The Panidac 350W Pure Sine Wave Car Inverter is a great option for anyone who needs to power electronics on the go. This inverter converts 12V DC power from your car's battery to 110V AC power, which is the same type of power that comes out of wall outlets at home. This means you can use it to charge your laptop, phone, or other devices while you're traveling.
One of the key features of the Panidac 350W Pure Sine Wave Car Inverter is that it produces a "pure sine wave" output. This is important because some electronic devices, especially sensitive ones, can be damaged by irregular power supplies. The pure sine wave output from this inverter ensures that your devices will receive clean, consistent power.
Another great feature of this inverter is that it has built-in USB ports. This means you can charge your phone, tablet, or other USB-powered devices without having to turn on the inverter and drain your car battery. The inverter also has a long, durable cable that plugs into your car's cigarette lighter port.
Overall, the Panidac 350W Pure Sine Wave Car Inverter is a versatile and user-friendly option for anyone who needs to power their electronics on the road. With its pure sine wave output, USB ports, and long cable, it's a great choice for travelers, campers, and anyone who wants to stay connected while they're away from home.
https://inverterreview.com/panidac-350w-pure-sine-wave-car-inverter-review/

personally from where i live (im from somewhere in Southeast Asia) in the early 2010s (2010 - 2014), not many people could afford Smartphones (Apple, Samsung, etc etc) & some still stayed using cellphones like Nokia (My dad used his Blackberry until around 2012 with his new iPhone 4), people drove a mix of cars from the 90s & 2000s, reruns of 00s cartoons you could recognize on TV, some computer shops & schools still used Windows XP until around 2015 while Windows 7 is dominating, some people still used digital cameras, iPods are still somewhat a thing?, Netflix haven't made it to my country & we still used Cable TV & DVDs, some still use CRT TVs while almost everyone start to have Plasma TVs, elements & leftovers of Frutiger Aero still remain, radio sometimes play music from the mid - late 00s, 7th gen of gaming consoles are still popular, Some places that haven't been renovated since like 2008 but later did in the mid 2010s, some homes still use cordless landline phones, Domo kun was still everywhere, Rage comics were still the norm & MLG rising, Swag culture (although its more early 2010s itself but its sometimes associated with "Jejemon" from where im from), Electropop is still popular & EDM is on the rise, etc.
I guess i could say its somewhat? an extension of the late 2000s but with the rise of smartphones. I would say all of that remaining elements went down from 10 - 0% from around mid 2015 ish, but thats just probably me.

hey everyone, i’m looking for my first pair of iem’s. i’ve gotten my hands on some good lossless files for some of my favorite artists, and i wanted to use iems to hear everything from my ipod and iphone.
i’m pretty sure i like the balanced sound signature as according to the internet, it brings out details you’ve never heard. i typically listen to artist like lana del rey, ethel cain, tyler the creator, and cigarettes after sex if that helps.
if you have questions let me know! thanks for the advice

https://youtu.be/mPF9f-PLDPc?si=eOfGSvsz0_gxQ0qA
I came across this video talking about this somehow legal product called, O.MG Cables, seemingly innocent looking USB charging cables that can be used to hack into people’s mobile devices, whether it’s an iPhone or Android.
These things have been around for a few years now, and from what I can see, Apple has literally made no word about these things. The only people who have acknowledged their presence are news outlets and YouTube channels. Thankfully there is a way to tell a difference between them according to this article from iFixIt:
https://www.ifixit.com/Guide/How+to+spot+the+difference+between+the+O.MG+Cable+and+a+standard+USB-A+Cable/155496
Even then, the company that makes these fake cables, yes, an actual company makes these, have made different versions, and I don’t know if they all have the same differences or whether they’ve changed them to make them look even more like the real USB cables. Either way, I’m having a hard time trusting USB cables now because of this discovery and now have a fear someone may one day swap out my real USB cable, or maybe even my charging block or car charger with a fake one (if either one of the two latter even exist) when I’m not looking.

Hi Everyone,
I'd like to preface by saying I know next to nothing about electronics. Which is why I am here!
I purchased an AC2A earlier this year to power some small electronics for camping (lights + speaker)
I am planning a road trip for which I will be camping along the way and anticipate needing to recharge the unit between sites.
The solution I came up with was to purchase an inverter that would be plugged into my cigarette lighter to charge the unit while driving.
That being said I do not know what I really need. I was about to purchase a 75W inverter at a nearby store but to be safe I figured I'd ask here first.
My car says it is rated for 120W/Max total power when using all outlets, the individual outlets saying they are rated for 12V/120W.
My assumption up til now is that I will not be able to use my 67W car charger for our personal devices in conjunction with the 75W inverter due to the specification meaning I will need to use them separately, which I am fine with.
My main question/issue is if it will be safe to charge the unit from a 75W inverter without damaging my car's electrical systems or the unit itself?
Any input or recommendations would be greatly appreciated!

Alien-Nation Chapter 203: Mission Accomplished

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Chapter Summary:

Amilita and Morsh square off in the hallway. Elias gets comforted by Natalie

No Visitors

The bodyguard slammed the door to the room shut in the stunned nurse's face, and heard heavyset footsteps approaching fast. "Amilita," she greeted the officer, already knowing who it was before she'd even turned to look.
"Is he awake?" She asked as a greeting, pulling up just short.
"He is," Morsh said shortly.
"I need to see him."
The bodyguard just raised an eyebrow. "What, now? You're kidding me, right?"
Amilita looked pained, before finally confessing. "I need to tell him I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you can wait."
Amilita shuffled from foot to foot uneasily, like a mountain trembling from an earthquake deep underneath. There was a lot of pent up emotion threatening to come spilling down from the top. "I let him down."
"You can say that all you want to him when he's calmed down in there." If that was meant to defuse Amilita, it failed, for the Giantess's shuffling only grew quicker and on an uneven keel. "General, you're acting far too agitated."
"I am agitated," she confessed, though without backing off even an inch.
"You're in a Marine Officer's uniform. What was the last person he saw in one of those doing to him? Do you want him to associate you with that?" Morsh finally let the old family friend have a clue as to why she wouldn't be seeing Elias, beyond Nataliska's quite clear orders.
"No, I-" Amilita came up short, her shuffling thrown off as she was rocked by the realization, breaking whatever the officer had quietly been building herself up to saying.
"I get it. You want him to associate the uniform with you as opposed to Goshen, before the memory sets into scar tissue. That's it, isn't it?"
She managed a quiet 'yes.'
"Then wait for him to calm down." Noticing that Amilita seemed to get agitated at the confirmation that Elias was not calm, Morsh decided she may have misunderstood just how much Amilita cared. "Boys can panic. You have to ease them back into being normal, just like how you don't just dump veterans back into civilian life, right? They're doing peace and wind-down rotations on Mars and Venus, I hear." There, that would be familiar ground, and sure enough Amilita nodded thoughtfully.
"Titan, Luna, and Europa, too," the officer confirmed. "It's for them to unwind, slowly forget whatever they went through on Earth, and start receiving good news from Earth. It makes them feel like..."
"Like their service mattered, that it wasn't just a waste of time watching the planet slowly turn red, I get it," Morsh finished for her. "Ya probably feed them the same news that goes out-system, helps the stories line up with the official narrative. They feel like things must have started going better once they rotated out, and then you slip in that they helped turn the tide, give them a medal, and ship them off somewhere else, with a reminder that what happens on Earth is all 'classified', except the good parts. Bet I've got that right, too, huh?"
Amilita must have lost a lot of money on the games soldiers played when phasing between systems. "I haven't really been involved with it or the decision-making on rotating troops out of the system, so I can't really comment."
"Alright, I'm not pressing. I gotta ask, though: Is what's going on in there with him and Nataliska really making you more nervous than everything else going on in your state? With all the Governesses and the generals-"
"They each govern a few million, and each has their own responsibilities that they can leave me out of. Anything to do with me has already been seen to by my office and orders. At this point I've done all I can, except let them yell at me again for something that I never ordered. So yes, frankly, Elias is more important. Even leaving aside my own feelings, we need him. So please, Morsh, I need you to step aside."
Morsh had been nodding along before that last part. She drew in a breath and finally squared off to face Amilita head-on and stared her in the eyes.* So it is going to be like this, is it?*
"Yeah, I'm not letting you near him."
"What?" Amilita seemed to finally have an outlet for all her pent up frustration and anger. As much as Morsh felt she could handle herself, getting into a fist fight with an Officer and an old family friend in a hospital hallway wasn't exactly smart, even if it would probably help both of them feel better afterward.
"The boy's been a pawn for a long time, Amilita, and let me tell you from experience, he doesn't like it. Tends to lash out when cornered," she tapped her forearm, where he'd surprised her with the knife. "Seriously. He didn't take it well when he found out about himself on the datanet, either. Pretty sure he and Nataliska had a little falling out over that, you know. Young love, ups and downs," she chuckled. "She came back after dropping him off and barely came out of her room, whatever he said musta been pretty harsh. He got over it, but I'm pretty sure he blames us for it."
"He should. And you have him in there, with the person he blames for making him a public figure, after you just mentioned he hates it? You have him cornered, and say that leads to bad things? Aren't you the girl's bodyguard?"
Morsh knew better than to take the bait and mention how he was in no shape to fight. Amilita would then claim to be a concerned mother-figure and charge in.
"What, like you didn't play a part in making him famous?" Morsh poked a finger right into Amilita's chest. "I hear he asked you to make sure there was no media at the award ceremony. Instead, there're pictures everywhere of us leaving, practically carrying a sick Nataliska to the car at the event that's supposed to help introduce her to the galaxy. Nive's pretty upset about that. Now, if there's any more shouting, I'll pull Nataliska out of there myself and then you can try explaining what happened."
"Thank you." Her voice carried anything but gratitude, and Amilita seemed ready to press her case the moment any noise went off, and it all rubbed Morsh the wrong way.
"Yeah, you'll get to go on about how everything that happened to him doesn't mean anything or reflect on you, and how you're totally blameless about what your subordinate did. Maybe even promise to find some way to make it all up to him. I dunno, what's above a Service Moon Medal?"
Her words seemed to finally set something off in the Officer, and she stepped up into Morsh's face, who didn't even flinch. "I did what I did out of both a sense of caring and duty!" She snarled. "Your family pushed for a punishment for that private when the boy was hurt, and then Nataliska used that favor he owed for her petition to get him to sell perfumes with her. I only followed through because you were right- one of our own had stepped out of line. When your daughter got rescued by him later, I repaid that favor to you by elevating the award." She finally took a half-step back, as if she realized the words that slipped past her tusks before starting again, this time a bit calmer. "If you say I'm just using him, I want you to bear in mind that while I have been put in a very difficult position and have done my best to do the right thing, your family has only used him to advance yourselves." She finally seemed to finish venting her anger, before turning to frustration. "Do you know how hard it has been to respect his wishes for privacy against needing to provide him security?"
Morsh stared, unimpressed. She'd faced knives that arced closer to her face than Amilita was now pressing hers.
"What's your point?"
"That we both have to accept some blame for Elias's status."
"Fair point," Morsh granted the old family friend a little slack and decided not to rub it in Amilita's face that she'd just made her original point for her. Amilita was definitely being run too ragged. "I'm still not letting you in there, especially with that uniform on. Not until Nataliska and him both say it's okay. I know you wanna charge in there and tell him you had nothing to do with what happened to him. Maybe your heart's even in the right place. But I know she's the one he wants to see right now. Maybe it's a bit storybook-ish, but all her work that went into finding the boy and saving his life oughta count for something in gratitude and him being happy to see her." There weren't any screams or things being smashed against the wall or door, so Morsh figured things between the two had to be going at least somewhat well.
"I went in there and beat his kidnapper senseless! If I'd been even a minute later..." her words sounded tough, but the true fight had already gone out of Amilita. Now she was just being stubborn.
"Something I'm sure she'll explain," Morsh waved a hand. "He wasn't awake for any of that, though, and I've still got my orders to guard this door, and not let anyone through. Clear?"
The giant woman instead changed her angle of approach. "Will the two of them be okay in there?" She was the picture of motherly concern over a son's virtue when left in a room with a girl, and it was enough to make Morsh forget her forbidden desire for a cigarette.
"Oh for Empress's sake, I'm not gonna stand here and touch-tits with you and spend time arguing over whether mine are bigger and which of us cares more about a boy. That's some real schoolgirl stuff. You're angry that this happened, and I get that. You want to protect him, especially now that his luck ran out. That's good and all, but you have a lot of important things you're neglecting by even being here."
"What?" Amilita seemed unsure, and Morsh felt a sudden, almost nostalgic exasperation she thought she'd left behind. Stubborn officers sometimes had to be dragged to see what was right in front of her.
"Look, it's been a while since my time serving on the front, and even longer since I helped put down an insurrection, but a leader disappearing after she's ordered everyone on both sides to lay down arms for a ceasefire tends to get the enemy's backs up. They start expecting a double-cross. So go on back out there, and be seen doing your part. We'll do ours here. You want to show you really care? Make sure he has a home worth going back to, one that hasn't burned itself down thinking you're plotting some way to kick off another mass-arrest of suspects."
Amilita started to say something else before deciding better of it, and finally straightened. "You'll tell him, right? That I was there. That I helped. And that I- that I'm sorry."
Morsh gave a slight, sympathetic smile. "Yeah. Look, the Raktens are sorry, you're sorry. Everyone's sorry, except me, and yet you were ready to pick a fight with me. You know what I think? I think the part he'll need to hear is that when it mattered, you dropped everything and came running. And I'll make sure he gets that."
Amilita let go at last of whatever kept her here, and deflated.
"Thank you."
"We can talk about everything later."
"Let me know if he decides to take some visitors before I finish wrapping up the things I started doing here?"
"Of course," Morsh smiled, and then watched Amilita turn on her heel and march back down the hall.
Morsh flexed her hand, and imagined with regret what Amilita's next words to her would probably be, and what she'd almost certainly be asked to do between then and now.

