#Breathing air systems manufacturers

[tridentpneumatics]

Understanding the Key Components of a Breathing Air Compressor System

Introduction:  

Breathing air compressor systems play a critical role in various industries, providing a continuous supply of clean and breathable air for personnel working in hazardous environments. These systems are essential for ensuring the safety and well-being of workers, especially in confined spaces or areas with potential air contaminants. Trident Pneumatics delivers reliable and efficient solutions as a reputable breathing air compressor system manufacturers. In this blog, we will explore the key components of a breathing air compressor system, shedding light on their functions and importance in maintaining a safe work environment. 

Compressor Unit: The heart of a breathing air compressor system is the compressor unit, which is responsible for compressing ambient air to the required pressure level. Choosing a compressor designed specifically for breathing air applications is vital, as they undergo rigorous testing to meet international safety standards. Trident Pneumatics ensures its compressors are equipped with advanced safety features and precision engineering, guaranteeing a constant and reliable supply of breathable air. 

 Filtration System: The filtration system in a breathing air compressor plays a crucial role in purifying the compressed air. It removes contaminants such as oil, water vapour, particulates, and other impurities that could be harmful to the health of personnel using the breathing air. Trident Pneumatics incorporates high-quality filtration elements to ensure the output air meets the stringent breathing air quality standards, providing clean and safe air for the users. 

 Aftercooler: Compressing air generates heat, and excessive heat can compromise breathing air quality. The after cooler is a component that cools down the compressed air, ensuring it reaches an appropriate temperature before entering the filtration system. This process helps remove moisture and prevents potential condensation issues, safeguarding the integrity of the compressed air. 

Moisture Separator: Moisture is a common concern when dealing with compressed air. After the after cooler, a moisture separator removes any remaining water vapour from the compressed air. This step is essential in preventing water-related issues like corrosion and bacterial growth in the breathing air system, ensuring the supplied air remains clean and moisture-free. 

 Carbon Monoxide Monitor: Carbon monoxide (CO) is a deadly gas that can be present in compressed air due to various factors, including internal combustion engines or other external sources. Breathing air compressor systems should be equipped with a reliable carbon monoxide monitor to monitor CO levels continuously. In case of elevated CO levels, the system will shut down to prevent the release of hazardous air, ensuring the safety of the users. 

 Air Storage System: Breathing air compressor systems often include an air storage system to ensure a consistent air supply, even during peak demand. The air storage system acts as a buffer, allowing the compressor to run efficiently and maintain steady air pressure. This ensures that users receive a continuous supply of clean and breathable air, regardless of fluctuations in demand. 

Safety Relief Valve: Safety is of utmost importance in breathing air compressor systems. A safety relief valve is a critical component that protects the system from over-pressurization. In case of any anomalies or malfunctions, the safety relief valve will release excess pressure, preventing potential damage to the system and ensuring the safety of the personnel.

 Monitoring and Control System: Modern breathing air compressor systems come equipped with advanced monitoring and control systems. These systems provide real-time data on various parameters, such as air pressure, temperature, filtration status, and carbon monoxide levels. Operators can use this information to ensure the system is operating within safe limits and take prompt action if any issues arise.

Conclusion: 

 A well-designed and properly maintained breathing air compressor system is crucial for ensuring the safety and well-being of personnel working in hazardous environments. As a reputable breathing air compressor system manufacturer, Trident Pneumatics takes pride in delivering reliable and efficient solutions that adhere to the highest safety standards. Each component is vital in providing a continuous supply of clean and breathable air, from the compressor unit to the monitoring and control system. When selecting a breathing air compressor system, choosing a trusted manufacturer like Trident Pneumatics is essential to ensure the utmost safety and performance in critical work environments.

[trident-3]

Breathing air compressor system manufacturers

Various contaminations which are present in the air are oil, water vapor, carbon monoxide and dirt. Due to the harmful toxic gases in the atmosphere, many workers face health issues related to the lungs and even the heart. To ensure them a healthy space, it is essential to install air dryers or Breathing air compressor system manufacturers your working space.

[adsorptiondryers]

Breathing air compressor system manufacturers

Various contaminations which are present in the air are oil, water vapor, carbon monoxide and dirt. Due to the harmful toxic gases in the atmosphere, many workers face health issues related to the lungs and even the heart. To ensure them a healthy space, it is essential to install air dryers or Breathing air compressor system manufacturers your working space.

[talonabraxas]

Seat of Prana Talon Abraxas

What is Prana?

"He who knows Prana knows Vedas" is the important declaration of the Srutis. You will find in Vedanta Sutras: "For the same reason, breath is Brahman." Prana is the sum total of all energy that is manifest in the universe. It is the sum total of all the forces in nature. It is the sum total of all latent forces and powers which are hidden in men and which lie everywhere around us. Heat, light, electricity, magnetism are the manifestations of Prana. All forces, all powers and Prana spring from the fountain or common source, 'Atman'. All physical forces and all mental forces come under the category 'Prana'. It is the force on every plane of being, from the highest to the lowest. Whatever moves or works or has life, is but an expression or manifestation of Prana. Akasa or ether also is an expression of Prana. The Prana is related to mind and through mind to will, and through will to the individual soul, and through this to the Supreme Being. If you know how to control the little waves of Prana working through the mind, then the secret of subjugating universal Prana will be known to you. The Yogi who becomes an expert in the knowledge of this secret, will have no fear from any power, because he has mastery over all the manifestations of powers in the universe. What is commonly known as power of personality is nothing more than being successful in life, more influential and fascinating than others. It is all due to the power of this Prana. Such people manipulate everyday, unconsciously of course, the same influence which the Yogi uses consciously by the command of his will. There are others who by chance tumble unaware of this Prana and use it for lower purposes under false names. This working of Prana is seen in the systolic and diastolic actions of the heart, when it pumps the blood into arteries in the action of inspiration and expiration during the course of breathing; in the digestion of food; in the excretion of urine and faecal matter; in the manufacture of semen, chyle, chyme, gastric juice, bile, intestinal juice, saliva; in closing and opening of the eyelids, in walking, playing, running, talking, thinking, reasoning, feeling and willing. Prana is the link between the astral and physical body. When the slender thread-link Prana is cut off, the astral body separates from the physical body. Death takes place. The Prana that was working in the physical body is withdrawn into the astral body.

This Prana remains in a subtle, motionless, unmanifested, undifferentiated state during the cosmic Pralaya. When the vibration is set up, Prana moves and acts upon Akasa, and brings forth the various forms. The macrocosm (Brahmanda) and microcosm (Pindanda) are combinations of Prana (energy) and Akasa (matter).

That which moves the steam-engine of a train and a steamer, that which makes the aeroplanes fly in air, that which causes the motion of the breath in lungs, that which is the very life of this breath itself, is Prana. I believe, you have now a comprehensive understanding of the term Prana about which you had a very vague conception in the beginning.

By controlling the act of breathing you can efficiently control all the various motions in the body and the different nerve-currents that are running through the body. You can easily and quickly control and develop body, mind and soul through breath control or the control of Prana. It is through Pranayama that you can control your circumstances and character, and can consciously harmonise the individual life with the cosmic life.

The breath, directed by thought under the control of the will, is a vitalising, regenerating force which you can utilise consciously for self-development; for healing many incurable diseases in your system; for healing others and for other various useful purposes.

