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Huge thanks to WaveOfWire for not being afraid to thrash my poor writing into something legible.
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They were fools. They were out of options. They were trapped.
Three of the fearsome beasts the size of herself had flanked routed them into a cave opening, leaving only two options once inside; they could traverse a dark and uncertain abyss, or challenge the toothy maws and goring tusks that prevented their egress.
A menacing shadow swallowed Shar’khee and Akula as they entered the unknown void in search of respite. Their feet tapped against the cavern’s cold damp floor with hesitant steps into the unknown.
The paladin’s strength did not seem to be enough in the face of such overwhelming odds. Her muscles ached with each movement, remnants of her successful hunt having lasting consequences. Heavy breaths heaved through her lungs, agitating bruises lining her already bandaged body. The backpack that was once weighed down with spears felt like air without them, and the majestic chest piece she wore with pride was now dented and battered, causing a tense snarl to form on her visage. That which dared to tarnish her star-sent’s gift deserved the cruelest of fates, but she was in no condition to deliver the punishment properly. She should not have listened to the water-worshiper’s idea.
If only the paladin had stood her ground and fought instead of protecting Akula when the smaller female made to retreat, they might have been given the mobility to strategically strike back… or escape, if all else failed. But no, Shar’khee had ineptly went along with the foolish plan, taking backstep after backstep to cover for the fisherwoman’s reloading—an action that only managed to chip the armored shells of the creatures time and time again, leading them to their ultimate fate of hurried evasion.
It was folly to ignore Harrison’s wise words; the benefit of overpreparing far outweighed the encumbrance of excess equipment. Her massive shield would have been an excellent asset to have, yet she had little need during the logging operation, and thus thought it reasonable to leave behind. Each ache, pain, and fresh wound proved such complacency was horribly incorrect.
Loud thunks shook the ground as they were forced further and further into the cavern. The once charging steps of the creatures had slowed into a menacing stomp, the beasts knowing their hunt was reaching its conclusion. The rocky tunnel only had the width to support one of the creatures, though that hardly hindered them as she trudged into the dark after her ally, shells scraping against the walls and ceiling as the beasts steadily neared. She thought them safe when most of the foul things halted and brayed their anger, yet one persisted.
Akula kept running, fumbling while slotting another projectile into her gifted weapon, leaving Shar’khee to bide the time they needed. She skidded to a stop and faced the beast. Her spears were thrusted forward, only to ricochet uselessly off thick carapace in the attempt to delay its unwavering approach, forcing her to reluctantly reverse into the tenebrous tunnel. Her roars of defiance and frustration resounded throughout the cavity as she gained distance, only the floor beneath her feet and the creature’s quickly darkening silhouette allowing any frame of reference.
She just needed something to happen, something to open a moment for her to do damage. But nothing allowed her such a chance. She would get a hold on the creature’s tusks to wrangle it, and then be thrown off, her waning strength failing to suffice. Each time the abhorrent opened its mouth, the two Malkrin took the opportunity to throw all they had at it to little effect, only seeming to anger the monster more.
A short whistle ripped through the air when they had paused to fend off the advances once more, cracking against the shell of the beast in return. Another poorly placed shot.
“That was the last bolt!” Akula called out from behind her. Shar’khee growled back, not daring to take her eyes off the animal in front of her.
“Then grab your lighting implem—t and make yourself useful! Ensure there is no d—d end!”
A hesitant moment crawled by, the sound of shuffling equipment rising above the steady steps of the abhorrent and her own heavy breaths. Reflections of light and shadow breached the darkness from the fisherwoman’s tool, exposing brief glimpses of the creature’s open gnarled maw, its sickeningly yellow saliva dripping onto the ground in filthy globules.
The illumination flashed away as the light was turned the other direction, only dim forms remaining inside her sight without its presence. The vision of the beast still stained her eyes, and she acted upon it, lunging forward to hurl a disposable spear into the open mouth. A howl in the dark signified her throw landed true, but its continued stomps told her it was but an injury—progress, though now the abhorrent was increasing its pace, an enraged huff spilling forward.
Goddess, help her.
No volume of pointed spears stopped its encroachment, each of her attempts failing to find any purchase within the creature’s defenses. Should she try to hold her ground and push against its tusks again? No, that was reckless. She didn’t have Harrison’s magic to stop or dissuade the beast this time…
Akula broke through her thoughts with words plastered in horror, luminance returning to the approaching wall of carapace. “I-It’s a dead end! It narrows into a small hole!”
The paladin hit the back of her head on a rocky stalactite during her regressing standoff, stumbling into the unexpected hindrance. Only then did she learn how true the fisherwoman’s words were. “L—k harder! There must be a way out!”
Goddess, help her. The echo of her own words bled false hope for some other recourse to appear.
Yet, none did. There were no alternate routes, nor was there any choice. They were trapped. She pushed back as far away as she could, pressing into both Akula and the wall as the ceiling bore down upon her in claustrophobic increments.
