#Deploy Headlamp

[virtualizationhowto]

Headlamp: Kubernetes Dashboard Openlens Alternative

Headlamp: Kubernetes Dashboard Openlens Alternative @vexpert #100daysofhomelab #vmwarecommunities #KubernetesHeadlamp #KubernetesClusterManagement #KubernetesDashboards #DeployHeadlamp #ExtensibleKubernetesUI #HeadlampDesktopApp #KubernetesIDE

If you’re interested in Kubernetes, you’ve probably worked with various tools to manage your Kubernetes clusters. A new player in the field is Kubernetes Headlamp, an open-source project originally developed by Kinvolk (now part of Microsoft). With Headlamp, managing resources and maintaining a view of your Kubernetes cluster is much easier. This powerful tool reduces the learning curve of…

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Buick Riviera, 1968. The second generation Riviera was restyled for 1968 with loop-type bumpers that surrounded both the vehicle's recessed crosshatch front grille and tail lamps. The concealed headlamps swivelled upwards and tucked under the leading edge of the bonnet when not deployed

[wachinyeya]

Come autumn, Nepal will deploy heavy lifter drones to transport garbage from the 6,812-metre tall Ama Dablam, south of Everest. This will be the first commercial work an unmanned aerial vehicle does in Nepal’s high-altitude zone.

The heavy lifter from China’s biggest drone maker, Da Jiang Innovations (DJI), will take on tasks traditionally handled by Sherpas. Officials believe it will help reduce casualties on Everest.

Then, in spring (March-May), DJI drones, which make sounds similar to a swarm of bees, will be put to work on Everest.

It will fly to Camp I (5,943 metres) to supply ropes and ladders to prepare routes and bring garbage to the Everest base camp at 5,364 metres.

On Sunday, a tripartite memorandum of understanding (MoU) was signed between the Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee, the Khumbu Pasang Lhamu Rural Municipality, and the Airlift Technology Pvt Ltd for the use of advanced drone technology to efficiently manage garbage in the mountains of the Khumbu region.

In April, Chinese drone maker DJI conducted the world’s first drone delivery test on Everest.

“After a successful test in April, we plan to use drones commercially in the Everest region,” said Jagat Bhusal, chief administration officer of the rural municipality that hosts Everest.

The test result showed that the DJI FlyCart 30, the long-distance heavy lifter drone, could airlift 234 kg per hour between Camp I and Base Camp, a task usually accomplished by at least 14 porters in six hours.

Drone manufacturer DJI is under the microscope as US lawmakers push for a ban on Chinese drones, amid deteriorating relations between the US and China, the world’s largest trading nations.

Nepali officials and mountaineers, however, see the drone as a life-saving vehicle.

Traditionally, local Sherpa guides are responsible for transporting supplies and clearing trash on Everest. They may need to cross the icefall over 30 times a season to transport supplies such as oxygen bottles, gas canisters, tents, food, and ropes.

All climbers and guides must navigate the icefall on the route to the world’s tallest peak. The icefall is so notoriously dangerous that even experienced Sherpas hesitate to move when the sun shines.

The Khumbu Icefall, a river of ice a kilometre or so long, is usually crossed at night or early morning, with climbers putting headlamps on their helmets.

Normally, the route is crossed early in the morning, when the ice blocks and the hanging glaciers are stable and avalanche risks are low.

During the day, as the sun warms the mountain, the hanging glaciers melt, and ice crumbles, increasing the risk of avalanche.

“Using drones will help us avoid the dangers in the Khumbu Icefall,” said Bhusal.

On April 18, 2014, an avalanche resulting from a falling serac buried 16 Sherpa guides in the Khumbu Icefall, eventually leading to the cancellation of the season’s expeditions.

Last year, three Sherpa guides mobilised to prepare the routes were buried under the ice masses triggered by an avalanche in the Khumbu Icefall. Their bodies are yet to be recovered.

The Himalayan Database and the government records show that nearly 50 individuals died on the icefall between 1953 and 2023.

The climb from Everest Base Camp to Camp I takes six hours. Between these two camps lies the Khumbu Icefall, the most treacherous part of the route.

The most exciting and easiest part of the route is reaching Camp II (6,400 metres), which takes four hours from Camp I.

There is a set of restrictions in the mountains for carrying loads.

According to government rules, workers climbing high altitudes must not carry loads exceeding 20kg between 5,000 and 6,000 metres, 17 kg between 6,001 and 7,000 metres, 14 kg between 7,001 to 8,000 metres, and 12 kg for altitudes above 8,000 metres.

“Yes, there are concerns that the machines may actually cut jobs. But our sole purpose is to reduce potential deaths in the Khumbu Icefall, the danger zone,” said Bhusal.

“We will train Sherpas, as drone operators cannot handle tasks at the higher camps. In the future, all work will be done by Sherpas.”

In the trial phase, the drone could lift 30 kg from Camp I. However, its performance dropped to 18 kg from Camp II.

“Based on the MoU framework, we will soon sign a commercial agreement with the drone supplier,” said Bhusal. “The municipality will monitor all the activities.”

The municipality has, so far, spent Rs800,000 on the trial.

Climate change is melting snow and ice, exposing even more garbage and bodies that have been covered for decades on Everest. This waste pollutes the natural environment and poses a severe health risk to everyone who lives in the Everest watershed.

Nearly 100 tonnes of garbage were collected during this spring climbing season from Everest and Lhotse, which share the same base camp.

According to the Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee (SPCC), 77.19 tonnes of waste was collected from the Everest base camp alone during the Spring 2024 climbing season. With 8-9 tonnes coming from the higher camps brought down by the expedition agencies, the SPCC collected 85 tonnes of waste this spring.

The breakdown of collected waste shows burnable garbage at 27.99 tonnes, recyclable garbage at 7.51 tonnes, human waste at 27.53 tonnes, and kitchen waste at 14.15 tonnes. The Nepal Army also collected over 11 tonnes of garbage.

[khivrajmotors]

Triumph Scrambler 400 A perfect mixture of performance and strength

The Triumph Scrambler 400 X Entry-Level Scrambler segment has a game-changer in the segment, combining classic British styles with modern technology and adventure-taiyar capabilities. With the heritage of the Triumph of premium motorcycles, the Scrambler 400 provides a rugged, off-road-inspired design at a price that makes it more accessible to a wide range of riders. Whether you are an urban explorer or an adventure seeker, this bike is designed to handle city streets and rough trails.

Triumph Scrambler 400 Price in India

One of the largest main attractions of triumph scrambler 400 price is competitive pricing. Triumph cleverly deployed this model to attract riders in search of a budget -friendly, premium scrummer experience.

Ex-Showrroom Price: ₹ 2.64 Lakh 

On-road price (approx): ₹ 2.90 lakh- ₹ 3 lakh (including RTO, Insurance and Accessories)

Prices may be different -dilated based on state, taxes and dealership offers, so it is always best to check with your nearest triumph showroom for the latest updates.

What Makes the Triumph Scrambler 400 Worth Its Price?

The Scrambler 400 X is a value-for-money product because of its combination of power, technology, and design at its price point.

1. Powerful Engine

A 398cc, single-cylinder, liquid-cooled engine producing 40 PS of power and 37.5 Nm of torque, ensuring a thrilling ride.

A 6-speed gearbox with an assist-and-slipper clutch for smooth gear shifts.

2. Rugged Scrambler Styling

High-mounted exhaust, rugged fuel tank design, and classic round LED headlamp give it an aggressive scrambler look.

Long-travel suspension and a 19-inch front wheel for improved off-road capability.

3. Modern Technology & Features

Ride-by-wire throttle for enhanced control and fuel efficiency.

Switchable traction control for better stability on different terrains.

Dual-channel ABS for confident braking.

4.Comfort & Handling

A high ground clearance of 195mm makes it capable of handling rough roads.

Ergonomic seat design ensures a comfortable ride for both the rider and pillion.

Why Choose the Triumph Scrambler 400?

With its competitive pricing, premium design and adventure-ready features,  Triumph Scrambler 400 X is a strong competitor in its segment. It provides a better balance of performance, comfort and technology as compared to other scramble-style bikes such as Royal Enfield Scramas 411 and Yeddi Scrambler.

If you’re looking for a stylish, adventure-friendly motorcycle that offers premium quality at an affordable price, the Triumph Scrambler 400 is an excellent choice.

For More information: Contact Us Khivrajtriumph

[aerospacesolutions]

Calspan Aerospace Ensuring Compliance with FMVSS Standards

The Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards (FMVSS) are essential regulations established by the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) to ensure that vehicles meet stringent safety requirements before they can be sold or operated in the United States. These regulations govern everything from crashworthiness and airbag performance to lighting and tire specifications. Compliance with FMVSS standards is not only a legal requirement for vehicle manufacturers but also a critical component of ensuring public safety on the roads.

For companies involved in automotive testing, such as Calspan Aerospace, ensuring that their tests meet FMVSS standards is essential. Calspan Aerospace, traditionally known for its aerospace expertise, has broadened its testing services to support the automotive industry’s needs, particularly in meeting FMVSS requirements. Through its cutting-edge testing technologies and engineering expertise, Calspan Aerospace plays a crucial role in helping manufacturers navigate the complexities of FMVSS compliance.

This article will explore how Calspan Aerospace ensures FMVSS compliance, the importance of these standards, and how the company supports vehicle manufacturers in meeting the necessary safety benchmarks.

Understanding FMVSS Standards

The FMVSS are a set of regulations that specify minimum safety requirements for motor vehicles in the U.S. These standards cover a broad range of vehicle aspects, including:

Crash Safety: Requirements for vehicle crashworthiness, including frontal, side-impact, and rear-impact crashes. These standards help minimize the risk of injury in the event of a collision.

Vehicle Lighting and Visibility: Standards for headlamps, taillights, reflectors, and other visibility features that ensure drivers can see and be seen on the road.

Airbag Performance: Requirements for airbag systems, ensuring they deploy properly in the event of a crash and protect the vehicle occupants.

Child Restraint Systems: FMVSS includes standards for car seats and booster seats, focusing on ensuring the safety of children in vehicles.

Tire Safety: Regulations to ensure that tires meet specific durability, performance, and safety requirements.

Braking and Stability: Standards for vehicle braking performance, including the requirements for Anti-lock Braking Systems (ABS) and Electronic Stability Control (ESC) systems.

Compliance with these standards is mandatory for manufacturers who wish to sell vehicles in the U.S. and is a key part of vehicle design and testing. Meeting these standards often requires a combination of design verification, testing, and certification from approved testing agencies. This is where Calspan Aerospace’s role becomes pivotal.

