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aviationanddefence · 10 months

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Global Combat Drone Market report

Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicles are another name for combat drones (UCAVs). Unmanned aerial vehicles, or "combative drones," are utilized for a variety of tasks including target acquisition, surveillance, reconnaissance, and carrying aircraft ordnance, including bombs, missiles, and ATGMs, to hard targets during drone assaults. Usually, a human with autonomy controls these drones in real time. Unlike unmanned surveillance and reconnaissance aerial vehicles, UCAVs are utilized for both drone strikes and battlefield information. There won't be a human pilot on board this type of aircraft. The aircraft is smaller and lighter as a result of not requiring a human pilot or any equipment because it is operated by a remote terminal.

Key drivers of the growth of the combat drone market:

The Global combat drone market report is expanding because of the evolving and sophisticated nature of warfare, despite potential obstacles from the quick development of anti-drone technology. The combat drone market will develop as a result of the evolving, technologically enhanced character of warfare. Many countries are concentrating on the development of unmanned combat aerial vehicles (UCAVs) for counter-insurgency and internal warfare. These vehicles are commonly used to monitor border regions, which are contentious, and can improve security at a minimal cost.

The combat drone market is growing as a result of numerous nations and contractors funding R&D projects aimed at deploying a large number of UCAVs to improve their ability to evade anti-aircraft weaponry and engage in combat with adversarial states. The development of long-range spy combat drones increases the potential prospects for the size of the global combat drone industry. The integration of control, computers, surveillance, computer intelligence, and reconnaissance technologies into UCAVs contributes to their long-range attack potential.

Patterns impacting the Battle- Size of the Drone Market:

According to market estimates for combat drones, the fixed-wing category has the largest share and the fastest compound annual growth rate. The development of complicated delta wing and delta wing unmanned combat aerial vehicles (UCAVs) with enhanced combat capabilities and the ability to fly at extreme speeds is mostly to blame for this, as expenditures in the combat drone sector have increased. Investing nations include the US, China, Israel, Russia, India, and Iran in these types of war vehicles. According to current combat drone industry trends, China is introducing new UCAV variants and employing stealth technologies in unmanned systems. China has stated that the Cai Hong 7 UCAN, which is high altitude, is being developed by the China Academy of Aerospace Aerodynamics (CAAA).

Market Forecast and Dynamics for Combat Drones:

An overview of the combat drone market The expansion of Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicle (UCAV) is being driven by advancements in frameworks and regulations connected to aerial operations, as well as greater usage of UAV in military applications that has led to a spike in UAV use in disaster relief missions.

According to a combat drone market analysis, concerns about drone safety and security as well as a shortage of qualified operators are the main obstacles to the unmanned combat aerial vehicle (UCAV) industry's expansion. Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicles (UCAVs) have greater prospects thanks to ongoing technological advancements in UCAV, which are coupled with artificial intelligence and machine learning. Applications for unmanned aerial vehicles (UCAVs) include directing artillery fire, detecting fighter jet targets with lasers, surveillance, obtaining electronic intelligence, and assessing damage after a strike.

Analysis of the Combat Drone Market for Recent Advancements:

According to Combat Drone Market sources, the South Korean government has accepted a proposal to start producing reconnaissance and surveillance drones by 2031. The purpose of manufacturing and acquiring these drones is to improve the military capabilities of the nation, particularly on the island bordering the northwest. Boeing chose to transform former Lockheed Martin F-16 jet fighters from the US Air Force into manned and unmanned target drones, with a contract value of USD 49.7 million.

According to Combat Drone Market reports, after delaying the American predator drone deal in favor of the Made in India initiative, the Indian government is now thinking about buying an indigenous long-range unmanned aerial vehicle with strike capabilities that is being developed by a private Indian company in collaboration with an Israeli defense manufacturer.

#Global Combat Drone Market report #Global Combat Drone Market #Global Combat Drone Market forecast #Combat Drone Market #Drone Market report #Drone Market forecast

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aviationdefence122 · 1 year

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#combat drone market #combat drone market size #combat drone market forecast #combat drone market report

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admarketingg · 2 years

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Combat Drone Market

Combat Drones are used for surveillance, reconnaissance, intelligence and target acquisition. They carry ATGMs, Bombs and missiles during the hard points of drone attacks.

#Combat Drone #Combat Drone Market

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avedefense · 2 years

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Combat Drone Market

Combat Drones Market are used for surveillance, reconnaissance, intelligence and target acquisition. They carry ATGMs, Bombs and missiles during the hard points of drone attacks.

#Combat drone market #Combat drone

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defensemarketing · 2 years

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Combat Drone Market

Combat Drones market are used for surveillance, reconnaissance, intelligence and target acquisition. They carry ATGMs, Bombs and missiles during the hard points of drone attacks.

#combat drone #combat drone market #millitry drone

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bisrsrch · 2 years

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The advent of artificial intelligence (AI) and its integration with military RAS has the potential to change future warfare. It will help in reducing endangering risks to soldiers, air forces, and marines that possibly result in a generation of less expensive manned systems.

Growing demand to increase warfighter lethality and remove soldiers from dangerous situations is propelling the global military RAS market. The deployment of military RAS focuses on counterinsurgency and counterterrorism operations, with modernization for traditional ground combat receiving less emphasis.

Military robotic and autonomous systems manufacturers are anticipated to enhance payload and propulsion systems, which will result in improved operational capabilities and a shorter development cycle time.

Get free sample report at: https://bisresearch.com/requestsample?id=1442&type=download

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transhuman-priestess · 6 months

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#tumblr polls #polls #horror #cyberpunk #body horror

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fallenmintleaf · 6 days

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Can't get Murder Drones out of my head. Almost like some eldritch code has taken root inside my brain. It's probably fine.

Anyway, headcanons for what the murder trio were before Tessa got them:

J was almost certainly in some corporate position. I like to think she was involved in marketing, since she has all those buzzwords ingrained in her lexicon. Maybe they even had her working with graphic design with her art skills. I also imagine she kinda hates corporate structure. "Bootlicker J" jokes aside, I can't imagine even she would have fun as a (literal) corporate slave, and she definitely enjoys freely speaking her mind: not something that flies very well in corporate and marketing contexts. Maybe she got dumped during some convoluted office politics, maybe she was dumped due to random downsizing, who knows.

