Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/SfgWLrM
Photos: https://imgur.com/a/SfgWLrM
Random sale items I couldn’t be be bothered to list individually. Some good. Some not. Some cool. Some…still not. Take what you will. PayPal G&S (fee is yours) or F&F. Shipping included unless otherwise noted, if it’s not included we will calculate exact shipping. You buy enough and I’ll split shipping with you. You buy it all and I’ll cut a deal and handle shipping myself. If my prices are out there work with me, a lot of this is off the top of my head.
Without further ado.
HK-91, G3 and similar: magazine loader and magazine unloader. Not planning to split these. Near as I can tell these are expensive from expensive places, and not available from less expensive places. I didn’t exactly scour the web though so I may be wrong. $90
Factory P226 grips: take offs from a MK25 $10 plus actual shipping
Romeo 7 QD mount: $10 plus actual shipping
1911 wood grips: RIA take offs, get em and practice your woodworking before you do it on good shit. $8 plus actual shipping
USP Compact sights: factory sights, despite the trijicon packaging they’ll be shipped in. $25
Magpul AK handguard: $20 sold
Yugo pattern polymer handguard: $10 plus actual shipping.
Century Arms brace with smooth buffer tube: some salt, no style. $30
Strike Industries AK buffer tube adapter: some salt, slightly more style than the brace. Maybe. $10 plus actual shipping
Or take the brace and the adapter for $35 I’ll foot shipping for both.
AP-5 factory handguard: if you’re starting to see a pattern, stick with me. Factory take off. $10 plus actual shipping.
30mm magnifier flip to side mount: purchased off here who knows how long ago. Never used the damn thing. Primary arms if I recall. $15
Sten mag: pinned to 20 rounds (?) old as it looks, ran fine in my MPA once upon a time. I have neither an MPA nor a Sten. $5 plus actual shipping sold
Wilson Combat g10 grips for the Beretta 92/96 compact: Dirty olive color. WC sent me the wrong set. Replaced the wrong set. Then these showed up unannounced a week later. $40 sold
SB Tactical folding brace: minus the folding mech, really not sure how that happened. $30
Bipod: bipod, tan in color. Lacking details. Functional. $10 sold
UTG Pro quad rail handguard (AK): for all non yugo pattern AKs. $30
UTG Pro quad rail handguard (yugo): for yugo pattern AKs $30
Take ‘em together for $50
Blackhawk shoulder holster: “universal” shoulder holster with mag pouch. $5 plus actual shipping
Sig 220/226 w/rail serpa holster: great for range or taking up space $15
Mossberg 500 fore arm: $10 plus actual shipping sold

As the title suggests, I believe a desk is tax deductible for the home office for a WFH employee.
I rather like woodwork and plan to make a quality ash desk. Is the materials tax deductible?

In an update to my last post about Avery Woods’ potential snark towards Nabela’s “beige and unremarkable” life, could it be that Nabothered has posted a retort to Avery’s videos?
If you haven’t seen her latest post on IG (I don’t have TikTok), she comes out of the woodwork with a whole rebuttal video about people that criticize her for not adding any color to her kids’ surroundings. Sure, she likely gets several comments per video about this, but this comes on the heels of Avery’s videos. Strange coincidence or planned attack because she can’t sit with The Plastics?

Hi all, going to officially launch a little side business and I’d love feedback on the names.
Timeless Timber
Heritage Woodworks
Legacy woodworks
Hardwood Haven
Handcrafted Heirlooms
Artistry In Grain
Hardwood Heirlooms
Update: I want to focus on selling keepsake boxes, jewelry boxes, and furniture/cabinetry. This isn’t something that I plan to do as a main source of income but to offset the cost of tools and materials for my own projects. Ultimately over time I’d love to grow it into its own business as I age out/get sick of the job market.

This is my first Hobby Drama post in 8 months!. I am back with some more modern hobby drama! Usually, I write historical stuff, but wanted to change it up a bit :) Oh and prepare for lots and lots of carpentry puns!

Wood you look at that: Reality TV in the UK

When you think of reality tv, the words “trashy”, “exploitative”, “rigged”, usually come to mind. However, in the UK, another word comes to mind…
“Cozy”.
What do I mean by this?
Shows like the Great British Bake Off (GBBO), Antiques Roadshow, Sort Your Life Out With Stacey Solomon, Great Pottery Throwdown, etc. Shows that have a calm, relaxed, atmosphere, with a genial host, where the contestants are (for the most part) kind and cordial towards one another. However, as wholesome as these shows appear on the surface, they have their fair share of controversies. Especially the GBBO, which has a whole section on Wikipedia about its numerous controversies. Everything from issues with product placement, to contestant favouritism, to unfair elimination, production woes, leak of a winner, and even accusations of “racism” aimed at its “Nationally themed weeks” (a post for another time).
All of these issues pale in comparison to the controversy I am going to cover today. Also, unlike the show I am going to discuss, the GBBO has survived every controversy that plagued it. After 13 seasons, it is still running strong.

