#Enterprise Learning Programs

[upgradenterprise]

Reimagine Workforce Learning with Scalable L&D Solutions from upGrad Enterprise

Empower your teams with a future-ready learning ecosystem designed to meet evolving business needs. upGrad Enterprise’s platform offers tailored learning and development programs that drive measurable outcomes—from leadership growth to digital and technical upskilling. With expert-led content, role-based pathways, and seamless integration into existing workflows, businesses can unlock the full potential of their workforce through targeted, high-impact training. Build a smarter, more agile organization with Thriversity by upGrad.

[simulanissolutions]

Revolutionize Your Enterprise with Simulanis VR & AR

The future of business is immersive, interactive, and driven by technology. Enterprises that embrace Virtual Reality (VR) and Augmented Reality (AR) are unlocking new levels of efficiency, engagement, and innovation. At Simulanis, we are revolutionizing industries with cutting-edge VR and AR solutions that transform workforce training, customer experiences, and operational workflows.

Why VR & AR Are Essential for Enterprise Growth?

🔹 Next-Generation Employee Training Traditional training methods are no longer enough. Simulanis VR training solutions create realistic, hands-on virtual simulations, allowing employees to practice in a risk-free environment. AR-assisted learning further enhances training by providing real-time digital overlays and interactive guidance.

🔹 Enhanced Customer Engagement & Product Visualization Enterprises can showcase products and services in 3D, offering customers an immersive and interactive buying experience. VR-powered virtual showrooms and AR product visualization tools help businesses boost sales and brand loyalty.

🔹 Operational Efficiency & Safety Improvements From industrial safety training to real-time AR-powered remote assistance, immersive technologies help enterprises reduce risks, improve accuracy, and enhance productivity. AR smart glasses and VR simulations empower teams to perform complex tasks with greater precision.

🔹 Immersive Collaboration & Remote Work Solutions With VR-powered virtual workspaces, businesses can conduct meetings, training sessions, and brainstorming workshops in a realistic, collaborative digital environment. This is the future of hybrid work models and global enterprise connectivity.

🔹 Seamless Integration with the Metaverse The Metaverse is redefining business interaction, allowing enterprises to build virtual spaces, host digital events, and create next-level customer experiences. Simulanis provides tailored Metaverse solutions that help businesses stand out in the digital landscape.

Industries Benefiting from Simulanis VR & AR Solutions

✅ Manufacturing & Industrial Training – VR-based process training, equipment simulations, and AR maintenance guides. ✅ Healthcare & Medical Training – Surgical simulations, medical procedures training, and AR-assisted diagnostics. ✅ Retail & E-Commerce – Virtual try-ons, 3D product showcases, and interactive shopping experiences. ✅ Education & Corporate Learning – Engaging VR classrooms, AR-based learning modules, and enterprise e-learning solutions. ✅ Real Estate & Architecture – Immersive virtual property tours, 3D architectural visualizations, and interactive design planning. ✅ Automotive & Engineering – VR for vehicle prototyping, driver training, and AR-powered repair assistance.

Why Choose Simulanis?

At Simulanis, we are pioneers in VR, AR, and Metaverse technology, helping businesses unlock the full potential of immersive solutions. Our expertise in Extended Reality (XR) solutions ensures that enterprises can streamline operations, enhance customer engagement, and train employees more effectively.

🚀 The future of enterprise innovation starts now! 🚀

📩 Get in touch with Simulanis today and explore how VR & AR can transform your business!

Visit Website: simulanis.com

[solrazo]

Chinabank renews partnership with LinkedIn to empower employees, boost talent mobility

In line with its commitment to employee development and talent mobility, Chinabank renewed its engagement with LinkedIn for enterprise learning and hiring solutions. The contract signing took place on June 27 at the Chinabank Academy in Makati City. Chinabank Chief Finance Officer Patrick Cheng and LinkedIn Learning APAC Head Georgina O’Brien (4th and 5th from left, respectively) sign the…

[rajaniesh]

Empowering Your Business with AI: Building a Dynamic Q&A Copilot in Azure AI Studio

