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worldpharmatoday · 7 days ago

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Innovative Stem Cell Therapies: Transforming Regenerative Medicine and Patient Care

In recent years, stem cell therapy has emerged as a groundbreaking approach in regenerative medicine, offering patients innovative ways to support healing and recovery. A fundamental shift is occurring in healthcare—one that moves away from traditional, one-size-fits-all pharmaceutical solutions and toward personalized, biologically driven approaches. Physicians are now harnessing patients’ own stem cells to promote natural healing, offering a minimally invasive alternative to major surgical interventions.

At the forefront of this movement is Cell Surgical Network, a pioneering organization that emphasizes patient-driven regenerative medicine using a patient’s own cells. By leveraging autologous stem cell therapies, doctors are unlocking new possibilities for individuals seeking alternatives to conventional treatments.

The Power of Personal Stem Cell Therapy Unlike traditional pharmaceutical interventions, which rely on mass-produced solutions, personal stem cell therapy utilizes a patient’s own cells to promote healing. This represents a paradigm shift in medicine, aligning with the body’s natural regenerative mechanisms.

The process of isolating a patient’s stem cells is relatively straightforward and minimally invasive. Stem cells are typically harvested from adipose (fat) tissue through a minor outpatient procedure. Once extracted, these cells can be reintroduced into areas of the body where healing support is needed. Because the cells originate from the patient’s own body, concerns over rejection or adverse immune reactions are significantly reduced.

This biological and patient-specific approach to medicine is gaining traction across multiple fields, including orthopedics, neurology, cardiology, and longevity-focused medicine.

Why Patients Are Choosing Stem Cell Therapy The growing demand for minimally invasive medical solutions is driving the adoption of stem cell-based approaches. Patients are increasingly looking to avoid major surgical interventions and long recovery periods. Whether they are dealing with orthopedic challenges, neurological conditions, cardiovascular concerns, or are focused on longevity and performance, individuals are seeking options that align with how the body naturally repairs itself.

Traditional medicine often follows an “off-the-shelf” model, where patients receive standardized pharmaceutical treatments that may not address the root cause of their concerns. Stem cell therapy, by contrast, offers a highly personalized approach, working in harmony with the body’s own healing systems.

Key Areas Where Stem Cells Are Promoting Healing Stem cell therapy is being integrated into multiple areas of medicine to support the body’s natural ability to repair and regenerate tissue. Some of the most exciting applications include:

Orthopedics and Sports Medicine Patients experiencing joint discomfort, soft tissue injuries, or degenerative orthopedic conditions are turning to stem cell therapies as an alternative to surgery. Athletes and active individuals are leveraging regenerative medicine to support recovery and performance without long downtimes.

Neurology Researchers and clinicians are exploring how stem cells can be used to support neurological health and function. There is growing interest in regenerative strategies that focus on neuroplasticity and the body’s ability to maintain and repair nerve tissues.

Cardiology Personalized stem cell approaches are being studied for their potential to support cardiovascular health. The idea of using the body’s own cells to promote healing represents a major departure from traditional pharmaceutical-based interventions.

Longevity and Performance-Based Medicine The use of stem cells in age management and performance medicine is gaining attention as people seek to optimize their health and vitality. Regenerative techniques are being explored for their role in enhancing cellular function, recovery, and overall well-being. A Fundamental Shift in Medical Practice This patient-centered approach to regenerative medicine represents a fundamental shift in how healthcare is delivered. Rather than focusing solely on symptom management, stem cell therapy emphasizes healing as the primary outcome. This shift aligns with the way the body has been designed to heal naturally, making regenerative medicine one of the most exciting frontiers in modern healthcare.

For physicians, integrating stem cell-based protocols into their practice offers a cutting-edge, biologically consistent approach that complements traditional medical techniques. Networks like Cell Surgical Network are helping clinicians stay at the forefront of this medical revolution, providing education, research, and patient access to minimally invasive regenerative solutions.

Conclusion The move toward patient-specific regenerative medicine is transforming the pharmaceutical and medical industries. With an increasing emphasis on biological healing rather than symptom suppression, stem cell therapy is redefining the standard of care. Patients and physicians alike are recognizing the benefits of utilizing the body’s own regenerative capabilities, paving the way for a new era in medicine—one where healing takes precedence over intervention.

As demand for minimally invasive, patient-driven solutions continues to grow, stem cell therapy stands at the forefront of a revolution in personalized medicine—one that is reshaping how we think about health, recovery, and longevity.

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jcmarchi · 9 months ago

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Celebrating the people behind Kendall Square’s innovation ecosystem

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/celebrating-the-people-behind-kendall-squares-innovation-ecosystem/

Celebrating the people behind Kendall Square’s innovation ecosystem

While it’s easy to be amazed by the constant drumbeat of innovations coming from Kendall Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts, sometimes overlooked are the dedicated individuals working to make those scientific and technological breakthroughs a reality. Every day, people in the neighborhood tackle previously intractable problems and push the frontiers of their fields.

This year’s Kendall Square Association (KSA) Annual Meeting centered around celebrating the people behind the area’s prolific innovation ecosystem. That included a new slate of awards and recognitions for community members and a panel discussion featuring MIT President Sally Kornbluth.

“It’s truly inspiring to be surrounded by all of you: people who seem to share an exuberant curiosity, a pervasive ethic of service, and the baseline expectation that we’re all interested in impact — in making a difference for people and the planet,” Kornbluth said.

The gathering took place in MIT’s Walker Memorial (Building 50) on Memorial Drive and attracted entrepreneurs, life science workers, local students, restaurant and retail shop owners, and leaders of nonprofits.

The KSA itself is a nonprofit organization made up of over 150 organizations across the greater Kendall Square region, from large companies to universities like MIT and Harvard, along with the independent shops and restaurants that give Kendall Square its distinct character.

New to this year’s event were two Founder Awards, which were given to Sangeeta Bhatia, the the John and Dorothy Wilson Professor of Health Sciences and Technology and of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science at MIT, and Michal Preminger, head of Johnson and Johnson Innovation, for their work bringing people together to achieve hard things that benefit humanity.

The KSA will donate $2,500 to the Science Club for Girls in Bhatia’s honor and $2,500 to Innovators for Purpose in honor of Preminger.

Recognition was also given to Alex Cheung of the Cambridge Innovation Center and Shazia Mir of LabCentral for their work bringing Kendall Square’s community members together.

Cambridge Mayor Denise Simmons also spoke at the event, noting the vital role the Kendall Square community has played in things like Covid-19 vaccine development and in the fight against climate change.

“As many of you know, Cambridge has a long and proud history of innovation, with the presence of MIT and the remarkable growth of the tech and life science industry examples of that,” Simons said. “We are leaving a lasting, positive impact in our city. This community has made and continues to make enormous contributions, not just to our city but to the world.”

In her talk, Kornbluth also introduced the Kendall Square community to her plans for The Climate Project at MIT, which is designed to focus the Institute’s talent and resources to achieve real-world impact on climate change faster. The project will provide funding and catalyze partnerships around six climate “missions,” or broad areas where MIT researchers will seek to identify gaps in the global climate response that MIT can help fill.

“The Climate Project is a whole-of-MIT mobilization that’s mission driven, solution focused, and outward looking,” Kornbluth explained. “If you want to make progress, faster and at scale, that’s the way!”