She ripped another spear out of its bag on her back, bending her knees further and holding her free hands wide, ready to grapple the abhorrent with all of her remaining strength and tear off whatever she could get her talons on. There was no other option. This was—
Two booms thundered within the stone confinement, followed by a primal yell and the delayed scraping screech of the creature bellowing out in pain.
“FUCK YOU!”
Harrison?!
More deafening explosions ripped and tore throughout the cave, alongside more enraged stomps and vicious growls. A shiver ran down her spine. What was he doing here? He was in danger. No… No, she would not allow him to risk himself like this. Not while he was out of her reach.
An anguished shout broke out from the increasingly overwhelming din. He was in Pain. He was hurt. Her talons twitched in the open air, spear clenched agonizingly tight, the cracking wooden splitters digging into her hands. Bared teeth formed into a snarl.
She glared daggers into the living barrier that separated them. That kept her from her star-sent. How could she let a mere animal prevent her—a paladin of the Sky Goddess and the protector of her chosen—from her trial? The Goddess bestowed upon her one task, and with her benevolence as witness, it shall be done.
“I t-think the star-sent is out there. W-What shall we do?” The fisherwoman’s question scratched at Shar’khee’s reeling mind. What to do? That was simple.
She crouched further, pouring untold strength into muscles that compressed like the might of the star-sent’s machines. Fury became her impetus, and the beast had already been selected as her outlet.
“I see… T-Then allow us to give no quarter,” Akula affirmed with shaky confidence, stepping up beside the paladin.
There would be nothing left to offer mercy.
\= = = = =
This was a horrible idea. Probably one of the worst ideas he’d come up with to date, but it was necessary. His companions were in the cave with those colossi, and they didn’t have anything they needed to get past the armor. Something had to be done.
He had run as fast as he could with his equipment, directing himself with the ever-nearing roars and shouts. Three colossi surrounded the aliens around a cave, but only one turned to engage him after the other two entered, resulting in a short, painful joust that left him to face the beast alone.
The monster stared back at him without eyes, blood dripping from a missing chunk of its maw. A huff emanated through the forest as its leg scratched at the ground, ready to charge again.
His shoulder throbbed with pain; each flex and strain on his arm burned, fighting his every action. It shook and trembled as he moved to grab the flare from his backpack, but he still managed by gritting his teeth through the motions. The plastic tip of his procured implement popped off with a firm strike against his thigh, his other hand ready to set it off at a moment's notice.
Dry breaths left his shaking jaw, his legs tensed in anticipation for the creature’s next move. It didn’t take long.
The massive beast roared, stampeding forward with thundering stomps that shook the ground. Harrison reacted. Heat threatened to scorch his hand, then was immediately replaced by the familiar sweat-stained grip of his shotgun, his shoulder protesting the force of the throw. A red glare flew across his vision, billows of smoke tracing its trajectory. This was it. Between the unsteady flame’s blaze, he saw it—an open maw poised to snap at the distraction.
There was no time to aim, only the split-second hope of a hip-fired round finding its target. The trigger clicked twice in rapid succession as his finger wrenched it back, the recoil crashing the stock into his shoulder painfully. He sidestepped as soon as the blinding flash consumed his vision. It didn’t matter if it was dead or not, the beast was careening toward him with too much inertia.
Wind whipped around him as the charging bug passed, his head turning to see dry dust and dirt spray into the forest, steadily petering out to reveal… the silhouette of a collapsed colossus. Its legs laid out behind itself, serving as evidence that it died well before friction could do its job.
He wanted to go over and poke it to test if it really was dead, if not just unload more shells to make sure, but there wasn’t time nor need for that. His unsteady legs carried him back to the cave entrance, another creature blocking the tunnel with its massive frame deep within. It faced the other way, revealing an unprotected backside.
Unfortunately, it seemed to notice him as well, gouging stone as it backed up and got its jagged armor caught on the rocky confines. Repeated yanks and twists of its abdomen only seemed to worsen its position. Not so unfortunate, then.
He capitalized on its immobility, a wavering hand sliding two more rounds into the breach of his firearm before slamming it closed and steadying his aim. Both booms hammered his eardrums, followed by a low-pitched squeal of agony from the monster trying ever harder to break free of its stone trap.
Two more rounds. Two more shots.
Puncturing. Cracking. Drilling. Ripping. Sundering.
His damaged arm refilled the barrels once more… twice more… He lost count after that. His limb became more and more unstable in its maneuvers to and from his bandolier, but practiced motions ensured there were always two shells in the gun. The Malkrin were in there. She was in there.
Green ichor dripped and splattered the ground. Organs and shell fragments piled up. Screeches and wails echoed through the grotto.
Each volley carved a larger hole through the beast until it became its own Goddamn passageway to the other side. The carapace was still jammed up in the rocks, leaving only a husk and piled organs in the tunnel. It was dead… long dead by now. He let his arm slack by his side as he stared into the now very much unmoving blockage. Ah, fuck. How would he get through now? No way he was dragging it out.