Calspan Aerospace and FMVSS Compliance

Calspan Aerospace has built a strong reputation as a leader in aerospace testing, but its capabilities also extend into the automotive industry, where vehicle safety testing is paramount. The company’s expertise in testing technologies, data analysis, and regulatory compliance positions it as a valuable partner for vehicle manufacturers aiming to meet FMVSS requirements.

Calspan’s experience in testing various safety systems, vehicle performance, and crash simulations makes it an ideal partner for automotive manufacturers seeking FMVSS compliance. By leveraging its advanced testing facilities and highly skilled engineers, Calspan helps ensure that vehicles not only meet FMVSS standards but also exceed them where possible. Here are some of the key ways in which Calspan supports FMVSS compliance:

1. Crash Testing and Vehicle Safety

One of the most critical aspects of FMVSS compliance is crash testing. FMVSS includes stringent crash safety standards, particularly for frontal crashes, side-impact collisions, and rollover scenarios. Calspan Aerospace’s crash testing facilities are equipped to replicate real-world crash scenarios to help manufacturers evaluate how well their vehicles perform under various crash conditions.

Calspan’s crash tests are designed to simulate the conditions outlined in FMVSS regulations, ensuring that manufacturers can validate the crashworthiness of their vehicles. The company offers a range of crash testing services, including:

Frontal Crash Testing: Calspan can simulate head-on collisions at various speeds, using sophisticated impact analysis tools to evaluate vehicle structure, airbag deployment, and occupant protection.

Side-Impact Testing: This type of testing evaluates the vehicle’s ability to protect occupants in side collisions, focusing on side airbags, door strength, and overall structural integrity.

Rollover Testing: In addition to front and side impacts, Calspan tests vehicles for rollover resistance, a critical element of FMVSS compliance, especially in SUVs and other high-profile vehicles.

By conducting these tests, Calspan ensures that manufacturers can verify their vehicles��� safety performance and meet the FMVSS crashworthiness requirements. These tests are essential for demonstrating that a vehicle can provide adequate protection in the event of an accident.

2. Airbag and Occupant Protection Systems

The FMVSS mandates specific airbag requirements to ensure that airbags deploy properly during a crash. These requirements are outlined in standards such as FMVSS 208, which covers occupant crash protection. For vehicle manufacturers, it is critical that airbag systems are tested thoroughly to ensure they perform as intended and meet FMVSS regulations.

Calspan Aerospace conducts comprehensive testing on airbag systems, evaluating factors such as:

Airbag Deployment Timing: Ensuring that airbags deploy at the right moment during a collision.

Airbag Pressure and Deployment Force: Testing the force with which airbags inflate and ensuring they do not cause injury.

Occupant Positioning and Protection: Calspan’s crash tests also focus on how well the airbag systems protect different occupants, including drivers, passengers, and children in car seats.

In addition to airbag testing, Calspan also evaluates other occupant protection features such as seat belts, crumple zones, and energy-absorbing materials in the vehicle’s design. This ensures that manufacturers can achieve the highest level of protection for vehicle occupants in the event of a crash.

3. Tire and Braking Safety Testing

FMVSS includes requirements for tire performance and braking systems, critical elements for vehicle safety. Calspan Aerospace offers testing services that help manufacturers ensure that their tires meet the durability and performance standards outlined in FMVSS.

Tire Testing: Calspan conducts comprehensive tire testing to verify that tires perform well under a variety of conditions, including wet and dry surfaces, high-speed handling, and durability over time.

Braking System Testing: Calspan also tests braking systems to ensure they meet FMVSS standards for stopping distance, pedal feel, and response times. These tests are critical for verifying that vehicles can stop safely under emergency conditions.

Both tire and braking system testing are fundamental for vehicle manufacturers to meet FMVSS standards and ensure that vehicles perform optimally in real-world driving scenarios.

4. Lighting and Visibility Compliance

FMVSS includes guidelines for vehicle lighting and visibility, ensuring that vehicles are visible to other drivers and that their lighting systems function properly under various conditions. Calspan Aerospace supports compliance with these standards by testing vehicle lighting systems, including headlamps, tail lights, reflectors, and more.

Calspan’s testing services include evaluating lighting performance in different environments, ensuring that the lights meet brightness, durability, and visibility requirements. This is particularly important for ensuring that vehicles are visible to other road users in low-light or adverse weather conditions.

5. Data Analysis and Reporting

In addition to conducting physical tests, Calspan Aerospace plays a crucial role in collecting, analyzing, and reporting test data. Compliance with FMVSS standards requires a thorough analysis of all test data to ensure that vehicles meet or exceed regulatory requirements. Calspan’s engineers are skilled in analyzing complex test results and providing detailed reports that help manufacturers understand their vehicles’ performance and identify areas for improvement.

The Future of FMVSS Compliance

As technology evolves and new vehicle designs emerge, FMVSS standards continue to evolve as well. Electric vehicles (EVs), autonomous vehicles (AVs), and connected vehicle technologies are becoming more prevalent, and new testing requirements are likely to emerge to ensure their safety. Calspan Aerospace is well-equipped to meet the changing needs of the automotive industry, adapting its testing capabilities to account for new technologies and ensure ongoing compliance with FMVSS.

Conclusion

FMVSS standards are essential for ensuring the safety of vehicles and protecting occupants on the road. Calspan Aerospace, with its extensive expertise in testing and regulatory compliance, plays a crucial role in helping automotive manufacturers meet these stringent requirements. Through its advanced testing facilities, engineering expertise, and commitment to excellence, Calspan ensures that vehicles meet FMVSS standards, enhancing vehicle safety and protecting drivers, passengers, and pedestrians alike. With a focus on crash testing, airbag performance, braking, tire safety, and more, Calspan continues to be a trusted partner in the journey toward safer, more reliable vehicles.

[militarykart]

Military Kart

We are one stop shop for all military and tactical items such as military grade watches, tactical backpacks, tactical gears, tactical belts or accessories.Seeing a need for quality military gear for the everyday user, MilitaryKart was born. Protecting yourself, your family,or the public? Our high-quality products with military grade finishes are designed and deployed by listening to customer needs.We are backed by a world-class customer support team that are with you every step of the way. From ordering questions to general tips and advice, our team is here and ready to assist you with all of your needs.

Best Headlamp

[auffimuasi]

Black Diamond Deploy 325 Headlamp

[chadillacboseman]

Powder Keg

Summary: Alex (me) and Tigue (@mintspider) go on a smash and grab mission that goes wrong. Echo (@roofgeese) and Kate (@elligatorrex) are concerned in the aftermath. Agnes (@obsess-much) and Jo (@onesillybeach) are involved in the schemes. Word Count: 2.5k.

--

“In and out,” Kano shouted over the roar of the jet, “Twenty fuckin’ minutes- grab the package and blow that fucker sky high, got it?”

Alex nodded and hooked his jump lead to his vest. Beside him, Tigue glanced up and offered him a warm smile. He liked working with her- she was efficient, and her powers had saved his ass more times than he could count.

“See you on the ground!” Tigue called. She sprinted to the ramp and leaped, gracefully, before turning and offering a wink as she fell backward into the darkness.

“Show off!” Alex yelled after her with a grin; she had no need for a parachute- a fact that she never let the others live down.

Alex waited for the red light above him to turn green and jogged to the end of the ramp; he felt his chest swell with fear for a moment before he hit the point of no return and jumped. His jump lead disconnected and he felt the air whip past him, roaring in his ears as he dropped rapidly.

“Count to five, then deploy your chute-” Jo demonstrated the motion of pulling the ripcord, “Simple as that.”

Alex yanked on the ripcord and felt a tug when his chute deployed and his fall slowed. When he finally opened his eyes, he glanced down to see the twinkling lights of the city between his feet. He swallowed, hard, to quell the nausea welling in his stomach as the ground rapidly approached.

He landed, catlike, on the roof of the target building and discarded his harness and chute.

“Tigue?” he whispered. There was no response. He flipped his NOD over his eyes and with a high-pitched whine, the goggles came to life, illuminating his surroundings in bright hues of green.

“Tigue-”

“I’m here!” Tigue’s whisper nearly sent Alex back to the jet and he cursed in Turkish.

“What’s the sitrep?” he pulled out his GPS and Tigue leaned over it, pointing at the screen.

“Asset is here,” she pointed to the center of the building, “Eighth floor. I can grab it, easy. Weak points are in the basement,” she gestured to the four corners, “support beams there, plus one in the center. If you plant the explosives, I’ll get the asset. Ten minutes, tops.”

–

Alex dropped his backpack to the concrete floor with a thud and began pulling out the charges. The basement was almost pitch black, save for the light generated by his LED headlamp. He worked quickly, placing the semtex on each beam until he had covered all five.

“Charges placed-” he radioed to Tigue and waited in silence for her answer.

“Copy. I have the package. Six minutes until dust-off.”

Alex pulled out his phone and began programming the timer, fiddling until he had set it for seven minutes. A narrow window, but that’s how Kano liked to play it.

Alex’s finger hovered over the “START” button when he heard a sound somewhere behind him; he scrambled for his shotgun and turned on his heel, brandishing the weapon in the direction of the noise. His headlamp fell on the frightened face of a small child, no older than seven, dirt-covered and trembling.

“Hey- hey what are you doing here?” Alex jogged over to the child and knelt down to his level, “You have to get out of here, bud- it’s not safe to play right now.”

The child sniffed and glanced over his shoulder; Alex adjusted his gaze and his headlamp illuminated the faces of several more children in the darkness. Behind them, he could see the dim glow of what looked to be flames and a few more, older faces hovering around it.

Shit.

“Do you…do you live here?” Alex knitted his brows and the child nodded.

Shit.

“Tigue-” he hissed her name into his radio, “We have a problem. Get down here.”

There was a pause, no more than a few seconds, and Tigue phased through the ceiling, landing gracefully on the concrete in the center of the room. Her eyes widened when they fell on the child, illuminated by Alex’s headlamp.

“Oh-” she looked fearful as she spoke, “How many?”

“I don’t know…maybe a dozen.”

“Alex…dust-off is in four minutes-” Tigue fidgeted with the silver briefcase she clutched in her hands.

Alex cursed and fumbled with his radio, “Kano- I…I’ve got people down here. In the basement. At least a dozen. I can’t blow the place.”

The radio was silent for a moment before it crackled to life, “Like hell you can’t. Get to the roof for fuckin’ pick-up and blow the charges, Demir!”