It is within your easy reach at every moment of your life. Use it judiciously. Many Yogins of yore, like Sri Jnanadeva, Trailinga Swami, Ramalinga Swami and others, had utilised this breath, this force, the Prana, in a variety of ways. You can also do so, if you practise Pranayama by prescribed breathing exercises. It is Prana that you are breathing rather than the atmospheric air. Inhale slowly and steadily with a concentrated mind. Retain it as long as you can do it comfortably. Then exhale slowly. There should be no strain in any stage of Pranayama. Realise the occult inner life-powers which underlie the breath. Become a Yogi and radiate joy, light and power all around you.

Pranavadins or Hatha Yogins consider that Prana Tattva is superior to Manas Tattva, the mind principle. They say, Prana is present even when the mind is absent during sleep. Hence Prana plays a more vital part than the mind. If you go through the parables in Kaushitaki and Chhandogya Upanishads, when all the Indriyas, mind and Prana fight amongst themselves as to their superiority, you will find that Prana is regarded as the highest of all. Prana is the oldest, for it starts its functioning from the very moment the child is conceived. On the contrary, the organs of hearing, etc., begin to function only when their special abodes, viz., the ears, etc., are formed. Prana is called Jyestha and Sreshtha (oldest and best) in Upanishads. It is through the vibrations of psychic Prana that the life of the mind, Sankalpa or thinking, is kept up and thought is produced. You see, hear, talk, sense, think, feel, will, know, etc., through the help of Prana and therefore Srutis declare: "Prana is Brahman."

SEAT OF PRANA

The seat of Prana is heart. Though the Antahkarana is one, yet it assumes four forms, viz., (i) Manas, (ii) Buddhi, (iii) Chitta and (iv) Ahamkara, according to the different functions it performs. Likewise, though Prana is one, it assumes five forms viz., (1) Prana, (2) Apana, (3) Samana, (4) Udana and (5) Vyana, according to the different functions it performs. This is termed as Vritti Bheda. The principal Prana is called Mukhya Prana. The Prana, joined with Ahamkara, lives in the heart. Of these five, Prana and Apana are the chief agents.

The seat of Prana is the heart; of Apana, the anus; of Samana, the region of the navel; of Udana, the throat; while Vyana is all-pervading. It moves all over the body.

SUB-PRANAS AND THEIR FUNCTIONS

Naga, Kurma, Krikara, Devadatta and Dhananjaya are the five sub-Pranas.

The function of Prana is respiration; Apana does excretion; Samana performs digestion; Udana does deglutition (swallowing of the food). It takes the Jiva to sleep. It separates the astral body from the physical body at the time of death; Vyana performs circulation of blood.

Naga does eructation and hiccup. Kurma performs the function of opening the eyes. Krikara induces hunger and thirst. Devadatta does yawning. Dhananjaya causes decomposition of the body after death. That man is never reborn, whenever he may die, whose breath goes out of the head, after piercing the Brahmarandhra.

THE COLOUR OF PRANAS

Prana is said to be of the colour of blood, red gem or coral. Apana, which is in the middle, is of the colour of Indragopa (an insect of white or red colour). Samana is of the colour between that of pure milk or crystal or of oily and shining colour, i.e., of something between both Prana and Apana. Udana is of Apandura (pale white) colour and that of Vyana resembles the colour of archil (or that of ray of light).

THE LENGTH OF THE AIR-CURRENTS

This body of Vayu is 96 digits (6 feet) in length as a standard. The ordinary length of the air-current, when exhaled is 12 digits (9 inches). In singing, its length becomes 16 digits (1 foot), in eating it comes to 20 digits (15 inches), in sleeping 30 digits (22 inches), in copulation 36 digits (27 inches) and in doing physical exercise it is much more than that. By decreasing the natural length of the expired air-currents (from 9 inches), life is prolonged and by increasing the current, duration of life is decreased.

THE CENTRING OF THE PRANA

Inhaling the Prana from outside, filling the stomach with it, centre the Prana with the mind, in the middle of the navel, at the tip of the nose, and at the toes, during the 'Sandhyas' (sunrise and sunset) or at all times. Thus the Yogi is freed from all diseases and fatigues. By centring this Prana at the tip of the nose he obtains mastery over the elements of the air; by centring at the middle of his navel, all diseases are destroyed; by centring at the toes, his body becomes light. He who drinks air through the tongue destroys his fatigue, thirst and many other diseases. For him who drinks the air with his mouth, during the two Sandhyas and the last two hours of the night, within three months, the auspicious Sarasvati (Goddess of speech) is present in his Vak (speech), i.e., he becomes eloquent and learned. In six months he is free from all diseases. Drawing the air at the root of the tongue, the wise man thus drinking nectar enjoys all prosperity.

[earlofbats]

Chapter 3

The fog rises and creeps across the sand, the air condenses and folds in on itself amorphous and strange, the whispers of creatures, of voices, of ghosts scatter and dissipate with every step that comes near them. 

The two of you are tied to a blind mule, ancient and near death. Sunrise was fortunate to spook easily, spared from the sentence, a good horse left to be inherited by Madre and his men. The mule in contrast has little else to live for other than to walk your corpses into the edge of the world. You and Kim held tightly by rope, back to back. You wander in silence, the echoes of your breath and the alignment of your spines the only sensations you can know to be real. There's a quietness, a tranquility that creeps like ivy and sticks like nettle to the corners of your consciousness,It is difficult to ascribe meaning or form to the shapeless existence that lies just before you. You know from the memory of the distant horizon that it looks like dissipation, stretching and melting up into the sky.  It does not feel like this, it would be technically accurate to say it feels like nothing but nothing does not help describe the experience, in the way people say that water has no flavor so too does the pale have no texture, no sensation, other than the flavor of water, the sensation beyond that which our senses are able to understand, a human mind is not built to comprehend the lack of comprehension the lack of anything. In that you could say it feels of dissipation, of melting,  of breaking down into parts beyond the physical, left without a body, skin, flesh, bone, no nervous system, no brain, only the intangible nothingness that is the space inside our own minds. That nebulous manufactured idea of the idea of. But Kim is weeping. You don’t know how you know this, The fog you note has disappeared; there is no visual input, no input at all.  You yourself are not even sure of yourself in any sense, the voices, the demons that typically haunt your every waking moment are seeping out from you and into the nothingness around you. You figure that you must be dissolving, for nothing other than a lack of a better understanding. You realize at some moment, hundreds of years after the thought had popped into existence that this is a horrible and terrible way to die. 

That the idea of heaven, of an existence that is everlasting, that the conception of forever is the worst thing to ever be conceived of. At some point even further into infinity, the weeping stops. You had initially felt that the weeping was the greatest torture you could be subjected to, cursed to exist in the pain youve caused forever echoing, overwriting everything that was or would ever be. But its the silence after the harm that truly condemns you to hell. A hell you live in forever. Until there is - no conception - None whatsoever,

the perception of time, of existence, Nothing Just - 

If nothingness is hard, existence is cruelty.

An oppressive behemoth that you must crumple to your feet in awe of.

You try your best to shield Kim's body as you crash against the dirt, the fog around you recedes and all you are left with is earth and the never ending speckled mass of the cosmos.

Tonight there is a beautiful night sky and you are alive.

[randoimago]

Day 11 - Soulmates

Fandom: Nier: Automata

Character(s): 9S

Type of Request: 31 Days of Oc-trope-r

Note(s): I love 9S so much and I hope I did a good job with writing this!!

9S knows that androids have fallen in love with each other. He's seen it on the ship and in the Resistance camp. But he doesn't know if he believes in the idea of a soulmate, someone destined to be with you from the beginning. Humans had them, but humans also had souls. Can a machine really have a soul? He doesn't know.

