made their way back through the bustling market, Kyo glanced at his mother with an exaggerated look of pleading. "Can we get some Uja skewers now?" he asked, his voice dramatically hopeful. Altha smiled warmly, amused by his overacting. "Absolutely, Kyo. Let’s grab some delicious Uja," she said, turning on their trusty, albeit rusty, Tsjoopa.
1.4 No place like home
As Altha and Kyo made their way home in the fading light, a bird soared above them, its silhouette dark against the dusky sky. They were nearing their farmstead, the exhausting trip almost at an end. Kyo turned to Altha, his curiosity piqued. “What is coffee?” he asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. Altha pondered for a moment before responding, “I’ve heard of it. It’s some sort of black drink. Similar to Puggatree juice, they say it gives you energy.” Kyo wrinkled his nose in distaste. He had never been fond of Puggatree juice, finding its thick texture and slimy consistency unappealing. With a shake of his head, he decided he didn’t want to try coffee after all.
As they chatted, unaware of the figure watching them from afar, the landscape growing darker with each passing moment, they finally arrived at the farm. Altha unloaded the traded goods from the Tsjoopa, and with a nod to Kyo, she motioned for him to stow it away in the barn. Kyo complied, placing the Tsjoopa in the barn, where sturdy plascrete walls and reinforced wooden beams protected it from the harsh winds. With the task done, he made his way back to the igloo. As he approached, he noticed that the interior was unusually dark, the comforting glow of the moonlamp absent. With a sense of unease gnawing at him, he entered cautiously.
To his horror, he found himself face to face with a cloaked figure in dark black and red, his alien eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. Before he could react, he spotted his mother on the floor, tears streaming down her face, with another figure standing over her, a scarred human face, and a sinister three-headed beast tattoo on his neck. “Mumu!” Kyo screamed in terror. The figure with glowing eyes uttered incomprehensible words, while the scarred man cursed, "We can't leave any witnesses, Deskva.” Altha whispered urgently, "Kyo, stay calm. Everything will be fine." Kyo looked at his mother in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest. "What's going to happen?" his voice trembled with fear. The scarred human scoffed, turning his gaze towards Deskva. "We can sell the boy on the black market, but the woman? She's too old to bother selling. Not worth the hassle, Des," he remarked, his voice dripping with contempt. Deskva, with his strange eyes, glanced at the scarred man briefly before turning his attention to the boy, his expression unreadable. With brute force, Deskva's four arms, each adorned with strange, pulsating veins, grabbed Kyo, their unnaturally cold touch sending shivers down his spine. "Please, let me go!" Kyo pleaded, desperately trying to wriggle free with all his might, but Deskva's grip was unyielding. As Kyo cast a desperate glance at his mother, tears welling in his eyes, the scarred man turned his attention to Altha, deeming her of no value. Altha, her voice trembling but resolute, repeated her earlier words, "Everything will be fine," just before the scarred man drew his pistol, aimed, and fired, the shot piercing through Altha’s skull with a sickening thud echoing through the silent igloo. Kyo’s world shattered as he watched his mother fall, tears blurring his vision, bile rising in his throat. Before he could comprehend what was happening, a brutal blow to his head sent him spiraling into darkness.

Thank you for this universe!
And many thanks to for being a full co-writer on this project!
Kaeden and Vichee belongs to and I thank them so much for working with us! It was an honor!
Sven belongs to Bjorn the Copper Paladin from Discord. I hope to do more with them in the future, and have tons of fun!
And don’t you worry about that final in the title! We have some news at the end!
[First]- [Prev]- {Next Story!!}

{Is the reason that everything happened to Tarlim in the first place?}

{Only up to the ramps, mostly. Trying to impress upon people the importance of accessibility for those with extenuating circumstances. At least according to the records I have access to.}

{The average person knows as much about his friends as they do about Mike Collins.}
<...Who?>
{Exactly. 20th century human spaceman, was there for their first lunar landing. Didn’t get to put boots on the ground, and nobody remembers his name now.}

{Hell, I didn’t even know about him until I put in a search query of niche historical figures just to give you an example. Yeesh…}

(Program Selected.)
(Resume Selected Media? [Y])
(Playing…)
Archived Closed Circuit Security Video - Establishment: Exterminator’s Office - Dawn Creek Division - Subbasement - Date Recorded (ST): OCT 31, 2136 - Timeframe (ST): 11:42 - 11:45
The parking bay is silent. Vans are parked neatly in their spots which frame the hallway to the armory and fuel storage for the camera. A ding is heard and something moves in the hallway. Five fully suited Venlil and a Zurulian step out of an elevator and run towards a van. The sound of a door slamming open comes from the hall roughly 6 seconds later. A stream of Exterminators pour out into the hall from the stairwell.
Their voices are indecipherable as they speak over each other. A Sulian runs into the armory and reappears with a huge flamer tank on their back. Another Zurulian can be seen with an extinguisher tank, but a Venlil bleats at them and tosses it aside. They drag the quadrupedal alien quickly into the parking garage before physically throwing them into the back of a van.
From the back of the hallway, a fluid can be seen spreading across the ground. A trio of Venlil back out of a room while holding their flamers up. They are unlit, instead spewing fuel out of their nozzles. The trio twirl around in an overly animated manner as they walk down the hall to the parking garage. A van pulls out of its spot with windows down so the passengers could let out a cheer.
A black-suited Venlil runs up to the spraying trio while waving their arms to get them out into the garage. The microphone just barely manages to catch him saying, “We need to save some for the predators!” One of the other Venlil replies, “Yes sir, Mafchi!” A short flurry of curses is heard as the gathered exterminators pile into the three other visible vans. Two of the vans speed out of the garage, forcing some other Venlil exterminators to dive out of the way in the process.
The black-suited Mafchi picks up a fuel canister that had been dropped and twists off its cap. He slings it under his shoulder and pours a line of fuel. He marches straight to the final van and hops up into the open rear. The van backs itself up to turn out of the garage. The fuel canister clatters to the ground as it pulls away. Before it clears the view of the camera, the Black-suited Venlil is seen standing in its open back. He is holding what appears to be a flare gun.
The flare sails through the air shortly after the van leaves the frame and impacts the ground. It bounces and rolls until it touches the fuel and ignites it in an instant. A small wall of fire proceeds down the provided trail into the hallway, igniting more fuel as time passes. The hallway is quickly engulfed in vividly red fire. Thick black smoke begins to pour out into the garage as the fire inches closer to the primary fuel tank.
Movement can be seen in the hallway between the flickering flames. The silver form of a Venlil Exterminator is seen rushing out of the stairwell and fighting to head towards the fuel storage room. Before they reach, a white flash fills the screen. The feed goes dead, the error code consistent with electrical interruption.
(Specified Media Concluded.)

{Who was what? Mafchi?}

{Hmmm, there aren’t any tags embedded for them. The suits do a rather good job at making the officers anonymous. Let me see…oh.}

{The, uh… the employment records for that Office were…terminated.}

{It looks like…yes, here. Record wipe in 2497. Media with less than 1 bistandannual visit were removed to save space on the university’s central server. It’s…they’re gone, gone gone.}

