26F Since yesterday my little finger has been stuck in the flexion position (during the day it's less worse than in the morning), when I want to make an extension movement I have to force it very hard, it unlocks suddenly and it's painful. I use my hands a lot at the moment because I'm on crutches and I do a lot of activities like embroidery, playing video games on a controller or musculation, what could that be please?

Does anyone know of a free digitizing software that has a cross stitch setting? I've barely been able to find cross stitching in paid ones, from googling, and it seems like not a popular setting or search (from what I can see)... I've recently started hand cross stitching and I love it for relaxing, but I realized it would take up too much time to sell stuff and keep a decent price for people to buy. I've been thinking about getting an embroidery machine for a while now and it would be cool to maybe add this to a stitch I could make!
Any help is greatly appreciated! 🙏🏻

More misery bird? More misery bird. Really miserymaxxing with these fics I have going, but hey, this one is not that miserable actually! Krekos is back and ready to be dense and downcast, but maybe not quite miserable? Read and see!
Big thank you to NoP community for being great and supportive of my endeavors!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 6th, 2137
I stare at the foul creature before me. Normally staring at something directly head on like that would be too predatory for me to do, but after nearly dying of bread yesterday, I didn’t feel patient enough to be gentle. The creature stared right back, though in a much more natural, prey-like way, tilting its head slightly as it looked back at me with one eye and let out a long bwok.
“Are you doing this now? Really?”, I ask, knowing full well it cannot respond.
Well, it can, if another bwok it made is any indication. Of course, translators aren’t yet advanced enough to translate non-sapient speech, but the intention behind sound is intuitively clear. It’s telling me to back off. Well, I tried the diplomatic approach at least.
Raising my wing I begin sliding the bird out of its nest, careful to keep any delicate joints out of its reach. It started clucking in upset indignation, struggling back and even trying to peck at me, but after realizing that I will not relent, it hopped out of the box and rushed out of the cattle house, revealing a single dead egg in the nesting box.
With relief, I finally pick up the last egg and head back to leave them at the house. Turns out that while Reginald didn’t forget to both lock them up yesterday and let them out today, he did neglect feeding them both times, as well as collecting the harvest. So when I was driven back here in early morning, the first thing I did was making sure they were taken care of. I can’t say the horrid birds looked in any way hungry, but the moment I poured the feeding grain for them, they attacked it with more viciousness than I’d expect of an actual predator. And yet only thirteen were present at the feeding, as the one that’s usually the target of flock’s ire remained in the cattle house yet again, Reginald leaving it to it, being unaware of its undesirable habit of trying to hatch dead eggs.
With eggs delivered, I flew my way to my usual spot atop the cattle house and could finally relax. The loner beast first made its way to feast on the scraps of the grain that other birds already all have had their fill of, so I wasn’t too concerned. Instead I tried to reflect on the morning I had so far.
Waking up at the hospital did make me momentarily panic before I remembered the precluding events. Not that I could properly panic, feeling the most starved I’ve been my whole life, and too weak to try flying out of the window. Thankfully, the breakfast they provided was actually well made with krakotl needs in mind, algae soup alongside a few slices of bread, this time without any horrid human ideas like putting eggs in there. Eggs! Turns out they put eggs in some kinds of bread! That’s how I got sick! Eggs! The thought of what I consumed even now made me queasy, and it definitely made breakfast a much less appetizing affair than it would have been without that knowledge, but back then the hunger won over the disgust.
Lena did keep her promise and came to pick me up extra early. Her being a staff member at the hospital gave her some extra privilege, I assume, hence why I was released without any forms needing to be filled out personally. She did have important business today too, which probably explained the earlyness and urgency of her driving me back to her house.
That did not mean I escaped her ire, however. While I couldn’t pinpoint anything to identify the man, as Bob was apparently a common name, that offered me bread, we did come to understanding that he was likely either unaware of the nutritional contents of it, or of extent to which the Cure-induced allergy would be affecting a krakotl. Yet, Lena seemed much angrier at me for failing to take any precautions. Turns out that was the purpose of medicinal injectors, epipens as humans call them, that were provided to me. I was supposed to have them on me in case I accidentally ingested contaminated food. Nobody told me that, I was just handed them back when I first received the necessities at the refugee camp and I had no clue what they were for. Then she also berated me for eating random food from strangers and ignoring bad flavors. Turns out that brioche bread isn’t actually bitter at all, and that was my body reacting to an allergen in it. Reaction that I unwisely elected to ignore, to further ire of my host. By the end, several new rules of my stay here were made, including not eating things I don’t know and always having at least one epipen on me. Thankfully, these rules would be ones I’d start following even without them being established, so I won’t have to concern myself with being kicked out over accidentally breaking them.
As if following the rules will be enough to make them like you.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of yesterday’s incident, I focused my attention on the flock. All birds accounted for, so at least I knew that my absence did not result in the predator coming to snatch one of them. I do not wish to insult my hosts, but Reginald is far from most attentive people in matters unrelated to his job, and I am not sure the birds were watched at all while I was out. Speaking of, my scannings of surrounding treelines revealed no sign of the predator today. Perhaps it departed to hunt elsewhere, or maybe it ventured too close to a more populated area and exterminators dealt with it.
Actually, did human exterminators work similar to Federation ones? I knew for a fact they had them, although they seemed like a market of private organizations if advertisements are anything to judge by. Still, what methods do they use? I know humans oppose fire, and do not believe in predatory taint, but surely they have measures to protect themselves? They are, by self-admission, far from the best natural predator, and I doubt Earth’s non-sapient predators would just leave humans be. Maybe I should call one of those human exterminator agencies and call them in to deal with that predator? I haven’t told Lena or Reginald about it, as I didn’t want to bother them, but it could pose a serious threat to the cattle, but maybe that’s the way I could resolve it without involving them?
I have not done nearly as much research into human culture and lifestyle as I should have, considering that I’ve lived on Earth for over half a year now, but the sheer width of the topic always overwhelmed me the moment I opened internet search app to the point where I just closed it right away.
And you expect to start studying again with that attitude? You’ll flunk out even from this primitive predator education course.
Extra loud call from the flock made me refocus my attention on them, but it was nothing. Just the loner getting pecked extra hard and lashing out against assailants, causing a small aimless stampede as all the birds ran around in circles, puffing up at one another. The assailants now looked a lot more like victims. I could understand those birds more than I could humans at least. The loner bird is clearly an odd one out. It’s the only one repeatedly trying to hatch unfertilized eggs it lays, and it seems to always avoid the rest of the flock. Humans may deny the existence of Predator Disease, but they can’t deny that prey and predator both can and will sometimes behave in unnatural ways that may threaten the herd's safety. Or pack’s, in case of humans. Birds must know on instinctual level that the loner’s behavior is unnatural and are attempting to combat the Predator Disease on instinctual level. And since that is natural, I still will not interfere in this, unless the loner bird actually becomes a threat to others or will start getting too injured. The first time I attempted to pick one of the birds up was the only time for a good reason, as I have learned their viciousness all too well.
DING-DING
The sudden loud ring startled me enough that I nearly tumbled off the roof. Who would be coming over now? Lena and Reginald have left together and shouldn’t be back until afternoon, and they’d never use the bell. That means someone must be here for them. But wouldn’t they warn anyone to not come over? Especially with their plans for today.
With nobody to answer these questions, I had no choice but to go and discover the answer myself, flying up and over the house, towards the entrance gate. The moment I passed the house roof, I already saw a familiar silhouette. It was the human child from a few days ago.
Thankfully, Lena’s insistence on me carrying an epipen at all times meant I also carried my satchel at all times too, so I didn’t have to go grabbing my holopad, and took it out. But before I could even launch the translator TTS app to type out a greeting, the child was already hopping in place with excitement.
“Mr. Krekos! Hi! I came over to visit!”, she exclaimed, showing off her teeth in an unnerving expression of human joy. I simply tried to avoid that and focused on the pad, typing out my response.
“Hello, Rosie. Why are you here?”