Mission Accomplished

"Hey, hey..." Natalie was speaking as if to a frightened, wounded animal, which he might as well have been. Humans supposedly awoke in a rather confused stupor. Certainly, he had when he'd fallen asleep in her room in what now felt like years ago. "Elias?"
"Natalie?" He asked again, voice raw. "Is that you? Is this real?"
Natalie hesitated. She should project a calm confidence, right? Not ask exactly what he meant. "Yes, I'm real."
His eyes narrowed, as if she'd failed some sort of test, and his whole body tensed, and then shivered and quaked. "Prove it." He sounded frightened. Cornered.
She reached down to her bag, and slowly opened it, revealing the bloody shirt- and then held a finger to her lips., a human gesture for a secret, then added a wink for good measure, then stuffing it back down into the bag with one hand, making a show of crossing her fingers with the other. Some of the nuance might have been lost, but he seemed to understand the meaning of her gestures just the same, even as his stare went a little unfocused. "That could be a few things. My imagination playing tricks on me. Them using the machine to...I don't know, scrape away at my mind, so it fills in what I want to see, what I want to hear."
"If you could imagine anywhere in the galaxy, why would you want to see here?" She broke eye contact, and then looked up at the blue light tube and plastic flooring. "It's pretty...uh..." 'primitive' or 'inhospitable' didn't do it justice, and she wondered how a word 'hospitable' shared anything with this place. She wondered how 'hospitable' came from hospitals, if these places were so unwelcoming to guests. The ill-fitted clothing he was dressed in was like wax paper, the bedsheet equally thin, and the staff were decidedly rude, even to noblewomen.
"Perhaps, I am being shown here because I expect to be here."
"You think you're imagining everything? Would you expect to see me here, too?" It had been the longest they'd gone without seeing each other all year.
He shook his head slowly, then closed his eyes, bracing himself as if for some invisible blow. His jaw was set and he spoke without looking at her. "I don't know? Maybe wishful thinking. Or someone's given me someone pleasant I'll talk to and confess everything to." He shivered and shook. "And if you are real, you'd know things. And if you're some sort of mirage, a stand in for some horror invading my mind, then you probably also know or at least I'd hear you say the things I'd expect to hear, so-"
"We don't have to talk about anything right now," she had to keep him from being swallowed by his own paranoia.
Elias didn't quite answer her, instead giving a silent, slow nod almost as if resigned to whatever fate she had in mind for him, though she didn't miss the way his gaze flitted over her shoulder and to the door again. Can't take my eyes off you for even a moment, can I?
The two rose together and she patted on the top of the thin mattress for him to sit. He slowly set his hips against its edge, hands down as if ready to push off from it and take his odds trying to run.
"Assuming you're really here, now what?" His voice shook before he swallowed before wincing, as if the action was painful. He still tried to put on a brave face.
"Uh, well, I guess...I don't know?"
"Why are you here?" For a moment he seemed almost as if he wanted to say more, but for once he held his tongue, though she could tell it strained him.
His tone was so far from the at-least-initial gratitude she had subconsciously hyped herself up to expect that she was taken completely aback.
Because I love you, you idiot sprang to mind. Instead of saying that though, she blinked and reconsidered if she'd done something wrong.
Of course, Elias couldn't know about all the things she'd done to find him, though he'd be furious if he did. She'd gone into his room alone, dug around his most prized things, and worst of all tracked his omni-pad after swearing to him she never would. All self-justifications aside about how it wasn't hard to imagine what would have happened to him if she hadn't done all that, he had no way of knowing those things. Then what is with his hostile tone?
There was no joy, just a wariness. Then again, I suppose the last I saw him, I ran away. She'd forgotten that, somehow, he might not expect their next meeting to be anything but with him in custody.
"It's okay," she tried. "Everything's going to be fine." There. That had to be a little reassuring, at least, and true. She could protect him now that they were together again.
Slowly, she turned and tried to embrace him. He tensed up when she reached out, and her hands worked their way around his head, pulling him closer. He seemed like he was on the verge of pushing her off of him until he came to rest on her shoulder. At last, he accepted as neglected fingernails explored and worked their way through his dirt-flecked hair. The response was sudden and a little sad, when he started letting out little breaths that hitched and then took a shaky breath back in. Slowly, he relaxed and settled more weight onto the edge of the bed, and leaned in just a bit more into her.
There weren't words for the validation that the young noblewoman hadn't made some grand mistake, and been played for a fool by an alien mastermind's impossibly manipulative and scheming plot.
Natalie couldn't tell how long it took before his breathing finally started coming easier, but when it at last did she pulled back and tried to get some measure of how awake and alert her alien boyfriend was. She noted first just how tired he looked. Still, from under those ringed eyes, wary green eyes searched hers back. If you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you, she'd heard him say once. Whatever Elias saw in hers, he didn't even try to object when she lowered her hand to his shoulder and gently urged him to lie on the semi-reclined bed.
From where she stood over him, he looked so small. The bed was *much *broader than he was, like it was built for a shil'vati. He seemed so small and vulnerable, with his slender frame, damaged with bruises, scrapes, and bits of smudged-in mud half-hidden by the paper-thin outfit he wore. He was the picture of helplessness, set against an enormous plain-white and sterile canvas without so much as a bed sheet or blanket to hide under.
"Natalie?" He finally broke the silence, voice a vulnerable tremor. "It's really you, right?"
"Of course it is," she cooed. "There, I've got you." He seemed to tense up, until she added: "No one's going to hurt you. Morsh is guarding the door, so let's just take a minute. The rest of the world can wait."
Something seemed to get through to him that he wasn't going to be pressed for information or interrogated further, and at last he seemed to relax a bit, though not completely. "No listening devices?"
"None," Natalie promised. "Amilita didn't even finish setting up her own little temporary office by the time we showed up. We were right behind the ambulance."
With her free hand she rearranged his hair back to the lazy, windswept look he usually wore after hopping off his bicycle and then backed off. He didn't look okay, though, not at all. He just looked distressed, lost, and tired. 
Right then, he needed her to be calm and unflustered, and so she resolved she would be.
"Shhh," she tried, before wondering if this counted as 'silencing a victim.' Too late to take the sentiment back, though. She stretched to reach down to the floor, pulling the bedsheet up onto the bed and over his shins. "It's alright," she reassured herself as much as him, ignoring the way her heart pounded in her chest. "You don't have to talk or say anything right now," she reassured him. "Just focus on getting better, okay?" She could do her part on focusing on his health by not relishing the warmth under her fingertips when he shuffled around slightly from where she was touching. What a strange temptation- a shoulder was hardly anything to be excited about. It wasn't a chest, or a thigh, or the taper of a man's narrow hips, and yet...she forced her mind back to the business of caring for him. "There," she tried. "Is this okay?"
He just nodded and yawned so wide it stretched his odd pink lips, but he clearly wasn't quite ready to 'throw in the towel' on staying awake just yet, not even as the circles under his eyes deepened. Instead he laboriously managed to push himself up just slightly. "What did they do to me?" He finally asked, and Natalie forced herself to not make any kind of motion to put him back to where he'd just been so nicely settled just a moment ago. Besides, she had to answer him, as it certainly seemed important.
"Nothing bad, I promise. Amilita's given me the only medical record they have of your visit here. So far, they assessed you with a...well, it's a 'doc bot' like the Nurse at Talay had, and when Amilita had you healed up like, a year ago when you got hit by that private. Uh..." she tried to remember the details. "Oh, there were some fancy words for bruising and scrapes, but not much else." It had been a humbling reminder that her grasp of English was far from perfect. "Oh, and they put you under to keep you from attacking the ambulance technicians."
Green eyes searched hers warily. "No mind wiper?"
"No mind wiper," she confirmed, trying her best to sound earnest. "I'd never let that happen."
Whatever tension was animating him at last seemed to snap and start some sort of shutdown sequence. His energy was failing, and he yawned again, settling down into the bed, and glancing at the now vacant half of where he lay before meeting her eyes, gaze full of unspoken meaning.
She sucked in a breath and did what her heart told her was right.
She kicked off her white human shoes without untying the complicated knot she'd mastered only a few months ago, and heard their rubber-like bottoms land with a 'flop' against the strange shiny floor. With a deep breath the girl from half a galaxy away slowly brought one leg over the hospital bed's high steel-tube railing, balancing on a shaky tiptoe and hesitating. She had to test if the wide bed would suddenly roll away on her. Natalie had seen technicians guiding patients down the wide, winding corridors by the same plastic handle she was holding to balance herself, and was glad when she didn't accidentally engage some kind of control panel button and send both herself and Elias crashing through the far wall and into the hallway.
What a nightmare of an explanation that would be...
Relieved that there was no sudden disaster, she refocused her attention on the boy she'd basically pushed into bed and then climbed in after, hoping to hold him. Her face was close, she realized, and he was staring at her in confusion. His green eyes kept flicking back and forth between meeting her gaze and trying to guess her intentions by her expression. She hadn't meant to- imply– hadn't he meant-?
If her heart was pounding before, now the rush of blood in her ears was going to make her dizzy.
Natalie propped herself up on an elbow and away from his face, looking down from where her black tee shirt ended against faint purple skin, and contrasted against his alien hues. He similarly got up on one elbow.
Feeling she should make her intentions plain, she slowly slid one arm through the gap, inviting him to lie in her arms so she could hold him the way he'd held her, back when she was so sick.
She experimentally wrapped one hand over his far shoulder until she rested against him in a way that felt protective, though she worried it might also be a bit possessive. At least he can't take off on me again- though that thought lasted only a half second until he decided to start shuffling around. 
Natalie backed off, worried she'd taken things way too far until he grabbed hold of her and pulled himself in close, stopping just short of kissing her. She froze up, completely unsure of what to do, even as his arm curled around. She was supposed to be holding him- and instead, now he was holding her! Except her arm was now pinned between his arm, the bed, and his back.
She had to admit the moment was still nice, even intimate for all of a second before a painful throbbing started from where her arm had its blood flow choked off at the . She wasn't sure what to do about it. She tried tugging her arm free but his torso was surprisingly solid and had her pinned. She finally gave up, resting her head on his shoulder.
The Shil'vati girl lifted a knee to carry the sheets that she'd managed to halfway slip under, using a foot until the fabric met with her free hand. She pulled the soft fabric up and over his paper shirt, tucking it over his shoulder. There, that was better- and she pitied how cold he must be, even if he was radiating warmth.
She was close to his chest, she realized, and a long ear pressed against his shoulder could still make out his own heartbeat. This wasn't comfortable, though, and her arm began to grow sore. How could she tell him that she was when all of this was her own doing? It wasn't natural. She was supposed to be holding him, after all!
Natalie was just about to beg him to sit up, when he unknowingly showed mercy by tossing and turning a bit, perhaps not finding the position comfortable either. Either way her numb hand was freed for just a blissful moment.
Then his hand moved from where he'd left it to around her upper back, pulling himself up against her neck. This was her opportunity! She tried to find a spot to quickly hold him, something that felt natural, only to immediately draw a blank. What was natural, exactly? She'd never held anyone! Still by just the comfort of the proximity, she felt a warmth travel up her body fuse with where he was pressed into her, and she quickly felt herself flushing blue. She kept her mind focused on helping him- what was a good position? Everything about this was awkward!
She could only hope it wasn't too obvious she had never done anything like this before and couldn't find a comfortable spot to put her arm to where it ran behind his back. None of this was going the way she'd imagined. Perhaps it was the stupid design of the bed- there was no depression for her arm to sneak under and wrap itself around him. An obvious design oversight, really.
Has anyone ever been so bad at this? It's supposed to come naturally! She could hardly imagine the humiliation at even asking the DataNet: 'How do I do the most natural thing a girl is supposed to be able to do: Comforting a hurt boy? Am I too weak to even snuggle correctly?'
Natalie decided instead to shuffle higher on the bed, and when he stirred, she pulled his head into the crook of her neck, holding down the sigh of relief as sensation and blood flowed back into her freed arm. Sure, it was trapped between their bodies, but at least it wasn't choked off from blood flow anymore. She thought about trying to find something to do with it before giving up after several agonizingly amateurish attempts.
All her fears of failure slowly faded as his breathing grew deeper and steadier, and he relaxed into her.
The sensation of closeness sent warm tingles up from the base of her spine that turned to shocks when his thumb hooked and slowly ran over the back of the hand she'd given up on doing anything with. She struggled to stay still as he repeated the motion, again and again. She had to give reassurance and hide any hint of shameful excitement at being welcome to stay by his side. She could have jumped for joy if it didn't mean interrupting the moment, but she'd need something to work the nervous energy off.
At last an idea came, and she started to rock him, trying to remember the cadence he'd used back when she was sick in bed. Back and forth, back and forth. She worried she had gotten either it or the angle wrong, because he soon gave her a squeeze around the middle, holding her tight.
She traced her nails experimentally down the back of his neck, and was greeted with a sound that set every nerve on fire when he gasped, and felt him sink into her shoulder just a little more, his hot breath deepening and slowing, until he clenched her back, and his arm released her.
He didn't quite scream, nor did he try to push away the way she feared he might. Instead, he had gone quite still.
"Like that?" She asked softly.
He just nodded, the pressure not at all unpleasant. "'M sorry," he mumbled. "It just...it feels..." he didn't have the word for it, apparently, because he trailed off. "nice. Relaxing..."
She gently ran her long, paint-chipped nails back over the same spot, and she felt the sigh of warm breath against her neck.
Minutes passed, and she quietly whispered his name, slowing down her gentle rocking.
No response aside from his head slowly rubbing against her shoulder, and she smiled to herself.
He was fast asleep in her arms.
She'd done it.
Mission accomplished. She'd rescued the boy, she'd comforted him when he woke up, and now he was fast asleep in her arms, recovering.
Everything would be okay.
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[A/N]
This seemed like a good place to pause the chapter due to it being ~30k in length out of the max of 40k that reddit allows, and the chapter being just plain too long. The next chunks are mostly ready. The new job starts roughly in the next week or two, when my paperwork goes through, and I'm sick, all of which has left me with lots of free time.
Archive Of Our Own/"AO3" contains the latest version of Alien-Nation with a lot of added scenes, flow improvements, and so on. (You can also download the story as an ePub for reading on your personal device, if you feel like doing so, though I recommend waiting until Book One is truly finished.)
Link to Archive Version here:

Steven was on the beach, it was six in the morning and he was about to surf. The waves were perfect for it, it wasn't too hot outside. So it was the right time for a little morning surfing. Greg and Rose weren't up yet. So it was just him out on the water and a few people who also came to the beach. The boy saw a wave coming up. he paddled out to it, popped up on the board and he surfed that wave.
"Woah! Look at that little guy go!" A man said, sitting on his board. Watching Steven. Some other people joined in on the fun, Steven wanted to put on some music, but a guy on the beach put his iPhone into the dock of his iHome and he turned on some rock music. 'What I've Done' by 'LINKIN PARK' played on full volume.
Rose walked out and leaned on the railing of the wooden balcony, watching her son. (since Steven was the smallest one there) Then the door opened to the house. Her husband walked out and put an arm around her waist. Greg went on his tippy toes and kissed her on the cheek.
"Is Steven in the water?" Greg asked after a few minutes of silence. Rose nodded and pointed, Greg recognized the figure as their son, and he went back inside. She was confused at first, but then she saw that her husband was dressed in blue swim trunks that had a white palm tree pattern, he was shirtless and was carrying his surfboard under his arm.
Rose smiles and watches her husband go down the steps and get into the water to surf.
She went to go change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. She also walked down the wooden steps and sat by the water, some surfboards were sticking out in the sand and some people were talking or sitting on beach towels. She took out her phone and took a picture to send to her friend, Ameythest. She had forgot a few times that they were three hours behind them since her team lived in California.
Rose watched as her son and husband were out on the beach having fun. A woman walked to her and sat in the sand. "Hello," Rose said, waving toward her.
"Hi." the woman said. She is wearing a dark green bikini with triangle cups and ties that fasten around her neck and back. The bottoms tie at the sides and feature a minimal coverage design. The woman has a medium skin tone and long, dark brown hair styled in loose waves. She is smiling and facing her. "Hi, I'm Allison." She said.
"Hello, Allison, I'm Rose." she smiled, a chunk of her pink hair falling off her shoulder.
"You are pretty."
Rose smiled. at her. Blushing; "I get that a lot."
"Oh?" Rose nods. "Multiple people tell me that I'm pretty."
"Well, you are. Are you a model?"
"No, I was a commander," she said casually.
"A commander? Like for the US Army?"
"Mmmmm, something like that. Have you watched Transformers?" Rose asked. Allison nodded.
"It's like that, but I command a rebellion against my kind." Allison wanted to believe that that wasn't true or that she was making it up, but half of her told her that she was not joking.
"So you lead a rebellion?" she nods again, Then Greg walks out, holding his surfboard, Steven is next to him. He wore a pair of pink swim shorts, Allison saw something… Different about him, He had a pink gem where his navel should be. and he was tiny. Maybe she thought he was about five years old.
"Aww, who's this little guy?" Alison asked.
Rose smiled as her son sat next to her on the sand. "This is my son, Steven," she told her. Allison wondered, and wanted to ask her.
"If you don't mind me asking, how old is he?"
"I'm seven," he said.
"Wow." She said with a smile on her face. "He looks so cute."
"Thank you," he said, smiling at her. Greg smiled and put a hand on his son's shoulder. Steven looks up at his father.
"Alright, let's go inside and have breakfast, then after we can go back to the beach," Greg said, Rose and Steven agreed with that and they went to the beach house for breakfast.
Two boys stepped out of a 2008 Ford Mustang with their mother. They were both wearing bathing suits.
The first boy appears to have short brown hair, a cheerful smile, and bright eyes. He is wearing a plain white t-shirt and standing in the sand. He is in a happy mood, radiating positivity and warmth through his expression. He has brown hair. The combination of his smile and bright eyes could indicate a sense of joy or contentment, adding a sense of innocence and youthfulness to his overall appearance.
The other boy has a joyful expression on his face. He has curly hair and is dressed in a black T-shirt. The t-shirt features a graphic design with multiple white panels, which may contain comic strips and a large white swoosh logo. The overall atmosphere of the photo is festive and cheerful, with a greenish background and sparkling white stars adding to the lively ambiance. The young boy in the image has a joyful expression on his face. He has curly hair and is dressed in a black t-shirt and red swim shorts, The t-shirt features a graphic design with multiple white panels, which may contain comic strips and a large white swoosh logo.
"Lance, Mikey." A woman told the two seven-year-old boys.
"Yeah, mom?" Lance said, walking up toward his mother. His mother was a tall woman, not as tall as Rose. She stood at six foot seven. She has a light complexion and long blonde hair that is casually styled, flowing around her face and shoulders. She is wearing a dark top, with short shorts with a bikini underneath her clothes. Lance and Mikey both helped their mom with items, such as towels and an umbrella.
Steven sat at the table with his mother, as his father made breakfast. Rose saw two boys and one woman walk up the stairs through the glass leading outside to the house. They heard a knock on the door, Steven opened it and saw his friends standing there with their mother, Luisa.
"Guys! You're here!" Steven hugs both of his friends.
"Hey, Steven!" Kyle said.
"Hey, man!" Lance said, giving him a high five. Steven gave both of his friends hugs and they walked in with their mother.
"Hi, Greg, hi Rose." Luisa greeted them.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Universe!" Lance and Kyle said.
"Hi guys, how are you?" Rose asked. Rose now wore another one-piece swimsuit. Like the last one, her gem was exposed. And, her pink hair was tied back in a ponytail, they were about to go back out again to surf. Greg, Rose, and Steven were almost finished eating breakfast and they were going back onto the beach.
"Do you want breakfast guys, Mom made French toast." Steven said, standing up and putting his plate in the kitchen.
"No thanks, we just ate back at the house," Mikey said, Lance nodded. Steven went back outside with his friends. Their surfboards were leaning on the side of the house, Steven grabbed his that was by his dad's and went down the wooden steps.
Steven, Lance, and Mikey all went down to the beach and they were now playing together. Greg and Rose then came outside with their surfboards and they were now out on the water.
Steven was now in his room, playing GameCube with his friends Lance and Mikey, who wanted to sleep over. Rose said yes, and now, Rose was making popcorn for the boys for a movie that they were going to watch in the living room. The movie was set on the silver VHS/DVD player they had sitting inside the large TV.
"Boys! Popcorn is ready!" Steven's mother called out. Steven, Lance, and Mikey raced downstairs and all sat in the living room. "What movie is this mom?" Steven asked, sandwiched in between his bigger seven-year-old friends.
"Lilo & Stitch," Rose said, Steven's eyes lit up into the shapes of stars.
"I love that movie!" he said, Rose chuckled. "I know you do, Steven."
"Your dad should be back with the pizza." She said as she saw a pair of headlights in the distance.
"That must be him!" Steven said excitedly. Rose chuckled at her son's enthusiasm. Running to the door, Steven opened for him, letting the summer air come in as well as the smell of the sand and the ocean Greg was walking up the stairs and smiled when he saw his son holding the door for him.
"Thanks, Schu-Ball," Greg said, ruffling up his curly black hair, Steven closed the door and locked it. He set the box down on the table so the boys could eat. Steven opened the box and gasped, stars in his eyes. "Pepperoni!" he said, he and his friends grabbed a slice then ate some pizza and watched the movie.
"OH, YOUR TOUCHING ME!"
"Not touching."
"TOUCHING ME!"
"It's free air!"
Steven licked Lance. "EW!" Mikey laughed as he ate his popcorn.
"That's funny."
"No, it's not!" Lance said, going into the kitchen and washing his face.
"Did your parents go to bed, Steven?"
"No, there outside on the porch," he said, looking at the wrap-around porch through the window, the lights were on and Greg was strumming his acoustic guitar.
"Okay guys, let's play Shadow The Hedgehog!" Steven said, opening his TV and handing Lance and Mikey two controllers.
"I'll be the original Shadow."
"I'll be gold Shadow!"
"I'll go next after you guys!" Steven said, putting his Sony TV to the right input as they played the game.
"Hey, Steven. Is there any water or something?" Lance said, getting up from the floor.
"Yeah, they should be in the fridge," he said. Lance went to the fridge and saw a whole case of water bottles, he grabbed one and went back upstairs to his bedroom.
"Hey, Steven. why don't you have any walls and a door?"
"My parents thought that it was cool like this, and I agree with them," Steven said, playing the game.
Lance nodded and they went back to playing.
The next day, Lance, Mikey, Steven, and Greg were playing volleyball on the beach, and Rose was surfing.
"Steven! it's your serve!" Lance said, Steven threw the volleyball into the air and tried to serve it, but he was too small to reach over the net, so the ball went under it instead.
"Ugh! I'm too short for this game!" he said in frustration. Then, Greg walked to the other side of the net and knelt to his level.
"Steven, you can do anything you set your mind to," Greg said, touching his shoulder. Steven didn't believe that.
"Dad! Just admit it, I'm a joke. An excuse, I wish I… I was more human, like Kyle, Lance, and Lucas. And all of the kids at school! I HATE the way I look." Tears welled up in his eyes and are now streaming down his cheeks. Greg listened to his son vent.
"Every day at school I was called a baby because I look like I'm in the first grade still! I would get made fun of by COUNTLESS KIDS CONSTANTLY! The coaches would not put me on a team with kids when we would play basketball because I'm 'too short' or I have some kind of 'growth problem' You know how AWFUL THAT IS! Why do I always get the short end of the stick, why am I always discriminated against because I was born differently maybe… Maybe I shouldn't been born at all!" Seven finished his rant, balling up his fists and glaring at the sand beneath his feet.
Greg felt his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. No seven-year-old should think like this. He put a hand on his shoulder. "Steven. What made you think like this, dude?"
"Remember that kid I told you and Mom about last year, the boy who I think got held back a year or so and was in Miss. Philips class with me and Lucas?"
"Yeah."
"Well he called me all kinds of names, and the one that stuck with me the most was 'baby' he told me to go back to kindergarten!" Greg didn't say anything but took him and hugged his son.
"You know." he started. "I don't understand this gem stuff, but your mom and I both love you, Steven. Don't talk like that about yourself again, understand?" Steve nods. Greg smiled kissed his hair and stood up. Steven looked at the ocean, the sound of the waves, the sand, and the salty air hitting his nose.
Steven was at the mall with his friends and his mom in Delaware. Steven was on his mother's shoulders. "What do you want to do first guys?" Rose asked.
"Mom, can I get a new hat?" Steven asked.
"Sure," she said, walking into a Spencer's. Steven picked out a Sonic The Hedgehog beanie. Rose smiled and examined it.
It was a beanie hat with a vibrant blue and black pattern. The pattern includes stylized text that is artistically designed, making it somewhat abstract and challenging to read. Notably, there is an embroidered patch of Sonic the Hedgehog, a popular video game character, displayed on the fold of the beanie. Sonic is depicted in his classic running pose, colored in blue with details in white, red, and flesh tones for his face and arms.
Steven's eyes had stars in them and wanted to try it on, Rose smiled and helped him slip it on his curly head of hair. Rose's eyes lit up and smiled, admiring how adorable he was! "You look so handsome!" Rose said, his friends nodded in agreement. Steven went to the mirror and looked at himself.
"I'll take it, Mom!" he said, excitement in his voice.
Rose smiled and got one for herself too, she looked in the mirror and gasped at how cute she looked in it!
It displayed the pink beanie on her head, adorned with an embroidered design depicting a cartoon-style character on the front. The character exudes a playful and mischievous vibe, characterized by its large eyes and expressive features atop of her naturally pink hair.
