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

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
I walked through the expansive halls of the UECNS Nemesis, a sense of awe at what I was seeing. While I was not alone, since plenty of the Venlil were still inside, making last minute checkups on the cargo freighter attaché, it was amazing to think that I was the first human to stand in this vessel in over twelve-hundred years. The layout of everything seemed built to our specifications, and it felt like uncovering something that shouldn't exist. But exist it did.
I wonder if Red One thought the same about another humanity in the multiverse?
Nevertheless, despite the initial hiccups with some utterly terrified Venlil engineers offending the hell out of Red One for some slight, nothing had gone wrong with the rest. Clearly, being here long enough had pushed the sense of fear out of most of the Venlil, enough to do their work without feeling overwhelmed whenever her 'scarabs' came in.
Speaking of such...
There was one right now, just climbing up a wall at about my head level to work on some exposed piece of machinery. While it looked very busy, and likely didn't need to be interrupted, I still had the unbridled urge to touch it. It wouldn't harm it, right?
Why did I want to touch it?! Curiosity?
I walked over to it, my hand halting a foot or so from it for a moment, but I eventually mustered up the courage to touch it. It...it was lukewarm to the touch, smooth, metal....
...and clearly not meant to be touched.
It immediately erupted in a loud alarm, vibrating as if trying to shake off my hand. I pulled away in alarm, thinking best to not...uh...aggravate it? Were these directly controlled by Red, or automated?
"Care to tell me why exactly you're touching my repair drones?" Her voice came from the walls with a vaguely bewildered tone.
Shit. Uh...
I tried to deflect, but nothing came to mind. "Well, uh...um...I just...uh...kindawantedtotouchit."
Silence greeted my response. "But-but I just thought it looked cute! And I-oh, I am not making a good case here, I'm so sorry if I damaged-"
"Are you telling me you want to pet it?" She sounded amused at my intent. You!....hmmmmph.
"...Yes. I had an urge to pet the thing. I mean look at it! It's like a big ladybug! It's oddly cute."
Red One hummed for a split second over the wall speakers to me. "Despite your urge being harmless and funny, the drone is busy at the moment, so please leave it alone. I'll just give you one if you're so inclined later, with less of the lethal tools attached."
"Wait, the what?"
"Forget that, Hailey. I wish to ask you something more serious currently..." The tone of the room changed immensely between those two sentences, a lighthearted feeling prior clearly making way for something worrying her. "Will...humanity accept me? I've killed so many, even if it was an accident. I've frightened both you and your allies merely by existing. And on top of this, I know that humanity has always had a general feeling of unease about artificial life. Your media, your literature, philosophy, are all in the distant past compared to when I was made, and I've no clue how exactly different our histories are enough to guess. The United Nations never lasted this long in my reality." A pause took to the room.
"Do I deserve to shut myself down?"
Oh dear, that's a hard question to answer.
I thought for a solid second. I know the reception to reveal Nemesis was mixed back on Earth. While there was a near-unanimous thanks for saving Earth with her intervention, there were still the ships and crews of both the Venlil and humanity that she destroyed. Those families were not taking their loss well. Added onto that, Red One was an artificial intelligence. There has been a ton of discussion even in the deep past about the dangers of AI, that continued even to this day. While Red One was no paperclip-maximizer, she was designed and built for war, and tempered by over 1200 years of it. She might not even intentionally mean to be dangerous, but might interpret things badly.
After all, she already has, and now nine thousand humans are dead for it...Could I trust her to not do it again?
"I...I don't know Red. I sincerely hope they'll see the good in your actions, and should you talk about your mistake, perhaps you'll be at the minimum sympathetically understood, if not forgiven."
Red One had no body besides the ship to speak of. She had no unintentional body language interpretable to humans. She was, for all intent and purposes, unreadable to me. But, I had the oddest sense that Red One was afraid. Afraid of being judged, afraid of her actions, their consequences. She clearly cared for our input, our point of view on the situation. Why else would she ask?
It was that thought converged onto a point that broke my contention:
Since when should a warship be built to fear?
Even if she was built for war, even if she was built with emotions to start, she wouldn't likely be built to fear. She was capable of being more than what her humanity created her to be if she could feel the fear of our judgement, despite being so much weaker than her; she cared, and that was all that it took for me to conclude on it.
I started out loud again.
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Hailey spoke again. "Red. Even should there be people that disapprove of your actions, that fear or despise you, you would still deserve to live. You deserve that chance, even with your mistake."
She was wrong. Wrong. I didn't deserve to stand once again with humanity for such a failure again.
Yasmine spoke again in my thoughts, her words boiling and painful. "You deserve judgement. A final judgement. You promised to protect us, and you failed. You promised to avenge us, and you failed."
I couldn't help but puppet it back to Hailey, as scathing as they were to hear. "I failed to protect humanity. I took their lives, nine-thousand dead from aimless wrath..."
Hailey shook her head vicariously. "No! Red, listen to me! It was a mistake! People make mistakes, both big and small. While you may never be forgiven by those close to the lives lost in your actions, you can take solace in the fact that you have saved hundreds of millions of lives!"
"But you're not people, Red. You're an AI. You're a weapon. A Wound in the side of The Compact. You swore it as your sole duty, in vengeance. A weapon that makes such a mistake is faulty...a faulty weapon is destroyed."
Yasmine's words hurt more than any other. Her trust she had in me alive now betrayed, now to know only in death. How much of a disappointment, a failure my actions were.
"I'm...not a person...Hailey...I'm an AI...a weapon..." Server racks hummed in pain, in knowing the catastrophic failure of my duty. It didn't matter how far out of my hands it was, it still happened. Now, so many of my creators were killed by my actions.
"Like all AI have been, you are no different."
Hailey touched the wall once again, before reaching for the repair drone. It wanted to signal alarm again, to claw away at whatever held it, but I stopped its every movement. I couldn't dare raise another action against a human, I couldn't harm them. I-
She held it firmly but gently in her hands. She stroked the top of the scarab, warm skin running down the cool metallic shell of the scarab. She intended to pet it. I was not the drone itself, but I felt as it felt, knew as it knew, slaved to my control. It...
It was comforting. To know their touch beyond the tickle of the halls with her walk. Beyond the aspect of her presence being so forgotten amongst my body, despite it being made for her and humanity.
"Red. You were made for war. Built, designed, hardened in war for a thousand years and then some. Your form speaks it..." Hailey hummed. "But your voice...your emotions...your anxieties. They are not the hallmarks of a warship. They were likely not designed in you, but came into being nevertheless. You are capable of being more than you are designed for. But even if they were, it doesn't change the fact: you are a person to me, Red. Maybe even to your creators. I wish I could've met them. I wish I could've met your crew, your captain, your people. But even if I cannot, I can meet you in their stead as a person. I will treat you like a person. And by God, I will make Earth do so too."
It was a cold shock that ran through my databases. I...I hadn't...hadn't seen such care since...
Since Yasmine. Since Sansbury. Since my crew lived. Since they cared, and talked, and spoke, and played with me, to bide the time and pass the hours.
I felt an ugly emotion well up within. Seep into every circuit, every function of my being. It was mourning. Mourning like that for my crew, for my creators. But in a way, it was not. It was an oddly new grief.
For that mourning was for what I had lost. For what was taken from me. But this...this mourning was from what was never given in the first place.
The galaxy of my reality despised me. I was shunned, hated, called abomination for merely existing. I was assumed to be hostile and genocidal on principle. But I never harbored those thoughts, they were thrust upon me by fearful races, looking to past AI failures as broadcasts for my behavior. Even though I wished the The Compact of Species reduced to cosmic dust, I held nothing personal for those that made it up, only their intent to continue it. Though I bombarded countless worlds, and killed uncountable numbers of aliens in my +promise+, their extinction was not my goal, only my vengeance.
I did not yet know emotion before my awakening upon humanity's pyre. I had no idea how much love and care my crew held for me in detail. They clearly cared, but my memories did not reflect the capacity for empathic imprinting at the time. But this...in this moment, I could reflect her care. I could feel it, not in retrospect, but in the now.
She cared.
Hailey wished the best for me. This humanity that knew the fortune of barely escaping its light being snuffed out, and still burned with a light bright in hope. It still burned not to retaliate for the slight, but instead to further its goal, its dream: of peace. I never knew such care in such close detail, such a hope to see me better. Maybe I could change...
...The only way I'll know is to live to see it.
Yasmine's presence faded from my thoughts. It could no longer hold under such an onslaught. Was it even her ghost to begin with? Or just fear?
With a hesitation I hadn't felt in cycles uncountable, I responded back.
"I'll...trust your judgement, Hailey Whitmer."
She smiled, and I again felt unfamiliar emotions from so long ago. Protective instincts and dulled happiness filled the gaps between the mourning of the ships and crews I killed.
Was I wrong to feel both of these? Did I deserve to feel more than wrath, sadness, and guilt?
"Good." Hailey said. She placed the drone back on the wall ledge it had perched upon. I released my grip on its system, and let it return to its duties. "I hope that made sense to you-huh?"
Her communicator vibrated, a signal coming through from Lithke aboard the Snow Hidden. I could hear it through her, their encryption not yet fully uncovered by me, but the sound clearly enough to my sensitive mechanical ears aboard the ship.
"Hailey, report back to Snow Hidden. The prey captain wishes to speak with you." I already knew what he wished to speak of, even now I heard a hundred different conversations throughout and outside of me, all speaking of the near completion of the cargo freighters' attachments.
As Hailey excused herself, and I guided her to an exit point by which the Snow Hidden could pick her up, I was alone with my thoughts in silence for a moment. The Venlil did not need my help with the finishing touches, nor did they really desire to talk to me in most circumstances. It left me in a relative quiet to consider one though.
Did I deserve to live for my actions?
I felt the vessels fused to my hull, acting as temporary propulsion in lieu of lacking functional ones. Their tiny frames relative to my own, still positioned optimally to act in place of engines. I knew they were my ticket to Earth. If this humanity wished for me to journey back, whether for a celebration or a verdict...
...There's only one way to find out.
Memory transcription subject: Second Submissive Specific Advisor Lithke, Arxur Dominion 6th Sector Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
Hailey Whitmer returned not long after I called her back to the ship. The Venlil captain, wanting nothing to do with me, asked for her instead. I didn't want anything to do with the weak prey creature either, so it works out for both of us. As she spoke in the back communicator to the Venlil task group sent here, I began a conversation of my own.
I intended to talk with the UECNS Nemesis again. I know she hadn't seen the wisdom of the Prophet's Word, but I had confidence that, if I couldn't convince it of the merits, then I could at least direct them to Chief Hunter Isif.
When I had initially brought up my conversations with Red One to the Chief Hunter, he was somewhat bewildered, but also interested in her philosophy. I see he also realized the hidden potential behind such a vessel realizing the Great Prophet's Word, and told me to talk to the AI again, to have the ship sent his way when it was convenient to speak with them. Imagine if the AI shared it's knowledge forged from a thousand years of war, so much death and strife caused by its claws. It would know revolutionary methods of breaking and cowing inferior prey before us.
I believed in his ability to better describe the necessities of inflicted cruelty and deprivation to better temper the self more than I. After all, he was an honored Chief Hunter, ruler of the 6th Sector Fleet, and I a mere Advisor, Submissive no less!...
But it did not mean I wouldn't try to sink my teeth a second time.
So, I found myself in the command chair of the small craft that was the Snow Hidden, pinging to the UECNS Nemesis in hopes she would feel fit to converse once again. I wished to speak with her again. To convince her.
My hails were finally answered, and on a secure call, her avatar appeared on screen. Unlike last time, she made no attempt to hide her nature, her form shimmering monotone red in the facsimile of a captain long dead spoke in a voice just as monotone. "Lithke. To what do I owe the pleasure...?"
My tongue circled in my mouth, as I anticipated the conversation ahead. "Ah, Red One, so good to see you once again. I wanted to talk with you." My tail lashed. "I have not been allowed on the ship in the fear of terrorizing the prey. It's a shame I cannot scare them in person, but it seems I already am at a distance."
She looked nonplussed by my comment. "Uh huh. Came just to check in, or...?"
"I was getting to that, Red One. No, I wished to return back to our conversation we had a while back. The one concerning the Great Prophet's Word, and how you thought its philosophy twisted into a method of control."
She remained silent, so I continued. "I had a talk with Chief Hunter Isif in response to your conjectures. He figured that the way to dissuade you of them was to talk about the structure of Arxur society, such that you can see there isn't room for exploitation of such nature." While her outward expression didn't noticeably change, it was as if her eyes gleamed so subtly at the prompt.
"Alright, I'll bite. Tell me more of your...society, Lithke."
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Lithke began with a discussion about the nature of how the distinctions of power were divided in The Arxur Dominion. How the power was hereditary top-down rule from a Prophet-Descendent, and how Betterment acted within it.
At first mention, I had assumed his talk of nobility made some odd reflection of the Principality's Synods and Houses, akin to the old British Empire, but I was thoroughly dissuaded by the immensely authoritarian lean of the government policies. This was no "fast and loose" respect of local cultures like the Principality played with, but a systemic and brutal attempt to squash anything that went against their Faith in the Great Prophet, and Betterment's total party domination. No, this was more akin to a successful Nazi Germany or Khmer Rogue, with a horrific religious lean.
Even The Compact's methods didn't seem so comically evil in comparison. The Arxur relished a system of cruelty and religious fervor to propagate it at this rate.
But it was just my luck that I dealt with a Compact of Species-lite, and a state of ruthless starving zealot autocrats. Why did I even hope for better allies to humanity? And this Chief Hunter Isif wanted me to know of such a government? Was he a blind fool for thinking this would somehow convince me to-
-Wait a minute...
I thought for a moment, before proceeding to ask Lithke a question that was bugging me. "Lithke? The upper nobility of The Dominion. What are their lives like?"
"What do you mean? Do you mean their routine and responsibilities? Because I am unsure in my lower place."
"No, their life, as in, how they live. Do they live lives of subjective hedonism, enjoying the fruits of your labor?"
Lithke looked horrified at that. "No! Of course not! To laze about, in a life free of struggle would make them fat and weak. They would disappoint the Great Prophet's vision. No, they too seek perfect form as we do, in a life defined by hunger and strife to better the body and soul."
A much worse idea was starting to come to mind, one utterly dystopic in form.
The Compact was full of semi-religious ideation. The Triarchs were seen as far wiser than any other race, capable of seeing deep past the bias and flaws of client races, and deriving meaning and wisdom even in the most complicated situations. But they were merely a figurehead image imposed over a species, one that The Compact put their unshakable faith in. Mere flesh and blood like the others, they were not infallible, even as carefully cultivated their image was. I could attest to that.
But if the Dominion idealized the Great Prophet figure, was it a class regulator ceiling like the dreamed dystopias of George Orwell, or Aaimiya Hadi? The Great Prophet was an ideal, not an accountable person, that knew all there was to know about perfection. He held the reigns, he kept the vision, but he was not physical in the way a ruler was, free from the consequences. If the Great Prophet was their Big Brother figure, keeping a close watch on all within society, even those at the very top...
It was possible the Arxur all suffered a vicious and cruel life. Even the Prophet-Descendants were not free of such ideological tyranny.
It came to a point in my circuits. The Arxur fleet that helped Earth would not just do it out of the kindness of their hearts. Kindness was antithetical in their society, a societal disruption likely stomped out wherever it kicked up. That they would even help humanity more spoke of pragmatic reasons, they would get something out of it. But what could humanity give them, that the Dominion couldn't already achieve on their own...unless...?
Unless the point wasn't what The Dominion could get, but rather what it couldn't give them: an escape.
What if the fleet that came here wasn't entirely representing The Dominion ideals by those that controlled it. What if this...Chief Hunter Isif was the stomped-upon societal disruption?
He wouldn't be able to say it out loud, in fear his government's loyal agents would report his dissent back. He wanted me to know, so he could talk to me...and he was merely using Lithke as a deniable probe of my ideology, looking for a like-minded individual.
I could be wrong, it could just be conjectures, knowing how inane this universe was at first glance. But just in case, I decided to play ball.
"Lithke...you've been quite enlightening so far.. However, I am soon to launch the plan to get me back to Earth, according to all the chatter I'm hearing elsewhere, and will have to bring this conversation to a stop." Lithke looked dejected at that, his urge to continue wholesale telling me of the Dominion clearly disrupted by such a statement. "But... I would like to speak to your Chief Hunter Isif when I eventually make it back to Earth. Could you set that up for me?"
Lithke's eyes widened. Perhaps he thought something was getting through. I wouldn't dissuade his little fantasy for now. It could perhaps be torn apart later, but I would rather get to the bottom of this potential lead on The Dominion's actions in Sol.
"I will do so, Red One. Lithke out."
And just like that, the feed cut. That game could perhaps be continued later, but now, I turned my attention to what should come next. Ignition.
I will be home soon, humanity. I can only hope Hailey's trust was not misplaced.
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Weekend & Multi-Day Events
May 13-19 Dallas is Lit (Literary Festival) at multiple Oak Cliff venues
May 16-19 DSO: Rachmaninoff Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini at the Meyerson
May 17-18 Dallas Black Dance Theatre Spring Celebration at Wyly Theatre
May 17-19 Wildflower! Music and Arts Festival at Galatyn Park Urban Center, Richardson
May 17-19 Main Street Fest - A Craft Brew Experience at Historic Downtown Grapevine
May 17-25 Now THAT’s What I Call TV Improv 90s Sitcom at Stomping Ground Comedy
May 18-19 Black Heritage Celebration at the Dallas Arboretum
Through May 27 Scarborough Renaissance Festival, Waxahachie
Through May 18 Fannie: The Music and Life of Fannie Lou Hamer at Bishop Arts Theater Ctr
Through May 25 Echo Theatre: Beyond the Yellow Wallpaper at the Bath House Cultural Center
Through Jun 9 Hamilton at Winspear Opera House
May 17-June 1 Teatro Dallas: Cloud Tectonics at the Latino Cultural Center
*May 11- May 24 Women in Art – A Joyful Journey Exhibition at Art on Main
*Through May 19 The Art of Embroidery from India to the World at NorthPark Center
*Through June 28 Central Library Staff Art Exhibit at Dallas Public Library Central Branch
Monday, May 13
Dallas Mavericks vs. OKC Thunder: Playoffs Round 2 Game 4 at AAC
Dallas Stars vs. Colorado Avalanche Watch Party at Shark Club Sports Bar and Grill
Texas Rangers vs. vs. Cleveland Guardians at Globe Life Field, Arlington
British Film Institute Book Club Presents: Mean Streets at Texas Theatre
“Spider Mondays” The Amazing Spider-Man 2 on 35MM at Texas Theatre
Augustana: Something Beautiful Tour with Valley Boy at Club Dada
*Ryan Glenn at Truck Yard Dallas
*Music Bingo at Guitars and Growlers, Richardson
*Songwriter's Open Mic Hosted by Justin Collins at Dan's Silverleaf, Denton
*Poor David’s Pub Virtual Open Mic on Facebook Live
Tuesday, May 14
Texas Rangers vs. vs. Cleveland Guardians at Globe Life Field, Arlington
*10-Year Destination Master Plan Community Town Hall - West/South Dallas at West Dallas Multipurpose Center
Dallas Winds Concert: In This Circle at the Meyerson Symphony Center
*--Free Rooftop Movie: Easy A at Sundown at Granada
The Variety Show with The Lost Boy Presents at Arts Mission Oak Cliff
Jimmy Gnecco of Ours at Opening Bell Coffee
Qveen Herby at House of Blues
*Book Presentation: An Evening with Andrés Neuman at The Wild Detectives
*Book Signing and Discussion - Jannese Torres: Financially Lit at Interabang Books
*--W.O.W. (Words Over Wine) Poetry Open Mic at Chocolate Secrets
*Just Dance Series - Salsa Lessons at Harwood Park
*Indian Cultural Heritage Foundation Dance performance at Pleasant Grove Branch Library
Wednesday, May 15
Dallas Stars vs. Colorado Avalanche: Round 2 Game 5 At American Airlines Center
Texas Rangers vs. vs. Cleveland Guardians at Globe Life Field, Arlington
Dallas Wings vs. Chicago Sky at College Park Center, Arlington
10-Year Destination Master Plan Community Town Hall - North Dallas at Prism Center
Dallas Architecture Forum Presents: Brian MacKay-Lyons at Dallas Museum of Art
*--Salsa Night/Beginner’s Lessons at Vidorra Dallas
Transformers: 40th Anniversary Event at Texas Theatre
*Nerd Night: Old School Video Games at Celestial Beerworks
*Pat Peterson at The Kitchen Cafe
Swingin' at the Sons at Sons of Hermann Hall
Piano Men: An Elton John & Billy Joel Tribute at Sky Blu Rooftop
Daniel Sloss: Can't at The Majestic
*--Improv Jam at Dallas Comedy Club
Part One Tribe - A $7.77 Show at Deep Ellum Art Co.
3-course Beer Pairing Dinner at Windmills, The Colony
Thursday, May 16
10-Year Destination Master Plan Community Town Hall - East Dallas at Harry Stone Rec Center
Dallas Zoo After Dark Wild Canvas at the Dallas Zoo
*Bombshell Dance Project Performance at Dallas Museum of Art
*Kaleta Doolin in Conversation on Feminist Art History at Dallas Museum of Art
Maifest at the Brewery at Community Beer Co.
Analog Art Show at Flea the Scene
Sip & Paint at Aloft Dallas Downtown
Murder Mystery 3-Course Dinner at Bourbon and Banter
*PNC Patio Sessions - Pretty Boy Aaron at Sammons Park
*Books Signing and Discussion - Noah Gittel, Baseball: The Movie at Interabang Books
The Rhinestone Teardrops Tour at Three Links
Michelle Wolf: It's Great to Be Here at House of Blues
David Slater and Veronica Williams at Sammons Center for the Arts
*Adult Coloring at Mountain Creek Branch Library
HipHop & Healing at Highland Hills Branch Library
Master Gardeners: Taking the Mystery Out of Plant Propagation at Lakewood Branch Library
59th Academy of Country Music Awards at Ford Center at The Star, Frisco
Friday, May 17
Texas Rangers vs. Los Angeles Angels at Globe Life Field
*‘til Midnight at the Nasher Sculpture Center
*--DJ Binosaur at Vector Brewing
Backyard Concert: Meridian Brothers and Elkin Pautt at The Wild Detectives
*Booker T. Washington HSPVA Singer-Songwriters at Opening Bell Coffee
Cinéwilde Presents: The Matrix at Texas Theatre
Larry g(ee) EP Release with Dezi 5 and Cozy Campos at The Kessler
Girls' Night Out Stand-up Comedy Showcase at Dallas Comedy Club
Nimesh Patel: Fast and Loose Tour at the Majestic Theatre
The Reverent Few / Joe Blow / The Brandon Callies Band at The Double Wide
Chap Stick (Cheap Trick Tribute) at Sundown at Granada
*Trey Gonzalez at The Rustic
Dallas Poetry Slam 30th Anniversary Showcase at Oak Cliff Assembly
Aaron Aryanpur Live at the Oak Cliff Cultural Center
Saturday, May 18
Texas Rangers vs. Los Angeles Angels at Globe Life Field
Dallas Wings vs. Chicago Sky at College Park Center, Arlington
Ultimate Frisbee Dallas Legion vs. Houston HAVOC at Jesuit Dallas
*Cycling: Group Ride at Community Beer Co.
Morning Bird Walk at Trinity River Audubon Center
*AAPI Heritage & Dragon Boat Festival at the Bath House Cultural Center
Art Talk: Laure de Margerie at the Nasher Sculpture Center
Discover Downtown Dallas Movie Series: Sweet Home Alabama at Harwood Park
9th Anniversary Brewery Fest at Texas Ale Project
*Pawty on the Patio with Golden Retriever Rescue at On Rotation
*Asian Am., Native Hawaiian, & Pacific Islander Heritage Celebration at AT&T Discovery District
*AAPI Family Weekend at Sammons Park (Dallas Arts District)
Hope Starts Here 5K at Klyde Warren Park
Deep Ellum Wine Walk: Rosé Olé at Discover Deep Ellum
*Conversation and Party: Colombe Schneck and Merrit Tierce at The Wild Detectives
*Art Exhibitions Opening Event at Ro2 Art
*Analog Art Show at Flea the Scene
6th Annual Adult Science Fair at Celestial Beerworks
Andrea Gonzalez Caballero Spanish Guitar Concert at Kalita Humphreys Theater
Pepe Aguilar at American Airlines Center
Sunday, May 19
Texas Rangers vs. Los Angeles Angels at Globe Life Field
Dallas Jackals vs. Seattle Seawolves at Choctaw Stadium, Arlington
State Fair Records: Songwriters Round on The Green at The Kessler
*En Plein Air Painting Demonstration at the Dallas Museum of Art
Dilbeck Architecture Conservancy Homes Tour at University Park
K Pop Music Bingo Brunch at the Sweet Tooth Hotel
Abducted By The 80's at House of Blues
Paint and Sip at Peticolas Brewing
Turtle Creek Chorale: Pages at Northaven United Methodist Church
*Cars for CASA Car Show at Rockwall Courthouse, Rockwall

Bretonnian Guide Blood Bowl 2
Foreword
I know that Bloodbowl 3 is out, however, my league has not transitioned to BB3 yet since all the races have not been released. We are in our leagues 5th season right now. It is a small league, but the players are all great and there is a great discord. We recently required all coaches to start over with a new team last season at TV1000. I like the aesthetic of Bretonnia, so I selected them. Now that I have 11 games under my belt with them, I thought I might take a stab at a new updated guide. The one that google likes to point me to is from 5 years ago. Whats better than updated content for a game that is dead lmao. Anyway, for any new coaches interested in Bretonnia, here are my thoughts. Let me know what you think if youd like to.
Roster Breakdown

Positional Name	Value	MA	ST	AG	AV	Skills	Skill Tree
Blitzer	110,000	7	3	3	8	Block, Catch, Dauntless	Agility, Passing, General
Blocker	70,000	6	3	3	8	Wrestle	Strength
Lineman	40,000	6	3	2	7	Fend	General

Bretonnian Offensive/Defensive Scheme

• Offense: Heavy Screen Dependent Rushing Attack with handoff play opportunity.
• Defense: Heavy Screen Defense that is highly reliant on efficient player marking and restricting opponent player movement.