N's a bit trickier. We see a lot of dexterity and showmanship from him in the manor. He's quite flashy with the glassware at a few points. He also likes drawing, but is lacking in technical skill, especially compared to J. He's also quite personable and friendly, and also seems to truly admire J in some capacity. As a bonus, Cyn mimics a lot of N's mannerisms, and one of her defining traits is her acting, even specifically playing at "improv" while rebuilding J. Therefore, I think N was in theater/entertainment.

He wasn't necessarily an actor himself: still a robot slave after all. But he likely assisted with a lot of setup. Rehearsals, testing stunts, watching over pets/kids (whether those of actors or actors themselves), etc. He enjoys fancy costumes as well, and he's pretty genre aware. He's probably had his fair share of experience with horror movies/stories. Maybe he got dumped pissing off the wrong famous person, maybe some stunt went wrong and they didn't want to bother repairing him, maybe they just wanted the newest model.

V is tough to decide. She seems to enjoy fighting the most out of all of them, but none of them are really slouches in combat, so I don't think that says much about her past. We don't see much of her in the manor, but the impression she gives is a bit more shy and demure. We see her playing chess in the credits, but one hobby doesn't mean much on its own, especially since chess is a common game to put on computers: probably all of them have chess programs built-in.

With that little to go off of, and her tendency to both act out in outrageous ways and keep herself closed-off, I'm thinking she was probably a menial worker beforehand. Minimal freedom, in a position where she'd best keep her head down. Follow the rules closely in order to keep what little she has. "Do your job and I leave you and N alone" was probably a pretty good deal to V because it was as good or better than her previous work arrangements.

Could be a lot of jobs like that for a robo-slave. But let's have fun with it and extrapolate from her usage of "narc" and her apparent desensitization to violence: she was used by a criminal organization for clean-up duty, and got dumped after being confiscated by authorities.

#murder drones #serial designation j #serial designation v #serial designation n

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spiralnymph · 1 month

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Re: A Word on the Prototyping Process for Rotdolls. Internal Communication.

I hope this message finds you well.

It has come to my attention that there is a bit of confusion among staff regarding the development, prototyping, and testing processes for the SPIRAL (Synthetic Priority-Intensive Reborn Automata Limbsprite) series Rotdoll. This will be a brief overview regarding the questions I found prevalent or important to note.

To start, the transitional candidate must be in a state considered “too far gone,” "incurable" or “irreparable.” This is the number one criteria used when our manufacturers’ scouting contractors are procuring viable product. In fact, we tend to advise them on using those exact keywords. These candidates are rotting, barely functional, and while we cannot “fix” them, we can give them a chance. Once a promising candidate is located, we make contact and gain approval. Then the rebirth can begin.

The sedated Limbsprite is brought in, and we begin taking our protocolar measurements. Stretch out the legs, measure from heel to back of knee. From back of knee to buttocks. Around the widest section of the thigh. Around the knee. Around the widest section of the calf. Around the ankle. Repeat the same pattern on the other limbs; There should be no skipping of the second leg, as these naturally occurring bodies have imperfections and mismatched measurements that must be accounted for in the upgrading/rebirthing process.

Once the measurement phase is complete, our manufacturing drones are utilized in crafting what we call the Reciprocity Vessel Shell, or more commonly the RV-Shell, for the lucky Limbsprites who make it this far. They should consider themselves to have won the lottery! Their Shell will keep them going, as well as allow them to act out fulfilling lives in service to those they are in the possession of. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Next is the programming phase.

Once the Shell has been installed on the fleshwire of the Limbsprite’s exterior, and the necessary processing, function and suppression components (which come with our proprietary firmware pre-loaded) have been implanted into the subject’s brain and body, we can begin the programming process. This stage is the most time intensive, as there has to be a determination made based on the individual unit regarding what services it can or should be put forth to perform.

Maybe this Rotdoll is more suited for deployment in war, or perhaps this one is only to be used for janitorial service. This one is bound for corporate chauffeuring, and this one will be the worlds most efficient espionage and infiltration tool. To draw from a real example, take prototypal batch F; Most, if not all, Rotdolls belonging to batch F were in some capacity suited for direct combat. This, however, is atypical. Most batches are far more diversified in their application potential; Batch H, for instance, contained no two Rotdolls consigned to the same Service. This variance in Rotdoll implementation is something our company (rightfully!) touts above our competitors; It takes a massive amount of expertise to be able to direct such dissimilar units on their individual utilities. Yes, due to this, we have investors hesitant to buy in, given that the demand ebbs and flows depending on the stock we have at any given time, but the investors we do have remain passionate about the work we do here, and know to trust our process, as they have seen the broadly-applicable results.

To continue the process, we reinforce what the Executives have come to call the “Exertive Will.” This is the drive that our SPIRALs (and all Rotdolls broadly) experience that pushes them towards the goal we assign to them. With Rotdolls being more prone to hardware exhaustion, processing fatigue, Wirepain, and the industry-dreaded Techrot than the average automata on the market, we strive to imprint the Exertive Will on our units very early and very concertedly, to ensure that the units we distribute are not doomed to early failure and unmarketability.

I won't get into the weeds on the details of Exertive Will. That is jargon for our engineers to untangle. The purpose of this email is just to clear up some of the disconcertment that seemed to be spreading around among some of our newer employment bracket.

I hope that this was informative, and if you have any further inquiries, please bring them to your floor manager, and they will explain what their (and your) clearance allows.

From the office of

[NAME MISSING]

Gossamer Branch Manager of [LOCATION MISSING]

** This is classified internal communication meant only for the addressees copied on the original electronic mail. Sharing this message or the information therein is a breach of company non-disclosure clauses as well as local law. If you have received this message in error, please respond to this message with your email address and delete correspondence completely.

#745 #rotdolls #empty spaces

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goldsasa · 1 year

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Dear Sirs!

(or have some ladies also signed?)

A few days ago, you, Mr Musk, together with Mr Wozniak, Mr Mostaque and other signatories, published an open letter demanding a compulsory pause of at least six months for the development of the most powerful AI models worldwide.

This is the only way to ensure that the AI models contribute to the welfare of all humanity, you claim. As a small part of the whole of humanity, I would like to thank you very much for wanting to protect me. How kind! 🙏🏻

Allow me to make a few comments and ask a few questions in this context:

My first question that immediately came to mind:

Where was your open letter when research for the purpose of warfare started and weapon systems based on AI were developed, leading to unpredictable and uncontrollable conflicts?