After mingling with Kendall community members, Kornbluth said she still considers herself a newbie to the area but is coming to see the success of Kendall Square and MIT as more than a coincidence.

“The more time I spend here, the more I come to understand the incredible synergies between MIT and Kendall Square,” Kornbluth said. “We know, for example, that proximity is an essential ingredient in our collective and distinctive recipe for impact. That proximity, and the cross-fertilization that comes with it, helps us churn out new technologies and patents, found startups, and course-correct our work as we try to keep pace with the world’s challenges. We can’t do any of this separately. Our work together — all of us in this thriving, wildly entrepreneurial community — is what drives the success of our innovation ecosystem.”

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healthcarehubhh · 1 year ago

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Artificial Skin Market Poised to Grow at Highest Pace Owing to Rising Burn Injuries

The artificial skin market deals with products that act as a temporary or permanent synthetic skin replacement for burn victims or those suffering from skin diseases or disorders. Artificial skins contain live cells or are made from biocompatible materials that mimic natural skin's structure and functions. They offer barrier protection against infection and fluid loss while promoting wound healing. With rising burns and traumatic injuries worldwide, the demand for skin grafts and substitutes is expanding rapidly. The Global bioengineered artificial skin market is estimated to be valued at US$ 3.32 Billion in 2024 and is expected to exhibit a CAGR of 16% over the forecast period 2023 to 2030. Key Takeaways Key players operating in the bioengineered artificial skin market are Genoskin, Smith and Nephew Inc., Genzyme Biosurgery, Vericel Corporation, AROA BIOSURGERY LIMITED, Integra LifeSciences Corp, COOK BIOTECH, Mölnlycke Health Care AB, Avita Medical, MiMedx Group, Inc., and Organogenesis Holdings Inc. The global artificial skin market is driven by the rising incidence of burn injuries, especially in developing nations where industrial safety norms are still evolving. As per the World Health Organization (WHO), over 300,000 people die annually from burns worldwide. Moreover, the increasing application of artificial skins in wound care management and reconstruction surgeries is also fueling market revenue. Technological advancements focus on developing skin substitutes that resemble natural skin more closely. Researchers are working on creating multilayered, vascularized artificial skins with hair follicles, sweat glands, and seamless integration with the recipient's skin. Such next-gen artificial skins can help achieve superior cosmetic outcomes and quality of life for patients. Market Trends Some key trends in the artificial skin market include the development of bioprinted and 3D printed skin substitutes. Researchers are adopting advanced bioprinting methods to develop patient-specific skin substitutes by combining skin cells and biomaterials through 3D printing. This facilitates mass production of artificial skins with precise anatomical features. Another trend gaining traction is the incorporation of advanced therapies into artificial skins. For example, combining stem cell therapy and skin grafting/substitutes to accelerate wound healing. Such combination therapies may enable developing "smart skins" capable of tissue regeneration. Market Opportunities The growing demand for skin tissue engineering and regenerative therapies in underpenetrated regions presents significant opportunities for artificial skin market players. Expanding access to advanced wound care and burns management in rural healthcare systems also opens lucrative prospects. Customization capability is another opportunityarea. As artificial skins become more affordable, customizable options specific to wound type, location, and patient needs can augment the market potential.

#Bioengineered Artificial Skin Market Growth #Bioengineered Artificial Skin Market Trend #Bioengineered Artificial Skin Market Demand.

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chemicalresearchupdates · 2 years ago

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Bioengineered Food Market Revolution: Feeding a Growing World Population

The bioengineered food market is a dynamic and rapidly evolving sector within the broader food industry. Bioengineered foods, often referred to as genetically modified organisms (GMOs), are products whose genetic material has been altered in a way that does not occur naturally through mating or natural recombination. This manipulation is typically carried out to enhance specific traits or characteristics of the crops, such as resistance to pests, diseases, or environmental stressors.

In recent years, the bioengineered food market has witnessed substantial growth, driven by various factors. The increasing global population and rising food demand have put significant pressure on the agriculture sector to produce more food efficiently. Bioengineered crops have emerged as a solution to increase agricultural productivity and mitigate food security concerns.

The bioengineered food market encompasses a wide range of products, including genetically modified crops such as corn, soybeans, cotton, and canola. These crops are used in various food products, including processed foods, cooking oils, and animal feed. Additionally, bioengineered foods have found applications in the production of medicines, enzymes, and other industrial products.

One of the bioengineered food market prominent trends in the continuous development of genetically modified varieties that offer enhanced nutritional profiles. For instance, bioengineered crops with increased nutrient content, such as vitamin-fortified rice, can address malnutrition issues in developing countries. Moreover, bioengineered foods with reduced allergenic properties and improved shelf life are gaining traction among consumers.

However, the bioengineered food market is not without controversy. Concerns regarding the safety of GMOs for human consumption and their potential impact on the environment have sparked debates and regulatory scrutiny. To address these concerns, governments and international organizations have established guidelines and regulations for the approval and labeling of bioengineered foods, aiming to ensure transparency and consumer choice.

In conclusion, the bioengineered food market is a multifaceted industry that plays a significant role in meeting the world's growing food needs. While it presents opportunities for enhancing crop productivity and nutritional value, it also faces challenges related to safety and consumer acceptance. As technology continues to advance and regulatory frameworks evolve, the bioengineered food market will continue to shape the future of agriculture and the food industry. Staying informed about the latest developments and trends in this market is essential for all stakeholders involved in food production and consumption.

#Bioengineered Food Market #Bioengineered Food Market Growth #Bioengineered Food Market Trends

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catboybiologist · 1 year ago

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Alright I can't finish this all in one sitting, but here's at least a bit of.... something? A word vomit? A prelude to smut about the eroticism of the machine? For all you robot, mecha, and spaceship fuckers out there. @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl that means you

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- something to interface with the hull, move the new titanium plates and particulates into place, have a living, growing mass interfacing with the steel so that the ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous interface with the hull full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, and integrating with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, and let them suffer and rot after disposal. So as far as the official record was concerned, they didn't have brains.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on a... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship. They were pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

But I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chasiss I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I strapped in to the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as the tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, that was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. But whatever reason that was, the best pilots were still the ones that knew both their ship, and the ship's brain. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers rooting them into the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on. ...?

"We got a scrap run."

^_^

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and what Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time.

I punch the boost.

#eroticism of the machine #robot girl #mecha girl #spaceship girl #the fuck do I even tag this LOL #yall gotta tag this and make sure it gets to the right spaces for me okay

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badguyswin · 9 days ago

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Rebel Rogue to Stormtrooper

For the anon that wanted a Han Solo to Stormtrooper TF!

The Imperial research facility on Dantooine was a fortress of cold precision, its subterranean chambers lit by the sterile glow of bioluminescent panels. In the heart of the complex, within a sealed laboratory pulsing with the hum of advanced machinery, Han Solo lay restrained on a sleek obsidian table. His wrists and ankles were bound by magnetic cuffs, his body wired with a network of electrodes and intravenous lines. The air was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals and the faint ozone tang of active circuitry. Above him, a massive neural reconditioner loomed, its array of emitters glowing with a sickly green light. This was Project Ascendant, the Empire’s audacious attempt to forge the ultimate soldier—a drone of unwavering loyalty, enhanced physicality, and controlled desire.