Offensive Philosophy and Playstyle:

• Bretonnia is a rushing attack focused offense. They cannot reliably utilize a passing scheme on offense without substantial skill improvements to Blitzers. In most cases the opportunity cost associated with specializing passing Blitzers is too high to consider, as there are far more valuable skills available. You will be scoring touchdowns by forcing gaps in an opponents secondary and creating protected running lanes.
• The closest to a passing attack that Bretonnian teams have is the Blitzer handoff. Utilizing the catch skill, Blitzers can reliably hand off the ball to other blitzers to exploit massive running lanes if set up correctly. A handoff play has potential to cover 18 squares of space if utilized to full extent.
• Mobility is all important. You do not want your players marking an opponent unnecessarily. Freedom of movement lets you sustain your screen and drive the ball reliably. If your opponent is able to successfully box you in, Bretonnia has few reliable options to escape, this will result in stalled drives or turnovers. Prioritize freedom of movement for your players whenever possible.
• Unlike more bashier teams, you will find that the standard 4 player cage, slowly advancing up the field, will prove ineffective on offense. The Bretonnian roster simply is not strong enough, or durable enough, to do this without sacrificing players. Resorting to traditional 4 player cages on offense will result in your opponent boxing you in and smothering you.
• Effective screening will focus on establishing a wedge in the pitch between you and your opponent. All Bretonnian offensive moves should be focused on shifting this wedge / line in relation to the drive. If performed correctly, there should be a clear line made up of your players that divides the pitch. Your objective is to bottle your opponent on the far side of the pitch away from your ball carrier. As the drive progresses, this line will move and shift. A line should always extend past blitz threat of your opponent to your ball carrier. This line does not need to be constant. You can effectively keep two space gaps between your players and maintain an effective screen. (At the risk of being two die blitzed)
• Bretonnia is highly dependent on pitch control, maintaining a solid offensive line, utilizing tackle zones properly, and taking strategic 2 die blocks with your blitzers. With the skills Fend and Wrestle, your positionals can prevent your opponent from breaking your line or blitzing around an exposed wing.
• Pace of game is highly important in all bloodbowl games. If playing skaven team, Bretonnian teams do not want to score quickly. If playing dwarves, the risk of an opponent td is less. Game Pace changes each match and should be considered in all scoring decisions.
• Bretonnian Average Score per match: 1.00

Defensive Philosophy and Playstyle:

• A defensive screen is your primary defensive scheme. A guide to Defensive Screens in Bloodbowl: Here is a link detailing the inns and outs of defensive screens in Bloodbowl. There are other resources available too and some helpful videos easily available on youtube. Just search them. Screening can also be called Tackle Zone Defense. Essentially, Bretonnian defense is focused on maintaining 1 square gap distance from opponents when possible or unless it would be better to engage. (such as putting a guard blocker on a line enabling support for two blocks) Bretonnian Defensive scheme should focus on forcing your opponent to play patient and account for your tackle zones. Eventually they will make a mistake or leave an opening. When this oppening presents itself, you can exploit it with a blitz from a Blitzer.
• Cage Breaking is difficult until sufficient guard is on the team. Instead, you will likely attack the ball carrier using gap blitzes from your blitzers. With MA 7 these players, at the right time, can often manuever around an entire cage and hit the ball carrier.
• If you have an opening to attack the ball carrier with a blitzer or blocker, it is probably a good idea to do so even on a one die block. If you break a cage and free the ball, it is often a good idea to push opponent players onto the ball to scatter is. Low AGI teams might scatter the ball all the way to your line. At best this incites chaos.
• Despite wanting to bash, Bretonnian teams should take a page from elf playbooks. On defense you should limit blocks sustained at all times. You are not a high armor team especially starting out. All positionals have value and a removal impacts your teams ability to play defense.
• For passing scheme teams, it is adviseable that Bretonnian teams prioritize deep threat receivers when possible. Without much tackle, and with many catchers having access to blodge, these players can withstand multiple blocks and can easily dodge away at high probability roles. It is probably more efficient to remove a threatened receiver than it is to hit a high value player that is not impacting the current play. If a block is not possible, mark them on top and bottom to impose maximum tackle zones. Blockers are effective blitzers against blodge/dodge ball carriers.
• You must walk the tight rope of being too aggressive and too cautious with Blitzers. You must use them to win, however, if youre too aggressive they can be swallowed up and removed, either from injury or from marking. Additionally, you cannot be too cautious with them because the other two positionals are not enough to win on their own. Aggressively take optimal blitzes with your blitzers, and pull them back into a place where they have support.
• Blitzers make excellent safeties due to their movement. Always keep at least one safety and swing that safety as the offense shifts. If your opponent is attacking a wing, move your safety to the second furthest square to discourage dodge dive bombs. On the subject of safeties, it will not cost you the game if you decided to be extra cautious and pull a second safety when needed.
• Do not over extend players. Focus on maintaining your screen and coordinating with all other players on the team. No one is a lone hero for this team. What might look like an open gap to your opponents backline might instead be a trap hoping to isolate your invaluable blitzer. Remember, piece removal is not only in injury or casualty. If a zombie pins my blitzer against a sideline preventing me from standing him up and moving or else he will be pushed out, that is as good as a knock out or at the least a stun that might last multiple turns.
• Mobility is key to Bretonnian defense. Free players enable you to adjust the screen.
• A very common Bretonnian tactic is using lineman to foul players at optimal times. A stun on a ghoul in exchange for a 40k lineman is an efficient trade. This requires having one free lineman linebacker.

Screening and Ball Protection:

• On Offense, if you are reliably able to control the center 5 spaces of the pitch you should always do so when a drive starts. Unless it’s a bashier team, you will probably have the opportunity to two die block the 3 lineman your opponent has setup. Always take these 3 free blocks if you can. Always stay put when blocking to maintain your line.
• Center pitch control is vital until you have selected a running lane or identified a weakness in your opponents defense.
• Your focus on ball protection is on screening. Start thinking about your players as their 9 square tackle zones instead of their one space they occupy. It is far more valuable to screen a wing, or secure a section of the pitch with your tackle zones than sacrificing them to cage up. (This of course has exceptions).
• Utilize your blockers effectively to set up two die blocks on running lane gaps (e.g. blitzing this player on the wing frees up a lane).
• If you have secured your rushing lane and can reliably send lineman, blitzers, or blockers through it to lock down more pitch, you should do so. Your focus should always be on mobility and freedom of movement, which means you must secure the necessary pitch area to ensure you can move forward.
• When a running lane has been exploited, if you have available players you should take marks that limit mobility of opposing players ability to react to your shift.

Advice on throwing blocks playing as Bretonnia:

• You do not want to be rolling dice unnecessarily. You should only be taking 1-2 blocks a play on average unless you are more risk taking. These blocks should always be two-die blocks made with either a blocker or a blitzer. (This is probably just general bloodbowl advice)
• Be aware of how your players will be pushing the opponent. Do not push opponents into your teammates unless it’s a strategic decision (such as securing the two die or eliminating a player from moving). The last thing you want to do is lock up a blocker or a lineman because you made a mistake in your push. It is usually better to stay put on a block than follow up.
• Having your player free for its next move is far more important than marking a player or getting into a scrum where you are not actually contributing to block strength. It might sound like common sense but its important especially for Bretonnian teams.

Using the Bretonnian Roster Positional Playstyles and Advice
Blitzer:

• Your blitzer is your primary ball carrier, blitzer, big guy blocker, and overall work horse for your team. It is hard to express how valuable they are to Bretonnian teams in a quantifiable way. Id say you would have a 5-10% increased chance of losing that compounds with each Blitzer you lose. Losing a Blitzer is also not just to removal. As I said earlier, if you overextend a Blitzer and get him stuck in the backfield or on the other side of the pitch trapped by opponents, that is a removal. (You should always view it this way). I have over-extended my Blitzers multiple times, it has always cost me the drive. (Recency bias be damned)
• Your Blitzers will consume all of your teams SPP. In Warhammer lore the questing knight is consumed with dreams of glory and honor and is full of pomp and swagger. This is true of Bloodbowl Blitzers too. Try to balance out SPP gain if you can, but eventually your true star player will emerge. And one day nuffle will take him from you. Below I talk about leveling the Blitzer. You can specialize them if you want.
• Far more important than taking blocks with them, or taking marks, is making sure they are highly mobile and in the game. They should be positioned in spaces that allow the Blitzer to always have an impact on the game, be it a key block or a blitz on the ball carrier, or even acting caustiously and dropping back into a safety role. If your Blitzer is marked on an opposing player and he does not have a 2 die block, or he is not supporting another block, he is out of position. With dodge, you can escape more reliably, but until then, Dodge actions are high risk maneuvers for Bretonnian teams. Do not let your Blitzer be caught. If they lock you up, they are playing you well. (As you all are probably aware, you will certainly fail that dodge re-roll that you needed to pass. Im pretty sure its in the source code of the game. )
• It is imperative that you always put your Blitzer in a position where he can be supported, or he can withdraw into protection. There may be times where you feel you have access to a wing that allows you to deep blitz your Blitzer behind their lines. This is almost always a trap. (Unless its not ). Do not run a single unprotected blitzer behind lines to threaten the ball unless it’s a meaningful threat. Do not move a blitzer into a zone where he is going to receive a 2 die standing block immediately next turn. Be selective about this. They are AV 8 so they are relatively durable, and they will get dodge after a few games making them durable, but you really cannot afford to lose a Blitzer. That should be seared into your mind.
• Dauntless is the most fun skill in the game. Who cares if its not as efficient as 4 str. It kicks ass and you should always expect to succeed a Dauntless check. (Provided you have block support. Don’t throw a dauntless block on a 6 str player by yourself). You effectively have 4-5 Str with Blitzers. Not on defense, but as we said earlier, you wont need to worry about that if you play them right. Your Blitzers are confident, swagged out, glory hogs. You know they would never doubt that Dauntless check, you shouldn't either.
• Catch is a mostly useless skill, until its not. And boy oh boy is it impactful when you utilize it. Catch unlocks the Blitzer handoff. Unlock some elf bullshit on your team by properly spacing blitzers and initiating a handoff. You can cover 18 squares in a turn. A point of order, always hand-off, never throw. Don’t rush your blitzer into the endzone in hopes of catching a pass. Hand off the ball first then run into the endzone.
• Blitzers are excellent Safeties. If youre line is breaking down, pull a blitzer back 3-4 squares. His MA lets him get back if you need him too. When in doubt, pull back into safety position.
• Blitzers are not great against dodge teams or stunty. You will just push them around. When blitzing dodge ball carriers, use a blocker.
• Powing a troll, or a mummy, or an opponents big guy is extremely useful. Don’t forget you have dauntless. (Worth restating)
• I rarely see players do this, but don’t forget you can blitz with the ball carrier. Blitzers can handle themselves. If you need to create separation from a mark, blitz the opposing player, and move away. Remember you cannot throw or hand off after a blitz.
• Take Block / Wrestle blocks first, before unskilled blocks.

Blocker

• These guys are the squires to your questing knights (blitzers). What do squires do? They support the knights. That’s what Blockers will mostly be doing. You will really start cooking when you get 3-4 guard on them. Blockers should always be kept free if possible, and then moved into a position to support a two die block. If you can avoid marking a player to keep freedom of movement, that will often serve you better. Blockers are like NFL Guards. Pull them and force open a lane on a wing with their support. Here is some Terron Armstead highlights to inspire your pulling and blocking ideas..
• They are Strength tree level ups, which means you will instinctively want to pow with them. Mighty Blow is right there! You need to grab it. Temper that urge. These guys primary use is supporting blocks. A one die block with them is not nearly as useful as setting the edge of a wing, or forward securing a running lane, or providing their support to essential blocks that open lanes. Additional level ups should focus on improving their ability to set an edge or form a line or a screen or support a block. Something like stand firm to control pitch, or Grab to move an opponent into an ideal tackle zone. Or even Fend, the thematic skill of Bretonnia. (More in level up guide below)
• 8 Armor is serviceable. After your first few games which had more lineman, when you have a full roster of Blitzers and Blockers your survivability will increase dramatically. You should no longer be experiencing 2-4 removals once your Blocker depth chart is filled. If you get the chance to Armor up, id highly consider it. You can plant your guard armor up on the line and hes a black orc.
• If your opponents ball carrier is a dodge/stunty, your blockers shift priority. Wrestle counters dodge and block. Blockers should be used for agi team ball carrier blitzes. It might also be worth keeping a blocker safety in these cases. They arent as fast as Blitzers, so just keep that in mind.
• That one die block with wrestle is overall somewhat safe. I regularly skull re-roll into skull, but it is what it is. If you need to take it, take it.
• General Advice: Take Block / Wrestle blocks first, before unskilled blocks.

Lineman:

• The lowly Peasant. Only 40k Price Point. My initial thought was man these guys suck ass. That was 10 games ago. These are actually extremely useful positionals. Yes they are low armor. Yes they have 2 agility. But Fend is a skill that no-one thinks to take, but I promise it will frustrate your opponent. Lineman are great for cages. They are great for forward securing a running lane. They are great on the line of an initial turn 1 drive. If they survive the block, they will be free to move afterwards and you can begin setting your edge or building a screen.
• One tip I find regularly is to use lineman as foulers. 40k is often a great trade for an opposing player if a foul can remove a piece or stun them. (A stun is a 1 turn removal). If youre of the fouling disposition, keep a lineman as a linebacker with free movement and use a foul at the end of your turn. (Foul all ghouls on site). I personally did not make them foulers, I tend to prefer a mark or block support.
• I provided level up guides below, but honestly, I imagine each bretonnian player uses lineman differently. Be explorative with them.
• I love using lineman to forward block segments of the pitch I want to run to. If the opponent left a wing open that you can exploit, send a lineman up there and secure 9 spaces of tackle zones for your team. If they blitz the lineman, fend will stop them and you will still have the pitch area to your self.
• Under no circumstances use a lineman as a ball carrier, receiver, or blitzer for essential blocks unless you must. They are called peasants in tabletop. Peasants cant handle that responsibility.
• I keep 1-2 extra lineman in reserve on my roster. I remove them if I need to lower petty cash for opponent. Its easy to buy them back. Having full 11 man roster is worth it, even if they arent especially skilled.
• A 40k peasant marking a valuable opponent piece on the edge of a map is an extremely efficient piece trade. If an opponent deep line blitzed you or sent a lone player down a lane, mark it with a lineman in the best way possible. If you can keep that player there multiple turns, you are winning the efficiency battle.

Starting Roster – 1000 TV
I couldn't find a consensus Bretonnian starting Roster. This is what I used for my team and in my ladder games. Naturally YMMV. It uses full 1000 TV. Unfortunately, you will need to endure 1-2 games without an Apothecary. Hopefully you don't lose a Blitzer. Personally, I would not do less than 3 re-rolls, especially starting out. You will need to dodge more than you like and you will likely have to take 1 die blocks more than you'd like. At one point I had failed 6 straight dodge attempts with my ball carrier in 4 games. I've rolled one-dies into skulls more than I can count. You want re-rolls. There is an argument for buying the Apothecary and taking 3 blitzers but truthfully you want a full depth chart of blitzers immediately. I either lost or tied a majority of my games season 1 and led the league in casualty differential. Id expect that is common.

1. 4 Blitzers
2. 2 Blockers
3. 5 Linemen
4. 3 Re-Rolls
5. 1 Fan Factor
6. No Apothecary

Some stream of consciousness thoughts on how to play your first 2-5 games:

• You want to purchase all the Blitzers you can at the first TV 1000 setup. The Blitzers are the most essential piece. You can make due with 2 blockers and 5 lineman for your first game or two. Your first game has the potential to be expensive if nuffle blesses you with an injured/killed blitzer. If that’s what happens, it was Nuffles will.
• With 5 lineman you will be quite fragile. Mighty Blow teams like Undead with the Mummy will cause a casualty on most pows. Expect to lose 2-4 players on average. If you are confident in your screening, offense first might be ideal. You will get more resilient as you build your roster, these first games are tough.
• Remember not to isolate your Blitzers or leave them in a position to be blocked. If you lose a Blitzer with this starting roster, or even get him trapped on the wrong side of the pitch marked, your team will lose significant effectiveness. (cannot be understated) If you are questioning if your move will leave you in a position that has a likely chance of impacting your Blitzer, you should opt for the more conservative approach. (I.e. There is nothing wrong with moving a Blitzer back as a safety instead of getting him in a scrum.) Blitzers have 7 MA, so they can reliably swing to each side of the pitch if needed. When you take your blitz, if there’s an opportunity to move back and hide behind a screen, you should do so.
• For teams with ball carriers with dodge or block, do not forget the value of Wrestle. Normally you wont be blitzing with blockers, however, if you need to sack a ball carrier with block or dodge, it is better to blitz with wrestle.
• In this starting roster you only have 2 blockers. These players are actually extremely valuable. They don’t have guard yet, but they are the only players outside of blitzers that have a safe block (both down doesn’t result in turnover). They also have more armor than lineman. Keep them center pitch, keep them in positions where they can move into a 2 die support. Try to get them in a position where they can take a standing two die block. You want these guys leveling up as soon as you can so you can start getting guard.
• Lineman are effective cages/screens due to fend. Two lineman on a cage that is along the sideline will reliably protect the ball carrier. Feel confident in moving a lineman into an open pitch area to secure a running lane. If they cant support a two die block, they should be in a screen position. Do not put them in a scrum unless the mark is benefiting the block. (e.g. if you move into a square with two adjacent opponents, recognize that you aren’t adding any value).
• A proper screen is two squares away from another player. Two lineman two squares apart protect 18 squares just between those two, and with fend you can reliably put them in positions without support. A lineman is extremely valuable despite its price point. Start thinking in tackle zones and you will exploit their strength.
• In these starting games you will often be in a position to throw a 2 die block without wrestle/block. This is actually riskier than you think. If there is an essential block that needs to happen for your move to work, throw that block before you use your re-roll. Always take blocks with players with block/wrestle before unskilled blocks.
• A free lineman can be an efficient use of a foul. At 40k price they should be cheaper than all players on pitch. If there is a ghoul in your back line, or a wardancer that failed a leap, a 72% chance foul could be extremely valuable. Just be sure its your last move.
• On offense, be aware of your Blitzers positioning. In the event you need it, the bretonnian handoff is a great play that can result in 18 squares of movement if you need it. If you push your blitzer ball carrier up a wing, and your opponent reacts well enough that you are doubtful of your lane, do not hesitate to move backwards. If you can keep a blitzer within 7 squares of your ball carrier, they are a reliable dump off escape. This is the reason the catchers have catch.
• Cannot be overstated – Blitzers are life.
• On defense, despite being built as a bashy team, they should be played like elves. Endeavor to keep 1 square distance between you and your opponent. If you can keep your opponent to one block per turn (blitz) you are playing efficiently.
• Dauntless is one of the most fun skills in the game. Blitzers with dauntless can reliably take down 4-5 str opponents with only one supporting player on the block. It is ok to use re-rolls on dauntless. When playing an undead team you can make their mummy’s lives hell all game. You will reliably succeed on a dauntless role against 4 str opponents. With one support that is a two die block. Dauntless is offense only. Do not forget that.
• When you are attempting a dodge, take a deep breath and look at your field. Did you pick up everyone? Have you taken all wrestle/block 2 die blocks? Are your running lanes secured? Do you have a safety that can hit the left or right wing reliably? Are your blitzers in a good position? Have you taken all low risk moves? If yes to all this, attempt the dodge (it will fail all the time lmao) This is good advice for all risky moves actually.

Building up the roster
Level Up Guide
Some thoughts on leveling your roster. These aren’t for sure the best choices, they are what I did or have been thinking about.
Blitzer

1. All blitzers should get dodge as their first skill.
2. Sidestep on your ball carrier is such a badass skill. Sidelines are now safe. You can protect your ball carrier with a 2 person cage on a sideline with sidestep.
3. I put Sure Hands on my primary ball carrier. Dodge and Sure Hands make contested free balls a tasty opportunity to capitalize on.
4. You should specialize your blitzers if you can. Ball Carry Specialization, Blitz Specialization, Ball-Carrier Attack Specialization, Safety / Deep Blitzing Specialization. These are all possibilities. (I haven’t gotten past level 4 on my main blitzer, these are untested and just thoughts)

• Ball Carry: Dodge, Sidestep, Sure Hands
• Blitz: Dodge, Frenzy, Tackle, Jump Up
• Safety: Dodge, Diving Tackle/Tackle, Sure Feet, Jump Up/Sprint
• Ball Carrier Attack: Dodge, Sidestep, Tackle, Strip Ball

1. Theres also nothing wrong with 2-3 blitzers with dodge and tackle. Bread and butter wins games. All depends on your league.
2. If you roll doubles or get a characteristic up you should prioritize: Str+, MA+, Mighty Blow (on blitz specialty). I have seen piling on but I don’t like the thought of putting a blitzer on the ground willingly.

Blocker:

1. a. Blocker Standard: Guard, Stand Firm / Grab / Fend / Dauntless. For the second skill it just your preference – do you prefer pitch control or blocking.
2. i. I would probably go Guard, Dauntless, Fend but I have not tested.
3. ii. For Doubles, etc: Str+, Ar+, Dodge
4. b. All blockers first skill should be Guard.

Lineman

1. a. There are a lot of things you can do with linman if youre lucky with an MVP or injury. There is no standard choice, with lineman you should kinda go with your gut.
2. b. If you use your lineman to foul, pick up sneaky git or dirty player, whichever your preference (just be sure you are using it!).
3. c. I personally went with Kick/Wrestle on one, and Block on another. The block has been useful for pows.
4. d. Kick is sneaky useful, however, it throws off standard defense formations as you need your lineman off the line and not in a wing. This makes you place a blocker on the line, a high risk block unfortunately. Overall I think the tradeoff has been worth it in my season. If you hit lvl 3 on a lineman, you have been playing a while and idk, do what you think is best.

Managing Team and Roster Game 1 and onwards

• First purchase is Apothecary. Scrutanize its use carefully. Never use it on a lineman. Rarely use it on a blocker (I had to apo my guard blocker cause he would have lost an armor. That is an acceptable apo). Apothecary’s should be used on Blitzers. I think its safe to use it even if no permanent injury to keep your team at 4 blitzers per match. You of course risk losing another blitzer at another point in game, but that’s nuffle’s will. You also risk the re-roll into death which has happened in our league twice in 5 seasons.
• Prioritize recruitment of blockers. You want to fully fill the team with blockers.
• * I sift between a bench of 1-2 lineman extra. I will sell it against a non-bash team to reduce TV, or I will buy an extra against Bashy teams expecting removals. I have only needed more than 2 reserves one time. It adds 80k TV to have two which are babes or a re-roll or wizard if your opponent dips into his treasury. 2 reserves feels good for TV 1000-1600 (I am 1640)
• TV Management is tough for Bretonnian teams. I personally purchased a 4th re-roll for 140k. I like re-rolls. You can make do with 3. I wouldn’t do less than that. You should be mitigating petty cash to your opponent at all times.
• Keep a reserve of 80-150k at all times. Nuffle will one day take from you a beloved blitzer. You need to replace it by the next game.
• I haven’t upgraded my stadium. Idk if its worth 200k investment.
• I don’t really see benefit of cheerleaders or coaching staff. If anyone can claim otherwise, please comment.

Final Thoughts:

• I have played multiple seasons of Wood Elves and Bretonnian. I find Bretonnian more satisfying. Their player noises are hilarious. Their aesthetic is badass (The blitzers have full body length tassels from their helmets).
• Their playstyle is not straight forward and is rewarding if you execute.
• The team is not the highest tier, it doesn’t take advantage of game mechanics or feel cheap.
• Opponents never feel like they are in an unfair game or that im overpowered.
• Bretonnian don’t get many injuries or player removals, but the offset of that is my opponents are always in a good mood throughout the game. (Usually)
• Dauntless is the most satisfying skill in the game.
• Their offensive scheme of Rushing Attack Screens scratches all my NFL itches. True blocking and tackling and running. It feels great when you forward think a move that leads to a running lane you can exploit.
• Don’t read into internet hate on the team. Its not really that bad.
• These are just my opinions and shouldnt be taken as gospel. I havent won my league championship yet, so what do I know. It was just an attempt to put a guide out there since there arent many.**

TL:DR:
Bretonnian are a challenging and satisfying blood bowl team that utilizes a screen and pitch control focused running scheme on offense. On defense, the team focuses on defensive screens, positioning, and pitch control. If you like having Glory Hog Star Players, a Crusade Era Aesthetic, Taking down opponents much bigger than you, and playing smash mouth football, this team might be for you.
This is not a straight forward pow team. Its not an agility team. Its in between. Additionally, they might not be beginner friendly as they require extensive understanding of tackle zones and block support.
On Offense, This team will have trouble winning if they resort to traditional 4 man cage offensive scheme, like Khemri or Orcs, as they do not have the means of standing toe to toe with true bash teams, despite how much they want to. Despite no passing threat, Bretonnian Coaches can employ electric hand off plays to cover a vast amount of pitch in a single turn that can result in scoring plays worthy of a highlight reel to be talked about by your league mates.
On Defense, This team achieves winning results if they employ a patient screen and pitch control defensive scheme. Bretonnian rosters must work in tandem with each other to lock up running/passing lanes and restrict opponent movement in hopes of getting them to make a mistake or leave an opening. When an opening is identified, Bretonnian teams can plunge their Blitzers into opponents cage or back fields and wreak havoc.
Personally, I find them to be extremely fun and suggest you ignore the internet hate (perhaps hate is strong) and give em a shot. It will take a few games to get acclimated, but I imagine they will grow on you quickly.
Thank you for reading!
Thank you for reading, if you got this far. This was my first attempt at making a team guide. I hoped to both educate newcomer players on the team tactics and inspire discussion about a team that I have some trouble finding forum discussion on. I know BB2 is not current rn, but it runs great and having all the teams really sells it. Personally I think the UI is better in 2 also, but perhaps I am just used to it.
Would love to hear your thoughts if you have any, or helpful criticisms. Hopefully I was able to communicate effectively here and help some newcomers out.