Yet anytime he goes to the Resistance camp, anytime he locks eyes with yours, it feels like a shared connection. Like his mind and body want to force him closer to you. They want to make him reach out and touch you (something that is very concerning, and he would never want to actually randomly grab someone)

But he's never had a reason to talk to you. he's never had a reason to walk away from 2B to approach you. But his eyes would wander in your direction and more often than not, your eyes meet his. As if you might feel this bizarre connection too.

He gets irritated, acts a bit short with 2B at times. And it's not her fault. She's following her directives; she's doing as the mission commands, and he wants to go to you instead.

So, he does something that logically makes no sense to do. He hacks and destroys the piece of technology you're working on. You don't get hurt, but he sees you jump and feels so much guilt that he is the one that caused that small scare.

The next time they go to the Resistance camp, he's thrilled that you call out. That you ask 2B for help getting specific parts to fix your tech. 9S offers to stay behind. He'll see if he can provide any assistance with his hacking background.

2B hesitates with the idea for a moment, he knows why she does, she might need to kill him after all. But she leaves him alone with you. And that pull, that odd craving-like feeling he has, grows stronger. Is it because you two are so close? He doesn't know, but he hopes it doesn't jeopardize anything with you.

9S looks over the tech, he knows he messed it up bad, but he wants to see what repairs you might've made or hear what you tried doing instead. He reaches for a wire the same time you do and you both touch.

And that pull he felt, that craving? It's gone and now he feels relief. So much relief and happiness like everything is complete and he's running diagnostics because this is so much artificial emotion that he is suddenly feeling from just brushing his manufactured skin against yours.

But you feel it too. He heard your "breath" hitch, he sees you place a hand to your chest, as if you're checking your own systems. And then you hesitate and hold his hand in yours and he feels happy. Not an overwhelming amount when he initially touched you, but happy that you weren't afraid of the initial touch and now you're initiating your own.

There's a shared laugh between you two and he wants to talk about what just happened, but he's interrupted with a message from 2B. 9S gives you an apologetic smile as he responds to her and is a bit upset that she's on her way back.

He continues looking over the tech with you, no longer shying when your hands brush against each other. It's just hand touches, sometimes your arms brush together due to your closeness. And he likes it so much.

2B comes back with the parts you need, and she noticeably sees how much happier 9S is. How he isn't as snappy he had been with her. Although there's some sadness in his eyes that he has to leave your side. 2B says that they still have a mission to complete, but they will come back to see how your technology is doing. That cheers up 9S and you. And before her and 9S can leave, you pull him into a hug.

9S stiffens at first but hugs you back. It's like a breath of fresh air as he feels you so close to him. 2B lightly clears her throat and he pulls away, bashfully. He didn't know if he believed in soulmates beforehand, but he knows that he has found his.

[usafphantom2]

He Fell from an SR-71 at 78,000ft! #shorts youtube.com/shorts/2ZMMrna… via @YouTube

DURING THE EARLY DAYS OF TESTING FOR THE LEGENDARY SR-71 BLACKBIRD, THERE WERE SOME HARROWING MISHAPS, THE DETAILS OF WHICH HAVE RARELY COME TO LIGHT.

ON JANUARY 25, 1966, TEST PILOT BILL WEAVER AND LOCKHEED FLIGHT TEST RECONNAISSANCE AND NAVIGATION SYSTEMS SPECIALIST JIM ZWAYER EXPERIENCED THEIR PLANE VANISHING AROUND THEM WHILE EXECUTING A TURN… AT MORE THAN 2,400 MILES PER HOUR.

The most memorable flight occurred on Jan. 25, 1966. Jim Zwayer, a Lockheed flight test reconnaissance and navigation systems specialist, and I were evaluating those systems on an SR-71 Blackbird test from Edwards AFB, Calif. We also were investigating procedures designed to reduce trim drag and improve high-Mach cruise performance. The latter involved flying with the center-of-gravity (CG) located further aft than normal, which reduced the Blackbird’s longitudinal stability.

We took off from Edwards at 11:20 a.m. and completed the mission’s first leg without incident. After refueling from a KC-135 tanker, we turned eastbound, accelerated to a Mach 3.2 cruise speed, and climbed to 78,000 ft., our initial cruise-climb altitude.

Several minutes into the cruise, the right engine inlet’s automatic control system malfunctioned, requiring a switch to manual control. The SR-71’s inlet configuration was automatically adjusted during supersonic flight to decelerate airflow in the duct, slowing it to subsonic speed before reaching the engine’s face. This was accomplished by the inlet’s center-body spike translating aft, and by modulating the inlet’s forward bypass doors. Normally, these actions were scheduled automatically as a function of Mach number, positioning the normal shock wave (where air flow becomes subsonic) inside the inlet to ensure optimum engine performance.

Without proper scheduling, disturbances inside the inlet could result in the shock wave being expelled forward–a phenomenon known as an “inlet unstart.”

The ejection seat had never left the airplane; I had been ripped out of it by the extreme forces, seat belt, and shoulder harness still fastened.

“Can I help you?” a voice said. Did I hear things? I must be hallucinating. Then I looked up and saw a guy walking toward me, wearing a cowboy hat. A helicopter was idling a short distance behind him. If I had been at Edwards and told the search-and-rescue unit that I would bail out over the Rogers Dry Lake at a particular time, a crew couldn’t have gotten to me as fast as that cowboy pilot had.

The gentleman was Albert Mitchell, Jr., owner of a vast cattle ranch in northeastern New Mexico. I had landed about 1.5 mi. from his ranch house–and from a hangar for his two-place Hughes helicopter

Bill Weaver was an SR 71 test flight pilot; he survived the crash. There were problems with the Faceplate on his helmet that needed to be corrected.. At 80,000 feet the temperature outside is -65°. Which is near the maximum altitude of a potential bail-out.

Bill Weaver was unable to see out of his face plate because of the ice buildup. An ejection out of the world's fastest man-breathing airplane is scary enough but not being able to see is terrifying!

@Habubrats71 via X TAP ARROW BUTTON BELOW TO VIEW 😋👇

His face plate was frozen. The result of this accident a heated face plate was manufactured, that required a battery pack and that worked.

There were several more accidents over the next 20+ years and all of the Air Force officers would survived their ejections. The only unfortunate death occurred to a test pilot who broke his neck.. Mitchell said he’d check on Jim. He climbed into his helicopter, flew a short distance away and returned about 10 min. later with devastating news: Jim was dead. Apparently, he had suffered a broken neck during the aircraft’s disintegration and was killed instantly. Mitchell said his ranch foreman would soon arrive to watch over Jim’s body until the authorities arrived. #HABUBRATS

@Habubrats71 via X

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 13

summary: Charlotte defends the compound as the team races back from across the world.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: ANOTHER LONG ONE, hi new readers! this one is super action packed, I hope you enjoy!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_______________________________________

The air whipped outside the Quinjet as it tore through the midnight skies.

Charlotte gripped the controls, her knuckles white with tension as she soared toward the source of the attack. The roar of the engines drowned out the pounding of her heart as she focused on the task at hand.

"Agent Rossi, you're approaching the enemy aircraft. Be advised, they're heavily armed," a voice crackled through her comm system. “This is an unmarked, unregistered vessel, probably harboring illegal weapons units.”

"Copy that," Charlotte responded, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She adjusted the throttle, guiding the Quinjet with precision as she closed in on the target.

The enemy aircraft came into view, sleek and menacing against the dark backdrop of the sky. Charlotte's eyes narrowed in determination as she assessed the situation. She could see the weapon systems bristling on its hull, unleashing blast after blast at the base of the shield. The ship shook with the force of each blast, but remained steadily airborne. She remained in stealth mode, slowing her speed and stalking closer to the other craft, so close the force of their blasts reverberated through the Quinjet.