"You look so good, mom! We should get one for Dad too. What do you think he will like?" Steven asked.
"Isn't his favorite character Tails?"
"Yeah, but maybe we can get both, Or we can get Vector The Crocodile., 'cause Dad likes music. And vector is a DJ." Rose liked that idea
"Alright, Vector it is then!" she said, reaching up for it and grabbing it. "Wow…. I still can't believe that I have an eight-foot-tall mom." Steven said, with stars in his eyes as he looked at his mother in amazement.
Rose giggled and ruffled her son's hair.
They stepped out of Spencer's and now decided to eat at the food court. Lance and Mikey got something, they got two Sonic shirts. Steven wore his beanie and Rose wore hers also. Steven was holding his mother's hand as they walked through the mall.
Steven held the Spencer's bag as they went to the food court.
"Can we get Burger King, Mrs. Universe?" Lance asked. Rose smiled "Yes you guys can, Steven. do you want Birger King also?"
"Can I have Taco Bell?" he asked.
"Ohh, that sounds wonderful. I'll maybe have that myself." Rose said. She knelt and pulled out ten dollars for Lance and Mikey.
"You know where it is, do you?" she said, handing Lance the bill.
They both nod and walk to the Burger King.
Steven, Rose, Lance, and Mikey all sat down and ate their food. "Thanks for this, Mrs. Universe," Mijey said, dipping his chicken nuggets in barbecue sauce.
"No problem guys."
"Raise your hands if you think Mrs. Universe is the best!" Mikey said, dipping a fry in the sauce. Lance, Mikey, and Steven all raised their hands. Rose laughed and smiled.
"I think you guys are pretty great also." she smiled at them, Steven hugged her from the side, and Rose hugged him back.
"Rose was driving her husband's van back to Dewey Beach. Steven was sitting in the front and looking out the window. The radio was playing Sum 41. Rose drummed her hands on the steering wheel and Steven drummed his fingers on the window.
Steven took off his beanie and set it on his lap. He saw that the beach was coming up and Rose stopped the van and they got out Steven grabbed the bag and they went upstairs, Steven giggled at the door handle.
"Hey, mom! it's locked! I think Dad's not in the house."
"I have a key, Steven." she smiled and opened the door to the beach house. Just then, a 2008 Ford Mustang pulled up next to their MR. UNIVERSE van then step out. "Boys, your mother is here. Get your stuff." Rose said. Lance and Mikey went inside and grabbed their stuff.
"Bye, Steven. See you tomorrow or something." Lance said.
"Bye, guys!" Steven waved as they went down the steps and to their mother's car.
"Steven, If you want to go into town, you can. You remember how to get back, right?" Rose asked. Steven nods and hugs his mother.
"Thanks, mom." Steven ran down the steps, Rose was leaning on the porch, watching her son leave. Steven was walking around the boardwalk, he saw some people as he was looking around.
Steven came back home a few hours later. Rose was reading on her phone at the minibar.
"Hey, Steven how was your walk?" Rose asked.
"Hey, mom. It was good, thanks for asking," he said, walking up the stairs.
Rose, Greg, and Steven were now dressed. It was later in the evening, Steven was wearing a blue polo shirt, jeans, and a pair of red Converse high tops. Also, to complete his look. He was wearing his Sonic The Hedgehog benie Rose wore a white button-down shirt with pink jeans and a pair of white Adidas. Greg wore a long-sleeved shirt with blue jeans and a pair of white Converse with his Vector The Crocodile beanie. They were going to a party in Washington tonight at Christopher's and Jasmine's house.
Steven grabbed something from his room, he grabbed his Nintendo DS with a copy of Super Mario Bros inside. Steven, Greg, and Rose all walked downstairs. Greg opened the door to his van and sat inside. He put the key in the ignition and left Dewey Beach.
Steven, Rose, and Greg saw a large home come up.
A charming two-story suburban house with a striking brick facade and numerous large windows. The design of the house is symmetrical, with a central entrance that is flanked by two evenly spaced windows on either side. Above the entrance, there is a large arched window, adding to the architectural symmetry of the building.
The roof of the house is multi-gabled, suggesting the presence of additional space on the second floor or in an attic. A concrete driveway leads up to an attached two-car garage, located on the right-hand side of the house and seamlessly integrated into the main structure.
The landscaping surrounding the house is meticulously maintained, featuring manicured grass, various shrubs, and a few young trees. This attention to detail enhances the overall aesthetic appeal and creates a tidy and welcoming atmosphere. The clear sky in the background indicates that it is dark, with the house lights on.
Greg parked on the driveway and killed the engine. Rose and Steven both went up to the house and knocked.
A woman opened the door with a joyful expression, looking directly at the couple. She has long, straight black hair and is adorned with a blue top. Her makeup is subtly applied, naturally enhancing her features, with a bright, engaging smile on her face.
"Greg, Rose!" Jasmine said, shaking both their hands. She looked at Steven and knelt at his level. "And little Steven!" she said with a large smile.
"Hello, Jasmine," he said. Jasmine smiled.
"Come in, Steven. Lucas is in the living room with everybody." Steven nodded and walked into the house. He walked into the living room and saw Lucas and everyone playing Guitar Hero on the Nintendo WII.
"Lucas!" he smiled and saw him on the couch with their five other friends around the same age range as both boys. Steven sat on the couch and watched three of his friends, Joey, Ryan, and Andrew all in front of the TV. Steven saw the song list, Andrew selected a song, and Steven's eyes widened.
"Wait! Go up!" he said. Andrew went up and the song displayed the name 'Comet' Mr. Universe, 1984.
"Can you play that one? It's my dad's song!" Steven told them, stars in his eyes.
"Woah! Cool. We can play it!" Andrew said as he pressed the green button and they got into the game, "Wait, pause it. I'll be back!" Steven said, running into the kitchen where the adults were. Greg had a can of soda in his hand as his other arm was wrapped around Rose's waist.
"Dad! you gotta come into the living room!" Steven said, grabbing his bicep.
"Woah! Where's the fire, buddy?" Greg asked, letting go of Rose and kneeling to his level.
"Dad! come into the living room, mom can come too!" he exclaimed, running towards his friends Greg and Rose both walked into the living room and Andrew unpaused it, they were playing the song.
Some... say I have no direction, that I'm a light-speed distraction, that's a knee-jerk reaction.
Still, this is the final frontier, everything is so clear, to my destiny I steer
This life in the stars is all I've ever known,
Stars and stardust in infinite space is my only home
Greg and Rose both smiled and watched the kids play.
But the moment that I hit the stage, thousands of voices are calling my name
And I know in my heart it's been worth it all of the while
And as my albums fly off of the shelves, handing out autographed pics of myself,
This life I chose isn't easy but sure is one heck of a ride
"Do you remember that we met two decades ago, I was watching you play and the rest was history."
Greg smiled. "You know I do, babe," he said. They both listened to the rest of the song.
At the moment that I hit the stage, I hear the universe calling my name
And I know deep down in my heart I have nothing to fear
And as the solar wind blows through my hair, knowing I have so much more left to share
A wandering spirit who's tearing its way through the cold atmosphere
I'll fly like a comet
Soar like a comet
Crash like a comet
I'm just a comet
Greg and Rose looked into each other's eyes, Rose had stars in her eyes, and being reminded of how they met holds a special place in their hearts. They both leaned in for a passionate kiss.
Steven and his friends were by the pool. It was a luxurious and modern backyard setting with a swimming pool as the focal point. The pool area is elegantly designed with a neatly paved deck surrounding a sleek, rectangular swimming pool. On the right-hand side, there is a dining area under a large parasol, complete with a contemporary table and chairs, perfect for outdoor dining experiences. Next to the dining area, there is a cozy seating space featuring a wooden bench, providing a comfortable spot for relaxation.
The architecture of the house is modern and stylish, characterized by large glass doors and a minimalist design aesthetic. The garden surrounding the house is beautifully landscaped, with lush green lawns and a variety of ornamental grasses and flowering plants adding to the overall charm of the space. The combination of the swimming pool, outdoor dining area, seating space, and well-maintained garden creates a tranquil and inviting atmosphere in this backyard setting.
"Chris, aren't you waiting for the delivery driver to get here with the sushi?" Jasmine asked, Chris nodded.
"He will be here with the platter, Jasmine. And Steven, I did order you avocado and cucumber, I know that you don't eat fish." Steven smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, Jasmine," he said, smiling. Jasmine smiled back at him.
"Sushi is here," Christopher said, that Steven, Lucas, Joey, Ryan, and Andrew were all talking about their favorite cartoons.
"Hey, Steven. Have you seen this show called Chowder? It's so funny!" Andrew said. Steven nods. "Heck yeah! Have you seen Teen Titans?" he asked.
"It's a shame that the director canceled it," Joey said.
"How about The Grim Adventures Of Billy And Mandy?" Ryan asked.
"YES!" Steven said. "I loved that show, my favorite character was Fred FredBurger, Uh. Joudge, joudge!" Steven said.
"The nachos made my poopoo really stinky!" Rose cut in, the boys burst out laughing at that.
"I love that show," Rose said, stars in her eyes.
"Awesome! But.. You're an adult."
"So, I like cartoons too. When I came to Earth, years later like. Thousands of years later after I met Greg, the first movie we watched together was Transformers The Movie."
"Wait, how old are you?" Joey asked.
"She's over a thousand years old," Steven said. Joey choked on his water.
"Wait, what?!" he asked, as he coughed. Steven nodded and looked at his mother.
Joey looks at Rose. "She looks like she's in her early twenties."
"I know," Steven said.
"Wait, I remember the first time we met, I asked your mom that if you had a growth defency, no offense."
Steven knows that he doesn't mean that but, all the years of him getting talked down to and bullied by other kids in his grade made it impossible for him.
"I think I do because I'm almost eight and I still look like I'm four." Steven tried to keep his anger inside, but his parents told him to not keep your feelings inside. Steven looked up at his mother, Rose looked down at him and knelt to his level.
"Steven, are you okay?" Steven shook his head. Rose looks at her husband, Greg nods and removes his keys from his pocket.
"No, I don't want to go home. I… I need some time." he said, Greg knelt to his level.
"Are you sure, Schu-Ball? We can take you home." Greg said, concern in his voice.
"I'm fine Dad." Greg nods and then puts his keys back into his pocket. Joey looked down on the floor and Greg walked to him.
"I know it wasn't your fault, Joey. But next time, be careful what you say next time." he had a warm smile on his face saying 'Hey, I'm not mad at you, just don't do it again' Joey nods. "Steven had a lot of trouble from other kids for his height," Greg said. Joey nodded sadly and looked at Steven.
"Sorry, Steven."
"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it," he said, hugging him.
The Universe family drove back to Dewey Beach, Steven fell asleep in the back of the van. Greg was driving, Rose was looking out the window, and LINKIN PARK was playing softly on the radio. It was a comfortable silence.
Rose reached for his hand, Greg smiled and intertwined his fingers in between hers.
"I sometimes can't imagine mine or Steven's lives without you, Rose," Greg said, breaking the silence. Rose smiled and looked at him, Greg stopped at a red light and they both kissed. Then they broke the kiss.
"I love you, Mr. Universe," Rose told him softly. Greg smiled.
"I love you too, Mrs. Universe," Greg said, then. He had another name. "Or, should I say Mrs. Quartz Universe?" Rose giggles. "I like it…"
They drove back to the beach house and put Steven to bed. Then they went to bed themselves.
A/N: Hi guys, Hopefully you guys are enjoying this story so far as much as I am. Now for some questions.
Q: This was amazing! It was so wholesome and cute! I wonder whether we'll see more of the Crystal Gems adapting to modern life on Earth?
A: Yes, you will see them in the story. But I don't know what chapter.
Hopefully, you guys are liking the story, Making it is a little bit of a struggle. But hopefully, I get to keep writing this fanfic for you guys. If you have any suggestions My Tumblr is; steven1123x