Dr. Varn Korr, the project’s lead scientist, stood at a control console, his fingers dancing across holoscreens displaying Han’s vital signs and neural activity. “Subject Solo,�� he said, his voice clinical but laced with a hint of excitement, “your resistance is irrelevant. The procedure will make you a monument to the Empire’s vision.” Han’s eyes, still burning with defiance, flicked toward Korr. “Go to hell,” he spat, his voice hoarse but sharp. Inside, his mind raced—thoughts of Chewie, Leia, the Falcon, the Rebellion. He’d get out of this. He always did.

But the procedure had already begun.

The first phase targeted Han’s body. A series of micro-injectors embedded in the table pierced his skin, delivering a bioengineered serum—a volatile mix of nanites, growth hormones, and gene-editing compounds. The nanites swarmed his muscles, rewriting cellular structures to enhance density and strength. Han’s body convulsed as his lean smuggler’s frame began to change. His biceps swelled, veins bulging like cables under his skin. His chest broadened, pectorals straining against his white shirt. His legs, once wiry, thickened into pillars of raw power. Within minutes, his muscle mass had increased by thirty percent, his body sculpted into a form that rivaled the most elite Imperial commandos. His height remained unchanged, but his presence was now imposing, a weapon forged in flesh.

But the transformation went beyond strength. The serum included a facial reconstruction protocol, designed to erase Han Solo’s identity entirely. Nanites targeted his bone structure, subtly reshaping his jawline to a sharper, more symmetrical angle, enhancing its chiseled definition. His cheekbones lifted, becoming more pronounced, giving him an almost aristocratic handsomeness. His nose, once slightly crooked from a bar fight on Corellia, was straightened and refined. His skin smoothed, scars fading, leaving a flawless complexion that radiated idealized beauty. The face staring back from the reflective surface of a nearby monitor was no longer Han Solo’s—it was a stranger’s, classically handsome, a perfect mask for the Empire’s new weapon.

As the nanites worked, a sleek assistant droid, its limbs tipped with precision tools, approached. “Commencing cranial depilation,” it intoned in a flat monotone. Han’s head jerked against the restraints as the droid’s buzzing clippers descended. His dark, tousled hair—part of his roguish charm—fell in clumps to the floor, leaving his scalp bare and gleaming under the lab’s harsh lights. The droid applied a chemical sealant, ensuring the hair would never grow back, further stripping away his former identity. Han’s fingers twitched, his mind screaming. Not my hair, you bucket of bolts. But the act was symbolic, a final severing of the smuggler’s image.

The serum also targeted his endocrine system, amplifying his testosterone levels to unnatural heights. This wasn’t just for strength—it was a deliberate alteration to heighten his sex drive, a tool for control. The nanites rewired neural pathways linked to pleasure, ensuring that release could only occur on command from an Imperial officer. The result was a constant, gnawing arousal, a torment that pulsed through him like a second heartbeat. Han gritted his teeth as the sensation took hold, a primal urge he couldn’t shake. “What the hell are you doing to me?” he growled, his voice trembling with rage and something else—something he couldn’t name. His new face, handsome but alien, felt like a betrayal of his very self.

Korr’s assistant, a droid with a monotone voice, responded: “The serum enhances physical capability and enforces compliance through controlled dopamine release. You will serve the Empire with unmatched vigor.” Han’s mind recoiled, but his body betrayed him, muscles flexing involuntarily as the nanites completed their work.

The second phase was far crueler. The neural reconditioner activated, its emitters projecting electromagnetic pulses into Han’s brain, targeting his prefrontal cortex, amygdala, and hippocampus. The machine systematically dismantled his sense of self, burying memories of his life under a haze of distortion. The pulses didn’t erase them; they smothered them, overlaying new directives. The Empire was order. The Empire was purpose. The Empire was everything.

Han’s thoughts fought back, a maelstrom of defiance. I’m Han Solo. I don’t kneel to anyone. He clung to fragments—the Falcon’s cockpit, Chewie’s roar, Leia’s defiant glare. But each pulse sent a wave of euphoria, a false pleasure tied to Imperial loyalty. The first time he pictured the Emperor’s throne, a shiver of satisfaction ran through him, and he hated it. No, that’s not me. “Get out of my head!” he rasped, sweat beading on his newly sculpted face. His bald scalp gleamed, a stark reminder of his fading identity.

Korr leaned in, his voice almost soothing. “Resistance is futile, Solo. The procedure rewrites your neural architecture. Every rebellious thought will be rerouted to loyalty. Every desire will serve the Empire.” He increased the reconditioner’s intensity, and Han’s mind screamed as his memories fractured. The Rebellion became a vague chaos, a blight to be eradicated. Leia’s face blurred, replaced by the stark lines of an Imperial crest. The pleasure of serving the Empire felt… right. Natural.

The final stage imprinted a new identity: TK-417. The designation rooted itself in his psyche, a truth that overshadowed Han Solo. The smuggler was a relic, a shadow of disorder. TK-417 was the future—a perfect drone, his handsome face and muscular form a testament to Imperial perfection. The constant arousal, now a permanent undercurrent, was tied to this identity. Obedience promised relief, however fleeting. Disobedience brought only torment. As the procedure neared completion, Han’s thoughts grew ordered, mechanical. The Empire is order. I am TK-417. I will serve.

As the neural reconditioner powered down, the assistant droid approached once more, its arm now fitted with a precision tattooing tool. “Initiating permanent identification marking,” it stated. The droid’s needle hummed, piercing the skin of TK-417’s left pectoral muscle. Han’s body twitched, the pain sharp but fleeting, as the droid etched the code “TK-417” in bold, black Imperial script. The tattoo was deep, permanent, a brand declaring him property of the Empire. The sight of it, reflected in a nearby monitor, sealed the transformation. The last vestige of Han Solo recoiled at the mark, but TK-417 felt a surge of pride—the Empire’s claim on him was absolute, a badge of his purpose.

In the early stages, Han’s mind was a warzone. The physical changes were a violation—his muscles too heavy, his face unfamiliar, his scalp bare and cold. The tattoo on his chest burned, a constant reminder of his captivity. The arousal was a humiliating distraction, a need that clawed at his focus. I’m still me, he told himself, picturing the Falcon’s controls or Leia’s smirk. But the experimental serum still pumping through his veins made his body feel alien, too strong, too perfect. When he caught his reflection, the handsome stranger staring back unnerved him. That’s not my face. The loss of his hair and the tattoo on his chest felt like personal insults, stripping away his roguish identity.

By the third day, the reconditioner began to win. He’d think of the Rebellion and feel a programmed disgust, a betrayal of his core. No, I’m with them. But the pleasure of imagining Imperial victories was undeniable, a drug seeping into his thoughts. He saw himself in white armor, his new face hidden, his bald head encased in a helmet, the tattoo a mark of honor, and for a moment, it felt right. He shook it off, cursing Korr, the Empire and above all his own weakness.

Those brief moments of clarity soon faded. By the fifth day, Han Solo was a ghost. TK-417 dominated, his thoughts a loop of devotion. The arousal was a leash, driving him to obey for the promise of release. The tattoo on his chest, once a source of rage, now felt like a badge of purpose. When Korr tested him, ordering him to recite Imperial doctrine, the words flowed effortlessly: “The Empire brings order. I am its instrument.” The pride in his voice, resonating from his perfect jawline, sickened the fading spark of Han, but it was buried deep.