{Maybe, but that’ll do us no good if we don’t know their name. And because of the chaos of that incident, nobody has been able to accurately reconstruct where every individual was in that office. We’d have to already know who they were to find them.}
<...I guess that’s another person I’ll have to remember then, huh?>
{...Guess so. Speaking of remembering, perhaps you should check out Tarlim’s view again? Seeing how we were just talking about him.}
<...Sure. At least people remember his name, right?>
(Command: [exitprogram])
(Are you sure? [Y])
…
{-Program Selected-}
{-Restart From Last Playback Point? Y/(N)-}
{-[USERID-11229KMD]: procViewHist -}
{-Retrieving Transcription Viewing History…-}
{-List Retrieved - Select Desired Subject: (Tarlim)-}
{-Restart From Last Playback Point? (Y)/N-}
{-Playing…-}
Memory Transcription Subject: Tarlim, the Venbig. Date [Standardized Human Time] October 31st, 2136
No matter how much Sven and Anso griped about it, having them leave and return with the trailer was a great idea. The humans who had gone with them the first time were, to my dismay, excited to try and ride in the back. I had at least been able to impress on those four that I couldn’t let anyone else ride like that, and that they were to help with rigging a trailer with some seats.
I had to admit; they did a good job!
Several couches sat bolted to the floor of the covered trailer and even had some ropes that could be hooked across the armrests as impromptu belts. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it would work as well as any bus or short train ride! Certainly superior to jumping in the bed of a truck.
I strode out into the parking road and swayed my ears to greet Anso. Sven had stayed behind here to meet with the humans and entertain the kids, a job which he was slightly less unenthusiastic about compared to last time. “Greetings, Anso! Have you made the necessary preparations for the humans to leave with you?”
The Yotul hopped out of the truck bed and bounced to me. “We have! I have to say those humans were great workers to have helped get this whipped up so quickly! I hope Sven has been behaving himself?”
I let my tail wag behind me remembering my last glimpse of him. He should really secure his sheath straps! “He has! Been entertaining the refugees while I made sure they all had their belongings ready to go. Come on inside, let’s go gather them.”
I guided him with a wave of my arm as we turned back to the door. To be truthful, I hadn’t expected Sven to win the humans over as quickly as he did. Needless to say, his primitive attire seemed to spark joy within them, a joy sorely needed amidst the sadness of recency.
As we entered the building I noticed something, or rather, the lack of something. When I had exited only a few [minutes] prior, the building had been full of life and noise. Now, it was almost dead quiet, save for the sounds of a holovision coming from the lobby. Rather heated sounds, at that.
“I didn’t think it was already main rest claw,” Anso mused as he, too, recognized the aggravated voices coming from the lobby. “And what are they watching in there? Sounds…angry.”
“Yeah…” I trailed off as I followed the noises. As I approached the lobby, the sound of what I assumed was a Gojid yelling. “You know nothing about my family. TALK, JUST FUCKING TALK, NOW!” My ears pinned back at the foul language at play, hoping that Sven and the children were somewhere else.
As I entered the room, I saw that I was only half right. The children were thankfully nowhere to be found, but Sven was obviously present, as was most of the facility staff. I was about to ask what was going on before another voice drew my attention to the holovision, the same as everyone else. The voice of none other than Chief Nikonus.
“There were three of us who laid out the groundwork for the Federation. When Kolshian explorers came in contact with the Farsul, more than a thousand years ago, the galaxy was young. We were the first in this sector to escape our gravity well. You know about the founding of this institution, but I reiterate it just in case.”
“The Krakotl were the third,” another voice piped up from behind the camera. I thought it might’ve been another Gojid, but the voice was far too breathy. Harchen, maybe? I wasn’t given a chance to consider it further as Nikonus continued. “Yes, they were a problem from the start; aggressive, disagreeable. We tried to identify the problem, and why they were so ill-equipped for spacefaring.”
“We learned they were scavengers, who would occasionally go for fish as well.”
His next line was rendered inaudible by the shocked gasps of both the refugees and residents in the room. I was no different, drawing in a sharp breath at the abrupt admission. I remembered that Arvi had said some aliens were revealed to have eaten meat in the past, but was this the way it was decided to be revealed? With such abject callousness?
Nikonus continued to speak, looking not just proud, but smug with his words. He went on about how the Federation had saved these aliens with their manipulations, but the entirety of his body language seemed to indicate he reveled in how devastating this information would be to the people he was speaking to. How they manipulated an entire culture, a RELIGION!
What if they did the same to ours?
That horrifying thought struck through my mind like a derailing train. I had relied upon the Tenets in some of my darkest moments. Found comfort in them when there was none elsewhere to be found. To have such a comfort revealed as a lie in its entirety, used only for some other group to control you…
The voice of Nikonus hit my ears again. “Oh Sovlin, I already told you. For the small minority of species who don’t find herbivory alone, we teach them the right way. Doesn’t the religion against predators sound familiar?”
The Kolshian was insufferably proud of those words. There was no doubt in my mind now; this was mocking. Mocking a Gojid for following The Protector. For being a predator. For being different, but expecting to still be treated as a person. The Gojid were predators, they couldn’t help it, and they were already being mocked for it.
What might happen to all the other species?
I shifted my focus away from the screen to the crowd, searching for one in particular. Vichee, a Krakotl already so different from everyone else, and now my concerns for them were multiplied with every word that fell from Nikonus’ mouth. Were they okay? They had come in here to see Sven, I had seen them. Where are-
I spotted Kaeden in the corner of the room. Next to him, slumped against the wall, was Vichee. The dual colored Krakotl’s eyes were glazed over as they stared at nothing. I strode over quickly, my instincts wanting to comfort them. Kaeden was simply standing there, it was confusing that he didn’t seem to be comforting Vichee at all. As I got closer, their head tilted up to me, regarding me with an unfocused eye.
“He was right.” They said quietly. My implant almost didn’t pick it up over the sounds of the lobby. “Kaeden had asked me soon after our first meeting if Krakotl had once been meat eaters. Said it was the shape of our beaks. ‘More suited to capturing small wriggling prey than filtering algae’. He told me. I nearly flew away right then… If I had, I would have been alone with this news.”I listened, kneeling down to be closer to their level. “You’re not alone, your herd is here. Right Kaeden?”
He looked over at me and nodded. “Vichee was there with me when Earth was attacked. I’m here for them now. Kaabra and Venik are… together, elsewhere at the moment. But they will be here too.”
I flicked my ears in understanding. “Then I hope they may help in hugging Vichee until their tears are dry.” I turned an eye to Vichee. “Please, I just want you to know that you are still you. What your body does has no effect on your personhood.”
Vichee still sat, their mind still likely whirling with the new information. They lifted their differently colored wings. “I’m well aware. This lesson I already learned. But thank you, I understand what you mean.” Kaeden nodded slowly and Vichee returned to their thoughts.
“There’s going to be trouble soon, Tarlim,” Kaeden stated gravely. “News like this? Nothing good will come of it. I can already tell this won’t go over well. Keep your eyes open.”
As if in response to his words, the sound of clanking metal hits my ears. They shoot up, pivoting to locate its source. There, dashing towards the door, was the armored figure of Sven. I didn’t know him enough to know how this broadcast would affect him, but running was never the best sign. I flicked my ears goodbye to my friends and rose, following after the metal man. In my periphery, I saw the television screen had shifted to show Rolem moving onto the stage. I would have to miss whatever it was he had to say, so ducked through the doors and continued to follow the sound of metal.
As I exited, I saw that I wasn’t the only one to see Sven’s actions. Anso was bounding behind him, shouting something I couldn’t hear. Sven didn’t seem to either as he kept running, but his gait wasn’t one of fear. He looked purposeful, sprinting in a straight line. A line pointed right towards-
Towards the observing Exterminator Van.
The metal Venlil didn’t even hesitate at the presence of the fence. He leapt up in a display of strength and agility, vaulting over the barrier and continuing his beeline into the van. It was like phased through the doors with how fast he moved. There were sounds of commotion that followed his entry, and soon two Exterminators fell out of the van. One Venlil…and one Krakotl. I wonder how Kalek is taking things.
I, too, cleared the fence with only a high step and reached the van, peering in to see Sven at the controls. “Sven! What are you doing?” I asked, the Krakotl officer shivering on the ground in my periphery.
“They got my girl!” He huffed, “She’s a Gojid, they got her, I can’t let them do anything worse to her!” He tried to activate the vehicle to no avail, but his words brought up something that I hadn’t thought much over. I remember hearing about temporary emplacements that were being set up. Paly had texted me about exterminators bringing people there. Her too. And that would mean-
-THOOOOOOOMMMMM-
The wind hit me like a truck and rocked the van I was standing next to. Sven even stopped trying to fiddle with the controls to see what had just happened. In the distance, near the center of town, an enormous black cloud rose into the air, the vestiges of fire still burning in the suspended embers. I couldn’t look away from it as my mind raced with horrible possibilities as my mind tripped over itself trying to concoct a plan of action.
I wasn’t given long to think before the radio in the van crackled to life, startling both Sven and myself. “Attention all True Exterminators! The truth has come out about the taint in our midst! For too long we have lived with its danger in our presence! If any of you still hold the safety of The Herd in your hearts, come join us so we may burn ALL the predator taint from this District! Rendezvous at Vulen’s apartment complex, we shall start our cleansing there!”
The name of one of my landlords sparked familiarity in my mind. They had been working to build a series of new apartments to add to his old, and if I remembered, had agreed to house the Gojid refugees. The Gojid! Paly was housed with them!!
In an instant, I reached into the van and grabbed Sven by the arm. He tried to pull away, but my grip was too strong. “Sven! They’re gonna kill the Gojid! They’re gonna burn Paly!”
He finally managed to shake himself free as my paws became jittery from stress. “I gotta save my girlfriend! She’s in a facility! I gotta save her!”
“But they’re gonna burn people here!” I protested, “we have to do something! We need- We need People who can fight them! Kaeden! I need to get Kaeden! We can save them!”
I pulled myself away from the van and spotted Anso nearby. He must have had to go through the gate, but this was good timing. I pointed a claw at him. “Do Not Let Him drive off before I get back!”
I didn’t give him, nor the Exterminators who had recovered from their shock, time to ask questions. Paly was in danger, as were who knew how many others. I faintly heard my data pad chime from within my shoulder bag, the signal my heart was beating too fast, but I couldn’t deal with it right now. I could get the heart rate under control during the drive. Right now I needed Kaeden, he knew how to fight! How to save people when others were trying to kill them!
My paws guided me and I was back in the cafeteria before I knew it. Some of the crowd had dissipated, but Kaeden and Vichee were still in the same corner I had left them in, but with their Venlil friends now joined. Without leaving time for protest, I grabbed Kaeden’s arm and pulled him away. I heard Vichee squawk behind me, but I was in too much of a hurry. I can’t let her get hurt. I Won’t.
Kaeden started to slap my arm as I dragged the soldier across the lobby. “Tarlim! What the fuck are you doing?? What’s going on?”
“No time, they’re going to burn everyone,” I breathlessly said as I burst the facility doors open to get him to the van.
“What? Who?” Kaeden questioned, still resisting my pull. I could hear a tinge of worry in his voice, and I knew he would understand. Anso looked back from his position as he heard my approach, and upon seeing me dragging Kaeden along, he grew visibly concerned.
“On the radio, something about True Exterminators,” I attempted to explain to him as we neared the gate doors. This time, I simply spread them apart with my free paw, metal screeching against itself as the gate was forced open. “They’re going to burn every cured species they can find, and That Means Paly. I Won’t Let Them.”
Kaeden had stopped struggling as I explained the bare essentials to him, and once we approached the van, he finally had enough sense to ask the right questions. “So what exactly is the plan to stop them? We’re strong, sure, I could probably take most of them. But just two of us against a wall of those flamers?”
“Not two,” I corrected, letting go of his arm and throwing open the back doors of the van. Still seated in the drivers side was Sven, who looked back once he heard me permit entrance into the back. “We have him too.”
“Wh- the LARPer??” Kaeden asked incredulously. I wasn’t familiar with the term he used, but his tone told us all we needed to know. Sven’s eyes narrowed at the perceived insult, but Kaeden continued. “Do either of you have any formal military training?? Rushing down there is only going to get you both killed along with the others! For fucks sake, slow down! We need a plan!”
“T-There won’t be t-time f-for one,” a voice peeped in from behind us. We all turned to face the source, and we found it was the Venlil Exterminator. They recoiled under the sudden gaze of our entire party, but they managed to continue. “I-I recognized the v-voice. It w-was one of the n-new recruits. They m-might as well be Y-Yulpa. If you w-want to stop them, it’s now or n-never.”
We all stared at them for a moment in disbelief that they’d willingly hand over that information to us. They were Exterminators, weren’t they? They should be allied with the voice on the radio! Kaeden, after considering the information, gave voice to my confusion. “And why are you telling us this? You’re an exterminator, shouldn’t you be trying to help them?”
“M-My husband is the Krakotl that was in the van with me!” They yelled back, stamping their footpaw on the ground in agitation. “I-I don’t care what his ancestors did a t-thousand years ago, I will not stand for those zealots burning who knows how many people! We’re not all the same, h-human!”
I was taken aback by their words. I had given up hope that there were any redeemable souls amongst the ranks of those silver-suited brahkasses, but living proof of the contrary stood before us. Their breathing was only matched by mine as my pad continued to chime in my pack. Maybe there’s hope after all.
Kaeden started frantically looking all around, his focused gaze falling on the facility, the exterminator in front of us, and the rising smoke in the distance. After a moment's hesitation, he growled to himself and shook his head. “Fine! Fucking- if you want to prove you’re different, you and your partner stand guard at the gate! They’ll probably try to send a division here, so keep on guard! And for the love of God, go ask for help if that happens!”
My tail wagged behind me as I interpreted what that meant. “So you’ll help us, Kaeden?”
He paused for a second, an agonizing second as he fully took in the situation in his mind. But ultimately, he nodded. “Let’s go, we can figure things out along the way.”
Seizing the moment, Anso quickly jumped into the van and pushed Sven out of the driver's seat, much to their visible frustration. Kaeden quickly hopped into the passenger seat, leaving me with the problem of finding a space that would fit me. I stepped over to the back of the van and threw the doors open.
The flamers and their fuel tanks were useless to us, easy to toss all three sets out onto the ground behind me. I made sure that the flamers were disabled first, of course. Just had to snap the pilot lighters and slice a hose with my claw. Even if these two said they weren’t like these “True Exterminators” I didn’t trust them one bit. I crawled inside the cramped vehicle and wiggled myself to close the doors behind me.
As I got myself settled, I watched as the Venlil Exterminator started to inspect the destroyed remains of their weapons. I squinted a glare at them and positioned myself so they couldn’t enter with me. “You two aren’t coming,” I hissed. “You know why you’re not. Try anything with the humans, and they will stop you.”
I slammed the doors shut as their expressions fell, just in time for Anso to get the van into gear. I curled myself up against the wall of the van, watching out the back window as we sped down the road. We were on our way now. On our way to save Paly and all the people gathered because their ancestors ate meat. My heart hammered in my chest, but I would need to control it for what we were about to do. I needed to focus. I needed to breathe. I needed to be calm.
Focus. Breathe. Calm
Focus.
Breathe.
Calm…
{-ALERT: Automatic Annotation Detected - Switching Transcription Subject-}
{-Loading…Playback Ready-}
{-Playing…-}
Memory Transcription Subject: Sol-Vah, Fleeing Predator. Date [Standardized Human Time] October 31st, 2136
My legs couldn’t carry me anymore. I had to keep going, but I didn’t have the strength. My pants became wheezes as my body struggled to keep up with the physical exertion of running almost halfway through town. I hadn’t even looked up before now, at least with eyes not blinded by tears. The pain of Mute’s rejection still stung in my soul, a pain so visceral it threatened to rip me apart worse than any Arxur. Protector, what did I do to deserve this? Is there even a Protector, or did the Federation just- just make that up?
I didn’t have time to think about that now, I needed to get to the office. From what little I caught of the broadcast, Nikonus had said they saved us before. I knew what it likely was, but…I was desperate. I just wanted to go back home and have him embrace me like he did before. The safety and love I had felt from him was still fresh in my mind, and if there was any chance I had to get it back?
I’ll happily take it.
As I approached the office, however, something seemed off. I could smell soot in the air, but not the kind of soot that came from our flamers. This was- was…dirtier smelling, as if the fuel had been impure. Upon looking up, however, I saw something that made my stomach drop. A huge plume of smoke, billowing up into the sky. It shadowed the sun itself with its immensity and hate. Did the Exterminators burn more drugs? Or…or…
I felt a renewed vigor as I started to run towards the plume, hoping against hope that I was wrong. As soon as I turned the corner, though, my worst fears were realized. Where the office once stood now sat a burning stack of glorified rubble, every single window in sight shattered and multiple holes in the outer walls. The building was split, it was as if a giant knife had come down and sloppily sliced off its front half to spill flaming debris everywhere.
I stood in front of the building I had once called my home, surrounded by screams and the awful sound of flames roaring. I knew now there was no hope of salvation, no way this could ever be undone. I would never be able to go back to the way things were, never feel the happiness I had for that brief time. I was doomed to this life, abandoned by my love, and forced to live as an abomination devoid of a home.
I suppose that’s all a predator like me deserves.
[First]- [Prev]- {Next Story!!}
You read it right: This is going to be the final chapter of "Of Giants and Journalists." With the conclusion of Sharnet and Vekna's adventure, we will now take the time to show how this announcement has affected our characters and the galaxy at large. We're excited to announce our new series, Nature of a Giant: Aftermath! This series will not be quite as in-depth temporally as Of Giants and Journalists was, mainly because not as much will be happening in as short of a time. Rest assured, though, there will still be plenty of action across the board! You just won't have to deal with over half the story only covering a week of time!
In that vein, we are also excited to announce we are working on another bonus series, one that was teased a long time ago, Venric Lawven: Legal Legend! It will be filling the gap for content while we work on the first few chapters of Aftermath to make sure the scenes are as quality as they deserve, but will have a reduced upload schedule to once a week to accommodate for writing two series at once. On behalf of both of myself and , we'd like to thank all of our readers for sticking with us on this journey. It's hard to believe this series has been going on for over a year in one form or another, but I wouldn't have it any other way! Thank you all again for your continued support, and we look forward to seeing you again with Legal Legends! And then...
The Aftermath!!