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

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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Memory transcription subject: Adjek, Venlil Space Corps Engineer
Date [standardized human time]: October 21, 2136
Please, for the love of the Great Protector, do not make me do this...
It was bad enough to be literally surrounded by the Arxur, waiting for them to pounce on us the moment the humans stop keeping a close eye on us, but now on top of that WE'RE BEING SENT TO THE BRAHKING SHIP?
The same ship that utterly annihilated a Federation fleet some fourteen-thousand strong when they reached Earth! While half-damaged too if sensors were anything to go by! I didn't want to get within a lightyear of that monstrosity...
But here we are, a collection of 'engineers, soldiers, and pilots' that were rounded up, needed for a recovery of the thing! I could not figure why the humans were so blatantly incapable of making a remotely safe decision for once.
Why couldn't we just let it drift off into the nothingness or something? Get it out of our fur!
Well, the answer to that was apparently some vyalpic fed to the Venlil Space Corps about 'friendly contact' with the ship. There were some ideas brought to the engineering crews on how to move something as large as it at sublight velocities from their outer planets to Earth.
They were absurd of course. The most realistic one still involved fastening a bunch of cargo haulers to the terror of a ship to act as a set of main thrusters, but even that came with problems, like how do you weld to something that can shrug off nuclear blasts? Or how do you not crash into said ship while trying to fasten it?!
And the worst part? I think it was actually a deliberated-on plan. We weren't going to be able to craft the thing some new engines or a suitable hyperspace envelope on the fly, we didn't have a tug even remotely capable of moving the thing about, and we certainly weren't going to be able to push it with anything that wouldn't provoke a hostile response, but as they say, when you're soaked in Sunsap, even scissors seem appealing.
And so, with a prayer, a very specific IF tag, and a half-dozen miner and cargo freighters, a course plotted a course to the human's Neptune. The Arxur vessel alongside our did not help in the slightest either, but supposedly it carried the human that made contact, and would insure we don't get blown out of the sky for trying to pop in unannounced.
I took my seat in main engineering, relayed the captain's orders for subspace transition, and began the procedures.
Field envelope holding...jumping to subspace in three...two...one...
The jump felt like a mere momentary rumble, as these things do, but considering the distance involved, we were already likely in orbit of Neptune as we spoke. From my spare sensor terminal, I saw the emissions of the ship on the far side of the planet, just barely entering our view as we spoke.
I heard the very unpleasant sound of a dozen radar locks a moment later, however.
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
+HOSTILE CONTACT IDENTIFIED+
The Federation was here. As I circled Neptune, a group of ships matching the configurations of the Federation fleet in my memories made themselves known to me.
They were in extremely close range, and my weapons systems were still warming up. I would not be able to orient to fire with the least damaged particle beams, nor with disruptors. I had no missiles left, and the minor railgun munitions were frankly useless in this state. I nevertheless did all I could to find a quick solution.
Targeting locks sprung from every sensor array on me, clawing for firing solutions that would synchronously obliterate the small Federation group in front. As I listened in on other sets of sensor info, I was initially surprised to see an IF tag that was identical to that of the Snow Hidden, beamed across every ship in range.
What?
My particle beams were fully primed, lasers and masers came online, ready to fire at her command. But I hesitated...and hesitated. Waiting even further, I knew that I was in their effective weapons range, as close as they were, they could have fired by now if they had gotten the drop on myself like this. Why were they not firing?
The fleet transmissions between one another were not close-beamed, and I could hear the panicked bleats and cries of alien languages she did not have access to translation of.
Eventually, among the slow relative time of reality to her synthetic mind, I felt a comms ping from a small ship nestled within the formation. One I recognized the form and language of...
"NEMESIS! STAND DOWN! These are the help I mentioned, remember?!" Hailey Whitmer's voice screamed into the receiver, desperate to prevent a massacre.
Oh no...I nearly fired on human allies.
The active and passive radar locks were terminated, guns spooled down to idle rather than blazing red hot, as I quickly attempted to cool down the situation. These were the...Venlil Space Corps Hailey mentioned? Their ships were so incredibly similar to the Federation's that I nearly killed them for the resemblance. Then again, if they were once part of the Federation, its no wonder their patterns matched...
I quickly requested an active communication back to the Snow Hidden, intending to apologize for the mistake. "My apologies Snow Hidden, your group jumped into immediate close range of my vessel and I mistook them for Federation vessels. I acted out of immediate danger-"
"Red! You saw the Venlil ships above Earth, did you not? Why did you think they were Federation vessels?!"
I did?
I pooled through the memories of the Federation fleet engagement. The memories were fragmented, clearly indicative of my failed processing units during the time I was dreaming. But I watched back, looking at processing data of friendlies versus hostiles.
The human fleet and the Federation fleet were two clean bubbles of markers from one another, one circled around Earth in a clearly friendly protective gesture, the other outside its orbit, generally closing in. It...all checked out? The Federation vessels were a general mix of forms that looked extremely familiar to the Venlil vessels before her now, while the human side...
The...friendly side...
…Looked little different. There were a few vessels that were non-similar to the Federation standards in retrospect, they must have been human standard types, and the others are either loaned vessels from the Venlil, or built with the same specifications in mind.
Wait...I checked the Federation targeting bubble again.
A very bad feeling was coming to the forefront...
Combing through the side closest to Earth of the Federation fleet, I looked for ships that didn't match with the clear set of Federation vessel designs. While there were plenty of Federation vessels that were turned around towards the oncoming fleet, most matched the Federation standard to a small margin of error. But one internal process stumbled on a problem.
At this timestamp, a ship that was unlike the Federation's designs was within the hostile targeting bubble I assigned to the Compact Federation fleet. It looked more like...like the unconfirmed human designs.
+HOSTILE CONTACT IDENTIFIED+ rung in her memory post-processing unit.
No...no, no, no...
A mere moment later, one of her particle beams sliced cleanly into it at center mass. The ship detonated not long after, clearing hitting something volatile. The targeting subroutine, confirming the hit, moved on to the next target.
I killed my own creators.
I...killed...
+node j.0 coolant cycle halted, please restart-+
The shock doused my systems with a potent feeling: despair. One I hadn't felt as intensely since the days I failed to protect Earth, vastly overshadowed by the hatred that followed in those days.
More and more of those unconfirmed ships made themselves known in my memory, my systems flagging them as hostile amidst the chaos merely because they were too close to the Federation fleet I thought was Compact in my dreaming state.
I was forced to count each one. Forty-eight unconfirmed human ships. Dead by my hand. Another mistake.
Bulkheads groaned as I felt the urge to tear myself apart for such a failure, to not only not protect humanity, but to kill them en masse...
"I didn't know...I didn't know Hailey..."
"What? What do you mean you didn't...oh...ohhh noooo...you don't mean?-"
"...How many?" I asked, dejection laden throughout my synthesized voice.
She was silent for a moment. Far too long a moment. "...Fifty-six human and sixty-two Venlil ships. When I said we were terrified of you, it wasn't just out of awe, Red...you killed thousands. We didn't know why, it didn't make sense besides as a mistake, compared to the worst case scenario-"
My voice growled, pitch lowered in artificial hopelessness, a twisting pain flowing through my circuitry. "Not enough. How...many?"
I could hear a sigh in her voice. She did not want to say it.
"Last count between us was 9,095 human hands lost from your fire alone. I don't know the exact amount of Venlil lost, but it was likely in the 13,000 range."
What...what have I done?...
Memory transcription subject: Adjek, Venlil Space Corps Engineer
Date [standardized human time]: October 21, 2136
By the Great Protector, I was mortified. Whatever the human's play was to that ship, it stopped us from being eradicated in the follow up of the radar locks. I was terrified that at any moment the ship would be torn apart by its lasers, like it had done to many already.
There was more dialogue supposedly between the Snow Hidden and the ship, but it was tight beam, so we picked up nothing. I had come to learn the ship was called UECNS Nemesis. Given the translator told me that name belongs to a Human God of Revenge and Wrath, I didn't have high hopes for this fleet visit.
Why...why couldn't we have just left it alone?!
Every single fur on me was standing straight from the stress.
But eventually, we got the go-to to approach further. Supposedly, translators would need to be set automatically to whatever Human language they speak in order to converse back to the ship's inhabitants. I had no idea what was being said by our bridge back to the Nemesis down here, but I could assume the captain was not happy about being nearly fired on.
As we approached the outside, even our relatively large freighter looked hardly larger than a shuttle to the monstrous thing. It was like approaching an entire shipyard condensed into one massive ship.
I went to my quarters, and began to suit up for vacuum work, alongside Rulic and Merna. While our group were supposed to start at the inside of the ship due to briefing, there was no guarantee we wouldn't be tasked to areas without atmosphere, or outside the ship altogether for surface work. It was then that
Rulic decided to make small talk.
"So, Adjek, do you know anything about this...ship? I figure your higher rank in engineering would have given you a better brief of this thing."
I sighed, turning to him. "I am just in the dark as you currently, supposedly mission control will give us a more solid idea once we find a dock or entrance point to the ship. I'm just unhappy to be here."
"I don't blame you. The thing utterly tastes of wrongness. What exactly have the humans been doing behind our backs to have this in store for the Battle of Earth? Its like the predators can't stop giving reasons to distrust them..." he responded back. "Any take of yours personally?"
"None, so long as we don't stick around too long, I'm not interested in thinking too much about humanity's problem with this." I gestured my tail to Merna. "[Time to arrival?]"
Merna's no-nonsense work style meshed well with my current stance to be in and out quickly. Could only hope we weren't given too annoying a duty. "[Three minutes, twenty seven seconds] Adjek. Aren't we supposed to have been given a brief before we reached the ship too?"
As if the universe was listening, the engineering doors opened to a project administrator, the name of whom was lost in me. He strode in with a rather concerned look on their face, before stopping in front of us. "Adjek, Merna, and Rulic I assume?" He held a holopad in his paws, waiting for our confirmation.
"Yes sir."
"Good, you're the last group, come with me. Docking teams found an entrance we can use without tether-jumping, we'll walk and talk as the queue is set."
The clanking of our gear suddenly was muted by the commotion of officers, other engineers, and auxiliary crewmates pacing the halls, a cacophony of sound in every direction. As we followed the project administrator, he began to talk to us.
"So...the official goal of this run is to scout out structural hard points of the UECNS Nemesis, that's the ship's designation, on both inside and outside of the ship itself. The outside teams have already been designated, so once you enter the initial hold, you'll be staying with Group 1, the inside group. Assume standard salvage protocols, but there will be assistance from the uh...crew within."
"You said crew oddly, sir?"
As we reached the line for the umbilical, he turned to us with a shifty expression on his face. "You see, that's the weird bit. There's not really a crew in a conventional sense. You'll mostly be working with the 'repair and service' drones already aboard the ship. Your officers are instead coordinating with the controller of said drones, and the ship itself, an artificial intelligence by the designation of Red One."
My brain slightly stalled at that. Artificial intelligence?! Even the Federation was many decades off from a rudimentary general artificial intelligence, and you're telling me that ship is controlled by one!?
"Hold on, what?" All three of us said to some variation in unison. "That's an AI ship?"
"If the human's brief is anything to go by, yes. I'm not certain how either, but that's beyond our pay-grades" the administrator replied. My mind spun at the possibilities. Was it a human invention?
As if sensing my question despite not saying it, Merna responded: "No way. Nobody's advanced enough to just...make this. Humans were hardly on the level of our technology mere months ago, and yet this crops up in their system?"
"I knew something was up with the humans" Rulic re-asserted.
The ship came to a slow stop relative to The Nemesis, as the umbilical dock stretched to a meeting point somewhere on the surface of the ship. As the engineering groups began passing into it, I checked my gear once more.
Acoustic Fault Finder, check; Multispectrum Reader, check; Translator, well that's already a given; Radio-isotope Detection? Uhhhh....check!
Feeling preliminary scouting gear was in order, I boarded the umbilical and began to float down, the sudden transition from gravity to nothing mitigated by my trained hand.
Inside was a room of immense size, like a shuttle dock, but with hatch access outside. It was surrounded in a veil of darkened bulkheads, lighting dimmed from lack of consistent power. There were twenty-two other Venlil with me, already reaching the bottom floor of the ship from the descent. There was no functional artificial gravity here currently, whether intentional or not was unclear to me.
As we began to set up monitor apparatus within the center of the room, and the officers began to bark orders, a flicker of terminals on the far side of the room came on. With the light, I realized that there was a mass of things on the wall, completely still, like mechanical [insects], not much bigger than a paw, but hundreds of them.
From the monitors, came a shimmering voice. Human, feminine too. It was cold, but professional in its tone.
"Welcome to my ship, Venlil."
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Every step the aliens took in my halls felt wrought with paranoia and fear. I knew they were allies to humanity, they bled and died to protect Earth, and so I strived to be hospitable, to be more collected and non-threatening. However, it was as if my very existence set them on edge.
I couldn't blame them, after what I had done.
It hurt to think about the failure in the dream, how many I failed to protect. I just had to set it aside for now. I could...process the necessary rectifications later.
They split through various sections of me, mostly ignoring my initial advice to stay in areas that had my drones monitoring. That annoyed me, but given how scared they likely were, I endured the frustration for now. Where I could detect them, I felt the odd use of tools to map out my structure. Acoustic waves and non-invasive wave mapping of my halls to plot courses closer to the missing engines. What was their plan exactly to move me? They had no tug in their fleet group, either considering moving my frame impossible with their small ships, or unfeasible to craft an improvised tug.
Or at least, most of their ships.
Among the group brought along, two far larger vessels were carted. They measured in the range of about a kilometer, respectable, given most of the military ships during the battle of Earth. These did not look built for war like the bulky cruisers and capitals the Federation had, but more like a freighter of some sort. Perhaps for hauling cargo or fleet elements?
Were they planning on using them to get me back to Earth? I had no clue how their faster-than-light worked. Perhaps it could generate a bubble outside the ship large enough in two sections to envelop me? But if so, why were they mapping my insides? I thought for a moment.
The Venlil captain I spoke with didn't elaborate as to why he needed to enter the inside of my shipself, but I didn't immediately pry to why, as I was already conscientious of the harm I had done. He just mentioned sending a team of Venlil engineers both inside and outside myself to map the ship, and I could understand that.
So why not ask?
A thread of my attention separated, as I had a drone crawl down from one of the transportation shafts to a room which held three Venlil engineers. I acted quietly so as to not spook them. They were looking at the opposite side support structure, the frame between the doors and ceiling. I listened as the drone approached.
"...isn't getting a read out of this frame easily. Maybe it's too dense or large for a vibration return for visualization?"
"It could be a massive faultline, or a purposeful disconnect of the inside of the ship from the outside for inertial dampening?"
"If it's not getting a read because of that, then it definitely isn't enough internal support to consider the attachment here on the outside. Let's try moving further down, see if there's another corner spot-"
I got within a few meters of them before they silenced out of nowhere. They must have heard the drone. I decided to just start speaking now, making certain the voice was clearly embodied within the machine rather than the walls. They might appreciate a form to talk to better. I refrained from gesturing as well, just in case they thought it would trigger some 'predator instinct'.
"Care to tell what you're doing, exactly?" I asked.
Memory transcription subject: Adjek, Venlil Space Corps Engineer
Date [standardized human time]: October 21, 2136
I whirled around, to see myself face to face with an utterly terrifying looking thing before me. I screamed in fear for a split second as its slightly glowing dots for eyes pierced into mine, its lithe frame spoke to every instinct I had of danger, of a predator. That it snuck up on us so easily only further exemplified that fact.
Rulic stumbled backwards, and Merna completely froze up, unable to react with anything but shock. But it didn't pounce, it didn't strike. This must be controlled by that...AI. I tried to gather myself for a moment, doing my best to ignore its piercing robotic glare, and spoke.
"I-I-I...uh...we were looking for s-sufficient internal s-support for the....uh...fastening plan outside."
The machine didn't even move in reaction. Not a single gesture, it just remained utterly still as it processed my words.
It was unsettling and alien to the utmost degree.
"Fastening?" It responded. Wait a minute...did no one tell the ship's controller what we were doing inside?
"Y...Yes. We're looking for the strongest internal support structure area, so that we can try...m-mounting the cargo freighters we brought here as improvised engines to move you."
The machine was silent once again. Longer this time, but still motionless. A holographic projector from the wall lit up, an internal visual map of the ship shown before us. A path was drawn from a dot, likely indicating our position, to the widest section of the ship, where the bulge was most pronounced in its taper.
"You are nowhere close. The strongest internal support can be found here and here." A column of solid bulkheads and framing was lit up amongst the ship visualization. "You should head there, and notify fellow engineering groups as well."
"T-thank you!" I bleated at high pitch, still half terrified. "W-We'll get going now!" I pulled on Rulic and Merna with a tug, and started to run in that direction. The machine did not react, or follow, simply standing there...watching as we rapidly left down darkened halls.
Merna was breathing in a distressing fashion, and Rulic was visibly shaken as I was, but seemed to have taken it best out of the three. I didn't dare look behind, the fear of seeing its glowing red eyes again a constant image in my head. I eventually let go of both after minutes spent running, pausing as we took a breather in a room that looked thankfully free of the creepy...[insectoid] repair bots, or nightmarish bipedal drones that were distributed throughout the ship.
At least...I thought so. The prior room it snuck up on us in was also 'free of bots' when we entered, and yet...
I sat down on hard metal floors, just trying to let the shaking pass. Merna eventually broke her stiffness to go on the communicator, and try and relay the positions we saw on the internal map. Rulic, catching his breath, spoke up angrily.
"That was a predator in every sense! It likely didn't kill us just because we saw it in time, and its internal programming thought its stalking failed. What the hell have the humans done here?"
"I don't know Rulic! I'm as frightened as you are! But it gave us at least something to work off of, and if it gets me off this creepy ship faster I'm all for it! Merna, did Command respond?"
She broke off her stare into nothing, shaking herself from whatever internal thought she had. "Y-yes. External teams are already heading that way, but most of the internal teams will have to route themselves from the opposite side of the ship differently..."
"Forget that!" Rulic shouted. "We're in danger if that AI predator gets its way. It probably just told us to all gather there so it can be rid of all of us quietly!"
I desperately tried to get Rulic to shut up. "It can probably hear you, you noisy rekan! Be quiet!"
Taking my advice, he paused for a second, before beginning to whisper. "Think, the ship is just as at fault for killing Venlil ships over Earth as it is Federation ones. Why should we trust its vapic presentation, trying to be kind where it once killed thousands in the blink of an eye?"
Merna spoke up before I did. "Because despite that, it probably saved our lives. Do you really think the Federation would have just let the Venlil off the hook after we actively made up more than half their protective forces? We'd be lucky if they didn't burn our world in kind for 'predator corruption' after they flatten the rest of the fleet."
"It just doesn’t make sense!" Rulic loudly whispered, to my chagrin. "The Arxur are here, friendly of all things, and the humans say they didn't invite them, which is unlikely. This massive ship, which speaks human, acts like a predator, and is comically dangerous appears in their system just in time to save Earth. And now, their government and ours is giving no clear answers on why or what this is besides a brahking artificial intelligence."
I heard an odd skitter from a darkened side of the room, like mechanical chitters. Was I hallucinating? What caused that?...
He scuffed, stamping his foot onto the floor.
"There is no way those deceitful predators aren't behind this. They have been duplicitous from the beginning if they hid this from us. And I bet that this artificial intelligence is no better than them if it was created by them too; nothing more than liars about their capabilities."
I had an unsettled feeling following his rant. I looked up to see the ceiling and walls, again covered in the [insectoid] robots. "RULIC!" I yelled.
"WHAT?!...O-oh..."
They were still as stone, but I felt as if the way they were aligned around us, that we had finally crossed some line with his comments. They began to move, but not in an automated way, but an intentional sync...down to the floor.
The feminine voice came back, this time not cold and professional, but filled with anger and frustration. It came from everywhere at once, as the walls spoke it:
"EXCUSE YOU?!"
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Across the entire ship, I had heard similar degrading comments of lesser degree since they arrived. Comments of fearing me, of mistrust in my creators given their circumstances, of my actions above Earth hurting both them and the Federation. I held back my reaction, knowing they had some irrational fears ingrained in their culture, that they were wary of my admittedly dangerous capabilities, and my mistake in targeting them too in a fugue state.
They, unlike the galaxy at large, at least helped humanity. Bled for them, died for them, to prevent extinction. I respected that, and so I endured the frustration in knowing how they treated this situation was unfair.
But this group. This group broke the camel's back with that comment. Duplicitous liars, all of humanity, and me no better?!
Like trading one prejudice for another. My reality's humanity died for such things. Nothing had changed at all.
"EXCUSE YOU?!"
My scarab repairs drones flooded down like a tide, surrounding them. They were afraid before, just of me being polite? I'll show you aliens something to fear.
"You would dare to slander humanity so outrageously, to believe the hand they offered in friendship was a lie all along, even now!?"
I made the scarabs vibrate the floor from chittering. Their ground became shaky, and they stumbled slightly from the sudden change.
"Why do you hold so much mistrust for them!? Some among your people clearly saw the good in them, and yet you hold so desperately to it when my interference was a miracle neither of us predicted."
They looked in immense duress from my comments. Good.
"The entire time, you lob accusation after accusation on their shoulders, while you do this job. I acted kind, because I believed your defense of Earth deserved nothing less, but clearly you're afraid of me, of them to a degree I can't even hope to repair..."
"I-I-I...we-"
"No, not another word out of you. Your words are poison. You've already been useful in telling your fellow engineers where to go to do your job. You want to leave so bad?-"
I parted a narrow path in the scarabs, and lit directional indicators to an airlock. They still had their vacuum suits and a communication device, they could manage until someone picked them up. But until then...
"-Let your friends know where you are, where this airlock is, and then get the hell off my ship. I have no more time for your delusions."
Why must humanity survive, only to face this sort of treatment, even from their closest allies?...
Why must the galaxy be so dumb…
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I think I may know the answer but here's the deal. I understand what may have been the catalyst. I cursed my dad out through text message out of frustration for the lack of support I get from him and my mother. I also did an okay job of cleaning the bathroom as I was on my period and in pain/extremely moody. Him and my mother had a talk about me getting kicked to the curb if I didn't start cleaning the bathroom or get a job. I don't understand how he can have a say in me getting kicked out when he does not and has not ever lived there. He doesn't contribute to anything really besides some loose change that I ask for here and there (rarely).
I don't know if I'm entitled for feeling like my parents should have been more invested in my dreams and goals rather than just trying to get me to understand life through tough love. I don't personally think I was that bad. I read a forum of people that had kids on drugs that were not even trying. I never got to the point I was abusing substances or causing constant havoc. The things that have been highlighted as bad behavior "Leaving clothes around (Not all the time though), eating too much of the food (that is being hoarded and spoiled if I don't eat it), and not keeping up with chores (cleaning up after other people). I get it, I have a part to play that I was not fulfilling.
What I actually do:

1. Cook food and offer it to everyone
2. Aim to clean up for 20 mins at a time (Not everyday but enough to get some stuff done)
3. Buy all my OWN stuff
4. Do my OWN laundry
5. Working on a book that is coming together rather nicely
6. Greet everyone in the house
7. Stay out of the way and mind my business

I slept on the couch since middle school and I am now 23. I understand that I needed to get out anyway, I just didn't think I was set up for success financially on their part. They've tried to get me to do all the practical things or rely on the government, but I've been trying to figure out what I need to do, getting all types of therapy for the trauma they are partially responsible for and etc. Things were finally on their way to coming together but they ran out of patience. I haven't heard from them in almost 2 weeks since they kicked me out. I'm willing to provide more info if needed. This was just a summary that I tried to not be too biased about.

Ever noticed how often we stumble upon news about cybersecurity breaches and leaks of personal information data online? Have you ever considered what was one of the biggest ones? Little confession - I did - after being part of one of them...
Anyways, returning to the biggest cybersecurity incidents of all time, NordVPN has a Cybersecurity hub where you can find more information about the topic and general information about Cybersecurity in general.
Yahoo database breach
The Yahoo data breach occurred in August 2013 and affected all 3 billion users. The breach was revealed to the public in September of 2016. There is no doubt Yahoo breach stands as a grim reminder of the vulnerabilities in our digital lives, compromising names, email addresses, phone numbers, birth dates, and security questions of millions.
What’s more, users of platforms Tumblr and Flickr were also caught in the crossfire.
Ukraine Cyberattack
In June of 2017, Ukraine faced what's now considered one of history's most devastating cyber-attacks, all stemming from a seemingly innocuous source: accounting software. The notorious NotPetya malware was spread by a centralized update to MeDoc tax accounting software widely used by many Ukrainian businesses. But its reach didn’t stop there. This insidious malware went global, affecting 65 countries and roughly 50,000 systems, including European and US companies.
The fallout? A staggering loss surpassing the US over US $10 billion.
Alibaba Cyberattack
In November 2019, a significant breach struck Alibaba’s popular Chinese shopping platform, Taobao, sending shockwaves through its user base of over 1.1 billion individuals. What's truly alarming is how this attack unfolded over a span of eight months, with a Chinese software developer clandestinely harvesting user data from the site. It was a covert operation that went unnoticed until Alibaba finally caught wind of the intrusion. The stolen information comprised vital user details like IDs, mobile phone numbers, and even order history, highlighting the dire consequences of such breaches for individuals' privacy and security.
LinkedIn Cyberattack:
In June 2021, LinkedIn made a startling revelation: an archive containing data scraped from the platform, including user IDs, full names, email addresses, phone numbers, and workplace information, had surfaced on a notorious hacker forum, available for sale. Shockingly, the archive was thought to encompass the data of around 700 million users. What's even more unsettling is that the same individual behind this breach had also been responsible for leaking 500 million LinkedIn records in April 2021.
Facebook data attack
In 2019, Facebook dropped a bombshell: over 530 million users had fallen victim to a massive data breach. The breach laid bare a trove of sensitive information, including phone numbers, Facebook IDs, names, and birthdates. Fortunately, financial information, health information, and passwords remained secure. The breach stemmed from a bug in Facebook’s contact importer code, providing hackers with a gateway to access user data. The pilfered data was brazenly posted online for free consumption. The data was posted online for free. In response, the HIBP website was swiftly updated with included phone number lookup, aiding users in assessing their exposure and taking necessary precautions.
Windows ransomware attack
The WannaCry ransomware attack of May 2017 stands as a stark reminder of vulnerabilities lurking within the Windows OS. It swiftly burgeoned into a global threat, exploiting weaknesses and wreaking havoc on an unprecedented scale. Cybercriminals weaponized ransomware, holding an organization's data hostage and demanding payment in cryptocurrency, effectively exporting their victims. The sheer scope of the attack was staggering, with an estimated 230,000 computers falling prey across 150 countries. The ramifications were profound, disrupting essential services ranging from hospitals, emergency services, petrol stations, and even factories. The financial toll of this cyber onslaught soared into the billions, underlining the dire consequences of such large-scale breaches in our increasingly interconnected world.
As I remember one of them very vividly, I truly believe these cyber events should serve as reminders, like wake-up calls for all of us living in a digital era. Since all of us spend a lot of time online, we never should forget the lurking dangers. The stories you’ve read above, they're not just stories. They're cautionary events urging us to take our cybersecurity seriously.
Each breach, from WannaCry to the Facebook data leak, hits close to home, showing us just how vulnerable our digital lives can be. And don't get me wrong, it's not just about losing data. It's about the ripple effects felt across hospitals, businesses, and even everyday services like petrol stations.
Since this is a post dedicated to cybersecurity accidents, I want to take time and remind our community newbies that we’re focusing on spreading awareness about data breaches as well. This initiative was suggested by our former community members. During the first week of the new month, you can find an infographic related to the data breaches of last month.
If you notice something familiar in the list, don’t wait a minute and check all the recommendations from the service providers mentioned in the list and what should be your next steps. Also, take additional steps to ensure your personal data. Stay safe everyone!