When the procedure was complete, TK-417 was led to the facility’s armory, a cavernous chamber lined with racks of gleaming stormtrooper armor. His transformation was absolute—his physique a marvel of broad shoulders and chiseled muscles, the tattooed “TK-417” stark against his left pectoral. His face, now classically handsome, was a mask of Imperial ideals, his bald scalp a symbol of his erased past. The assistant droid guided him to a designated station where his personalized armor awaited, its white plastoid plates polished to a mirror sheen. The sight of it stirred something in TK-417—not a memory, but a programmed instinct. This was his purpose, his destiny.

As he began to don the armor, the process felt ritualistic, each piece a step deeper into his new identity. He started with the black bodysuit, its tight fabric clinging to his enhanced musculature, accentuating every curve and bulge. The sensation of the material against his skin sent a shiver through him, and the ever-present arousal surged, his body responding with a hard, throbbing intensity. The serum’s effects were relentless, tying his desire to acts of service. Dressing in the armor, becoming the Empire’s weapon, was an act of devotion, and it inflamed his need. He adjusted the bodysuit, his breath quickening, the tightness amplifying his arousal to a near-painful edge. Release was impossible without a command, leaving him in a state of perpetual, maddening want.

Next came the plastoid plates. TK-417 fastened the chest piece, the tattoo of his designation now hidden beneath the armor’s protective shell. The weight of it felt right, a physical manifestation of his loyalty. As he secured the pauldrons, greaves, and gauntlets, his movements were precise, mechanical, each click and snap reinforcing his purpose. The armor was an extension of the Empire, and encasing himself in it was an act of surrender to its will. His arousal intensified with every piece, his body trembling as he fought the urge to seek relief that would never come without permission. The sensation was exquisite torture, a reminder of his place as a tool of the Empire.

Finally, he lifted the helmet, its black eye lenses staring back like twin voids. As he lowered it over his bald scalp, the HUD flickered to life, feeding him tactical data and Imperial directives. The helmet sealed with a hiss, erasing his handsome features, leaving only the faceless visage of a stormtrooper. Inside, TK-417’s mind was a furnace of devotion, his arousal a constant hum that drove him to obey. He stood before a mirror, the reflection showing not Han Solo, but a perfect Imperial drone, ready to enforce order.

Captain Drex entered, his polished boots clicking on the floor. He inspected TK-417, his gaze lingering on the armored figure. “Impressive, TK-417,” he said, his voice laced with sadistic amusement. “You’re a fine specimen of the Empire’s vision.” He stepped closer, his presence commanding. “Kneel.” TK-417 dropped to one knee, his armor clanking softly, his arousal spiking at the command. The promise of release was a beacon, but Drex only smirked. “Not yet. Prove your worth on the battlefield.”

As TK-417 boarded a shuttle for his first mission, his thoughts were a hymn to the Empire. I will make the galaxy kneel. The armor, still warm against his skin, felt like a second skin, each movement stoking the fire of his desire. The tattoo beneath his chest plate was a silent vow, a mark of ownership. The spark of Han Solo flickered faintly, stirred by a distant Rebel transmission mentioning a Wookiee and a princess, but it was too weak to matter. TK-417 marched forward, a mindless drone, his enhanced body a weapon, his desires a chain, his tattooed mark and gleaming armor a testament to his purpose—the Empire’s alone.

#stormtrooper tf #my stories #ai generated #hero to villain tf #drone tf #henchman tf #corruption tf

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raakdos-battlemap · 8 days ago

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[Ravnica battlemap]Zonot One - Zegana’s Glimmering Depths 32x56

Zonot One stands as the living heart of the Simic Combine’s ancient knowledge—a hidden sanctuary beneath the surface of Ravnica where nature and science blend seamlessly. Within this smallest and oldest sinkhole, glowing currents flow through coral-laden caverns, nurturing ever-evolving life. It is a place where bioengineered wonders bloom, embodying the delicate balance between growth and control.

More variations of this map:

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threepandas · 1 year ago

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The Vod's List: Part 3

The Separatist Army tries invade the Techganic homeworld and DIES SCREAMING.

I... I am cackling like a broken laugh 'track, in a low Senatorial staff seating area. Pretty sure everyone thinks I've lost my chips. But... BUT THEY DON'T GET IT! It's so FUNNY!? Oh Bones and Blood! Oh karking STARS!!! Of all the kriffing PLANETS to PHYSICALLY INVADE with DROIDS!!!

DROIDS!

I am wheezing. Gasping for air. Slowly tipping out of my chair as I all but seize silently in spasms of sheer, incredulous, amusement. Oh Stars, I'm gonna die. My gut is on fire and I DONT CARE. Droids! Just... just DROPPED UM right into the capitals like "here ya go! Surrender flesh bags!"

Pfffahahahahaha!

I finally slip, only for a gloved hand to catch my shoulder gently, keeping me from crashing to the floor. A calculated step and lift, brings my shoulder to brace against the side of familiar armor. A guard. I manage to glance up through my incoherent laughing fit. I know that armor!

"Fox!" I grin, glad I am starting to be able to tell the gaurds apart. It always felt rude to have to keep asking their names, even when I by all rights SHOULD already know them. "Good morning."

"Ma'am." He nods. I still don't get why people think they're 'emotionless'. Even through the voicecoder, his voice is warm. "Funny joke?"

"The Separatists invaded my planet." I laugh. At his questioning head tilt, I grin MEANLY from behind my mask. "Remember how we met? And you got infected? EVERYONE on my planet is some version of carrier, either Organic or Technological. Depending on where those droids land? They are either FOOD or free scrap metal. The Collective will EAT them. And folks back home?"

I glanced around, trying to find the room's cameras. Fox casually pointed before stepping between it's line of sight and me. Kriff he was so cool. I grabbed one of the old datapads I was supposed to dump in the recycler after my break. No one would miss if I threw one in the biohazard shoot instead... probably.

I turned it on. Showing it worked. A perfectly functioning, if old, datapad. Then? I listened to that old, old, OLD instinct in the back of my head that karking HATED technology. That honestly would be happier living in a stone shack on a distant moon, surrounded by growth. That could, at a glance, pick apart any given peice of technology's weak points.

Not to slice it. Or IMPROVE it. But to BREAK it. Irreparably.

My eyes found the weak point in the screen almost immediately. A point where fingers had worn it thin. Smack! I cracked it against the table, like an animal trying to open trying to open a nut. It cracked. And that was all I needed. All ANY of us would ever need, really.

Just One Little Crack.

I pulled off my mask, knowing my face was probably doing that... THING. That "super intent Murder Hunter" thing that we all do, when our instincts engage. But I wanted to show Fox. I trusted him. So I flexed my jaw and thought of the lift, of how me met, the STRESS. Just enough to get a bit of drool.

Then... I let it drop onto the screen.

The reaction, was of course, IMMEDIATE.

The datapad hissed and squealed, screen glitching violently. I carefully put it down, familiar with what was about to happen. Fox... was not. He watched. Frozen. Entranced. As the datapad burned and melted from within. Was CONSUMED. As my nanites wrecked hell in their final moments before dying, no longer supported by my body. Some of course, simply falling dormant.

Those were the lethal ones. The trap for future Collective members trying to reclaim tech. It's why all infected materials had to be treated as a biohazard. Those nanites stayed viable for upwards of a century AT LEAST. Several, in the right condition.