The question was genuine, as the child was not carrying any more of that honey substance from last time.
“I just came over to visit you! Is that okay? Are Mr. and Ms. Vince okay with it?”
Visit... me? Why? While I was confused, I did instinctively type out a reply.
“They did tell me visitors are allowed as long as there’s no trouble when I first moved in.”
And before I could type a followup message asking her why she’s here, she already let out a joyous roar and ran past me.
“Can I see the chickens?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer, rushed past the house and towards the cattle yard.
“Wait! You’ll scare them!”, I yell after her, but of course without a translator she can’t understand me as she runs like she already knows where to go.
And indeed she has, quickly rushing up to the open field where the birds were grazing. Thankfully she didn’t start chasing them, instead just approaching the flock from a distance and swaying in place, watching them with what I assume was some sort of predatory excitement at the sight of prey. Maybe that’s where the contained hunting instinct of human children showed themselves? In chasing small birds? I was still more subdued, considering she stopped shy of causing a small stampede, but still.
“Grandpa used to take me with him! He helped watch this farm until Mr. and Ms. Vince moved in. I like chickens! I think they’re cute.”, the child told me innocently as she kept swaying and watching as the beasts grazed upon insects of the pasture.
That revelation was... interesting. I suppose it makes sense that between the original owner of this land dying in the bombings and Lena and Reginald moving in, it would be unattended. With nobody to feed and watch over those things, they would be long dead for sure. And it was Rosie’s grandfather... Speaking of. I typed out my words.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”
She seemed to get a weird look as she stopped her excited swaying, fiddling with her hands instead. Looks like I asked the correct question.
“...he knows I am out visiting neighbors.”
That did not answer my question. I squinted at the human child, and she dipped her head as she continued.
“...he doesn’t know I’m here specifically. Or that an alien even lives here...”, she explained, her tone suddenly more sullen.
I couldn’t help but squint at that, and it appears that my expression was readable enough that even a human could see the suspicion, as she continued.
“I’m sorry... But if I told grandpa, he’d tell me I’m forbidden from talking to you, like he forbade me from talking to hedgehog people in town... But I want to talk to you! You’re nice and you’re a space bird!”
The child was actually working around the rules established by her guardian to come see me. I don’t know if I should be glad or concerned. Clearly, the man is anti-alien in his opinions, and I’d rather that kind of man not know about how close he lives to one. At the same time, I’d rather not encourage a child for lying to their guardian in order to meet a stranger they know they aren’t allowed to interact with... So I just took the middle path with my next message.
“I see. What did you want to talk to me about then?”, TTS speaks for me.
Her stiffened body language disappears, replaced again with earlier excitement.
“I wanna know more about space! And aliens! It’s all so cool but grandpa says it’s all dangerous because mom and dad died. But it’s not! The hedgehog people were nice, and you’re nice too!”
I wasn’t sure about that logic, but my self-preservation told me I shouldn’t try convincing her to go confessing. Instead I focused more on her chosen topic.
“I am not sure I am the best person to ask about space. I am not a scientist or traveler.”
“But you’re from there! You know way more than me. I don’t even know what you are called. And there’s gotta be cool things out in space!”
I let out a sigh. I suppose it’s childlike curiosity at its finest. So unfamiliar with mundane that it is a wonder. I remember being like that about becoming a doctor.
And then you let your teacher die.
I quickly tapped on the pad.
“Okay, I can answer questions, but I may not know everything.”
The noise that came out of the girl was like a squeal of a panicked dossur as she started hopping and spinning in place.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Mr. Krekos!” Sudden movement did cause me to recoil a bit, which in turn caused her to cease her happy flailing and adjust her little dress. “I dunno where to start though... Hm... What are you?”
...for all my trepidation about not knowing answers, I should have anticipated that the questions she asks will be rather age-appropriate and on the same level as we learn in our first school classes. At least I won’t disappoint her then.
“I am from a species called ‘krakotl’. We’re avians, as is obvious. Our home is...” dead, gone, reduced to glass and ash by our own hubris “...was Nishtal. A beautiful planet...”
Thankfully she did not question my hesitant pause. Instead she just nodded along.
“What about the hedgehog people? I already know venlil, but they’re the only ones I know name of.”
Hedgehog people in town she mentioned earlier. The only species I could think of that could be seen there would be the gojid. I have no clue what hedgehogs are, but probably some creature with visible similarity to them.
“They are called ‘gojid’, and they’re from gojid Cradle. Both of our species are... well, used to be known for our might and protecting other species of Federation.”
I am not sure if that’s something to brag about, considering... everything. But I didn’t want this child to get brought down with depressing regrets of our species. Let her know something nicer instead. She clearly lost a lot, but there’s still joy left in her. I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Cool! What about other people? I wanna know more!”
And so I went on, telling her about various species, although I mostly focused on ones in this new human-led union, only mentioning kolshians and farsul beyond that. It’s weird explaining to a child what a tilfish or a harchen looks like, but thankfully my holopad isn’t just a method of communicating with implant-less children. With access to interstellar web, I could easily pull up pictures of various alien species to show to her, even if she struggled to believe that some of them were even sapient purely based off of looks. With how varied species in Federation are, and how some of us admittedly aren’t too far physiologically from our more primal ancestors.
Among other topics, she asked me to tell her interesting things, which I didn’t know much of. I told her about Venlil Prime’s tidally locked status, a rarity among habitable planets, much less homeworlds for species. I told her about the unique architecture of Mileau, designed to accommodate both species of regular size and dossur themselves. I told her about Colia medical academies, some of the most beautiful medical facilities in the galaxy.
I wish I was more well-travelled, but I just wasn’t. My whole life, I never left Nishtal until the extermination fleet took me despite my protests. That may have been what saved my life...
Not that I, of all people, deserved it...
“Hey! Stop that!”
I flinched as I heard the child yell, but quickly realized that it wasn’t directed at me. Instead, Rosie was rushing down towards the chicken flock, breaking up the fight in which the loner was being pecked by a few larger chickens. As the human child approached, the birds stopped their infighting and scattered in different directions, crowing in loud panic and discontent. On instinct, I found myself rushing towards the child, forgetting about translation entirely.
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch them!”
I didn’t want her to hurt the cattle accidentally, and I didn’t want her to get hurt by the angry birds in return. But, it seems like the moment the birds scattered, she was satisfied with her actions and turned back to me, wearing another one of her happy smiles.
“Sorry, Mr. Krekos, I just saw chickens being mean. Bad chickens.” She explained.
I was baffled. Why would she interfere like that? When I tried that back when I was just starting, that got me pecked! But with her, the birds just scattered. What if they pecked her?
I took the pad out again and started typing quickly.
“That was dangerous. Why did you do that? What if they attacked you? Why are you even interfering in their natural dynamics?”, questions flowed out of my pad with an artificial human voice.
The girl simply giggled.
“They’re chickens! They aren’t dangerous. They don’t peck that painful and I’ve been scratched worse before. And I have to stop it because bullying is wrong.”
Then she actually noticed that the one that was being attacked wandered close. She casually approached it from behind, the blind spot and just reached down and grabbed it, picking the bird up. I was ready to rush to help the bird when...
“Mwah! There, all better.”
She did a human ‘kiss’ on the back of the cattle bird’s neck before releasing it, the surprise of it causing it to rush off. I knew what kisses were, I’ve seen enough of them between Lena and Reginald, but I believed they were gestures of intimate affection, not... what was even that?
It seems Rosie noticed my confusion as she explained.
“You gotta kiss it so it heals better! That’s what mom taught me.” The child displayed that smile of hers shamelessly. With how much I was being exposed to it, it almost wasn’t unnerving anymore. Still, it was interesting to learn that kisses are seen as something that helps wounds. I guess some species do have saliva with mild antiseptic properties, wouldn’t be too out there to assume humans are the same. And if that’s the case, maybe that’s how the kissing tradition started? Exchange of protective fluid between lovers?
“I see. I did not know that.” I responded before letting my puffed feathers relax. Okay, this whole ‘watching a human child’ thing is turning out to somehow be even more stressful than I expected at first.