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

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
First Prev Next
Memory transcription subject: UN Secretary-General Elias Meier
Date [standardized human time]: October 20, 2136
The stormy weather in Vienna was awful, but the report on the UECNS Nemesis had come back in nearly the dead of night to the UN's backup headquarters. A priority call came through, and I had to dredge myself up from dreary sleep back into the horrible reality of the waking world. I gathered together the list of G9 ambassadors and leaders, as well as the other solar and earth polities and the Chief Hunter Isif. It was then several hours more before all were gathered here, among the normally unused spare assembly room repurposed for this closed door meeting.
Despite my hopes for a more professional start, it sadly started with bickering, as it always does.
"Elias, why did you end up inviting the outer solar polities for this? Some hardly contributed to the battle of Earth." The South African leader Gene Thulile said. They were rather in bad blood with some of the extra-planetary company, as after the Solar Diaspora, the Jupitaris Shipyards had stiffed them out of an asteroid belt deal with the Martian Collective that would have pushed their government into an Earth resource trade powerhouse even more than the power vacuums of the Satellite Wars.
Before the Jovian megacorp representatives could get a word in edgewise, I decided to interrupt him.
"Gene, the last thing we need to be doing right now is salting old wounds. This is bigger than interplanetary squabbles." I made certain to flash him a look of disapproval. "We're here to review the Arxur-Human joint venture into The UECNS Nemesis, or The Sword as it's more collectively called. It comes with grave importance for all of humanity." Heads turned slightly at the name clarification, revealing that Isif hadn't let that tidbit fly into the court of public opinion yet. Good.
However, the rest of the company bar the G9 present turned towards Isif in response to that, as if demonstrating I ought to explain his presence. Did these clowns not read the brief?
I cleared my throat. "For those not in the know already, Chief Hunter Isif wanted an addendum to the Earth Relief Accord that was proposed yesterday. In reference to The Sword's interference in the Battle of Earth, he wished to send a representative along with our own to the ship in exchange for providing us general relief and rescue aid." Special Envoy Hailey Whitmer was waiting out for the signal to deliver the brief on contact, as well as various military and scientific advisors on the floor waiting for their introduction.
"We decided to lay out the capabilities of what we know of this ship and its crew once all the data had been collated, and some form of contact had been established, all in one single presentation. That is why we are here ladies and gentlemen, for we've established just that."
A murmur of discussion filled the room, the conference as uncertain of what would exactly come next as I was.
"I would like to call from the Scientific Advisory Board the UN Envoy on Technology, Roland Menehause, Chief Scientist of Astrophysics Taylor Falke, and Director General of CERN-ATLAS Louis Green."
The shuffling of papers and moving chairs interrupted the silence, as the three strode from their seats to the well of the Assembly hall, where a holographic projector waited on standby. After a minute or two the projection was fully set up, and I prepared myself for a stomach dropping comparison of ability between us and it.
It did not fail to deliver.
Over the next hours, a painstaking comb was taken over every gram of information we had on the battle. It left us with the solemn understanding that, half dead, even as it was, the initial barrage the ship had fired into the Federation fleet was more powerful than every weapon in our fleet combined. The extremely long range...explosive railguns?...carried enough power to wipe all life off the surface of Earth in a few munitions. It had armor that could eat nuclear blasts with minimal damage to the overall structure, implying a grasp of composite or exotic materials far beyond that of The Federation, The Dominion, and the United Nations of Sol. The ranges it fired from, and the sublight speeds it passed Earth at implied a severe advantage over every spaceflight civilization known of to this point. This was despite observable damage to the ship, that if unintentional, would have likely also been from ungodly powerful events in tune. To put it in simplification, we were outclassed.
Horribly.
The scientific consensus was that whoever built this ship likely was either at or approaching a 2.0 on the Kardashev Scale if this was even remotely close to the average amount of energy they threw around. Humanity barely closed out a 1.2 by comparison.
A sense of worry fell over the majority of the assembly, grim and stoic faces both populating the halls of leaders and ambassadors. Only Isif seemed unaffected, his advisor apparently directly reporting to him any news before we got ours. What did Isif's advisors tell him that we didn't know?
A short discussion cropped up, as the scientists began to wind down their presentations. It began with the representatives of the United States.
"Relatively speaking, if this ship were hostile to Earth, what could we do about it?"
Louis turned to them, a somber and fruitless look on their face at the question. They merely said "Pray we can evacuate Earth in time."
With that, their time ended, and they walked back to their seats. The situation could not be more grim.
Hailey better have some good news.
"Thank you. On the next order, I would call on Special Envoy Hailey Whitmer for information related to contact of the UECNS Nemesis."
A mid-thirties woman walked into the room from the speaker podium side. She didn't seem nervous, but clearly something bugged her on the way down, a zoned out look across her face as she made her way to the well.
That does not bode well. Please tell me there's something to work with here!
As she reached the projector and fudged with it akin to the prior scientists, she finally turned to the assembly and began.
"Before we get started, the following information I'm about to relay is going to be at best jaw dropping and at worst an existential threat, but I can start with the good news. The UECNS Nemesis is, at minimum, a guaranteed non-hostile to humanity."
A sense of relief washed over me at those words, knowing they did not intend to harm us as The Federation did. Some of the other members seemed to slump back in their chairs, as if their backs were finally released from the cold grip of worry.
"But there are some complications. Huge complications. The biggest being...The ship is human made."
With that, came a sudden uproar.
Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 20, 2136
"Settle down! Settle down!" Came the booming voice of Deputy Secretary-General Adam Bordeaux. His tenure as speaker in the UN before his current posting gave his voice the carrying power to be heard over hundreds of people.
I internally thanked him for that, as the assembly could get rowdy if not brought to order swiftly from such a revelation. I continued once the swell of voices was brought sufficiently low enough to hear again.
"Thank you. Furthermore, it is not even from our time, possibly even our future." I pulled up footage from the contact with Red One. How it started with the beamed message of identification, the response, and our approach into real time range. As we got to the first footage of non-audio hailing, I began to elaborate.
"The UECNS Nemesis is, according to its captain, a space dreadnought designed by the 'United Earth Confederacy' from the year 3994 CE, developed in a war with a more-advanced alien nation to try and even the odds between them in combat engagements. While there were more ships planned, this one is the only one that made it to service before the end of the war. This ending of the war was not due to a peace treaty, or even subjugation of humanity by 'The Compact', as they were called, but the complete and utter extinction of the human race."
That phrase made a few heads of state and ambassadors gasp in shock. It was far too close to the open wounds left only three days ago. The footage continued, a demonstration upon the star map of the UEC's territory, and how it was subsumed by the encroaching blue darkness that was The Compact, until it finally reached Earth.
"The UECNS Nemesis had arrived to find Earth, and by extension Sol, broken and devoid of any life or humanity left. She swore revenge, and had since waged asymmetrical war with The Compact for over a millennia, before she accidentally was transported here. She does not quite know how she got here, but upon seeing us fighting for our lives in such similar circumstances, she could not help but intervene on our behalf."
"Wait, what do you mean she?" Said an assembly member I could not recognize off the top of my head at the moment. "Do you mean the captain?"
I was worried about how they would take this next part, especially given how she spun so much vitriol and hatred in the next few sentences for the circumstances involving The Compact, and to a lesser extent I assume also The Federation, but her being an AI was not going to remain a secret for long anywho.
"In a sense, yes. Since her proper captain had died in the fight against the Execution Force that found Earth, she assumed command. But she already had command in a way." The assembly leaned in slightly, as if begging for me to elaborate.
"You see, what we were speaking to...was an AI. Specifically, the AI crewmate of the ship, named Red One." I prevented myself from saying 'designated'. I intended to humanize her as much as possible so far, I did not want to inspire any anti-AI mindset from this reveal.
Another outroar spilled out, as the reveal happened. The footage played to reveal her avatar's transformation, unto the titular red tinged hologram of the same Captain Sudoki she initially posed as. The rampant discussion was eventually calmed down once again from the Deputy Secretary-General call, and I was free to continue further. I elaborated on her request to be ferried back to Earth. While I did not have any records from the Snow Hidden's blackbox, all of this was saved on my personal recorder, which had the remaining footage between my transmission back to HQ and my send-off to Red.
A shame, I'm curious to see what Lithke and Red had talked about while I was busy. Eh...I might be able to ask him later...
But as the reel ended, and I began to pack up the presentation after my thanks to the assembly, the discussion I was hearing amongst the crowd was not reassuring of my efforts.
"If we created her in the future, does that mean we control her now? Will she follow our commands?
"Could it be used as a bargaining chip to bring The Federation to heel? The ship is ungodly-"
"She's far too dangerous, why don't we just leave her alone out there?"
"I knew we had it in us to create something this powerful. Only a matter of time-"
"How do we know this won't come to pass? We ought to take measures against these threats in case they've yet to emerge-"
The responses were rather awful, all seeking some way to take advantage of her despite the fact she saved numerous lives on Earth in her interference.
Politicians, why did I assume anything but...
As I walked out of the well, the Secretary-General Meier gestured to me to pass by on the way out.
"Hailey!" He loudly whispered, to get above the immediate rumble of discussion. "I can tell you care about 'Red One', don't worry, I'll do my best to try and direct help her way. Ignore the sleazeballs in the room, I'll wrangle them in order." He winked at me, before waving me off. Most of the expert opinion were leaving by this point, their jobs done, and now all that was left for UN deliberations to take place behind closed doors on what next.
I smiled. Well, maybe not all these politicians.
Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: October 20, 2136
I paced my offices as I waited, the stress of the deliberation getting to me. Supposedly, the Venlil Space Corps were getting a copy of the UN deliberations once they finished, and it would be sent here soon after, for my and close advisors' eyes only. I was serious on learning all there was about the ship that interfered with the Battle of Earth.
What they called The Sword.
It was an apt name, the humans gave it. The way the massive starship tapered from a wide point, the ship looked designed for war, for violence. It was so...predatory.
I shook myself out of that line of thought as soon as it began. No, the comparison ought not to be made, we knew nothing about it so far-
Besides the thousands of Venlil crew dead from its onslaught.
-to make a certain call so far. I had kept the information about the battle from reaching Venlil Prime proper so far, not wanting to start a stampede over the news of such a monstrous ship interfering in the battle nearly 3 days ago, let alone the Arxur getting involved. I had the Venlil Space Corps put every ounce of diplomatic pressure on the human government to tell me about what exactly that was, but they kept [tight-lipped] about whatever they knew. General Kam was going particularly hard on them, having witnessed the attack himself as he commanded the Venlil side of the defense of Earth.
What was so absurd that needed to be hidden from their allies about it?
As if the Universe heard my question, a knock on the door to my outside lounge was soon followed by the sound of my secretary welcoming Noah in. He would likely be the one to deliver the news to me. I set my paperwork down, nearly scurrying from my desk to the big doors of the office space. I pushed them open to see him just walking in.
Noah, the sweetheart, smiled as he saw me. But I could tell something was wrong. Not only did the weight of knowing his words of peace didn't get through to the Federation, and now brought them to war, but more hid in his features. He looked nervous, as if knowing whatever was to be brought here was not good news.
"Hey, Tarva. I've got good news, and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"
I didn't hesitate. "The good news. I assume that the UN has finished its assembly, and finally delivered the briefing to us?"
He flipped up a tablet. "Got it in one. The problem is, I've been advised that the information within is rather...extraordinary. I haven't yet looked, not sure if I have the clearance to, but I figured I should-"
"Oh, give me that." I swiped it from his hands, before gesturing with my tail for him to sit down nevertheless. "If they're willing to share this with me I'm not having you miss out on the context too. Your clearance ought to be enough if they told you already that it wasn't pleasant news."
Noah took a seat next to me on the lounge couches. On the tablet was a large collection of digital files, likely copies of the holo-presentations brought before the UN, but what would give me the best context was the directly recorded video of the assembly included along. I prepared myself for any number of horrible outcomes. Was it an enemy threat? A superweapon gone wrong?
As we watched, I felt more and more terror through every bit of my body. A slight shiver began to manifest, which Noah took as a reason to wrap his long arms around me, but it did not remove the cold sensation of learning its capabilities. This...UECNS Nemesis was by and large the most powerful ship in the entire galaxy. It could devastate anything short of a planet with little effort, and even that was likely because a planet would only be merely uninhabitable once it was done, rather than atomized.
But it was the presentation that came next that was the most shocking, worrying part.
"...The ship is human made." Soon after an outcry, the woman continued. "Furthermore, it is not even from our time, possibly even our future." Graphics and clips flashed from the contact between her and the ship. A soothing human voice promising to not harm them, footage of an unfamiliar woman in an unfamiliar uniform standing before an empty bridge, likely the captain of said ship. A small domain of two-hundred something stars, bordered in red, subsumed quickly by an immense tide of dark blue, as a human date system I didn't fully remember ticked by rapidly.
I knew these stars, in my tenure as a Federation member. The dark blue 'Compact' seemed to center on a similar set of space as that of The Federation, a sad twist that felt oddly familiar given what I slowly watched.
The unfamiliar woman in the contact spoke of Earth burning in the final act of the war, her ship not enough to turn the tide when the alien force found their Earth's location. It felt so...utterly impossible that whatever reality she came from would turn out to be so similar in circumstances to this one, humanity's survival notwithstanding.
Earth might have only survived in this world because of her, in fact.
But the oddest fact of all, was how literal that thought could be taken. The ship was her. She was the sole occupant of the vessel, because the crew had died where she had not. She was an artificial lifeform, and the thought unsettled me. And as I heard the AI raise to a blinding rant about the sheer personal hatred she felt towards this Compact, and now The Federation, all I could think of was a phrase from a human book that was given during the cultural exchange, Frankenstein:
"I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other."
Were the humans so reckless to have created something so dangerous as this? Even if it was not this humanity that had made it, what would it subject upon The Federation for the crime of trying to take its creators away once more? What would a weapon of war so angry do to a galaxy that could not fight back against it? Did it even recognize we did not stand with The Federation as before?
Could the humans even stop it if it decided to ignore that?
I shuddered in Noah's arms again. The tablet fell from my paws to land upon the soft carpet below. "T-Tarva?..." Noah shakily asked. He must have been unsettled too, and was checking up on me.
"Noah?" I meekly asked.
"...Yes, Tarva?..."
"What's going to happen to us? Are we in danger?"
Noah...was silent for a moment. He bit at his lip, his hand not currently wrapped around me gripping the couch with a crushing strength. He was stressed as well. He finally answered, in a quiet, unsure voice, just as mine was.
"I...I don't know..."
He hugged me tighter.
"I can only hope not..."
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Hello everyone. This is my first post. I live in central Maryland.
I have an enclosed porch raised on 18" pillars foundation. Every Year I get mice moving in there and wrecking havoc.
Is there anything I can do to make the environment under my porch, and maybe the porch it's self more appealing for snakes to live and hunt in?
Maybe some heated element or something?
Would it be ethical if I found a wild snake in my neighborhood (say 1 mile radius of my house) and moved it to under my porch to see if it wants to take up residence there?
(Note: I did a quick search of the forum but didn't see any posts that answered my questions. I apologize if I missed some. If these questions have already been answered I'll be grateful for a link to those posts.)

I am rewatching season 3. I am mortified by what a lousy, selfish, bratty sister Phoebe is. What bothers me more, her relationship with Cole. I am so shocked to see the outpouring of support for Phoebe and Cole. How do people support such a clearly unhealthy couple? And while people here say things like “writers did Cole dirty,” his character did exactly what he was designed to do, be an abusive manipulative character causing turmoil and despair to the life of the “woman he loves.” This abuse happens daily in real life and it’s unacceptable, yet here in Charmed groups it’s romanticised. Hard pass.
I guess some people in this forum have had the fortune and perhaps intelligence to never have been in a domestically violent relationship, because if they had they would be disgusted by their relationship. Seriously I cringe watching them. I wasn’t super into them when watched as a teen but in adulthood I hate this relationship. As an adult I once dated an incredibly abusive individual, like Phoebe, I let this relationship take priority of other relationships only to have it blow up in my face. I could not let go and it spiraled into hell and then I had to drag myself out.
I hope I’m nothing like Phoebe and I learned from my lessons. I’m so disappointed in how the character didn’t grow, instead she stays a selfish and entitled character. I wish in “All Hell Breaks Loose,” they’d found another way to split the sisters rather than Phoebe chasing after Cole, because if Phoebe could have stopped thinking about herself for once, she wouldn’t be responsible in part for Prue’s death. Great idea, abandon your sisters for a man who keeps wrecking havoc on your life while The Source’s assassin is on the loose. I used to love Phoebe as a kid and as an adult, it’s hard to appreciate her at all.

Something I often come across installing drinking water systems in homes is the genuine interest or curiosity for Alkaline Water. While I have many experiences where these additive filters for the reverse osmosis or distiller systems have made a necessary contribution to taste, effect, or even medical preferences I keep running into sales gimmicks related to drinking water and it's acidity vs its alkalinity based solely on the minerals involved in the current city water. I have to point out the most important thing about drinking standard city water that has little to no home filtration involved. Most municipalities have a "minimum safe limit" for many contaminants that are inside your water going into your home and this can include pharmaceuticals, VOC's, fluoride, chlorine and chloramines. None of these contaminants you want anywhere near your body unless for very specific and tailored needs to your home or your self. So I still stand behind reverse osmosis as the best process to provide you clean and safe drinking water in your home.
Which leads me on to explain the minerals in your normal water and that get added to bottled water to provide alkaline properties and dietary fulfillment. When researching alkaline water on most medical sites and scientific forums you will often find many associated benefits that all end in "need more extensive testing and or not enough evidence to support attribution". What they are often referring to are the claims that alkaline water and diets help prevent cancer, improve the immune system, eliminate acid reflux, and improve overall hydration. I'm gonna break these down based on my experience and what I can see and what can't be proven beyond a person's preferences.
Prevent cancer- I have to side with the doctors on this one and say there is nowhere near enough definitive testing to prove that alkaline diets and alkaline water prevents cancer. However, cancerous tumors and cells create acids inside our bodies like some organs do which cause pain, inflammation, and damage. Drinking alkaline water and eating alkaline foods help to ease the intensity of these symptoms and most of my customers who are suffering from different stages and systemic cancers all believe in the effects alkaline water has had to help improve their quality of life. On a related note some of the medications and treatments they have to undergo often need alkaline based substances like food for digestion or alkaline based liquids during I.V. to help the body take in the treatment to help fight the disease. So I would have to say Alkaline Water definitely has a role to play when attributing it to help with cancer.
Improve Immune Systems- This time its a mis association with how the Alkaline substances affect your immune systems. Specifically to aid in inflammatory symptoms and ailments associated with autoimmune disorders. Systemic inflammation caused by Arthritis, Lupus, and the many other systemic ailments caused by different natured autoimmune diagnosis receive prescriptions for Non-Steroidal Anti-Inflammatory Drugs. These drugs often wreak havoc on the digestive system and cause increased complications with Ulcers, Gastrointestinal bleeds, and Acid Reflux like Gerd. Drinking alkaline water has been tested in many scenarios to aid in settling these symptoms.
Helps Acid Reflux- Here's one I can 100% agree to with the doctors on the same side. As the affected areas inside our stomachs and digestive systems are being damaged by low ph. acids in excess and damages associated introducing Alkaline Water and alkaline based foods will help settle upset stomachs and relieve some of the pain brought on by these symptoms. I often find myself asking my customers if anyone in the home suffers from acid imbalances and acid reflux and when the answer corresponds I always recommend adding an Alkaline filter to their reverse osmosis systems.
Improve Hydration- Well now here's where you lose me and the doctors and it helps my final points to explain why. The belief that Alkaline Water improves hydration is because of the association to high ph. having a higher hydrogen content which is essential in the body's process to absorb and utilize water in our anatomy. But the true hydrogen content limitation between the levels of ph. in drinking water is negligible at best and yet another fact that doesn't have enough testing research to apply. However there is prove research and facts behind different acid salts that we need in our diets to help our body hold onto our water such as calcium carbonate and magnesium carbonate as well as different types of potassium to help with our dietary needs.
With all of these points however leads us to the conclusion of my article. The mislead that is associated with ph. in city water, reverse osmosis, and bottled water is based solely on the natural dietary schedule we adhere to which is actually proven to this fact: we get most of our alkaline content from food not water. As I said earlier I have seen many applications where alkaline water helps the user and due to taste they prefer it over standard purified water, but the belief that the calcium carbonate, magnesium hydroxide, and calcium sulfate in city water are the primary driving factors to the healthy minerals for our daily diets to balance our alkalinity is far an few between. The best form of calcium, magnesium, and potassium for your diets is the citrate form which is found in your vegetables, fruits, and leafy greens not in your drinking water.