“Kano, there are kids here-” Alex was pleading as he released the call button.

“You heard me. Blow the fucking charges or I will have your fuckin’ head!” Kano snapped and the line went dead.

Alex took his thumb off of the call button and threw the radio against a nearby wall. The plastic shattered on impact and Tigue flinched as shrapnel phased through her form.

"Alex," she paused before continuing, weighing her next words carefully. She had never seen him like this before- he looked as if he was about to erupt. The entirety of his hulking figure was tense, vibrating with an emotion she couldn’t place, "We have to move."

Alex finally met her eyes and she instinctively took a hesitant step backward.

"No," he sounded calm, but his expression betrayed him, "We have to get them out."

Tigue knew it could be done- with her powers and his strength they could have the whole encampment out within ten minutes.

Ten minutes too many.

"Alex, we can't," she pleaded, "Kano will-"

"Tigue, listen to me," he fumbled with her hands for a moment before clutching them in his own, "I will not let these people die."

Tigue squeezed her eyes shut and sighed in defeat. Her own moral compass wasn’t skewed enough to let this happen.

"Okay. Let's go."

–

“What the fuck were you thinking, you fucking idiot?” Kano was yelling, his teeth bared as he berated Alex, “Do you know how much your little humanitarian effort cost me?”

Alex was silent, staring at the tiled floor at his feet as the Aussie’s voice boomed through the compound.

“I don’t pay you to go on your fancy little rescue missions. And on top of that, you roped one of my best agents-” Kano gestured at Tigue and she averted her gaze to the floor, “into your stupid little side quest!”

Something in Alex snapped and he took a step forward, closing the gap between himself and Kano in a fraction of a second.

“Choose your next words carefully.” Alex shoved a finger in Kano’s chest and the Aussie sputtered on his words, taken aback at the sudden burst of bravery.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

“I will not kill kids for you, you piece of shit!” It was Alex’s turn to yell, and the others in the room flinched at the sound of it. Kate blinked in surprise and the compound’s lights flickered; she had never so much as heard him raise his voice- at least not like that.

Erron turned to Echo and cocked an eyebrow; Echo shook her head almost imperceptibly, her sage-colored eyes never leaving the spectacle in front of her.

“You’ve got some nerve, Turk-”

“Fuck you,” Alex snarled, his face twisted into an expression that looked foreign on his soft features.

“You talk to me like that and I’ll gut you like a fish, mate,” Kano rested his hand on the handle of the buck knife on his waistband.

There was a pregnant pause, bloated with tension. The whole room was silent as the others watched, eyes darting between Kano and Alex, waiting for their next words.

Alex finally broke the silence- his voice was barely more than a whisper-

“You can try.”

A sudden realization seemed to wash over Kano. He wasn’t looking directly into Alex’s eyes- no, he was looking up into his face. Alex had him by at least 30 pounds and four inches- he was covered from the neck down in body armor.

And every single person in that room was on his side.

The tension was palpable. Erron was the first to rise from his seat and move across the room; he was amused by the display, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Break it up,” he sauntered between the two of them and shoved his hands into their chests, moving them apart. Kano moved easily, but Alex planted his feet and glared at Erron, “I said, break it up-” Erron nodded his head pointedly and Alex finally backed down, turning on his heel and storming out of Kano’s office before any of the others could catch him.

“Wise move on his part-” Kano drawled as Alex disappeared into the hallway; his voice was calm, but devoid of his usual cockiness, “I’d have killed him.”

Erron scoffed and raised his eyebrows, “No you wouldn’t have.”

“The fuck you mean?” Kano folded his arms and leaned back against his desk.

“That boy would have ripped you in half. And I think everyone in this room might’ve helped him.”

–

“Alex?” Kate rapped gently on the door to his bunk and called to him through it. She could hear movement on the other side, but got no response, “Alex, please let me in.”

Inside, Alex ignored her. He hadn’t left his room in two days, and he had no desire to start now. He was still furious at Kano, and the rage was taking longer to subside than he expected.

Kate wasn’t the first to stop by- Agnes had dropped off food without a word and even Kabal said he’d “break the fucker down” if Alex didn’t come out.

“Alexander Demir. Do not make me get Tigue over here,” Kate pressed her ear against the wood and heard the muffled sounds of Alex moving across the room toward the door. She straightened up and felt her heart sink when he opened it.

Alex looked terrible. His hair was disheveled and there were large halos of darkness under his eyes. The t-shirt that was draped over his broad form was wrinkled and full of holes; she could see one of the large cuts from the mission on his chest- it looked red and angry, the start of an infection.

“Alex, I am taking you to the infirmary,” Kate grabbed his hand and he yanked it away, “What is wrong with you? That cut is going to make you go septic.”

“I don’t care-” he tried to swing the door shut and Kate jammed her foot in its path. There was a sickening crunch as several of her bones were snapped by the motion, “For Christ’s sake, Katie-” he stopped, he never used that name for her, not when he was in his right mind.

Kate pulled her foot back and waggled it gently, grimacing at the way her boot flopped like a limp fish, “Ah, give it a couple hours- but you, we have to get you to the infirmary. Please.”

“Fine.”

The two of them wandered toward the infirmary, Alex looming over Kate like a stormcloud as she limped along on her broken foot.

“You know, if you’d have punched Kano, we probably all would have joined in,” Kate glanced up at him with a grin. He didn’t return it, “Everyone is worried about you. Echo even came up with a rotation schedule for us to check on you.”

Alex exhaled through his nose and Kate caught the slightest glimpse of a smile before it disappeared.

"I tried to get Tigue to phase me through your door in the middle of the night, you know, ninja-style," she paused to make karate motions with her hands, "but we didn't know if you had set booby traps."

The half-smile bloomed into a grin and Alex stopped in his tracks, "You know, you're something else, Kate," he finally met her gaze and she returned his grin.

"Yeah, I know, now come on," Kate pulled his arm and dragged him toward the infirmary.

Doctor Mikhailov was bent low over a bed when they entered, speaking quietly into a tape recorder.

"Cause of death is...exsanguination," the Doctor murmured in his thick Russian accent, "Extensive bites from a serpentine creature in Outworld-" he paused and looked up when Kate and Alex entered.

"Yo doc, we need some help here," Kate called and Mikhailov rolled his eyes.

"Have a seat, Murphy-"

"No, not for me," Kate sighed, exasperated, "For him." She gestured at Alex and the doctor's eyes widened.

"Ah, Mr. Demir. Come, let's get those wounds looked at, hm?"

The doctor completed a thorough exam and cultured Alex's wounds while he stared at the floor like a chastised child.

"He will have to stay off of his feet for a while," Dr. Mikhailov handed Alex an orange bottle with no label and tapped the lid, "And take one of these with food, twice a day."

"Roger that, Doc," Kate mock saluted and steered Alex out of the infirmary, "Come on, let's get you back to your bunk."

--

"I don't need an escort, Kate," Alex protested as she walked with him down the hall.

"Nonsense, yes you do," Kate replied cheerfully, "Alright, here we are-"

Alex put his key in the lock and turned the knob, ready to be back in his bunk and free from Kate and her good intentions. He blinked and raised his eyebrows when the door swung open to reveal his bunk full of people.

"What-" he paused to take in the occupants- Erron, Kabal, Echo, Jo, Tigue, and Agnes were all packed into his small living quarters, "What are you all doing here?"

"Once Kate got you out, Tigue busted us in," Jo gestured to Tigue, who smiled sheepishly, "We were worried about you."

"Your behavior was unusual," Echo piped up from next to Erron, "We needed to make sure you didn't consider anything reckless."

"Yeah- very few of us have ever stood up to Kano like that," Kabal grinned, "And lived to tell the tale."

Alex felt a tightness in his chest as he looked around at the others in the room- they were a mess, a rag-tag group of fuck-ups working for a clan run by a maniac.

But hey, they were his.

[itracing]

Aston Martin Reveals F1 Safety & Medical Cars

When Aston Martin makes its return to the FIA Formula One World Championship at the end of this month, it will be with more than two grand prix contenders on the Formula 1 Gulf Air Bahrain Grand Prix 2021 grid:  For the first time in the history of the sport the Official Safety and Medical cars of Formula 1 will also bear the famous wings of the British luxury brand.

A specially equipped version of the Aston Martin Vantage has been developed for the critical role of intervening and controlling the pace of an event involving the fastest racing cars in the world.  Engineered by an experienced team at Aston Martin’s Headquarters in Gaydon, the car benefits from significant chassis and aerodynamic improvements.  With only a few additional modifications to make it FIA compliant, the new safety car is the pinnacle of Vantage performance.

Aston Martin DBX, the brand’s critically acclaimed first SUV, will also take on the role of an Official Medical Car of Formula 1, showcasing its own power and handling prowess as it launches into action to support in the event of an emergency.

Aston Martin Vantage – An Official Safety Car of Formula 1

Piloted by FIA’s appointed driver, Bernd Mayländer (DE) who has been at the helm of the F1 safety car for over twenty years, the Aston Martin will remain on standby in the pit lane throughout the race.

When deployed by Race Control in the event of bad weather or an accident, the former race driver and co-driver, Richard Darker (UK) will take to the track at the head of the field to safely control the pace of the pack, neutralizing the event and allowing any incident to be managed safely by the circuit’s officials.

F1 tire temperatures can drop when the cars are running at sub-optimal speeds, therefore fast lap times are essential for the Official Safety Car of Formula 1.  This responsibility led the Aston Martin Lagonda CEO, Tobias Moers to task the engineering team with enhancing the already sporting Vantage, focusing on improved track performance and lap times.

The results? Power has increased by 25PS to 535PS, delivered by a 4.0-litre twin-turbo V8 delivering significant performance capability going from 0-60mph in just 3.5 seconds.  685Nm of peak torque remains the same but is now sustained for longer, and with additional work on the transmission means the driver has a better sense of directness, precision, and control through upshifts and downshifts.  The Vaned grille coupled with a new front splitter creates 155.6kg of downforce at 200km/h; more than 60kg than the production Vantage produces at the same speed.  Modifications to the suspension, steering and dampers have also been undertaken, with further detailed underbody bracing modifications to increase front structural stiffness.  All this, together with a comprehensive aero kit and a switch to lower profile tires, the Aston Martin Vantage Official F1 Safety Car has all the credentials to handle a Formula 1 circuit.