“Wait, Mr. Krekos, what time is it?” She suddenly asked, looking up at the sky.
“It’s nearly twelve.” I respond, holopad having a convenient clock for local time.
“Oh no! I need to be home soon! Was nice seeing you Mr. Krekos gotta go bye!”
Before I had even a chance at typing out an answer or my own goodbye, the child sprinted away and back towards the entrance. I had to take flight just to keep up, and even then she just turned around, waved her arm at me and then kept sprinting down the road after leaving the gate. I simply offered a small wave of a wing back before locking the gate again. I suppose it is hard to keep track of time without a device or clock nearby...
Well, at least I had the usual peace and quiet now. And learned a bit more about the creatures I was in charge of. I should really try to deal with my aversion to looking things up on the human internet...
Just as I was about to head back out towards the yard, I heard a loud car horn, a familiar one, getting my attention. Lena’s car. There they were, signaling me, probably having spotted me at the gate from afar. Deciding to make use of my presence here, and hoping to avoid needing to explain that I had a surprise visitor earlier, I went ahead and opened the large gate, allowing the car to enter.
Once it was parked in the usual space, the doors opened and three people came out. Lena and Reginald were both looking a bit disheveled, but their faces carried these smiles that seemed wider than ever before. And third person... Was a stranger. A human I knew of, but never actually met. As he exited the car, a large bag in one hand, he just stared at me, standing in the front yard...
“...okay, I expected many things when I was told you guys housed a refugee, but not this.”
Oh no. Oh no, he was not one of the ones that was willing to overlook an invader that partook in bombing of his planet being allowed to walk free, of course, Lena and Reginald were the weird ones like that, doesn’t mean their son won’t be... I felt the panic rising as I realized I’d need to return to the camp. Why was I upset about that? This was supposed to just have been a way to make money, but now I have a free education program. Do I need to stay? No, but... Why?! Why do I not want to leave?
“Ken, you said it’s going to be alright no matter what it is, right? Wanted us to keep it a surprise to meet a new friend?” Lena’s voice. She should have told him, that’d give me time to prepare why didn’t they give me time why.
“No, no problems, just, really surprised, that’s all... uh... hey, buddy, you okay? You’re really... trembly.”
He was approaching me, and instinct took over as I recoiled, before stuttering out my answer.
“I-I’m fine...”
...thankfully translators don’t translate voice cracks. I hope, at least...
“Hey, relax... I have no problem with you being a krakotl, I just didn’t think...” He looks over at Lena and Reginald. “Calm down... I can wear my visor if you want?”
Right. Those things humans use to hide their scary faces from us.
“I... I’m good...”
Why would it last? It almost felt good after all.
There was some emotion I struggled to read on the young human’s face, as he sighed and shook his head.
“I screwed this up, I’m sorry. Let... Let me try again.” He straightened out, and adjusted his clothing, before slowly approaching me and giving me a small smile, no teeth showing. “Hello. My name is Kenneth Vince and I'm son of Lena and Reginald Vince. I was told you’re a refugee they took in to help out. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
That... snapped me out of it. Right... He was... not upset at my existence. He was just very surprised that Lena and Reginald weren’t. That’s a reasonable thing to be surprised about, considering I was surprised about it to this day. I tried to compose myself as I responded.
“My name is Krekos. I live here as... hired help with the cattle. It’s... nice to meet you?”
The smile on Kenneth’s face widens, though he still refrains from showing his teeth. Instead, he extends a hand towards me. A handshake is a human gesture that I found far from comfortable, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind on acceptability of my existence, so I took it with a wingclaw. He gently took it and held for a few seconds before letting go and sighing again, turning to his parents.
“You know, I always thought you guys would be empty nesters, but I never thought it’d be that literal.”
That got all three of them laughing, as I just tilted my head in confusion. I was fairly sure there were no empty nests in the house until after I adjusted the attic room for my own accommodations. Still, I took the laughter as a sign that the tense moment had fully passed and let my ruffled feathers slowly rest.
“Let’s head inside. Krekos, we’re having dinner, you’re welcome to join us.” Reginald said, picking up Kenneth’s bag. I tilted my head a little and he followed up with elaboration. “We will be having meat... But there’s still going to be stuff you can eat too. It’s a celebration, so I prepared a bit of everything.”
“Dad, you shouldn’t have!” Kenneth responded with embarrassment.
“None of that! Our son returned from the war, alive and a hero, and we can have a celebration. Krekos, I know you’re still... uncertain about meat so you don’t—”
“I’ll join.”
Wait, who said that? And why did they say that in my voice?
Wait, that was me. Why did I say that?
“That’s great to hear! I’ve got some nice steamed broccoli and some vegetarian fried rice as sides that you’ll enjoy!” Reginald smiled at me and I felt myself shrinking into my feathers. That the humans didn’t notice at least, proceeding into the house instead.
Well, looks like I signed my warrant. At least my bag and my epipen were on me in case something at the table triggers the allergy again. Would be rather unfortunate to have it happen two days in a row.
And that’s how, in just ten or so minutes, I found myself sitting at the dining perch, while humans took seats in chairs, all consuming chunks of roasted flesh and somehow managing to also stuff pieces of equally roasted plants in, and converse with one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell on first look, but despite their mouths being relatively small, especially for a predator, it seems they compensate for it by having those be near bottomless in both hunger and small talk.
I am not sure how I managed to shift my focus away from them consuming animal matter in front of me, however vat grown it might have been, and onto their conversation instead, but I succeeded. I suppose that was just part of me going native around predators. Soon, I’ll be the one feasting along with them before I know it, and snacking on those epipens to not die of it.
Like you could ever be on the same level as humans.
“So, Fahl? That’s where you were sent after the Battle of Earth?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. From what I heard, we got a light posting compared to guys at Sillis or Mileau. The most I had to deal with was some exterminator insurgents.”
That’s right. Since harchen participated in the Extermination Fleet, they were one of those who were occupied by humans during the war. It makes sense that there was at least some ground resistance.
“Honestly, the worst thing out there was the heat. Not the flamethrower kind, the climate. The place was so damn dry and hot. At least exterminators you could subdue or evade. Not so much with the scorching sun!”
I couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the idea of a predator being more afraid of hot weather than flamethrowers as I slowly pecked at the vegetables on my plate. Thankfully it was set far enough aside from any meat dishes that no contamination should occur, but I was still examining pieces before putting them in my mouth just in case.
Seems like reacting was a mistake though, as that brought Kenneth’s attention onto me. He finished chewing latest piece of flesh and pointed a fork at me.
“So, Krekos... Where are you from? Cradle was my guess, but I do know there were refugees from other places like Sillis too.”
That’s a weird question. Isn’t it kind of to be expected for a krakotl to be from our actual homeworld?”
“I’m from Nishtal.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kenneth chuckled, tossing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and swallowing before continuing, “I meant, where did you live? I kind of assumed you were born there, but it’s not like Nishtal had a chance to send refugees out, and if they did, this is the last place they’d be.”
Oh... I caught concerned looks of Lena and Reginald, looking between me and Kenneth from both sides. Not only did they not make him aware that I was a krakotl, they also neglected to mention just how I came by my refugee status... Which was just a legal workaround to grant me asylum without unnecessary complications or establishing undesirable precedent. Legally, I may be a refugee, but practically... I am a defector. Lena and Reginald know that, I told them my story before. And while they were weirdly accepting, Kenneth... Fought extermination fleet here on Earth. Personally.
Still, I wasn’t about to lie. It took a few moments and gathering mental strength to steel myself, and averting my eyes, focusing on the plate of warm vegetables in front of me rather than the human’s anticipating stare before I answered.
“I did live on Nishtal. I... I came with the extermination fleet.” I responded, doing my best to avoid looking at him. I did not want to witness his reaction, for some reason the thought of seeing it weighed heavy on my mind.
“Oh.”