A spine-chilling roar echoed from further in the cave, coming from a damn pissed Sharky. She was in trouble. No, he was right there, just out of reach. He had to get to her.
There was no other option. He swallowed his apprehension like smooth whiskey and pushed forward, crouching beneath the chitinous armor and pulling himself through the cold flesh. Hanging organs painted his skin green with blood. Wet textures tried to prevent his progress, but he ignored them, grabbing what he could of the flesh and pulling himself through. His torso squeezed between the sundered flesh of the filthy beast with one final shot of exertion. His flashlight clicked on to reveal a second limp beast further down, blood pooling around its splayed legs. A few bullet holes littered its back from over-penetration. That sure as hell wasn’t enough to kill it, yet the creature was just as dead as the last two…
A harsh growl hissed out from in front of the second monster, visceral slashes and wet-sounding cuts emanating from the same direction. The limp creature rocked and shifted with each noise, globs of blood flinging to the ceiling and walls. Christ, was that Sharky?
“S-Shar?” he called out softly, his heavy breaths nearly overtaking his callout.
“Harrison!?” the paladin returned, reassuring his worries.
He yelled out louder. “Are you alright back there? I, uh… took care of the colossi out here. Im guessing you were able to take care of the last one? Is Akula there? Is she okay?”
“We a— quite fine, and have slaughtered this one, yes. What of yourself? Are you hurt?”
“Just a small bump with one of the charging monsters. Nothing too serious… I think?” He looked down at his arm, testing a few movements and wincing.
A few more cutting noises echoed through the cavern, the armored bug collapsing in on itself as familiar hands pushed the hardened shells down upon liquified organs, revealing a bloodied, snarling face that quickly warmed up into a bright smile.
“Shar!”
The alien bolted downward upon eye contact, pulling him into a gore splattered embrace. “I am so, so v—y sorry.”
He coughed out his response, patting her shoulder to be let down while trying his hardest not to get crushed. “Don’t… be sorry. I’m happy… you’re… okay.”
The paladin let him go, abashedly looking away before returning her focus to check him over. “No, it is my own fault y— were hurt. Are you alright? Wh—e are you damaged? ”
His lips curled into a frown, his sapped voice trying to calm her. “No, I’m fine, and It’ll just be a bruise. Now, don’t say that kinda thing. Nothing’s your fault here, I was just pretty damn worried there.”
“I… I suppose. I am ever grateful f— your assistance. It appears you have—” She pointed her flashlight around the cave, focusing on the decimated colossus behind him. “—Thoroughly bested the abh—rent.”
“Yeah…” He coughed lightly, shining his own implement around. “It’s an odd spot you found yourself in here. How did you even end up in this cave?”
She looked back towards the fisherwoman, who was just then crawling over the carcass. “A few… mistakes…”
“I see…” His head nodded wearily, not wishing to press the issue any further, taking his own advice and just being content that everyone made it out alright.
The two aliens began to assess their own injuries, leaving his gaze to linger around the area. The surrounding cave dazzled in his flashlight’s rays, small reflective surfaces brightly mirroring it like stars. Not all of this was just stone, as he assumed. It was some raw ore. Of what kind, he didn’t know, but it was certainly some sort of metal… and that intrigued him. He eyed a weak looking outcrop of the stuff, pulling out his entrenchment tool to take a small piece back for appraisal. The engineer didn’t know much in the way of mining or geology, but that was a small hurdle in the face of the modules designed to simplify that part of pioneering. Plus, this cavern wasn’t that far away from the workshop, so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to come back here and check it out in the future.
Two clicks took him out of his thinking, Akula waving her hand for his attention. She didn’t look too worse for wear; a few small scrapes littered her arms, looking more like the effects of nasty cuts from branches rather than any run-in with the beasts.
“What’s up?” He postponed his metal extraction for a moment.
“We… found another Malkrin whilst we were harvesting lumber, Harrison.”
“...What?”
She responded immediately, more nervous with her repeated statement. “We found… another Malkrin.”
His questions poured out immediately, all of his built-up curiosities about the abandoned camp finding an outlet. “Another Malkrin? What were they like? Were you able to talk to them? How close were they to the barracks? Did they look dangerous? Do you think they know about us? Could they be from the camp Shar and I found earlier?”
“P-Please, Harrison. Slow down. I do not believe him to be much of a threat. I—”
“—He was try—g to sneak up on us. The craftsman could have at—mpted to harm Harrison.” Sharky interrupted through her inspection of her armor.
“That is untrue. The male looked to be scared, and perhaps in need of assistance. The open woodland is no place for the fairer sex,” Akula explained.
‘The male,’ ‘craftsman,’ ‘fairer sex,’ and ‘sneaking…’ The pieces already added up in his mind, the apparent run-in with another of their kind having gone less than optimally.
“So, you guys scared off someone fucking around in the woods? Was it just the one?” he poked, his worries about the situation both increasing and decreasing after some answers came forth.