So droids? Ha! We were BIOENGINEERED to fight "droids"! We WERE the original GAR. What was that Human saying? "Nothing new in the Galaxy?" That.

Fox was taking even, measured, breaths. Clenching and unclenching his hand. His voice sounded... strained, as he agreed. That, yes. We WERE very, VERY alike. And that that was FASCINATING. Could his spit do that now too?

I... didn't know. Huh.

I blinked. First up at him. Then down at the 'pad. I hadn't considered that. Kriff. Well THAT was irresponsible of me. Yeah, yeah we should probably schedule some Techganic 101 lessons, shouldn't we? Since... you know, assuming you SURVIVE infection and first "heal"? It's kinda a one and done sort of thing.

You can't get... double infected? It very much IS a you ARE or you AREN'T a carrier. And even THEN... one of two kinds, which CAN NOT peacefully coexist.

Plus... since it's adapted to the Guards biology, a spread would be SUPER easy?

.........I..... I SHOULD tell someone.

But what would happen to Fox? I'm not blind. People aren't exactly... KIND to Clones. Would they decide its just easier to get rid of him? My gut say probably. Experience says likely. I've barely even STARTED working at the Senate and... well...

Maybe I should keep my mouth shut. WE should keep our mouth shut.

"This time, I'll be the one looking out for YOU, kay Fox?"

"Of course. I'll leave my self in your capable hands. I have no doubt... I'll learn A LOT."

There is something intent about the way he stands, the way he's bracketing me into my chair. The almost soft, warm but cloying quality to his voice. Like he's trying not to make it obvious he's handling me. Like I'm some import dignitary he wants to avoid upsetting. But one he LIKES. It's strange... I'm certain I'm missing something...

At least I have plenty of other Guards around to ask.

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #the vods list #The Vod's List au #yandere star wars #yandere clone troopers #clone troopers #the clone wars #yandere clones #yandere fox #reader insert #yanblr #star wars

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gravitybawls · 4 months ago

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Stancest Autoandrophilia with trans Stanley !!!

Ford, ever the scientist, bioengineers extra potent hormones for his brother. He makes sure Stanley has a diet full of testosterone-boosting foods, too.

Ford journals every change in Stan, from balding to clitoral growth to weight gain and everything I'm between. Stan has to get used to his brother constantly graphing his every move, insisting its to "track your masculinization process, Stanley".

Ford praises his brother at all hours of the day, telling Stanley how handsome he's becoming, how he really DOES look like their father, how he's becoming manlier every day.

It all comes to a head, however, when Stan wakes up, paralyzed and pantsless, to see Ford leaning over him with multiple surgical tools in hand.

#stancest #profic #proship #proship interact #proshipper safe #anti anti #anti harassment #autoandrophilia #forcemasc #dubc0n #but stan is totally into it

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hi-sierra · 1 year ago

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Biologics, chapter 0.5

Hello, hello! I finally have added a significant amount to my story, Biologics, resulting in a total of ~4400 words. Not a whole ton, I know, but unfortunately life gets to ya. It isn't quite where I want it to be to consider a proper chapter one, but I feel like there's enough written for me to post. General warning that this is intended to heavily lean into the theme of "eroticism of the machine", so if that doesn't appeal to you, you've been warned. It does, however, have many general sci fi worldbuilding elements, so I hope it has a somewhat broad appeal!

So yes, if you already read the first snippet, that's going to be mostly a one to one repeat with some grammatical adjustments. Feel free to scroll down until you get to the new stuff. Flow-wise, there just wasn't a good place to break between the two sections.

Look at me rambling. And I wonder why I can't get any of this stuff done. Anyways, here it is!

Biologics

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with Biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- organic matter that interfaced with the hull, moving new titanium plates and patches into place down to microscopic precision. If you had a living, growing mass interfacing with steel, a ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous matrix full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, integrated with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, just to let them suffer and rot. So as far as the official record was concerned, they weren't brains. But I knew different.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on an... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship, was thriving. The Navy was pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. Sometimes, being scavenged and resold was a kinder fate. But more often, some nasty piece of work would pick them up eventually, and treat them like just another goddamn ship. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chassis I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips, as well as some... personal touches. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live in and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I slipped into the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as a tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Hell, she even had a hi-res screen for external cameras and comms, but she refused to interface directly with it. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, the little pixelated screen was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with Biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. Cuz they certainly could take over some ships functions directly, and had the skill to do complex mechanical and electrical tasks. The Navy never let 'em drive, though, and most pilots didn't even know they could give them the ability to control any of the ships functions directly. But with a little help, a little bit of solid engineering, and a pilot that knew their ship... well, you could do a lot. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well. Over the years, I'd added some nice things for her, and she loved using them to help me out.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers affixing them to the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on.

[...?]

"We got a scrap run."

[ ^_^]

[ :) ]

[ ^_^ ]

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and the parts Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

Go time. I punch the boost.

The station shakes. Rosie was never a subtle one.

The mechanics are deafened.

The crowd of spectators are deafened.

The other pilots in the hanger are deafened.

But me? The vibrations of Rosie's hull shuddering under me was the sweetest symphony my ears ever had the pleasure of hearing. As we shot out of that hanger, I found myself involuntarily humming a high note, harmonizing with the sweet rumble of my baby's acceleration as we shoot out into the inky, black expanse of space. The twin asteroids shot by us as we disappeared, leaving only the faint blue plasma trail from our engines.

My hand is firm on the boost, weathered hands tightly gripping the bar of the accelerator. I remember installing this thing in her- it was an aftermarket adjustment, not included in the usual light skipper chassis. Gently stripping away the back of her chassis, caressing her insides as I rooted the paneling, firmly attaching the tanks and burners on her insides... these hands had taken great pleasure in that. Bested only, of course, by the first time I had felt the thing roar to life.

And what a feeling it was. Rosie's entire chassis, biological and mechanical, shuddering under my grasp. The grip of my calloused hands on the boost controls, tight and sweaty around the ridged grip of the horizontal bar. The noises she made, as if to shout in glee and wild abandon at being unchained and let loose into the eternal field of space, as she was made to do. The gentle touch of her skin on my back, my body pressed in contact with the small fraction of hers that was my seat. I glanced down at her face panel.

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

My humming gave way to a chuckle, and then a wholehearted, exhilarated laugh. Someone was enjoying herself. The flickering faces on her panel reminded me of the happily panting station dogs back on Mars.

But as much as I would like this to just be a joyride, I had promised Rosie a scrap run. And the pickings were looking good. I glanced down at the nav. I was intentionally headed at a slightly indirect angle- Rosie's boost was her main attractive feature (both as a ship, and as a working partner), and the extra leeway I had in travel time let me strategize a bit more. I doubted we would be the first people there, but I figured we could get in before the main rush. The only trouble was darting in and grabbing something right from under the noses of the first locusts. The scrap field in question included a disabled heavy mining freighter, a goliath of the ship larger than some of the asteroids it made supply runs between. I assumed that most other scavengers would be approaching directly from our station, and the other stations in its proximity. With Rosie's boost, we could overshoot, hook around, and put the freighter in between us and the guns of the more violent craft. Rosie has no long range weapons of any kind- not only would they slow down her miraculous speed, but she didn't like them. I tried installing a small plasma cannon once, and she expressed immense distaste. Maybe they were too brutish for her, or maybe she didn't like the way they felt inside her, burdening her with pressure from the inside that didn't befit the delicate touches I usually graced her with. Rosie loved speed, precision, elegance, and stealth above all else. It's just the kind of ship she was.