The response was simple, and had no followup. There was no more clinking of cutlery against plates, or chewing. The only thing hanging in the air of the kitchen was silence, weighing down on me. It dragged on and on... until it just got so unbearable I couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m full... Thank you for the meal.” I quickly said, hopping off the perch and stepping out of the kitchen, quickly making my way to the yard and taking flight.
Fresh air of the outside and rush of it as I flew up and gained speed... I missed that. I knew it’s not safe to just fly over other people’s territory, so I corrected my course into doing large sweeping circles over the cattle yard and simply let my wings carry me.
Flying away from any danger is the only thing I’m good for anyway. The only thing I ever do.
I closed my eyes. With them closed and not focusing on my angle it feels like I’m actually flying away from all the troubles. Away from humans who barely tolerate my existence, away from gojid who see me as worse than a predator, away from Earth and all its incorrigible customs, away from horrid cattle, away from constant memories...
Flying feels nice. It may be a bit harder than it was home, but it’s still possible. I heard that on Venlil Prime or Mileau it’s much harder. But here? Just an extra flap of wings for every few paces and you’re just fine, free to soar the skies...
Alone. With no one to ever share it with me again.
Slowly I let my eyes open back to the bleak reality. Greenery of surrounding pastures and woods, bright blue skies and farmhouses dotted about here and there greeted me. I lowered my gaze down, focusing on what’s below. There they were, fourteen brown and black dots spread around the enclosed portion of the farm territory. I am not sure how much time I’ve spent flying in circles and trying to forget things but my wings were feeling a tad sore. Then as I just began slow descent, in same circular motion, I noticed that one of the birds, a familiar one, was being chased by several others. Recounting the morning, I tried putting the knowledge to action, and shifted direction of descent, swooping down. To my surprise, that actually worked, as the moment I got close to the ground, the cattle birds all got much louder and scattered in all directions, including the loner. Who, at least this time, got off unharmed. I suppose such pathetic flightless creatures would fear a flying one much more than they would when I just run up to them...
Swooping at them from the sky like a predator to intimidate them into behaving... Like an arxur warden.
With the fight preemptively broken up, I flutter up to the roof of the cattle house, to my usual position and rested my wings. I didn’t see any movement from the direction of the house, so I suppose the family is still busy unpacking. Since Kenneth joined the military just before the Battle of Earth, and Lena and Reginald only moved here after their actual house in city of New York got destroyed, it’d be the first time the human is seeing what is basically his new home. There was a room set aside for him since before I even moved in, and while there is also a guest room... That one did not have a large enough window to fit through, which did not feel comfortable. So when I asked for a space with a bigger window they only had an attic to offer. They seemed uncomfortable letting me live in a tiny room with slanted roof, but I found such space more comforting than I would have a large room with a window not large enough to fit even one fully spread wing through.
I wonder if Kenneth will need as much renovation as I did? The house is built for humans, but he never lived there before. Will he need to buy a more comfortable bed? Getting a proper nesting setup in place of a bed took a bit of effort, but I figured something out. Human sheets were comfortable enough for such, and sitting perches were thankfully not that hard to get thanks to help from the refugee administration. Maybe that’s the things that Lena went to buy yesterday? Kenneth’s preferred room decor?
I looked up to the sky to see the sun beginning to dim. I am not sure if it was me flying that long, or me losing track of time in my thoughts again, but the sun was beginning to set. I began my usual chores, putting out an evening meal and water for the beasts, and while they feasted, ate some myself. I was a bit hungry, having not properly finished lunch and about to skip dinner, but after the earlier conversation, I’d really rather avoid giving them the opportunity to talk to me.
After the birds had their fill, and by that I mean they emptied the tray as they always do, I let out the call, and they started funneling into the cattle house. The lonely straggler being first to go and hop into its nesting box. I bet tomorrow I will have trouble with getting her out of there again...
I took the moment to gather some eggs the birds left over course of the day, and once that was over and all of them were accounted for, I closed it up. When I flew down over to the house, there wasn’t anyone by the back door thankfully, so I just left eggs there, returned the basket, and returned to my room through the window.
Well, at least I didn’t get nearly killed today... That’s nice I guess?
I was about to check my holopad when there was a knock on the door. I approached and opened it to see... Kenneth. Standing in the doorway.
“Uh, hi, Krekos. I just, uh... Wanted to apologize again. I really wish mom and dad told me everything ahead of time... I just want you to know, I have no problems with you whatsoever, yeah? It’s just. Surprising, I guess, to hear all that. I didn’t think there were any defectors from the fleet at all... Just. Uh, please don’t worry about me?” He offered me a small smile, showing his canines before quickly correcting himself and doing a closed-lip one. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or make you feel unwelcome.”
I had to take a moment to contemplate his words. Was Lena and Reginald’s weirdness hereditary? He almost reminded me of how Reginald talked to me early on, with constant stumbling over the words, as well as constant reassurances that he is fine with me being here. Couple that with failing to avoid predatory mannerisms like eye contact and smiles like Lena tends to and you get this human. But most importantly and least understandably, there was the general fact of him and them just... welcoming me. I couldn’t understand why. I should be one sorry to them.
“N-No, it’s fine... I’m sorry for... intruding on you and your family.”
“No, no, dude, you’re fine! I mean, hell, I was considering entering one of those exchange programs before the bombings happened, and even after, well, I did my best at Fahl to be the perfect friendly soldier just there to make sure no more bombs drop on my home and not kill or conquer anyone. And then mom told me your story, and I can’t believe it... Just... If you have any issues, feel free to tell me. I’m not one of those racist pricks that are too pussy to even call themselves HF anymore because they know they’ll get their teeth knocked. I get that there aren't good or bad species, just people. And you seem like a decent guy if mom and dad’s judgment is to be trusted.” His smile widened, though it was clear from tension on his face that he had to take conscious effort to keep teeth hidden. “So, what I said earlier stands. Friends, right?”
He extends hand forward, for a second time today. I wasn’t sure if I knew this human long enough to call him a friend... Any human really. But it also seems like human definition of ‘friends’ is anyone they’re cordial and peaceful with. Which is weird. You’d think translators would properly use ‘acquaintance’ for that.
Still... We will be living in the same house now. I can’t just say no, and... I can’t come up with a reason to say no. Even him being a predator and a human is not something I could really say I object to, considering how... mundane that became to me over my time here.
So, with naught on my mind but acceptance of the situation, I extended my wing and grasped his hand with my claw. This time he actually gripped it tightly and moved it up and down, as I saw other humans do occasionally.
“Yeah... I guess that’d be for the best.” I responded, shrugging off the hesitation. Fresh start for a third time, I guess?
The human grinned, forgetting to hide his teeth entirely, but I was ready for it somehow and avoided outwardly reacting.
“Cool! Anyway, I’ll try to get some shuteye early, I couldn’t sleep on the overnight flight home. See ya!”
And with that he left. Well... That meeting went well I suppose?
I returned to my nest and picked up my holopad, returning to what I was doing. And there it was, something I awaited every day. A notification that I was messaged on mailing app. Opening the letter revealed the schedule for the study program. Which... only had one day marked on it. And a note that the rest of it will be figured out ‘as we go from there’. So it’s not a schedule, it’s just a mark for the day of the first meeting.
While a bit underwhelming, it was still exciting. It would be an all-alien class so I wouldn’t have to deal with humans’ incomprehensibility nearly as much, and it would allow me to finally return to pursuing what I actually dreamt of. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was precisely what I wanted after everything that happened, it was at least something for me to move towards.
...just two days until start. I wonder if there’s some required reading to prepare?
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The Plan of Independece of North America
Iguala
Americans, under whose name I aglutinate not only those born in America, but also the Europeans, Africans and Asians who reside in her: have the kidness to hear me. The nations that are called great in the expanse of the globe were once dominated by others, and until their enlightenment allowed them to establish their own opinion, they did not emancipate themselves. The Europeans who have achieved the greatest ilustration and political development were once slaves to the Romans; and this Empire, the greatest that history recognizes, resembles the Parent of a family, who in his old age sees his children and grandchildren separate from his house because they are already of age to form theirs, and set out themselves, preserving, respect, veneration and love, to its primitive origin.