Aston Martin is known worldwide for its high-profile successes in sports car racing, most recently last year’s multi-class victory at the 24 Hours of Le Mans that contributed to becoming FIA GT World Endurance Manufacturers’ Champions.  Engineering developments derived from these successes have aided the systems that feature in the F1 safety car.  The unique requirements of the safety car mean the vehicle must be capable of going from top speeds, back to idling in the pit lane without so much as a cool-down lap, so a reliable and robust thermal management system is a key element to its performance.  Having already developed a cooling system that proved effective in extreme conditions and temperatures on the multiple championship-winning Vantage GT4 race car, Aston Martin transferred this technology into the safety car, along with the addition of extra vents in the bonnet to support further cooling.

As it performs on standard Pirelli road tires, the safety car is also equipped with the same carbon-ceramic brakes found on the production Vantage, with additional brake ducts hidden within the front grille to aid cooling.

The safety car mimics the Aston Martin Cognizant Formula One Team car with an all-new paint color, 2021 Aston Martin Racing Green, which was developed specifically to celebrate the marques return to Formula 1 racing after more than 60 years. A Lime Essence pinstripe highlights the front splitter; a color synonymous with Aston Martin’s successful racing pedigree, and most recently used on the ultra-successful Vantage that competed in the FIA World Endurance Championship (WEC).  The F1® safety car is otherwise distinguished by its prominent FIA safety car livery, bodyside mounted radio antennas, an LED rear number plate and a bespoke, roof-mounted LED light-bar, developed by Aston Martin.

The light-bar sits on a carbon fiber plinth, raised above the roof line.  The aerodynamic profile is designed to offer the least possible resistance while providing an optimized flow of air towards the exaggerated rear wing.  Bright orange lights on the outer edges of the light-bar illuminate when the Official Safety Car of Formula 1 joins the track.  A centrally positioned amber flashing light then illuminates once the safety car is in position ahead of the race leader - indicating that no one should overtake; two centrally positioned green lights are illuminated once it is safe for the F1® cars to pass.  The headlamps and taillamps also flash to aid the safe deployment of the car.  The rear number plate displays ‘Safety Car’ illuminated by LED’s, making it clear to see from vehicles behind in all weather conditions.  A rear facing camera is also fixed to the light-bar that feeds a live image into a second rear-view mirror located inside the cabin, allowing the co-driver to monitor any activity at the rear.

Further, inside the cabin the production seats have been replaced by FIA-approved racing seats equipped with a 6-point safety harness, the same as those found in the F1 team cars. Two  screens are mounted on the dashboard, providing the driver and co-driver with a live television feed and a variety of customizable information displays, including live lap timing and the track positioning of all active race cars.  The center console has been modified significantly.  The rotary dial has been moved back to where the cup holder was positioned, and in its place sits a switch control system used to execute a number of actions, including activating the siren, radio communications and controlling the light-bar LED’s.  The ‘Marshalling System’ is integrated into the instrument cluster and the dashboard, allowing both the driver and co-driver to see which color flag is being shown on the track, by the illumination of the same colored LED light; mirroring the system that also features by regulation in all F1 team cars. TV cameras are also mounted on top of and inside the car, to provide live TV footage.

Aston Martin DBX - An Official Medical Car of Formula 1

Aston Martin DBX will also share the Official Medical Car of Formula 1 responsibilities this season, driven by Alan van der Merwe (41, South Africa).  Like the safety car, the medical car is distinguishable by its 2021 Aston Martin Racing Green paint with Lime Green accents - as well as the prominent FIA medical car livery, LED rear number plate and roof-mounted LED light-bar which sits upon the roof rails.

Powered by the 4-litre, twin-turbo V8 engine, also found in DB11 and Vantage, DBX provides an impressive output of 550PS and 700NM of torque which launches DBX from 0 to 62mph in just 4.5 seconds, reaching a top speed of 181mph.  All this ensures the FIA medical team can respond effectively to an emergency.  With a sound that is unquestionably Aston Martin, the active exhaust system means DBX will not only be seen, but heard, as it does.

The Official Medical Car of Formula 1 is required to carry a substantial amount of equipment including a large medical bag, a defibrillator, two fire extinguishers and a burn kit - and the DBX is more than equipped with 632 liters of boot space.

Whilst the interior trim is fully representative of a customer vehicle, the central rear seat has been removed, and the remaining four have been replaced with sport bucket seats, each equipped with a 6-point safety harness.  These provide seating for the driver, Alan van der Merwe and Dr. Ian Roberts - the FIA Formula 1® Medical Response Coordinator, as well as a Local Doctor, leaving one spare, in case an incident requires a racing driver to be driven back to the pit lane.  Much like the safety car, two screens have been mounted onto the dashboard to provide live race footage.  An additional screen is used to read live biometric data delivered via technology in the drivers’ gloves, which in the event of an accident, provides critical information on their condition.  The ‘Marshalling System’ and the rear-view mirror camera display have also been installed into the medical car.

The development of both these Official Safety Car of Formula 1 and Official Medical Car of Formula 1 was carried out by the engineering team at Aston Martin.  Both vehicles have endured significant testing, which included high-speed durability assessments and aggressive circuit driving at the Aston Martin facility at Silverstone, totting up almost 15,000km collectively.  The vehicles have also been tested in a dyno climate chamber to ensure they will perform in all race conditions.

Tobias Moers, Chief Executive Officer of Aston Martin Lagonda said "Together with the whole company, I am extremely proud of the Aston Martin brands return to Formula 1®, the pinnacle of motorsport for the first time in more than 60 years and represents the start of a significant new era for Aston Martin.  To see our acclaimed Vantage, our most dynamic sports car, performing the role of the Official Safety Car of Formula 1 and our first SUV, DBX, operate as the Medical Car on Formula 1® circuits around the world is a proud moment for us all”.

Aston Martin fans will be able to see the Aston Martin Vantage Official Safety Car of Formula 1 in action for the first time during the three-day pre-season test at Bahrain on 12-14 March, and then again during the opening round of the FIA Formula One® World Championship, at the same venue two weeks later.

The Formula 1 Gulf Air Bahrain Grand Prix 2021 will be broadcast live on Sunday 28 March 2021 from 16:00 GMT.

[xparadisexlostx]

Palaemon

So this is a ficlet I’ve been working on for a while now. I don’t know if it’s really going to go anywhere, but I’ve worked on the first chapter, editing and deleting shit for a while and while I have some issues with it, I wanna post it just because of all the work I’ve put into it.

This story will have some body gore/mutilation, and especially as it goes on just elements of things that are Not Ok (and I mean that in a SHIELD brought Coulson back to life against his will and I fully believe they do shady/potentially immoral experiments way). 

I have a whole profile for Winnie that I’ll link when I find it lmfao.

“Data log six-four-seven. Project name: Palaemon. This is project head Dr. Winifred Fletcher.” She wanted to make her voice a monotone over the recording, but as she passed the guards at the entry point and headed up the drive she could feel a shiver of fear crawl up her spine that caused an unconscious little quiver in her tone. It’d been a long time since she’d personally done any field documentation. Years, even. Back when she’d been young and zealous and determined to make a name for herself at SHIELD. Now she had dozens of low-level researchers and new hires in those same shoes she had been, eager to run headfirst into danger if it meant getting her approval. She didn’t have time to deconstruct how she felt about that. SHIELD had always kept her too busy.

She pressed the button on her recording device again. “It is May twenty first two-thousand-and-fourteen. I have been called in to assess a scene at cite three-nine-nine. All seven agents deployed are active participants in Palaemon and were last administered compound HDR 3-00-1 six days ago: the fifteenth of May, two-thousand-and-fourteen. All participants were cleared by medical staff before deployment two days ago, with no unusual side-effects documented during examination.”

Her voice had returned to its normal, professional drone, but something was making her deeply uneasy.

She wasn’t afraid of death. She wasn’t even particularly afraid of pain. It wasn’t the dark gravel drive only illuminated by headlights, or the dilapidated building that leaned like its tired wooden bones might snap at any second that sent chills up her spine. Part of the lure of SHIELD was the thrill of danger, and the morbid, twisted curiosity that came from the unknown. She didn’t fear any external force… only herself and the consequences of her own actions.

Her foot pressed just a little too hard on the brake as she stopped, and it threw her roughly against the seatbelt, which locked like a retractable leash around the neck of an ill trained poodle. A little cough left her, and she groped blindly beside her for the gear shift before finally freeing herself of her bindings. She snatched a bag from the passenger seat and pushed open the door. Immediately the night air rushed around her, heavy and humid, clinging to her skin, laying on her chest, and making it harder to breathe. Cicadas were droning a loud, repetitive song in the trees around her, and by the time she began ascending the stairs to the porch, her heavy breathing had fallen in sync with the alien music.

There was a terrible smell coming from the house, like that of wasting fish and burned fat. And someone was crying. Soft piteous whimpers that turned into wails that escaped the cracks of the open windows. Winnie recognized the voice as Veronica Cooper---one of the field agents who had recently joined Project Palaemon. There were other voices, talking in soft, short sentences that she assumed were platitudes that would make the agent calm down, but she couldn’t quite make out the words. She did note, as she pulled on a pair of sterile gloves, that the attempts apparently failed. The crying only grew louder and more desperate. 

She opened the half cracked door and felt a hard lump form in her throat. When the stench hit her eyes they immediately began to burn in their sockets. Directly inside the doorway, a dead agent was lying prone on the floor, his face straight down in a puddle brown vomit streaked with blood that, upon further investigation, appeared to be his own. His body was covered in bites and scratch marks, his shirt was ripped away to reveal a bloated stomach, and in his still clenched fists he was clutching shards of glass. Winnie looked around, her headlamp only illuminating fractions of the hall at a time, each just as bloody and horrific as the scene in front of her. She determined he must be holding onto the remnants of a light fixture that had been ripped forcefully from the ceiling. Wires were hanging from the hole, and directly below, the metal fixture had been discarded---it’s lightbulbs torn out. Why? The shards were too small to use as weapons. Perhaps he’d been holding onto the light as he was being attacked? Possible. But…

From her bag she produced a tongue depressor as she knelt down by the body. Carefully, she pulled back his lips as best she could. Shards of glass glittered in the bright light of her head lamp. They were deeply embedded in his gums and crushed between his teeth. He’d been eating them when he died. That possibly explained the vomit. But what could possess a man to do something like that? 

“Doctor Fletcher?” A man’s voice called. An agent she didn’t know. She heard Cooper screech and then begin to violently sob. The old, thin floors shook as the vibrations from the other room carried down the hall. That same male agent swore, and there was a scraping sound of wood on wood as if someone had run into a table or a chair. She was going to have to make her assessment of the dead wait until she had dealt with the living.