“I beli—e he alluded to there being at least one more out there,” the red-colored Malkrin responded, scraping off green blood from her spiked gauntlets.
Akula shook her head, crossing her arms. “We do not know that. The male’s words could have meant anything.”
“Silence yourself, water-worshi—r. We need not limit our preparations to account for a sin—lar male. It is best to as—me there may be others,” the paladin spat, glaring daggers at the offending alien.
It was clear he wouldn’t be getting any more solid information from his companions. All he knew now was that there was a sneaking Malkrin who may or may not have more friends. He sighed and scratched at the back of his head.
“I can’t really make sense of what the best option is, given how little we know, but I reckon it’d do us some good to either try and follow his trail or at least return to that abandoned camp we found yesterday. Maybe we’ll find some more clues. We didn’t really look too hard last time.”
Shar nodded in agreement. “I ag—e. It would be best to stay on the offensive, so to sp—k.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “Christ, Shar, you act like we’re at war. I’m as worried as you are about a stranger’s intentions, but I don’t want to do anything rash yet.”
“I believe t—t your protection takes precedence. That is all, Harrison. Forgive my foolhardin—s.”
“All good. I’m thankful, Shar. Anyway, let’s finish up here before we go out searching. I’ll see if we can’t fashion a sled or something to bring back some of the armor plates we’ve just so happened to stumble across.” His focus turned away after the two Malkrin agreed. He roughly brought the short shovel down, cracking off a piece of ore.
\= = = = =
“Dear! I have brought back the meat of an avian,” the craftsman touted with a forced smile as he approached the supine female.
Gray ashes were all that remained of the fire he had built by their makeshift shelter, his efforts to forage taking much too long, apparently. A poorly fired clay pot sat cracked and shattered nearby. Bunches of herbs sat astray beside wooden bowls, each of his attempts at remembering the healer’s tinctures failing to bear fruit. A few strips of cloth ripped from his own garments which had been doused in calming salves littered the ground, none of which were able to quell her shivering. The previously provided meals went half-eaten, the rest of it left in chunks of bile near the bedding of his mate. Their only water skin was in her hands, its content squeezed dry. That was okay by him. He would just get more.
She raised her head in weak, strained motions, her worsening condition betraying her mirthful words—the soft and comforting timbre a reminder of more pleasant times. “You have returned, my love. Are you in good health? You look pale.”
“I am indeed in swell condition. Have you eaten much since I have left?” he asked, keeping his voice light while steeling his emotions.
She looked away, a frown growing. “It is difficult to keep it down… Forgive me for wasting your hard work.”
His palm rested across her startlingly cold shoulder, the soft rubbing motions providing what little comfort he could for her. “Worry not, I shall gather as much as you need. Will you require more water? Are you cold? Allow me to start a fire for you.”
“T-Thank you, dear.” Shaking arms held her torso up with difficulty, the beautiful tunic he proposed with now sullied in dirt and bodily fluids. It still complimented her gorgeous black horns, pristinely curling around her frills like a glossy halo. She coughed dryly before motioning for him to continue.
His talons worked in a motion they had become all too used to, quickly lighting the tinder and stacked sticks. He looked up from his labor to meet her soft stare, her eyes hollowed out by the sickness, unable to fully concentrate on him. His heart fought back the gnawing dread. She would be fine as long as he kept her fed and warm. It will pass soon.
The licks of fire jumped up and around their home of wood, the warmth just barely enough to pierce the stale air. Hopefully, it was enough for them. He quickly cleaned the avian creature he caught, making sure to remove the bones for her before tossing the meat onto the fire.
“I apologize, the fire will have to be short this time,” he announced quietly, moving on to cutting some harvested mushrooms.
“Why would that be?”
“...We do not have enough wood to keep it stoked. I will get some later,” he reassured her quickly, satisfying his lover’s curiosity. It felt horrible to lie to her, even if it was a half-truth. She didn’t need to be any more worried than she already must have been.
Having a fire any larger or any longer than need be would only serve to alert those who cornered him. He couldn’t have that. Even worse, moving out from the camp was no longer an option afforded to them, her muscles were much too fatigued to traverse any farther than a stone’s throw, confining their situation further.
Like sitting amphibians, they were stuck in their neck of the woods, so any opportunity to keep their concealment was paramount. A flicker of doubt lied in her eyes, the burden of their situation resting on her mind clearly. It was swiftly dispelled when he looked over, giving her as light a smile as he could muster.
\= = = = =
Harrison felt like shit for not making a sled earlier. Poor Sharky was forced to carry those heavy ass logs back on her shoulders before—an entirely unnecessary process when dragging them across a coaster ended up being a lot easier on the spine and more efficient. Especially with the red grass’ neglect for the concept of friction. He assisted the Malkrin with harvesting the armored shell of the first colossus, escorting them back to the workshop without incident.