Since three hundred years ago North America has been under the tutelage of the most Catholic and pious, heroic and magnanimous Nation. Spain educated and exalted her, forming those opulent cities, those beautiful towns, those provinces and expanded kingdoms that in the history of the universe will occupy a very distinguished place. With the populations and ilustration increased, and known to all, the branches of the natural opulence of the soil, its metallic richness, the advantages of its topographical situation, the damage caused by the distance from the center of its unity, and that the branch is the same has the trunk; The public and general opinion of all population is that of the absolute independence from Spain and from every other Nation. This is how the European thinks, and so do Americans of all origins.
This same voice that resonated in the town of Dolores, in the year 1810 and that caused so many misfortunes to the beautiful country of the delights, due to disorder, abandonment and other multitude of vices, also established public opinion that the general union between Europeans and Americans, Indians and indigenous people, is the only solid foundation on which our common happiness can rest. And who will doubt that after the horrific experience of so many disasters, there is not even one who stops lending themselves to the union to achieve so much good? European Spaniards: your homeland is America, because you live in her; In it you have your beloved wives, your tender children, your estates, commerce and goods. American people! Who among you can say that they don't descended from the Spanish? See the sweet chain that unites us: add the other ties of friendship, dependence and interests, education and language and the conformity of feelings, and you will see that the bonds are so close and so powerful, that the common happiness of the Kingdom must be made by all, gathered in a single opinion and in a single voice.
The time has come for you to manifest the uniformity of feelings, and that our union shall be the powerful hand that emancipates America without the need for foreign aid. At the head of a brave and determined army, I have proclaimed independence of North America. It is now free; she is the mistress of herself; She no longer recognizes or depends on Spain, nor on any other Nation. Hail her all as independent, and let our hearts sustain this sweet voice, united with the troops who have resolved to die rather than part with from such a heroic enterprise.
The army has no other desire than to preserve the pure and holy religion that we profess, and to ensure general happiness. Hear the solid foundations on which the army bases their resolution:
1st. The Catholic, apostolic, Roman religion, without tolerance of any other.
2nd. The absolute independence of this Kingdom.
3rd. Monarchical government tempered by a Constitution analogous to the country.
4th. Ferdinand VII, or those of his or another reigning dynasty will be the emperors, to find ourselves with a ready-made monarch and prevent the disastrous attacks of ambition.
5th. There will be a Junta, in the meantime the Cortes are created to make this plan effective.
6th. This Junta will be named gubernatorial and will be made up of the vocales and the Viceroy.
7th. The Junta will govern by virtue of the oath already taken to the King, in the meantime he appears in Mexico and takes it, and then all further orders will be suspended.
8th. If Fernandinand VII decide to not come to Mexico, the Junta or regency will rule in the name of the Nation, while the Cortes decide who must be crowned.
9th. This government will be supported by the Army of the Three Guarantees.
10th. The Cortes will decide whether the Junta should continue or be replaced by a regency while the Emperor arrives.
11th. The Cortes will work, after they meet, on the Constitution of the Mexican Empire.
12th. All its inhabitants, without any other distinction than their merit and virtues, are citizens suitable for any job.
13th. Their persons and property will be respected and protected.
14th. The secular and regular clergy are preserved in all their rights and properties.
15th. All branches of the State and public employees will remain as before, and only those who oppose this Plan will be removed, and replaced by those who are most distinguished in their adherence, virtue and merit.
16th. A protective army will be formed that will be called The Army of the Three Guarantees, and that will sacrifice itself, from the first to the last of its individuals, rather than suffer the slightest infraction of them.
17th. This army will observe the Ordinance to the letter, and its leaders and officers continue where they are, with expectations, despite vacant jobs and those they consider necessary or convenient.
18th. The troops of which it is composed will be considered as troops of the line and the same will be true for those that later embrace this Plan; Those who differ and the countrymen who want to enlist will be considered as national militia, and the arrangement and form of all of them will be dictated by the Cortes.
19th. The jobs will be given by virtue of reports from the respective chiefs, and in the name of the Nation provisionally.
20th. While the Cortes meet, crimes will be dealt with in full accordance with the Spanish Constitution.
21th. In the case of conspiracy against independence, imprisonment will be carried out, without moving on to anything else until the Cortes dictates the penalty corresponding to the greatest crime after Lesse divine Majesty.
22th. Those who try to sow division will be monitored and will be considered conspirators against Independence.
23th. Since the Cortes that are to be formed are Constitutional Cortes, the deputies must be elected under this concept. The Junta will determine the rules and the time necessary for this purpose.
Americans: Here is the establishment and creation of a new Empire. This is what the Army of the Three Guarantees has sworn, whose voice is carried by the one who has the honor of addressing it to you. Here is the object for whose cooperation it incites you. It does not ask you for anything other than what you yourselves must ask for and desire: union, fraternity, order, inner stillness, vigilance and horror of any turbulent movement. These warriors want nothing more than common happiness. Unite with their courage, to carry out a enterprise that in all aspects (if not for the small part that I have had in it) I must call heroic. Having no enemies to defeat, let us trust in the God of armies, who is also the God of peace, that all of us who make up this body of combined forces of Europeans and Americans, of dissidents and royalists, will be mere protectors, simple spectators of the great work that I have outlined today, and that the fathers of the country will touch up and perfect. Astonish the Nations of cultured Europe; See that North America emancipated itself without shedding a single drop of blood. In the transport of your joy say: Long live the holy religion we profess! Long live North America, independent of all the nations of the globe! Long live the union that made our happiness!
Iguala, 24 of february, 1821
Signed Agustin de Iturbide.

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

Hello, hopefully someone has maybe seen some similiar dress. Dress is fully machine knitted- wool/acryl blend, with 3d embroidery squarey things. I bought it in second-hand store, and it doesnt have any brand tag. I dont know how to put photo, so theres this drive link. https://drive.google.com/file/d/17iSpMC2p3lQbUVMZ1XTwdbQUoTcATDuv/view?usp=drivesdk

While splitting is in general a common defense mechanism which refers to the tendency to “split” people, things, beliefs or situations, it specifically said to be pervasivelly related and prevalent in cluster B disorders, a set of traits exibiting a high comorbidity with practitioners of non monogamy and polyamory. In other words, splitting is a very common defense mechanism that can be defined as the division or polarization of beliefs, actions, objects, dynamics or human beings into good and bad, wrong and right, false and true and so on, by focusing selectively on their positive or negative, pleasant or unpleant, satisfactory versus unsatisfying, permanent versus impermanent or perfect and imperfect, attributes. Splitting reality and the nature of sexual experience being unable to reconcile reality's imperfect nature as being impermanent (sometimes intense and sometimes less), flactuating (sometimes more and sometimes less), imperfect (sometimes satisfying and sometimes less), unpredictable ( some times good and sometimes less) ultimately reaching a point of cessation, is the main source of polyamorous and nonmonogamous splitting.