AI-based threats have already been used in wars for some time, e.g. in the Ukraine war and Turkey. Speaking of the US, they are upgrading their MQ-9 combat drones with AI and have already used them to kill in Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq.

The victims of these attacks - don't they count as humanity threatened by AI?

I am confused! Please explain to me, when did the (general) welfare of humanity exist, which is now threatened and needs to be protected by you? I mean the good of humanity - outside your "super rich white old nerds Silicon Valley" filter bubble? And I have one more question:

Where was your open letter when Facebook's algorithms led to the spread of hate speech and misinformation about the genocide of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar?

Didn't the right to human welfare also apply to this population group? Why do you continue to remain silent on the inaction and non-transparent algorithms of Meta and Mr Zuckerberg? Why do you continue to allow hatred and agitation in the social media, which (at least initially) belonged to you without exception?

My further doubt relates to your person and your biography itself, dear Mr Musk.

You, known as a wealthy man with Asperger's syndrome and a penchant for interplanetary affairs, have commendably repeatedly expressed concern about the potentially destructive effects of AI robots in the past. I thank you for trying to save me from such a future. It really is a horrible idea!

And yet, Mr Musk, you yourself were not considered one of the great AI developers of Silicon Valley for a long time.

Your commitment to the field of artificial intelligence was initially rather poor. Your Tesla Autopilot is a remarkable AI software, but it was developed for a rather niche market.

I assume that you, Mr Musk, wanted to change that when you bought 73.5 million of Twitter's shares for almost $2.9 billion in April?

After all, to be able to play along with the AI development of the giants, you lacked one thing above all: access to a broad-based AI that is not limited to specific applications, as well as a comprehensive data set.

The way to access such a dataset was to own a large social network that collects information about the consumption patterns, leisure activities and communication patterns of its users, including their social interactions and political preferences.

Such collections about the behaviour of the rest of humanity are popular in your circles, aren't they?

By buying Twitter stock, you can give your undoubtedly fine AI professionals access to a valuable treasure trove of data and establish yourself as one of Silicon Valley's leading AI players.

Congratulations on your stock purchase and I hope my data is in good hands with you.

Speaking of your professionals, I'm interested to know why your employees have to work so hard when you are so concerned about the well-being of people?

I'm also surprised that after the pandemic your staff were no longer allowed to work in their home offices. Is working at home also detrimental to the well-being of humanity?

In the meantime, you have taken the Twitter platform off the stock market.

It was never about money for you, right? No, you're not like that. I believe you!

But maybe it was about data? These are often referred to as the "oil of our time". The data of a social network is like the ticket to be one of the most important AI developers in the AI market of the future.

At this point, I would like to thank you for releasing parts of Twitter's code for algorithmic timeline control as open source. Thanks to this transparency, I now also know that the Twitter algorithm has a preference for your Elon Musk posts. What an enrichment of my knowledge horizon!

And now, barely a year later, this is happening: OpenAi, a hitherto comparatively small company in which you have only been active as a donor and advisor since your exit in 2018, not only has enormous sources of money, but also the AI gamechanger par excellence - Chat GPT. And virtually overnight becomes one of the most important players in the race for the digital future. It was rumoured that your exit at the time was with the intention that they would take over the business? Is that true at all?

After all I have said, I am sure you understand why I have these questions for you, don't you?

I would like to know what a successful future looks like in your opinion? I'm afraid I'm not one of those people who can afford a $100,000 ticket to join you in colonising Mars. I will probably stay on Earth.

So far I have heard little, actually nothing, about your investments in climate projects and the preservation of the Earth.

That is why I ask you, as an advocate of all humanity, to work for the preservation of the Earth - with all the means at your disposal, that would certainly help.

If you don't want to do that, I would very much appreciate it if you would simply stop worrying about us, the rest of humanity. Perhaps we can manage to protect the world from marauding robots and a powerful artificial intelligence without you, your ambitions and your friends?

I have always been interested in people. That's why I studied social sciences and why today I ask people what they long for. Maybe I'm naive, but I think it's a good idea to ask the people themselves what they want before advocating for them.

The rest of the world - that is, the 99,9 percent - who are not billionaires like you, also have visions!

With the respect you deserve,

Susanne Gold

(just one of the remaining 99% percent whose welfare you care about).

#elon musk #open letter #artificial intelligence #chatgpt #science #society #democracy #climate breakdown #space #planet earth #siliconvalley #genocide #war and peace #ai algorithms

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mirrorsblogs · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐌𝐞 (𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝), 𝐋. 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙖 𝙘𝙝. 𝟭𝟯𝟬+

It was cold, like most nights on the coast, with rarely any reprieve but Levi never complained. His very nature of endurance prevented him from ever complaining so he opted to sit up in bed and embrace it. Goosebumps littered his skin as he stared out the bedroom window towards the rolling sea.

I dreamed of the stars, now look at me.

Levi Ackerman should be happy. He retired from the military, the war was long over, and he never had to return to that wretched place that forced him away from the treasures of the world. He should be happy.

“Levi, what’re you doing awake?” Your voice from beside Levi startled him slightly. His eyes darted over to you, tensing unconsciously. You opened your eyes fully at his lack of response and saw his expression; ready for combat.

From beneath the bedsheets, you reached your hand to grasp his clenched fist, then, and only then did he release slightly. He looked around once again but was met with the familiar sight of the bedroom.

“You’re safe, there is no war,” you whispered, the same tone you had said every time prior.

“I’m not stupid I know,” Levi mumbled. The vulnerability of admitting the trauma his life had given him was something Levi was not prepared for so he chose the next option; avoidance.

“I never said you were but you looked tense,” you said, getting up to match his eye level while remaining on the bed. “I just wanted to be there for you.”

Levi paused for a moment, he lashed out at you again. Though you had explained to him previously that you understood his defensiveness it still made him feel awful whenever he lashed out. That horrible feeling led him into believing he could never escape the horrors he had been subjected to.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get angry.” He rubbed his hands together awkwardly.

“I know.” You smiled, Levi thought he did not deserve that grace. “But you’re getting better at recognizing it? Can’t you see?”

No, Levi could not. The progress you saw was entirely invisible to him so he simply sighed.

“Would you want to have some tea?”

“I’m up for it,” you said gleefully.