~Emergency location transmitter market~ is anticipated to grow at a CAGR of 5.9% during the forecast period (2024-2031). The market’s growth is attributed to the growing demand for advancements in technology across the globe. Technological developments, such as improved battery solutions, such as the alkaline-based solution featured in the ARTEX ELT 4000M, help to improve ELT reliability and effectiveness. For instance, in May 2023, ACR Electronics introduced the ARTEX ELT 4000M, the latest transport-grade 406 MHz approved Emergency Locator Transmitter (ELT). The revolutionary ELT has 243 and 121.5 MHz homing frequencies and is powered by a patented alkaline-based solution, that eliminates it from FAA non-rechargeable lithium battery exceptions.
Get Free Sample link @ https://www.omrglobal.com/request-sample/emergency-location-transmitter-market
The global emergency location transmitter market is further segmented based on geography including North America (the US, and Canada), Europe (UK, Italy, Spain, Germany, France, and the Rest of Europe), Asia-Pacific (India, China, Japan, South Korea, and Rest of Asia), and the Rest of the World (the Middle East & Africa, and Latin America). Among these, European region is anticipated to hold a prominent share of the market across the globe, owing to rise in aviation security parameters has been proposed by specific developing region.
full report of Emergency Location Transmitter Market available @ https://www.omrglobal.com/industry-reports/emergency-location-transmitter-market
· Market Coverage
· Market number available for – 2024-2031
· Base year- 2023
· Forecast period- 2024-2031
· Segment Covered- By Source, By Product Type, By Applications
· Competitive Landscape- Archer Daniels Midland Co., Ingredion Inc., Kerry Group Plc, Cargill
· Inc., and others
Market Segmentation
Global Emergency Location Transmitter Market by Type
o Personal Locator Beacons
o Emergency Position-Indicating Radio Beacons
o Emergency Locator Transmitters
Global Emergency Location Transmitter Market by Technology
o Digital
o Analog
Global Emergency Location Transmitter Market by Service
o Maintenance Services
o Installation and Design
o Inspection and Management Services
o Engineering Services
o Others (Data Analytics Services, and Logistical Support Services)
Global Emergency Location Transmitter Market by Industry Vertical
o Civil Aviation
o Military Aviation
o Merchant Navy
o Navy (Defense Marine)
o Others (Search and Rescue Organizations, and Government & Public Safety Agencies)
Regional Analysis
o North America
o United States
o Canada
o Europe
o UK
o Germany
o Italy
o Spain
o France
o Rest of Europe
o Asia-Pacific
o China
o India
o Japan
o South Korea
o Rest of Asia-Pacific
o Rest of the World
Company Profiles
o Astronics
o Cobham
o DSS Aviation
o DSS Protection
o Dukane Seacom
o ECA Group
o ELLIOTT AVIATION INC.
o Emergency Beacon Corp.
o HOCHIKI Corp.
o Honeywell International Inc.
o HR Smith Group of Co.
o McMurdo Group
o Pointer Avionics Ltd.
o Safran
The Report Covers

• Market value data analysis of 2023 and forecast to 2031.
• Annualized market revenues ($ million) for each market segment.
• Country-wise analysis of major geographical regions.
• Key companies operating in the global emergency location transmitter market. Based on the availability of data, information related to new product launches, and relevant news is also available in the report.
• Analysis of business strategies by identifying the key market segments positioned for strong growth in the future.
• Analysis of market-entry and market expansion strategies. Competitive strategies by identifying ‘who-stands-where’ in the market.

For More Customized Data, Request for Report Customization @ https://www.omrglobal.com/report-customization/emergency-location-transmitter-market
About Orion Market Research Orion Market Research (OMR) is a market research and consulting company known for its crisp and concise reports. The company is equipped with an experienced team of analysts and consultants. OMR offers quality syndicated research reports, customized research reports, consulting and other research-based services. The company also offer Digital Marketing services through its subsidiary OMR Digital and Software development and Consulting Services through another subsidiary Encanto Technologies.
Media Contact:
Company Name: Orion Market Research
Contact Person: Mr. Anurag Tiwari
Email: [info@omrglobal.com](mailto:info@omrglobal.com)
Contact no: +91 780-304-0404

Hello there, this is a sub-fiction of “In the name of humanity”, if you don’t know what that is, it is fine, I am still working on the first book, so consider this a teaser.
I am happy to receive feedback of any kind, so feel free to give me suggestions… or if you really need to, you can rant at me about how horrible this is, I won’t be offended.
Well, enjoy!
Chapter one, the hunters.