That's not to say she was a pacifist, or defenseless. Quite the contrary. She just prefers a more... personal touch.

The navicom beeped at me. We'd reached the point where we needed to make that hook. My bare feet gently swept across the titanium flooring to the steering pedals. My right hand delicately gripped the steering joystick, while my left eased its grip on the boost accelerator.

"Ready for this, darling?"

[ >:) ]

I slammed the steering to the left, and Rosie gleefully complied. The wide bank of the turn as we rotated and soared through the sea of stars twisted my body in its inertia, compressing me further into her. As the angle straightened out to the proper heading, I punched the boost again, and Rosie roared forward.

Slowly, our target came into sight. Damn. This thing had taken some serious damage. Mining freighters typically weren't heavily armored- their only job was to get material from point A to B- but this one had clearly been through some serious modifications. Modifications that now lay in ruin. Titanium plating was scattered in a field around the core of the freighter. I couldn't quite tell what was stuff left behind by the battle, and what was the result of shoddy craftmanship- but it didn't matter. What did matter was that the entire thing had been split almost in half, and the scattered cargo that was leaking out. Cargo that most likely included half the weapon supplies of this little rebel faction. Would fetch a pretty penny, to the right buyer. And hell, if it was just gonna sit here unclaimed...

Ah shit. It wasn't gonna sit here unclaimed. Despite my best efforts, it looks like we weren't the first ones here. A larger scavenger gang had already arrived, and it looks like it was one of the ones I knew- Augustus and his lot. Most likely, they'd be after the weapons intact, one more thing to use to shakedown the scattered independent stations I always flitted between. He would not be happy to see me n Rosie here. What he called his "fleet" was a single, mid-sized carrier ship, about half the size of the freighter we were looting, and the dozen or so scout fighters and strip mining crafts he had looted from the Navy and various corps, and one Biologic that he called his. I respect that part, to be honest. What I don't respect is him immediately turning around and using that charge every goddamn station his ever-increasing "protection fees". Not to mention my personal disdain for the way he treated his ship. Didn't even give her a damn name. I digress. But any chance to loot something from under that slimebag's nose was a win in my book. I knew he wasn't gonna make it easy, though.

Welp. That's what our positioning was for. The side facing us was the main starboard face, and like the rest of the ship, it was peppered in small holes and gashes. Seems like the main damage had happened from the other side, and a few cables and scaffolds on the starboard just barely kept the two rear cargo compartments clinging to the front.

"Alright Rosie, time to creep it in slow. Be quiet, now, don't want them picking up a plasma surge"

[ :| ]

Ha. That was her "my lips are sealed" face. She's having fun with this already.

I cut the booster, coasting closer and closer to the bust open vessel. I eased the reverse thrusters ever so slightly, my fingers gently stroking the dual brake levers, lightly teasing at them to wait until we were as close as I thought we could be without attracted attention.......... before slamming both sides back towards me. For just one, crucial moment.

The goal here was to approximately match the speed and trajectory of a floating piece of titanium plating. Rosie's frontal blades were essentially that, anyways, so all they would see is a somewhat more angular piece of rubble. Hopefully they hadn't seen that same piece of rubble screaming out of travel speed, but I was cautious enough with my distances that I didn't think that was a problem. And they hadn't seen me yet. Once we were close enough to the freighter itself, we were blocked from their raw sightline, and Rosie was running quiet enough to not tip off any of their energy sensors.

But there was still no guarantee. Rosie, however, had no shortage of tricks. Something that she and I had developed together was a nice little bit of snooping. Well cared for and well trained, a Biologic brain had the problem solving of a human, and the computational power of a machine. But them together, and you've got a perfect decoder. And I happened to know that Augustus used an encrypted local frequency to keep his

"Alright Rosie, thinkin you can eavesdrop a little?"

Affirmative.

[...]

[..!]

My comms crackled to life. "...7 heavy cannons in center-front portside bay, 3 replacement fighter hatchs...."

The comms crackled back and forth, with each pilot giving updates to what they were finding in their own little segment that they were slicing apart. Occasionally, I saw Augustus or the fighters flick between the slicing ships, overseeing their progress on the port bays. Good. Let them focus on the other side for now. Slowly, the fleet was overshadowed by the freighter. We made it. I released my breath- shit, didn't realize I was holding it- and took a better look at what we were dealing with. It looked as if the scattered debris field had mostly been the remnants of the hull, as well as light weapons for small craft and even infantry. They would fetch some small change, sure, but Rosie's cargo capacity was small. Packing efficiency was the name of the game. I saw the gash that it had all been flooding out of on this side- the entire freighter was covered in them- and peered inside. And ho boy, did my heart flutter.

Heavy cannons.

Jump-graded travel boosters.

Raw, precious metals.

And, hidden in the back corner, seemingly bolted into the wall.... a brain.

We'd hit jackpot, and potentially rescued a poor ship from abandonment, or worse.

"Alright Rosie. Time to get to work."

Affirmative.

And here was another lil something that made Rosie special- her manipulation arms . She always preferred that delicate touch, and wanted to interact with the world in a tactile, real way. So we worked on it. Together. I was tired of taking spacewalks to grab small pieces of scrap, or using the entire goddamn cargo bay on a piece that only had a tiny core, or scraps of precious metals inside. So we needed something that could pluck apart our finds. Do some light disassembly in the field, extract what was valuable, and load it in with the most packing efficiency possible. So I gave her arms- snake like appendages, coiled up in her cargo bay, with thousands of points of articulation. At first, I tried to make some kind of control system that I could use from the cockpit. But Rosie had a different idea. At her urged, I jacked them directly into the same sensory and motor systems that let her grip onto, position, and repair her hull. And by god, it worked.

When I showed her off the first time, no one had ever seen anything like it. Because there was nothing like it. A ship taking real mechanical control, over something so precise and delicate, was something that only a deeply intelligent, deeply skilled ship, with complex decision making and tactile movement could do.

And I was goddamn proud of her.

Every time she deployed them, I watched awe. Rosie gave a face of determination, and sinuous, metallic, tentacle-like appendages slid out in a bundle from the cargo bay opening on her underside. Each one was headed off by a different attachment- a precision laser cutter, a simple three-pointed grabbing claw, a drill, a tiny buzzsaw, camera that let me see what was going on, and more. Each one could be swapped out, depending on the task at hand. With eight of them slithering out from her cargo bay, though, there was usually something for everything. They extended out as a single bouquet, down through the hole of the cargo compartment, and split apart once inside. Each arm got to work.

Her observation monitor flickered on, giving me a view from the camera arm. I would've liked to get the brain out first, but two heavy cannons and a booster blocking the way anyways. We'd cut through that, picking off the energy cores and precious metals in the circuits as we go, and work our way towards the back. Rosie seemed to like the plan as well. My only job was to watch the comms, and watch the sensors.

I watched the camera as the petite tools of the arms excised and picked apart the titanium shell of the first heavy cannon. Her tools- the delicate 'fingers' of her arms- picked, pulled, tugged, and gently gripped every necessary notch, every joined titanium plate that needed to be undone, ever scrap of precious material. Firm, yet precise. Strong, yet never breaking or mishandling a single piece of cargo. As Rosie worked, my eyes darted across the energy sensors. I could see blips firing off as the ships on the other side of the freighter as the slicing ships worked and flitted between their stations from the other side. The comms crackled with their reports to Augustus- they seemed to be moving back and forth to the main carrier to drop off their hauls. It seemed like they had a lot to go through- we'd have plenty of time.