Levi got up using his walking cane, refusing assistance from you, and headed towards the shared kitchen. You remained silent as you sat down on a nearby table and opened a book knowing full well the tea-making process helped him to relax. It was clear cut for Levi, the steps were ingrained into his mind, even after all these years.

Hange taught me this trick.

Levi paused in his straining.

Hange.

The ‘four-eyed freak’ popped into his mind. For once in his life, he missed their charisma, their ability to lighten any mood, and most importantly their quirks. Levi looked around the kitchen but was met with empty space, Hange would always annoy him when he was brewing tea. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted you sitting idly at the table reading. Levi shook his head as he realized his own foolishness, he was not alone in this struggle.

“Can you stand by me?” The words came out stuttered and forced but for Levi to admit help this was the only way. You smiled at propped yourself on a nearby counter, watching him silently. “How was your day?”

“Good. Gabi dropped by and gave me some fruit she bought at the market, they’re supposed to be exotic.”

This was nice, this was normal.

“Keep talking,” he commanded.

You droned on and on about your day, recapping drama, reminiscing, sharing opinions, and so on. He never interrupted you but looked even more focused on his tea-making process.

“Done.” You stopped talking instantly and helped to put the tea and saucers onto the table. As you both sat there was a sad tinge in his eyes that you quickly picked up on.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Levi paused in contemplation, did he want to talk about it?

“Do you remember that time Hange thought it would be funny to lock us in Erwin’s office?” Levi looked down at his tea with a broken smile, his index finger rubbing the ceramic thoughtfully.

“You tried kicking the door down if I recall correctly.” You chuckled.

“You slept on one of the desk chairs until I woke you up.” Levi lifted his eyes to yours which were already staring at him. “Do you miss them?”

There was a lull. Did you miss your fallen comrades?

“Every day,” you whispered.

“How do you live?” Levi had stopped avoiding, he was tired of running.

“I have to focus on the present because if I stop to look back I’ll-” You stopped yourself as you lifted a hand to quiet your sobs. “I’ll remember how they all died, right in front of me.”

Levi regretted asking you these questions, it did more harm than good. It was better to just move on but that was easier said than done. He decided, looking at you, that he would try to live the life all his comrades dreamed of, he would try to live in peace.

“Do you want more tea?” He was mournful.

“No, I’m fine,” you hurriedly muttered, wiping the snot leaking from your nose.

“I’m gonna go back to bed,” Levi whispered, already grabbing his cane.

“I’ll go with.” The dishes were left on the table, that was tomorrow’s problem.

The room was as cold as before but Levi shirked away from it now. He glanced dismally at his bed and quickly climbed under the covers, pulling you closer than before. The newfound contact surprised you for a moment but you leaned into him.

“Don’t leave me too,” he whispered, voice gravelly, breath hot on your neck.

“I’m right here,” you whispered. Your hand grabbed his and you leaned your back further into his front. “Can’t you feel me?”

“You’re warm.” You were puzzled for a moment, Levi hated being warm or even humid. “This feels nice.”

And at least for this sole moment, he meant every word.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x yn #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x yn #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x yn #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x yn #levi angst #post-rumbling arc #levi ackerman x reader angst #levi x reader angst

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mariacallous · 10 days

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On March 11, Syrian farmer Ali Ahmad Barakat was driving a tractor to his fields in the fertile rebel-held lands of the Al-Ghab plain, just a few miles away from the front line with Assadist forces. For years, Al-Ghab’s farmers had refused to let the violence scare them away from working their fields.

But Barakat was about to become the next victim of a terrifying new Syrian Army-piloted weapon: a dirt-cheap, kit-built suicide drone.

Attacking civilians with drones isn’t new, but until recently, the vast majority of these attacks were carried out by more expensive long- and medium-range drones specifically designed for military purposes—characteristics that limited them to a small number of actors worldwide.

Armed groups such as the Islamic State began to experiment with small, cheap, off-the-shelf and custom-built drones in the 2010s, taking advantage of the consumer drone boom, but their attacks were largely focused on military targets and objectives.

Now, the picture has changed.

Small, inexpensive drones have become an indispensable tool on modern battlefields, as combatants come up with ever more creative ways to use these tiny flying robots. Inspired by these tactics, some fighters in conflicts from Myanmar to Syria are starting to use drone warfare techniques recently refined in the Russo-Ukrainian War, such as the use of tiny and ultra-fast suicide drones crafted from cheap hobby racing kits, as well as consumer camera drones rigged to drop explosives, to target, kill, and terrorize civilians.

And we don’t know how to stop them.

Since Russia first invaded Ukraine in early 2022, I’ve been monitoring the crucial role of small drone technology in the conflict, motivated by the hope that better understanding drone warfare tactics might make it easier to protect civilians from their dangers.

This March, the Syrian White Helmets civil defense group contacted me. According to their information (which has been published in a recent report), more and more civilians in the rebel-held front-line areas were getting attacked with small suicide drones. According to a number of sources, Russian military specialists had recently begun training Syrian Army forces to use both first-person-view (FPV) suicide drones and anti-drone guns. Russia’s drone warfare techniques were beginning to spread.

The attacks have shocked even hardened medics. One White Helmets volunteer, Ali Obied, was in the first group of medical workers to arrive on the scene after Barakat was killed. “When we reached the site, we saw how the suicide drone attacked the driver directly—it killed him and slaughtered him into pieces. We collected the pieces of the driver one by one,” he said. They were forced to withdraw quickly from the scene when, over a walkie-talkie, a spotter informed them that other drones were hovering nearby.

Another volunteer, Walid Abdeen, responded to an attack on April 16 that hit multiple civilian cars and a public market, injuring five people. He was confident that a suicide drone was the culprit, an observation backed up by other witnesses who saw the drone in the air before impact. “When suicide drones explode, nothing remains from it, just small pieces—but the sound of the drone is the same as those drones used by journalists,” Abdeen said.

The volunteers agreed that this similarity to peaceful drones was a problem. “It’s difficult for civilians to differentiate between them in the sky, and all of a sudden, they attack someone—a house, a center, or a car,” said Ismail Alabdullah, a media coordinator and volunteer for the White Helmets.

“Those drones, if they want to kill someone who is walking to his school, or even the White Helmets, if they’re returning to their [medical] centers—the drones can find individuals, attack the centers, kill directly,” Alabdullah added. “We have experience with mortars, rockets, and artillery shelling attacks. But this new weapon is incredibly dangerous because it is so precise and cheap to develop.”