Chop Chop Chop: What is the Chop?

Announced in June 2020, The Chop: Britain’s Top Woodworker, was a show unsurprisingly about carpentry. It was originally planned to air on the Sky History channel. Sky is a British broadcaster.
Here is the full description:

Hosted by comedian Lee Mack, TV Presenter Rick Edwards and Master Carpenter William Hardie, The Chop: Britain’s Top Woodworker sees 10 of the country’s finest carpenters gather in Epping Forest to whittle, carve and chop their way to the final, to see who will be crowned Britain’s Top Woodworker and the chance to stage their own personal exhibition at the prestigious William Morris Gallery in London.
Master Carpenter William Hardie oversees the construction of a grand and spectacular cabin in the woods, adding a new room every week, each on a different historical theme, including Nelson’s cabin on HMS Victory, a Victorian pub, a Gothic bedroom, a Georgian hunting lodge, and a 1960s’ Mad Men-inspired lounge.

It followed a standard reality show format. Every week, someone wood be eliminated until a clear winner emerged. Viewers had a lot to look forewood to. Hopefully the show would be able to carve out its own niche. Okay, enough would puns. I know you’re all on-board.
Like most British reality tv shows, The Chop had a comfortable atmosphere, with friendly presenters that would engage in ribbing with one another and the contestants. Here are some early trailers for the show: one and two. The show was filmed pre-covid lockdown.

Mack, 52, said: “It’s quite ironic that everything was filmed pre-lockdown and pre-Covid and yet most of the contestants spend most of the time with a mask on, because it’s woodwork.
“So people will watch it and go: ‘Well they’re obeying the rules but Rick and Will aren’t’, but actually it was filmed a long time ago – this time last year.”

So, the winner was set in wood, long before the first episode aired. If you want to know more about the contestants, I found their official show biographies.
The focus of this writeup will be a guy named Darren:

Name: Darren
Age: 40
From: Bristol
Occupation: CarpenteJoiner
Background: Darren has been working in woodwork since he left school, he loves the variety that each day brings. Darren has two children and loves building them wooden items. His favourites were special beds and wardrobes he made for his children which included LED lights.

Meet Darren: Aka “The Woodsman”, Aka “the-Bloke-With-All-The-Tattoos”.

Early on, out of all the contestants, Darren was hyped up as a potential audience favourite:

It remains to be seen which of the contestants, seven men and three women, will become the viewers’ favourite, although Darren, a furniture maker from Bristol, is an early frontrunner.
Nicknamed ‘The Woodman’, his entire face is covered in tattoos and he’s not averse to making controversial statements.
‘He’s quite a character,’ says Lee. ‘We met him again at a photo shoot recently and he’d had more tattoos etched on top of his other tattoos, which I thought showed an incredible level of commitment to the cause.’

His tattoos became a key part of his marketing for the show. This was reflected in his character trailers, as well as in interviews about the show.

Darren is probably one of the show’s most striking characters, due to the fact he is very heavily tattooed – even on his head and face.
He started having his head and face tattooed around 10 years ago.
“I had other tattoos already,” he said.
“But about 10 years ago I saw someone with facial tattoos and started to work with my tattooist on my look.
“I have my daughter on the back of my head and my son on my cheek.
“When some people first meet me they are a bit shocked, admittedly.
“But they soon warm to me after a few minutes.
“Some people ask for selfies with me. I’ve never had a negative reaction to my tattoos. They are just me.”
Darren says his appearance on the show, since the trailers have gone out, has prompted people to recognise him.
“I’ve already been stopped by people who have seen the adverts.
“No one went on the show to become famous.
“But hopefully it will come across on the show that I’m a bit of a character.

There was another difference between Darren and the other contestants: he had prior experience with reality tv.
In 2007, Darren (without any tattoos) starred in “Dumped”, a show in which 11 contestants lived in a garbage dump for three weeks, in a shelter they constructed from discarded rubbish.
Darren quit after three days. He said he did it because he didn’t believe in the aims of the show

Not all the participants were convinced. Darren Lumsden, 27, owns four cars, only recycles because his rubbish would not be taken away otherwise, and throws away his pants and socks at the end of every day. He left the dump on day three. "With me it's a bit like the smoking ban – I'll only be green if I'm forced to be." Lumsden also says rumours that some local authorities only recycle half of what goes into their green bins reduce the incentive.