In the rapidly evolving landscape of artificial intelligence and machine learning, developers and enterprises are continually seeking platforms that not only simplify the creation of AI applications but also ensure these applications are robust, secure, and scalable. Enter Azure AI Studio, Microsoft’s latest foray into the generative AI space, designed to empower developers to harness the full…

[dark-l-angel]

may I please request batfam x reader where they randomly find out the reader has Omnilingualism? the reader just randomly drops lore then the batfam is like "HUH?" me pleading:

A/N: Sure luv ❤️ sorry it took a little while.. but here you go 😺

Omnilingualism is the ability to understand all languages.. spoken, written, or otherwise.. instantly and fluently, without having to learn them first.

Batfam x Omnilingual reader + onshot bonus "wait- YOU CAN SPEAK EVERY LANGUAGE?!"

Bruce Wayne:

He pretends he isn’t impressed. He really tries. But the moment you casually correct a mistranslation in one of his case files from an obscure dialect in the Amazon, his eye twitches.

Definitely runs tests in the Batcave. "For data" he claims. Lies. He just wants an excuse to hear you switch flawlessly between Ancient Sumerian and Icelandic.

Low-key starts trusting you with delicate negotiations at Wayne Enterprises. "Accidentally" leaves confidential contracts in languages no one in the room understands except you.

Oh, and you catch him brushing up on his French. He'll never admit it, but he’s trying to catch up to you.

You once whispered something scandalous to him in flawless Latin during a gala. His hand on your lower back tightened just slightly. Dangerous man, but you’re worse.

Dick grayson:

Immediately obsessed. No chill whatsoever.

"Say something in Italian!" "Now Portuguese! Oh oh.. Tagalog!"

Thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. Genuinely struggles to focus if you speak in another language, especially something romantic-sounding. (You catch him blushing like a schoolboy, every time.)

Tries to flirt back in another language but completely butchers it. You gently correct him, and it turns into an unintentional couples language lesson.

You catch him Googling "How to propose in 20 languages." Cute idiot.

Teases you with fake words in gibberish, just to see if you catch on. You always do.

Jason Todd :

Oh, this man loves it. Filthy mouth, wicked grin, and a brain full of bad ideas.

Purposely swears in different languages to see if you catch him. You do. Every. Single. Time.

One time you threw back a sharp insult in flawless Russian, and he damn near swooned.

Has you read his favorite banned books in their original languages. "I just wanna hear you say it, babe." No you don’t, Jason. You want to hear them moaned, don’t you?

Will 100% ask you to dirty talk in languages no one else understands in public settings. "What? I like living dangerously."

Bonus: If you tease him in French, it destroys him. He can’t fight it. French + your voice = his personal kryptonite.

Tim Drake :

Immediately runs to his laptop. He needs answers.

"Omnilingualism is a hyper rare meta-ability.. there are fewer than seven confirmed cases worldwide.. wait- does this mean you can read codes in programming languages like they’re actual languages?!"

Makes you his official decryption buddy. His Batcomputer just became 500% more efficient.

Low-key fascinated, high-key turned on.

Asks you to record audio lessons for him in various languages. You catch him listening to them at 2am with a suspiciously dazed smile.

Will absolutely text you random phrases in dead languages at ungodly hours of the night. "For science."

Damian Wayne :

Instantly annoyed that he’s no longer the most linguistically gifted person in the room.

Challenges you constantly. "Recite this ancient Arabic proverb." You do, flawlessly, and throw in the correct accent for good measure.

He respects you deeply but refuses to admit it directly.

Secretly asks you to teach him rare dialects to communicate with his animals better.

The moment you start speaking to Titus in perfect, gentle Arabic, his eyes go wide. You’ve officially earned his permanent admiration.

Bonus: You tease him by complimenting him in languages he doesn’t know yet. He storms off to study them immediately.

Alfred Pennyworth

Unbothered king. He knew from the start.

Smiles softly when you casually slip into old, classical British idioms even Bruce doesn’t understand.

Occasionally tests you with the oddest phrases from obscure Commonwealth colonies. You pass every time.

"I dare say, Miss, you have a talent most remarkable."