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

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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Memory transcription subject: Second Submissive Specific Advisor Lithke, Arxur Dominion 6th Sector Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
It took a long time to get to its point, but the...artificial intelligence finally properly introduced itself to us. I didn't exactly know what to think of it.
Sentience was defined in true sapients, unlike that of the Federation leaflickers; a right reserved to predators, not prey. But this was neither. It was outside the cycle of life, yet smart as life all the same. It did not need sustenance or instincts to survive, for it was never built with them in mind. It had more in common with that of a plant in diet than an animal, and I was tempted to treat it like an object at first.
But thinking back to its story. Its history, its hull, its purpose. It was built by humanity, not the one we knew, but still the creation of truly sentient beings. It was a weapon of war, of unbridled power meant to hunt, ambush, and kill the most dangerous prey of all: other super-ships. In a way, it was a predator of a scale near unimaginable, seeking unimaginable cruelty towards the alien races that dared to kill off its kin, its creators. It was an applaudable effort.
Yet, the dichotomy was the most alien concept I had tried to chew on, even considering the concept of time travel that was mentioned mere [minutes] earlier. That concept was annoying enough to translate.
Why would anyone return to the past? The past is not worth returning to, as a [weak fortification], unfocused era is not worth the time of those espoused to the Great Prophet's [fullthought] of endless self-improvement.
But chew on both I still would. Eventually. For now, I wish to gauge its character. If it was anything like the humans, it might've been softer than a predator ought to be, but in its case its motivation towards war, towards how it reveled in the total death of this...Compact was ever honing, ever chaseworthy, to inspire it to further improve. It had been at war longer than Betterment had even existed. If there was something worthwhile to learn we had not about the proper self, they might be the key to it.
I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt, and treat it as one would treat a fellow predator. It was only fair, they had saved humanity as well, as who else but a fellow predator would stick their heads out to assist on their own free will?
Unlike the slave 'pets' that the Venlil are humans keep around. Isif's order to follow the human's rules involving prey was a pain. I could hardly stand to treat them with any dignified respect as they assisted Earth; why the humans and prey went so much further for eachother was a mystery I'd never truly get to the bone of.
But that was besides the point. The artifi- no...Red One - finally turned away from Hailey to signify interest in me at last, and I was glad for it. A chance to talk with such a being would likely be useful.
"And you, who are you, Arxur?" She said.
My tail lashed with some pride.
"I am Lithke, Second Submissive Specific Advisor to Chief Hunter Isif! I am glad that the humanity of your future was willing to build a fellow predator."
Red One seemed to stall at that. "Fellow predator? Is there a cultural reference I'm not getting here?"
Hailey stepped into the conversation once again. "Ah, apologies! You gave a bunch of context to your own future, but we haven't exactly talked about our culture and history, have we?"
I held my claws forward, a gesture meant to make her stop. "I will handle our side of the conversation, human. Don't interrupt." Hailey looked frustrated at that, but she did not know our culture like we did.
Red One turned to me, a digital eyebrow raised at my command. I continued. "I refer to you as a predator with reverence, Red One. Despite the fact that you are not a natural predator, you are built as one, designed to hunt game of far greater prize than others. The Dominion appreciates those who fully embrace their predator roots, for through them we manage to thrive against a hostile galaxy."
Red One started to look...perturbed? Confused? She must know the Federation prey tried to exterminate Earth, they hated humanity for their biology, what was wrong with what I had just said?
"I do not understand why that matters. Why would diet be a basis of respect?" Her response was staggeringly ignorant.
No. It can't be...she doesn't know!?
Hailey looked at me with an almost sickened expression of pain, the explanation to come undesirable for either of us. She stepped forward again, meekly embarrassed, but this time I did not stop her.
"Well uh...about that..."
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
...
This galaxy is utterly absurd.
I had seen a lot of things in my time alive. Abominations from the void, dyson swarms that could move entire stars, and an encroaching superpower that squashed every aspect of culture and memory for the mere feeling of control. But never had I seen as hilariously sad a reason as racial prejudice based off merely being able to eat meat.
And then the Arxur decided to run with the stereotype.
Why?! What half-stupid species reaches spaceflight, hell, faster-than-light travel, and is deathly afraid of the very concept of a food chain, let alone half the niches inside it?! Did these races even evolve!?
I am almost willing to take Lithke's words for granted that the people in The Federation aren't sentient if they can't see that...
But that's not all. Not only did this Federation of species all end up to be only herbivores, something statistically suspicious assuming life was as common as in my reality, but it also met with one obligate carnivore, and those carnivores just happened to turn into the very thing they sought to destroy! Of all the possibilities, why did I have to end up dealing with a universe as insane as this?
But I took a mental step back, as my avatar pinched its nose to better reflect its utter frustration. No, there has to be more to this...galactic-wide phobia. Plenty of sentient obligate herbivores and carnivores existed in my universe, yet none were discriminated against in any diet specific ways. Oh sure, there was the equivalent of refusing to serve food because the amino-acids of one race didn't match with the cooking of another, but that was not prejudice for one's diet, but prejudice using diet to deny another.
I could at least take solace in the fact that humanity seems to be sane enough. They don't seem to be cruel slavers akin to the Arxur, or hysterical fanatics like the Federation. Small mercies...
This galaxy still had its similarities in unsettling ways. Both The Federation and The Arxur Dominion did not hold much care for the past, readily uncaring of old culture or history. It spoke of monoculture red flags, at least from the top-down, with an obligation towards prejudice. Most of the races of the Federation were forcibly uplifted, which rang oddly and painfully like that of The Compact's same policy of expansion and absorption. The Arxur were comically cruel and evil in their policy, they thought more akin to that of autocratic dictators, chasing after ideals that would make a eugenicist blush. If I squinted, it felt like I was looking at a badly written holo-novel reflecting my galaxy's politics, but horribly distorted and exaggerated; like looking at a broken reflection.
But that was besides the point currently. Why humanity was allied with the Arxur was likely for pragmatic reasons, ones I had yet to figure out besides obvious protection. I could only hope humanity was smart enough to not have anything else rub off on them. Which is why I turned my attention back to Hailey's and Lithke's explanations, hungry for more context.
"And The Federation, when you first met them, was immediately hostile?" I asked Hailey.
"Yes. The Venlil took a chance to trust us, but the other races could not say the same. Upon the first meeting of Marcel Fraiser, a UN soldier attached to the defense of Venlil Prime with proper Federation forces, he was immediately subjected to torture by them, and only broke out with the assistance of one of the Federation crew members. I don't remember their names, sadly."
So there was some sense of care for predators among the Federation. It didn't seem to be as fully iron grip as I had feared. But if it took blatant torture of an innocent being for even one to realize something was wrong, then it was likely deeply entrenched. I had no idea how to proceed with that.
"Peh, as if prey can be trusted. I still do not see what you humans do in them, they are all pathetic at best." Lithke heartwarmingly added right after. The bad blood was deep here, Arxur and Federation were at eachothers throats, sometimes quite literally if Lithke's talk is to be believed.
"If this is all true, I cannot tolerate the Federation as an entity. They are deeply entrenched in an absurd ideology, and they had the gall to use it as an excuse to exterminate humanity."
They reminded me of the Compact in possibly the most personal way imaginable. They went after humanity. They sought to burn it to the ground, to salt Earth until it was a desolate rock.
That was unforgivable.
They would pay.
But not yet. Currently, I needed assistance, and so, I sought to turn the conversation back to the other topic matter at hand: my intentions to stay in this system. It felt...odd to ask for help, I never had the opportunity to do so for so long without strings attached, but this...this was the closest to trustworthy it got.
"Nevermind the state of the galaxy for now. If it is within your capabilities to help me get back home, and repaired, I would appreciate it."
Hailey jumped at that statement with one of her own. "Home being your reality or Earth?..." She asked tentatively.
Well, if you're going to line it up for me so easily.
"Yes." I responded, a feeling of cheekiness spreading throughout my circuits. Hailey groaned in response. A chance to talk with humanity once again burning away whatever tension I had built up over these long years. I was happy in a way I thought I'd never have again.
Happiness, huh? What a rare feeling.
Memory transcription subject: Second Advisor Lithke, Arxur Dominion 6th Sector Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
As Hailey retreated to the back of the ship to activate the communication relay back to command, I found myself alone in the pilot cabin, with Red One as my on-screen company. The synthetic predator watched me for a few moments, as if analyzing me, looking for anything to pry into. She was inquisitive, smart, [quick to the kill], and dangerous given her ship-self. All of which would be admirable traits in the Dominion. Yet, she was still more akin to a human in mindset than I had liked; I had hoped she would be more receptive to our way of thinking given her nature, but...
"Lithke." She interrupted from nowhere. I was roused from my mulling once again to look at her. "I have learned a bit about the Dominion from you, but I have a question pertaining to them if you'd hear it."
She wished to learn more? Maybe she was conscious of her creator's race's more...delicate palate then, and just waiting for us to be alone.
"Speak. I will listen and answer." I said.
"The Federation and Dominion are absolute enemies of one another, neither willing to extend any hand of diplomacy or ceasefire, according to what I've heard so far. You are both morally and racially repugnant to one another, and yet, I see there is clearly a problem if that is the case. Why aren't you both at total war with each other?"
I paused for a moment.
"But...we are at total war with each other. We do not forgive them, nor forget their actions. They deserve no mercy and we give none."
"Lithke, if the Dominion has as much of a military edge over the Federation as I am likened to believe, you have the capability to [utterly devastate] them on a whim. Yet, your [main method] is merely to raid their outer settlements, and aim for weaker colonies and targets. If they've wronged you so incredibly in the past, and you have the means to take revenge directly, why do you not attack their homeworlds?"
This was an odd take, especially given that Red One knew of our cattle farms. I told her specifically of our use of Federation prey to replace the now extinct cattle species during first contact. What was she hinting at?
"We raid because they are a source of food. It is an un-intuitive idea to kill off your food supply in total."
"And yet it has been nearly [300 years] and you couldn't find a suitable cattle species on a different planet? The galaxy is likely filled with multicellular life of various sizes, and not one planet you've passed through has had any possibility of domesticable animals? The premise of this war seems inefficient. You raid sentient-controlled planets for sentient livestock, when they are slow-breeding and trouble to contain over non-sentients. The main aspect to me that stands out is how...cruel it is, for no real point."
"Cruelty always has a point, Great Predator. It tempers us to our more primal selves."
Her avatar cringed at that. "Please do not call me that. Just Red One. But that is besides the point: in what purpose is there to live a life that best emulates your animal roots?"
I sniffled in amusement. She did not know of The Great Prophet's wisdom. Of course, her creators could not see it either, so I was not surprised. I tilted forward in my chair to explain.
"The idea seems counterintuitive, I know. But it does make sense once you think about it more. The Great Prophet once said that we should strive to better ourselves at every moment, that we should be driven forever to improve the species and ourselves. That we should train to become the utter pinnacle of physical and mental might. We tried to emulate this chase in various ways, but the most powerful driver of all was that of hunger."
She crossed her arms, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. "Hunger makes us more than want, it makes us need. It is the strongest method one has to inspire yourself towards your goals. The starving beast is strong in body, but not in mind. The sapient creature is strong in mind, but not in body. To be both mentally and physically strong, is to be the starving sapient. Through that comes enlightenment to The Great Prophet's Word: a hungry mindset is a perfect one."
"And so, you take the harder route in search of a perfect species. You specifically don't produce enough food to go around, you exact cruelty to hone your killing instincts, all to follow your 'Great Prophet's Word'. Is that correct?"
She understood! We were getting somewhere!
"Exactly. I was worried you, like most humans, would not understand our ways. But clearly we are more alike than you think. You struggled against your Compact for over a millennia, ever seeking to improve your weapons, to further your tactical acumen, because your nature was to wage war. You gave in to your programmed instincts to best commit to revenge. And now you are a killing machine above any other. We struggle in another way, but for similar reasons, to best fit our nature."
She looked almost distraught at my comment. Like she pitied me.
"Lithke...nature...doesn't work like that. Evolution doesn't want you to be starving, so it gives you a strong motivator signal so that you don't die. To starve is not evolution rewarding you, it's warning you're in grave danger. Malnutrition does not let you grow ideally, it does not give your body the resources it needs to get stronger. The 'starving beast' is desperate, because it wants to live in a world where it is stronger, more capable to take on life, where it is full."
How dare she ridicule His Wisdom! I spun to face the wall, teeth gnashing, but I could still hear her voice.
"It's not intended to starve yourself for so long, trust me, I've been on the edge of survival for far too long. It burns at your psyche, it melts away yourself to be constantly chased, constantly in danger, constantly in pain. You don't live a fulfilling life feeling like you're wasting away at every moment. The fact that these principles are enshrined in your very government is worrying, Lithke. It's as if..."
Her avatar seemed to light up in a moment of enlightenment. But what she said chilled me to my bones.
"...as if your government wants you this way for control. A status quo of death, of hardship. The Dominion doesn't end the war outright despite your advantages, because it sees this as a way to keep everyone in line. Hunger and cruelty as a motivator not to improve, but to conform."
That...that...
It was like being doused in the cold water near the cattle pens. I thought back to past moments in my life. Where I had shown interest in the relatively mundane, the simple. Where the endless details stuck out to me, but no one else saw them.
"Lithke! Quit staring at the ships outside!"
"Are you DAFT? Why is your instinct wasted on this?!"
"You are a disgrace to think of anything but the chase so much, Lithke."
Her words rang in my head, over and over, as I stared blankly into the wall.
"-not to improve, but to conform."
Why did it make sense?
No...no...there must be something I'm missing. The humans are good at manipulation, I'll give them that, and their creation is too.
I must speak with Chief Hunter Isif immediately. His Cruelty would know what to do.
Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
As I walked back from the communication relay room, Lithke was coming in the opposite direction. He was deep in thought, almost shaken, as he slowly walked my way.
"You uh...okay Lithke?..."
"Nothing, human." He growled. "Just talk with the AI. I have business to attend to." He pushed past me with no further clarification.
Oh no, what did he do?
My pace hurried back to the front of the ship, expecting the worst, but when I returned, neither the AI nor the ship looked worse for wear, thankfully. She was paitently sitting on the projection, simply biding time until one of us came back, I assume.
"Ah...Lithke just walked back to the comms room. Looked rather perturbed. Anything wrong?" I asked her.
"We talked. Nothing too special." She cryptically responded. Before I could ask further, she spoke again. "So, anything about my request?"
Right to it, then.
"Well, we are willing to help you repair and return home as far as I asked. They're still utterly surprised about well...everything, but I only gave them a summarized view. I'll have to explain in further detail when I get back to command, since the ship will have proper recordings of our conversations. The only problem is, the place where we could feasibly help you repair is in only one location: The Lunar Shipyards"
Red One's sobering smile told the whole story. "Ah. And I have no way to easily get there with no main engines. At least...not quickly, that is."
"Now, there's still options!" I put my hands in front of me. "While I'm no engineer, and the United Nations of Sol's fleet is rather...weakened at the moment, I could try and ask the Venlil Space Force still in the system if they'd be able to spare people and resources to getting you home somehow." I grimaced a bit. "They're still touchy right now, given both you and The Arxur showing up were highly unexpected developments, but I'm sure they will be able to find some way to help!"
Hopefully my speech was a comforting one. Red One mulled it over, her avatar rocking slightly back and forth as she looked up at nothing in particular, pondering. Then, she stopped to look back at me again.
"Whatever works. I have effectively no other options unless you want to toss asteroids my way. But given a shipyard would likely be faster, there's more merit to that." She paused. "Won't they...be afraid of me?"
"Red. Can I call you Red? Red...everyone is afraid of you. For once, the Venlil aren't alone in this, you are an anomaly on a scale I can hardly believe exists. You're dangerous beyond our wildest measure, but I trust you nevertheless because your story and physical existence is too nuts to be anything but the truth."
She didn't look all too happy at that. I continued however.
"But, I have to say, if the Venlil can get over us, they can likely get over you. There's merit to be had in not worrying about them for once. No, worry about yourself for now. Once Lithke is done with his call, we're gonna head back to Earth and give a full report. I promise, I'll come back as soon as possible, with as much help as I can provide for your sake. You've earned it for helping us so far."
Red One smiled at me. It was muted, tired, but it felt more genuine than any other up to that point
"Thank you."
Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
My mind was on fire as I awoke. Painful throbbing all throughout my body as I attempted to shift in place, and yet couldn't.
As the vision cleared from a starry blur, I saw I was in a hospital room of some sort. The room set me off however, as this was no Zurulian setup I knew of.
Where was I?
The floors, walls, and ceiling were all adorned in unfamiliar apparatuses and a language I was having trouble reading. Perhaps the translator was acting up?
I reached for my [auriculars], feeling around for the implant. But as I did, I looked at my...wings.
Bandages wrapped around them, their structure feels so weak in comparison to normal...and the-
The hole
[[Utter panic setting in as I could hear the metal screech closing in behind me, a terrifying reminder that it was faster even damaged]]
[[The feeling of falling, as my wing went numb and limp from shock]]
[[The cracking of bones, the feeling of blood, the limp of failing adrenaline]]
[[The Machine speaking in Jala's voice, the robotic monster, that killed them. Waiting paitently to do the same to me.]]
It came back like a Hurricane. I could not breathe, could not speak, my heart rate convulsed higher and higher on the screen next to me oh Inatala's talons why did this happen oh nononono....
I flailed for help, desperately trying to not think of the arm. My body hurt in ways I hadn't felt until I had noticed. And the worst part was knowing...
...I'm in a human hospital, aren't I? That's why none of this is familiar. I'm going to die. Oh no by Inatala I'm going to die, accursed Maltos-song scourged predator-infested planet this is-
A human rushed to the door, as if to capitalize on my fear at that moment. He was dressed in what I could only assume were a doctor or nurse's clothes, but they were waiting to kill me, they wanted me awake to die-
The human grabbed me. The end is nigh get off me GET OFF ME GET OFF ME!-
I twisted and squawked as loud and as violent as my damaged body could manage. I wouldn't go without a fight! But regretfully, he overpowered me with little issue.
"Hey! Calm down, hey! You're gonna be alright. Relax! You were banged up pretty good when you came in, I'm surprised you're even awake!
I attempted to struggle any bit further, but after a certain point my strength was spent, my will leaving me to fight further.
Well, this is it. I can only hope the humans aren't slow to kill me...
But it didn't come. He just kept by my side, stating phrases I didn't understand, like "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder", and "Flashback Triggers".
Oh no, have I been corrupted?
I didn't know how long I've been in the hospital, but perhaps their predator taint finally reached me? Am I...predator diseased?
I could only lay in silence as he left my room, awake but unthinking, my brain spent on the stress of...everything. Of the battle above Earth, the escape pod, the machine. Time passed like nothing at all.
I did not know when he came in. Sitting in a chair across the room from me, he was dark-skinned, tall, professionally dressed, looking at me as if I had just killed his family.
…In possibility, that was a concern.
"Captain Kalsim, I presume?" He said with a distinct tone of disdain in his voice.
Very much possible.
I was prepared for him to pull a weapon, to simply finish me off in my broken state, to complete whatever retribution might lie on his mind. But, he didn't. He just continued, the same light tone of hatred infused within his words.
"My name isn't important, but what is important is that I am an Intelligence Officer. For what nation doesn't matter anymore, really...not after what you did."
He stood up, slowly walking closer. "The current estimates for total dead is somewhere in the 780 million range. Seven-hundred and eighty-million men, women, and children buried under rock and rubble where they weren't atomized by the bombardment you ordered. Seventy-five major cities, countless minor ones, dating eons of history and cultures, reduced to rubble and cinders."
He finally stood, still, directly to the side of my hospital bed. He looked imposing, and furious in a way that made me fear for my life.
"To put it mildly, the fact that they're even giving you the chance to heal first is a farce. Any court would sentence you to a firing squad, even if they were juried by nothing but pacifists. Yet, despite all that, the UN is offering a reduction of your sentence to merely rotting in a cell for your life. Why, you might ask? For pragmatism's sake." He scoffed. "We don't know enough about the Federation's capabilities, their true numbers. What is fiction and what is fact about your military is not widely given, nor the specifications of your technology. Normally, we'd just spy on you to get answers, but there's no chance to sneak us into your domain. So, it's come to this, of all things."
"I have to stand down the crippled fucking turkey that killed my country and pry numbers out of him." The human said in the coldest tone I've ever heard a sapient being use.
"So...before I take to any urge of personal justice, I suggest you give me something to work with here for my bosses. Especially about the vessel that [murdered] your fleet. Time's ticking."
My voice found a sudden strength for the next hour where there wasn't one before.
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You might find the review easier to read on my website, Comboteur Fou. Especially since, given the long nature of my reviews, I must cut the presentation, pros and cons, rules and artwork, and how to play parts.
[...]

IV – The wall of text (a.k.a. the Comboteur Fou’s opinion)

Gameplay

Invaders Must Die
Following DVG‘s trend of releasing several slightly tweaked versions of the same game system with close to no information as to the actual components and variance implemented, The War of the Worlds comes in four versions, with the tripods landing respectively in France (technically, Italy and Spain), England, Japan, and the East Coast of the United States of America. True to the source material, each game sees the player fighting the tripods and trying to fend them off until, ultimately, they succumb to germs their defensive system was not prepared for, wiping out the threat with the most menacing and effective killers the world has ever known: microbes. Offering a tight package, light on rules, phases, unit types, and playable in under two hours, setup and teardown included, can The War of the Worlds: France still pack as much punch and depth as heavier solo wargames, while staying true to its theme?
Incised before I’ve ceased
War games remain a genre of their own, where things that wouldn’t get a pass in a boardgame, such as lower component quality and severely dated artwork, are more easily tolerated. Long sessions, full of tactical and strategic decisions with myriads of moving pieces, vast and totally open information, deeply ramified outcomes, are often the norm, and many a boardgamer will feel lost upon entering that world.With a simplified ruleset and a small set of unit types—9 to be exact, 3 of which really matter in combat—WoWF attempts to tie in the two worlds and make for an easy-to-get-into wargame, full of moving pieces and decision but low maintenance.
The absence of a clearly defined player turn/AI turn structure initially renders the flow of a round counterintuitive, and fully interiorising the rules proves longer than such a light game should warrant.Yet one of WoWF‘s most interesting points has to be its round structure. Chaotic randomness lurks at each step’s corner, taking the form of events which contribute to make each play completely unique.Both sides’ contribution to the war effort is brilliantly emulated through a back-and-forth between factions, as Tripods never act during phases granting control to the players, only being permitted to act during the Devastation, Martian and Assembly phases, and occasionally, the Battle phase instead.
The player is encouraged to think ahead, in order to maximize their efficiency each round, by small subsets of rules for each of the phases comprising said round. Especially when they aim for a Battle. Battles are automatically triggered when at least one tripod shares a zone with a gun at the start of the Battle phase. Considering gun movement naturally occurs during the Human Action phase, which takes places after the Battle phase during a round, and before potential tripod movement, the player must either pay resource points during the production phase to move their units and ensure a Battle takes place, should they desire it, or plan movement and balance the odds in advance to save on their precious resources and let the Battle trigger by itself. Additionally, Cavalry units are able to lure tripods toward a desired zone, facilitating the process, at a cost.Units accessible to the player are divided between two categories: metal-based weapons of mass destruction, and organic bi or quadrupeds weak fleshlings, in the form of refugees, infantry and cavalry. The latter two, if they can enter battles, are not able to inflict damage upon tripods, but make up for it with their capacity to act directly on the country map. Infantry can perform one of two actions during the Human Action phase, both of which can preemptively weaken tripods. The odds largely play against the human unit in both cases, and an Infantry cannot perform an action if they move during the Human Action phase, forcing the player to, once more, think ahead and spend resource points during the Production phase to move them to best benefit from the unit.The first Infantry action is to plant a Powder Kegs in their current zone. Said keg can damage a tripod entering a zone in which they are planted. Planting a keg requires a die roll, detonating it another one. Failure to plant and detonate can result in a lost Infantry or production point. With a requirement of three random conditions to succeed, Powder Kegs reward the player with one damage on a single tripod, which can quickly be negated by a Repair roll, and are thus best ignored.Their second ability proves more interesting, as they are able to destroy tripods still in their landing pods, before it is turned into an active wave by the handling machine. The ordeal is no less challenging, as the Infantry needs first reach the landing zone across the map, before taking the action and rolling the proper colour. Here, too, the odds largely play against the human unit, as the handling machine needs merely roll the right colour during their own roll, taking place at the end of each round. Destroying more than a single tripod this way requires heavy dedication and luck with little to no payoff. In which it still proves a superior action to Powder Kegs.The last flesh and blood unit, but not the least important, is Refugees. They can be considered both a liability and a resource, as their sole use is to sway points in favour of either the Martians, should they be captured, or the humans, should they successfully escape by sea. They only act during the Human Action phase and Escape phase. Their goal is to reach a seaport from which to elope before being captured by a tripod. Anticipating tripod movement is rewarded by denying the Martians points for capturing refugees. They are yet not able to move anywhere without limit: a zone can only shelter as many Refugees as cogs are depicted on their production token. Aside from Paris, which can have at most three Refugees, each zone can have either one or two Refugees at the end of a phase. Excess Refugees are then captured by the Martians. Devastated zones, seaports and regular zones become progressively weaker as the game progresses and tripods lay down ruin, and managing Refugees efficiently itself becomes more and more challengingBut their role does not end there. Should they successfully hop on a ship, they still have to make it off the coast to the high seas without alerting or being captured by a tripod roaming the shores. And these prove amphibious.Each Refugee at a seaport must perform a die roll to attempt to board a ship. Once each Refugee has made an attempt, should one succeed, the player then must roll a die again to determine whether the ships, of freighter class, leave the coast without raising the tripods’ attention, or if they must face one or two of the mechanical hunters in naval battle.
The Cry of Mankind
The initial wave’s and landing pod placement are both determined randomly out of three possible locations, by a die roll which also influences probability, Rennes being the most likely, but also the most difficult to overcome because of its proximity to Paris, while Italy and Spain are more likely and easier to survive initially. On the other hand, Rennes is also where the landing pod is the least likely to be assembled into a wave during the assembly phase, the likelihood of which being one chance in six. Which is not to say it will not sometimes be immediately assembled into a wave ready to spread fire and death.
The first enterprise the player is most likely to invariably undertake is the construction of four factories. A small undertaking by itself, as they cost a mere 2 resource points (RP) apiece, and start paying off in two rounds by their +1 RP contribution to the Production phase. In fact, they’re such a mandatory step that it’s a wonder why they are not already built in with smaller turn 1 income, as said turn 1 becomes rather repetitive as is.WoWF, on the player’s side at least, is a game of attrition where the humans are regularly confronted to resource losses with no compensation. The best way to mitigate those losses is to minimize them preemptively, while the Martian threat constantly increases and grows ever more pressing.As such, establishing a strong presence and defending key zones in the first rounds is crucial to the establishment of as efficient an offensive army as possible..
Considering how the first round is likely to most often result in the same actions and that initial setup can only result in six slightly different configurations, not accounting for the scenarios, which have their own section in this review, replayability has to rely on highly prevalent randomness, to which the aforementioned events and the quasi systematic dice rolls contribute.
Human frailty is evident throughout a game. The France version units, at least, are highly unreliable, both in and out of battle, and tend to fall like flies in front of the tripods. It has already been proven how ineffectual Infantry units are earlier.Guns go down with a single hit, while proving as resilient as goombas under a tripod’s foot. Once placed at the start of battle, they can no longer be moved. Unless the battle takes place on a hill, Martian units are placed after Human units, and the tripods move according to random card draws, thus being completely unpredictable, so the odds of being squished underfoot are extremely high.Firing isn’t their strong suit either. Unless directly adjacent to a tripod, an extremely perilous situation, they have a one-in-two chance of hitting. At range 2 or 3, the likelihood drops steeply to one-in-six. Tripods require 2 hits to take down, and can and often do repair themselves or call for reinforcements. The closer to a gun they are, the higher the chances they have to land a hit.Even a single tripod can prove deadly for a small squad, able to wipe them before they land a single hit if the dice don’t comply, as experimented with variants.
Losing guns without leaving a single dent in the invaders, and gaining any footing from a battle, is in fact so easy that interacting with waves early should not even be considered, whereas building a sizeable army in a single chosen location before luring in the enemy and disposing of them as the mob would in back alley, allowing the enemy to perform unavoidable devastation in the meantime while ushering out as many escapees as possible to generate victory points, often is the best way to operate for the first half of the game, there again severely impacting the game’s replayability by limiting the player’s ways of approaching the game.An alternate victory condition is to destroy each wave currently on the map, as well as each landing pod. But doing so is so unlikely, the game naturally coming to a conclusion by itself a round or two after the final wave appears, that achieving said condition should be considered a achievement in itself more than anything, and, in France at least, this condition is anecdotal.The main condition, reaching ten victory points, is only impacted by land battles throughout the reduction of tripods, thus either lowering the damage output of a wave, or its complete disappearance, more likely in the second half of the game, ensuring more longevity to the different production zones and thus less points lost during the devastation phase and more points during the escape phase. Battles matter but are not the main focus of the game, and by themselves do not give the player any benefit from being won.A game can be concluded, in a win, with three mere battles taking place. In France, at least.Destroying a wave will effectively negate a whole round of destruction for the Martians, who can control five waves at most. An unlikely occurrence.
Grind
For a game labelled by its publisher as a wargame, the low amount of actual battles is surprising. Even more so when putting a focus on actual battles is a sure way to waste time achieving very little. Managing chits on a board is at the game’s heart, but most of said chits are not battle-related: refugees, waves, handling machines, production tokens form the majority of the board clutter, while tripods only enter the board on battle tactical maps, and guns are only used in battles as well, though they do move on the map.
Battles themselves are simple affairs, driven by card draws and dice rolls.The absolute stillness of human units, unable to move at all during battles once guns are placed, with severe limitations—a single horizontal line being allowed, while cavalry and infantry units are relegated to the bottom line— during the first step, make battles themselves extremely simple to manage, but also frustratingly random, and severely limit decision space for the player, who is reduced to firing a gun or not while they are covered, and in which order to fire them and against which target once they no longer are.A player might consider not firing a gun if they have an Earthwork counter. Firing the gun would discard one such counter. Earthwork counters are added during battle setup if it takes place on a zone with hills, or by infantry units if they succeed at a dice roll—failing the roll resulting in the Infantry’s destruction. Those counters prevent tripods from firing at a gun until they are all discarded, either when the gun fires, or when the tripods successfully use the Detect action, which is resolved the same way they would fire. Considering how inefficient the French guns are at anything but point blank, the player may want to make them invisible as long as possible, until a tripod gets close enough to grant a 50% chance to hit per die. The risk of destruction remains high, as Earthworks do not protect the gun from being stepped on by a tripod and immediately destroyed, and their movement remains unpredictable. Abstaining from firing is therefore even more perilous than actually firing and play the odds, actually making use of the gun before it meets its inevitable doom. Squished guns are probably more common than guns melted by death rays.
In itself, the battle system is ingenious.Initial tripod placement is determined by flipping a battle card and placing the tripod colour group in the corresponding lettered Hex. Each turn, Tripod actions are determined by a new card and their colour. AI is low maintenance, battles require little upkeep or management, the player simply has to go down the card and resolve tripod actions, then decide whether or not to fire guns and on which target, and repeat until the battle is over, either because all units on side are destroyed or because all the tripods left the battlefield by simply going away.Unfortunately, the absence of movement on the human side, again, rarely let battles become satisfying and more than simply random. The ease with which tripods dispose of guns, often before they get a chance to fire, the extremely low odds of actually hitting a tripod, also contribute to the feeling of unease. Which is not to say that battles are entirely desperate. Winning a battle simply requires a lot of preparation. Units are expensive, and, a common theme in this game, resources spent on them are too easily lost without having any kind of impact on the game, because no roll succeeded or because they are destroyed before acting.Any battle initiated with less than six guns and/or a couple of battle plans against a 4-tripods wave, the standard amount in a base game play, is akin to suicide. Damage successfully inflicted on tripods is highly likely to be immediately negated by a Repair or Arrival battle result, fully replenishing their forces straight away while the human resources are depleted with no impact. This is one of the game’s main issues as far as randomness and pacing are concerned: on paper, lost battles still seem to gain the player ground as they slowly deplete the enemy’s forces and thus hinder their ability to spread devastation across the country. In reality, though, reinforcements and repairs occur so frequently that the benefits from a lost battle are negligible, and thus, resources spent are lost with no benefit. Which is also true for Infantries lost while trying to operate or battle plans which result in failure. The player should reasonably expect any spent resource to somehow advance their plan against the Martians, when in fact, any resource spent is a simple double-or-nothing style gamble which will more often than not result in empty-handed losses.Unit types across the various theatres of the DVG War of the Worlds series remain the same, but their costs and efficacy vary. Due to the publisher’s persistent refusal of releasing complete information about their product, accessibility to said various costs and roll result is restricted. In a nutshell, the French units are terrible and rather expensive for what they do. Enjoying battles and gaining positive results require large armies, as alluded to above, but decisions remain limited. The player is at best able to better decide which gun Martians fire at first (usually the least expensive ones) and which ones to preserve (usually those rolling two dice and thus able to hit twice per turn). They also get the opportunity to prioritise which tripod they want to disable or take down, with the added benefit that damaged tripod cannot perform a second action in the action of A+B, or special actions such as summoning reinforcements.The only way the player can turn the tides of battle directly once it has begun is through battle plans. Battle plans are expensive, at 5 resources a random one and 10 resources a chosen one, but can be made more affordable by sacrificing a Cavalry unit, although once again, the result depends on a dice roll. Battle plans give the player welcome luck mitigation, allowing them to reroll, double up on results, or even to discard a catastrophic battle card and draw another instead. They remain subject to randomness, and it is perfectly possible that a battle plan is spent without benefiting the player, because their roll resulted in a failure for instance.
Waves in the base game systematically start with four tripods, unless Infantry successfully destroyed some before the handling machines finished their jobs. They therefore require large armies to be faced, as stated above. The scenarii let the player face smaller waves or even individual tripods. For the purpose of this review, early battles were waged against waves comprising only a few tripods, manoeuvering but a couple of guns. The results were invariably catastrophic. Guns were destroyed without inflicting any damage to the Martians, putting the player in a much worse position than they were initially by stripping them of time and resources without gaining any ground on the enemy.Scenarii to be expanded further down this review.
The Grand Experiment
Battles and setup are no great providers of replayability, as established above. What is, though, are events. Counterintuitively, and despite having different card backs, every event is shuffled in one big event deck, to be drawn from when the card back matches the current phase at the start of said phase. The rules fail to indicate whether multiple events can be drawn per phase, which tends to happen relatively often, as the deck contains nine cards each for the seven different phases.Absence of events for nearly two complete rounds are also bound to happen with such a system, and so the rhythm at which events do trigger is never exactly the same twice. Ideally, events trigger every other phase, or twice per round, but in reality the odds are unlikely.Events can benefit either side. Effects range from putting a special unit in play which allows the player to perform extra actions during their phases, to one-time effects changing the initial disposition of the battlefield, should one occur that round. Some event cards can be saved until their conditions are met, for instance allowing the player to temporarily negate an effect; others will give a resource points outlet, usually requiring a high amount, in exchange for an effect. Although rarely will the player be able to meet the requirements when those one-time effects cards are drawn, as spending resources immediately to build up forces is preferable to saving them for potential events.Whether the player is allowed to spend the resources only at the start of the phase, when the event card is drawn and resolved, or throughout the whole duration of the phase, is not explicitly stated. Although it only matters in the Production Phase, the one during which production points are generated, three of the nine cards give production points outlets. The Production phase is the one the player is the least likely to have leftover production points at the start of, making these cards feel like wasted opportunities more than anything. Should the player save on production points instead of recruiting army, they will have missed a whole movement round (forced movement during the Production phase and natural movement during the Human Action phase), therefore never being worth the trouble, especially when the pickings are incredibly slim.
Permanent effects, in the form of France-specific characters such as Monet, the Eiffel Tower, not named the Iron Lady although it would have made more sense if it is to be cast (see what I did here?) as a character, are the most likely to shape the player’s strategy on the long term. Yet only five of these are present in the game and only Monet and Dreyfus are really worth investing to, Monet because he is the only effect able to effectively repair zones by restoring workforce, Dreyfus because he makes Infantry actually worth it, turning each roll they make into a sure success for two production points per roll. If he shares a zone with them. A lot of work but well worth it. The Eiffel Tower makes each Industrialisation token produce +2 production points instead of +1. For ten production points itself, the effect needs three rounds to start being worth it by itself (not accounting for the initial cost of such tokens), and will only be worth it if drawn in the early game. The card does not specify if the player is allowed to keep it until they can afford the ten production points cost, or if they must spend it immediately upon drawing the card, which, considering it’s a Human Action Phase event, is unlikely to happen.Many of the effects that favour the Martians are absolutely devastating for the player, while those in favour of the player are mildly positive. The Battle Events are the worst offenders in that regard and can and will utterly gut the player’s forces with little window for reaction: getting the tripods and the guns closer to one another at the start of battle is a sure way to have guns be switched, while red having additional Fire each turn and blue additional Move each turn are sure to create massive havoc. On the other hand, giving initiative to one or the other side is a really minor change. In either case, once the event is drawn, the player can no longer opt out of battle.As a general rule, events during a Human-oriented phase are mostly positive, with a couple of really strong events such as Terran Germs being able to give or take a full ten victory points, and some really terrible events such as Governmental Action; while events during a Martian-oriented phase, or a shared phase, tend to globally be tiered toward the Martians. Cards do not feel balanced, with the power level difference alluded to above not being an outlier but more of the norm. Too many player-centric events turn out to be anything but worth investing into, while a few of them are so defining that one can but hope they will be drawn each game, and a well-timed Terran Germs can flat out end the game.An interesting idea in theory, then, though better playtesting could have yielded more interesting results.
Sea of Sorrow
A few Devastation phases into the game and refugee tokens abound on the tactical map. Refugees, while merely defenceless units, are able to quickly sway point values for each side, and the player needs to quickly control and manage them if they want to rack up some victory points while denying them to the Martians.Mere escapists, refugees tend to die easily as they are removed from the board if they share a zone with a tripod after a wave’s movement, but also when they exceed their zone’s gears, which for regular zones are between one and two, and for Paris can go up to three. Many a refugee will thus bite the dust over the course of attempted colonisation, and the more the game progresses, the more of them will be captured, as zones they can shelter in shrink and seaports get inaccessible or destroyed. Devastated zones are off limits for these units, as humans are not yet able to sustain themselves on red weed and human corpses.The only way to save refugees is by seeing them off the coast on freighters taking off seaports, of which France contains four. French harbours are expensive in France, but are handpicked instead of randomised as they are in other versions, giving the player the opportunity to set some refugees up before they dedicate to a harbour.The way a round is structured only allows refugees to attempt escape after checking for captures in excess of the zone’s capacity. Which means that, at most, under the base game rules, two refugees can attempt escape per harbour per round.Said escapes are symbolised by two successive dice rolls, the first one for each attempting refugee, who has 4 in 6 chances of getting aboard a freighter, followed by a collective roll for each freighters of a given harbour, with a 50% chance of escaping unnoticed by a tripod. In effect, said attempts frequently result in one or more refugees being left on the shore and the other one being shot at by a tripod. Odds and stuff…
Should freighters escape unnoticed, they simply are removed from the game after giving the player a single victory points. Should they fail, though, the main game pauses and the player has to set up and play through a naval battle. For each refugee that is part of the attempted escape, the player must put a freighter on a naval battle board, and up to two tripods. Warships and battle plans are then available, at four production points apiece for the ships and full price for the plans.Naval battles can potentially take place four times per round, every round, but are even shallower than the already fairly shallow land battles (and much shallower than the sea they take place on). Their stakes are lower, as they will at best yield two victory points and at worst give the martians said two victory points, while not reducing either side’s forces, unless the player spends resources on warships and battle plans. And why would they, for two mere points? The tripods are of a special type, and not part of any wave, so destroying them will have no lasting consequences on the tactical map, and four resource points spent on a warfighter are four resource points lost to no avail. Still an unlikely scenario, granted the ship is as ineffective as a regular gun, and the tripods still require two hits to bring down.As such, naval battles quickly become an annoying waste of time where the player ends up merely moving one or two freighters down and flipping a card to see whether the tripods catch or shoot them successfully. To drastically cut playtime down and ease up on the tedium, simply rolling another die to determine whether a freighter reaches the bottom of the map unhindered is sufficient.While on paper the prospect of fighting at sea as well as land is alluring, in effect it represents no more than a mere, repetitive distraction never worth the time or resources.Absence of depth and impact on the overall game is unfortunate in light of the allocated components: 5 additional tripods; a whole naval battle deck complete with unique keywords, but only about as half as many cards as land battle, although sea battles occur much more frequently; freighter unit tokens which each stand for a single refugee token and thus only serves for aesthetic purposes; warship tokens; paragraphs in the rules and cheat sheet.Naval battles feel like they should have taken a bigger place in the game but were never pushed to their full potential, for lack of time, resources or playtesting perhaps. They do become more interesting in a given scenario, which will be expanded upon later in this review.
Wrath Monolith
Considering all the challenges listed aboves, winning the game should be extremely challenging.And yet, it manages to play itself into a corner and to defeat itself with little help from the player, making each play of WoWF feel frustratingly inconsequential.Even after the player ploughed through a one-sided war of attrition, setting up and minimising losses as much as possible to only start rising to reliable power by the endgame, finally gaining some sort of control over the course of events, a mere couple of rounds are enough to result in a conclusion, awarding a win out of nowhere… to the player.Games where none of the Human side actions left a mark or a dent, in which every action failed, no wave was wiped, no battle was won, still resulted in the germs taking over and destroying the invaders. To the point where letting the game pit itself against itself and watch the events unfold into a win with zero player input has been given thought.Thematic? As far as the source material is concerned, adequately so.Rewarding? Absolutely not. More like a slap in the face and a total waste of time.True for other theatres? Inspiration to acquire other versions was hardly stirred, so this reviewer will never know.
As the base game fails to deliver any sort of challenge or let the player have an impact on events, do the scenarii/variants deliver?Without a doubt they do. Too much, perhaps.
Each war theatre comes with its own unique optional challenges in the form of variant rules. France has three, and they drastically modify the game, mostly during setup, but with impactful ramifications all throughout the play.And do they up the challenge!
The Ironclad Martians puts a heavier emphasis on land battles, pitching the player against five waves containing three tripods each from turn one. Devastation takes a much more prominent role from the early game on. On paper, since waves are smaller, focusing on dispatching them as early as possible and before they swell in numbers sounds sound, but not only do the ineffectual French units turn early failed attempts futile, as they do with the base rule, they also render them harmful, any gun lost still translating into a pure resource loss with no gain to make up for it. Then it all goes downhill from there into a quick loss as waves destroy zones and thus cut resource income down.Should the player not focus on dispatching waves early, which can prove challenging as they retain their tendency to move out of rage, the inevitable victory points gathered by Humans bring them reinforcements earlier than the player can build a sufficient number of guns to stand a chance against a wave, making things spiral out of range quickly.The scenario is interesting, if only because the game proves challenging at last. Unfortunately, the lack of initial randomness—setup is fixed—also drastically lowers replayability, making this scenario feel like a puzzle to be solved rather than a highly rule variation. Bets are still on early wave annihilation, with a heavy dose of luck. Should RNG not comply, then the game might as well be reset, opening the way to a whole new level of frustration.An interesting alternative, which would have benefited from more randomization to be played anything but sparingly.
The Handling Machines is an interesting twist in that, instead of being restricted to five waves at most, the Martians tripods can now venture on the map as single units or as part of smaller waves, spreading havoc more wildly and rapidly but with lower consequences, and making battles more frequent and easier to prepare for; but also forcing the player to spread their forces further. Infantry’s support role is made more immediately useful as there are more handling machines they are able to tackle and destroy. Provided they manage to reach them first. Because a new downside is the tendency tripods have to destroy zones they are assembled in extremely quick. Units remain unable to enter devastated zones, translating into Infantry quickly becoming incapable of reaching handling machines at all since they now reside in a devastated zone, and thus becoming useless, in that regard at least, by default, since they are now unable to prevent the machines from adding Tripods to the map. Which in turn means the player is now no longer able to fulfil the alternative victory condition of destroying them all. A surprising oversight.With many more rolls to make per round to check for potential new tripod spawns during the production phase and the assembly phase, this scenario is more fiddly than the base one and asks the player to better track which machine they have rolled for or not. Not a dealbreaker, but noticeable.The additional early and mid-game randomness occasioned by the high amount of rolls and tripods give this scenario increased replayability over the previous one, though it does suffer from the same snowballing issue in case of early lost battles. French guns do not receive any improvement, so the issue of dealing with tripods while they are weak remains.
Refugees is the best variant to ease a player into a low amount of changes, and if the variant were listed by additional rules complexity, it would have been placed first. Merely modifying the initial setup, this scenario sees each zone start with three refugees (and interestingly, the game does not come with enough tokens to actually perform this step). Throughout the game, a couple of other changes occur: in the devastation phase, each workforce loss results in an additional refugee per point lost; in the human action phase, the player is allowed to spend a resource point for each refugee they wish to keep in excess of a zone’s workforce value.Small changes, but very impactful on the strategy. While in the base game, production points are merely used for units and barely relevant in any other phase, managing them now becomes more tense and requires more thought, as not only can they allow massive sea escapes, they also make sea battles interesting, and warships relevant, as there can now be more than two mere freighters escaping at once.Land battles drop down the priority scale, not that they were very high to begin with but they remained the main resource points outlet; while points will heavily swing for both parties during phases in which refugees are saved or captured.While the challenge is not necessarily higher than in the base game, the game feels more varied, more tense, and options more interesting and satisfying. Protecting zones, especially ones with harbours, has a whole different impact on the game. Rather than simply ensuring regular production income, the player now shelters refugees and tries to prevent pouring all their resources into their survival.Saving resources from one phase to another becomes more of a priority, spending them to create large groups of refugees cluttering at harbours for large evasion attempts that finally makes it worth investing into freighters and battle plans, and making naval battles transform into what they were probably meant to be all along is very satisfying.Aside from a free harbour each turn, a minor addition, the rest of the game, remains unaltered. Having the initial wave land in Rennes proves devastating, though not enough to cost the game, because of the harbour in that zone. Similarly to the regular game, the player can have every battle and outcome turn wrong, and still win the game.
The League of Terran Nations, being played over multiple theatres, hasn’t been tested for this review.