Hi. I found this Walkman model sale at my local marketplace around 120 usd with full package. Is this player good for casual listener? How about the performance? I have iPhone, iPod and Zune but decide wanna explore something new in audio world and also feel sound quality of my iPhone kind of boring. Is it worth the price and what can I expect from this model? Thanks

Most questions I see on this subreddit recently are people asking where they can find the smartest dumb phones. “Where can I find a dumb phone with 5g, WhatsApp, TikTok, YouTube, Google Maps, Bluetooth etc..” And then there are the people showing off how they got instagram and TikTok working on a flip phone. And I really don’t understand the EDCs with an Apple Watch, AirPods, Nintendo DS AND a game boy, a cd player and zoon/ iPod touch, 3 books, a knife, and a pack of cigarettes. I could be wrong, but I though the point of this sub was to help people find ways to disconnect, but so many don’t want to, they just want people to think they’re quirky. Why come to this subreddit looking for dumb phones with the smartest features humanly possible.
Anyway, complaining over.

Session 0: https://www.reddit.com/DeltaGreenRPG/comments/1d0l92x/impossible_landscapes_session_0/
(Okay, these will be long. Five players, lmao. Hadn't quite accounted for that)
Operation ALICE, New York, 1995
The Roster (Player/Character)
Lea (she/her): Jules Gradkowska - Agent MIRANDA. Journalist - research and human intelligence.
Iain (he/him): Ralph Bevis - Agent MILHOUSE. Academic - history and occult specialist.
Quinn (he/him): Richard Delapore - Agent MAVERICK. FBI Special Agent - criminal and forensic expert and the official 'face' of the investigation.
Phil (he/him): Jean Duvall - Agent MAIN. US Navy Master Chief Petty Officer - operational security specialist.
Duncan (he/him): Jake Little - Agent MALATESTA. Civilian contractor - computer and electronic specialist with a side line in hacking.
Rob_sothoth (he/him) - Handler. The arbiter of the world: the good, the bad and that which cannot and should not be named.
Background: The Agents of M-Cell are tasked with investigating the apartment of Abigail Wright. Missing since June, Delta Green has reason to suspect para-natural involvement. Their orders are simple: catalogue the apartment and remove anything deemed suspect for destruction.
Despite heavy changes made, full spoiler warning for Impossible Landscapes.