They assured him that the rest of the task was handled, so while the wood and carapace was being collected, he went about patching his bruises and printing out the smoker, piecing it together without issue. The fabricators mixed some organic components together to make a suitable fuel—and a lot of it. The first batch was placed in the new appliance and set to cook for twelve hours; the taste and texture mattered less if it meant the meat would be stable for a while longer.
His task was done a good bit before the others’, so he returned to the workshop and sat back down, musing what problems needed to be tackled. The belt-fed shotgun would have to come later—he hadn’t the patience to keep going at that right now. His was set on the issue the group was having currently: communication. It was a real pain in the ass to worry if the Malkrin were doing okay while the group was separated.
Radio communications were out of the ideas pool, first and foremost. Even if the fabricators had a better idea of how to make electronics more complicated than a flashlight, the aliens couldn’t speak whatsoever. Maybe he could have taught them how to make specific noises for danger or assistance via walkie-talkie, but he didn’t want to bother with that when there was a simpler option that solved both problems.
Each module had several interfaces. Each of said interface communicated with the building via short-range communications—which could extend a few miles, despite the name. Those components were pretty small and universal, meaning they transmit a signal from anything. A little bit of tape, a single transmission unit, a button, and a small speaker set to beep were slapped together, making a serviceable communication device. Sure, it wouldn’t be able to share anything more complicated than Morse code, but there were literally no other options until the Malkrin learned how to write or verbally communicate. That didn’t mean it would be useless, no. One press of the button would indicate you wanted assistance, two meant you got the message, and three or more meant it was urgent—much more if the presses were constant.
Creating them hardly took any time, harvesting the small components taking up a majority of the labor. He ended up spending a little bit longer printing out small housings for the electronics to make them more durable, adding a clip on the back of them to attach to any article of clothing or piece of equipment.
Alright, that’s done and dusted. Getting something done in one fell swoop without issues felt amazing in comparison to his previous ventures. Now what? What else was there to do?
The dull throbbing in his arm flared up, reminding him of another problem. There were glaring issues in his defensive plan for both the modules and himself. He needed some good armor and a solid solution for the colossi. The former option was tackled first, hopefully only requiring a short scroll through the blueprint folders and some thought.
The engineer got to work delving into the computer once more, sitting back down on the same chair. Common military garb was out of the question since its whole purpose was to dissipate energy rather than block any blunt force or ripping damage that he needed to deal with. Plus, it had a lot of electronic components built in which would make the fabricators cry without another AI core or two. So, what was built to protect against piercing bites and blunt damage at the same time? Well… most conventional armor did. Still, he needed something to fit the criteria better than just slabs of metal strapped to his body.
But that soon became the issue as the best option might as well have been strapping slabs of steel to himself. There were anti-stab vests, which were entirely too weak for the bugs, anti-ordinance suits that were much too inflexible for his needs, and actual medieval knight armor which he found in a blueprint section dedicated to furniture of all things—maybe it was only meant for decoration? Why it was within the downloads, he didn’t know.
Something that caught his eye was an all-purpose hazard engineering suit; it was armored enough to survive getting run over by a hover tank, filled with enough utilities to protect the user from every kind of war crime, and light enough to actually ‘run’ with. That specific type was designed for those working outside livable spaces or within some particularly hostile environments for an extended period of time, so all the over-the-top parts made sense. The limbs even had its own myomer fibers to assist with movement and strength… which became the ultimate undoing for the promising gear. It needed those synthetic muscles to function, and the fabricators couldn’t just make those with the equipment he had; a long series of industrial and biological machines were required for something that… unique. That would be a hell of a project for the future, but the idea was tantalizing nonetheless.
Now, he was back to square one. Was strapping sheets of alloy to himself really the only option? No, there was that odd module-sync folder. Maybe there were some… normal, human-sized things within the downloaded files?
There were, in fact, many normal things to be found. A solid section of it was dedicated to ‘guardsman,’ which had serviceable armors that weren’t completely overblown in proportions or detail like the rest of the items. A thick slab of ceramics made up the chest piece, with excess armor over the pecs, and a small golden eagle symbol covering the area. The shoulder pads were pretty similar in construction, keeping the same green color and sturdiness. Other armors caught his eye, but were either much more or much less armored than he needed. One was literally just a red bandana and rig, while another was a full great coat and trench gas mask setup—neither of which interested him greatly for fighting hordes of bugs in.
Yeah, the ‘guardsman’ setup was much more ideal, so it was set to print. The helmet looked pretty uncomfortable, but he would be happy to switch it out when he was able to fabricate something a little more useful. Serviceable beats nothing, after all.
Now onto the next problem: the armored creatures that seemed to ignore just about any kind of damage. All of his ideas included some gross overkill that was either too dangerous for himself to try and construct or outright banned by the fabricator. Kinetics like fifty BMG rounds might’ve worked against the shells, but he already had another toy to play with—the engineering equipment.