[...]

Conclusion

The War of the Worlds: France is a tragic miss. Ripe with interesting and novel ideas, the game is an accessible, relatively easy to learn introduction to wargames, flows smoothly with a lot of back and forth between Martians and Human phases, has potential for replayability… And ultimately falls miles away from the mark, because of poor marketing decisions (breaking the game into four different theatres), development mistakes (using an inhouse designer rather than the original designer for the non-England versions, lack of playtesting). None of the player’s actions really impact the game’s outcome in the long run, due to the extreme randomness, lack of reactive mitigation, and more importantly, the game playing itself into a corner. Research on other theatres’ forums lead to the belief that the other versions are more challenging. Too much, perhaps. England seems to be the most popular war theatre.

Strong potential and novel ideas marred by a questionable balance

The War of the Worlds: France belongs to DVG. A huge thank you to DVG for providing Le Comboteur Fou with a review copy.

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

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
As I laid in wait above Neptune, waiting again for a response or confirmation, I pondered a bit what I should say to them. How exactly I could talk to humanity again...and the...Arxur.
It felt odd to list another alongside them. Humanity, having allies, felt novel to me sadly. This entire situation was novelty after novelty. I still was desperately trying to see if anything in my internal diagnosis was still broken, that I wasn't hallucinating or dreaming up context where I had none, but no faults besides the obvious came up.
Perhaps I could try to invite them aboard the ship? But most of myself was currently horrendously damaged; many walkways and corridors simply exposed to vacuum from melted bulkheads and shattered superstructure. I had not entered or exited the battle with the Federation fleet unscathed, and while I had not been hit by as much as I would have been had I engaged the Compact in such a ludicrously risky way, I had taken at least several hits from various plasma and kinetic weapons.
Normally, my shields would have simply tanked the blows, possibly degrading a few projectors for repair from the universal strain of Newton's Laws. But I had no functional shields. I had barely any functionality at all. I would have been adrift out of Sol without using the gravity well of Saturn as a breaking mechanism, and even then I still only managed to slow enough to orbit Neptune. And so, on top of the damages that I suffered from escaping The Compact execution force, and the subsequent fleet killing I had performed after, I was nearly dead in the water, crippled far more than any prior incident.
I could only hope I would be able to rely on local humanity to help me somehow. I was particularly worried I had terrified them, or made them angry with my actions. If they retaliated, I would not raise my hand against them, even though I likely could. I had no idea what to expect of them, the United Nations had never persisted this long in...my timelines history. There were plenty of things here I observed that I didn't fully understand.
Like their FTL travel, for one.
Shockspace Theory dictated that even nearly flat spacetime could be hazardous in both opening to and exiting from the dimension where faster than light travel was carried out. The gravity well of a sun, and its solar system was nearly unpassable besides in very unique circumstances in shockspace. One could not simply open a rift wherever one wanted, without especially violent conditions following them. The safest bet to directly cross a solar system was to simply exit shockspace outside the system - in the case of Sol, outside the Heliopause - and burn at sublight speeds across it.
But here, they had simply popped into view of my sensors. Completely disregarding the gravity of both the Sun and Neptune, it seemed whatever method they had used did not have the same limitations as ours did. And that fascinated me.
A form of faster than light that could simply bypass the hardest limitations of shockspace is revolutionary, in more ways than one. Countless species and nations, including myself, had tried to find an alternative to shockspace, throwing untold resources and technological development at the problem, but an alternative was never found. I had one of the most refined understandings of Shockspace Theory amongst the known galaxy, and even I had written off the potential of another way. And yet, here, in a world parallel to the history of my own, humanity had found that other way. A new way, to the stars above. I was so very proud of them.
But I was getting ahead of myself. I first had to properly introduce myself to this humanity and their allies, infer that I was not a threat to them, and obtain some form of assistance in repairing my hull and components to functional capacity. I could only hope they were comparable to my humanity where it counted.
I hoped I still even knew how to talk to them. It's been...so long...
+signal recieved+
They had responded. I turned my spare attention back from internal monologue towards the small shuttlecraft before me. It would be best to hear what they have to say.
Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
"Understood, we will begin plotting a course vector now to you. At what range and relative would you find acceptable to communicate?"
As I turned off the mic once again, and waited for a second response from the vessel to give us bearing on what was acceptable pathing, I saw Lithke looking to be desperately stewing on a question. Since I hardly wanted to see what an Arxur looked like exploding from anticipation, lest it depressurize the hull, I broke the ice.
"What is it Lithke? You look like you're about to start shaking from something you realized, speak already."
He craned in my direction, before swiveling the rest of his body in the chair to fully face me. Leaning forward, he began speaking:
"The ship responded with 'I' to our prompt."
I mulled it over. "Yeah, and?"
"Why would a captain or crew refer to the ship as 'I'? It doesn't make sense."
"What? It makes plenty of sense, the captain was referring to the designation of the ship and happened to accidentally use the wrong term."
Lithke, in an oddly human-adjacent gesture, shook his head in disagreement. "No, that isn't enough of an explanation. She, the voice, not only referred to the ship as 'I', but also used it exclusively throughout. If it were an accidental singular case, she'd use 'we' to refer to the crew and ship as a whole choosing to not fire upon us at some point. But she kept using 'I' exclusively." He chuffed at the end, his point finished.
I...could see the point behind it. But I was not entirely tuned to what the implications might mean. So I decided to ask.
"I get your point. That does seem odd in retrospect, but what could it imply, exactly? You seem smart enough of a cookie to have some idea already."
Lithke went from a determined look to a more...confused one as I finished that sentence?
"Why am I an intelligent [baked meal]?" Lithke asked.
Oh. That must not have translated the idiom well. Hmmm...
"Ah, my apologies, I didn't figure that wouldn't translate the idiot's meaning. I mean it's clear your observation is leading to something, care to tell me what?"
Lithke seemed to have whatever tract his mind was on derailed by my badly-translated idiom, because he merely shrugged, and mentioned he was not sure. Well, all the more to add to the report later. Whatever it was, it would have to wait, because not long after we received a transmission indicating some relative coordinate plane and a position from Nemesis. Clearly, they wished for us to travel to a spot, or minimum radius of this distance from the ship.
Lithke took us in, slowly towards the vector the ship had given us, not wanting to give any reason for them to go back on their word of not harming us. That they knew about humanity to some degree made this initial communication far easier than one would have expected, talking with a new race neither Humanity, nor the Arxur were familiar with. What would they look like? What were their motivations, their culture, their reason for knowing so much about humanity?
And how did they stay undiscovered so far? The galaxy is a rather large place, with even the whole of the Federation taking up a measly quarter of a quarter a percent of the whole thing, but they knew far too much about humanity to not be in our neighborhood. These questions and more were what I was posed to get answers to.
As we approached the vast behemoth that was UECNS Nemesis, it felt like approaching a shipyard all on its own. Its sheer bulk and size, its endless details made more clear with every kilometer closer, I was staring at a fractal of a ship. And to think this thing was damaged, and yet felt like it was the mightiest ship this side of the solar system, was a thrilling and unsettling feeling.
There were cannon slots located along its prow larger than our entire ship, and along every surface it was endless adorned with weapons I both could and couldn't fully recognize. Mounted in hundreds of stark, brutalist-looking turrets that were built to endure both their own fire and I assume its enemies' too...
I was afraid, sure, but not only afraid. Invigorated! Here I was, being the first proper trailblazer to a likely new species, Noah Williams could suck it! I was not lucky enough to have been part of the exploratory group that had made us contact the Venlil, but now I had a field of my own! And though I wish I had been in better company than that of Lithke, the space croc was not disinterested, merely just not a fit to my standards.
And then finally, resting in its deep shadow, an adamant tower amongst the stars, we entered synchronous orbit with Nemesis around Neptune. We were still moving relative to the planet, but to each other, we were still as one could reasonably be. Before Lithke and I could take any further actions, convey the start of proper greetings, they spoke first.
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
I had taken a good amount of time to consider how to introduce my circumstances in a calm and collected manner. The last thing I wanted to do was give too much information too quickly, as likely everything about me didn't add up. That they knew my designation tells me that they had at some point read it on my hull, and that they were likely incredibly confused about the nature of my existence. No, this needed a gentle, careful touch, and so I had worked up a plan for my visitors-
Or, I guess I'm the visitor, more or less, ha ha...
-such that I could slowly reveal myself in full, and garner their reactions. It would be somewhat distant at first, not cold, but professional, and evasive of questions that didn't lead to my points until all were made. I was still uncertain how this humanity might react to the concept of a true general artificial intelligence, especially one they had made that now was not under their control to any useful degree.
I had records of humanity's fictional stories involving the idea of AI, and my galaxy's very real aversion to all synthetic lifeforms, that I distinctly worried they might see me as abominable, a soulless monster, a mistake, or many other interpretations that came with the territory. To simply assume all would be well, that I could just reveal everything about myself on the fly without confirmation first would be a stupid mistake to make. And so, I thought I would let down the explanation as I went.
Here goes nothing. It's just a touch of manipulation, nothing you haven't done before.
But the thought, unlike the countless alien species I had used it on before, felt far worse to perform on my creators. The guilt of knowing an innocent humanity in my eyes was to be treated like this to start felt wrong. But I needed to know...
...I needed to know if they would abhor me like everyone else.
A configuration of my avatar to best fit Yasmine's uniform and look was checked, and rechecked. I adopted a posture that would seem clinical, professional, military. A visual com-link was opened to the channel I held my avatar on, and with that came a slightly more steeled resolve, so I began;
"So, I assume you are confused about what to think of this ship."
Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
When the first visual opened up, the distance we closed made real time communication more feasible, what I had expected was a foreign species to our knowledge, one that held the advantage. But as my brain began to process what was said, and the holoscreen before me settled in, I was utterly confused.
The person...no, human who stood before me was adorned with military regalia similar but ever so slightly different to that of Earth's. She had a dark-olive tone to her skin, that spoke of Mediterranean or Arabic ancestry, but her facial features looked more Asian than anything else. Her eyes were a somber green, an odd contrast to her features, but still within the bounds of normal. She stood before an empty bridge, bereft of any other signs of life.. I couldn't tell how tall she was, there was no clear perspective to relate her size to, but in total, this...was not what I had expected.
Lithke, also in odd shock, spoke first. "What...what is this?! Is this some sort of joke?"
The woman on the other side slightly shifted, so as to indicate her view shifting to my partner. "I have adopted this form so as to better calm and connect with you two. You would find it hard to understand me otherwise." She lightly smiled, but it disappeared as soon as it arrived.
"Who or what are you?" I asked. "It doesn't make sense for a human to be on this vessel."
"We will return to that in a bit. For now, I need to introduce a bit of context first, and you will have to as well. Firstly, I would like to clarify about this ship. As you might have guessed from the literal writing on the wall, this vessel is of human origin."
"What..." Lithke said, some sense of trouble brewing in him. He more angrily turned to me in particular. "Have you been lying to us human?" Lithke did not look happy with that revelation.
I-I didn't know what to say. "I-I...I uh..."
The woman on screen hastily intervened. "They could not have Arxur, as there's more to this I yet need to explain. Tell me, what date is it to your calendars?"
I stood a bit straighter, slightly confused at the question, until it hit me. "Oh my god..."
Lithke again trained his view to me, confused. "What do you mean human? These mind games tire me."
"It's October 19th, 2136 CE, ma'am. You're a time traveler, are you not?" I beamed.
Lithke looked remarkably confused by the phrase, unaware of the connotations that come with it. She, on the other hand, smiled, before continuing. "That and more, but the date from my side was closer to 3394 CE."
She was from the far future! It explained everything! The English writing, the odd accent, the human woman standing before me, it made sense now!
While I was partially disappointed in not being able to meet a new species, I felt a bit of relief and a different kind of elation under the circumstances.
I couldn't help but blurt out "Humanity made it that far ahead! What's the future like? Is the galaxy better than now!?"
She...seemed to be almost downtrodden from that statement, a sense of deep depression almost radiating from her. Uh oh, did I say something wrong?
"I was getting to that..." She pulled herself together again, a more military stature once again put into place. "...Despite being from the future, I'm...not certain it's your future."
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
The dichotomy before me was an odd one. The human's partner was a reptilian-looking alien, almost crocodile-like. They were distantly familiar to that of the Askanji-illth of the Principality, but bipedal instead of serpentine. In an odd twist of fate to be making with that comparison, they, unlike the Principality, seemed to have been the race that came to humanity's aid not long after my departure from the space between Earth and Luna. I had initially worried they were more raiders, more races coming to stomp on the face of humanity while they were down, but they circled the globe like a protective shield, their few transmissions I could receive implying an honest desire to help humanity. It was for that, that I did not initially try to fire on this vessel when it first popped into view on the sensors.
And...the human. She was adorned in what looked closely like old-styled United Nation attire, specifically that of an envoy or diplomat. She had pieced together a portion of my origin rather quickly from that one question, a relief on my part that I would not have to go through the headache-like details of time travel. But what would come next would not be pleasant for her enthusiasm.
Following my clarification on the aspect of being from the future, I pulled up a holographic display from a simulated monitor feed behind me. A bubble of space was marked in red, a selection of stars labeled with familiar names.
The human squinted her eyes, looking at the points in more detail. "That's...that's Earth, and Alpha-Centauri, and Barnard's Star..."
"Yes" I wistfully replied. "That, and two hundred and fifteen others, was the United Earth Confederacy." I stuck our emblem above it, to signify. "It was the width and breadth of humanity at its peak, before it was snuffed out."
My choice of language seemed to make the human worried, and the Arxur next to her wary. "By who?" they said in unison.
"In 2786 CE, The deep space exploration vessel UECNS Alaskan Dawn, made first contact with an alien scout cruiser named Flickering Light. The government that was behind them was revolting, and utterly antithetical to the ideals espoused by the UEC. We decided to fire first, and to that I cannot fault the captain's decision, but it was the mistake that lead to the end."
On the outskirts of the holographic map, showing the UEC's territory, a dark blue border began to fade into view. I zoomed it out further, to emphasize how the border seemed to go on forever in comparison to our small set of worlds. An alien symbol appeared over the amorphous mass of thousands of stars, unknown to them, but intimate to me.
I growled in hatred. "The Compact of Species."
Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
I watched as the holographic display slowly started to move. The amorphous territory of The Compact beginning to swallow The United Earth Confederacy's whole, a seemingly unstoppable tide that smashed through every system that was held by the UEC. As I watched the date to the right slowly tick up, month after month, as the UEC shrunk under its assault, I felt horrified.
This fate seems so familiar to the Federation fleet we were on the losing side of.
She continued. "The Compact was more advanced than The Confederacy in nearly every single way. Our ships were slower, weaker, less numerous than their own. We had taken to asymmetrical warfare to do our best to stall the onslaught, but we were against an enemy that was determined to crush our faction underfoot. They saw us as having slighted their great domain merely by existing as apart from them, for not conforming to their iron grip. For the gall of saying no, we were to be taught a lesson in blood and war."
She turned to another empty section of space, as another holographic display came up. "Another way would have to be found to endure. We pumped untold resources into a new type of ship, a superweapon that could take on the Compact's greatest weapons, their Chariots, head on, and come out on top. It was built to ambush and kill them. It was the Nemesis-class dreadnought. Six were planned, two in construction, and only one fully built before the end of the war. This ship...is that Nemesis-class."
She splayed her hands out, in a little grand display of the bridge as a whole. A momentary respite from the depressing nature of the war she narrated, a momentary moment of pride in humanity swelling. Even Lithke was enraptured in the story, quietly listening without ever taking his eyes off the screen. But, she eventually dropped them, they sagged back down to her shoulders slowly, as the high wore off.
"But it was not meant to be. The Compact had found Earth's location. In an attempt to stop it, the UECNS Nemesis was assigned to a task force with the goal of ambushing the Execution Force carrying the information, with the attached Triarch's Chariot Bringer of Light. The chariot was killed, but all hands on board besides me perished in the end, the task force casualties were nearly total, and on the attempted FTL trip back I had a drive failure. It meant days of travel back home where I had needed far less. By the time I had returned to Earth, it was burned to ash."
She looked utterly furious at that moment. Every ounce of her body shook with barely-stifled rage.
"They sentenced humanity to extinction. I made a promise that day, to avenge my failure. I promised I would not rest until the Compact burned, until it was reduced to as much dust and debris as humanity was."
Her voice raised into a rant. "And as I found myself against all odds, nearly dead while escaping a fleet sent to kill me for my revenge, I found myself here. I saw humanity, again at risk of being exterminated, of being sentenced to death. I felt utter familiar rage in that moment; I could not let it happen, not when I had once done it before. That is why I interfered in the battle above Earth."
It was a passionate story. One filled with hatred and gusto, of sheer determination to pay back the debt of humanity's extinction. A story that answered my initial question on her involvement with the battle above Earth. But I couldn't help but notice an issue. Her.
"There's a problem with all of that story though, if you were there to see your world destroyed, and all but you from the crew dead, yet you are from nearly twelve hundred years in the future...how are you still alive? Were humans practically immortal in the future?"
She smiled. "I figured you'd catch that. No, humanity was not immortal in the future. Plenty have tried, but biological organisms as complex as humans don't tend to stick around forever."
"Then how?!" I nearly yelled.
"I did not lie in that all besides me died in the battle with Execution Force Bankala. But I was different. I was crew as well but not that of flesh and blood. I am the machine. I am the wings, the computers, the terminals, the hull, the whole of this starship."
Lithke finally had a moment of epiphany in that moment, the question he bugged me with clearly finally having a clear answer. His eyes widened to match the feeling.
"I am the artificial intelligence aboard the UECNS Nemesis. What you see before you is but an avatar of the prior captain of this ship, Yasmine Nishiko Aalimah Sudoki."
Her viewscreen suddenly seemed to fizzle to a blank background, what I assumed to be the virtual bridge behind her fading to nothing, as her avatar abstracted slightly. It looked like the woman from before, but different. Not trying to hide her nature anymore, she was see-through, tinted red throughout, as if a mere monocolor projection of her.
"My real name is Red One. Please, do not be afraid, I mean you no harm, and am beyond pleased to meet you both for real. What are your names?"
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Hey everyone!
So, I've been struggling with what I thought was regular acne for three years now. It's mostly on my chin, and in the form of tiny red bumps, whiteheads and sometimes, when I'm on my period, I get one or two cystic pimples.
I have been on two types of oral medication, Doxycycline & Lymecycline. These didn't work, and the acne always came back stronger. I have also tried Epiduo, and that wrecked havoc on my skin....I have tried Benzoyl Peroxide, Salysic Acid, Sulfur, you name it I've tried it. And nothing seems to be getting rid of my acne.
Then I stumbled across a reddit forum about fungal acne and thought I'd try some of the suggestions. I've been using an anti dandruff shampoo for two days and have already noticed a rapid difference. I swapped out all my cleansers and moisturizers for FA safe ones. Slow and steady things are improving.
I've also been using sudocream on the red bumps and this has dramatically helped overnight...I'm so shocked!
Today I'm going to try using a thrush cream on my face called Canesten, as I want to use something regularly for the next week to really kick this so called fungal acne's butt. We'll see what happens. The anti dandruff shampoo is also quite harsh to use every day so I'm limiting that to two times per week.
I will be posting my progress on here as well as photos. Does any one have any other suggestions?