POV High Capt Alexander M Johnson. Date, 6/7/2146.
I entered into the briefing room, seeing that the holograms for all the captains were there, I addressed them,
“Roughly thirty minutes ago, a Xeno fleet was detected, we have determined that it will arrive in roughly forty-nine hours. you will get your ships to maximum combat preparedness that is practical at that time, understood?”
the captain of the Fire of Terra asked, “Do we have an estimate of their ships?” I responded, “The shatterspace sensors have gotten an estimate, only one has the potential of being a capital, forty-seven ships total.” He nodded. there were no more questions, everyone left and went to their business.
I rushed out of the room. Rushing to the primary ladder and ascended two levels to the bridge deck.
When I entered the bridge I gave the order to the intercoms officer, “Tell the engineer crew to do a partial overhaul to as many weapons as possible, tell them to prioritize PD systems, and not to do anything that they are not certain they can get done in thirty hours. Understood?”
He gave a quick nod and responded, “Yes Sir! I’ll relay that right away.”
I switched to the weapons officer, “Have your crews double check the missile’s safeties are disarmed, and that they are fully fueled. Understood?” He confirmed. Then I switched to the IT officer, “Have your crew and the cybersecurity AI check the algorithms of all systems, make sure they are as efficient as possible and have no malware. Understood.”
After going through the same ritual with the sensor and comms officers.
I ordered the alert status to be switched to blue. Then I ascended another level to the officer deck, where I entered my room and inspected my IVA suit and determined that there were no leaks. Then grabbed a ration bar from my locker and headed back to the bridge to continue my Admin duties.
…
I saw the alert status indicator lights switch from orange to red. Show time.
Beings as I was on the way to the bridge I only had to climb one more deck.
I asked the XO, “What is the ETA of our ‘friends’ I have made the last preparations for the party.”
She chuckled then said, “Our friends are fifteen minutes out, I noted that the yields of the bomb pumped X-ray LASERS were just switched to max.” I gave her a wolfish smile, “Only the best for our friends!”
Fifteen minutes later the first escort ships exited shatterspace, and were promptly destroyed…
Everything is going to plan, and I don’t even have to micromanage.
I felt the ship turn so that she was broadside on to the exit point.
Just then I saw the ship we suspected was a capital appear on the hologram showing relative positions, it was only a fat juicy bulk goods freighter, it was too slow to avoid the three X-ray LASERs that lanced toward it. Five minutes after the battle started, every enemy ship was space debris, our ships were barely scratched, the element of surprise does do that.
…
Sadly we couldn’t hang out here any more, the last engagement combined with two smaller previous engagements ran our X-ray LASER missiles almost dry.
So we started back to Sirius shipyards. The aforementioned shipyards were orbiting the only planet in the Sirius system, A rocky planet three times the size of earth. It also had a moon the size of phobos that provided the raw materials used by the shipyard,
Overall the Sirius system only had a shipyard due to it being the only star system other than Sol on a small shatterspace corridor, making it faster to get to Sirius from earth than the alpha centauri system is, and from Sirius to the closest corridor used by the Altrax is a week’s travel.
Making Sirius a perfect staging base.
Although there was a corridor used by the Altrax that took less time to get to from Earth, it was used heavily by the military, and to be quite frank, we only have around ten thousand ships, thus, we would be curb-stomped in a head on war with the Altrax. Also, they think we were wiped out or subjugated by someone else, and high command sees no reason to remove the blinders from them, using earth as a staging base would do just that.
My personal opinion was that we needed to build more ships, but of course high command has to deal with pencil pushers saying that we “Needed to be reasonable with how much we ask.”
If I had my way, those pencil pushers would be put in prison for gross negligence, or executed for treason… There are aliens that have been proven hostile, is that not enough reasons for more money to be put into ships?!? The ship doctor is always asking me why I have high blood pressure, this is why.
I climbed up to the galley, it was situated at the very front of the ship due to it being considered the least important section, another example of stupid civilians, put the armory up there, it will be empty in battle anyways… But the galley, some would argue that it is the most important section. If you don’t have a galley, morale drops, if morale drops people are less efficient, and if they are less efficient, systems start failing… if systems start failing, bad things happen.
Chicken teriyaki and rice was on the menu for this crew’s dinner. with cream of wheat and bacon being prepared for the next crew’s breakfast. somehow, the mixture of smells was wonderful. I grabbed a tray and went to an officer's table.
The tables of the officers and standard crew were segregated, with a thin fabric screen in between the two areas. An officer can go into the crew’s area but it was socially unacceptable, an officer shouldn’t be listening to the crew’s gossip. The crew on the other hand can go into the officer’s area, but you couldn’t exactly gossip with an officer like you can with a fellow crewman, so the crew basically stayed to themselves at mealtimes.
When I was midway through the meal the next crew’s sensor officer came and saluted before sitting down, “How are you doing captain?” I got up and returned his salute before sitting back down, “Good, annoyed that we have the return to base, happy that no one was lost in the battle.”
He nodded, “I agree, I would rather get closer to the end of the war than have downtime, like yes downtime here and there is good, but ninety percent of your time is downtime… that’s too much. Agreed?” I nodded, “Yes, but the ships need a thorough inspection and repair after these last six months.” He nodded, we finished our meals in silence and parted ways.
I climbed down to the officers deck and turned in for the night.
…
I watched the tactical display as our wolfpack decelerated to dock with the station, there were two other wolfpacks docked at the port, both looked like they were almost done with overhaul.
The Nav officer surrendered control of maneuvering and engines to the station at fifty thousand kilometers.
Semper taedium was the ship’s motto for the next five hours as we headed in to dock.
But fifteen minutes before docking the ship turned into a hive of activity as preparations were made for docking, every centimeter of the ship was double checked for loose items, which were then put in safe spots so they didn’t become projectiles when the ship jolted as it docked.
Finally the jolt signified that we had docked and we could enter the station while the station crews spent the next month replacing everything that had any possibility of breaking down, and by anything, I mean even that toaster in the galley that is taking a second too long to make toast, seriously, they do a test with it, and if it is too fast or slow, they replace it, and it gets put on a second rate ship. Sometimes I don’t get what is going on in the minds of engineers.
As I walked out the dock-master greeted me, “Ello. Looked at the engineers report, you guys took those ships through a ringer, two hundred lightyears, why?” I grimaced, “We were avoiding enemy patrols, they doubled up a month ago, the attacks must be hitting em where it hurts.”
He leaned towards me, “I heard that they have been having to rotate ships through their main docks due to the secondary ones not getting enough equipment, you guys must be destroying some major tonnage.” I nodded, “Roughly a megaton of cargo, our wolfpack alone.” he whistled, “Dang, that's a Jupiter class pretty much.” I nodded, “Yeah. Well, I’ll leave you to your work.”
We waved each other bye and departed.
…
It felt so good to be back on the ship, the last eight weeks were torture.
Although I felt a strange sadness seeing the station drift away on the display.
The station-master's voice crackled on intercom speakers, “God bless you in the hunt.”
I took command of the comms, “Thanks, we’ll make sure to come back to annoy you!”
I heard him groan, “Can I take that back?” I responded, “Nope you already wished us good luck, See you next time!
The ship jolted as it was electro magnetically accelerated to a fifty meters per second relative velocity to the station. Roughly a minute later the ship's engines kicked on. I checked the tactical display to see if the rest of the wolfpack was following suit, they did.
About a minute later, it felt like every atom in my body was slightly tugged in every direction, good a successful jump.
The micro jump took five seconds, we were at the expected location, six light minutes away.
All of the ships automatically changed vector so that they were heading towards the shatterspace corridor, the we jumped… now for the eight day wait as we head towards the corridor… Semper taedium, yay.
End of chapter.

Emphasis on “opinion,” “unpopular,” and “to me,” so drop your pitchforks please!
I guess this depends on what you prefer to read about since there’s such a diversity of POV characters. ASOIAF is the first fantasy series I’ve read as an adult and I didn’t expect to love it as much as I do. I usually go for character-driven stories about women struggling to self-actualize so it makes sense that I gravitate toward Sansa. I take more notes in my kindle for her chapters than any other character because her perspective is so layered with social expectations and her reliability as a narrator keeps me on my toes.
Meanwhile, I have a hard time getting invested in Jon’s storyline on the wall. I like his character development in his interactions with Samwell, Maester Aemon, and his reactions to his Uncle Benjen’s disappearance. Other than that, I find the day to day military drudgery and night’s watch squabbles as boring as some of you might find talk of silk dresses and lemon cakes. Maybe this will change as Jon gains power on the wall and his character is tested, but he is certainly the POV I connect to the least.
Side note: If anyone knows of fan communities for mostly women and/or queer people to discuss the more girlypop aspects of ASOIAF I’d love to know about them!