Specifically, the pressurized carbon dioxide injector weighed on his mind as a suitable option. It was the ideal ‘tool’ for the job as it was intended for separating neigh any organic structure open. There were two variants, each differing in size and purpose. One was intended for precise medical procedures, while the other was a cumbersome and destructive implement dedicated for a task much bigger than cutting bones—take entire redwood trees, for example. It’s pretty obvious which type the engineer printed out the other day.
The hand-held everything-separator had a few problems, however. First and foremost: the danger it proposed. There were stake-like bolts intended to puncture anything short of a bunker and insert pressurized gas to… yeah, decimate what was inside until it was outside. The real issue came with the force to shoot them out, which created a disruptive force around a few vents near the back. Normally, the tool would be used in near-melee range by an automated machine, but the rounds themselves could be used further away which worked in his favor, because no person should be handling it manually.
And in came the turret idea he had previously. It was a brilliant idea, getting around the issue of manual operation, relying on a computer instead. How would it be automated then? Not all the parts were printable—the sensory and computative components specifically. Where could he get those? How would he even program them?
Wait… Maybe the turret wouldn’t need his input for the optical unit at all. There was sensory equipment nearby that could do that already. He wasn’t using the barrack’s sensors much anyway, was he? It certainly knew how to differentiate a two-legged person from a bug. Just take that information, transfer it to the weapon’s motor, and tell it what to aim at, simple as can be.
Then what about the other electrical components that couldn’t be fabricated just yet? Well, there just so happened to be a completely bricked machine that couldn’t operate anymore, which was chock-full of computer parts—motors and various parts included. Hell, he could also recycle the metal housing for more material…
Oh yeah, it was all coming together nicely, all that was needed was some thinking and some elbow grease. However, It would be nice to have another technician or engineer to help him out with the crafting and scrapping process. No offense to the Malkrin, but he needed someone with hands shorter than a foot. Someone with enough technical knowledge to assist in the thinking department, because Goddamn did he need another brain cell to bounce his ideas off of with these kinds of things.
His musings were ripped away by a grating noise from the cargo bay. He turned around in the chair, picking up his shotgun, only to be greeted by the two aliens walking into the workshop at the far end, stacks of armored shells weighing down their sled. Taps against the floor echoed throughout the room as he approached the Malkrin, greeting them with a quick wave.
“Hey, I take it the harvesting went well?”
“It did indeed, Harri—n. I feel I have become quite proficient in collect—g the carapaces,” Sharky responded happily with a swaying tail.
“Truly! The length of the process was reduced immensely by the time we started upon the final beast. I must thank you for the fine blade you provided, star-sent,” Akula chimed in with some enthusiasm, the paladin rolling her eyes at the fisherwoman’s interjection.
He nodded. “Of course, I’m happy it worked well for you. So, are you two still good to track down that other Malkrin? We can sit down, eat, and relax for a bit first if you want.”
“I w—ld appreciate it.” “That sounds good to me.” the two aliens said in unison, giving each other a curious look afterward.
\= = = = =
Tracy leaned forward to get a better look on the monitor, her criss-crossed legs fitting snugly atop the blanket-padded chair. Her tongue pushed the lollipop she held in her mouth around, her eyes transfixed on a single screen in an array of darkened displays laid out in an even blacker room. Her fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the desk absently to burn off excess energy. Primarily eating candy and carbohydrate rich paste would do that to you. Why there was a box full of candy cigarettes and lollipops in the cargo bay was lost on her; it was most likely some grade-A graft on the part of the colony overseers at this point. Whatever, the bored technician was happy to eat something with actual flavor before she was forced to cry just to taste something salty.
An odd picture came up on the monitor, stealing away her deathly bored focus.
“No way…” she whispered out loud, the piece of candy in her mouth falling right out. She could hardly make sense of it at first, but… no… What was it? Was that? It had two legs and… well there wasn’t enough time to get a good look otherwise before the screen went black.
This time there wasn’t any red ‘lost connection’ text. To her absolute amazement, it read ‘target found, diverting processes to follow mode.’ It was another pioneer then… She never thought she would see the day…
“LETS FUCKING GO!” she screamed, the outburst echoing throughout the module for a second after, the jerking movement causing her chair to fall over.
The bump on her head meant nothing in comparison to it all. The others were actually found! After all this time! If it weren’t for the recent use of her folder, she would have assumed it was only her left, so she had glared into the feed of the very last car with strained hope to be rewarded handsomely.
No more remote-control car forging, no more being stuck in a dark, damp cargo bay, and someone else to talk to for once. Even someone like her could feel a little isolated with no one else around… She needed to finish her preparations and set out immediately. She had already toiled endlessly over the drones and equipment, and now it was going to be put to good use. All she had was a direction and a damn long road to follow, so each aspect of her creations needed to be in tip-top shape.
It was going to be a big step to leave the safety of her hovel, needing every bit of self-built assurances to make the journey bearable, but she had to do it. Making the choice to leave would be infinitely more important of a decision than she would have ever thought.