White Helmets representatives say dozens of these FPV drone attacks are happening each week. Thanks to the terror spread by these relentless attacks, civilians who have hung on in Syria’s border regions for years are finally beginning to leave.

These drone-powered mechanisms for spreading mass civilian terror aren’t restricted to Syria: They are also on the rise in Ukraine. Targeted attacks by Russian drones on Ukrainian civilians rose dramatically this summer. And while top U.N. officials condemned this uptick in attacks to the Security Council in March, the onslaught shows no signs of stopping.

From July 1 to 21 alone, I collected 34 separate cases of alleged attacks on Ukrainian civilians by Russian drones, drawing from open-source information posted by official sources in the Ukrainian government. As in Syria, most attacks in Ukraine seem to be taking place near the front lines, where relatively short-range FPV racing and consumer drones can reach, and with the same goal of spreading terror.

On July 2nd, a Ukrainian woman was reportedly injured by an FPV drone while she stood in her backyard in Berislava. Days later, on July 11th, authorities reported that two female volunteers were injured after a Russian FPV drone hit a humanitarian aid delivery point in Stanislav. Then, on July 18th, Kherson Oblast’s governor reported that a 74-year-old man in Oleksandrivka was killed by a Russian drone attack – one of a number of older civilian victims.

Some attacks have hit moving civilian vehicles, including minibuses and personal cars—and a number of clearly marked humanitarian and medical vehicles. On Jan. 26, Ukrainian media reported that a Russian FPV drone had attacked a marked car belonging to an aid worker working with a NGO connected to the U.N. Refugee Agency’s humanitarian mission, destroying the car. A journalist who was riding in the vehicle said that it was “very likely that the operator could see the labels on the car.”

Later, on May 29, a Russian drone attack killed a Ukrainian ambulance driver and seriously injured his wife (who had been riding in the vehicle). Soon after, on June 8, Oleksandr Prokudin, the governor of Kherson oblast, reported that after a spate of shelling in the vicinity of Bilozerka, a Russian drone had attacked an ambulance that arrived on the scene to help, injuring the driver.

The tactic has spread beyond Ukraine and Syria. In Gaza, Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor reports that Israel has increasingly turned to small quadcopters to attack civilians and journalists, while Palestinian sources in Rafah told AFP in June that they lived in fear of “quadcopter drones, which mercilessly target anyone walking.” Israel has long used consumer-type quadcopters and racing drones for military purposes, including to drop tear gas on protesters in Gaza in 2018 and to counter so-called fire balloons sent from Gaza during the same period.

In Myanmar, rebel groups fighting the military junta have become adept at using small, cheap consumer and custom-built drones for both intelligence-gathering and for attacks. In recent months, Myanmar’s junta has begun to catch up: In September and October 2023, villagers in the Sagaing region said they were repeatedly attacked by bomb-dropping regime drones.

In another incident this July, the Insecurity Insight NGO reported that armed Myanmar military drones attacked a health center in the Sagaing region, killing a midwife, her two-year-old child, and at least five patients affiliated with the local resistance forces, as well as injuring at least 15. The patients who were killed reportedly had been injured in an earlier military drone attack, and had been seeking care for their injuries at the time

Mexico’s drug cartels, too, have become frequent users of consumer and DIY drones in recent years, both for smuggling and for terrorism. Like Bashar al-Assad’s forces, the cartels appear to view these sudden, shocking drone attacks as an effective way to terrorize civilians into ceding strategically valuable territory. In May 2023, more than 600 people were reportedly displaced from communities in Mexico’s Guerrero state due to cartel drone attacks, and attacks since then in the state have reportedly killed civilians and targeted local schools.

These tactics are spreading, and there is little guidance for civilians, including journalists and aid workers, on how to deal with them. Most existing writing on the subject is geared toward attacks from larger, more powerful, and stealthier long-range military drones.

Thankfully, there are some things the international community can start doing today.

National and international bodies and organizations concerned with civilian protection, such as the United Nations and the International Committee of the Red Cross, should come together to strategize around how best to protect people from small drone attacks. These groups should loudly condemn the terrorist attacks and investigate possible violations of international humanitarian law—as well as sponsoring the research and reporting needed to better understand the problem.

Russia’s war in Ukraine has led to the rapid development of new technologies for detecting drone radio signals in the air, new tools for electronically disabling drones, and a wide variety of other basic drone defense tactics (including the revelation that you can hide from thermal sensors by throwing a yoga mat over your head). Perhaps some of these tools and tactics could be adopted for civilian use.

Finally, we need more collective clarity around the legality of attacks on civilians with small drones under international humanitarian law as well as the legality of civilian efforts to defend themselves. Currently, interpretation of the law doesn’t adequately account for tiny flying robots in combat. As I wrote with my colleague Ossama A. Zaqqout in 2018 (and again in 2022), the presence of identical-looking small drones in the airspace over today’s conflicts makes it very hard for people on the ground to tell whose drone is whose.

Under international humanitarian law’s principle of distinction, combatants must distinguish themselves from civilians—but unlike manned aircraft, drones are too small to carry marks visible from the ground, and they can’t respond to radio checks. We need better solutions to avoid these cases of mistaken identity.

There’s also uncertainty around how humanitarian law might apply to civilian efforts to anticipate—and defend themselves against—drone attacks. Will civilians lose their noncombatant status if they use counterterrorism tools against small drones? Do civilians lose protection if they monitor radio waves for armed drone presence and report that information to combatants—or if they post that information online in a public place?

As is the case with so many other novel consumer technologies, we’ve swiftly figured out how to use drones both to help humanity and to hurt it. But civilians aren’t doomed to be easy targets—as long as we summon the international will to find ways to protect them.

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aviationdefence122 · 1 year

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#combat drone market #combat drone market size #combat drone market forecast #combat drone market report

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theprettynosferatu · 1 year

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The gigantic metal beast landed with a thud. Not the most graceful of homecomings, thought the handler. It didn’t matter, of course. No damage to the mech, four enemies down, a few needless but thrilling maneuvers for the video drone capturing every moment. A successful mission any way one cut it. The handler looked up from the screens, towards the solid, tangible reality of his ward.

Even after years together, even after a hundred missions, the sight never failed to impress. Himiko emerged from the cockpit drenched in sweat, every curve of her body glistening under the hangar lights. She stretched. This was a performance too, even if she didn’t know it. Her booty shorts and miniscule top were as much a necessity as an asset, and her “dismounts” were something of a phenomenon among the viewers.