He also told fellow contestants: “I don't believe that what we are going to do is going to achieve anything. If I don't believe in it I won't be doing any good for myself or other people.”.
Well, he certainly achieved something with his next reality tv appearance…

On the chopping block. The controversy

The first episode of The Chop aired on October 15, 2020. Shortly afterwards, some viewers noticed certain...things about Darren’s tattoos. Certain numbers and symbols…were linked to white supremacy.

“Darren appears to have these two on his face 88 = HH = Heil Hitler 23/16 = WP = White Supremacy There's also: 18 = AH = Adolf Hitler 1488: a reference to the so-called 14 words, coined by white supremacist terrorist David Lane.”

Darren also had a sig rune on his nose…the SS symbol used by the Nazis.
Sky History was criticised by historians and antisemitism groups.

After the trailer for the programme was aired, historian Dr Elizabeth Boyle from Maynooth University in Ireland said she had seen "at least five recognised Nazi/white power tattoos".
The Campaign Against Antisemitism group also criticised Sky History, saying it had made "a terrible mistake" by including a contestant "adorned with what appear to be neo-Nazi tattoos without providing serious evidence to show that the tattoos mean something other than how they appear".
"These tattoos will be plainly visible to viewers on the show, including younger viewers, which is unacceptable," it said.
"If Sky History is indeed 'intolerant of racism' as it claims, then it must urgently provide a credible clarification or remove the contestant from the programme."

They were quick to respond, and initially defended Darren:

"Darren’s tattoos denote significant events in his life and have no political or ideological meaning whatsoever.
"Amongst the various numerical tattoos on his body, 1988 is the year of his father’s death.
“The production team carried out extensive background checks on all the woodworkers taking part in the show, that confirmed Darren has no affiliations or links to racist groups, views or comments.
“Sky History is intolerant of racism and all forms of hatred and any use of symbols or numbers is entirely incidental and not meant to cause harm or offence.”
“While we further investigate the nature, and meaning, of Darren’s tattoos, we have removed the video featuring him from our social media pages, and will not be broadcasting any episodes of The Chop: Britain’s Top Woodworker until we have concluded that investigation,” the statement said.

The media contacted Darren’s old boss, who had some interesting things to say about his former employee:

Logically also contacted Jon Hyams, a former employer of Darren’s who runs a company in Bristol building staircases. Jon said that Darren, who worked for him in 2008, was a “good kiddy,” with no ties to the far right that he could remember, though he thought he had “gone off the rails a bit” since then. He also said that Darren was always very keen to become famous and had participated in an earlier reality TV show on Channel 4. Darren was partial to a tall tale or a bit of exaggeration, according to Jon, who said that the comment about his dad’s death should be “taken with a large pinch of salt”.

Jon was right. Darren was a liar.

The aftermath. If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does anyone actually care?

It took the Daily Mail (a notorious rag) less than a day to track down Darren’s father and interview him:

The father of Sky History's The Chop contestant Darren Lumsden today declared 'I'm alive' after the channel claimed he was dead to defend his son’s Nazi-style tattoos.
But today his 66-year-old parent revealed he was very much alive - and living in a smart three-storey house in Bristol, not far from his carpenter son.
Trevor told MailOnline: 'I'm here aren't I?' I'm alive and kicking so I'm not dead yet.'
Darren's father has short term memory loss after a serious motorbike crash more than 30 years ago.
He lives in a shared house and has support workers popping in to help every day.
The father added: 'I haven't seen Darren for some years, I didn't know he had tattoos over his face or that he was going to be on TV.
'But if they are saying I'm dead I'd like them to know I'm not.'
Trevor, originally from Stockton-on-Tees had two sons, Darren with his former wife Gail and Wayne from another relationship.
His support worker, who didn't want to be named, said: 'I've never seen either of them and I've been looking after him for 10 years.
'Trevor has short term memory loss after a brain injury in a motorbike accident but he remembers his two sons.
'He's a lovely man and very much alive.'
Sky History today thanked MailOnline for highlighting The Chop contestant Darren Lumsden's apparent lie about the origin of his controversial tattoos.

Woah. It seems Darren is kind of an asshole.
Following this 💣, Sky History quickly cancelled the show and shelved the rest of the episodes. The Chop had been…well, chopped.
Thankfully, for carpentry fans everywhere, it didn’t take long for another woodworking show to fill the void left by The Chop’s abrupt cancellation. Handmade: Britain's Best Woodworker started airing in 2021. Its third season aired in 2023.
And that’s all I have to say about The Chop.
(I might write about The Great British Bake Off next!)
If you want to read more stuff I have written, here is a link to all of my writeups!