On the camera view, I could see a grabbing claw retracting back through the cargo bay. The first cannon had the back section cleanly excised from the massive barrel and chassis, leaving a path for the tools to get to the booster. The precious energy cell was sliding its way back into Rosie's cargo bay. God damn. She was quick with that. The laser cutter and saw were already making short work of the booster, too. We'd get to the brain in no time.

The chatter on the other line continued. We were still safe, but Augustus' crew had made more progress than I had hoped. Once the slicers had picked apart the port, they'd loop around to the starboard. We had to grab what we could as fast as we can- but I knew neither me or Rosie was gonna leave without that brain. Rosie gracefully sliced the fuel cell and ignition from the plasma burner, leaving the bracketing and vents behind. The second heavy cannon was soon to follow. Each cut through each piece had left a winding path towards the back of the chamber, allowing a physical path to what I had seen just barely poking through: a container for a genuine ship's brain. Rosie slid her camera arm in for a closer look.

The brain was bolted into the chassis of the ship, as well as some containers of growth factor. Seemed like the intent was to grow her in to this freighter. That was certainly an ambitious task, but if they knew what they were doing, it would be well worth it. A self-repairing, intelligent hauler as large as this one would be the heart and soul of resistance movements everywhere, supplying every backwater mining station or moon that longed to be free. Unfortunately, the brave and principled can still be stupid, and these chucklefucks had no idea what they were doing. Slapped in a random cargo bay, desperately trying to get growth out from there with no proper imprinting guidance... shame. If they'd've found me before running into the Navy, I might've helped them out. But at least now, we could give her a better life. I knew a lot of good, caring pilots that would take loving care of a fine ship like her.

From what I could tell, we were still safe from Augustus. Based on what I was hearing on the comms, each slicer was working on its last cargo hold subsection, and after that, they'd be poking around this side. We had to get this brain and get out.

Tenderly, her claw arm gripped the top of the brain's chamber, as her other fingers started working on the rivets. A saw would bust through part of the titanium bracket holding the chamber down, and when it got too close to the container itself, laser cutters took over, delicately slicing off each affixation point one by one. Rosie worked in a clockwise direction, first working down the three riveting points on the right, sawing off the bottom bracket, and then working up the rivets on the left.

C'mon Rosie. You got this. Just need the top plate....

"Finishing up there, slicer 5T?"

Shit. That was Augustus on the comms.

"Sure thing boss. Just gotta get this load to central. Mind if someone takes a peek on the other side for parasites before I get there?"

Shit.

"Sure thing. Fighter 3A, get your ass in gear and make a full pass of the ship."

An energy spike pinged on my sensor panels as the fighter revved up a booster.

"Gotcha boss. Starting at aft segment."

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit

We still had a sliver of time before we were seen. They'd wanna get a good pass everywhere- there were ships far stealthier than us out there. But it was minutes at most. We had to finish up.

"Rosie, how're we doing there? You done?"

Negative.

[ ;( ]

"Fuck. Rosie, we gotta get outta here."

Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative.

Rosie-speak for "I know, I know, I know"

My eyes were fixed to the scanner and my cockpit windows for a visual, but I spared one moment to check Rosie's cam. She was finishing sawing through the top bracket. Just a little more....

"Aft clear, moving to starboard cargo bays."

The brain snapped off of the hull, and Rosie's claws were zipping it back to her cargo bay. I revved the engines into standby. The arms tenderly guided it through the path we had cleared, and out through the hole in the hull. We might be able to barely slip away without them knowing.....

I looked up through the cockpit, just as the dinged-up, formerly Navy fighter showed itself from behind a piece of debris. It froze for a moment, and then lined its nose to face me. Cannon ports shifted open, and slowly took aim.

"Well shit, Augustus, you're gonna wanna see this. Get your ass over here, I'm switching to public comms."

I heard slight fuzz as he switched his channel.

"Alright, leech, I'll keep this simple. You have thirty seconds to relinquish your haul before you join the debris."

For a single, cold moment, I swear I made eye contact with him through our cockpits.

#writing #sierra writes #biologics #robotfucker #eroticism of the machine #story #sci fi story #scifi #scifi story

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covenofvenus · 7 months ago

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Happy Tuesday Lovelies & Acolytes,

Pluto goes direct today in Aquarius (Nov 19 2024) and will stay there until June 2043.

Plutonian energy is intense, deeply generational and ancestral especially in its connection to intergenerational traumas, ancestral patterns, generational shifts and ties. It is a planet of deep transformation, representing the hidden and often uncomfortable truths, it challenges us to confront the darkest parts of ourselves and the world, burning away what no longer serves us, to allow for spiritual and personal rebirth. Pluto’s connection to the eighth house ties it the inter generational and psychological inheritance passed down through families, such as generational patterns, emotional or spiritual wounds passed down through family linage, ancestral healing, and deep karmic cycles encouraging us to break free from destructive ancestral patterns. Pluto helps us on our soul evolution, on our journey towards growth and self mastery.

Aquarius is an air sign ruled by Saturn (structure and discipline) and modernly by Uranus (rebellion & innovation) it governs themes of technology, humanitarianism, collective consciousness, individuality and progress. Aquarius values freedom, equality and intellectual advancement, challenging the status quo to envision a better future. Pluto in Aquarius represent the destruction and transformation of outdated societal structures, to build a more innovative, inclusive and equitable future. It sígnala a shift from power concentrated in the hands of a few to power shared amongst the collective.

Key Themes of This Transit:

🔥Technological Revolution - this will likely bring revolutionary advancements in technology, artificial intelligence and space exploration. It will also force us to confront the darker sides of technology, such as privacy concerns, surveillance and ethical dilemmas around AI.

🔥Collective Power & Humanitarianism - this transit emphasizes the collective empowerment of communities and the redistribution of power. It will challenge hierarchal systems, promoting equality and collaboration. Grassroots movements, activism and collective efforts to address global challenges will gain momentum. It’s a call for humanity to work together for the greater good.

🔥Rebellion against Oppression- Aquarius is the sign of rebellion and innovation. Pluto’s energy will expose oppressive systems and power imbalances, sparking revolutions and reforms. This could manifest in political uprisings, societal shifts and the dismantling of outdated ideologies.

🔥Redefinition of Individuality and Identity- Aquarius governs individuality within the collective. Pluto presence here challenges us to balance personal freedom with collective responsibility. This could bring shifts in how we define identity, individuality and inclusivity in a globalized world.

🔥Spiritual Awakening and Collective Consciousness- Aquarius is associated with higher consciousness and spiritual enlightenment. Pluto’s transit here can spark shifts in collective awareness, encouraging people to embrace universal truths and interconnectedness. It challenges individuals to rise above ego-driven motives and align with greater good.

The Shadow Side of Pluto in Aquarius

💧Technological Overreach - While technology will advance, there’s potential for misuse, such as increased surveillance, loss of privacy and ethical dilemmas around AI and bioengineering.

💧Rebellion without Purpose - The rebellious energy of Aquarius combined with Pluto’s intensity, could lead to chaos, extremism and movements that lack clear direction or focus.