Every second in the cockpit was filmed, every motion in combat captured from several angles, every landing documented to be masterfully edited and broadcast to the population. She was a soldier on two fronts: fighting the rebellion while also being someone the company could parade in front of everyone, someone people could root for, someone they could obsess over. Better to have them focused on her skin, those shorts, her beautiful face. Even her mech, the Enkidu, was part of her brand: it was an older model, a classic -or a relic, depending on one’s point of view- that tended to be particularly punishing for pilots. The goddamn thing was an oven, relying on overheating systems for sudden bursts of enhanced performance with minimal heat dispersal to spare the operator. Hence, booty shorts and top. The effect was simple, eloquent: she was a warrior, an underdog willing to do whatever it took to destroy a more advanced enemy. Underdogs were good. People cheered for them.

The handler shuddered. If Himiko knew he had been the one to suggest her brand…

Well, there were many things Himiko didn’t know, and every asset needed a brand, a simple phrase that could be marketed, displayed, sold. “Sexy, rebellious underdog”. Everything orbited that one concept. Her clothing, her public appearances, even her fighting style. She was as artificial as her mech and didn’t even know it. Damn it.

The handler chased the feeling away. Things would be worse for Himiko without him. He was good to her. Hell, compared to other handlers he was downright angelic, if the stories were true. Even the whole “underdog” gimmick was… mild, next to what other pilots were saddled with. The company had to cater to many tastes, after all. “Ruthless, cold bombshell”. “Cheery, optimistic angel”. “Seductive, psychotic killer”. A pilot for every desire, and joint missions were true events, advertised and promoted with taglines like “...But can they work together?”, or “Angel and Demon together!”. The strategic purpose of such missions was a secondary priority, if it was a priority at all.

Yes, “rebellious underdog” wasn’t that bad, all things considered. The handler went down to the launching bay.

“I fucked up with that second mech”

“It still went down, didn’t it?”

“Messed up my aim. I Could have downed him quicker. Fuck!”

Himiko was one of the few pilots allowed to swear. It fit her brand. Well, truth was Himiko was one of the few pilots able to swear, but that wasn’t something the handler liked to think about.

“May I shower?”, she asked.

“You may”, he replied.

Himiko flashed him a quick smile and headed for her quarters. The handler watched her leave. He wondered, as he had done so many times before, if he was the only one that could see something between sadness and rage in her eyes.

“We were going with something like… ‘Guts and Glamour’, when the op was just Himiko and Adrian, but now that Ruby’s part of the whole thing…”, said the handler.

“‘Guts and Glamour’? Really?”, scoffed Mark.

“You know them marketing boys like their alliteration, Mark. We work with what we got”, added Katrina, a bit offended.

‘Guts and Glamour’ had been her idea, in fact. A bit on the facile side, but the handler had to admit his partner had nailed it on the head. Katrina was rough, but one of the best, after all: that was why she had been saddled with Adrian. “Vain, cocksure prettyboy”, had been the concept and the pilot delivered in spades, which was a blessing and a curse. He was easy to hate as much as he was easy to desire. The company liked to try some “hate that you love them” concepts every now and then. They thought it was a complex character. A pain in the ass for a handler, that’s what it was. Sometimes the public saw their skills and were won over. Other times…

Well, tragic deaths were quite moving too.

Ruby, on the other hand, was a tried and true idea. Fiery, sexy redhead. Not much to do with that, but her genetics did the heavy lifting. Something for the basic teen boys.

“Right, right. Well, Maybe we can keep it. Ruby’s glamorous too”, said Mark.

“Nah. Won’t work. Three pilots, ain’t it? We need three keywords, short, punchy. And I don’t think we have a third ‘G’ word to throw in there. And Ruby has… no offense, but I wouldn’t call it glamour, exactly. I mean, not your fault, bud. But…”, trailed off Katrina.

“No offense taken. We aren’t shooting for high class with Ruby. What you see is what you get, pretty much. And she loves to let people see”, replied Mark.

“You sure got lucky with the whole heat gimmick, right? Himiko can show off and still come across as tough”

It took a moment for the handler to realize Katrina was talking to him. He poured himself another drink, and saw the other two handlers onscreen joining him in a toast across space.

“I guess”, mumbled the handler.

“You know, I don’t know what’s better: fucking the hot redhead everyone thinks is slutty, or being the only one that knows how freaky the rebel girl can get”, giggled Mark.

“Come on, man. That’s the kind of joke that gives handlers a bad rep”, said the handler.

Silence stretched, infinite, plastic.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, man. You tapped that, and you know it”, retorted Mark.

“Say what you will about Adrian, but he makes up for his preening with some stamina”, said Katrina.

“Stop it. It’s not funny”, muttered the handler, shifting in his seat.

“We’re not being funny. This shit ain’t for broadcast, pal. Save the PC shit for official events. It’s just us shooting the shit, here”, said Katrina.

“Wait. You don’t really… you know…”

“Fuck my pilot? Eight days a week, cowboy. Jesus, are you bullshitting me right now? It’s like, the one benefit we have. Sure, it’s not on the fucking brochures, but come on! We have genetically enhanced clones that are programmed to obey and designed to be hot! You think the company doesn’t know what’s bound to happen? Nature’s gonna nature, I say. And it’s not like they’re… people-people, you know?” said the woman on the screen.

“They’re clones, sure, but… they’re still people”, said the handler.

“You mean to say you never thought about it?”, asked Mark.

“Think about it… I mean, I guess. Like… you can have fantasies about anyone, right? But fantasies are one thing and… doing shit is another”, said the handler.

Katrina laughed.

“So let me get this straight: you’re all alone in your compartment, jerkin’ it to a girl that’s right fucking there, next door over, and who would do whatever you told her to do if only you had the balls to command her? God, that’s pathetic. You have a feast in front of ya and keep eating those saltine crackers from ration packs, honey. Okay, real talk: are you gay, or ace, or…”

“No. Bi, actually”, said the handler in anger. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t wrong to…”

“See, I think I get the issue. I’ve seen it a couple of times. Clones are not like you and me. Clones obey. And they don’t feel bad about it, because they can’t not obey, feel me? It’s just the way they’re made, you know? She wouldn’t feel violated or… I don’t know, used. Not in any degree above what happens whenever you send her on a mission. She’s designed for it. It’s all she knows and all she can know. And if we are being honest… let me ask you a question: are you scared for her when it looks like a mission is gonna go tits up? Are you anxious when you give her a combat plan and don’t know if it’s the best course of action?”, asked Mark.