"Agent Rossi, you're clear to engage. Stay on target and watch your six," the voice in her ear instructed. “There’s another bird out there, but they’re flying above the radar.”

Charlotte gritted her teeth, her focus sharpening as she maneuvered the Quinjet into position. She could feel the tension building in the silence over comms, the anticipation of the impending clash. The dozen or so agents who worked the night shift had joined those monitoring the team’s mission in the control room, as she’d instructed Calla to orchestrate. They’d secured the main building, so in the event that Charlotte failed and the shields fell, they’d be safe. The team had been contacted and were racing back from their bogus mission on the other side of the world, thankfully not having flown into an ambush, but a distraction. She’d given herself a brief moment to thank God and Thor and anyone else who would listen for their lives, and then returned her attention to the job at hand. They might be unharmed, but they were still over an hour away even at the Quinjet’s top speed. This was up to her. 

With a deep breath, she engaged the Quinjet's weapons systems, locking onto the enemy aircraft with precision. The hum of energy filled the cockpit as she unleashed a barrage of firepower, the blasts streaking through the air toward their intended target.

She hit them dead on. Their ship rocked enough to stop their onslaught on the shield generator, turning their sights on her instead, or at least where they thought she was. Confirming stealth mode was still intact, she let another round rip before they could lock onto the Quinjet. The barrage of shots peppered their hull, smoke almost immediately coming out of their engine, but they remained airborne. The ship was different from the Quinjet, but boasted enough similarities to give Charlotte an idea. She furrowed her brow and ran through her first lesson in flying, merely two days ago. Running through everything Agent Rodriguez said about the makeup and manufacturing of a Quinjet, there was one thing in particular she was hunting for. 

“The engine for the Quinjet model is actually in the center of the aircraft. For most fighter vessels, it’s in the front of the jet, right in the nose. The original thought was that the front of the jet was least likely to be hit, because most attacks come from behind. We took that a step further and embedded the engine, literally, in the middle of the craft. It’s only accessible, even for maintenance, from the inside. This not only gives it an extra layer of protection from any exterior attacks, but allows us to maintenance the Quinjet from the air, if necessary.” 

Bingo. With determination in her eyes, Charlotte pushed the Quinjet to its limits, flying beyond the safety of the shield's perimeter. She could hear the protests of the other agents on the comm, but she tuned them out, focusing solely on her objective.

Charlotte yanked on the controls, pulling the Quinjet sharply to the right, directly in front of their ship. Ignoring the panicked voice coming through her comm system, she locked her sights onto the nose of their ship, taking a gamble. Thumbs squeezing down on the top of the joysticks, she released two short range ballistics directly at them before pulling into a steep climb. She was speeding into the air, putting as much distance as possible between herself and -- BOOM.

A massive explosion sent shockwaves through the air, jarring the Quinjet. It had worked. The screen showing her a visual from behind the aircraft showed nothing but plumes of smoke and fire billowing from where she’d hit their engines dead on. 

“One aircraft down, Agent Rossi, nice shot!” The agent’s smile was apparent through her ear, she could hear cheering and high-fives behind him in the control room. She fought back her own smile, relief washing through her. 

“Oh shit, Agent Rossi, roll roll roll!” Exhilaration turned to panic in his voice, for reasons unbeknownst to Charlotte. She listened, pulling the jet into a tight and nauseating side roll maneuver, turning end over end and tumbling to the right. Not a second later, the second ship came tearing down through the air, soaring right through the spot she’d just been. They disappeared down into the smoke, but she knew enough to know she only had seconds before they’d be climbing back. 

“Do we have a read on them?” She fought to keep her voice steady, an effort as she made herself think of every possible option. They could shoot from below, I should climb. No, if I climb, they’ll just follow and shoot from behind and potentially damage the jet. I should follow them down. Best defense is a good offense, right? I think Bucky said that. Or was that Star Wars? She shook her head, forcing herself not to be distracted by the last movie night the team had before their mission. Pushing the controls forward, she steered the jet into a nosedive, taking another gamble for the evening. I’ve always loved a good bet. She thought to herself as her stomach began to flip. 

“Anything on radar?” She grit her teeth against the nausea. 

“They’re just above the treeline, banking, and shit they’re climbing, Charlotte you’re on a collision co-” His voice was drowned out by the shrieking of metal on metal and the impact of the other aircraft colliding with the left wing of the Quinjet. Her gamble had been wrong. She’d bet on them going after their fallen ship, retrieving whatever was left of the team she’d just shot down. Wrong. She should have known these people weren’t the sentimental type. They’d just been turning around to come right back for her, and with stealth mode and the smoke, they hadn’t even known they were about to collide. 

"Direct hit on the left wing! Enemy aircraft severely damaged but still operational," the voice relayed. “Stealth mode is down, as well as all ammunition on the left side. You have three jets still active, but navigation will be difficult down two thrusters.” 

“You could say that,” Charlotte murmured, pulse quickening as she tried to regain control of the ship, spinning out of control. The other ship, barely visible through the smoke, appeared to be doing the same thing. The damage was more extensive on their hull, a massive fissure snaking through the windshield and heavy damage to the entire front of the ship. She wasn’t sure how it didn’t destroy the engine completely, but she chalked it up to bad luck and refocused herself, attempting to lock onto their location with her sights. It was proving to be even more difficult with the minimal control she had over the Quinjet. 

“Fuck it,” She squeezed down onto the triggers, sending a barrage of shots blindly ahead. Enough of them found the windshield to completely shatter it, but not before she clocked two things. First, the hatch at the top of the aircraft opening and ejecting the pilot into the smoke above. Second, the now-empty jet flying directly at her. 

Her focus was suddenly shattered by the blaring alarms in her cockpit. She glanced at the monitor and her heart sank as she saw the shield generator's energy levels plummeting rapidly. There was a multi-ton aircraft gunning for her in a suicide mission, she had about 30% steering capacity and her shields were failing. Thirty percent would have to do. She yanked hard on the controls, pulling left with everything she had, relying on the remaining thrusters to move her. The Quinjet made a pitifully slow turn to the let, engines screaming. It was enough to get her out of the direct collision course, but only the cockpit. The other aircraft crashed into the side of her ship, effectively destroying the other jets. 

“Charlotte!” Calla’s voice called through the comm system, gutteral and panicked. She didn’t have time to think, to plan, to assess. She only had time to suck in a labored breath and pray the harness around her chest kept her from being ejected as she Quinjet plummeted to the ground. She closed her eyes as the treeline rushed up to meet her, catching a glimpse as the jet tumbled end over end towards the ground. A small, tinny voice said, “Initiating impact minimization protocol.” 

First, she felt it in her chest. The feeling of freefalling suddenly being replaced by a bone-crushing impact. The loudest, most deafening noise she’d ever heard followed by haunting silence. Taking a breath felt like lifting a semi-truck off of herself. 

“Agent Rossi?” The voice was cautious, but it was there. She heard it. She heard it. Charlotte wasn’t well versed in religion, but she was pretty sure comm systems didn’t reach to Heaven or Hell or wherever she was destined to go. 