-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-
Romuna Administrative Orbital Headquarters, United Confederation Occupied Territories of Earth (QUAL-ZANV)
May 8, 1945
-------------------------------------------------------------
Commander Dunajski
- - - - - -
We were the watchful eyes over Earth. That was my job. The only thing second to that was the search for the missing pieces of my life.
As usual, however, that work was hard. After all, the past two years had been the same process. I get my human subordinates to find a list of names from anywhere: concentration camps, labour camps, ghettos, and all of those rotten places. Then, they'd hand me a report with the unimportant names blacked out and only the specific names I needed were left uncrossed. I had spent two years doing that process, every day on this station was spent doing that. Finding those two was the main goal of my life; It's what let me wake up every morning. The hope of a reunion.
But, until I got my hands on another report, I was keeping myself busy with monitoring my subordinates on the Romnua Space Headquarters as we orbited over Southern Africa. Something to help me take my mind off of everything was admiring our native Earth from my post. The golden deserts of Namibia and the green rainforests of the Congo dominated the view from the huge glass wall that separated us from the cold vacuum of space. Although I’ve been on this damn station for two years now, the sights never cease to get a gasp of amazement from me.
The Confederation used this station and 16 others to monitor and keep tabs on anything happening on Earth. We were the keen observers that protected Earth from any foreign incursion.
A bit ironic coming from the people who invaded us.
At least the Germans didn’t fill us with such lies.
The only reason why they chose me to run this joint human-Confederation sector was because I was an unwilling favourite of their high command. I was one of the best remaining generals in Poland. I served in the Great War and the Polish-Soviet War as a lowly troop, but I was a respected general by the time of the German invasion in 1939.
I defended my country for as long as I could. I resisted for a long time after our official surrender. When the Nazis got to me, they carted me off to a labour camp. Then I escaped and continued the fight on the British Isles, being airdropped and ferried out on multiple occasions. Once the Confederation arrived, my fight against the Nazis and their brutal occupation ended, but I was left without the sunshine of my life.
“Here’s the registered civilian report, sir,” a Lithuanian lieutenant saluted as he handed me a manila folder with a printed paper that had a list of names typed onto it. Even though Lithuania and Poland weren’t the greatest of chums before the war, occupation by the Soviet and Nazi barbarians created a sense of tragic camaraderie between our people.
“Did you file out the names?” I asked calmly, flipping open the folder. I kept my ears open for the response as I waded my hands across pages of paper with smooth flips.
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant replied as my eyes scanned the paper. The names were crossed out in black marker. I scanned it top-to-bottom and page after page. I began to lose hope even more, but then again, it’s not like there was much left of it anyway.
I had been searching for them for two long years. Two years of going against the rules of our hulky alien occupiers. I used their systems to find evidence and our tools to file them out into something comprehensible. I wouldn’t trust an “AI” to find the names I was looking for. The Germans kept well organised records of everything well-organised, so a good thorough search was probably the best thing I had. Still, however, it was an arduous process.
But, just as that thought appeared in my mind, it was my eyes that had fixed on the one name I had been anticipating for the last two years:
Katarzyna Kaminski. My love.
I must’ve jumped with joy. I’d done it! I found her! After what? Six long years of waiting and searching! Finally! First my wife, and then that would open the gate to finding my son too! After so long! I’d see them again! This day was something to be remembered forever!
“Oh, you did your job spectacularly!” I cheered to the lieutenant. However, his expression was more grim.
“Ne, pone,” he advised sombrely in Lithuanian, shaking his head. "The top of the page.”
I was so hooked in my search for any sign of my family that I forgot to even read the title of the page. Looking up, my eyes locked onto the print and read. In a moment, my hopes were stamped out and rage and suffering swallowed my heart like the deep blue ocean.
Registered List of All Prisoners Killed in Auschwitz Death Camp in the Year of Our Lord 1942
Everything went silent in an instant. I froze upright with my eyes glued to the paper. My ears began to ring like a shell had just hit nearby. My face bubbled red in embarrassment, rage, and most of all, misery. My legs felt just about ready to collapse inward and my hips were ready to explode outwards. My body pushed against itself, betraying my fundamental being as my eyes reread the name over and over, trying to make some worthless attempt to console my burning body of emission. None of it worked.
My Katarzyna. Gone. In one sentence. All my joy trampled in a second.
She died not even with a proper burial. She died leaving her son and not knowing if her fighting husband would even embrace her again. All of my searching, and the result was this. This.
It seems that the story of my search for my loved ones ended here. But upon reviewing the rest of the list in silence, I couldn’t find a single mention of a Jakub Dunajski. All my hope was gone to the extent that I held out no idea that Jakub survived the camps.
If his mother didn’t, then he didn’t either.
The final verdict of my search hit me like a train: I would never see my family again.
That depressing day I had to leave them in September of that fateful year was the last time I’d ever see my son and wife again. Our paths diverged with me toling in labour camps hoping to escape to find them once more. And while I was fighting onwards in England, they were shipped to Auschwitz to die. While I was toiling in captivity, they were being beaten and tortured daily. While the Confederation swept across Europe, they were gassed or gunned down in their cots.
After all this time, the thought that I had been suppressing for my entire search was now the dominant ruler of my brain. It was the fact that I had failed them.
I did not sob loudly, I did not scream. Nor did I stamp the floor or tear the page from the folder. I resisted them all. As I had for the past six years. The only response the Lithuanian got from me was a barely audible whimper and a tear.
The tear rolled from my eye down my shaved cheek, slowly dripping down and curving up to my chin in a swift motion. It hung there delicately as if it was absorbing all of my pain into it. Then, when the load became too much for it to bear, it fell. Quickly slipping off and dropping down before it slapped against the white page with a plop. A stain that looked like a crater in no man’s land now rested, ingrained into the paper that killed my hope.
The paper that essentially killed my wife.
Silence engulfed the room and ringing my ears as the words and black marker on the paper became no more than a blur, incomprehensible and unidentifiable. That’s what I wanted anyway, every glance at the page would just finalise the fact that it all was over. That I was alone.
“Legion-Commander Henix wants to see you,” an unforgiving feminine alien voice came from behind me. I jumped in response as my head flew back to meet the alien.
It was a Yetiayhu. And, as was apparently commonplace, they had the typical fangs and talons that all species other than us seemed to have, along with a giant tail that had a little ball of fur at the very end of it. Adding onto that, the Yetiayhu had large expansive cool-coloured frills that were interrupted by little blackish-blue dots here and there, like some Amazonian animal. Their bodies were slimmer than others but still pretty much buff tanks compared to me.
“For what purpose?” I replied with a brow raised in suspicion. My experience in the military and as a resistance head gave me a good tutorial on how to suppress the tears in one’s voice. After years upon years of endless trial and error, I had pretty much perfected it. But, in the case of my reddened eyes, I brought the brim of my military cap down to obscure my eyes.
“He didn’t tell me. Get moving,” the Yetiayhu hissed, her frills fluttering in annoyance.
I almost forgot that the aliens didn’t give a shit about any of our feelings. I’m sure showing too much emotion was an offence in the Confederation military. Could you imagine emotion being a punishable offence? What sort of dystopian fascist hellhole did that!?
Oh wait, I could think of one: Nazi Germany.
My eyes subtly fixed on the Yetiayhu with a bit of contempt that she came to me at my worst moment. I just found out that my wife was unceremoniously killed in a death camp, and she was just acting as pouty as a kid. Granted, she didn’t know of my suffering, but that attitude is deserving of a wrist-slap back on my world.
Too bad for me, the world I’m referring to was no longer even ours anymore.
“You better show some respect,” I huffed, containing my emotions in a little capsule of misery.
“Last time I checked, you were still a transpec,” she scoffed. “Get to his office. Now.”
I couldn’t say no. The first was because she was right about our species’ standing as a “Transitional Species”. But the other reason was because the females of these species were huge. It made sense since their system of governance was a matriarchy. But even then, this bitchy Yetiayhu was a good 2.3 metres tall, towering over me by quite a bit.
Why the hell were these species so damn demonic? Did nature really just shit on us for all of evolution? Every single alien species I had ever seen was some sort of superhuman being. Was there some galactic hierarchy that I didn’t know of? But whatever, there was nothing I could ever do about that fact. The most concerning thing on my platter now was finding the fate of my only child. Whatever Henix had would have to come second.
But either way, I obliged. Leaving my little command sector with a scowl. The doors hissed shut behind me and I turned to my left and began my journey. To prevent an emotional disaster, I tried to ease my haywire senses by inspecting the futuristic facility around me.
Around me was a circular walkway that wrapped around the edge of the station as the outer rim wrapped around the core. Now that I think about it, the station resembled more like a solar system than the bullseye some of the Hungarians compared it to. There was a huge spherical central command at the core of the structure, and then there were the rims. Those were essentially shorter tube structures that wrapped around the centre. Like an orbit.
But these “orbits” weren’t separated by any spaces at all and were all bunched together and connected. The only open space in this station was between the centre and the outer sectors, which was only punctuated by multiple pressurised walkways. The other sectors and posts were in a concentric batch of circular structures around the core. Where I was going, was into the core.
I strolled along the outskirt walkway before taking a right turn into the deeper sections of the station. The view changed from a large window of space to machines and tech beyond my comprehension as I made my way into the inner sectors. The closer it was to the core, the more important it was. These areas were exclusively for the Confederation members, so no human without permission or clearance could enter. But apparently, they were okay when I was there. Many of them gave parting glances before getting back to their work on their “holograms” and “holopads”.