“Of course”

“Me too. Every single time Ruby goes inside that mech I’m sweating bullets. I care about her. It’s my job to make her thrive, man. That’s what we do. You know who’s never scared going into combat? Ruby, or Adrian, or Himiko. Can you imagine that? Climbing into a big ass combat mech and not being terrified? But they’re not like us, and you know what? I kinda envy them. They are at peace. They have their missions, and the complete, unshakable focus to do their best every time. Combat, a photoshoot, an ad… same to them. Just missions. They don’t have to make choices, or suffer the pangs of uncertainty. There’s something beautiful there. A purity. They are what they are, do what they’re assigned to do, and those two things are the same thing. They have clarity of purpose. They’re not burped into existence like the rest of us. And when I tell Ruby to wrap her huge tits around my cock and get me off, it’s another mission to her. Nothing more, nothing else. You ask me, they’re the lucky ones. So, word of advice: care for your pilot. But don’t fall for her. ‘Cause you’d be falling for a shadow”. Said Mark between drinks.

The meeting went on. The handler didn’t really pay attention to whatever title they had decided to give their joint mission in the end.

III

The mission had been a success. In the end the marketing people had decided to play up the “one guy, two girls” angle. Would love blossom on the battlefield? The people saw Ruby saving Adrian from a cowardly sneak attack. The flirting had been heavy and constant. Of course, Ruby had made no such heroic save, but editing could perform miracles.

The handler was glad Himiko hadn’t been picked to move the romance plot forward. Sure, affairs between pilots existed only for the cameras, in parades and interviews, but still. Himiko’s brand wasn’t appropriate for such things. But if he was being honest, it wasn’t the sanctity of the image that bothered him. He had been with Himiko from the beginning. He had designed her brand, advised on her fighting style, added flair and soul to the character. Himiko belonged to the company, sure, but in a creative way, Himiko was his. The strong girl in the posters and vids, the firebrand adored by millions… he had created that, as much as the geeks at the genetic farms. Perhaps even more.

The handler couldn’t say when he had gotten out of bed and walked out of his room. He found himself in the hallway, steps away from the pilot’s compartment. She -it- would be there. His creation. His product. Hours of work, gallons of sweat and tears and anxiety and effort put into her… into making her a phenomenon, beloved by millions. And what did he get? He was anonymous. He was a shadow- worse, a shadow of a shadow, unrecognized, unrewarded.

The door slid shut and Himiko went instantly to her feet. Pilots were light sleepers by design, always ready. They slept in the nude, so they could get into their outfits instantly. Shame was not something they felt, less of all in front of their handlers.

“Do we have a mission?”, she asked.

The handler paused, entranced by the soft curves of her pilot. It didn't matter how much he saw of her, it always made an impact somewhere primal, deep inside his soul. No, not her. The product, he reminded himself. The word escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“Kneel”

There was a moment there, barely longer than a lightning strike. Himiko’s eyes flashed with confusion, a hint of outrage, and then set on complete, focused determination as she went down on her knees. She looked up at the handler, ready to obey. The handler felt almost drunk, giddy. So many men and women looked up to this girl, adored her, saw her as a role model and object of desire… and now she looked up at him. It was intoxicating.

“Remove my underwear”

She did so with the efficiency of a close quarters combat expert. He barely had to shift to let her cast the fabric aside. One part of him couldn’t believe it was this easy, even as inside him a quieter, stifled side of himself screamed. It was too late to go back.

“Suck my cock”

What followed was akin to vertigo, beyond anything he had ever felt before. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes. The handler wasn’t a virgin, but he might as well have been. Himiko took to her mission with the zeal and determination of a true warrior, changing speeds, pressure, angle, using her tongue, her lips, her throat. The handler felt something in the base of his spine, an orgasm building from somewhere deeper than anything he had experienced in his life. Overcome by the maelstrom of sensation, he had for a moment forgotten what was happening, sent hurling away from reality by the pilot’s skills. His eyes snapped open.

He saw Himiko. Strong, fierce Himiko. Her expression was one he had seen a thousand times in the cockpit, the focus of an operator in that special zone where only the mission existed, where only her objective mattered. He saw a programmed response, and a reminder of what she really was. Of what he was doing.

“Stop”, he muttered. She instantly did. He caught his breath.

“Could you… could you pretend to enjoy it? Like… like you… want me?” God, he felt pathetic. The feeling, however, lasted only a second. Himiko smiled, a smile no one had ever seen before, a smile that didn’t fit any poster or propaganda piece. It was mischievous, flirty, like they were accomplices in a secret, loving affair. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t real. She made it feel real to him.

She made him feel special.

Suddenly there was a sense of fun, of warmth to her actions. She moaned and purred with every lick, teasing him, smiling and biting her lips, making him feel as if for that moment his pleasure was her pleasure, that he was all that existed, that his cock was the most beautiful, most entrancing thing in the universe. His moans mixed with hers as she worshiped him with her mouth, her hands, her breasts. It was sex and devotion, fun and partnership, lust and love. It was too easy to believe it all, too perfect to resist. The handler wanted the moment to last, forever if at all possible. When he told Himiko to get on the bed, she leaped in joy and looked at him as she stretched on the mattress, eyes full of anticipation, a teasing challenge to her lover.

He dove into her arms. He kissed her stomach, her perfect thighs, her neck. He wanted her, wanted to devour her, to be with her and for her to be his, totally and completely. He wanted them to belong to each other, to seal a partnership that had, in his mind, been growing for years. Her shallow breathing, her whimpers and soft moans begged him to do it, to take what was rightfully his. His hand softly caressed the inside of her thigh, barely touching it, moving upwards slowly, savoring every second. When he felt the wetness between her legs, he couldn’t help but wonder if that too was a conditioned response. He pushed the thought aside and let himself drown in her lips.

She was tight, and he managed to stop himself, teasing her clit. He didn’t want to hurt her. It occurred to him that Himiko was, in fact, a virgin. He would be careful. He would be gentle. He would take it slow.

But she was a warrior on a mission.

“Do it”, she said, panting. “Take me. Fuck me. Use me! I’ve seen you looking at me… my ass, my tits, my face… they’re all yours. Yours. Stop being a pussy and fucking ram that big cock inside me! I want it… I want you to treat me like your whore, your toy, whatever the fuck you want… just give me that cock! Please!”