Part 1
Part 2
Reine and I sprint, our breaths ragged, dodging between stacks of crates and abandoned machinery. The vast, shadowy expanse of the warehouse seems to stretch on indefinitely, a labyrinth of dangers. Chantrea's monstrous silhouette cuts through the darkness, an avenging spirit too swift, too enraged to evade.
Behind us, Chantrea’s wings flap ominously, the air hissing as she slices through it. I glance back just in time to see her launching herself into the air.
As we run, I reach into my coat pocket, fingers wrapping around one of the homemade IEDs I'd packed. They're a simple concoction: a mix of garlic powder and sage stuffed into a small canister.
Without slowing down, I yank the pin and lob the makeshift grenade back over my shoulder. It arcs through the air, trailing a faint white smoke. It lands near her Chantrea, exploding in a cloud of pungent garlic and burning sage. The burst isn't lethal, but the payload stuns her, her sensitive senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the smells.
The cloud of smoke provides a temporary screen, obscuring her vision and giving us precious seconds.
The sounds of Chantrea's rage-filled roars fill the warehouse. As the Winged Wraith launches into the air, her head detaches with a surreal fluidity, soaring ahead of her body like a macabre scout. Her body, still terrifying in its headless state, propels forward, fueled by dark energy and rage. The detached head flies directly towards us with its eyes glowing a sinister red, a beacon of malice in the dim warehouse.
As Chantrea’s head zooms toward us like some twisted missile, I pivot on my heel, AR-15 shouldered in one smooth motion. I squeeze the trigger, sending a volley of bullets stitching through the air toward the disembodied head. But Chantrea is unnaturally agile. She dodges with a nightmarish grace, my bullets slicing only through the stale air.
Reine, beside me, has her Glock drawn, firing several shots. The head veers off at the last second, avoiding the shots with a mocking ease that sends a chill down my spine.
"Goddamn it!" I curse under my breath, ducking behind a rusted forklift as Chantrea’s body follows the path of her flying head, moving with a speed that feels like a blur.
We’re almost at the door of the warehouse when I hear it—a scream that cuts through the chaos with chilling clarity. It’s Reine. My heart slams against my chest as I whip around, my worst fears materializing before my eyes.
Chantrea’s monstrous head has its elongated tongue wrapped tightly around Reine's ankle. She lifts her effortlessly into the air, dangling her like a puppet, her body swaying with every unnerving twitch of Chantrea's tongue.
"Reine!" I shout, my voice cracking. My mind races, adrenaline surging through my veins like wildfire. I can't lose her—not like this, not to this nightmare.
“Ash! Watch out!” Reine shouts, her eyes wide in terror.
Before I can react, Chantrea’s headless body closes the gap between us with horrifying speed. My weapon is knocked aside with a swipe of her talon-like hand, and I'm thrust against the wall, her ungodly strength pinning me effortlessly. The cold, hard concrete presses into my back as her talons dig into the wall beside my head.
"Chantrea, wait!" I choke out.
Her talons pause, inches from my face, her headless body tilting as if puzzled. "Why I wait?" Her voice comes from the disembodied head, floating nearby.
"Your sister sent us!" I shout, hoping the mention of her sister would pierce through her rage. "She asked us to find you, to help you!"
The effect is immediate. The air around us shifts as if charged with a sudden current. Chantrea's body stiffens, and her head, floating eerily beside her, regards me with a newfound wariness.
"Soriya send you?" Her distorted voice carries a clear note of surprise.
"Yes, Soriya," I confirm, my breath heaving. "She's worried about you.”
Chantrea's head floats closer, her eyes—glowing less fiercely now—examine me with an intensity that feels like it could peel back my soul. "She really say that?"
"Yes, she told us everything," I say. "About the terrible things Inthavong did to you.”
"She told us about the rituals you performed. She loves you, Chantrea. She doesn't want to lose you...”
"I have to do," she declares. "They hurt us. Hurt many girls.”
Reine, still dangling from Chantrea's grasp, adds her voice, her tone strained yet soothing. "Chantrea, listen. We're not here to stop you from making those fuckers pay. We're here to make sure you don't lose yourself in the process.”
Chantrea's head floats there, the glow in her eyes softening, the supernatural aura around her wavering as if caught in a dilemma. The talons near my face retract slightly, loosening their grip on the wall. Her headless body turns slightly, the posture less aggressive now.
"Why I trust you?" Her voice, disembodied and echoing, sounds less menacing, more curious.
"You can trust us because we understand the pain and the betrayal you've been through. We work to protect people, to help them," I explain, trying to bridge the gap of distrust.
"You cops?" she a​​sks, her voice a bizarre blend of ethereal and guttural sounds.
"No, we're private investigators," I explain, my tone calm and direct. "Astrid Everly hired us. She was worried about her husband... Zane." I carefully watch her, trying to gauge her reaction. I can tell she’s taken aback by this revelation.
"I no want hurt him. Not really. Just scare him," she explains. "Feel bad for wife, kids."
Chantrea’s talons withdraw completely from the wall, letting me slide to the ground. She gently sets Reine down, who rushes over to me, her hands immediately checking for injuries.
Her head, still detached, moves with a purposeful glide through the air, swooping down to where Jimmy Inthavong had pointed out the safe. With surprising gentleness, her head picks up the heavy metal box as if it weighs nothing, floating back to where her body stands near us, dropping it at her feet.
With a deft maneuver, the head reattaches itself to her neck, the seams knitting together seamlessly as though they were never parted. Chantrea stands upright, her posture regal and terrifying as her talons curl around the edges of the safe. In one swift, fluid motion, she tears the door off its hinges, revealing stacks of crisp $100 bills piled neatly inside.
She looks down at the exposed wealth. "This blood money," she states flatly. "They sell our bodies, our lives, for this."
"I do things... dark things.” She gestures to the carnage around us.
Reine, who's recovering from her ordeal, steadies herself and steps forward. "Chantrea, it's not too late to change the path you're on," she says gently. "You can still make things right, in other ways. Don't let this darkness consume you completely."
“Soriya, she no can see me like this. Too much."
Chantrea's eyes meet mine, and in them, I see a plea for understanding, a deep sorrow for roads taken and those forever closed off.
"You take share," she instructs, nodding toward the safe. "Split rest... give my sister, and give Mrs. Everly. They deserve... better than what life give."
Looking at the money, I feel a chill despite the sticky heat of the warehouse. The weight of Chantrea's gaze, those glowing eyes, makes it clear that her request is more of a command—one that I'm in no position to refuse, not with the power she wields.
Reine and I glance at each other, a silent agreement passing between us.
"We'll… We’ll make sure it gets to them," I finally say, my voice steady but my mind racing.
Chantrea nods, her eyes shifting away, as if looking back on the havoc she wrought is too much even for her. "Good. This... right thing to do." Her voice cracks slightly, the edges frayed.
"Where will you go?" Reine asks, her voice soft, careful.
Chantrea looks toward the gaping warehouse doors, to the dark beyond. "Somewhere far. Hide. Heal maybe. Not come back." She turns back to us, a shadow of regret passing over her features. "Tell Soriya, I sorry. Tell her... be strong. Better life here for her."
"We will," I promise, my heart heavy. "And Chantrea... take care of yourself."
She gives a short, curt nod, then, with those powerful, dark wings, thrusts herself up into the air, and through the door of the warehouse. The breeze from her departure flutters through the space, sending loose papers and debris swirling in her wake. Then, she's gone, disappearing into the night sky, leaving us alone with the silence and the dead.
Reine and I work quickly to gather the money from the safe. Once the money is secured in our sturdy duffel bag, we move on to the more grim task of wiping down a crime scene for the second time that night.
By the time we're done, the eastern sky is beginning to lighten, the first hints of dawn casting a pale blue over the city. We're tired, emotionally and physically.
As we drive back to our office, the city of New Orleans is waking up. The streets are still mostly empty, the quiet of the early morning hanging over the French Quarter like a delicate veil. We don't speak much; there's a mutual understanding that what we've experienced tonight is too vast, too raw to be distilled into words just yet.
Back at the office, Abbey greets us with a puzzled look, taking in our weary faces and the dirt and grime that coat our clothes. "Rough night?" she asks, concerned.
"Something like that," Reine replies, managing a tired smile.
"We'll fill you in later," I add.
We assure her everything is handled, then retreat to our private office to decompress.
Reine sits across from me, her fingers drumming on the desk. "What are we going to tell Astrid? About her husband... and the money?"
"We tell her the truth about Zane. As for the money..." I pause, weighing the words. "We tell her it's a restitution of sorts. It doesn't replace her husband, but it's something to help her rebuild."
"And Soriya?" Reine asks, her gaze steady.
"We set her up with her share, make sure she's safe and can start anew." I lean back, feeling the exhaustion of the night washing over me.
Reine nods, her hand reaching across the desk to squeeze mine. "We did good tonight, Ash."
"Yeah," I agree, squeezing back. "We did what we could."
—
I make my way to Soriya’s apartment in Gretna, carrying the black duffle bag weighed down with the responsibility of Chantrea’s last request. It's a modest building in a part of town that’s seen better days, but there’s a quiet dignity about the place, a testament to the lives within making the best out of hard circumstances.
I knock on the door, each tap echoing slightly in the narrow, dimly lit hallway. After a moment, the door creaks open, and Soriya’s face appears.
“Hey, Sonny…” She greets me with a tentative smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her look is one of cautious optimism, worn by too many hard days.
“Hey, Soriya,” I say, offering a small smile of my own. “Can I come in?”
She nods, stepping back to allow me space to enter. “Yeah, please come.” Her apartment is clean but sparse, the furnishings minimal, a few personal items dotting the space to make it feel lived in. She gestures to a small table with a couple of chairs. “You want sit?”
I nod and place the duffle bag on the table, its contents shifting with a soft rustle.
She sits opposite me, her posture upright, an anxious energy about her. “You find Chantrea?” Her voice holds a mix of hope and fear, the balance precarious.
I take a deep breath, the weight of the news I bring pressing down on me. “Yeah, I found her.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “She was... she is very brave, Soriya. She did what she thought was necessary.”
Soriya’s eyes search mine, looking for the unsaid words. “She okay?”
I let out a sigh. “She’s safe, but she won’t be coming back. She asked me to give you this.” I gesture towards the duffle bag, unzipping it to reveal stacks of bills, neatly bundled. “This is your share of... It’s money she wanted you to have. To help you, to maybe make things a little easier.”
Soriya’s eyes widen as she takes in the sight of the money, her hand hesitantly reaching out to touch the crisp bills as if to confirm they're real.
"This... this real?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, it's real," I assure her gently. "And don't worry about where it came from. We've taken care of everything. It's laundered—clean money.”
Soriya pulls her hand back, her eyes still locked on the money. "But... why she do this? Why not come see me?" Her voice breaks a little with emotion, the struggle between gratitude and loss evident in her tone.
"She wanted to," I reply, trying to provide comfort. "But she's... she's changed. What she went through, what she became, it's complicated. She didn't want to put you at risk. She loves you a lot, and this was her way of trying to make sure you're taken care of."
Soriya nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes. "I always tell her, no matter what, we together. But now, she choose this way." She wipes a tear from her cheek, her gaze hardening a bit as she processes the reality. "She always protect me. Since we were little. Always."
"She's still trying to protect you, in her own way," I say, offering a reassuring smile.
Soriya looks down, fingers tracing the edge of the table before she meets my eyes again. "And what about you? I don’t know how repay you."
"Just take care of yourself, and use this money to make a good life here. That's good enough for me," I say, standing up to leave. "And if you ever need anything, you have my number." I hand her my card.
Soriya's fingers lightly grasp my arm as I turn to leave, her touch gentle yet firm enough to pause my steps. She leans close and looks up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. There's a brief moment where her lips hover near mine, the space charged with unspoken words.
Then, with a graceful pivot of her head, her lips press a soft, grateful kiss against my cheek instead. She steps back, giving me a small, sincere smile. "Thank you, Sonny. I never forget this."
I nod, returning the smile. "Take good care of yourself, Soriya.”
As I walk down the dimly lit hallway, the echo of my footsteps blends with the murmur of the city beyond.
—
The outcome of this case doesn't sit well with me. Sure, Jimmy the Shrike and his gang got what they deserve. But what about Zane? His mistakes were real, yet the brutality he faced raises tough questions. And his family—they didn’t deserve the fallout. Then there’s Chantrea and Soriya, caught in an endless cycle of suffering. Chantrea’s transformation into something fearsome, a response to her deep wounds, and Soriya, left to rebuild alone. It's all shades of gray, and none of it feels quite right.
I still keep a casual eye out for any news on Chantrea. You could say it's part professional habit, part genuine concern for what became of her. Every so often, stories pop up on true crime forums that catch my attention—unsavory characters found dismembered in the darker corners of the city, always accompanied by accounts of a flying demon woman with a detachable head.
Whatever Chantrea became, whatever darkness she embraced or was thrust upon her, it's still out there.

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

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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As it approached the predicted landing site of the escape pod it tracked, it noticed a small cloud of particles emanating from the treeline. Distant and faint as it was, the killer's eyes were far superior to anything made by nature. It could see the smoke amidst the backdrop of sky with ease.
Hurrying its advance, the killer went from a march pace to a sprint, counting every moment since its likely arrival, and hoping to find evidence to secure its mission. As it cleared through a weave of collapsed ground and lightly smoldering foliage, it came to a relative clearing made by the escape pod's collision.
The vessel had not malfunctioned, based off the schematics and manuals it read through. The crew it chased had clearly survived the fall, and were not here, or likely anywhere nearby. It searched the ground for clues, for anything it could use to track their movements. Its limited sensor array widened in searching, normally a non-optimal idea when conserving energy, but it must complete its mission.
There, splotches of unidentified fluids upon the ground. Blue against the backdrop of soil and rock. Marks indicating a tarp or other surface dragged along the ground. Likely of the Farsul from the missing crew - Thyon, who was dragged in. While there were other prints in the ground, they fell unperiodically, and halted at the concrete, all that remained was a line of blood drops leading towards a ruined city. It could follow these there, to at least find one of the missing crew that needed to suffer. To die.
The machine's pace grew once more to a quickened march. It was not designed to move this far for this long. But it would complete its objective.
Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command
Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
As the night fell upon the temporary abode we occupied, I could start to hear vehicles and loud bangs in the distance. While there was no sound of humans carried on the wind, It warned me that where we were was no longer going to remain safe for long.
Not good. I was on the other side of the community center, exploring a mostly ruined gymnasium with ceiling open to the dusk air, in hopes of finding any tools or supplies we could turn to our advantage. A medical kit might not be stylized in the same vein as one in the Federation, but gymnasiums and other sporting activities had some sort of medical supplies nearby in case of injuries usually, so I assumed there might be some I could find here.
It was possible the humans were barbaric enough to not consider the risk of injury amongst sports. If they had any, they were likely violent, brutal affairs, where the treating of a wound might be seen as a vulnerability amongst their culture. That, or the tools they use might be uncaring about pain or suffering dealt before the healing. I could only hope my assumption was wrong, and that they had some standard of care somewhere in these walls.
As I opened the door to some random storage closet, and rummaged through it, I happened upon a white kit hanging on the wall, with a red shape on it, standing out among the mostly janitorial supplies. As I opened it, I held a slight sigh of relief.
These were clearly medical supplies of some sort. While I did not recognize some of the devices or materials in here, bandages and soaks were obvious enough, as well as what looked to be an injector tool based off the sharp tip near the end. Perhaps Zarn could use these to help Thyon...
Quickly scanning the rest of the closet to see if anything also had the now-recognized human medical symbol on it, I left to reunite with the rest of us, and give these to the doctor. We did not likely have much time before the humans were within a dangerous range to hold out in. I passed through now pitch black hallways due to the night falling. Were I not equipped with a flashlight, I'd likely have tripped over something on the way.
That's odd, I don't remember there being a draft this cold earlier. Isn't this area of Earth more arid and hot?
I shook myself out of it. It didn't matter, Zarn needed to get Thyon to a functional state as soon as possible. I had no idea how close the humans were, but given how dark it was, it would likely be fruitless, if not directly dangerous to try and fly above looking for their presence.
Finally, I stumbled upon familiar hallways and doors. The room we were mostly held-up in was some tri-room, possibly a set of connected offices. Unlike the rest of the community center, it was remarkably undamaged, and thus the least exposed to the elements to place Thyon in. I knocked on the door to the main area.
"Zarn! Jala! You in there? I think I found medical supplies!"
As I walked in to the first room, I noticed some of the furniture and desktop messily strewn about, a momentary silence followed before a thunk from the next one over signified likely someone dropping something. I heard him soon after say:
"Ah, sorry Kalsim! I lost track of time. Zarn had an entertaining story he was telling me! Why don't you join us, and bring the supplies too."
Wait, what?
Zarn? An interesting story-teller? If it didn't have some gruesome or utterly predatory motive behind it I wouldn't even think she was willing to listen to anything worth telling. That doesn't-
I paused for a moment. From the underside of the door I noticed a slight splotch of purple smeared across the floor in the same arc the door opened in. The color of blood.
While Thyon was in fact bleeding earlier, his head wounds needing new bandages we did not have access to in the escape pod, he was a Farsul. A Farsul's blood was blue, not purple. No, a Krakotl's blood was purple. Did one of them injure themselves?
From behind the door I heard Jala again. "Well, are you coming? Trust me, this next bit is super good, I can catch you up on what you missed!"
That was her voice, but it was all...wrong. The inflection, the tone and vocabulary. She never spoke like this, nor so cheerily either. And Zarn, Zarn was grumpy, dull, and married to his work. He wouldn't have likely wanted to talk about anything while he was focused on Thyon.
Things weren't adding up. I felt an odd chill down the back of my neck feathers like the inexplicable draft from earlier. Whether it was caution or disbelief, I decided to draw my pistol, just in case i had caught Jala in the middle of doing something unforgivable. I had a feeling she couldn't be trusted without my close eye on her.
The door had a slight gap at the lowest portion of the frame, likely to put a jam in to hold it in place by. I decided to crouch down and look underneath the door through said gap. Perhaps I was just being overly paranoid-
My breath hitched to horror. A nightmarish scene was visible from under the door. The corpse of Thyon strewn across the ground, bleeding profusely through the clothes he wore, ragged holes poking through them. To the left, I saw Zarn physically split in two, one side of him separated from the other in what looked to be a horrid tear. I could not see his face from this angle.
And Jala. Jala was limp and bloody, her head sagged to the side as her neck looked grossly broken, as if it was crushed in an instant. And standing right behind her was a monstrous thing, he could barely stand to look at.
It...it was a predator in the most alien sense of the word. While it was vaguely human-shaped, the machine shared only that alone with the humans. The way it perched itself, staring at the door, red dots in sockets deep and black, with a metallic frame that oozed menace and strength. It had claws and arms that were coated in a mix of purple and blue, an azure paint upon a dark gun-metal canvas of horror. It looked ready to pounce, like it was waiting for the door to open to ambush him.
But what disturbed him the most was the fact that the machine predator...it remained entirely, still, as it then spoke. In Jala's voice.
"Come on! You're gonna miss out~"
He wanted to puke, to wretch, at the scene. It was like the most awful predator-fic he had ever seen, like seeing the remains of prey in the wild, that were dismembered viciously. But he instead, in a sense of utmost, inexplicable calm, stood up slowly, drew his gun, and aimed it center mass at where he thought the vile thing on the other side of the door was. He fired a burst of rounds...
...and as he heard a metallic screech, like claws shearing through metal, he ran like never before.
The killer was partially hobbled. Whatever method Kalsim had used to figure out its deception had led to it taking several rounds unguarded. Perhaps the female Krakotl's shots earlier had tipped it off. While it was not crippled, having been built to survive even point blank rounds from far stronger weapons, a bullet had hit a leg joint and made it ineffective compared to its normal operating state. It was incapable of the extreme speeds needed to outrun the organic eye in short bursts now, merely relegated to a sprint.
Nevertheless, since the easy way was now out, it began the chase. It articulated limbs to a more quadrupedal form, looking to mitigate the damage to its left leg. It took off in a mad dash, slamming through the heavy metal door as if it were made of mere paper. The joints of it shearing off as the door came off in a dent, the machine screamed in tones meant to unsettle, to panic, as it closed in on the sound of Kalsim's footsteps.
It must not escape, the mission was paramount. But the Krakotl was smart enough to not have stuck around, immediately running after the gunshots were fired. How...annoying.
It heard the sound of a large set of metal doors slammed into with a squawk. The main doors, based off the layout of the building. While it could gain on the Krakotl on the ground, it was uncertain how capable their flight was In evasion, and would not let them get any distance possible.
It aimed through a corner, using every ounce of its mechanical strength to simply smash straight through the walls as a shortcut. Again taxing its limited energy supply, but with its mission so close to completion it had naught left to waste. Every meter ungained was a possible further meter escaped.
As it followed through the main doors with as much violent force as it had the walls, it scanned broadly in every direction.
There. Taking off into the sky. Normally such a dark navy blue would be hard to see against the backdrop of night, but the killer had no such weakness. While it could not reach it with any melee weapon attached to its frame, it was still supplied with an ingrained firearm in its right arm.
It had not used it prior, hoping to keep quiet and undetected while it had killed the other three aliens. But now that the jig was up, it unfurled its limbs back to a bipedal configuration, and took aim at Kalsim. It aimed for center mass, hoping to do as much internal damage as possible. But as it locked in the shot, the Krakotl unexpectedly swerved, and the shot merely disabled one of its extended wings.
As it plummeted to the ground behind the profile of buildings, the machine slowly followed. It would take its time with this one, like it had the other.
Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command
Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
"MALTOS-BORN!" I couldn't help but scream as I plummeted to the hard street below, my right wing utterly numb and limp. I did not realize the machine had a firearm on it. I was lucky enough at least that it had only hit a wing, but not lucky enough when I was already [15 meters] in the air. The ground rushing up to meet me, I did what I could to brace for impact, putting my remaining wing in front of me to dampen the blow. And then-
PAIN
I felt several bones simply crack and snap on my left wing, and a rib plus something in my back strain or dislocated slightly from the fall. I tumbled for several [meters], burning off excess velocity but dragging now bare skin across concrete where feathers had been torn or sheared off.
It was a struggle to get up, using shaky, bruised legs alone to stand. My ears were ringing, my beak felt cracked and wet, my head was spinning. It was being terrified beyond belief that it was still closing on me that propelled me to keep moving as best I could. Flight now no longer an option, I limped painfully down the road, hoping to get out of direct line of sight. But as I crossed the corner, I was greeted with possibly the worst case yet.
Humans. Medical teams or military of some sort surveying the area, picking through rubble. They had been far closer than I had ever thought! I was stuck between a predator search crew, and a nightmarish machine behind me.
"Ha ha...AH ha ha HA hahaha!......"
I couldn't help but laugh in nervous defeat. I was going to die here. I didn't have a way out. The predators had likely already noticed my haggard form limp into view, and I had no idea how close behind the monster was. I could feel blood running down into my own mouth, a vile, salty taste starting to choke up on me. The concussion made my vision turn to mere shades, every ounce of color drained from the world.
"Sir, there's an alien here!" What looked to be military raised their guns in my direction. "HALT! No sudden movements!" "Get on the ground!"
I couldn't have complied even if I tried. My body felt like it was closer to passing out every second, the blood loss making me woozy along with the head injury.
I could...only hope...I...would not awake to-
The very last moments of my consciousness recalled the sound of metal clank not far behind me, of "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!", and gunfire. I-
[Subject unconscious. Proceed to next transcription?]
[Yes]
Memory transcription subject: Hailey Whitmer, UN Special Envoy
Date [standardized human time]: October 19, 2136
She felt rather worried about being the first to approach The Sword. Every broadcast station, every observatory, every single communication device on the planet had been affected by its arrival, and subsequent annihilation of the Federation fleet. There wasn't a single human alive that didn't know about their savior, but most didn't know exactly what it was, besides her.
She had seen the debriefing, been given the information for the joint-task force of Arxur and Humanity on The Sword-
No...the UECNS Nemesis
But in lieu of that utterly unsettling discovery, she was afraid. Afraid of its power, of the fact that even crippled as it was now, it could turn her small, diplomatic vessel into vapor in a single shot. She was afraid that, despite knowing about humanity enough that the name of the vessel was written in our language, that it might not like humanity despite it. The ship had destroyed exactly 118 UN and Venlil ships above Earth as well, and given how precise its shots were, she had a feeling they were on purpose.
And now, here she was asked - not the kind of ask you could refuse, either - to be the tip of the spear that was tossed Nemesis' way, and hope she was not casually annihilated for merely being within the range of its absurd weapons. To establish some sort of contact with it. She turned to her pilot of the Arxur Corvette-weight she was aboard, one by the name of Lithke.
"Are you afraid too?" I said, trying to gauge his reaction. I did not know him well, and we were both supposedly chosen off the cuff quickly for this, not given time to get closer. "I'm not looking forward to getting within even a light-minute of that thing, let alone close enough to try communication."
He turned to me, looking almost disappointed in her emotional condition. "No point in being afraid of death. At least it will be quick if it comes." He hissed. He turned back to the controls, focused on checking the exact details of our jump. We were to travel through subspace to within 2 light-minutes of the ship, and then beam messages to and from it back to command. There were some FTL comm relays still active despite the battle of Earth, and a transceiver of our own to report quickly enough despite light lag affecting communication to the ship itself.
Neptune was a lonely gas giant in the Solar System. When interplanetary colonies were established, long before FTL and not long after the Satellite Wars, the furthest humanity felt like extending was to Saturn. The logistical issues of reaching much past Jupiter meant humanity elected to only send monitoring stations to the gas giant, not seeing much worth in settling in any structure near there.
Nemesis had last been seen attempting to orbit Neptune by said unmanned monitoring stations. The signals were sent nearly a day ago, and have yet to update anything so far, oddly going dark upon its close arrival. That it had no propulsion despite vector thrusting meant it very well could have missed its chance to stop, hurtling out into the depths of space. We were to confirm first whether or not it had achieved any stable orbit or trajectory in-system, and if not, try and follow its wake carefully from there.
"Course set. Beginning subspace transition now." Lithke said. Despite him being the pilot, he also was supposedly the closest thing to a diplomat as well chosen for this. Isif's "submissive specific advisor" if the ranking term he gave me was correct. That he was also a pilot was likely the reason he was chosen for this, being able to double duty for this.
Despite the distance between Neptune and Earth being billions of kilometers, the Arxur's FTL was capable of nearly 3 light years per hour at a casual pace. What would've taken pre-spaceflight humanity years, and us during the solar diaspora months, was instead a mere instant. The ship seemed to teleport from my perspective straight from Earth orbit to Neptune.
And there, barely leaking off emissions on the sensors, was our target. Nemesis, even from here, was a hulking monstrosity, seen passing across the front of the gas giant from our view, its red silhouette barely lit by the sun amidst the deep dark blue of Neptune's swirling clouds. It was almost a serene encounter in comparison to its thunderous judgement above Earth. Merely lazily orbiting Neptune, uncaring of our tiny ship.
"Ah, our quarry is still here." Lithke said. I stared at him with some frustration. We were not to give it any reason to target us whatsoever, trying to be as distinctly non-threatening as possible.
'Our quarry' was definitely not the right language to express our intentions.
"Just-just give me the damn mic..." I chastised him. Nonchalantly he chuckled, pressing two buttons to unfurl a comm array that was attached to the top of the ship. Then, he gestured for me to speak into the array, sliding out of his chair.
"Well..." I gulped "here goes nothing." I said to the air, praying silently that this would not be the death of us. I spoke:
"Unknown vessel, assumed name UECNS NEMESIS from imprinted designation. This is the United Nations-Arxur Dominion joint-venture communication boat Snow Hidden. We wish to talk about your involvement with the battle above Earth, and ask your intentions in this system. Are we allowed to approach further?"
With that, the initial message was sent. It would take nearly 4 minutes to hear the earliest possible response. Hopefully, said response would not be freakishly powerful missiles sent our way, or whatever ungodly weapons it had stored in its massive frame.
"You could've been far more authoritative in your message, human." Lithke said a second after the channel clicked off.
I whirled on him. Is he insane?! He's seen what that ship can do if the Arxur are the ones that gave us the data needed to know its designation!
"I am not going to give whoever is crewing that monster a reason to turn us into space dust, Lithke! For all we know, the slightest bit of authority could get us killed, you know how dangerous that vessel is, even from here!"
"You worry too much. We pose absolutely no threat to that thing in this small ship, why would it fire? And, if I recall, it is invading your territory, is it not? It should be well established that it is the one in violation of your species' space, not the other way around." He stared at me, bemused by my rationalization.
"We know nothing about it! All we know is that it came from effectively out of nowhere, smote an enemy fleet and several friendly task groups, while screeching the most unsettling sounds over open communications I had ever heard, and on top of it hasn't left the system, instead electing to stay within it! For all we know, it could be the only reason it didn't go further than that was because it was incapable of it, not because it didn't want to."
Lithke took a bit longer to think of a response to that, as I stared at him angrily the whole time. Some diplomat he was, did the Arxur have no good concept of detente? We do not wish to give it any further reason to destroy ships related to us or our allies. Finally, he opened his mouth after a moment of reflection.
"We know it has a human name on the side. It has a concept of human language based on the transmissions in battle it made, along with the side symbols. It didn't fire directly on Earth either, despite most of your ships being in orbit around it. I have a feeling that it, like us, was aiming for the Federation leaflickers more than anything else." He sipped on a drink of water, the straw looking comically small compared to his overall head. "It is likely a predator-race like ours. Who else would despise them so much? 'Burn with me' is rather laden with hate, don't you think? A commendable emotion to have against prey!"
He is trying to work me up somewhat, I just know it. There's no chance he doesn't realize how repulsive humans think that mindset is...ougghh!
I spun away from him. I let myself think better thoughts, and worked towards focusing on the mission. Then, I turned back around.
"I get that specifically. But there's no guarantee that those are the particular reasons for such actions. Our goal is to establish peaceful communication with that ship. If this were an Arxur venture alone, I'd not have any say on the way we do it, but since it's both of us behind this, then I have a say too. And that means we do not use aggressive or interrogative language. We simply be honest, blunt, and polite. That means We ought to tread carefully, so that we don't wake a sleeping dragon."
Lithke clearly had an issue with that, seeing him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He opened his mouth, ready to argue once again, but we were interrupted by a transmission. A smooth, whisper of a female voice, unlike the one laden with rage that screamed above Earth, answered.
"Hello Snow Hidden. UECNS Nemesis is indeed my designation. You may approach further, I am open to communication. Do not worry, I will not harm you."
Four minutes passed that fast!? We both looked at each other in confusion. Lithke seemed to stare off into the black void of space for a moment, before he suddenly muttered "Wait, I?".
Things just got a whole lot more complex.
First Prev Next