That was something to note, the tech difference between our two civilisations was greater than we could even conceived of, following the Armistice. I watched as humanity went from pigeons and telegraphs to radios and enigma. Now these aliens had “networks” and “internets”. All the new tech was annoying and complex, I never knew what to do. That’s why my sector, the only sector with humans, used telegraphs, enigma, morse, paper, ink, pen, typewriters, and everything else that you would find in an earthly workplace.
I went through a workplace that was basically a science fiction book. It had bright white individual work pods, big glowing blue screens that weren’t even tangible, and so many other things that were too much for me to comprehend. This was stuff only a writer could come up with! Even if we had all of the guns, tanks, and planes our planet’s resources would’ve let us make, it still wouldn’t have even come close to the weapons of the Confederation and their sophistication.
After a long stroll through the labyrinth of connected stations and workplaces, I finally reached the connecting walkways. I entered a little middle chamber that hissed a little gas onto me and ran over me with a blue and red laser. The other doors then opened and I was let through into the lightless walkway.
Once again, only space shined through the top glass dome that ran across the whole upper section of the walkway. But even if I wanted to, I couldn’t even gaze at the stars due to the circumference of the spherical central command blocking half my vision. The outside cover of the sphere was white and hexagon padded, which just added to the already humongous gap between humanity and our Confederation conquerors.
But, even if I looked beyond that when no structures were blocking my view, I could see at least a hundred or more blocky slabs of black and grey.
And there it was, the Confederation Occupational Fleet. It was so menacing with all of their Vatican-sized ships. Except, those ships were only frigates. Their fleet had cruisers, frigates, destroyers, battleships, battle cruisers, carriers, supercarriers, and everything in between. All to monitor our little desolate rock of two billion.
Their supercarriers which were probably the size of Rome, were the prides of the enemy fleet. Those bulky beasts and their battleships were the literal symbols of their superiority. All of these ships had enough firepower to raze a good million or so Earths. Why they sent all of this to deal with a species that hadn’t done anything past grazing space with a V-2 rocket was beyond me.
Overkill, My mind ranted to itself. Ego just radiates off those ships like heat from the sun!
Speaking of the sun, in a good few months, there wouldn’t even be one.
Or, to be more specific, it would be pretty much enclosed in a megastructure to harness power from it. The Confederation called their mad project a “Hrana Complex”. Construction began even before they attacked Earth, and they were making progress. Whenever a human complained about it, the Confederation ilk always shot them down with either a patronisation of their primitive nature or a response that there would be a small window for Earth to receive light; As if that was better.
The sun was dimmer and dimmer by the day, the one light that all humans looked up to was fading. Blocked out by tech and machines from the occupying powers. That’s like if the Germans built a big space shield to block America from the sun and kill all of their crops or something.
The idea was so alien that not even I could come up with a relatable explanation for it!
After a long while of distracting myself with successful results, I finally reached the other side of the walkway, which was a large metal door. I now had to push the heavy metal door open with difficulty as it slowly hissed open. Upon entering, I was greeted by two Bwkas, who were basically supersized humanoid bears, but with deadly attributes tripled in their power and appearance. Of course, I was met with the average stare of contempt as I made my way up to them.
“And why are you here?” one of them growled with venom as it balanced its heavy rifle in its claws. Those “rifles” were the size of an anti-tank rifle or an Ami bazooka. The difference was that it was also automatic and powered by plasma. Just by seeing that, anyone could’ve already predicted it to you that humanity was doomed from the start of the war.
“Legion-Commander Henix wanted to speak with me?” I replied with a head tilt.
“Up the stairs and down the left hall to the right,” the other grumbled with a snarl of its fangs. He was talking as if I didn’t know where my own senior officer was.
I rolled my eyes secretly and trudged on. Scurrying off into the main lobby, I gazed up to see that the vertex of the roof was an absolutely stupendous 40 metres high! That just added a cavernous feeling to the multi-floored white chamber. It was a whole office building in space.
Not many of those were left in Warsaw anyway.
As I made my way toward the circulating stairwell, my gaze snapped to the circular stellar map that projected a huge three-dimensional view of the galaxy. I couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the glowing non-touchable lights every time I saw it. The map was of the whole known galaxy, the dark pink was the Confederation at the centre. It was huge, at least triple the size of the second largest power, whose name was in an alien tongue unknown to me. All the other colours were of the different species that were independent states and empires of their own.
Free from the forced “civilising” we were suffering through.
Annoyingly, my long black military boots slapped against the clean granite floor with loud audible clacks. This, of course, instantly drew attention from all the beasts around me. All of them looked at me with confusion before it morphed into what I assumed was judgment. These species didn’t think highly of us at all. I mean, according to them, we were uncivilised brutes. Dumb primates that just invented new ways of chucking rocks at one another.
Now, that wasn’t wrong per se. But, it wasn’t nice when that was their one sole opinion of our species.
From the beginning of my tenure here, they practically spat on me. They saw my use of our antiquated tech to be insubordination, and savage in nature. Whenever I did my Polish two-fingered salute, they saw it as disrespect and dishonour. Whenever I didn’t eat the same solely raw and carnivorous diet as them, I was a disgusting omnivore who was a greedy bastard wanting to steal from both sides.
Whatever that meant! Imagine being persecuted because of what you ate! On Earth, we were prosecuting each other over other stupid things like skin, race, ethnicity, national origin, religion, how people looked, and everything else similar.
But!
Nobody was stupid enough to get mad at each other over food. Muslims didn’t kill Christians over eating pork. Jews didn’t kill Muslims over them eating dairy and meat on the same plate. Food was food. We all needed it to survive. Yet, the aliens saw it as just another thing to hate us for.
How could these things hate us but somehow still force themselves to occupy us? Why didn’t they just let us duke it out in the battlefields and on the high seas? Why were they just lamer Nazis? Death by slow assimilation and bigotry was worse than death by starvation, labour, or the firing squad.
Making my way up some circulating steps to the second floor, I took the turn and rushed down the hall before finding the door to Henix’s room. Pushing it open with a low drum, I was met with the dark room of Legion-Commander Henix. The only thing lighting the room was, of course, empty space. Since we were higher than the orbiting sectors, his window was actually able to see into the rest of outer space.
The dimming sun reflected off of the station’s concentric exterior and the stars shined bright through thick glass and into the little dark room. The floor was akin to an emerald-coloured rug and the walls were shelves for storage devices like their “pads” and “drives”.
“Greetings, sir,” I opened to the Kohaul with a two-fingered Polish salute.
The Kohaul were the typical humanoids, but they were practically copies of wolves. Light grey fur, a huge bushy tail, and a patch of dense hair around the pelvis area that acted as a sort of frontal tail. Hazel or blue eyes. And, obviously better than us in every way as usual with fangs, semi-venomous saliva, better hearing with their dog ears, the ability to run faster, especially on all fours, and all of that useless garbage that I was used to. Humanity was clearly always the weak link.
Ending my salute and looking to the right, it was then that I noticed at least three other foreign beasts. I quickly recognised them as superiors of different stations and fleets. Why they were here just added to my paranoia.
A Wenli, a Felshan, and a Geinna. Or the more simplified version being: a humanoid dragon, a blue lizard, and a literal Pacific folk beast.
If you were to continue simplifying it even more, you’d come to the definition that they were the three species assigned to resistance mop-up duty on Earth.
“Now, now,” Henix growled. “What is the way I taught you?”
Sighing deeply, I put my Polish general cap to my chest with my left hand before bowing slightly. They wanted us to purge all of the things that made us Polish soldiers and make us their soldiers. I wasn’t going to give up so easily. No matter how much they held me in high regard. They would have to acknowledge that Poland was for the Poles and I would never be anything else.
“Now, I know you are a good commander. You have served us well,” Henix began with a flick from his dog ear. “But, something has come up in recent days that has been of horrible concern to us.”
“And that is?” I asked with a raised brow, sitting at the open chair in front of Henix with a grunt.
“Wasting Confederation equipment and materials on something unsanctioned by any relevant superior on this station,” the Geinna replied for Henix with a hiss.
Oh, kurwa.
They had caught me red-handed. Was today just the day my luck ran dry from its coffers? I was now completely at their mercy. But, these aliens were brutes. So, I was sure that I’d be beheaded within the next hour.
I had tried my best to scrub all evidence of my operations. I put in false reports and fake alerts to give them the facade of me just doing my job. It appears that they saw through my ulterior actions quickly. I was using their tech to do it. Why did I not expect them to know!?
“Now, unless you would be so kind as to tell me why, maybe I’ll pardon your charges,” Henix warned with a composure that put me off.
“Charges of what?” I asked fearfully.
“Well, normally, that would just be a reprimand or demotion at the worst. But since you are a species that we are trying to integrate into the galactic community . . . the punishment is equivalent to treason.”
Henix must’ve seen my face go pallid as his expression softened from robotic seriousness to empathy in a moment. I didn’t despise Henix at all, and this was the exact reason why.
He could feel empathy.
Unlike most Germans.
And he showed reason.
Unlike most Germans.
“Oh, no, don’t worry,” he reassured me with a sombre grin. “I personally do not wish for that fate to befall you. You have served me well. I’ll defend you. But I can’t do that if you won’t even tell me why.”
I would’ve, but I couldn’t. I trusted Henix. Sure, he was as bigoted and cold as his shitty peers. But, I could trust in his word. He wasn’t a crook. But for his comrades present? For all I knew, this was a death trap to get me to confess and to justify a sudden execution. It's not like they would've cared much if I lived or died anyway. I was expendable.
“I know nothing of this,” I affirmed, straightening myself in the slick white chair. Since I was practically a master of all things cold and emotionless, I could just put off a face of resolute honesty without any weaknesses, barring the death of Katarzyna. They’d have to fuck off eventually for that reason, and I’d be more careful with my further searches.