“Nhmm,” She groaned, cracking an eye open. She was suspended by the harness around her chest, still somehow in her seat, dangling at an angle over the shattered glass of the cockpit. Limbs and greenery were visible below her. Attempting to look around, she felt something hold her head in place. She went to feel around for it, but realized something restrained her arms too. Opening both eyes, fighting the burning sensation from the smoke, she glanced down. Thick, neoprene straps had extended from the seat to bind her to it. One around her forehead, preventing her neck from snapping forward. Two around her shins, two around her wrists, all in addition to the criss-crossing straps across her chest. If it weren’t for this maneuver, she’d likely be skewered on the branch jutting into the cockpit below her. 

“Thank God, okay, you landed outside the shield but you aren’t far. Both enemy aircraft are down, we’ll send someone to come retrieve you.” 

“No,” She grumbled, tasting blood in her mouth. Even the extensive impact protection hadn’t been able to keep her from nearly biting through her lip. 

“Pardon, Agent Rossi?” 

“Don’t come, s’not safe. Other pilot ejected, he’s still alive.” 

"Agent Rossi, the shield took heavy fire, we're at critical levels," Calla’s voice sounded in her ear, gentle but concerned. “We need to get out there and repair it in case of another attack.”

Charlotte hesitated, weighing the risks in her mind. "Negative. S’too dangerous. I'll handle it," she responded firmly, spitting blood out below her.

"But Charlotte, you’re—"

"I got it," Charlotte interrupted, her voice curt as she writhed against the straps. "Just tell me how to get out of this straight jacket.”

The agent’s reserved voice came back in her ear. “You have to instruct the jet to withdraw impact minimization protocol, but Agent Rossi, I’d advise you to be specific about only withdrawing one side at a time so you don’t—"

“Withdraw impact minimization protocol,” Charlotte grunted. Instantaneously, all the straps withdrew and she tumbled to the ground, landing with a crunch on limbs and broken glass. 

“Okay,” She climbed to her feet, grimacing as she cracked her neck. “I deserved that one,”

“You’re about one hundred yards out from the edge of the shield. Your suit has our security coding embedded in it, so you should be able to pass right through. The generator is directly inside.” 

“Copy that,” She kept her voice low as she knelt to crawl through the gap between the broken windshield and the ground. 

As Charlotte emerged from the wreckage of her downed Quinjet, she took a moment to assess her surroundings. The night air was thick with tension, and the former sounds of battle had been replaced by a thick silence. Despite the bruises that blossomed across her ribs and the undoubted glass shards peppering her leg, Charlotte forced herself to push through the pain. With each step, she drew closer to the edge of the shield, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger.

Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the underbrush, and before she could react, her assailant lunged at her from the shadows. Instinct kicked in, and Charlotte deftly sidestepped his attack, countering with a swift strike to his midsection. He grunted and doubled over, taking a step of retreat before righting himself. She lowered herself in a defensive position, waiting for him to make a move. Eyes flicking down his body, she didn’t see any weapons, to her shock. They must not have expected to encounter any close range combat, which made sense, considering they planned their entire attack in the dead of night after drawing out all the Avengers. Not so luckily for them, close range was her favorite.

Her opponent was dressed in an all-black flight suit, a mask extending over his mouth. He probably had about fifty pounds on her, but was slowed down by the cumbersome suit. Finally, he lunged at her with a heavy jab that she easily dodged. He advanced, throwing a series of punches that she danced around, retreating carefully but quickly through the brush. With each exchange, Charlotte analyzed her opponent's fighting style, committing his moves to memory with a keen eye. Just like always, it felt like a key in a lock. A few moments later, the predator became the prey. Her head snapped up from where she’d been watching his body and locked onto his face. He must have seen the bloodlust gleam in her eyes because his own widened. She kicked directly for his left side, one she’d noticed he was favoring. Sure enough, his arm was slow to raise and didn’t block her in time. Her boot collided with the side of his face, sending it snapping to the right. Her momentum carried her in the same direction, where she planted her foot and sent her right elbow back into his jaw, snapping it back. Finishing it off with a knee right between his legs, he sucked in a breath before tumbling backwards onto the ground. She fidgeted with the various pouches on her utility belt, trying to remember where there was a set of nanotech cuffs that would keep him here while she repaired the shield. She wasn’t above killing someone who’d likely had the same intentions for her, but she figured he might have useful information and she’d leave that for the others to determine when they got back. 

The man on the ground in front of her grunted—no, chuckled. “Cut off one head, and two more will take it’s place.” He flicked a tooth loose and bit down. “Hail…Hydra.” He choked out as foam began to fill his mouth. 

Charlotte took a jarred step back, fumbling for footing. She had come face to face with a Hydra agent for the first time since escaping captivity. Bile rose up in her throat and she fought the urge to vomit, even as her shoulders began to tremble. She was vaguely aware of a voice ringing in her ear, but it sounded a million miles away. She fought to return to it.

“Agent Rossi, do you copy?” 

“Yes,” Even her voice trembled. “Yes, I’m here.” 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” She lied, clenching her fists to keep her hands from shaking. Finally tearing her eyes from the body in front of her, she turned and continued on her path. 

As Charlotte reached the edge of the shield, she felt a surge of relief wash over her. With the technology embedded in her combat suit, she was able to pass through the barrier seamlessly, although the hum was significantly louder than usual, indicating the effort the generator was expending just to keep this part of the shield operational. She picked up her pace, making the final few steps to the sleek, small building where the generator was housed.

“I’m here,” She paused outside the door, hearing the locks whir and click until the deadbolt opened with a thud. 

“It should be ready to open.”

In her ear, Calla's voice guided her through the process of repairing the damaged generator, her instructions clear and concise. Thankfully, everything needed to repair the generator was stored in that building, in the event of an emergency situation just like this one. Charlotte sent up another wave of thanks to the Powers That Be that people smarter than her were in charge of this operation. As she clicked the panel back into place on the side of the generator, she heard the loud whine of the shield fade to a dull hum, the sign that it was no longer on the brink of failure. 

“Shield Alpha appears to be working at 95% capacity,” The agent’s grin was back in his voice. “98%...100%. Fantastic work, Agent Rossi.” She allowed herself a relieved smile as she heard the cheers in the background. 

“Charlotte, we’re sending a medical cart out to meet you. Stay where you are.” Calla’s voice came back online. “You did it. You did it.” 

“Wait,” She waved her hand at no one in particular, stepping back outside into the cool night air. “There’s something else I need to do.” Her steps felt labored as she worked up to a jog, heading right back in the direction she’d come from. Right back towards the downed aircrafts. 

“Charlotte…Char, where are you going?” Calla’s voice was tight. “There’s nothing else on the radar, you got them all.” 

She didn’t respond, conserving her tight breath to maintain her urgent jog. Blood pounded in her ears as the crash site same into view, the ship still lightly smoking. The Hydra ship. 

“Agent Rossi? Your suit’s vital readings are dropping, you’re losing blood.” The agent’s voice had lost its cheeriness from a moment ago, the room quiet behind him. “You need to come back, get a medical evaluation,” 

“It can wait.” Twigs crunched under her feet as she approached the ship, smoke burning her eyes and nose. Sure enough, her left leg felt warm and damp, surely from the glass embedded in it. She wanted more than anything to pull the jagged pieces free, to stop the stinging peppered up her body, but she knew pulling them out would lead to even more blood loss. She didn’t have time for that. 

“Charlotte, what the hell are you doing?” Calla’s voice was stern now, authoritative. 

She grit her teeth. “They were Hydra.” Silence on the other end of the comm system. “Hydra vessels are all equipped with self-destruct features, timed for thirty minutes after the pilot goes offline. The whole ship will blow up and we won’t have anything to show for it, no intel, nothing. I have to get something, anything.” 