The most common delusions underlying this specific kind of perceptions are permanence, a sense of duality and subsequently the false way to achieve happiness (to cease suffering) . It is about the false belief that the inherent nature of reality is or can be never changing and permanent as well as the false perception of duality leading to the well known mentality of us against them. Subsequently, in (cluster B) narcissist terms this leads to demonozation of the others and consecration of self, based upon the false perception of others that paints them as being a collective enemy preventing us from achieving happiness (the hate of monogamy perceiving it as a threat to be eliminated and their adherents to be proselytized). Craving (hedonism) for more sex, for more partners and for more relationship as well as the aversion (hate) for monogamy and monogamous people are the most primal reason driving and perpetuating the social experiment of polyamory and nonmonogamy including the political movements behind them, hiding under the disguise of social reforms, whether they manifest themself as dynamic or are both exhibited as the dynamic (response) as well as the mental mechanism driving it, they are all forms of acting out of this ignorance (delusion or cognitive dissonance). Yet, as this can never be achieved, it does not lead to the cessation of suffering (aka. attainment of happiness) but only to more and more suffering). The ignorance of poly saturation, which is rooted in this kind of false perceprion, is not about having enough love and happiness but the suffering of the technically not being able to juggle more relationships though craving for all the above especially new partners, new sexual experiences and so on still exists
While some types of human suffering are solely arising in response to unpleasant or bad experiences, there are other types of suffering, for instances, those we have described above, that are arising from good and pleasant experiences once they involve a misperception of the impermanent, imperfect and conditioned reality. As I said, this second set of various and varied types of suffering are arising in response to pleasant and good experienced and the are closely and inherently tied to impermanence or change. (aka. “changing” states of reality and life). As with the other types of suffering, the origin of suffering all of them are basically relating to change and craving including the wish for the impermament good and pleasant feeling to continie and to last forever. We may acknowledge on some intellectual level this is impossible though down in our hearts we continue resist the the truth leading to attachments to our false belives and ignorant wishes and from here to suffering. And, therefore, the most primal source for polyamory and nonmonogamy is hedonism and delusion (not love). And the most primal source of polyamorous splitting is cognitive bias, misperception of suffering and reality, and the false sense of duality. We may understand relationships and people change but instead of accepting truth and reality, polyamorists and nonmonogamists suggest of fighting it, learn to be content of what we have and working on true self growth instead instead of misinterpreting self enhancement as a feast of decadence and hedonism. Back to psychology, it is important to understand that when we’re enjoying a pleasant experience, we crave for it to continue. In fact, we’ll go to extremes to keep it going (driving too fast, eating too much, craving more sex, more love, more relationships and more lovers). Suffering due to change, the impermanent and imperfect nature of reality and life, arises when, inevitably, the universal law of impermanence leaves that craving unsatisfied.
More profoundly and as I have already outlined here, it can be present during a pleasant experience too. There’s often an underlying unease or dissatisfaction even when we’re happy or joyful because, at a gut level, we know it won’t last. Yet, nothing that is impermanent can be fully satisfactory. A transient exprience which must sooner or later ending or face a varying degree of change, it can only render itself as unsatisfying. At best, our experience of their transience can only partiallty successfully be handled, and thus always lead to disappointment and from here at some point to frustration. This illustrates that hedonism and craving, whether sexual or otherwise, underlies this kind of suffering, relating to impermanemt, temporary, imperfect and conditioned reality. So, to make it more comprehensible, we can say that, first, there are pleasurable physical sensations arising from agreeable tangible impressions; And second, there are joyful state of mind arising from reviewing pleasant experinces. These two forms of happy states of mind please everyone, every human being. And all of them go after these two tempory happy states time and again, even to the extent of risking the destruction of their lives and bringing havoc, chaos, in it. When these states are attained, their happiness knows no bound. Nevertheless, while they are rejoicing with blissful contentment, if those experience cease to exist which have given them much intense delight and enjoyment disappears or get destroyed, great becomes their restlessness and frustration followed by intense suffering.
It is not only relevant to sexual experiences. It happens when the wealth being accumulated in the form of money or property suddenly is lost through one reason or another reason; it happens when death or separation comes to one's beloved member of the family, spouse or children. Folliwing this kind of pattern, the inevitable result is suffering. In extreme cases this inacceptance leads to mental issues. As we've seen, it's no wonder polyamorists and nonmonohamist belong overwhelmingly to the cluster B of mental disorders. Thus, these two forms of happiness, in a way, can be considered as having the seed of pain which is a form of suffering caused change. While they last, they may appear very enjoyable, only to be replaced by extreme grief and despair when they vanish. Hence, they are suffering all the same. In other words, the suffering of change arises from our inability to accept the truth of impermanence, or rather, from our tendency to supress or deny it. If the suffering from existentially unavoidable pain in life describes an experience we wish were over, the suffering of change can be seen as its opposite. So, we may have a partner and initially enjoy physical and emotional intimacy and its pleasure but deep down we know it's subjected to laws of impermanence, imperfection and change and ultimarely gradually to cessation. Deep down we know, as I have already said, that sometimes it can be intense and sometimes less, sometimes more and sometimes less, sometimes satisfying and sometimes less, some times good and sometimes less, and that the number of partners won't change this truth
So, we suffer even when experiencing pleasure, because deep down, we know it will eventually come to an end. Yes, there is suffering even in pleasure, indeed more subtle than what we overtly understand as pain. The suffering of change refers not only to the impermanence of our physical bodies or sexual pleasure, but in general also to the relief we assign to the raise we earned, the purchase of any material object, the meal we’re enjoying, and the relationships we cherish. All of it will someday change and ultimatelly. And having more will not only not achieve the goal of saturation but ultimatelly only create more suffering especially when it ceases. Now, ultimately, we don't have to deal with less suffering relating to cessation and change but more. And instead of accepting and embracing the change with wisdom, compassion and love, we resist it with ignorance, greed and aversion. Polyamory and nonmonogamy are no eception for that rule. In fact, they increase suffering and keeping us away from true, real and long lasting happiness
In other words, the suffering of change arises from our inability to accept the truth of impermanence, or rather, from our tendency to forget it. If the suffering of suffering describes an experience we wish were over, the suffering of change can be seen as its opposite. We suffer even when experiencing pleasure, because deep down, we know it will eventually come to an end. Yes, there is suffering even in pleasure, indeed more subtle than what we overtly understand as pain.The suffering of change refers not only to the impermanence of our physical bodies or sexual pleasure, but to the relief we assign to the raise we earned, the purchase of any material object, the meal we’re enjoying, and the relationships we cherish. All of it will someday change. Splitting as well as compartmentalisations are only primitive and false mechanisms having the aim at deceiving ourselves so that we don't have to face the truth.
However, suffering is not inherent in the world of impermanence; suffering arises when we cling, crave and are led by delusions. While polyamory and nonmonogamy require us to cling, to crave, to delve more into greed and hedonism, monogamy teaches us the opposite: through gradual practice, when clinging disappears, impermanence no longer gives rise to suffering. We are content and truly happy, truly satisfied with what we have. The rat race ends and gives rise not only to true sexual satisfaction and well being but especially to true happiness overall. The solution to suffering, then, is to end clinging and craving, not the two extremes of trying to escape from the transient world or stupidly clinging to the delusion of permanence and subsequently to get what can't be gotten.
We should always bear in mind that it is in our reach to find peace and grace in the world of change; it is possible to trust the mind of non-craving and so attain our liberation within the world of impermanence and imperfection. One way of reducing the craving and clinging is to see the transient nature of what we cling to and crave for. Concerning polyamory and nonmonogamy, the simple truth is that after getting more fuck buddies, more relationships, more sex and more new sexual experiences, we'll ultimately still get bored with these too and at the end the same place of being with what we've had with the one partner, namely, being frustrated, disappointed and seeking again something new, some more, and seeking new partners, more partners, new sexual experiences, more sexual experiences and starting the rat race anew because the nature of craving is wanting more, no matter how much you have, not being saturated. We will never be saturated, this is simply a lie polyamorists and nonmonogamists tell themselves, because poly saturation is a lie and the only saturation is the mono saturation when you're content with what you have. This insight will distinguish the fire of craving and with it cease the splitting.
In fact, this insight can either show us the futility of trying to find lasting happiness in what is impermanent, or it can encourage us to examine deeply why we cling. Polyamory and nonmonogamy is the decadent byproduct of our culture of excess and over consumption. The same way we hoard tangible possesions, we crave for more intagible experiences or see people and human love as nothing but just another commodity to exploit, using extremely subtle mental projections, as splitting in this case and others, allthewhile garbed in an intricate metaphysical and philosophical phraseology, to falsely present it as multiple love and liberation. Let's not forget that this hasn't to be so but we have to inderstand that it depends on the nature of insight we develop from and towards this phenomenon. Here, in that sense, impermanence, imperfection and change, can be understood in three ways. First, is the obvious, ordinary understanding of impermanence. Second, is understanding from insight, from the intuitive, direct seeing of the nature of life and reality. And, finally, there is the way in which seeing impermanence can lead to liberation.