But then again, Katarzyna was dead, and Jakub probably was too. There was nothing else to really risk my life for. Because I had no more life. The two I loved most were gone. I could’ve just let myself die here. I had nothing else. My parents were dead, my home was rubble, my country was occupied, my wife was dead too, and my son was too. I had nothing left to fight for.
“You are the only human in this position of power,” Henix hummed. “We chose you for a reason. You had talent and composure. But this we cannot tolerate. Don’t play coy and tell us.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I huffed with concern mounting in me and gnawing on my soul. “I do not know why you seem to want to frame me for such a crime.”
“Commander Dunajski,” the Felsha snarled. “We’re not stupid. Do not try and lie to us.”
“I am not lying,” I turned to the row of beasts with a scowl. “Whatever could I even use the equipment for? My subordinates only use human machines. Typewriters. Not ‘holographic display devices’ or any of that fancy tech. Why would I even?”
“Commander Duna—”
“No,” I cut off in a calm but harsh tone, “this will not continue.”
Henix looked between the beasts and then he zeroed in on me with his steely blue eyes that rivalled mine, “I know you’re lying, Commander. This will simply mount your charges.”
“In fact,” the Felshan admiral began with a sad smirk, “you could be helping resistance movements for all we know. That level of treason is something very few get and it’s for a good reason. Does that sound like something you’d want?”
“I didn’t do any of the deeds of which I am accused,” I held my ground with a growl. “I have nothing to gain!”
“Do you not?” Henix growled, now agitated. “I’ve noticed a lot of care in searching for a ‘Katarzyna’ and ‘Jakub’. Is there any reason why?”
The Geinna nodded, “Are these contacts or aliases? You know well what fate awaits you if we prove their origin to be that of a resistance cell.”
Oh, Bog. I was really stuck now. They knew their names too. I couldn’t just shrug this off. If I continued parrying their questions, I’d totally get beheaded. They wanted us to be as meek and docile as possible. Me standing up to their accusations instead of folding probably already probably fucked up my chances of clemency.
I looked up to Henix, and his blue eyes were unforgiving. He was waiting for my next move, like a brutal game of chess. I turned to look at the three bastards to my right, their eyes were filled with scorn and disgust at me, at my people.
Just like the Germans.
“I-I . . . I don’t . . . They aren’t . . . ” I began before letting out a deep sigh to empty my tight lungs. Silence enveloped the room for a good few seconds. I couldn’t fight on anymore. I’d lost. “You win.”
“As expected,” the Wenli grumbled. “I expected better of someone like you. But I guess the nature of such a volatile and insubordinate species like you would always dominate your actions.”
I didn’t mind that blatant patronisation of me and my kind as I just looked up at Henix with decimated dreams. Henix seemed to note that I wished to talk as he leaned and sat up straight in his chair. He’d listen. But not his ilk.
“Do you have a testimony, Commander Dunajski?” Henix purred with his head leaned in on his arm.
“Well,” I began with a wince, “i-it’s for a selfish reason to be fair.”
“Mhm,” Henix replied, pulling out one of his hologram pads to write down my testimony. Even if I trusted him, as of now, I couldn’t even trust him with writing my own testimony. For all I knew, he’d probably just warp it into something reminiscent of a last-second attempt at deception or just plain begging.
Then again, he was my best chance to prevent my fate from manifesting.
“I-I-I . . .” I stuttered, not finding the words to express my suffering. My throat burned and my eyes filled with tears. My face of composure was just as fragile as my mental health. All I knew was going to shit.
“You what?” Henix snarled. “I’m not here to take stutters as a testimony. Give me a comprehensible sentence or I can call the guards in to take you to the brigs.”
“I j-just want to find my family,” I blurted blindly. Clamping my eyes shut, I waited for my reasoning to be torn apart by the monsters before me. The monsters that were killing our homes and assimilating us.
Just like the . . . Oh, you know who!
After a little while of uncomfortable silence, I reopened my eyes and looked up at my prosecutors. Henix’s ears perched up in surprise at the confession, and I heard the slaps of tails and the rustle of scales from my side. I expected that to be an even greater reason to punish me. Using their tech just to find my family? Treason it was. I couldn’t even pull myself back together when a few tears rolled down my cheek as I looked to the floor once more in shame.
I fought and worked for Jakub and Katarzyna. Now both were gone. And even if Jakub was still alive, he would be without a father too in this new world. Nothing was happy about this unceremonious end. My story was over, and so were the stories of my family, friends, and parents.
“F-family?” Henix finally hummed with a hint of shock. He then attempted to hide it with his monotone voice. I slowly and quietly sobbed to myself, cursing my weakness. “Tell me more.”
The other beasts in the room shuffled their feet and locked their gazes on me with a bit of anticipation. I was a bit confused by the reaction. How was saying they were my loved ones a game-changer? But, I didn’t pay much attention anyway, my mind was filled to the brim with the stone-cold fact that had haunted me since the beginning of my searches:
I was now alone.
“Wife and son. I-I don’t know where they are. I was searching for them both. Using your systems, I . . . before you summoned me here, I got a report. In it, Katarzyna, my wife of twenty-two years, is dead. My son . . .” I gave a miserable chuckle, “only God Almighty knows where he is now.”
I should have never cried. I should have never shown emotion, especially on this damn station. Emotional control was the most important here. These beasts were very organised and very honour-driven. Crying itself was probably considered treason. At this point, it was just another thing to add on to my list of present offences.
Everything was collapsing in front of me in quick succession.
Instead of scolding me though, Henix just looked at me and watched me fail at controlling my sobs. It gave me an odd feeling that he was just tacitly judging me rather than chastising me verbally. The other beasts were the same, simply wagging their tails in thought or tilting their heads. It unnerved me a bit, but I was too busy internally cursing myself to care about it.
After what felt like my whole tour in Bolshevik Russia, Henix gave a low growl and a wag of his bushy back tail with the words of his sentencing response pushing against his fangs. The fate waiting for me was only a second away, and with that one growl, I’d be done for. What a fool I was to trust any of these pigs!
“I’m sorry about your predicament,” he spoke slowly. “When we saw the crimes of your ‘Nazis’ it became one of the major reasons why we intervened on this damn planet in the first place.”
What a lie. My brain cackled nonchalantly. They’re doing the same things as the Nazis; Although this time, it was all of us who were suffering from it.
Rolling my eyes, I saw through the bullshit. They were no different.
Scraping at his slick and futuristic desk in ponderous thinking, Henix refocused his pristine and steely blue eyes on me, “What you did was unprofessional and highly dishonourable. Anyone who did such an offence would’ve been discharged or demoted with the snap of a maw.
He shook his head in another short pause as he formulated his next response. I hated the silence, I just wanted a “yes” or a “no” if I was to be shot or not. The aliens had a knack to be blunt, but also verbose. It didn’t make sense, but that’s how they worked. And boy did I hate it!
“But, I cannot even attempt to grasp the gravity of the situation you are dealing with,” he began again, snapping me from my thoughts.
I scowled with agitation and furrowed my brows, “Am I still being shot?”
“No,” the other Wenli interrupted with a sigh and a lick of his fangs. “But, we aren’t leaving you here either.”
My mind went berserk As if that was better! Leaving me alive at this point was punishment enough! Without this station, I’d have to scan all of Europe manually. It’d take the rest of my whole pathetic life to cover even half of Poland! Damn these beasts and damn their posturing!
“Well,” Henix thought, “I have an idea. Akvu?”
The Felsha stepped up from the group of beasts and bowed slightly, “Yes?”
“How about we send Commander Dunajski to be a part of the clearance teams?”
The Felsha slapped its tail against the floor in disdain, “Isn’t he under suspicion of connections?”
“I never saw it in him,” Henix replied. “He was hiding something? Yes. But I never expected resistance affiliations. He isn’t that type of soldier. Besides, I used the accusation to crack him, not actually charge him.”
“W-what is my punishment?” I interrupted with mounting impatience as I tapped my jackboot in annoyance. Talking about how they broke me wasn’t what I wanted to hear at the moment. What was important was my quest for my old life. I wanted my wife back, my son, my home, my country.
“So, the idea is,” Henix began with his hands raised in illustrative explanation, “we send you to Earth to root out the resistance pockets. Some random places like Roosiya, Anghipt, Brazza, Mixka, Cooba, and much more. But! There is also an ongoing search for a resistance network in Eirope.”
“Where?” I shot back with rejuvenated hope.
“Central Eirope,” Henix hummed with a grin. “Former human nations like Polna, Cjermaña, Nodorla, Belja, and Cnzecka.”
It took me a good second to decipher those names. What a mess of pronunciation for all of them they were. Since they were busy trying to wipe our uniqueness from us, the aliens had their own names for our old nations, just the same as how they put my Poland in an occupation zone called “Foije”. A stupid name. Now, they were just coming up with mispronounced names for the defunct nations of old Earth.
I absolutely loathed the name “Polna” because “Polska” was better in every way. But they were our conquerors, and they were the bastards who just sentenced me to scouring Europe for my own kind.
“Who’s under my command?” I sighed.
“Oh, just two dozen of every species in the Confederation,” Henix smiled.
“288? That’s kind of small,” I chuckled. “My all-Pole regiment in Britain was at least 1,000 strong.”
“You really think there’s only a dozen species in the Confederation?” Henix snickered. “No, there’s a good seventy. You really thought we sent all of our power across the galaxy to fight some small plucky band of primates? How adorable.”
That ticked me off, but since I didn’t want to bite the hand that spared me from a beheading, I kept my mouth zipped tight. My composure returned and I wiped the tears off with my sleeve as Henix talked with his other peers in their garbled choking that they called a “language”. My goals had shifted from not crying to not snickering as they conversed in the throat cancer they revered as an actual tongue to be spoken by someone.
“For now, you are dismissed,” Henix sighed. “I hereby remove you from your post. You will report to the bays for a debrief.”
“Can I bring my personal belongings?”
“No,” he replied coldly.
“Why?”
Henix squinted his eyes in anger, “Get there and don’t ask any more questions. You are still a disgraced officer and you will not be shown any more mercy from us.”
How reassuring, I scoffed to myself once more. These aliens were as blunt as wood! They might rival my old camp Oberkommando. Hell, they might as well be him!
Sighing, I pressed my hands against the smooth chair and shakily brought myself up again. With another stupid bow, I left while trembling in every limb. I was in a precarious position now. Anything that went wrong under my command, I would take the hit.
But, if it still gave me a chance to at least try and piece my old life back together;
Then I’d throw myself into it with an intrepid Polish spirit.
-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-
[Prev]