Calla must have heard the urgency, the desperation for answers in her voice. “Okay,” More of a pause as Charlotte reached the aircraft. “We’re at minute twenty four and counting Charlotte. I don’t want you anywhere near that ship when it blows, do you hear me? That is an order. If you get to sixty seconds left on the clock, I want you gone, I don’t care what you get.” 

“Deal,” Charlotte murmured, knowing full well that she wasn’t leaving without what she came for. She crawled into the open side of the ship, ripped apart by the collision with the Quinjet, careful to avoid the jagged metal and wires still sparking. The interior was modern, but the technology wasn’t nearly as sleek as anything from the compound. She swiftly made her way to the instrument panel, seeking out a place to dock the data mining device she tugged from her utility belt. The belt on her suit was the slightly more rudimentary version of Natasha’s, largely due to Charlotte not knowing the full extent of technology at her disposal. Her belt was full of what Tony had recommended she use, insisting Natasha would give her instructions. Ordinarily, the belt would sit forgotten in her equipment locker. It just happened to have been on the suit from the last training simulation, where she threw it on for the hell of it. She sent a third round of thanks up into the universe for that lucky break. 

Pulling the small black device free, she flipped the cover open and plugged it into the ship’s console. It resembled a standard USB device, but from what she understood, it had the capability to hack into just about any computer system, decrypt and download all the files, as well as infect the system with a nearly undetectable malware that would grant SHIELD access indefinitely. Something that could prove very handy if she could get the information to download just a little faster. 

“Charlotte…” Calla’s voice warned. “Minute twenty six.” 

“It’s downloading now,” Her brows furrowed as the little red progress bar inched along the device’s screen. 50%...60%...come on…

As the device worked, Charlotte scanned the interior of the aircraft, looking for anything else that might be useful. Spotting a small roll of documents, she crossed the cockpit, her movements swift and sure despite the pain throbbing in her side. With each passing moment, she could feel her strength waning, but she refused to yield, driven by a sense of duty, determination, and a hell of a lot of spite. She tucked the rolled documents into her belt, intending to look at them later, and knelt down in front of the device again. 80%. 

“Charlotte, you’re at minute twenty eight. You better be ready to get the hell out of there.” There was a hint of panic in Calla’s voice. 

“Believe me, I’m ready.” Charlotte murmured, eyes locked on the device. All she had to do was take it out, run through the opening, and veer left towards the closet tree. If she could get behind that, she would have enough cover to keep moving away from the detonation—

“Minute twenty nine. Charlotte, time to go.” 

Charlotte’s eyes remained locked on the device. 90%.

“Agent Rossi, I am giving you an order. Get the hell out of there.” 

95%. 

“Charlotte, please, for the love of—”

100%.

“I got it!” Charlotte cried, half in panic and half in relief. She yanked the device free from the console and gripped it so tightly it bit into her palm. She limped to the opening and all but threw herself through it, stumbling on the brush but steadying herself before beginning to run. She’d gotten all of ten yards away when her heavy, bleeding leg snagged on a fallen limb, sending her tumbling down before she could catch herself. Instinct took over as she rolled into the tumble, putting more distance between herself and the explosion. The tree was still another twenty yards away, and at this point she knew she had less than ten seconds.

“Calla,” She willed steadiness into her tone. “Ping my coordinates, now. I’m holding the drive with the data and I need someone to come get it when the blast clears. I’ll protect it, but the fire—”

“Charlotte!” She heard the break in her newest friend’s voice and tried not to think about it as she braced for fire and shrapnel and the inevitable end. How ironic, that she’d escape Hydra and make it all the way to the United States, to the Avengers’ Compound, no less…and they’d still be the reason she died. In her final prayer out into the ether, she begged, pleaded with whoever was listening that the information she’d gotten would be worth it. That it would be worth the end of her short, tragic life. She held onto that hope in her final moments. 

Then it hit her. 

Well, something hit her. Not a wave of heat and debris, but something warm and solid. A body. 

Before she could process what was happening, the rest came. The heat crashed around her like a tidal wave, smoke filling her lungs and burning her eyes, even as she clenched them tightly shut. She felt the ground shake and heard the ground peppered with fallen scraps of metal. It was deafening, all encompassing. Then, it was just…over. 

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, body curled into the smallest fetal position she could manage. Her limbs were squeezed so tightly together that they ached. It was a labor to take a breath between the smoke she’d inhaled and the bruises on her ribs from her own crash landing. So she laid still, afraid even her slightest movement would trigger more. More explosions, more Hydra, more fear. 

After several long moments had passed, she felt the presence behind her, wrapped around her body, begin to move. It slowly uncurled from behind her, a low groan filling the otherwise silent air. A familiar groan. Charlotte whipped her head around, pushing up onto her hands. 

Bucky. 

Covered in dirt and blackened from the smoke, he sat up onto his knees, letting Cap’s shield fall to the ground beside him. His breathing was heavy, but she couldn’t see any blood, any protruding bones. He was okay. Her eyes raked over him, struggling to process that he was in front of her in the first place, let alone in one piece. Unless…was she dead? No. Surely her body wouldn’t feel like such complete and utter shit if she was dead. Plus — why would Bucky be here?

“Wh—” She opened her mouth to speak, but a coughing fit interrupted her, immediately turning into a groan as she gripped her abdomen, nearly doubling over at the pain. 

“We need aerial pickup in the woods outside the generator, my coordinates. Get medical ready, tell them we have an incoming Avenger.” 

Her eyes flicked up to him at the last word, surprise lighting them up. His face was a standard mask of annoyance mixed with…was that relief? Blue eyes trailed over her body before meeting hers once again. He regarded her for a moment before speaking again. 

“So when were you gonna tell me you learned to fly a Quinjet?”

_______________________________

As the Quinjet soared through the night sky, Captain America and Black Widow sat in the cockpit, their expressions tense as they listened to the live feed from the SHIELD agents at the compound.

“Minute twenty nine. Charlotte, time to go.” 

The entire atmosphere of the team was somber, panicked. They’d been sent halfway across the world for a bullshit mission, only for one of their own to be in the face of imminent death defending their home. They’d gotten the distress call a little over an hour ago and had raced home. Even the Quinjet’s top speed couldn’t get them there as quickly as they wanted to be. 

"She's in trouble," Natasha said, her voice tight with worry as she glanced at the monitor displaying the compound's perimeter. “We're not going to make it in time."

Steve's jaw clenched as he nodded, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I know," he replied, his voice heavy with concern. "But she’ll get out…she’ll get out." No one could tell if he was comforting Natasha or himself, or if he even believed what he was saying. As he spoke, Steve couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that gnawed at him. It was an impossible situation, but no good would come from telling the team that. 

"We have to do something," the agent on their ship’s comm system pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. "She's not going to make it."

Nat’s jaw clenched as she urged the jet faster, though they both knew it would be no help. She was down to only a minute left.

"Steve," Bucky spoke from where he stood behind Steve, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation. "I need to borrow the shield."

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone processed his words. Natasha's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Steve's expression remained impassive as he unhooked his shield and handed it over without hesitation. Without another word, Bucky moved to the side door hatch and threw it open, wind whipping through the interior.

“Barnes!” Nat yelled, her voice drowned out by the slipstream. “What the hell are you doing!?” Behind her, Wanda and Peter clung to the straps on their seats, Sam looking like he was going to be sick. All of their eyes locked warily on Bucky.

Sparing one glance over his shoulder, Bucky met Steve’s eyes. “She needs help.” 

And then he jumped. 

[goatsludge]

Longtime lurker, hoping you can help me out.

I'd like to purchase a gas mask that is available for say...under $200-300...and compatible with aiming a rifle?