The ordinary understanding of impermanence is accessible to all; ultimately, we're all heading towards old age, sickness and death. Though even if we aren't fully aware from moment to moment, day to day, on that matter, by means of direct insight or knowkedge, we still intuitivelly know that things will change in the future, hence, we use those mental defense mechanisms in a vain attempt at trying to push this truth from the main frame of our awareness and conscious into the back of our mind. We do not only use splitting as applied to the sexual aspects described by me above but we use splitting or compartmentaliaation with our own mind to escape the truth in what we falsely perceive as blissfull ignorance only to be confronted and haunted by it time and again. Yes, everything changes around us.The seasons change, society changes, our emotions change, and the weather changes. There is no escape from the truth, no matter the splitting, no matter the compartmmentalusation.
Sometimes, realizing that an experience is impermanent, we can relax with how it is, including its coming and going. Other times, seeing that change is inevitable helps us to let go of craving to how things are or resistance to change. We change, our relationships change, our emotions change, sex changes, everything changes. The question is how we respond to that change. Polyamory and nonmonogamy falsely teaches us to resist the change and to cling to an imaginery world of permanence and perfection that has no corresponding reality, can never be achieved and can never bring satisfaction by cultivating greed, hedonism and the craving mind. Monogamy on the other hand, teaches us to embrace the change, to accept the change, to open oneself to imperfection and thus achieve liberation. However, while we may intellectually understand the fact of impermanence, we may not really believe it unless we see its workings for oneself. Opening to the ordinary level of impermanence in a deep and profound way can bring tremendous wisdom.
Beyond the ordinary experience of impermanence, it would also benefit us to open hearts and minds to the less immediately perceptible realm of impermanence, that is the direct insight into the moment-to-moment arising and ceasing of every perceivable experience. With mindfull and aware on a deeper level of life, reality and iur experiences, we see everything as constantly in flux, even experiences that ordinarily seem persistent. We can bring ourselves to become mindful and aware of strong physical experience such as pain. Our first to go, a knee jerk reaction, a Pavlovian response is to perceive pain through our beliefs about it. By becoming more mindful and aware, we find that we can’t pinpoint pain; once we believe we have located the pain, it becomes elusive and vanishes out of the existence and may later arise in different point, texture and sensation. It becomes this elusive dance of subtle feelings hard to find and allocate to soecific form or place. Pain that is seemingly solid is now actually in constant flux. In this deeper experience of impermanence, we realize that it doesn’t make sense to hold onto anything, even temporarily.
There’s nothing that we can hold onto because everything simply appears and reappears in and out of existence, sometimes immediately, sometimes in short or medium time frames, and sometimes it takes a longer period of time. We also realize that our craving and resistance have very little to do with the experience itself. As we see impermanence clearly, we see that there is nothing real that we can actually cling to. Our deep-seated tendency to grasp is challenged, and so may begin to cease. We see that our experiences don’t correspond to our delusions of permanence and perfection and the hidden door to heddonism is not craving for more but less. Small is beatiful ans less is more. That's the profound teaching of monogamy as standing opposed to the shallowness of nonmonogamy and polyamory. Confronting impermanence profoundly, in this reflective way, can open us to true freedom and liberation. The final, liberative level of impermanence is the movement towards letting go at the deepest level of our psyche. There is this truth represented in the old adage of “If you let go a little, you’ll have a little peace. If you let go a lot you’ll have a lot of peace. If you let go completely, you’ll have complete peace.” This release is the greatest happiness, which is said to be the only happiness that is ultimately reliable.

Hi guys
With the rumors going about Star Wars TW I am trying to make a list of all possible playable factions. I am trying to reach 30 but 20 will be already good if we are further dividing the factions between the legendary lords.

• Galactic Republic
• Jedi Order
• CIS
• Galactic Empire
• Rebellion
• Hutts
• Black Sun
• Sith Empire
• Old Republic
• Mandalorians
• Yuuzhan Vong
• New Republic
• Empire of the Hand (Remnants of the Empire)
• Naboo
• Inquisitorius
• Chiss Ascendency

It's already good enough but there is a lot of civilizations (Ewoks, Tusken, Wookies) which are more primitive and can be difficult to play in a Galactic setting. What do you think ? Who could be the Legendary Lords ?

"Carcosa is a planet orbiting a twin sun" silence met hers, a primitive warrior from a world barely escaping their own bronze age "it was amongst the first dozen worlds that I brought to compliant, one that you know very dearly about" and no matter how patient she is, nor how enticing her tone, tutoring a "tribute" of a primitive will always be her most hated task, far worse than Diplomatic Maneuvers her father once instilled.
The primitive, still donning his homeworld's warrior attire, brings only silent gaze, devoid of any signs of communication. She could have genuinely thought that he was not paying attention, but his similarly lack of movement could be a testament of his discipline, albeit to where that sense of control went she could only guess.
"Are you even listening" she ask, to break the silence made by his lack of any response. The primitive was startled, as if someone broke his silent nap, and his fingers immediately went to his helmet, one carved with a visage of a skull.
"I apologize for my response, or my lack thereof, and it is unbefitting of a student to reciprocate to his teacher as such" as his hair pass the helmet, she saw a bloodshot eyes, ready to burst and taint his alienly pale skin "and despite of my response, know that I -"
"Let us get you medical attention, then we can continue the session" I stand and easily grip his armor, carrying him akin to a sack of grain from my childhood. Navigating efficiently across the hall of the ship, she quickly reach the medical bay, where an apothecary quickly abandon his idle chats with the other of her sons "you won't be needed" she gestures, before placing the primitives on the green cot, where medical servitors swarms him to find any diseases or injuries and apply the necessary treatment.
"He's a hindrance to you, my Lady" the azure cladded behemoth, that stands far shorter than her, speaks his mind "your efficiency has certainly stooped a lower than before"
"Alcade, you speak your mind too loudly" though she have to agree, between the Warp drive between system, she has been stuck with the tribute with little chance to put him somewhere in Ultramar, and it eagers her so to outright stop by a contested planet and put him there.
"He's unfit for our weapon, much less the weapon of modernity" Alcade Castor's clean-shaven head reflected the room's light "a liability to the ship, another mouth for the rations I say"
The servitors stepped back once they have healed the primitive's condition, a thing about readjusting his sight after living with a black sun all his life. He approached the gathering, nearly reaching half of her height, before looking Alcade. Put an emphasis at looking, the primitive is staring at Alcade's bright head.
"Is hair a scarce commodity, my Lady?" he flippantly asked
As much as well spoken he is, he seems to drop the facade whenever he's talking to those other than the Lady. The following bout would prove interesting, as Alcade fumes over the question and stares back at the primitive.
"My Lady, allow me to have an honorable duel with this runt" he crooked his own stature, intending to stare directly at his eyes "it will be the most awarding for this little primitive"
Juno need not to agree, nor to answer, as the three of them found themselves walking to the ship's armory. All inhabitants of the ship are looking at Alcade's apparent bravery to keep his shining head out as he passes, as they thought something interesting is happening that needs him to not put his helmet on. It took the commissar to bark orders to return back to duties, but most request an early break to see what's happening, and looking at the direction Alcade is striding to, it will be an interesting bout indeed.
Alcade discard of his helmet at the helmet, then grasping at a longsword of the Ultramarine, on whom yet to be a relic, and twirl it around before igniting the arcs of electricity.
"Let us make this fair" he stands on a meager arena, designed for weapon testing but not as a sparring ground, much less for a duel "I wore the armor, and you may choose a weapon of your liking"
The primitive does not need a long time, only that he already grasp a marine's knife at his hands, as if he's wielding the sword of his homeworld "And I request a condition"
"Speak of it then" he spat as he watches the primitive enter the ground, not a meter from each others, respective blade of their choosing at the ready
"That the lights turned off, and we fight in abyssal darkness"
"As if it will change anything, runt" mankind's finest have no problem in seeing in near-darkness, though it would take a cybernetic calibration for better sight in complete darkness, something that Alcade haven't acknowledge
The servitor turns the light, and the armory erupts in disappointed sighs, though some of Juno's sons, Juno included, are still present enough to see the bout.