^{you always were special
always special to me
all of you
every
last
one
of
you}
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
Sacajawea leaned back, staring at the hologram in the middle of the table.
"I fled the Glassing. I asked Luke to rebirth my people, help me get the colony ships working, then ran for it," she said. "Twelve ships lifted off, escorted by light attack and defense craft," she closed her eyes. "Only four made it. The Mantid boarded two of the ships," she swallowed thickly. "I could hear them scream as the Mantid killed them."
Legion squeezed her hand gently.
N'Skrek could see the pain in her features.
For her, it may be thousands of years ago, but it still brings pain, he thought to himself. For me, for all of us at this table, this is an event tens of thousands of years ago. Barely remembered history.
"We stayed in jumpspace for months, years, pushing at the upper bands," she shook her head. "We eventually hit the point where the ships were pushed back down by the pressure."
N'Skrek nodded. The upper jumpspace bands required specialized engines and jumpcores.
"We used cryogenics to make the trips," she said. "We would exit jumpspace, refuel at a far orbit gas giant that was not frozen, then jump again," she shook her head. "All I could think of was to run as far and as fast as I could, and bring my people with me."
She began drawing lines.
"Hundreds of years passed while we slept, a dreamless sleep," Sacajawea said. "We ran until the ships could run no more. Two of them failed exiting jumpspace, but we were lucky. By that time I understood that each jump could be our last, so I ensured that we headed toward stellar systems that had a high probability of a planet we could survive on."
She shook her head.
"I never entered cryo-sleep. I stayed awake, guiding our path," she inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. "I could feel our path. I knew which way to go."
Luke held up one finger, getting everyone's attention.
"The Digital Omnimessiah, he changed us with his touch. Each of us with our own part to play to save humanity," he said. He glanced at Sacajawea. "She can see, feel probabilities and adjust to a shifting situation with nearly precognizant accuracy."
Sacajawea rolled her eyes and sniffed, pursing her lips. "You make it sound so pedestrian."
Luke just smiled.
"For hundreds of years I stood on the bridge of a damaged colony ship, my pointing finger our only guide," she said.
N'Skrek noted that her voice had fallen into a sing-song cadence.
"Finally I saw the six suns, arranged in the shape of an eagle," she said. "I knew, at that moment, that this would be as far as we could go. Our ships were failing, but they could make this last leg of our journey. I chose the best one for my people. It was nearly paradise, just needing a little bit of tweaking. No life higher than plant life and simple insects, perfect to live away from hatred, war, and slaughter."
She looked down.
"I led them to their doom," she said softly. "We had to rely on high technology at first. Terraformers, the gene banks that Luke had acquired, orbital lift capacity."
She shook her head. "Little did we know that the technology would attract what you call the Mar-gite."
N'Skrek shook his head. "No. You were just in the way," he said.
She looked startled.
"If the planet had carbon based life or an oxygen heavy atmosphere, they would have devoured it," N'Skrek said. He shrugged. "It's what they do. Before recently, we thought they were some kind of locust that just denuded planets and moved on."
"Now we know that they're a weapon, being driven in front of another species," Admiral Breakheader said.
She blinked several times, then turned to Luke.
"True story," Luke shrugged.
Sacajawea was silent for a long moment, then she shivered and touched the hologram again.
"I guided my people along the True Path, the one that promised the most happiness and most reward," she said. She glanced at Luke. "Those who wished to embrace more technology had their own spaces, although I did not dwell with them."
She looked down at where Luke was still holding her hand.
"For thousands of years, six thousand of our years," she said. "Then the Outsiders came."
"How long Confederate Standard?" Admiral Breakheader asked, rubbing his chin.
N'Skrek could hear the rustle of bristles from the Vice-Admiral's five-o-clock shadow.
Sacajawea closed her eyes. "Almost six thousand to the day."
Breakheader nodded, making a note.
"At first, they just appeared in out of the way locations. Someone would see them and they'd flee, move away, and eventually they started to show up more and more near the technological enclaves," Sacajawea shook her head. "It was the technology that they were attracted to."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Then came the attacks. Our superluminal communication links went first, but not before we learned that we were being attacked on all six worlds simultaneously. We held them off for years, protecting ourselves. No matter what path I looked at, I could see no path that had a statistically viable path to victory, I could only minimize their victories," she closed her eyes. "They began capturing my people, abducting whole villages."
"Then came the Devouring Ones," she said. "Two years later, and we were gone."
Breakheader nodded.
"Initial scouting, followed by an assault, then research, then finished with an extermination attack," he said. He looked up. "Standard xenocide tactics."
Sacajawea looked way.
"He's right," Luke said. She looked at him, surprised. "You put up too stiff of a fight so they brought in their heavy hitters after getting a good look at how we worked."
There was silence for a moment, then Commander Hentrill looked up from her datapad. "How did you die?" she asked.
"What difference does it make?" Sacajawea asked.
Hentrill looked unfazed by the glare that Sacajawea aimed down her nose at her. "It makes a lot of difference, Ma'am," she said cooly.
N'Skrek could feel that Hentrill had developed a dislike for the Immortal over the course of the conversation.
"When they came for me, when I was the last, I stepped from the cliff and fell to the rocks below, where the waves washed against the shore. By the time they reached me, I had died from my injuries," Sacajawea said. "I sang as I fell so that..."
"Suicide. They gathered your lifeless corpse," Hentrill said. She narrowed her eyes. "You have a standard datalink for the Glassing Era. Did you have one when you fell?"
Sacajawea nodded. "It was on piece of technology that I felt was necessary to embrace," she said.
"So, you killed yourself and the enemy obtained your datalink and your brain," Hentrill said. "What about your leaders? You did have military leaders, yes?"
Sacajawea glanced at Luke, who nodded. "Yes. I convinced Luke to bring back great leaders of my people and I nurtured their spirits as I raised them during the trip."
"Did they have datalinks?" Hentrill asked.
Sacajawea nodded. "Yes. I had been told, repeatedly, that effective communication was vital to winning a war."
"Daxin," Luke interjected.
Sacajawea sniffed. "Yes."
Hentrill made a note. "Were your leaders targeted early in the conflict?" she asked.
"Of course," Sacajawea said. "Many were killed, but the technology we had allowed them to return within days, only missing a few days of their previous life. Luke had convinced Peter to ensure we had a version of the SUDS, which we only used for critically important people."
N'Skrek saw a muscle twitch next to Luke's eye, but he stayed smiling.
"But it was destroyed before the Devourers came," Sacajawea said. "It could not be helped. There was almost no path I could take that would prevent it from being destroyed, so I chose the path that would result in the least casualties for my people."
N'Skrek was not that familiar with Terrans, but he could tell that Commander Hentrill was rubbed the wrong way by that statement.
"I think we should take a break," N'Skrek said. He nodded toward Luke. "I am sure both of you are fatigued from being brought back from the dead."
"Yes," Sacajawea said before Luke could do much more than open his mouth. "I would prefer to have privacy to rest and perform necessary rites."
N'Skrek just nodded. "I'll be sure you get privacy."
0-0-0-0-0
Legion stood next to the tank, one hand on the heavily armored skirt, staring at the black metal the tank was made from.
"Warsteel Mark-IV," he whispered to himself. He shook his head. "We are old friends, you and I," he said softly, running one hand across the metal. "Later superseded by arcanochromium for the Mark-V."
He didn't care if anyone heard him talking to the tank. There was just a single Telkan in the vehicle bay, running diagnostic checks on one of the big Telkan armored transports used for power armor troops.
^{your name is luke}
He shook his head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He kept hearing slight buzzing whispers.
He felt her before he could see her. Felt her leave the lift, the warsteel doors pulling open and letting her presence roll out to fill the vehicle bay.
He heard her shoes clicking and closed his eyes, sighing.
It's not her. Not the one you knew. It's Tiffany, not Sacajawea, he thought to himself.
^{your name is luke}
He looked up just in time to see a green mantid wave shyly at him.
He smiled at it and waved back just as Sacajawea stopped next to him.
"A green mantid?" she said, her voice slightly fearful.
"Engineer caste," Luke said. "They like me."
"They are Mantid," Sacajawea said, her voice cold and hard.
"The war was thousands of years ago, and even if it wasn't, he is blameless in it," Luke said.
"But it is a Mantid," Sacajawea said. She watched coldly as the little green mantid waved and rushed away.
"I have more in common with him than I do with the majority of humanity," Luke said softly.
Sacajawea scoffed. "Surely not."
Luke nodded. "His kind was trapped inside their own minds. Capable of thought, artistic expression, fear, love, affection, all of it," he ran one finger along the armored track skirt of the tank, a fat purple spark jumping from between his finger and the black armor. "The whole war, until the Mechakrautlanders killed that Overqueen, they were inside their own little heads, screaming endlessly."
He ran his finger again, watching another spark jump out.
"When green mantids cluster up, their intelligence increases. Not by leaps and bounds, just slightly, but the bigger part is, they could feel the ones around them screaming but were unable to reach out and touch them," he said. He was silent a moment. "I understand them, they understand me. Both of us, bred and created to merely serve, without any thought as to our souls."
He turned arounds, looking at Sacajawea.
"They are among the Digital Omnimessiah's most fervent believers, and one of humanity's staunchest allies," he said. He motioned at the tanks around them. "You have been gone a long time, little sister."
"And you, did you live through the forty-thousand years? What did you do?" Sacajawea asked.
Luke shook his head. "I retreated. After the War in Heaven and in Hell, after the Flashbang, I retreated," he said. "I spent most of my time at Atlantis, which led to me being more or less imprisoned, away from the galaxy."
He flashed a smile.
"At least I had the Detainee for company. She's an interesting conversationalist."
Sacajawea just sniffed, looking around. "What is that?" she asked, pointing at the lone Telkan, who had just straightened up from the tracks and was wiping his hands off with a rag.
"A Telkan. An full member species of the Confederacy, an ally to humanity, who took part in the War in Heaven," Luke said. He waved at the Telkan, who waved back, and went back to inspecting the vehicle.
"It looks like a fox," Sacajawea said.
Luke cut her off with a motion of his hand. "I swear to God, you start talking to me about how they obviously embody the trickster spirit of the fox and thus are untrustworthy I'll put you right back where I found you," he said sharply.
Sacajawea pursed her lips in irritation.
"You have to let go. Let go of your preconceived notions. Let go of all the old hurts. It's been eight-thousand years for you and forty-thousand for the universe," Luke said softly, turning back to running his hand over the armor on the tank. "Even Daxin could see that."
Sacajawea snorted. "Like Daxin ever saw anything that wasn't in the sights of his guns."
Luke turned around, his jaw clenched. "You don't speak bad about him in my presence again," he snapped, drawing himself up to full height. "Not now, not ever again," he leaned forward slightly. "You weren't here. You left us, the Digital Omnimessiah was dead, and we were all bereft," sparks jumped out from under his boots and under the palm that rested on the tank's armor. "True, I spent over a thousand years running from him, but he was still my brother. It hurt more than anything not to be at his side when he died."
Sacajawea looked around at the tanks and armored vehicles. "He fell on some battlefield," she said. It was less a question and more a statement.
Luke shook his head. "No. He died, in his sleep, surrounded by his family. His children, grand-children, and great-grand children. He was finally at peace," he sighed. "When he arrived in Afterlife, he waited patiently for his wife and even though I wanted to spend time with him," he sighed again. "It was time to let the Walking War Crime rest."
Luke turned and faced Sacajawea. "In your mind, we are still the same as we were," he said gently. He reached out and took her hand in his. "But that is no longer true. We grew, we set aside old differences, we set aside old hatreds, and we moved forward rather than holding tight to the past."
She sniffed, looking away, but not pulling her hand away. "I have seen the history. A history of lies that glosses over the crimes and bloodshed."
"Temporal warfare counter-measures," Luke said. "After The Glassing, history and culture was lost. It was rebuilt from oral tales and fragmented records."
"Lies," she said again.
"Weaponized," Luke said. He pulled his hand free, jamming both hands into his pockets. "It's protected Terra, protected everyone, even your people, more than once. When the Atrekna came, that was probably the only thing that saved our people," he stared at her. "Saved humanity."
"So they don't care about the truth?" she asked.
"What truth? That thousands of years ago an aggressive Mantid hive wrecked up Earth? Nobody cares any more," he said. "That's the thing about them. They aren't like us. We can easily remember the Glassing. For them, it's a few paragraphs in a history book they read in school. Maybe some scholars look at that era," he looked up at the lights. "For the majority of humanity, the Glassing is as far and remote as the light of the stars in the sky," he looked back down. "And that's a good thing."
"I do not understand you," Sacajawea said.
^{she never did
not like i do
luke}
"You never did," Luke said. "You never did. She eventually understood me."
^{that's right
i understand you}
"You cloned me without my consent," she accused. She crossed her arms. "I await your justifications."
Luke just smiled. "I did. I cloned you without your consent. I told your clone that it was a clone," he looked up. "Then the Imperium caught us, turned us into the Immortals. Used her as a seer to determine how to reach victory, but she held information back and Daxin, at the head of the Martial Orders of Terra, broke the Imperium over his knee."
He looked back down. "Afterwards, she worked tirelessly on the Terra Restoration Project. While I was busy running, she returned to Terra, sought out the survivors of her people, and helped them restore their lands and way of life."
Sacajawea looked away. "As did I."
Luke chuckled. "She used temporal lensing to look back into the past, see the reality of the old ways, watch the rituals and daily life of the ancestors, and restored them."
"Yet, the history books are full of lies," Sacajawea sniffed.
"After the Second Temporal War, she understood and embraced the counter-warfare protocols. She helped interweave your people into the tales," Luke said. "Was it all lies? Partly. Like the best ones, it had good heaping helping of truth hidden inside the metaphors and personifications of events."
"And where is she now?" Sacajawea asked, watching the Telkan inspect the running gears of the armored vehicle.
"She led the Sky Nebula Alignment fleet. She led our peoples, all our peoples, to someplace where our enemies would not find us," Luke said. He turned and ran his hand over the armor again. "I stayed behind. I never lost faith that the Digital Omnimessiah would return."
He lifted his palm and made small figure eights on the armor with his fingertips.
"I loved her, so I let her go," he said softly. "She had seen it was the only way our people would survive a coming darkness."
He looked at Sacajawea. "She was right."
Sacajawea looked at where Luke was making small figure eights with his fingers on the armor. "There is no good path for me to take. All of them are risky, most of them I will perish," she said. She reached out and took his hand. "My best chances for survival is to flee," she lifted his hand and grasped it with both of hers.
"Come with me. Let us leave. You can take us elsewhere, where we have a chance of survival," she tilted her head to encompass the vehicle bay. "Too many of these paths lead to both our deaths. There are too few that lead to a place where we both survive."
Luke delicately removed his hand from hers, using one hand to lift her fingers from her grip on his hand one by one.
"No."
Sacajawea frowned. "No? Together, we can go somewhere else where we have a better chance to stand up to whatever comes and have a possibility of triumphing at a later date," she waved at the armored vehicles. "This way, the way that Treana'ad commander is taking us, is rife with nothing but death and destruction."
Luke stared at her for a long moment.
"You never understood," he said softly. "Your desire, your drive, to save your people, and yourself, blind you to the things that must be done," he put one hand on the tank again. "That sometimes the only path forward to success is the one fraught with the most danger, hardship, and suffering."
He turned away and started walking deeper into the vehicle bay.
"She understood," he said softly.
"I am not her," Sacajawea said.
"Obviously."
Sacajawea just sniffed and turned away, leaving the bay.
^{your name is luke}
By the tank, Jaskel wondered why the hell they'd chosen that particular bay for their little spat.
He looked at 8814, who was still practially hopping from foot to foot with happiness.
"I'm glad you got to meet him," Jaskel said honestly.
--yes ┏(＾0＾)┛┗(＾0＾) ┓ yes--
0-0-0-0-0
Dhruv sat in the shadowy room, wearing a pair of exercise shorts, waiting.
Finally, he could smell cigarette smoke and a presence filled the room.
"What?" a voice asked from the shadows. The end of a cigarette brightened as a drag was taken off of it, briefly illuminating gun-metal gray eyes and severe cheekbones.
"I want a favor," Dhruv said.
He could feel the smile even if he couldn't see it.
"People in my care want ice water," the woman's voice commanded.
"I want you to look up SUDS records for me. I need you to process some of them so I can either talk to them or see their last moments," Luke said. He looked away from the glow of the cigarette. "Records from a long time ago."
"If I decide to do this, I'll need specifics," the woman said, exhaling smoke that curled into the figure of a man on his knees, face in his hand, sobbing.
"I'll provide them. They should be easy to find via their x, y, z, q coordinates," Luke said.
"Now for the big question," the woman said, chuckling.
"What?" Luke asked.
"Why should I help you?" the woman asked.
"Because I'm willing to make a deal with the Devil," Legion said.
This time he could see the glint of teeth in the smile.
^{your name is legion}
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]