Winnie carried on down the hall, gingerly stepping over and around everything she could. Blood was smeared along the peeling remnants of wallpaper. And there were no lights except for that which came from her flashlight. Fixtures were ripped out of the ceiling, and there was a lamp on the floor that had been violently shattered with three disembodied, mangled fingers laying in the wreckage. She passed the dining room, her light just barely illuminating three mutilated figures. Each with swollen stomachs and eyes that had been torn from their sockets. They had fallen close to the entryway, each with a single bullet hole in their heads. But she couldn’t stop to observe them the way she wanted to.

By the time she reached the living room, Cooper’s wailing was so loud it made her ears ring. There was no light at all coming from the doorway, and she frowned. Her confusion didn’t last long. The second she stepped into the room, headlamp blazing, Veronica Cooper began to screech and howl like a wild animal. She was handcuffed, but it still took two other agents to restrain her. They were trying to keep hold of her arms while a third agent was attempting to put a blanket over her completely nude upper half. 

“Will you cut that fucking lamp off?!” One of the agents hissed as Veronica bit into his arm like a rabid animal. Blood began to bubble out of the wound and dribble through Cooper’s parted lips before the third agent managed to forcibly pry her jaw off.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, needing to get at least a preliminary glance at the agent Cooper. She looked much like the dead bodies in the dining room. Her stomach was heavily bloated, and one of her eyes was missing from its socket. Claw marks and bites were all over her exposed upper body, and her hand was missing three fingers that Winnie assumed matched those she’d seen in the hall. 

She turned off the headlamp. 

Immediately Cooper went from a raving wild woman, to a crumpled, sobbing creature. When the blanket was brought back to her, she didn’t resist. At least not that Winnie could see. Granted, she couldn’t see much. The only light in the room came from a trickle of moonlight that snuck its way through the torn curtains.

“Agent Cooper.” The doctor stepped forward blindly. It didn’t draw any visible or audible response from the agent. “Agent Cooper, can you understand me? It’s Doctor Fletcher. Can you tell me what happened?”

No response.

One of the agents restraining her chimed in. “When we arrived at the house Agent Cooper and three others were alive. Cooper was in the hall, and we managed to restrain her. I heard crying coming from the downstairs bathroom. There was also gurgling and---running water. No one responded when I called out for them, but when I stepped into the room and they saw my headlamp, they started screaming. I ran, thinking I could calm them down or find some way to restrain them if I could get back to the other agents, but they pinned me down in the dining room, and Tillman and Renolds were forced to open fire. When the scene was secured we attempted to speak to Agent Cooper, but she was confused. She hasn’t said much aside from ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘please’ or ‘water.’”

She nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. “And the others? This was a seven man team. We’re missing two agents.”

“We searched the house and the two exterior buildings but they were clear. Best guess is when things got weird they bolted.”

 “Or they did this to them and fled the scene.” The man who had been bitten growled. He was holding onto Veronica with a vice grip now. She couldn’t see him properly, but the way the poor girl’s shoulder was awkwardly raised while the rest of her shadowy form slumped lifelessly toward the floor was proof of his tight hold on her. “We got a search team out in the forest looking for the-shit!”

Fletcher saw his shadow contort awkwardly as he tried to maintain his grip and distance himself from Veronica all at once.

“Jesus fuck-Renolds grab her. Grab her!” 

“What--why? You’ve-”

There was a thud as the agent dropped her completely and stepped back. “She’s licking the blood off my fucking arm!”

“Water.” Agent Cooper was hoarse from all her screaming, and there was desperation in her tone. The men shuffled awkwardly as Veronica attempted to get closer to the bleeding man again. “Please! Water!”

“Can’t you give her something?” 

“No.” Fletcher said, her response automatic. She wasn’t sure what was turning faster, her mind or her stomach. But she knew that they couldn’t give Veronica anything. Not yet. “There’s a medical transport outside parked behind me. They’ve been instructed on what to do, but ride with them back to HQ and help them keep her contained. Afterwards my staff will assess any injuries you have and release you back to your duties.”

There was a long silence.

She was glad it was dark. If her light was still on, she would have likely seen disgust on their faces. It was on hers. Here she was denying Veronica even the slightest semblance of peace. It was callous at best, and unforgivably monstrous at worst. But HDR 3-00-1 was one of the most bizarre drugs she’d ever worked with and these were their first human trials. Any drug, even a mild sedative, could interfere with accurate lab results. As soon as she’d been given a full examination, her team would give her the best care SHIELD could offer. Fletcher would make sure of it.

One of the men cleared his throat. “The search party will radio you directly if they find anything.”

The agents had to carry Veronica out of the house. She fought them all the way down the hall, but once she saw the light of the med-transport there was no containing her agonized screams. When her cuffs were released she began clawing at her own face, and when the agents pulled them away, she fought them like a wild animal. One of the med staff caught a foot in the jaw as they laid her onto the metal gurney and pulled the straps up to restrain her. Even after one of the men pulled off his jacket and draped it across her face to blot out the light, she continued to howl and buck against the restraints, nearly tipping the gurney onto the ground. The last thing she heard as they pulled the doors shut was Veronica Cooper’s raspy, haggard voice begging for water.

[sasskarian]

Your Danse fic though! Can you do something for "My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand?"

oh, nonnie, have I got a ficlet for you. 

Note: I still maintain that this is all @asaara-writes​ fault. TWs for illness, wounds, and needles.

*** Hozier Prompts! *** Read on AO3! ***

Danse has been a soldier too long to be a deep sleeper. 

That’s the first thing the Brotherhood trains you out of. The indoctrination comes later, because only a good soldier can be indoctrinated, and a good soldier has to wake up at the first hint of danger. So when he hears the first whimper from across the room, his eyes snap open. The night is quiet, except for Evelyn’s breathing. But even as he watches in the dim moonlight of the gutted building they’re squatting in for the night, her arm spasms— and the dog bellies up to her, nosing at her with a low whine. 

Now that he’s awake, he can hear the uneven, ragged edge to her breath in place of the normal steady and slow he’s used to. Switching on his low-light red headlamp, he makes his way over to her bedroll. Dogmeat looks up at him, snuffling at the quick pat Danse gives him. The closer he gets to Evelyn, the more alarm fills him until he’s kneeling next to her and trying to stay calm. Sweat beads on her forehead, rolling down her damp skin in rivulets he might find aesthetic under literally any other circumstances. In the places it’s already hit her flight suit, dark patches lay like lightless pools against her chest. 

Even as he watches, she convulses once, twice, and then a third time before falling so still, Danse checks to make sure she’s still breathing. Every good field medic has scanners built into their suits but Evelyn has something better. He tilts her Pip-Boy, fumbling with the tiny controls until, in frustration, he shucks off the heavy gauntlets and gloves of his power armor. She teases him about all but living in it, and his gut clenches as he convinces the Pip to show her vitals. He taps it, wondering for a moment if it’s malfunctioning, but the high pulse rate and low oxygen levels stay exactly the same. 

Injury detected, it reads. Deploy stimpak?

Injury? His eyes sweep over her, pinning on a darker spot than the rest and rolls down the collar of her suit, hissing. Imprinted on freckled flesh is an almost perfect set of bite marks, flaming red and hot to the touch. Danse tries, desperately, to remember when she could have been bitten. Was it the fight near the old bookstore? Or down outside of Goodneighbor? In his memory, he hears the clang of armor hitting the ground, and a pained goddammit! But when he’d looked, Evelyn had been reattaching her pauldron, a smoking mutant hound at her feet. 

I’m fine, she’d reassured, reloading her gun— the one he’d given her, some absurdly pleased part of him noted— before heading out. It’s a lie he should have known, recognized, after telling it so much himself.

How long had she been out of her armor? How long did radiation last after a radstorm? Danse searches his brain for answers but none came. Lists of symptoms, survival chances, those things dance in his brain, but the best he can do is shrug out of his own armor (that she wasn’t coherent enough to tease him about it stung) and sit on the side of her bed. 

“Come on, Evelyn,” he murmurs. Shaking hands pry out a bottle of purified water and a cloth from their supply pack, trying to clean the bite of dried blood. As he puts gentle pressure on the wound, dribbles of pus and debris come away on the rag and he rips it in half, trying to prevent contamination as he cleans her, holding on to his forced calm by the tips of his fingers.  

Danse’s scores in field medicine had been average across the board, but with his team more versed in it, those skills are rusty and fuck, he wants to kick himself for it. 

“RadAway,” he tells himself, searching the field kit. Attaching the IV to the bag is easier than finding a place to hang it; he settles on taping it to the hip-brace of his armor with the medical tape Evelyn had insisted on. Finding a vein is harder. He bit his lip as he presses on her arm, thumps it with his fingers, curls her hand into a fist. Nothing seems to work until finally, the smallest hint of blue in the dawning light shows in the back of her hand. 

Evelyn jumps and moans as he swabs the area with the cleaner side of the damp cloth and slides the needle in, her eyes fluttering. The first signs of the medicine helping come around eleven that morning, her crumpled features smoothing out a little. It’s subtle, but Danse can tell; he’s spent the entire night cataloging her every exhale and movement. Dogmeat has somehow ended up half curled on his lap, half draped over his mistress, his heavy rump giving a tentative wag when Evelyn’s breathing begins to even. 

The last of the RadAway drips from the bag, traveling down the long, thin tube to her arm, and Danse slides the IV from her with relief. Next is hydration: a stimpak will have to wait, since he isn’t sure what the mixed medications might do. But as he shifts, leaning over her to drip lukewarm water into her mouth, her hand shoots out and grabs his. 

“Nate?” Her voice cracks, ragged and wet-sounding, and oh, how his heart clenches. “I’m so cold, Nate.” 

He— what does he do here? Dozens of suggestions zip through him, at least half fueled by the heat of her hand on his. “It’s okay,” he finally manages. “You’re a bit sick. Just rest.” 

“Mm.” She curls into him, her cheek nuzzling against his thigh; Danse stares, frozen, disbelieving. “Stay? I’ve been having the worst dream.”

There’s only one answer to that, and his voice is soft, almost wondering, even as the soldier the Brotherhood raised to need nothing beyond himself quails and shivers in his cage of steel. “Of course,” he whispers. Slow, so slow and tentative, he brushes through the coppery hair spread across his lap. Danse can’t remember the last time— if ever— he’s touched someone without his gloves, and the silky slide of her curls through his fingers rocks him down to his bones. 