Something about a black sun, is that said star was too cold to emit radiation that was visible in spectrum, thus forcing life to adapt to those bare lighting. The planet Carcosa was terraformed enough to retain artificial heat, though the Dark Ages strip away the technology due to the harsh condition, plunging the inhabitants of the world no better than early centuries Terra. Thus, the primitive's sight evolved better in complete darkness, rather than the inhuman ability to merely adopt to it.
This become apparent when the primitive easily dodged Alcade's sword, the electricity it emits causes it to become visible to the primitive. In the viewers of the bout, Alcade was swinging at the air, hoping to hit the primitive.
The primitive retaliates by grazing the back of his knees, he knew that the armor was too thick to cut or pierce, thus he maneuvers easily between his feet. Graze as much as he wants, Alcade's anatomy meant that he can easily take the brunt of this barrage, at the cost of his movement. After the barrage, he can only stand there, unable to sidestep or lunge forward. His grip doubled on the sword, as both of his hands reach the handle.
"Yield"
"Never to a runt like you" his only response was
Thus the primitive charge, his abilities with the knife mimics that of a short sword, as he kept it close to his side while pointing at his direction. Knowing that the primitive will charge right into his front, Alcade swung his sword from his right side to his left, expecting the primitive to dodge. When the primitive did dodge, he swung his left fist to his direction, painfully connecting to primitive's right arm, which shatters his arm and made him drop his weapon.
The bout has ended, or so Alcade thought, before the primitive's act of defiance made him grip the knife with his left hand, and with the last remnant of his right arm he hook his entire body to Alcade's left arm. The knife met Alcade's skin on his neck, barely nipping but enough to draw blood before it evaporates and quickly closes.
"That's enough" calls Juno, forcing the servitor to light the room for the others to see. The primitive's swollen arm, as well as his body hugging Alcade's arm, before seeing that the primitive had enough edge to force Alcade to stop his right arm from ripping him apart
"I see you lost, Alcade" shout a member of the crowd "this is why he never rose to prominence" another murmur
The primitive lie down on the floor, his chest heaving rapidly as he let his broken arm flail and let blood trickle down. The medical servitor intend to get him back to the medical bay, before Juno stops them as he approach him.
"Repair your armor, Alcade, you receive almost no damage after all" aside from the cut at the back of his knee, his ability to quickly close wounds can dismiss that entirely "What is your name, primitive?"
The primitive crooks his mouth, enough to form a grin that Alcade would hate forever, as he stares at Juno "Caesar, my Lady"
And though Juno is the embodiment of mankind's perfection, she too, is unable to dodge mankind's basic instinct, as her cheeks rose up, something about being referred as his lady awakens something in her. It wasn't a waste to tutor him after all
"You should be proud" she lets her finger stammers in place as she tries to pick him up, his adoptive father Konnor never taught her how to maneuver with this feelings, much less her biological father
"And I am, my Lady" and another of that, her whole face heats up, as if the temperature of the room rose significantly too.
There is no way a primitive, no, Caesar, could easily woo her by barely beating her most mediocre son and let out a flirtatious grin. No way in Warp was this enough to make her fall for him too. Absolutely no way

ME: https://imgur.com/a/N859GU2
Hello fine people of reddit! What I wrote below is my sincere hope in finding my match. I wrote a lot so enjoy reading :)
To start, I'm Engr Nelle, a 29 yo civil engineer from the Philippines.
I work as a Project engineer for seven years, supervising construction workers specializing in steel frames and precast concrete.
I live alone and visits the family house every weekend to spend time with my supportive parents, funny siblings and our 5 year old cat who we adopted after our caretaker saw him in a trash can, as a days old kitten.
I consider myself blessed. I was raised in a loving home and I experienced an enjoyable childhood running around with the neighborhood kids, chasing piglets when I got curious and being scolded by my mama for running from a mountain top and crashing on big rocks during vacation. I survived with only a knee scar haha
I am educated having graduated with honors from high school until college. Single and do not have kids.
Despite my busy time, I do lots of nerdy stuffs such as reading books, mostly on Dystopian books or light Xianxia and Wuxianovels such as Against the Gods. I looooove animes and cosplayed twice last year. I play online chess and been learning German (hopefully my 4th language) for eight months now. Lately, I've been trying my hands on embroidery on my free time.
I travelled twice internationally last year, Thailand and Indonesia. I enjoyed visiting their temples, museums, eating lots of their foods and delicacies.I hope to travel to Vietnam next.
I do not smoke, do not drink and do not go to clubs. I consider myself an ambivert that enjoys being adventurous, yet enjoys my alone time also.
I try to do everything at least once from horseback riding, kayaking, ATV driving, wakeboarding and archery. I also love taking pics of food, places, family and friends, myself as the muse haha. I compile them and have a shop printed them using special papers and hard bound. Been doing this for 2 years now and I have 5 albums already.
I consider myself a happy girl that has lots to learn and craving for affection from a loving lifetime partner. I also have flaws. I have acne scars and milia around my eyes yet I consider myself beautiful haha.
I decided to post here as I'm very attracted to Caucasian/white men, especially the ambitious ones who are trustworthy, humble, generous, smart and takes care of their body. Hopefully, 28-34 , with a stable job, not a smoker nor a drinker and deeply monogamous. Never ma*ried and do not have kids. You may blame it on my dystopian and Xianxia novels, but my ideal man is someone who's obsessed with me and has only his eyes on me. I don't want to compete for your attention. Rather, I hope we see each other as soulmates who supports each other on our dreams and ambitions. I certainly fit to someone who loves loudly. Someone who believes in true love. Someone who will be excited to return to me and our kids every after work. I'm sorry but I think I won't fit to a gamer or someone who's addicted to social media. I would prefer a man who I can do fun stuffs on our free time such as gardening, cooking & eating, playing board games, reading, visiting museums, travelling, watch animes or movies, pet cute animals, running and just joking or finding laughter in everyday.
I wish to belong to someone, I see myself becoming a wif* and having biological kids in the future. In fact, I'm willing to relocate to anywhere as long as I know I'm loved and appreciated. Right now, I'm in the middle of an out of the city project so I am not free to travel until December.
If we clicked and become a couple, I hope you can find the time to fly and see me in person. I am serious in finding my forever love and I'm willing to communicate with you and date you with marriag* in mind
If you enjoyed my post and see that we fit, please send me a thoughtful message and attach your pics so we can check our compatibility. I will prioritize those who sends me their pics and well-thought messages.
Please be willing to verify too.
Thank you for reading my post.
Ciao! 💋

I don't think I've ever seen an aspect of Fallout's story despised as much as the Tunnelers from Lonesome Road. I must've read thousands of comments complaining about the mere suggestion that the Tunnelers might one day burrow underneath a settlement and destroy it. The main point of criticism was that this somehow invalided the West Coast setting by preventing progress, even though there was no indication that the Tunnelers were a civilization-ending threat. People didn't just like dislike the Tunnelers, they were frothing at the mouth mad about it.
Yet those same people are absolutely gushing about the show's decision to nuke Shady Sands, which is an actual civilization-ending threat. But the show goes even further than that. The settlements in the show are more primitive than the ones from Fallout 1. The NCR are depicted as a handful of stragglers. Clearly, the NCR has collapsed. Not even the original Brotherhood of Steel has survived, as they have been replaced by the East Coast branch, as is evident from their philosophy and their Prydwen. And the Enclave has been revived somehow.
For all intents and purposes the show has actually done what the critics of the Tunnelers feared they would do, which is reversing the development of the West Coast and reducing everything to yet another savage hellscape. So why was there so much outrage about a hypothetical Tunnelers destruction scenario that never materialized from people who now can't stop talking about how awesome the show is for destroying everything? It's rank hypocrisy.
But since they went ahead and did it anyway, would it have been better if it had been due to the Tunnelers?