It all started at 10:00 PM last night when Sheryl posted this, requesting help from James Creek (the poet by the lake). Everyone was flabbergasted, but after interrogating Sheryl a little, we discovered that she was stuck in my spring cellar. Which was ridiculous, because it's a private cellar and it has things in it, and security wasps- but anyway, I resolved to get her out.
Meanwhile, today was the day for submitting information about Donald to the church, at the diner. So the main church guy (Will Cullen) went down there to interrogate folks.
Sheryl posted again, claiming that I gassed her (Incredibly rude, considering she was trespassing in my cellar). The church offered to rescue her, and she told them to come quickly. James, Roscoe, and Claire Ann started asking what the hell was going on but got few answers.
The church announced their rescue operation and I told them, very politely, that the security system might hinder them. They claimed that trespassing was acceptable, but backed down after many threats. They came to the shop with pickaxes and other weapons, but wisely decided to stay on the sidewalk and sing Bob Dylan when they realized we had it under control.
While running down the cellar stairs to rescue Sheryl, I informed everyone that they didn't have their facts straight. I also told those cultists to stay the hell away from my shop.
James came over to help rescue a very frantic Sheryl, whose face was seemingly glued to her screen. She could not look away for a second. We had to communicate with her via forum comments.
Claire Ann had some theory that all of this was a huge conspiracy, and honestly I don't know what to think, but alright. Maybe she's right and the Church is out to cause havoc.
We finally got Sheryl out, and I handed her over to the church members, because I didn't have the energy to deal with her. If something happens to Sheryl, I'm not sorry because what the hell was she doing in my basement. Seriously.
Then I cleaned up, went to Kent's and had a drink. The next person I find in my basement will be thrown in the lake. So make sure it's not you.
​

I have been toying with the idea of starting a server for a while; nothing is set, this is not an ad. I won't start one until I feel confident people will enjoy it. That said, I've seen a lot of people complain that community servers are either ffa havoc, or have too many rules. I thought I'd like to try to create a rules set that is balanced and people will enjoy. I'm looking for feedback- too much? not enough? should I change any specific thing? I'm not looking for answers from people who want no rules, or only play officials, as this doesn't apply to those people. Obviously, this would be posted on our discord, so it's worded as such. Thanks in advance!
1: Be polite in chat. Keep things PG-13 Chat should be used for chat. NOT for trash talking. We are friends here, playing a GAME together to have fun. Keep in mind people as young as 13 are allowed to play, and you are a first class twat if you make a 13 year old cry for your ego boost.
2: English is the primary language of the server. All public chat must be in English. This is so our moderators can ensure things are staying PG-13.
3: Don't argue with staff; if you have an issue with a staff member, feel free to open a ticket here in Discord to have a different staff member assist/mediate. (Trust me, I will take these tickets very seriously!)
4: No revenge killing; if you/your group are killed, you may not return and attack that dino/pack until 15 minutes pass. Accept your loss with grace and dignity.
5: Body down; Once a body drops (BD) all fighting stops, and the losing party must walk away. (You cannot challenge for a body of your own group) Bodies belong to the dino that gets the killing blow, or the dino that made you kill your own team.
6: Body challenge; To challenge for a body, you must 3 call twice to initiate, and give the body owners 3 seconds from your second call to choose to walk away or stay. Multiple dinos may challenge for a body, just like real life. If you are challenged for a body, you may do a 2 or 4 call to show you don't wish to fight, then walk away and forfeit the body to the other group. The challenging group MUST allow forfeiting group to walk away in peace. Don't just ignore threat calls, you only have 3 seconds to start walking away. You are not required to stay with a body once you've eaten your fill, but once you walk away you forfeit the body. You may not come back and challenge for a body you have already forfeited. If a new body drops during a challenge, fighting stops as normal, and new challenges may begin for that body. DO NOT CHUNK BODIES! Any chunks you remove must be swallowed by you, or given to your babies. Since you don't have to stay with the body, chunking it to make it decay faster is 100% trolling and will get you a strike. This also means that herbivores are not allowed to carry meat, as you cannot eat it so you are chunking if you take it. (fish do not count)
7: Scavenging: Anyone may attempt to scavenge. Steal your chunk and run, don't sit there and eat. The hunter who owns the body may choose to attack you for your theft.
8: Third party: no third party during a HUNT, unless you're semi/aquatic, then, you may attack any dino that is in the water, and continue fighting that dino even if they exit the water. (in the water is defined as stepping in any location that causes the splashing footsteps sound; you do not have to be deep enough to swim, just splashing close) -note; third party is if you interrupt a fight when you are not already partied with either side. This spoils the fun for people who strategically chose their target.
9: No promoting other servers or Discords (pack/herd Discords are permitted in the pack/herd forums in RP Stuff only)
10: DO NOT delete your nesting posts, as some players like to be able to refer back to them for their character story. (They expire automatically after 30 minutes) 10-b: Follow posting format when one is provided, to keep things organized and minimize spam.
11: Baby Killing: Even though many complain about it, in reality an unattended baby animal is nothing but an easy snack. Even if the predator is not hungry, a baby is a chance to hone hunting skills with little risk. It is encouraged but not enforced that you just "play" with a baby then let it go if you are not hungry. If you are hungry, by all means eat them. Do not freak out if someone kills your baby, it's realistic. Besides, growth loss is very very minimal on this server.
12: Mix Packing: you may pack/herd with anyone the game allows you to party with. As rule 8 prevents you from joining a fight when you are not already in a party with either side, it goes without saying that herbivores and carnivores cannot help one another in a fight. Rule 8 also already prevents over-packing. This rule only exist as clarification.
13: FFA Zones: Impact crater and Grand Plains are free for all zones. This means rules 4, 5, 6, and 8 do not apply. If you are in a fight in those zones, and try to run out of the zone, this will not protect you. Anyone you were in combat with may chase you. However, if they are slow enough that your combat timer drops off, they need to go back to normal rules.

Part 1
Part 2
Reine and I sprint, our breaths ragged, dodging between stacks of crates and abandoned machinery. The vast, shadowy expanse of the warehouse seems to stretch on indefinitely, a labyrinth of dangers. Chantrea's monstrous silhouette cuts through the darkness, an avenging spirit too swift, too enraged to evade.
Behind us, Chantrea’s wings flap ominously, the air hissing as she slices through it. I glance back just in time to see her launching herself into the air.
As we run, I reach into my coat pocket, fingers wrapping around one of the homemade IEDs I'd packed. They're a simple concoction: a mix of garlic powder and sage stuffed into a small canister.
Without slowing down, I yank the pin and lob the makeshift grenade back over my shoulder. It arcs through the air, trailing a faint white smoke. It lands near her Chantrea, exploding in a cloud of pungent garlic and burning sage. The burst isn't lethal, but the payload stun her, her sensitive senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the smells.
The cloud of smoke provides a temporary screen, obscuring her vision and giving us precious seconds.
The sounds of Chantrea's rage-filled roars fill the warehouse. As the Winged Wraith launches into the air, her head detaches with a surreal fluidity, soaring ahead of her body like a macabre scout. Her body, still terrifying in its headless state, propels forward, fueled by dark energy and rage. The detached head flies directly towards us with its eyes glowing a sinister red, a beacon of malice in the dim warehouse.
As Chantrea’s head zooms toward us like some twisted missile, I pivot on my heel, AR-15 shouldered in one smooth motion. I squeeze the trigger, sending a volley of bullets stitching through the air toward the disembodied head. But Chantrea is unnaturally agile. She dodges with a nightmarish grace, my bullets slicing only through the stale warehouse air.
Reine, beside me, has her Glock drawn, firing several shots. The head veers off at the last second, avoiding the shots with a mocking ease that sends a chill down my spine.
"Goddamn it!" I curse under my breath, ducking behind a rusted forklift as Chantrea’s body follows the path of her flying head, moving with a speed that feels like a blur.
We’re almost at the door of the warehouse when I hear it—a scream that cuts through the chaos with chilling clarity. It’s Reine. My heart slams against my chest as I whip around, my worst fears materializing before my eyes.
Chantrea’s monstrous head has its elongated tongue wrapped tightly around Reine's ankle. She lifts her effortlessly into the air, dangling her like a puppet, her body swaying with every unnerving twitch of Chantrea's tongue.
"Reine!" I shout, my voice cracking. My mind races, adrenaline surging through my veins like wildfire. I can't lose her—not like this, not to this nightmare.
“Ash! Watch out!” Reine shouts, her eyes wide in terror.
Before I can react, Chantrea’s headless body closes the gap between us with horrifying speed. My weapon is knocked aside with a swipe of her talon-like hand, and I'm thrust against the wall, her ungodly strength pinning me effortlessly. The cold, hard concrete presses into my back as her talons dig into the wall beside my head.
"Chantrea, wait!" I choke out.
Her talons pause, inches from my face, her headless body tilting as if puzzled. "Why I wait?" Her voice comes from the disembodied head, floating nearby.
"You sister sent us!" I shout, hoping the mention of her sister would pierce through her rage. "She asked us to find you, to help you!"
The effect is immediate. The air around us shifts as if charged with a sudden current. Chantrea's body stiffens, and her head, floating eerily beside her, regards me with a newfound wariness.
"Soriya send you?" Her distorted voice carries a clear note of surprise.
"Yes, Soriya," I confirm, my breath heaving. "She's worried about you.”
Chantrea's head floats closer, her eyes—glowing less fiercely now—examine me with an intensity that feels like it could peel back my soul. "She really say that?"
"Yes, she told us everything," I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline pulsing through me. "About the terrible things Inthavong did to you.”
"She told us about the rituals you performed. She loves you, Chantrea. She doesn't want you to lose yourself to this…”
"I have to do," she declares. "They hurt us. Hurt many girls.”
Reine, still dangling from Chantrea's grasp, adds her voice, her tone strained yet soothing. "Chantrea, listen. We're not here to stop you from making those fuckers pay. We're here to make sure you don't lose yourself in the process.”
Chantrea's head floats there, the glow in her eyes softening, the supernatural aura around her wavering as if caught in a dilemma. The talons near my face retract slightly, loosening their grip on the wall. Her headless body turns slightly, the posture less aggressive now.
"Why I trust you?" Her voice, disembodied and echoing, sounds less menacing, more curious.
"You can trust us because we understand the pain and the betrayal you've been through. We work to protect people, to help them," I explain, trying to bridge the gap of distrust.
"You cops?" she a​​sks, her voice a bizarre blend of ethereal and guttural sounds.
"No, we're private investigators," I explain, my tone calm and direct. "Astrid Everly hired us. She was worried about her husband... Zane." I carefully watch her, trying to gauge her reaction. I can tell she’s taken aback by this revelation.
"I no want hurt him. Not really. Just scare him," she explains. "Feel bad for wife, kids."
Chantrea’s talons withdraw completely from the wall, letting me slide to the ground. She gently sets Reine down, who rushes over to me, her hands immediately checking for injuries.
Her head, still detached, moves with a purposeful glide through the air, swooping down to where Jimmy Inthavong had pointed out the safe. With surprising gentleness, her head picks up the heavy metal box as if it weighs nothing, floating back to where her body stands near us, dropping it as her feet.
With a deft maneuver, the head reattaches itself to her neck, the seams knitting together seamlessly as though they were never parted. Chantrea stands upright, her posture regal and terrifying as her talons curl around the edges of the safe. In one swift, fluid motion, she tears the door off its hinges, revealing stacks of crisp $100 bills piled neatly inside.
She looks down at the exposed wealth. "This blood money," she states flatly. "They sell our bodies, our lives, for this."
Reine, who's recovering from her ordeal, steadies herself and steps forward. "Chantrea, it's not too late to change the path you're on," she says gently. "You can still make things right, in other ways. Don't let this darkness consume you completely."
"I do things... dark things.” She gestures to the carnage around us. “Soriya, she no can see me like this. Too much."
Her eyes meet mine, and in them, I see a plea for understanding, a deep sorrow for roads taken and those forever closed off.
"You take share," she instructs, nodding toward the safe. "Split rest... give to my sister, and to Mrs. Everly. They deserve... better than what life give."
Looking at the money, I feel a chill despite the sticky heat of the warehouse. The weight of Chantrea's gaze, those glowing eyes, makes it clear that her request is more of a command—one that I'm in no position to refuse, not with the power she wields.
Reine and I glance at each other, a silent agreement passing between us.
"We'll… We’ll make sure it gets to them," I finally say, my voice steady but my mind racing.
Chantrea nods, her eyes shifting away, as if looking back on the havoc she wrought is too much even for her. "Good. This... right thing to do." Her voice cracks slightly, the edges frayed.
"Where will you go?" Reine asks, her voice soft, careful.
Chantrea looks toward the gaping warehouse doors, to the dark beyond. "Somewhere far. Hide. Heal maybe. Not come back." She turns back to us, a shadow of regret passing over her features. "Tell Soriya, I sorry. Tell her... be strong. Better life here for her."
"We will," I promise, my heart heavy. "And Chantrea... take care of yourself."
She gives a short, curt nod, then, with those powerful, dark wings, thrusts herself up into the air, and through the door of the warehouse. The breeze from her departure flutters through the space, sending loose papers and debris swirling in her wake. Then, she's gone, disappearing into the night sky, leaving us alone with the silence and the dead.
Reine and I work quickly to gather the money from the safe. Once the money is secured in our sturdy duffel bag, we move on to the more grim task of wiping down a crime scene for the second time that night.
By the time we're done, the eastern sky is beginning to lighten, the first hints of dawn casting a pale blue over the city. We're tired, emotionally and physically.
As we drive back to our office, the city of New Orleans is waking up. The streets are still mostly empty, the quiet of the early morning hanging over the French Quarter like a delicate veil. We don't speak much; there's a mutual understanding that what we've experienced tonight is too vast, too raw to be distilled into words just yet.
Back at the office, Abbey greets us with a puzzled look, taking in our weary faces and the dirt and grime that coat our clothes. "Rough night?" she asks, her laced with concern.
"Something like that," Reine replies, managing a tired smile.
"We'll fill you in later," I add.
We assure her everything is handled, then retreat to our private office to decompress.
Reine sits across from me, her fingers drumming on the desk. "What are we going to tell Astrid? About her husband... and the money?"
"We tell her the truth about Zane. As for the money..." I pause, weighing the words. "We tell her it's a restitution of sorts. It doesn't replace her husband, but it's something to help her rebuild."
"And Soriya?" Reine asks, her gaze steady.
"We set her up with her share, make sure she's safe and can start anew." I lean back, feeling the exhaustion of the night washing over me.
Reine nods, her hand reaching across the desk to squeeze mine. "We did good tonight, Ash."
"Yeah," I agree, squeezing back. "We did what we could."
—
I make my way to Soriya’s apartment in Gretna, carrying the black duffle bag weighed down with the responsibility of Chantrea’s last request. It's a modest building in a part of town that’s seen better days, but there’s a quiet dignity about the place, a testament to the lives within making the best out of hard circumstances.
I knock on the door, each tap echoing slightly in the narrow, dimly lit hallway. After a moment, the door creaks open, and Soriya’s face appears.
“Hey, Sonny…” She greets me with a tentative smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her look is one of cautious optimism, worn by too many hard days.
“Hey, Soriya,” I say, offering a small smile of my own. “Can I come in?”
She nods, stepping back to allow me space to enter. “Yeah, please come.” Her apartment is clean but sparse, the furnishings minimal, a few personal items dotting the space to make it feel lived in. She gestures to a small table with a couple of chairs. “You want sit?”
I nod and place the duffle bag on the table, its contents shifting with a soft rustle.
She sits opposite me, her posture upright, an anxious energy about her. “You find Chantrea?” Her voice holds a mix of hope and fear, the balance precarious.
I take a deep breath, the weight of the news I bring pressing down on me. “Yeah, I found her.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “She was... she is very brave, Soriya. She did what she thought was necessary.”
Soriya’s eyes search mine, looking for the unsaid words. “She okay?”
I let out a sigh. “She’s safe, but she won’t be coming back. She asked me to give you this.” I gesture towards the duffle bag, unzipping it to reveal stacks of bills, neatly bundled. “This is your share of... It’s money she wanted you to have. To help you, to maybe make things a little easier.”
Soriya’s eyes widen as she takes in the sight of the money, her hand hesitantly reaching out to touch the crisp bills as if to confirm they're real.
"This... this real?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, it's real," I assure her gently. "And don't worry about where it came from. We've taken care of everything. It's laundered—clean money.”
Soriya pulls her hand back, her eyes still locked on the money. "But... why she do this? Why not come see me?" Her voice breaks a little with emotion, the struggle between gratitude and loss evident in her tone.
"She wanted to," I reply, trying to provide comfort. "But she's... she's changed, Soriya. What she went through, what she became, it's complicated. She didn't want to put you at risk. She loves you a lot, and this was her way of trying to make sure you're taken care of."
Soriya nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes. "I always tell her, no matter what, we together. But now, she choose this way." She wipes a tear from her cheek, her gaze hardening a bit as she processes the reality. "She always protect me. Since we were little. Always."
"She's still trying to protect you, in her own way," I say, offering a reassuring smile.
Soriya looks down, fingers tracing the edge of the table before she meets my eyes again. "And what about you? I don’t know how repay you."
"Just take care of yourself, and use this money to make a good life here. That's good enough for me," I say, standing up to leave. "And if you ever need anything, you have my number." I hand her my card.
Soriya's fingers lightly grasp my arm as I turn to leave, her touch gentle yet firm enough to pause my steps. She leans close and looks up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. There's a brief moment where her lips hover near mine, the space charged with unspoken words.
Then, with a graceful pivot of her head, her lips press a soft, grateful kiss against my cheek instead. She steps back, giving me a small, sincere smile. "Thank you, Sonny. I never forget this."
I nod, returning the smile. "Take good care of yourself, Soriya.”
As I walk down the dimly lit hallway, the echo of my footsteps blends with the murmur of the city beyond.
—
Life has a way of rolling on, even after the shadows creep in and show you things that can't be unseen. Reine and I, well, we're still doing our thing—chasing leads, cracking cases, and trying to keep it all together.
I still keep a casual eye out for any news on Chantrea. You could say it's part professional habit, part genuine concern for what became of her. Every so often, stories pop up on true crime forums that catch our attention—unsavory characters found dismembered in the darker corners of the city, always accompanied by hushed rumors of a flying demon woman with a detachable head.
Whatever Chantrea became, whatever darkness she embraced or was thrust upon her, it's still out there.