And that's when he knows he’s in trouble. This— the soft afternoon, with wasteland birds warbling and the touch of her hand on his— is boggy ground. He is her Paladin, her commanding officer. She is his soldier, but… she’s also a friend. In this, though, the way she rests against him, warm and shivering and somehow more real than anything else he’s felt before, Danse is knee-deep in emotion and sinking fast. 

It’s past midnight before her fever breaks. Danse has long since given up on propriety, stretched out on his side next to the bedroll to help keep her warm. Dogmeat drapes over both their feet, snoring softly in the night, and the only stretch of time measured is in the small beep the Pip gives for the alarm he set. Slowly, so he doesn’t disturb Evelyn, he reaches into his pocket for the stimpak syringe and eases it into her injured shoulder. She tenses in his arms, burrowing her face deeper into his chest, but doesn’t wake. 

(It shouldn’t feel good, right? Is he a selfish old bastard, for enjoying this simple human contact?)

Still moving slow, he nudges Dogmeat into waking. “Your turn, boy,” he says, almost soundless. The dog is smarter than most humans Danse knows, though, and he trusts him to stand watch and wake him if something goes wrong. But they’ve picked their camp well, so he doesn’t expect much trouble: Ferals were cleared long ago in another patrol, and there’ve been no signs of mutants for at least a mile. So for a moment, a desperately needed moment after almost two days of trying to keep Evelyn breathing, Danse lets his eyes droop. 

Sleep has almost claimed him when she stirs, breathing her husband’s name against his neck. Guilt lazily slides through him, that her delirium has slapped a dead man’s face over his own in her mind and he hasn’t corrected her, but shock freezes him solid when her lips brush his. Once, soft and sleepy, and then again, more firm; not quite a demand, but when her hands slide to his jaw, he knows he is definitely awake and not hallucinating from exhaustion. He pries her hands from his jaw, ignoring her quiet whine, and settles them between his chest and hers, shuddering when her fingers curl into his undersuit.

���Missed you,” she mumbles against his mouth, her breath a thousand soft pleas against his skin. 

“You’re still sick,” Danse says, summoning the words from somewhere deep inside, a place where willpower reigns over guilt and loneliness. “Rest now, Evie.” 

When she finally settles against him, her ankle resting trustingly between his and her hair tickling his nose, Danse squeezes his eyes shut against the prickling that is most definitely not tears. Paladins don’t cry, and especially not over lovers they can’t have. Loving Evelyn would be a betrayal of her trust, of his military discipline, and disrespecting the memory of her husband. (Wouldn’t it?)

But a smaller, sly part of him knows that he’ll tuck this memory in the depths of his heart: the way she feels, the heavy, reassuring warmth of her body against his. How she fits in his arms, and the silken, forbidden glint of sunlight on her curls. How soft her lips are, even in this dried out desert of horrors.

He’s not in love. He’s not. 

But his final thought, before finally dropping into sleep, is a faint wish that maybe he could be, if he let himself.

[hedwigstalons]

International Breakdown

Thunderbird Witch has a problem

Another little fic written for #irrelief set by @gumnut-logic.  This is for @willow-salix who wanted anything using her OC, Selene.  This is a little more sweary than my usual offerings but then so is Selene

xoxoxox

The radio was on, the autopilot was doing its thing and Thunderbird Witch was eating up the miles towards home.  Selene sang along, belting out words at the top of her voice and tapping out the beat on the edge of the steering wheel.

 Ok, she had been majorly sceptical of the upgrades to her little car to begin with but after a few long haul trips to the island she could see the benefits of being able to fly.  It certainly made visiting clients easier.  It was a lot faster in the air than on the ground and she didn’t have to worry about traffic jams.  In just ten minutes she should be back on the outskirts of London ready to finish her journey on the more conventional four wheels.  She considered calling out for pizza; she should be home before the delivery ready to gorge herself on the cheesy goodness.  Her stomach rumbled at the prospect.

Her stomach wasn’t the only thing making ominous noises.

The engine coughed and spluttered; a disconcerting thing to happen at 15,000 feet.  The radio was swiftly muted.  It was one thing doing her best rendition of Les Mis while the car was purring like a kitten but an engine stutter was an instant mood killer.

 The engine coughed again.

 Selene urged her precious car onwards, invoking prayers to every deity imaginable not to let her plunge to her death in a twisted heap of mangled metal and glass.  The car continued to do its best impression of a tractor and jolts could be felt shuddering though its body as the engine misfired.  

 The looming tide of dread threatened to tip the scales into full blown panic as the engine gave its largest hiccup yet.  It was time to contact the other omnipresent being in her life.

 “John, sweetie.  Are you busy?”

 Up on Thunderbird Five John’s attention instantly swivelled to the voice coming through the private comms line.  His emergency responder senses latched on to the tone he only heard when Selene was stressed.  Really stressed.  He switched control of monitoring over to Eos so he could give his witch his full attention.

 “Never too busy for you, babe.”

 “So, um, if the vehicle you were flying suddenly, um, wanted to stop flying.  What would you do?”

 Something told him this wasn’t a hypothetical question. The stressed tone had taken on that higher pitched edge of rising fear.  A quick tap into the diagnostics for Thunderbird Witch showed a serious engine fault.  Unfortunately, unlike the other Thunderbirds Selene’s car only had a single means of propulsion to rely on.  And no wings. If the engine cut out gravity would be making itself known very quickly.

 “Selene, honey.  Firstly just breathe for me.  Now, are the landing controls working?”

 “Landing controls?”

 Ok, so the fear of falling out the sky had wiped all rational thought from her head.  Like trying to land.  John knew he needed to tread carefully or risk the mortal dread overriding her ability to respond.  Selene had never been a particularly enthusiastic flyer and having to deal with an emergency was a step too far outside her comfort zone.

 “Landing controls.  The red button.  I need you to press it for me and tell me what happens.”

 Selene made a jab at the red button and instantly returned her hand to the wheel.  He knuckles were white as she gripped the wheel for dear life as though trying to hold the car up in the sky through her own brute strength and willpower.

 The automatic landing system overrode the autopilot and the car began to sink towards the ground.

 “Um, I’m going down?”

 “At normal rate?”

 It didn’t matter that John now had the full read-outs from her craft up in front of him and could see the rate of descent himself, he just wanted to keep her talking.

 “Uh, I think so.  It’s a bit more….bumpy…than usual.”

 He watched the holographic representation of her altimeter as it ticked towards zero, willing the car to reach the ground quickly but not too quickly.

 Another jolt and the car dropped a good five foot before the engine kicked in again.  The plunge towards the ground came with an accompanying yelp over the comms followed by gasping breaths as a more appropriate rate of descent was regained.

 “You’re doing brilliantly sweetie.  Just keep her straight and let the car do the rest. You got this.”

 The altitude readings fell lower and lower.  Closer to the ground and safety.

 Out of the darkness the ground loomed up from beneath the rapidly descending craft, her headlamps picking out the sweep of a grassy field.  At least she didn’t need to worry about avoiding civilisation.  Or trees.  People tended to ask awkward questions if they saw the unusual vehicle coming in to land. She also didn’t trust having to pilot the craft any more than the bare minimum of keeping it in a straight line. She felt the whirr of motors as the wheels swivelled back to their driving position and a thunk as the car settled on to the ground.

 Selene jabbed at the red button again, cutting the still spluttering engine and letting blissful silence descend.  She leant forwards and rested her head against the steering wheel.  The only sound was the quiet plinks of cooling metal.

 “Selene?  Babe? Are you still with me?”

 She took deep breaths as a wave of nausea spread over her, not trusting herself to speak until the feeling subsided.

 “Selene, are you ok?”

 “Of course I’m not fucking ok” she screamed into the darkness, causing John to flinch at the sudden change in volume.  “This death trap threatened to dump me out of the sky. I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere, I’m tired and I can’t get home”

 Bizarrely John found this outburst strangely reassuring. Once Selene retreated into herself she could block out the world.  A Selene on the angry side of frightened he could deal with.  

 He checked her co-ordinates.  

 She was right about one thing; she was in the middle of nowhere.  Rural Derbyshire if his UK geography was accurate.

 “Just try stating it up again for me.”

 “And then what?  I’m not flying this bloody thing again.  At least not until someone has checked it out.  And it’s not like I can just call the AA to come give it a once over and a jump start.”

 “Look.  Just stay there.”  He chose to ignore the muttered ‘not like I can go anywhere else’.  “I’ll send Virgil to pick you up.  You were meant to be heading to the island anyway tomorrow. This way you just get here a bit early. I’ll head down and meet you at home.”

 The comms went silent for Selene as John contacted his brothers and arranged for a recovery service.  Thankfully the green behemoth was currently deployed on a rescue but that was winding up.  An inventory check showed that there should be just enough space in the pod to pick up the car without having to return to base first.  He could have Selene back on the inland and in his arms before the clock struck midnight.  Or should that be midday if they were going by Tracy Island time?

 For Selene the silence was a chance to try and recover her heart rate.  She regretted subjecting John to her verbal torrent but it had gone some way to bringing her back down to Earth.

 Down to Earth.  That sounded nice.

 What she really needed was to feel the soil beneath her feet.  To ground herself and rebalance the flow of energy.  Flying always put her slightly out of sorts.  Flying coupled with a near death experience left her feeling decidedly off kilter.  She felt the urge to stand beneath the waxing moon and breathe the night air.  To free herself from her mechanical prison.  To reconnect with the Earth in a way that didn’t result in her smeared across the grass.

 She kicked off her shoes into the footwell and stripped off her socks.

 Before she could release herself from the claustrophobic confines of the car John’s voice came back through the comms.

 “Thunderbird Two is about an hour out from you.  Just sit tight and Virgil will be with you soon.”

 “Great.  You think that brother of yours….holy crap, what was that?

 She squealed as something bumped into the car, making the vehicle rock slightly on its suspension.  For the second time that night her heart rate climbed.  She could feel the thudding all the way up to the back of her throat.  She checked that the door locks were engaged then instinctively shrunk away from the glass, sinking down low in her seat.  All thoughts of grounding herself driven from her mind.

 “Selene?”

 “Someone’s out there.”  It came out as a hoarse whisper.

 The outside world was pitch black.  Selene could see nothing beyond the boundaries of the car.

 “There can’t be.  There isn’t a house for miles.  What on earth would anyone be doing in a field in the middle of the night?”

 “Well I’m here aren’t I?”

 “I think the chances of two flying cars breaking down in the same place are remote.  I’m not picking up any other human life signs in your area.”

 “That is not reassuring.  I don’t care about chances, I’m telling you, someone is out there.  I’ve seen Blair Witch Project.  This is not going to end well.”