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Session 1 "The Apartment" (May 24th, 2024)
New York: Tuesday, August 8th, 1995
1:45pm - 3:32pm, EST
Entering the lobby of the Macallistar building in Kips Bay, NYC, the Agents first make a sweep of Abigail's mailbox. Agent MARCUS (M-Cell Case Officer) provided them with a complete set of keys, not to be copied. The mailbox is stuffed full with bills, junk mail, catalogues and offers; mail still being delivered by people who have no idea Abigail is missing. MAVERICK gathers it in a bag and they make their way to Abigail's apartment (Ground floor).
The Macallistar echoes an earlier age. Faded purple carpeting and design from the turn of the century. Opposite Abigail's front door is an old-fashioned telephone nook, complete with bench and curtain for comfort and privacy when phone-lines in individual apartment was an expense few could afford.
M-Cell enters the apartment, finding it somewhere between a hoarder's dream and crime-scene technician's nightmare. The small hallway leads to a living-room (the apartment's largest space), an adjoining bedroom and a kitchen and bathroom opposite each other. Aside from the hallway, on first inspection the only other uncluttered space is the kitchen, which doesn't really look as if it's been used much. MAVERICK ear-marks that as something he wants to check himself as the team begin taking stock.
The NYPD has left a box with copies of their files, including a list of tenants they interviewed, many, many evidence collection bags and a box of latex gloves.
The apartment is filled with various items, with almost no floor visible beneath the collection. CDs and CD cases are stuck or glued to the wall, along with mannequin parts, sketches and assorted pieces that might be ceramic or plastic arranged in odd patterns without reason or rhyme. Stacks of phone books, stretches of dyed fabrics stitched together, an antique claw-footed lamp. Bags, bundles of pictures (drawings and photographs) of seeming nonsense. No furniture is immediately visible in the chaotic mess.
MAIN finds the same result in the bedroom as the first Search rolls are called for. Something catches his eye in the anarchy of the bedroom.
MALATESTA begins sorting through the pile of mail. MILHOUSE at first begins helping, but seeing the scale of the cataloguing, volunteers to make a coffee and food run. MIRANDA begins photographing, while MAVERICK gloves up and asks for things to be passed to him such as brushes, anything with a handle really or something more likely to have fingerprints on it. He wants to see if he can grab a set of Abigail's prints, if that's possible.
It doesn't take MALATESTA long to work out Abigail stopped paying her rent and bills in or around March before disappearing in June. Money was coming in up to a certain point, apparently from a showing Abigail had at the Mercury Gallery in Greenwich Village in November the previous year. There's even a letter from the gallery owner asking about another possible showing; from the way it's written, it might not have been the first time he spoke to Abigail before she vanished. Then, the only money coming in appears to be from her father, though she doesn't appear to have used it to cover the rent. He also gets the building management company, Art Life and their address.
As the Agents work, with MAIN carefully picking his way through the bedroom towards whatever caught his eye and MAVERICK uncovers a battery-powered hi-fi under all the trash, MILHOUSE returns from his coffee run and bumps into someone else entering the Macallistar at the same time he is. After an awkward hesitation on the threshold, MILHOUSE spends a little chatting to Lewis Post, one of Abigail's neighbours. MILHOUSE passes a HUMINT roll and I ruled that having spent most of his time in academics and his fellow PhDs, he can spot signs of some kind of social anxiety. I felt that was a fair get for a good success.
Lewis is hesitant but forthcoming as MILHOUSE works that high charisma score, knowing what to say to diffuse any potential tension. As far as Lewis knows, he is FBI of some kind after all.
MILHOUSE: "Did she ever mention a boyfriend? Girlfriend?"
Lewis: "Our relationship wasn't really like that. We had coffee sometimes. Talked about art. The process." He thinks. "She might have mentioned someone, but not a name, only what they did. A salesman, but I couldn't tell you what they sold."
MILHOUSE: "Talk about anything else?"
Lewis begins heading upstairs "She mentioned moving, but not before she was ready."
Back in the apartment, MAIN voices what others were thinking. "Where was she staying?" No bed, no signs of habitation except for the assorted hoard of crap. MAIN finds a hand grenade nestled in some papers and art supplies near the bedroom's walk-in closet.
In the living room, MAVERICK finds a single cassette tape in the uncovered hi-fi and flips it on, finding the batteries still live. Everyone hears MAVERICK's conversation with his significant other, Natalie from the previous evening. MAVERICK realises it's cut up and out of order, rewinds it and then flips it over. He thinks the entire conversation has been split between A & B sides of the tape.
MALATESTA and MAVERICK both consider phone-tapping, but MAIN, grenade temporarily forgotten, asks how it ended up here?
SAN check for MAVERICK. Pocketing the cassette tape, MAVERICK closes down a bit and prepares to go over the kitchen with a fine tooth comb; perhaps this is how he copes?
Before MAIN can mention the grenade he's worried about, MIRANDA, MALATESTA, MILHOUSE & MAVERICK notice something on the wall behind where the hi-fi was previously buried under junk. Fixed to the wall, maybe with some kind of glue is a piece of brown packing-paper with some kind of symbol drawn on it. Everyone focuses on it.

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3:41pm to 5:22pm, EST
MALATESTA: "That certainly looks like what we're supposed to be worried about."
MIRANDA snaps a polaroid. MILHOUSE tries to examine it, but his Occult check can only give him the vague thought it's connected to demonology, but little else beyond that. MAVERICK is cautious, but more concerned about getting to work on the unusually spotless kitchen.
Carefully, MIRANDA removes it and a blaring sounds like something between a horn blast and explosion almost deafens the Agents. It seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, from right next to them and outside at the same time.
Everyone passes a CONx5 check and the subsequent SAN check. Through the living room's window, MIRANDA, MILHOUSE and MAIN see a yellow-cab in the street outside. The cabbie appears to have leaned on the horn as someone crosses the street. They appear heavily dressed for summer, possibly homeless.
Is that a snake draped across their shoulders?
MIRANDA takes a polaroid while MILHOUSE and MAIN head outside to investigate. The picture reveals in sharp clarity, the cabbie staring down the barrel as she snapped the shot directly at her. MAVERICK gets to work in the kitchen and MALATESTA picks over things in the living room and bedroom respectively.
Search rolls for those in the apartment.
Outside, the cab has turned the corner and the pedestrian has carried on, though MAIN and MILHOUSE are able to work out where they went. MILHOUSE heads to cut off the other side of the alley, while MAIN approaches from behind, getting the pedestrian's attention. It's the height of summer in NYC, the air reeks of gasoline, rotting garbage and baking, soiled concrete and asphalt.
MAIN finds a nondescript, seemingly homeless man by the state of his clothes, but with a python draped over his shoulders. MAIN strikes up conversation, lighting a Gitane cigarette and pointing to the snake. From the other end of the alley, MILHOUSE makes his way towards the pair.
MAIN fails an alertness check.
Is this guy sweating? It's hot and he's bundled up like it's winter. Is he sweating? Why isn't he sweating?
Back in the apartment, MAVERICK tests the kitchen for blood and body fluids, breaking out the spray bottle and UV light. There's no cutlery, glassware or dishware anywhere in the room, but as he's lifting what could be a print, finds a mechanical diagram drawn on a napkin taped above the inside of an otherwise empty drawer. MALATESTA & MIRANDA continue their search of the living and bedroom, with MALATESTA finding a card printed with the following:
"For a good time Call D - 999-202-9989"
On the reverse are a series of what appear to be street corner addresses in Brooklyn. Could be a sex-line, could be a way to see Red Band underground film screenings, could be something online related. MALATESTA drifts between a few circles and he pockets it out of curiosity. When MIRANDA locates the grenade in the bedroom, she is careful to give it a wide berth and locates what MAIN missed: a backpack radio in the bedroom's walk-in closet. She calls MALATESTA over.
Back in the alleyway, MILHOUSE rolls under 10% and passes his disguise check. Dressed casually and a college athlete to boot, he fits the general chad look in his New York Knicks shirt despite his academic leanings. Being loud and obnoxious like he's drunk, he barrels into the homeless guy with the snake who stonewalled MAIN.
Instead he hits MAIN as the man with the snake is there and gone in the space between blinks. One moment MAIN is looking at him and then MILHOUSE knocks him flat on his ass. Like a film edit. Just gone. MAIN crit fails his SAN check and takes 4 SAN loss without projecting. Instead, as he scrambles up begins kicking over trash cans and searching the alley while MILHOUSE tries to calm him down and get a handle on things.
As MILHOUSE is talking MAIN out of tearing the alley apart, MIRANDA and MALATESTA check out the radio. As it comes to life, they listen and hear the following:
"Exeter. India. One. Thirteen. Sierra. Twenty. Twenty. Forty-nine."
MAVERICK meanwhile, finding the kitchen bare oddly finds the refrigerator stocked. There isn't much inside, some milk unopened and a pack of cheese and deli meat. Expiration is months ago, but through the plastic and glass of the bottle it looks fresh. Curious, he opens the milk and finds it smells as fresh as the day it was bought. Months ago.
Passes his SAN check. Given what he heard on the tape, it's not the strangest thing today.
MAIN and MILHOUSE detour to grab some more coffees, more to calm MAIN down and give him a (successful CHAx5 check) to flirt with the coffeeshop waitress. On their return, MAIN heads into the bedroom, pulls the pin on the grenade and activates the firing lever.
Nothing happens. His "hunch" was correct. Despite failing to properly identify it, something about the shape of it didn't match modern ordnance. Like the radio, it's vintage and either deactivated or else rendered inert by time and age.
I gave MAIN a SAN point back, because why not?
As things begin winding down, MILHOUSE and MAVERICK puzzle over the weird fridge, with MILHOUSE sacrificing his green tea and MAVERICK a donut to see how "fresh" they are come morning between the fridge and not.

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After 6pm, EST
Between them, M-Cell take the rest of the evening to take care of home-scenes or any unfinished business they can get done with their resources at hand. They also divide the Operational evidence from the Case evidence, with MIRANDA taking the symbol, MALATESTA the backpack radio & phone number, MAVERICK the cassette tape (for obvious reasons) and MAIN the mechanical sketch on the napkin.
MIRANDA and MILHOUSE, using the former's academic credentials both stay on the case, with MIRANDA leaving her photos from the park to develop in her bathroom. While she fails her roll, she does help MILHOUSE identify the demon the symbol refers to and book-related lead. She hits up a criminal contact named Hugo to put out feelers for weird items she may be interested in. He agrees for a fee, which she negotiates in her favour.
Returning to her apartment, MIRANDA finds her photos of the dancing clown and watching crowd have developed. In every photograph, the clown is turned away from her, but the faces in the crowd are looking at her. That's not how she remembers it. Fails a SAN check. Projects on to her editor, knowing she's going to be taking a "personal day" tomorrow, and this after she agreed to go to the grill.
This will have consequences.
MAIN, unnerved by the day's events, not the least of which was being knocked on his ass by a fitter, younger man, heads out. He returns to the coffeeshop he and MILHOUSE visited and takes the waitress he hit on out on a date. After a romantic interlude, MAIN has a new bond. Her name's Marsha, she's 27 and very nice.
Breaking Operational Security, MAVERICK asks MALATESTA to come back to his apartment and check for possible surveillance. Despite suffering comparatively little SAN loss overall, MAVERICK is letting the day's events impact his behaviour.
It's trivially easy for MALATESTA to confirm there are no bugs in place, which really does narrow the options for how the conversation could have been recorded. Thankful, he asks MALATESTA to keep this to himself for now, to which the grunge-kid agrees. MAVERICK drops MALATESTA near his home and leaves, putting the tape in the player of his car as he pulls away.
MALATESTA lives near the Village and diverts to check out the Mercury Gallery. Though closed, it seems legit and he makes a note of it for later. Back at home, he breaks open the backpack radio and examines it. The battery is not connected to the radio itself, the wires having been stripped out, yet he and MIRANDA both heard a voice on the end of its phone-mic. He passes his SAN check and finds in place of one of the transistors a small, black stone which does not feel like stone at all and feels like it's body temperature. MALATESTA leaves it on his desk, covered in a cloth.
Alone in his apartment, MAVERICK watches his phone. The time comes and he does not call Natalie. A moment later, his phone rings.
Alone in the apartment, MAVERICK does not answer.