Hi, I didn't really see much on here outside of decorative ladders. Hopefully this question is welcome here.
I was hoping this sub could give me some tips and ideas for a ladder build using relatively cheap wood and limited tools. All I have is a miter saw, jigsaw, hand saw, and drills. I also bought some wood chisels but I don't think I'm skilled enough to use them for precision. Things I've seen on youtube generally use a bunch of tools I just don't have access to right now or they look questionable to me as someone without any experience with woodworking.
For context; I just finished making my wife some tall built in bookshelves. The plan is to then install a library ladder. We got the rail kits and all but after the amount of money weve spent on materials already I really dont want to spend $300+ on a pre-made wooden ladder.

Hello there, meeting new people is pretty hard since i don't really speak the language of the country i reside in, which is Belgium. So maybe the internet will provide an oppertunity to look for something special. I'm looking to eventually move to an english speaking country, just so you know what to expect.
I'll start off with my appearance, i'm 6"4 with long flowy blonde hair. I'm white, and pretty bulky, though i've been losing weight for a while now and plan on continuing. I'm trying to grow a mustache with a soulpatch, i've downgraded from a beard because i doubt that's happening. And I've got emerald green eyes.
In terms of the type of relationship i'm looking for: I lean much more towards a very romantic relationship that's very loving, bordering on cheesy sometimes. I definitely don't mind being in a long distance relationship, but id love to meet up. Cuddling and holding hands is very fun.
I'm currently working as a freelance video editor, trying to work on myself to a point where I'm happy with whom I am. My hobbies are a bit limited right now, eventually i'd like to get into woodworking, cooking and continuing my guitar playing. But for now im sticking more to playing video games and starting a twitch/ youtube channel.
Thanks for reading, i'll hear from you soon!

So, I posted a room box of Daniel Waterhouse's office last year, and I'm back again making another Stephenson miniature. This time it's an Anathem-themed book nook. I have a premade book nook, I've used my laser cutter to make different styles of "stained glass" cutouts in some of the panels, and a resin printer to make a tower that will be seen in the far distance (via the included mirror). I've made a small cubby section that I'll fill with small rolls of paper, and plan to hang a bolt, chord, and sphere in the space below it. There's a space that I'll make into a chalk hall. The windows I've made include a stylized analemma, the geometer's proof, and Hylaea and the triangle, as well as some more basic stained glass looking ones. I've also etched the overlapping circles from the music CD above the opening to the chalk hall.
So, I feel like it's a good start... but I want it to feel more lived-in and definitely include more easter eggs for the book. Where I'm stuck is kind of on materials. I have a ton of fabric, so the bolt shouldn't be an issue. Also a lot of thread, and I'm thinking about braiding some gold thread to make the chord. I'm not sure about the sphere, though. I feel like a marble with some element of glow in the dark or in an unusual material would be cool, though I don't want it to look like a toy. I'm trying to figure out how to make little tire sandles as well.
What other elements would you add? I'm limited in space at this point, but will add whatever I can. Oh, and to make it more fun, I have a deadline: our wedding anniversary next weekend!

I’m planning on making a small vanity for my gf this summer, I’ve got a decent amount of woodworking experience through various construction jobs and college experience, but I’m not that good at material knowledge.
I’d like the finish to be white without grain visible, so also any tips on finish work greatly appreciated.

Looking for a mental double check. I am aiming more on the hybrid side and not a hand woodworker. Cleaning up joints etc. I do not have space for a jointer or planer right now on the power tools side so I am hoping to do a little flattening as well as using a shooting board. Right now I have a couple junk planes that have not really done what I needed.
So I plan on making one of my junkers a scrub plane or tossing them.
So my plan was to order from Veritas over time (one complete per order) and first grab the low angle jack plane with an extra iron at fifty degrees (or should it be the 38?) and second a low angle block plane as well from them. Not sure on the blade choices as i plan on buying a second.
And as an addon also a Veritas Flush Plane as that looks like it will make my glue up cleaning so much easier lol. And I was considering the Veritas Cornering Tool Set.
So why low angle? I just want to take a variable out of the mix so no more chip breaker since it is low angle. And I figure I can make more irons (although I only have AEB-L and 1095 on hand) or reprofile to my hearts content.
Does this plan make sense?
Sadly I don't even want to mess with the junk planes with the alignment issues and lack of flatness. Harbor Freight and Lowes. Relearning about planes 30 years later... and a few missteps were taken. And I am OK sharpening or slightly tuning... I want tools to work on my projects not tools to be my projects.
Thanks for following the meandering thought.

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Edited by WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
- - - - -
The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
- - - - -
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