 “This is not like one of those stupid films you and Scott like to watch.”

 “Cretin.  Just tell Virgil to get here quickly.”

 Selene rechecked the door locks just in case they had miraculously sprung open over the course of the conversation.  John might not believe her but she knew she had felt something.  Cars didn’t rock themselves.  She grabbed a blanket she had stashed in the back of the car, huddled down as low as possible, and prepared to wait it out.  

 The night stayed silent and free of any more mysterious bumps.  It had been a long day, even before her unexpected flight deviation.  In the absence of any more encounters with malevolent beings Selene found herself dozing off under the warmth of the blanket.

 A sharp rapping on the window dragged her back into consciousness with a startled jolt.  She scrabbled at the blanket and only ended up startling herself further as she caught the horn; the sudden noise blaring through the night.

 There was a rattle as the door handle was tried and then a face appeared close to the glass, hands cupped around it in an effort to see into the car better.  Selene pulled the blanked over her head and lay still in a futile attempt to hide.

 The tapping on the glass sounded again.

 “International Breakdown.  Would madam care for some assistance?”

 Gordon.  

 Selene untangled herself from the blanket and unlocked the doors.  She quickly wrapped its warm folds around herself again as a blast of icy air filled the car.  

 “Gordon, how the hell did you get here?”

 She tried to look dignified and not like she’d had the crap scared out of her.  The grin on Gordon’s face as he braced an arm against the car roof and peered down at her showed she was fooling no one.

 “Duh, I flew here.  Like you.”

 “So why the hell didn’t I hear you arrive.  And where is Two anyway?”

 “Virg had to park her a couple of fields over. Couldn’t risk roasting the locals. John said you had some trouble with them.”

 Selene gave him a death glare.  Gordon ignored it, instead choosing to wander round the car and get into the passenger seat.  He flicked the blue button that kicked the engine into life then leant across and twiddled the controls for the lights.

 In the beam of the headlights that illuminated a broad sweep of the field ahead could be seen the forms of several cows laying asleep on the ground around them.  The beasts associated vehicles in their field with food.  Their stomachs and their natural curiosity had caused them to wander over and congregate around the small black car.

 Gordon activated his comms.

 “Thunderbird Four to Thunderbird Two.  Car’s sounding like a tank but I think it’ll make it to your position without needing the tool kit.  Heading your way now.”

 “FAB Gordon.”

 Accompanied by much sputtering and juddering from the protesting engine Selene coaxed the car around the cows and towards the field edge in the direction indicated by Gordon who leapt out to open and close gates as required.  Really she was lucky the cows had been on the other side of the field when she first landed. A collision with half a tonne of prime dairy stock would not have been fun.

 Soon the car was nestled into the pod, safely strapped down amongst all the other equipment and Selene was safely settled in the cockpit alongside Virgil and Gordon.  VTOL engaged with a roar as the mighty transporter made its return to base with its additional cargo.

 By the time Thunderbird Two made it back to the island John was ready and waiting for her in the hanger.

 If John was expecting to be greeted as the hero of the hour he was sorely mistaken.  Instead of Selene rushing forward for a hug he found himself on the receiving end of a finger jabbed in his chest.

 “You, John Tracy, are a shit.”

 His eyes widened as hers narrowed.

 “What have I done now?”

 “You told me there were no life signs in that field. You lied to me and made out that it was my imagination.”

 “I didn’t lie to you.  I would never lie to you.”

 “So how come you were able to warn Virgil and Gordon about those bloody cows?  I know you did because they told me.  Did your scanners miraculously get an upgrade?”

 John found himself edging backwards.  He knew he was baiting the tiger but he couldn’t let the false accusation go unchallenged.

 “I didn’t lie.  What I said was there were no human life signs in that field.”

 Unsurprisingly this did not endear him to Selene.

 “I have had to put up with Gordon teasing me the whole way back because of you.  If I start finding little stick men hanging up around the place I will know exactly who to blame.  Now I’m going to bed.  I don’t care if it’s the middle of the day here, I have been up for the last 18 hours and I’m tired.”

 “I’ll come up and help you get settled.”

 “No.  You won’t. Virgil, who is nice, has agreed to take a look at my car but not until it’s clean.  If you want to stand any chance of coming near me ever again I suggest you get scrubbing.”

 Selene stalked off towards the living quarters leaving a slightly stunned astronaut in her wake.

 John felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder.  He turned to see smirking chestnut eyes.

 “That’s one pissed off witch you have there.”

 John nodded weakly and allowed Virgil to lead him towards the car which had been moved out of the hanger and on to the runway.

 He groaned as a bucket of soapy water and sponge appeared at his side.

 No wonder Virgil didn’t want to work on the car yet. It looked like the cows had some serious digestive issues.  The usually gleaming black paintwork was splattered and smeared with cow shit from its journey across the fields.  As he got closer the smell hit him as the tropical heat warmed the muck and baked it on.

 “Best get started Johnny.  Once you finish here you can move on to cleaning out Two.  This is nothing compared to what fell off the bottom into the pod on the flight home.”

 With another slap on the back Virgil was gone, leaving John to his unenviable task.  

 He sighed, picked up the sponge and started cleaning.

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Mobilize Limo, 2022. Renault's subsidiary for shared vehicles and mobility services have revealed their first series production model. The Limo is designed specifically and exclusively for taxis, private hire vehicles and fleet use. The D-segment fully-electric four-door saloon features features flush door handles that pop out when the vehicle unlocks, LED headlamps with a sophisticated lighting signature with scrolling indicators. It will be powered by a 110kW (150hp) all-electric motor delivering 220Nm of torque. A fleet of 40 Mobilize Limos will be deployed to validate the services it will offer throughout Europe starting in the second half of 2022.

[pcttrailsidereader]

Expert Tips

Originally published August 21, 2018 in the Seattle Times and written by Crystal Paul travel and outdoors reporter. This seems like an appropriate way to begin the new year. 

When collecting stories for inclusion in The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader, I was struck by the number of stories that turned on a poor choice, an unnecessary risk, backpacking alone, or going excessively light.  They may make for good reading but terrible backpacking.

“Just like any sport there is inherent risk to hiking, but there’s definitely things you can do to mitigate those risks,” says Kindra Ramos, director of communications at the Washington Trails Association (WTA). Ramos’ words are worth considering.

Hiking can be a great way to relax, get away and enjoy the natural beauty around us. But while going on a hike can literally be a walk in the park, there are some inherent risks involved when you head out into the wilderness.

We spoke with Sgt. John Adams with the Search and Rescue unit at Snohomish County Volunteer Search and Rescue, and Kindra Ramos, director of communications at the Washington Trails Association (WTA), to learn some tips that can keep you safe on the trail.

Here’s what they suggested.

Tell someone where you’re going

Especially if you’re hiking alone, it is important to make sure someone knows exactly where you’re going and when you expect to be back. Snohomish County Search and Rescue, and Everett Mountain Rescue have a handy “Trip Plan” on their websites you can fill out and leave with a friend or family member.

Adams also suggests leaving information with a friend of family member that includes the make and model of the car you are driving, information on a back-up route or trail that you might take if your original route is compromised, and a date and/or time when someone should alert authorities if you haven’t returned.

Research the trail and check conditions before you go

Before you leave, learn as much as you can about the trail, and check current conditions. WTA provides detailed descriptions of many hiking trails in Washington, including maps and current trip reports on their website, wta.org.

Check trail conditions and weather forecasts before you leave. The weather can be very different even an hour from where you live, and trail conditions can change daily. Also consider things like what time it will begin to get dark, and water levels if there are streams on the trail. In Washington, where many streams are glacier-fed, water levels can rise over the course of the day. For the most up-to-date trail information, call a ranger station. WTA maintains a convenient online list of contact information for several ranger stations at National Forests and Parks.

Pack the essentials

Whether your hike lasts a couple hours or several days, having appropriate gear is crucial. WTA’s list of “Ten Essentials” that every hiker should bring with them includes the following:

1. Navigation: A map and compass, GPS unit, or even a smartphone.

2. Hydration: Staying hydrated is essential. Carry either enough water for yourself for the duration of your hike, or a map of natural water sources along your route and a water filter, purifier, chemical tablets, or means of boiling unfiltered water before drinking it.

3. Nutrition: Bring enough food to tide you over on your hike, plus extra snacks in case you are unexpectedly delayed on your return.

4. Rain gear and insulation: You’ll want moisture-wicking, water-resistant, warm clothing, even on a nice day. Temperatures change and can drop dramatically as night approaches and at higher elevations.

5. Fire-starter: Matches, a lighter, and flint all work just fine. Make sure to keep any fire-starter and kindling dry.

6. First-aid kit: A good first-aid kit will have what you need to deal with major injuries. To make sure you know how to use everything in your kit, take a course or talk to someone experienced in first-aid.

7. Tools: A multi-tool and some duct tape will get you through a great deal of gear repairs and other challenges that may arise.

8. Illumination: Make sure it’s a good source of light. A cell phone will rarely provide the kind of illumination you’ll need in the extreme dark. Instead, carry a flashlight or a headlamp (and extra batteries).

9. Sun protection: Sunglasses (especially if you’re traveling in snow), a hat and sunscreen.

10. Shelter: You don’t need to carry a tent, but a Mylar blanket or tarp can protect you from the elements in an emergency.

Consider bringing more gear

The “Ten Essentials” will likely see you through the most common dangers, but Adams of Snohomish County Volunteer Search and Rescue suggests you also consider bringing along a personal locator beacon and a whistle. He cites several successful Search and Rescue cases in which hikers were found alive and rescued when using locators like the Garmin inReach.

Don’t be afraid to turn back

Ramos says one of the most important safety tips is to remember that the trail will always be there tomorrow. If you are uncomfortable, uncertain or worried about your safety at any time, be honest with yourself. Don’t be afraid to call it a day and turn back.

Educate yourself

If you’re new to hiking or backpacking, there are several introductory courses — like REI’s “Map and Compass Navigation Basics” or “Lightweight Backpacking Basics” — that can help you get started. But even seasoned hikers can benefit from skill development courses like The Mountaineers’ “Alpine/Wilderness First Aid” course. The National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) is another great resource for courses.

Adams also recommends joining your local volunteer search and rescue organization and taking advantage of the training they offer.

“It’s really about the knowledge of what to do,” says Ramos. “Your brain is your most important essential all of the time,” she says.