Can you suggest a couple of models that are affordable and easily obtainable?

I'm also (seperately) looking for a low cost self-contained (battery driven supllied air) full-face respirator for painting or spaying pesticides but the cost of the 3M system has kept me from taking the plunge. I find half masks or disposables really uncomfortable to breath through. Any suggestions?

That depends on a lot of things - let's start with the most important one, are you wanting to buy new or are you experienced enough to know what to look out for with surplus items?

Assuming you live in the U.S., imo the best option for most tactically-inclined individuals are ex-police Avon C50's; They sit smack dab in the middle of the pricepoint you described (going for $250+ on average) and they meet 80% of the criteria for what I personally believe a modern "tactical" mask (not just military) should encompass:

Panoramic eyelens with a wide ecosystem of lens outserts

Optical insert capability

Comms and/or Voice Amplifier-Capable

Mesh skullcap-type head harness with low-profile buckles for helmet integration

Butyl rubber and glass-filled nylon construction

Common, standardized drinking adapter

Threaded for Rd40x1/7" NATO Canisters for greater flexibility of protection (i.e.; using canisters intended for specific threats instead of just general purpose CBRN)

Left and right-hand capable side ports

Interchangeable inner nosecups for custom sizing based on individual facial ergonomics The only thing it really lags behind in is having poor passive voice communication (no voice diaphragm, just the outlet valve), as well as poor moisture drainage (you will have to lean forward to drain any sweat, spit, etc out the outlet valve rather than it draining naturally)

All gas masks are generally going to put you at a disadvantage as far as aiming a rifle, and even masks designed for improved rifle ergonomics like the Avon FM53/54 still give a massive amount of stand-off when attempting to look down your sights, so I'd definitely hop on the bandwagon of tall optic risers if gas mask usage is a legitimate consideration.

Other excellent surplus options include the older Avon FM12, Scott/Kemira M/95 (or more realistically, the Scott M110 if you can find them; the M/95's drinking system is hard to get adapters for), or even MSA Millennium or surplus M40A1 Protective Masks are all viable options with a fair amount of aftermarket support. As far as buying newly-manufactured masks, you're going to be cutting above the $300 mark - Avon sells their C50 (and FM50, which is the same but with proprietary cartridges) at an MSRP of $500

Mira Safety is a brand you've likely heard of, who are mostly known as a redistributor of gas masks manufactured for them by Czech firm Gumarny Zubri. Mira as a company is incredibly underhanded and shady - they make a lot of false claims about who they sell to and the capability of their products, and not to mention their ad campaigns are the most blatantly mudslinging/misinformed.

Objectively the only thing that Mira/GuZu masks really shine at is having slightly higher quality rubber and superior passive voice comms and downward moisture drainage over Avon designs. They fail at basically every other aspect. However, they do work and they are cheaper if buying brand-new masks is a requirement for you.

I sadly don't have many suggestions as far as commercial/industrial PAPR units - I know a lot of those are surplussed by the pharmaceutical/medical industry, so I'd browse options, get to know them and spend time obsessively browsing ebay for various models and knowing how to tell when they're complete and serviceable.

Oh and one last thing -

P3-rated Particulate Filters are your best friend if all you realistically expect to face off against is tear gas and nuisance dusts. Particulate filters don't really expire since there's basically no chemicals that break down and can be stored almost indefinitely provided there's no moisture to foul the filter element.

40mm threaded P3 cartridges made by 3M, Racal, MSA etc are super common on the industrial surplus market and can be had in bulk for reasonably cheap, especially as "expired" lots.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Sean Durns

The United States is facing a munitions crisis. America’s defense industrial base is a shadow of its former self, and conflicts in the Middle East and Ukraine have fed growing concerns about a rapidly depleting stockpile. Fortunately, our ally Israel has a potential solution.

The risk is clear: Were a major war to break out with China, the U.S. might well run out of munitions within the first few weeks of combat operations. Wars in Europe and the Middle East have already put pressure on an already stressed defense industrial base. And policymakers have taken notice.

In January 2023, Secretary of the Navy Carlos Del Toro warned that if the U.S. defense industry didn’t boost production, arming both the U.S. and Ukraine would become “challenging.” Indeed, the U.S. is in such dire need of munitions that it has dipped into stockpiles in South Korea and Israel, among other places, to help arm Ukraine.

Various factors have contributed to the munitions shortage: bureaucratic red tape, a decline in the number of prime contractors, and a budget and appropriations process that discourages upfront investments that are necessary to strengthen the defense industrial base. It is a problem that won’t be fixed overnight. 

But Israel has pointed to a temporary solution that can help.

The Israeli government intends to ramp up its domestic manufacturing of important armaments, including munitions. In so doing, Israel will gain greater self-reliance, and the U.S. will get some much-needed breathing room to focus on its own munitions needs.

In January 2024, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said that the Jewish state is “preparing the defense industries to disconnect from dependency on the rest of the world.” Netanyahu noted the recent war with Hamas had resulted in surging defense spending and that the Israeli government “will have to invest in a multi-year plan to free Israel from dependence on external purchases.” It would be, he acknowledged, a vast and costly undertaking. 

Yaakov Lapin, an Israel-based military affairs correspondent, recently highlighted that “Israel has begun shifting toward greater domestic ammunition production.” Israel’s Ministry of Defense has already begun reaching out to local defense companies to boost production. Artillery shells, sophisticated guided air-to-ground munitions, and interceptors for Israel’s vaunted Iron Dome are all slated to be built domestically.

Yet not everything can be produced on Israeli soil. Numerous weapons systems used by Israel, including aircraft, will continue to be manufactured in the U.S., giving Americans jobs. And revolutionary defense technology developed in Israel with U.S. assistance, such as the Iron Dome, is often shared with Americans.

Israel’s decision to bring some production home will create jobs for Israelis. It will also make them less reliant on the U.S. The Jewish state faces a precarious security environment, virtually surrounded by Iranian-backed proxies that seek its destruction. By having key armaments on hand, Israel will be better prepared for future battles and future wars. It will also grant greater flexibility to Israeli decision-makers.

The U.S. stands to benefit too.

By having key allies step up and take on more of the defense burden, Washington will be able to focus on growing threats in the Indo-Pacific. 

[tridentpneumatics]

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[trident-3]

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[porterdavis]

Australia’s first hydrogen car comes to market, complete with charging stations in just 5 minutes. The car travels 900 kilometers with the tank full and purifies the air as it moves forward. For the first time, hydrogen fuel cell technology is being applied serialized in a commercial car and, above all, it allows for such important autonomy, with very reduced charging times.

This is Hyundai Nexo, a small-cylinder car that beats all car manufacturers in the world and sets a sustainability record, with a charge of 6.27 kilograms of hydrogen that purifies 449,100 liters of air during e The journey (as much as the consumption of breathing of 33 people for a whole day) and it only emits water down your exhaust pipe. This car produces no CO2 or other polluting emissions; just think that an equivalent vehicle, with a traditional combustion engine, emits about 126 kg of CO2 at the same distance.

The hydrogen engine thus enters the automobile market and intends to join the electric one among the sustainable mobility solutions the world is adopting. Hyundai thus becomes the first automaker in the world to produce a hydrogen fuel cell vehicle for the market. The car is equipped with a hydrogen fuel cell system that, to generate electricity, passes the gas through a membrane structure where it meets the air taken from the external environment, a process that feeds an electric motor. The excess electricity generated, including energy stored during braking, is stored in a lithium-ion battery. Reposting the next takes 5 min.