💧Alienation & Isolation - Aquarius values intellectual connection but it’s detachment can lead to feelings of alienation, especially as technology reshapes human interaction.

Pluto’s transit through Aquarius throughout the next 18 yrs heralds a time of profound transformation, innovation and collective empowerment. It calls on humanity to confront its shadows - technological, societal and environmental - while embracing a future built in equality, progress and interconnectedness.

By aligning with these energies, we can navigate through this transformative era with better awareness, adaptability and purpose.

If you have any planets in Taurus or Scorpio, Pluto will be squaring that planet. Squares in astrology are metaphysical symbols of growth through conflict. They highlight where tension exists in our lives, pushing us to integrate opposing forces, overcome challenges and evolve spiritually. While they can be challenging, squares are ultimately transformative, offering the gift of resilience, self mastery and balance.

If you have any planets in Leo, Pluto will be opposing that planet. Oppositions in astrology represent polarities that invite integration and harmony. They challenge us to balance opposing forces, fostering growth, awareness and wholeness. While oppositions can feel like tug of war, they ultimately guide us toward unity within duality, helping us align with universal principles of balance and interconnectedness.

If you have any planets in Aquarius, Pluto will be conjuct that planet. Conjunctions in astrology represent unification, amplification and potential synergy that metaphysically symbolize the fusion of energies. They act as initiators of significant life events or internal transformations. It creates a focal point of awareness, where a specific area of life or inner experience demanda attention or development. This creates a merging of energies into a singular potent force that can be harnessed for transformation, manifestation and growth. While they will amplify the strengths of the Pluto, they also challenge us to balance their energies harmoniously, offering profound opportunities for personal and spiritual evolution. Check your birth chart for house placement, to get a better clarity on what that might be.

Fixed Signs Get Ready For Big Life Changes !!!

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jcmarchi · 1 year ago

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Plant sensors could act as an early warning system for farmers

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/plant-sensors-could-act-as-an-early-warning-system-for-farmers/

Plant sensors could act as an early warning system for farmers

Using a pair of sensors made from carbon nanotubes, researchers from MIT and the Singapore-MIT Alliance for Research and Technology (SMART) have discovered signals that reveal when plans are experiencing stresses such as heat, light, or attack from insects or bacteria.

The sensors detect two signaling molecules that plants use to coordinate their response to stress: hydrogen peroxide and salicylic acid (a molecule similar to aspirin). The researchers found that plants produce these molecules at different timepoints for each type of stress, creating distinctive patterns that could serve as an early warning system.

Farmers could use these sensors to monitor potential threats to their crops, allowing them to intervene before the crops are lost, the researchers say.

“What we found is that these two sensors together can tell the user exactly what kind of stress the plant is undergoing. Inside the plant, in real time, you get chemical changes that rise and fall, and each one serves as a fingerprint of a different stress,” says Michael Strano, the Carbon P. Dubbs Professor of Chemical Engineering at MIT and one of the senior authors of the study.

Sarojam Rajani, a senior principal investigator at the Temasek Life Sciences Laboratory in Singapore, is also a senior author of the paper, which appears in Nature Communications. The paper’s lead authors are Mervin Chun-Yi Ang, associate scientific director at SMART and Jolly Madathiparambil Saju, a research officer at Temasek Life Sciences Laboratory.

Sensing stress

Plants respond to different kinds of stress in different ways. In 2020, Strano’s lab developed a sensor that can detect hydrogen peroxide, which plant cells use as a distress signal when they are under attack from insects or encounter other stresses such as bacterial infection or too much light.

These sensors consist of tiny carbon nanotubes wrapped in polymers. By changing the three-dimensional structure of the polymers, the sensors can be tailored to detect different molecules, giving off a fluorescent signal when the target is present. For the new study, the researchers used this approach to develop a sensor that can detect salicylic acid, a molecule that is involved in regulating many aspects of plant growth, development, and response to stress.

To embed the nanosensors into plants, the researchers dissolve them in a solution, which is then applied to the underside of a plant leaf. The sensors can enter leaves through pores called stomata and take up residence in the mesophyll — the layer where most photosynthesis takes place. When a sensor is activated, the signal can be easily detecting using an infrared camera.

The pair of sensors in the leaf consists of one for hydrogen peroxide on the left, and salicylic on the right. When the plant is wounded, as in this case, the left shows a moving waveform in response, but there is very little production of salicylic acid. This is the stress signature of wounding. In contrast, when the plant is stressed by too much heat or light, or a bacterial infection, different waveforms of salicylic acid accompany of the hydrogen peroxide wave on the left.

Image: Courtesy of the researchers

In this study, the researchers applied the sensors for hydrogen peroxide and salicylic acid to pak choi, a leafy green vegetable also known as bok choy or Chinese cabbage. Then, they exposed the plants to four different types of stress — heat, intense light, insect bites, and bacterial infection — and found that the plants generated distinctive responses to each type of stress.

Each type of stress led the plants to produce hydrogen peroxide within minutes, reaching maximum levels within an hour and then returning to normal. Heat, light, and bacterial infection all provoked salicylic acid production within two hours of the stimulus, but at distinct time points. Insect bites did not stimulate salicylic acid production at all.

The findings represent a “language” that plants use to coordinate their response to stress, Strano says. The hydrogen peroxide and salicylic acid waves trigger additional responses that help a plant survive whatever type of stress it’s facing.

For a stress such as an insect bite, this response includes the production of chemical compounds that insects don’t like, driving them away from the plant. Salicylic acid and hydrogen peroxide can also activate signaling pathways that turn on the production of proteins that help plants respond to heat and other stresses.

“Plants don’t have a brain, they don’t have a central nervous system, but they evolved to send different mixtures of chemicals, and that’s how they communicate to the rest of the plant that it’s getting too hot, or an insect predator is attacking,” Strano says.

Early warning

This technique is the first that can obtain real-time information from a plant, and the only one that can be applied to nearly any plant. Most existing sensors consist of fluorescent proteins that must be genetically engineered into a specific type of plant, such as tobacco or the common experimental plant Arabidopsis thaliana, and can’t be universally applied.

The researchers are now adapting these sensors to create sentinel plants that could be monitored to give farmers a much earlier warning when their crops are under stress. When plants don’t have enough water, for example, they eventually begin to turn brown, but by the time that happens, it’s usually too late to intervene.

“With climate change and the increasing population, there is a great need to understand better how plants respond and acclimate to stress, and also to engineer plants that are more tolerant to stress. The work reveals the interplay between H2O2, one of the most important reactive oxygen species in plants, and the hormone salicylic acid, which is widely involved in plants’ stress responses, therefore contributing to the mechanistic understanding of plants stress signaling,” says Eleni Stavrinidou, a senior associate professor of bioengineering at Linköping University in Sweden, who was not involved in the research.

This technology could also be used to develop systems that not only sense when plants are in distress but would also trigger a response such as altering the temperature or the amount of light in a greenhouse.

“We’re incorporating this technology into diagnostics that can give farmers real-time information much faster than any other sensor can, and fast enough for them to intervene,” Strano says.

The researchers are also developing sensors that could be used to detect other plant signaling molecules, in hopes of learning more about their responses to stress and other stimuli.

The research was funded by the National Research Foundation of Singapore and the USDA National Institute of Food and Agriculture.

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