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Post-Mortem
We ended up playing for a touch longer than I intended, but I knew that would happen by the time the cab sounded its horn. Despite some tiredness and some drinking, we ended up with a really strong session in retrospect, which has set the overall tone of the campaign for me as GM going forward. Between the five players, two have been through one Delta Green campaign, one has experience with Pulp Cthulhu and two have varying levels of exposure. They all roleplayed the f##k out of their characters and while I was worried about just how weird I wanted things to get out the gate, it feels like the balance is correct and I've given enough avenues for further investigation they may want to pursue.
I got a far better sense, as did the players, as to what drives and motivates their characters and how they cope or don't cope with Delta Green work.
MILHOUSE is definitely setting himself up as the curious academic, Iain playing his interest as forever drawn towards what's there "to discover," he said in character. Perhaps a fool and his sanity are easily parted?
MAVERICK is the "all-American", Agent Cooper adjacent FBI Agent who butts up against the para-natural and is seemingly rocked by it, revealing a complicated and perhaps conflicted depth. In his previous operation with MIRANDA, MAVERICK killed one person, but something about this has gotten under his skin. I wonder what Natalie thinks about their missed call?
A hacker by trade, MALATESTA likes a puzzle as much as he does not like the "weird shit." He talks a good talk when it's about something he knows, but is much too shy to chat up his co-worker. He and MAVERICK had some friction in Session 0 when MAVERICK wanted to call him Mal, to which the younger man pushed back against. Yet, he now knows where MAVERICK lives. Maybe he can learn more? What will he do with that? Does he even want to?
As much as MILHOUSE, MIRANDA is likewise driven by curiosity and a need to know, but first and foremost to keep herself safe. She and him are not the same. There's a scar above her hip from a knife, and it still twinges from time to time. She's also the first to directly or indirectly involve a Bond in the investigation. I wonder what Hugo will or won't find? I wonder what those photos mean. MIRANDA wondered aloud whether the crowd or the clown was the "entity." What does that mean?
Despite being built like Jack Reacher (albeit in a sailor suit), MAIN projects a tough air but is clearly a man at the crossroads. He turns 40 before 1995 ends; middle age. When hit with a problem or something he can't otherwise work out, his behaviour swings from one extreme to the other. To date, he's coped with the case by: lashing out at trash cans in an alley. Chatting up a waitress and forming a romantic bond with her. Pulling the pin on a grenade he "thought" could be fake. It's day one. I'm here for it.
Our next session is scheduled for June 7th, 2024.
Until then, be seeing you.