The first country to put the car on sale was Australia, where the first gas stations were also built. A true vision of a sustainable future.

Science & Technology

Wow, I wondered what had happened to this technology. When I first entered the securities business in 1980, Ballard Power was a hot stock. They had the patents and the product -- hydrogen-powered electric engines, but never reached commercial status. Eventually they dropped off the radar entirely. If the Aussies have truly made this viable it is a huge deal, bigger than generic electric vehicles (see Tesla).

[banavalope]

after drawing this, i took long enough trying to draw the second half of it i ended up just taking an entire three steps back to consider a lot of larger details. I now have more details than I know what to do with, so I’m just going to call it Starlore and say its a worldbuilding project at this point.

Worldbuilding is more enjoyable for me than writing a plot with some good legs, and I’m embracing that.

Text in image under the following cut for those who would prefer that.

Starlore: a worldbuilding exercise on the existential horros of creativity by me, Banavalope :) Amadeus, Betty, Ace, and Luz are a species of cosmic star beings best described as anthropomorphic personifications. Their home is called Astropa, which is not so much a planet as it is a cumulative of their nearly-endless realm, the Upside.

Despite the name, there is no way to quantify where in non-euclidean space Upside sits relative to Otherside and the Blanket*. Stars - known for having an exaggerated sense of self-importance - feel confident they’ve got it right.

Inherently, stars have an infinite amount of potential, but some facts can be held as true of the whole species: 1.) They are all sexless.** 2.) All stars have wings.*** 3.) “Unexplainable encounters” could be explained if stars admitted to making mistakes. * Three parts to a complete universe completely unrelated to our own - with the exception of a few copied answers, as to be expected. ** Unless they really want to make the effort, of which many do for any reason at all. *** Having wings is the leading cause of common misconceptions for any species. Often assumed to be an indication of the ability to fly, when they are just as easily an identification of the tendency to fall.

Astropa - the birthplace of ideas Anyone native to the Blanket would find the culture of stars incredibly stressful and incomprehensibly complex, were they to learn about it. This would be a correct observation, as stars seem to think they work well under pressure and go about scheduling it into their day.

An eternity spent in this kind of environment have made stars the only species known to effectively harness the most renewable source of energy across the universe: Validation.

In the ancient times of the Starmakers, validation was manufactured by fulfilling miracles blanketside. This was soon found by Timekeepers to be toxic on the environment, necessitating the regulation of wish granting* through the glory duty system**.

Modern day stars now mass produce validation locally and by natural means to meet high demand.

* Giving stars a whole lot less to feel superior over their peers about, ** and at the expense of longer lines at the Department of Miraculous Verisimilitude.

Elemental Anomalies Lucy’s hair reflects their current state of emotion. It maintains a sunny baseline, but has the widest range of expression compared to their siblings.

Ace breathes fire, losing control over it only when he’s incredibly frustrated. Holding it in makes him smoke.

Betty effects the air around her in a reliably straightforward way, under usual circumstances. In circumstances subjectively unusual, any adjective of air is possible.

Amadeus changes color to reflect the intense moods of others, rather than himself. Unfortunately, as everyone has unique colors they feel in, its not particularly helpful.

A variety of advanced technology can be found on Astropa. Holo’s are a versatile piece, commonly used to translate language when stars are blanketside.

Side Facts Some stars find them useful to have on all the time; Amadeus will use his to display closed captions for anyone not versed in sign language if his hearing aid* is out.

It isn’t necessary for stars to eat - or sleep, for that matter - but they do out of enjoyment.

* Which is not often.

Timekeepers A separate classification of anthropomorphic personification to stars are Timekeepers. They reside on a plane outside of spacetime, unimpressively called Timekeeping Affairs HQ.

The main office is reachable by taking the Timeline out of Astropa; there’s only one, and you can’t miss it.

[kuralkara]

Whumperless Whump Event- Day 20

It’s Not Fun If You’re Panicking

Stuck in an elevator/Claustrophobia/”Get me out”

“This isn’t funny. Get me out.”

Despite your words, you could still hear the faint cackle from whomever was on the other side of the doors. Much to your dismay. Yes, this was a rare situation, the logical side of your brain provided, under the noise of the fight or flight over coming the rest of your brain. Elevator failures are rare and the ones that do happen tend to involve the doors failing, or being stuck between floors in the shaft. Likely as a result of debris or some sort of manufacturing error that was subtle enough to pass inspection but present enough to create issues once in use. 

… yeah, actually, that was not helping. You turned in a circle, studying the ceiling. There were no panels out. There was a little vent in the top and bottom of one wall to ensure that there’s consistent airflow even (or maybe especially) if the air systems are on. The door was still stuck in the weird inner door completely open, the exterior door mostly shut pose, giving you a lovely view of the mess of buttons and wires right below the floor that you’d been descending from. 

An ugly layer of dust and oil covered the otherwise flawless last insection date. It wasn’t even last month. Which meant you were really, really unlucky with it. You weren’t going to die in the cramped space, probably. There was probably still a good failsafe or two to prevent the tomb of metal and stupidly floral smelling carpet from plummeting to the basement of the seven story building. Right. You blew a long, slow breath out. 

Maybe if you had a bad enough breakdown, you’d get a seventy-two hour hold. Nice little vacy for your meltdown troubles.

@whumperless-whump-event

[beardedmrbean]

A Russian chess player is under investigation for allegedly attempting to poison another player ahead of a match last week.

Security video shows the chess player Amina Abakarova smearing what is alleged to be mercury on a chess board later used by rival Umaiganat Osmanova.

Osmanova said she began feeling unwell soon later, complaining of nausea and dizziness, and security camera footage of the incident launched a police investigation into Abakarova, an article from Chess.com said.

Attempted poisoning happened during tournament

The incident occurred during a tournament in Russia's Dagestan region on Friday, according to a statement posted to Telegram by Republic of Dagestan sports minister Sazhid Sazhidov. No one else was harmed in the incident, and the tournament is scheduled to be completed Thursday, according to Sazhidov.

"The motives of such an experienced competitor as Amina Abakarova are incomprehensible," Sazhidov said. "The actions she took could have led to a most tragic outcome, threatening the lives of everyone who was present, including herself. Now she must answer for what she did by the law."

The statement was linked to a post by Baza, a Telegram news channel, and included a security video.

Poisoned player shares her experience

"I still feel bad. In the first minutes, I felt a lack of air and a taste of iron in my mouth. I had to spend about five hours on this board. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I hadn’t seen it earlier," Osmanova told Russia Today.

She told the Russian newspaper Izvestia that she saw "some tiny balls" rolling out under her board, and had no idea what it was until she realized it could have been mercury, NBC News reported. That was when she alerted the organizers.

Abakarova has reportedly said she wanted to "knock her opponent out of the tournament," Russian media RTVI reported. A police report quoted by Russian media said Abakarova's plan was to scare Osmanova, not harm her.

Abakarova has now been detained by police and is facing up to three years in jail, according to The Mirror.  Andrey Filatov, the President of the Russian Chess Federation, has also confirmed that Abakarova is temporarily suspended from Russian chess events, pending an investigation into the incident. She is potentially facing a lifetime ban. 

What is mercury poisoning?

Mercury is a naturally occurring element and is a silver liquid at room temperature. It is used in several products, including in manufacturing electronics, and can be found in fish.

Mercury is dangerous for humans to breathe and consume. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry, all forms of mercury can affect the nervous system and kidneys.

If inhaled, mercury can cause permanent lung damage and brain damage, according to the Cleveland Clinic, and large amounts of mercury or long-term exposure can lead to death if not treated.