The handler didn’t know if Himiko had been studying him, gathering information for precisely such an event, but it didn’t really matter. She knew exactly what to say, exactly how to say it, with a mixture of begging and demanding, commanding and submissive at the same time. She knew what to say to blow away any lingering hesitation, to obliterate any morality that might be holding him back. He entered her with fury, with anger, with lust, with the strength of years of repressed emotions and confused feelings behind him. Her legs surrounded him, brought him closer as she came with a melody of moans and tiny screams. Her nails dig into his back. The pain was the one thing that kept him from cumming. Had that been luck or a calculated move on her part?

With all her martial skill, she reversed positions and got on top.

“My turn”, she smiled.

He had fantasized about this moment for years. Himiko showed him just how limited his imagination was. She was mercurial, flowing from one position to another, from one attitude to another. She was whimpering and fighting against her own pleasure one moment, pinning him down and riding him with a wicked smile the next; she feigned innocence on second and then delivered babbling, perverted barrages of dirty talk without missing a beat. She made the bed feel like a playground where everything went, everything was allowed. She made him feel safe. Wanted.

Eventually, exhaustion got the better of him. Unlike Himiko, he was a simple handler, not a trained fighter. He fell asleep in her arms, postponing the inevitable reckoning with what he had done for a handful of peaceful, perfect hours.

The handler called in every favor he had. Burned a few bridges, too. It was necessary, he told himself. It was for Himiko, he told himself. It was the right thing to do, he told himself. Anything to make the voice inside his head shut up for a few seconds.

As a handler he had access to general genetic records: after all, he needed to know what his pilot was capable of, what enhancements had been made to her. There were other bits of information, however, that only the people at the genetic farms had and guarded jealously. But after a solid two weeks of begging, threatening and cajoling, he had managed to get a copy of what he needed, an answer to the question that had been tormenting him- and now he lingered, too scared to open the files.

Himiko was a clone. But somewhere out there there was an original. Or maybe there had been one, long ago. Whoever Himiko was made from was probably an old woman living in secluded luxury. That was the standard deal: a comfortable life of complete anonymity for the donors. They were usually athletes, sometimes models or soldiers, sometimes people with very specific characteristics that might appeal in a pilot, given a few adjustments. The handler didn’t know what would be worse: to find out the original was out in the world, or to find out Himiko’s genes had been taken from an old blueprint and the original had passed away. He just knew he needed to know, because Himiko deserved to know. Not that the pilot had asked, of course. But he needed to… do something for her. Yes, do something big for Himiko. That would make the voice shut the hell up.

He opened the files and started reading, a terrible dread growing in his chest.

Sample obtained through Rebirth Protocol.

It was there in black and white: a rumor discarded by almost everyone, embraced only by the most fringe of lunatics. And it was real. The Rebirth Protocol. Forced acquisition of samples from captured rebels before their executions.

Himiko’s original had never lived a life of peace and comfort. She had been a rebel. A fighter, like her clone. One battling the company at every turn, transformed into an obedient asset in an act of perverted, vengeful poetry. And he had been complicit. He had made Himiko one of the most recognizable faces of the company, a key pillar in its efforts in the battlefield and in the war on the minds of the people.

The handler threw up. He copied the files to his personal device, shaking. He could feel his determination wavering. No. He had to show her, and he had to show her immediately.

Himiko smiled as he entered. The handler felt terrible for issuing that particular order. Knowing what he knew, the smile felt like a dagger.

“Himiko, look at this”, he said, pulling up the files on the screen. It was all there. Himiko’s original name. Pictures taken during captivity. Video of her flying a rebel mech. He looked at the pilot. Something was stirring inside her, he knew it.

“She looks like me”, muttered Himiko.

“She is you. In a manner of speaking. But… you were…”

“I was a rebel. I… Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted! Fucking granted!”

“I feel… something. Anger… no, not anger. It’s more… righteous. A fire. We… I… refused. Refused to be under the boot of the company… we… there was more to life. More to being a person than just working and consuming and… Why? Why do I remember these things?”

“I’m not sure. If you were a rebel pilot, it’s possible they copied not just your DNA but some of your neural pathway patterns, to transfer combat experience into… your new self. Maybe she… you, the real you… is still in there somewhere. Kei. Your name was Kei”

Himiko was crying without moving a muscle. Tears rolled down her perfect face.

“Kei…” she muttered.

“You are Kei”

“I am…”

An eternal pause.

“I am Himiko, pilot for the company”, came the emotionless response.

“No! You don’t have to be! You were a proud fighter and can be that again! We can… we can leave. We can escape, together. Disappear. Go to some forgotten corner of the galaxy, and…”

“Pilots are not allowed to travel without company authorization”

The handler stormed out of the room.

Sleepless nights on unauthorized communication channels, places where the company couldn’t snoop. Editors uploaded outtakes of pilots messing up, or candid footage of pilots in showers and locker rooms. Handlers shared the… art they had compelled their pilots to make, a notion he would have refused to believe not long before. Gene freaks debated new techniques, mulled over the possibilities of more extreme genetic modification. And the handler read it all, looking for the answer to a singular question: was there a way to break the conditioning?

He wasn’t the first handler to wonder that, he discovered. A few before him had been shouted down, accused of being potential rebels. Some had gotten tidbits of information, ways in which perhaps, in theory, the compulsions could be lessened, if not erased entirely.

He tried them all. Flashing lights. Shock diet. Memory regression. Hypnosis. More and more Himiko was becoming like her other self, like Kei. And yet, after every attempt, he issued a single command.

“Slap yourself”

She did so. Every single time.

“I’m sorry”, she said.

He was on his knees, his head on her lap, sobbing. It was pointless. The company had her, and by having her, they had him. There would be no escaping, no happy ending in their own secluded corner of the world. Only dreaming.

Maybe dreaming wasn’t so bad. One could get lost in a beautiful dream. Perhaps even forget it was a dream, every now and then. That was the best they could hope for: to steal small moments of counterfeit happiness from a world too miserly, too cruel to allow the real thing to thrive. Didn’t Himiko deserve those moments, that respite? Didn’t he deserve them too?

Defeated, he rose to his feet. The handler looked at the pilot’s sad eyes.

“Himiko… love me”, he commanded.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

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