If worse comes to worst

Sometimes, no matter how much research you’ve done and how careful you are, things go wrong anyway. This is where the gear you packed and the preparation you made before hitting the trail just might save your life. But first things first:

Stay calm. Both Adams and Ramos emphasize the importance of staying calm in a crisis. This will allow you to assess the situation and intelligently deploy the gear you need and the skills you’ve developed to keep yourself safe.

Get to a safe place and stay there. If you are already in a safe place, stay there. If you’re lost, wandering is likely to take you further away from the known trail and make you harder to find. If you’re injured, trying to move around may lead to further injury. If you are not in a safe place, find the nearest safe location and stay there.

Remember your gear. Use your gear to stay warm, hydrated, fed and as visible as possible. If you opted for that locator beacon, activate it. If you brought that whistle, use it. The information you left with a friend or family member will make it easier for Search and Rescue to find you.

Crystal Paul: cpaul@seattletimes.com.

[khivrajmotors]

Triumph Speed ​​400 MY25 - Last Roadster for Everyday adventure

Triumph has created a bold statement with triumph speed 400 my25 in the entry-level performance motorcycle segment. Built with the correct mixture of classic roadster style, modern technology and poverty performance, this motorcycle is designed for riders who want a thrilling yet practical machine. Whether you are coming daily or killing open roads on weekends, the speed 400 My25 makes a comfortable and pleasant ride.

A Design That Stands Out

Triumph Speed ​​400 My25 claims a striking design that reflects Triumph's premium craftsmanship. Sculpture fuel tanks, round LED headlamps, and compact tail sections still give it an aggressive form yet. High quality finishing, strong metal components, and carefully wide styles, this bike feels far more premium than its section rivals.

Triumph has also focused on rider comfort, with an ergonomic seat height and well -deployed handberlaar that offers a natural, honest riding posture. This makes it ideal for both long distance hovering and everyday urban rides.

Performance That Excites

Powering triumph speed 400 my25 is a 398cc, liquid-cooled, single-cylinder engine, providing impressive power and torque. This engine is fine to give a smooth throttle reaction, making the city ride comfortable, while adequate punch for highway cruising is also provided. The 6-speed gearbox of the bike with a slippers clutch ensures quick and accurate gear shift, which reduces tension on the rider during aggressive downshifts.

A light yet thanks to strong chassis, the bike feels tight and responsible, allowing confident cornering and quick exercise. The USD front forks and rear monoshock suspension work in harmony to absorb road flaws, to ensure a smooth and controlled ride.

Technology and Safety

Triumph Speed ​​400 My25 is packed with advanced features to increase riding experience. A fully digital instrument cluster provides real -time information, including speed, gear conditions, fuel conditions and more. The ride-by-wire throttle system ensures accurate control, while several riding modes allow riders to tailor the performance of the bike for different road conditions.

For safety, dual channels ABS and traction control standards come, offer better braking stability and grip on slippery surfaces. Powerful disc brakes at both ends provide strong restrictions, ensuring maximum confidence at high speed.

Final Thoughts

A great option for motorcyclists seeking a modern package that combines performance, style, and ease of use is the Triumph Speed 400 MY25. There is no better riding experience than the Speed 400 MY25, whether you are upgrading from a lesser bike or venturing into the world of high-end motorbikes. This roadster is among the best in its class because of its ability to mix comfort, power, and technology.

[withastolenlantern]

She slept fitfully and dreamed of Scapa Flow. The rigid inflatable ripped across the calm waters of the bay, the wind threatening to pull her hair out from beneath her wool beanie and kevlar helmet liner. Somewhere down beneath the waves, she could almost hear the ghosts of the German Kaiserliche Marine, the steel hulks groaning and restless for over one hundred and fifty years after their humiliating end at von Reuter’s early June command. Their ignominious graves now formed a popular attraction for holidaying divers, and small pleasure craft flitted about the bay in between the fishing trawlers and ferries.

The RIB contained only her six man squad and the limited amount of gear and provisions on which they were expected to survive for the next four days, unsupervised and alone. It was a training exercise for something, but the higher-ups had been tight-lipped about the exact purpose or mission, other than they would be relieved at some point. “Hurry up and wait,” one of her fellow petty officers quipped, only half in jest.

They pulled ashore the small island of Fara and they dismounted in combat formation, Chatham pulling up the rear and splashing into the surf as she grabbed the heavy duffle of gear from under the deckboards of the craft and slung it over her shoulder. They made their way inland in a half-run, half-march cadence suited to the rocky shores and progressed several kilometers before making an improvised bivouac amongst a rocky outcropping draped by thick bushes. The wind-swept landscape offered little in the way of trees or other natural shelter, which served to simulate the inhospitable regions to which the SBS no doubt expected her to be deployed.

It was only mid-afternoon but the winter sun was already starting to slip below the horizon formed by the tip of Mainland, the largest island of the Orkneys. It would be dark soon, and she pulled first watch, leaving the platoon behind as they continued unpacking their gear. She shouldered her rifle and trudged out into the approaching twilight, heading southeast in a path that would take her in a tight spiral around the camp.

The fescue was thick and overgrown, even in the cool February air, as the jetstream and the latitude combined to keep the island chain at a moderate temperature year round. She trudged through the overbrush, her boots already caked in mud and soggy with the day’s rain. The smell of peat wafted lightly on the wind, and looking east she could just make out the backlit remains of the old oil refinery, now abandoned and rusting as the islands fully converted to solar and wind energy. The change had come too late, of course, like everywhere else; the seas had swelled over the walls of Kirkwall years ago, flooding the old harbor and quays. Only a concerted effort from the townspeople had saved the St Magnus Cathedral, the twelfth century church whose steeple still towered above the sleepy coastal hamlet.

The sun set while she daydreamed, blanketing the island in a gloomy darkness. She turned on her headlamp and kept moving, now west, further into the heart of the island. The footing was uneven, and she progressed slowly and deliberately over the crest of a foggy rolling hill. As she reached the high ground she heard a strange sound in the near distance: a sort of soft scratching intermixed with pitiful braying. Following the sound down a rocky path, she found a solitary sheep that had tangled itself in a run of barbed wire that demarcated one of the few private farms sprinkly across the island.

“Oh, little one,” she cooed softly as she approached. “What have you done?”

The sheep had caught its hind legs in a gnarled spool of wire that had broken off from the post, and the skin above its hooves was raw and bleeding from the strain as it struggled to pull itself free. It bleeted sorrowfully as it pulled vainly with its forelegs, only serving to cut itself deeper and further twist the hunk of rusty cable.

“Hold on,” Chatham said, kneeling next to the desperate animal. It continued its mournful bellowing and nipped at her in fear, and she couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the sight. “You want help or not?”

She reached into her combat vest and pulled out her survival knife, the back edge of which was serrated with hardened tungsten carbide teeth. Grabbing the sheep around the neck in something approximating a headlock, she held it still as possible and then used the knife to clip the wire loose enough that she could slide the animal's legs free from the tangled weave. With a final jerk the sheep came free of the knot, nearly topping her over in its excitement to be loose.

“There you go,” she said in celebration. “All better.” She holstered her knife and started to resume her patrol before noticing that the sheep, now free, was hobbling with a serious limp. It couldn’t seem to put any weight on its back foot, and it was listing as it slowly dragged its injured limb behind it.

“Well, shit,” Chatham muttered. Technically she had no responsibility to this random animal, but callous as she could be, her disdain was typically reserved for other mammals of the two-legged variety, and she felt compelled to assist. But what to do with it? She certainly couldn’t carry it with her; and even if she brought it back to the camp, what then? Commission it in the name of His Majesty? For a fleeting moment she considered shooting it, but that thought passed quickly, seeming both unnecessarily cruel and borderline illegal.

“Come here you little idiot,” she sighed, crouching down and tipping the animal over onto its side. It brayed in a mixture of frustration and fear, kicking at her as she gently grabbed the animal underneath the torso. She lifted it into a fireman’s carry, its weight distributed across her shoulders. The sheep wiggled like a bait worm on a hook, kicking and bleeting and struggling to be free from its new prison.

She crossed over torn fencing and followed the barrier down a hill to where it met one of the streams that criss-crossed the island, then east and followed the water. After two kilometers or two she saw the shoreline form in the distance, and just in front of, the soft light of what she thought was an electric lantern. As she approached the farmstead, she found a large pen with a dozen other sheep; most were sleeping but some were milling about and munching on the fescue. The door to the pen was swung wide open, and she walked in slowly and lowered the sheep down to the ground. It brayed with discontent but hobbled off to join its brethren once she let go.

The rest of the farm was eerily quiet; even with the deep darkness of winter it was still only just now early evening. At the mouth of the stream, a small dock jutted out into the bay, and tethered to it was a small motor boat, gently bobbing in the gentle waves of the Flow. The craft looked disused, its hull covered in rust and sea detritus. She followed a dirt path up from the coast toward a moderately sized farmhouse. Its clay and brick walls belied its age, and the roof had partially collapsed at one end, the thatch and beams spilling down into the interior.

She found the door and knocked gently. “Hello? Anybody home?”

No one answered, and she turned the knob gingerly. It was unlocked, and she opened the door slightly and peered into the darkness. Inside were the typical furnishings of a mid-century home: cabinets, a small kitchen space, with a large wooden table dominating the center. Across it were spread piles of mail and other paperwork. A small hallway led into the rear of the house where the roof had fallen in; that must have been the living space. She ruffled through the files on the table: a collection of past due notices, lien statements, and other financial instruments. They were all dated seventeen years in the past.

Whoever had lived here was long gone. It wasn’t entirely surprising. She’d read that the foreclosure rate on non-corporate farms had risen forty-three percent in the last ten years, as the smaller family businesses were swallowed up by the ag conglomerates and their automation. They’d evidently left in a hurry, and abandoned the flock left to fend for itself; they’d continue to flourish, but even with their freedom they preferred the limits and safety the deserted farmstead provided.

Chatham left the farmhouse and closed the door behind her. She briefly stood at the fence to the pen, watching the sheep mill about, oblivious to the realities around them, no further cares beyond the need to eat and shit and reproduce. It was enviable, in a way: they’d lost something they never appreciated, and their lives had barely changed. They’d never felt the urge to flee that revelation.

The rest of her patrol was uneventful, and she returned to the now-finished camp without issue. As she crossed the foggy moor, the light from a central campfire threw long shadows across the bivouac, the rest of her patrol propped against makeshift log benches or hard pelican gear cases. She plopped down next to the fire with a gentle thud and unslung her rifle from her shoulder, reaching out to warm her frigid hands by the welcome heat.

After a moment her lieutenant approached and stood over her. “Petty officer Chatham,” she asked, incredulous, “whose blood is that?”