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - No, I don't have a medical degree

I've heard of PECS but can't find any good printable ones, I'm not gonna buy any and can't ask my parents - they'll probably say no anyway. Any other ways I can communicate? Especially for school as I obviously can't text anyone at school so. . .

I know there are a lot of posts about potty training, but I’m not finding exactly what I’m looking for. My 2.5 year old has a severe speech delay that he sees a speech therapist for every other week. We’re seeing a lot of progress but it’s slow going. He’s showing signs of being ready to potty train and it would greatly benefit our daycare situation if he would potty train by February. The biggest problem is that he is unable to tell us when he needs to go. Currently if he wants his diaper changed, he stands at the baby gate and yells. I purchased PECS (Picture Exchange Communication System) printables, which honestly I should have done a long time ago, so he can point and show us he needs the bathroom. He isn’t big on using sign language. Does anyone else have advice on how to help him communicate and potty train?

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if (SPIFFS.begin(true)) { File file = SPIFFS.open("/base64Img.jpg", FILE_WRITE); file.print(base64Img); file.close(); file = SPIFFS.open("/msg.html", FILE_WRITE); file.print(html); file.close(); } else { Serial.println("SPIFFS Monting Failed"); } /** Enable the debug via Serial port * none debug or 0 * basic debug or 1 * * Debug port can be changed via ESP_MAIL_DEFAULT_DEBUG_PORT in ESP_Mail_FS.h */ smtp.debug(1); /* Set the callback function to get the sending results */ smtp.callback(smtpCallback); /* Declare the session config data */ ESP_Mail_Session session; /* Set the session config */ session.server.host_name = SMTP_HOST; session.server.port = SMTP_PORT; session.login.email = AUTHOR_EMAIL; session.login.password = AUTHOR_PASSWORD; session.login.user_domain = "mydomain.net"; /* Declare the message class */ SMTP_Message message; /* Enable the chunked data transfer with pipelining for large message if server supported */ message.enable.chunking = true; /* Set the message headers */ message.sender.name = "ESP Security Camera "; message.sender.email = AUTHOR_EMAIL; message.subject = "ESP Security Camera Event Captures"; message.addRecipient("recipient", "test@gmail.com"); /* Assign blob data (in flash or ram) as HTML message */ message.html.blob.data = (const uint8_t *)html; message.html.blob.size = strlen(html); //Or get the content from file //message.html.file.name = "/msg.html"; //message.html.file.type = esp_mail_file_storage_type_flash; /** The content transfer encoding e.g. * enc_7bit or "7bit" (not encoded) * enc_qp or "quoted-printable" (encoded) <- not supported for message from blob and file * enc_base64 or "base64" (encoded) * enc_binary or "binary" (not encoded) * enc_8bit or "8bit" (not encoded) * The default value is "7bit" */ message.html.transfer_encoding = Content_Transfer_Encoding::enc_7bit; message.html.charSet = "utf-8"; // preview text message.text.content = "blah blah blah...this is preview text without inline images"; message.text.charSet = "utf-8"; message.text.transfer_encoding = Content_Transfer_Encoding::enc_base64; /* Set the custom message header */ // message.addHeader("Message-ID: "); /* The attachment data item */ SMTP_Attachment att; // Set the inline image info e.g. file name, MIME type, file path, file storage type, transfer encoding and content encoding att.descr.filename = "/base64Img.jpg"; att.descr.mime = "image/jpg"; att.file.path = "/base64Img.jpg"; /** The file storage type e.g. * esp_mail_file_storage_type_none, * esp_mail_file_storage_type_flash, and * esp_mail_file_storage_type_sd */ att.file.storage_type = esp_mail_file_storage_type_flash; att.descr.content_id = "image-001"; //The content id (cid) of image in the src tag /* Need to be base64 transfer encoding for inline image */ att.descr.transfer_encoding = Content_Transfer_Encoding::enc_base64; /** The attach image file is already base64 encoded file. * Then set the content encoding to match the transfer encoding * which no encoding was taken place prior to sending. */ att.descr.content_encoding = Content_Transfer_Encoding::enc_base64; /* Add inline image to the message */ message.addInlineImage(att); /* Connect to server with the session config */ if (!smtp.connect(&session)) return; /* Start sending the Email and close the session */ if (!MailClient.sendMail(&smtp, &message, true)) Serial.println("Error sending Email, " + smtp.errorReason()); //to clear sending result log //smtp.sendingResult.clear(); ESP_MAIL_PRINTF("Free Heap: %d\n", MailClient.getFreeHeap()); 