[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
"Now hear this, now hear this.
"In less than an hour we will drop out of jump space. Chances of an enemy encounter are high. We are far from home, far from support and surrounded by untold trillions of Mar-gite in deep space. This is good, it means we don't have to worry about what we shoot at.
"When the time comes, I have only one standing order: fight. Fight with every gun, every missile, every ounce of will and scrap of code at your disposal. If central control is lost, fight under local control. If isolated from the computers, fight under manual control. If boarded, fight for every corridor, every stateroom, every access way you can reach. Fight for your lives and if you find your situation hopeless, fight to drag the enemy into the grave with you.
"The Confederacy expects that every sentient will do their duty. Our duty is to engage the enemy.
"And the enemy only exists to be destroyed.
"That is all." -- Nova Wars Era, Confederate Space Force, speaker and ship of origin uncertain.
"Tell me, Sister? How far does your sight reach? How many years? And then, in the future, when we have given up strength, and allies, and numbers, and the potential to fight back meaningfully, time and again, in pursuit of your safe path... and you find out it is a cul-de-sac, surrounded on all sides by death, with no possible escape, because you traded away every chance of victory because you were scared... who will you blame then?" - Dhruv Deshmuhk, Legion, apocryphal, referenced in "Telling a Hard Truth straight: a love language", Psychology Forever Journal
"We fight, not for today, not for this blood soaked agony wracked terrible day or the horrible horrible victory we may wrench from the gnashing jaws of defeat with blood soaked hands.
"We fight for tomorrow. For those yet unborn. For the future.
"You are the hope of the Telkan people. You are the living standard, the banner, that says to the universe: We will not submit! We will not kneel! We will stand! We will fight!
"With that, know that the Telkan people are with you, Marine. Always." - Director Brentili'ik, in a speech to Telkan Marine Officer's Training Course Class #10, Confederacy-Council Conflict Era.
The flashes were starting. Not big ones, not the Flashbang, but rather the tiny pinpricks of harsh light that sparkled for a second that vanished.
Deaths that had happened seconds or minutes prior.
Captain N'Skrek stared out the windows of the Show Bridge, staring at the inky black of space. The ship, the Gray Lady, was in between the Galactic Arms, in the vast nothingness that held no stellar systems.
Oh, it had at one time.
Forty thousand years prior the stars between the two galactic arm spurs had gone out, with the exception of a single string of pearls liking the two galactic arms.
Now, the Gray Lady, a ship in the Colossus Class of ancient Confederacy Space Force classification, was deep into the gulf between the galactic arms. Just over halfway.
He could see the rings that made up a long tube, the rings held into position by what looked like, at a distance of light seconds, to be thin straps. Coasting silently through the rings, bathed by light emitted by the interior of the rings, were massive Mar-gite Attack Clusters.
Sparkles were starting to show on the clusters as the Fruit Flies made their attack runs.
Larger flashes, still rendered tiny by stellar distances, started shining to brief life as the C+ cannon barrages and the missile swarms started slamming into the shining chrome ships.
Return fire was causing the battlescreens to cover the ship in a gauzy veil.
"No, no, it's all death and destruction," a Terran woman moaned from where she was being held in place by three identical human males.
Captain N'Skrek knew that it was, without any doubt, a physical assault upon the female.
But Captain N'Skrek was also smart enough to know not to get involved when two Immortals of myth and legend were having a family squabble.
After all, were not the Treana'ad a crafty and wise people who managed to obtain victgory over 25% of all military engagements with the Terrans?
"We're humans, there's always death and destruction," the male said, his voice slightly mocking. "Look past the probabilities. Look past the initial death and destruction. Look at the pathways it all leads to. Look at the path that we're taking."
The woman struggled but the man held her still.
"It's all death and destruction! Millions! Billions! Trillions of deaths!" she wailed.
"The enemy's death toll does not matter, little sister," the man, known to historians as the Biological Apostle Vat-Grown Luke, told the woman. "It's war. There will be death and destruction no matter what. What matters, all that matters, is that humanity and its allies survive."
"Please, Luke," the woman started sobbing.
"Tears don't work on me," Legion said, his voice full of dark and cruel mirth.
He leaned his head down.
"I am... Legion," he said softly.
Captain N'Skrek put the two Immortals out of his mind as he coordinated the battle, taking tactical and strategic advice from his staff.
The Fruit Flies wreaked havoc on the rings, shattering them, letting superstructure damage work with inertia and momentum to tear the systems apart. C+ cannon shots hitting deep inside the megastructures. The shots were no longer straight iron ferrite slugs with a hyperdrive engine for thrust and reactionless inertia engines for guidance and terminal maneuvers, they now had a burning core of spooky and strange-particle FOOF that weighed in the metric kilotons.
"Fruit Fly system back online, Captain."
"Fabricate and launch," N'Skrek ordered. "Compliments on their initial strikes."
The silver ships were destroyed already, the temporal range finders reporting data from when the shells would hit, telling N'Skrek's staff where the ships would be when the shots were fired.
"I can't... I can't..." the woman sobbed when N'Skrek ordered another flight of Fruit Flies into the fight.
"Parse the deaths, parse the destruction," Legion said. Another of him pointed at the icons for the just-launched Fruit Fly flights. "They are born, they live, and they die to kill the enemy. Over and over, it's what they do. Look past their deaths at their accomplishments."
The Terran woman was sobbing, but N'Skrek didn't care.
He had a job to do.
Task Force Lonely Peach had a job to do.
It had came as no surprise to him that Legion would know, without being told or having it confirmed, what the ultimate goal of Task Force Lonely Peach.
After all, Legion himself had carried out such orders under the command of the Imperium.
It no longer mattered what happened behind the Gray Lady, whether or not the Confederacy or anyone else survived. It no longer mattered if the Mar-gite were victorious or not.
The target were not the Mar-gite, present in the massive rolled up long cones.
The target were the ones pushing them forward, the ones enabling them to cross the great emptiness between the two galactic arms.
No, the target was now those enabling the Mar-gite.
Captain N'Skrek's orders were simple.
Find the enemy.
Determine their leadership.
Attack their military.
Attack their planets.
Sterilize their stellar systems.
Break the will of their civilians to support their government.
Leave them no ground to go to.
His briefing had been grim. The Confederacy was confident it could eventually stop the Mar-gite.
Eventually.
That meant dozens, hundreds, possibly thousands of planets denuded of life. Just as many stars nova-sparked to wipe out any trace of the Mar-gite.
Task Force Lonely Peach had been dispatched with a very Terran mission.
To return to the Mar-gite's masters what they had given the Confederacy.
Tenfold.
Captain N'Skrek watched as the Fruit Flies split up into squadrons, heading for any remaining hulks of the silver ships, the larger pieces of the megaconstruct, and to fire upon any of the Mega-Clusters or larger.
"Look past the death and destruction," Legion was saying. "They'll be sending in reinforcements, Sacajawea," his voice grew low and deadly. "Where will they come out."
"No, I won't," she whispered, her eyes wide and staring at the holotank. "I won't use my gift," she sobbed.
"You will. You ran away last time. You left us to rely on The Detainee to access the SUDS. You ran off and left us and humanity has been extinct for forty-thousand years," Legion was saying. "No more running, little sister. You will use your gifts, your powers, as you were meant to."
There was a perfectly timed coincidental moment of silence on the Show Bridge.
"Show us the way," Legion said.
Sacajawea suddenly jerked upright, the tendons on her neck standing out as her face raised to the ceiling. Her arm lifted, pointing out the window of the Show Bridge. Her other hand thrust itself into the hologram. Her eyes glowed purple, lightning crackled up and down her raven braids, and sparks danced between her teeth as they chattered.
A section of space was outlined as she gibbered for a moment, fragments of words, chops of sentences, followed by a string of numbers that the tactical computers recognized as coordinates.
"They come, more than before. They know not what they face, just that the enemy, that we, are attacking them, attacking their forces, and so now they will arrive here and now," she cried out. "They do not know, they come in a multitude that not even this powerful vessel can resist. They come by the hundreds, and will overwhelm even this vessel according to my Sight."
She collapsed and Legion caught her even as two versions of him turned to face the windows.
"Let me know when you want me to call for those reinforcements I promised you," one said.
"Or not," the other said.
N'Skrek just nodded, turning and giving orders to the crew to prepare for a microjump to put them 'above' and 'away' from the point that Sacajawea had pointed out.
"Can she have lied?" N'Skrek asked, the Legion standing beside him as four others carefully carried Sacajawea off.
Legion shook his head. "No. I'd know if she was lying," he said. "She was filled with a trance, a fugue state, so the more mortal part of her wasn't there to lie."
"Hold off on those reinforcements until we can see what we are facing," N'Skrek said. He snorted. "I doubt the young lady fully appreciates the firepower the Gray Lady can put out."
"She was never military. She had some training, but not much," Legion said. "Still, she had a vision, take that as you will."
N'Skrek nodded. He turned and ordered up more Fruit Flies to be generated.
He'd have them launch as soon as the microjump was finished.
"Digital Sentiences, Virtual Intelligences report jump transit safety interlocks are engaged," came the word.
N'Skrek motioned. "Engage."
The painting appeared, but before N'Skrek could pause to look at it he was thrown through it, the image shattering into hundreds of shards of reality. They dissolved almost instantly.
N'Skrek only took a half-step forward as the ship entered realspace.
"Load the planet-crackers. Target the larger Mar-gite constructs. Let's see how they like that, since we don't have to worry about gravitational wobble," N'Skrek ordered. "When our new guests arrive, I want them to be focusing on the constructs."
"Fruit Flies are launching. Steam driven launcher only," came the report.
N'Skrek nodded, staring at the screen.
"I remember waiting to ambush the Mantid's Third Fleet that was heading for Sol," Legion said conversationally, as if he wasn't speaking about one of the most famous wars of ancient history. "Hiding in the gravity shadow of a supermassive gas giant, inside the rings themselves."
He turned and gave N'Skrek a grin.
"An Armada of One," he said. "No chance for the Mantid to overwhelm my brain, to shut me down. Beyond a Hive Mind, a singular mind with a singular purpose."
"Sounds exciting," N'Skrek said, watching the windows and the holotank at the same time.
"Very boring. I played a lot of video games and card games," Legion said.
"Against yourself, even an MMO would be solitary and single player," N'Skrek said.
"Ruins PvP," Legion grinned.
"I'll bet," N'Skrek said.
"The Sacajawea of that time stood on the bridge with me. She had shown me where the Mantid would take the most casualties and where I would be killed quite often," Legion said. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and N'Skrek hid a frown at the fact he didn't recognize Lucky Strike as a brand he was familiar with.
"Does it hurt when you get killed?" N'Skrek asked as Legion lit two cigarettes, handing one to N'Skrek.
"Very much so," Legion said. "Took me a few hundred thousand deaths to get used to it. Now, it hurts, it's terrifying, but not much more than clipping my fingernails," he sighed. "It's all right. I've always been, in many ways, less than human."
"You seem, to my albeit limited experience, to be very human to me," N'Skrek said. He took a drag off the cigarette and almost started coughing. It was harsh, raw tobacco with no additives and the filter tasting heavily of asbestos.
The Fruit Flies were scattering, going to full stealth, blinking their ready icons.
"Thank you," Legion said. He exhaled smoke. "Like the smoke?"
N'Skrek nodded.
"Gift from the Dee. Not the Detainee Lady Lord of Hell," he said, staring at the holotank. "But The Dee. The flesh and blood one," he gave a rueful chuckle. "Evil never dies."
"Harsh," N'Skrek said.
The missile pods flashed ready and went to stealth.
"Like her," Legion smiled. He suddenly looked a bit sad. "I miss her. Miss my siblings, the other Biological Apostles," he said. He sighed. "Sacajawea makes me miss them all that much more."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Sometimes I miss the Digital Omnimessiah too."
"Ship is at silent running," came the soft voice.
N'Skrek stood there, smoking, with Legion standing next to him.
Behind them Mar-gite clusters were breaking up from a combination of the FOOF and the split second artificial singularities that exploded into existence inside their mass.
Perhaps I can't completely eliminate them, but I can knock out a measurable percentage since I don't have to worry about how it might affect a stellar system's gravity balance, he thought at one point.
Time slowly ticked by.
"How is she?" N'Skrek asked at one point.
"Recovering. I'm sitting with her. I had a medic look at her. Physically, she's fine," Legion said.
"She should be on anti-depressants and undergoing therapy. For us it's ancient history, for her the Glassing and the loss of her people, even her death, are recent events. She only died a short time ago," N'Skrek said.
"And you should be dancing for a comely matron and I should be somewhere helping someone correct genetic sequencing damage," Legion said. "Shoulda, coulda, woulda, didn't."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Wait, can you see that?" Legion suddenly asked, pointing at the window.
"What?" N'Skrek said.
"The stars. A faint red-shift," Legion said.
N'Skrek looked toward the scanning officer, who frowned and looked at his instruments.
"It's faint. And large," Legion said. He motioned with his hands, using the smart-glass interface to highlight the area. "Right there."
"Nothing, sir," the scan-tech said.
N'Skrek tapped his lapel. "All personnel, prepare for enemy engagement," he said.
His voice carried over the intercom.
"Akka-Berry," Legion said softly. "They use a form of Akka-Berry."
The chrome ships suddenly appeared, wavering slightly like a heat mirage before solidifying up. They appeared pebbled and dull, like unbuffed and unpolished chrome.
"OPEN FIRE!" N'Skrek roared. He knew it was unnecessary, that the computers would give the fire order.
But it seemed to carry more weight as the PA repeated it.
0-0-0-0-0
Legion got into the elevator, waiting a moment after the doors closed to touch the panel. He overrode the alarms, then stopped the elevator.
The shadows warped and a light fog filled the elevator car.
It cleared to reveal a short Terran woman, with black hair pulled behind her head in a long braid, a severe face, plump, overripe figure, and gunmetal gray eyes.
"Well?" Legion asked.
"She's a child," the woman spat.
"I know that," Legion said. "Can you help her?"
"No, I mean, she's literally a child. Physically. She's never grown up," the woman snarled.
"Our aging was halted due to what we were going to do. The last thing we needed was a temporal sheer to kill half of us via old age," Legion said.
"I know that, you multiplying idiot," the woman snapped. "But she should have been allowed to grow into an adult first."
"She chose to stay young," Legion shrugged.
"And her brain has the neural pathways of a child," the woman snapped. She dug out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter of enameled steel. "The human brain doesn't fully mature until it's in its mid-20's. That's why we sent 18 year olds off to die in a rice patty or on some god forsaken beach. You need people who think charging the machinegun is a good idea, and teenage boys are well known for their excellent risk-reward judgement."
Legion just shrugged.
"But her, she's a child. Sixteen at the most, probably later fifteen," the woman said. She pulled out a cigarette, held it between her even white teeth, and lit it. "She has the mind of a teenage girl, a people known for their excellent decision making ability and capability to process trauma."
Legion just nodded.
The woman put away the cigarettes without offering one to Legion. He saw the emblem on the lighter.
"US ARMY ATOMIC COMMAND" in red block letters.
"You know how I feel about child soldiers," the woman said.
"It was The Glassing," Legion just shrugged.
"It's always something," the woman snarled. "Doesn't change how I feel."
"Can you help her?" Legion asked. "You're closer to her than I am."
"You mean, I'm as much a primitive barbarian as she is," the woman said, suddenly smiling without any humor. "I am what I am and she is what she is. Primitive savages from a time of hardship, resource shortages, and social upheaval."
"I wouldn't be so rude as to put it that way," Legion said. He smiled back. "But, yes."
The woman stared at the brushed steel wall of the elevator for a long moment. "I won't alter her SUDS record."
"Of course not," Legion said.
After a moment she nodded. "I can't help her, but I know some people who may."
Legion looked down at her. "Who?"
The woman smiled and exhaled smoke that filled the elevator car.
Her teeth and eyes were still visible.
"You'll know them when I bring them," she said. The eyes blinked. "Keep me in the loop for what's going on here. I have a feeling that events back home are going to have my attention pretty soon."
"I will," Legion told the eyes as the smile vanished.
The eyes closed.
Legion could feel it when she was gone. The smoke slowly cleared, leaving him alone in the elevator.
0-0-0-0-0
"What is taking this elevator so long to get here?" Jaskel asked 8814.
--not know computer says is moving-- the greenie replied.
"Aw man, Gunny's going to have my ass."
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I see it here, I see it on tiktok, twitter and outright every other outlet possible; there is a lie being stipulated that it's only the "sweats" that don't like this new season. That the "competitive crowd" are once again the only ones "crying" and while I'm not going to make a comment on how the more competitive side are handling this I am going to say: I'm not a pro. I've never played more than one ranked match and I don't like it either.
I don't, sorry, I'm not enjoying being insta gibbed because I didn't get a car in time. I don't find every single match being reduced to who got the boss car with the 50cal turret gets to win, remotely fun. Sure it's good old goofy, manic chaos in the early stages absolutely but to sweep any and all criticism under the rug as just "oh the sweats are upset" doesn't help the conversation and it's also just wrong.
1) Other people, like myself, aren't a massive fan of it (and it's ok to like or dislike the season, thats why these conversations happen.) 2) Why are people so desperate and quick to shut down this conversation in the first place??
3) The "sweats" are IN THE CARS TOO 4) I've seen more randoms coming together and squading up in a solo's match than ever before, some can't help it but some know what they're doing. 5) Low player count compared with other seasons kind of speaks for itself.
Look, I personally think some major changes need to be made in this once gun focused BR and I'll always be happy to have that conversation but I'm getting really, really tired of this blanket statement that only "the competitive players can't have fun" going around because thats just an outright lie.

Irritating and petty neighbors
(23 M) I live at Vanasthali colony ( Dhanbad, Jharkhand) near bhophor mandir at chanakya nagar. I have a family of 4 , Ma , papa and Bhaiya. Not disclosing the flat name as for security purpose, We relocated here during covid period in 2020, the locality and people are decent, sometimes they are too much religious and friendly also. Long story short everything is perfect except a particular person named Sachin, he lives only with his wife as per my knowledge. This duo of scumbags have been continuosly poking and causing problems for us. At first it was because of a parking issue which we settled down and compromised as we don't wanna fight to them directly. Me and my elder brother both are extremely hot headed and bulky in nature but at the same time we have our ma and papa in their 50s and we don't wanna cause any trouble for them in long run. The parking issue was followed by continuous garbage throwing near our balcony which created a smelly dump and was not tolerable at all. We complained to the builder and caretaker which solved this issues till some extent. But now after so many weeks he started throwing burnt cigarette buds at our balcony from the parking area. He is the type of petty and lichar person who keys at your car randomly just because of an argument. I need to know what type of legal action I could take on him which will not be a hassle for our parents but also solve the issue of constant misbehavior. The lit buds he threw yesterday and day before yesterday were on our back side of balcony were we use to keep small gas and stove for non veg. We could close the Sliding windows to avoid this but we have an ac duct outlet connected to it which could overheat and trap hot air during summer times... Please I need some kind of idea or legal step to stop all these for once and for all. He(Sachin) is a scrony and drwafy bastard who I could literally send flying with a single slap(punch not worth it ) and still is a nuisance to us just because we have kind quiet and humble parents.