Mounting SPIFFS... Connecting to SMTP server... > C: ESP Mail Client v1.5.3 > C: connect to SMTP server > C: host > smtp.gmail.com > C: port > 587 > C: starting socket > C: connecting to Server > C: smtp server connected SMTP server connected, wait for greeting... < S: 220 smtp.gmail.com ESMTP b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp Sending greeting response... > C: send smtp command, HELO < S: 250-smtp.gmail.com at your service, [92.17.208.90] < S: 250-SIZE 35882577 < S: 250-8BITMIME < S: 250-STARTTLS < S: 250-ENHANCEDSTATUSCODES < S: 250-PIPELINING < S: 250-CHUNKING < S: 250 SMTPUTF8 Send command, STARTTLS > C: send STARTTLS command < S: 220 2.0.0 Ready to start TLS > C: performing the SSL/TLS handshake > C: seeding the random number generator > C: setting up the SSL/TLS structure ! W: Skipping SSL Verification. INSECURE! > C: setting hostname for TLS session > C: performing the SSL/TLS handshake > C: verifying peer X.509 certificate Sending greeting response... > C: send smtp command, HELO < S: 250-smtp.gmail.com at your service, [92.17.208.90] < S: 250-SIZE 35882577 < S: 250-8BITMIME < S: 250-AUTH LOGIN PLAIN XOAUTH2 PLAIN-CLIENTTOKEN OAUTHBEARER XOAUTH < S: 250-ENHANCEDSTATUSCODES < S: 250-PIPELINING < S: 250-CHUNKING < S: 250 SMTPUTF8 Logging in... > C: send smtp command, AUTH PLAIN > C: *************@gmail.com > C: *************@gmail.com *********** < S: 235 2.7.0 Accepted Sending Email... > C: send Email Sending message header... > C: send message header < S: 250 2.1.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp < S: 250 2.1.5 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp Sending message body... > C: send message body Sending inline data... > C: send inline data upload flash content message, 100% /base64Img.jpg > C: /base64Img.jpg upload /base64Img.jpg, 0% upload /base64Img.jpg, 100% Finishing the message sending... > C: Finish the message sending < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp Closing the session... > C: terminate the SMTP session < S: 250 2.0.0 OK b62sm8725166wmb.16 - gsmtp Message sent successfully > C: Message sent successfully ---------------- Message sent success: 1 Message sent failled: 0 ---------------- Message No: 1 Status: success Date/Time: 2022/1/23 0:55:27 Recipient: *************@gmail.com Subject: ESP Security Camera Event Captures ---------------- > C: cleaning SSL connection Free Heap: 222352 

556: The diameter bullets in millimeters used by US forces in rifles and light machine guns a.k.a. NATO rounds.
Assassin: Radio call sign for first recon's Alpha company; assassin actual is Alpha company's commander Capt. Patterson.
AO: Area of operation
AOE: Area of engagement
Ass: Traveling in the company of heavy units like tanks, cobras ect
BDA: Battle Damage Assessment
Cas Evac: Casualty Evacuation
Chaos: radio call sign for General Mattis
Corpsman: Enlisted member of a military medical unit.
Cleared hot: Given permission to fire your weapon by a superior.
Danger Close: Friendly units are within 600 meters of a proposed artillery target.
Fire mission: Artillery mission
Forty Mike-Mike: 40 millimeters; refers to either an individual 40mm self-propelled grenade round or the weapon that launches them, such as the M-19.
Glassed: Observed target with binoculars or rifle scope.
Godfather: Call sign of Lieut. Col. Ferrando as well as his battalion in part due to the sound of his voice. NOTE: Godfather often speaks of himself in the third person; instead of saying "I think" he will say "Godfather thinks"
Haji: Slang for an Iraqi
H&S: The headquarters and supply company responsible for supporting "line companies" or combat units made up of Alpha, bravo and Charlie companies.
Helo-hot: Missile fired from a combat helicopter such as an Cobra.
Hitman Two One Actual: Bravo company’s second platoon team one leader, Sgt. Colbert. While "Hitman Two One” refers to the entire team, "Actual" means the actual commander. "Hitman two" refers to all of bravo second platoon, but “Hitman Two Actual" is the platoon commander, Lieut. Fick.
Hitman Victor: Any vehicle and bravo company.
Interrogative: Radio code prefacing a question
LAV: Light Armored Vehicle
LOD: Line Of Departure
Klicks: Kilometers
Mikes: Minutes
MSR: Main Supply Route
NJP: Non-Judicial Punishment ie discipline
NVG: Night Vision Goggles
Oscar Mike: On the move
Pec-fours, Pec-thirteens: Night and infrared vision scopes.
POG: Person Other than Grunt
PX: post-exchange store
Raptor: Radio call sign for First Recon’s Charlie Company
ROE: Rules of Engagement, rules for engaging civilian targets
RTB: Return to Base
RCT1: Regimental Combat Team 1
Shamal: Hellacious wind and dust storms endemic to Iraq.
Sit-Rep: Situation report, basically the status on mission or area.
SOP: Standard Operating Procedure
Stay frosty: Staying sharp, or attentive to the situation
T72s: an Iraqi tank
Victors: Vehicles
Whiskey Tango: White Trash
Here is a printable version so you can have a hard copy: https://imgur.com/gallery/72TUbCX