Secretly keeps a list of the rarest languages to see if there’s anything you don’t know.

Family game nights? Forget it. You dominate every round of “Guess That Language.”

You become their favorite asset in undercover ops. Fake passports? Check. Local slang? You’re a walking encyclopedia.

They jokingly call you their “Batbabel.” (Yes, even Bruce lets that nickname slip once.)

Jason is convinced you must have alien blood. "Bet you could sweet talk the Martians, too."

You like to randomly mess with them by switching languages mid-conversation. Pure chaos.

And they all fall a little harder every time you do.

Oneshot bonus : Wait- YOU CAN SPEAK EVERY LANGUAGE?!

It started, as many things in Wayne Manor do, in the most stupidly casual way possible.

You were seated at the long dining table, lazily flipping through your phone while Alfred served brunch. Tim was half-asleep beside you, his forehead dangerously close to his waffles. Jason was reading War and Peace in Russian, because of course he was. Damian was arguing with Dick over the proper form for his new kata routine, while Bruce pretended to read the paper but was very obviously just eavesdropping like the rest of them.

Then, Alfred, with his calm British cadence, said something softly under his breath. In French.

"Mon dieu, cette confiture est un désastre…" (this jam is a disaster...)

Without thinking, without even looking up from your phone, you mumbled back, perfect pronunciation and all,

"Pas nécessairement. C’est la confiture d’orange, elle est censée être comme ça." (Not necessarily. It's orange marmalade, it's supposed to be like that.)

Silence.

Dead silence.

Tim lifted his head slowly, eyes bleary but confused.

Jason lowered his book.

Damian squinted at you like you’d just sprouted a second head.

Bruce folded his newspaper with a quiet, deliberate finality.

Dick? Dick’s eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Since when do you speak French?" he asked, grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

You blinked, confused by the attention. "Huh? Oh, I don’t."

Wrong answer.

"You just did" Tim said flatly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Jason leaned forward on his elbows, sharp smirk spreading. "Care to explain, mon ami?"

Your brain, still not connecting the dots, offered the most unhelpful thing possible: a shrug. "I don’t know. He just said the jam was a disaster. I just... knew."

“Wait.” Damian’s eyes narrowed into slits, laser-focused. "What did Alfred say, exactly?"

You repeated it, casually.

He tried to hide it, but his brows twitched upward. "That’s correct."

Now Jason was grinning like he knew something juicy. "Try Russian."

"What?"

"Say something in Russian," Jason pressed, eyes alight with curiosity.

You hesitated, then shrugged. "Что ты хочешь, чтобы я сказал?" (What do you want me to say?)

Jason’s chair screeched back from the table as he stood, hands in his hair. “NO. No, no, no, what the hell is this?!”

"That was perfect," Tim said, his voice pitching higher, caffeinated brain now fully awake.

"You said you don’t speak these languages?" Bruce asked, a suspicious tilt to his head like he was running seventeen background checks in his mind at once.

You frowned, getting a little defensive now. "I don’t! I never studied Russian, or French, or whatever else. I just... get it, I guess?"

Dick gasped, like someone hit him with a Batarang of Realization. "Wait wait wait.. omnilingualism."

Jason’s mouth dropped open. "No freaking way."

Tim’s eyes went huge behind his glasses. "That’s an actual thing, you know. Hyper rare meta ability. The brain automatically understands and reproduces any language it’s exposed to."

Damian narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. "Prove it."

"Say something in Ancient Latin," Bruce instructed, his detective mode fully activated.

You tilted your head, focusing, and then fluently responded,

"Memento mori, pater. Etiam noctes detectivi requiem merentur" (Remember death, father. Even detectives of the night deserve rest.)

Pin-drop silence.

Jason cackled so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

Dick was clapping like you’d won an Olympic gold medal.

Tim, meanwhile, frantically pulled out his phone, already Googling ‘omnilingual reader discovered at brunch’.

Bruce, stoic as ever, gave you a single nod of respect. "We’ll need to run tests."

"You mean interviews," Dick corrected, leaning closer with a grin. "Because I, for one, have a thousand questions."

"Congratulations" Jason said dryly, raising his glass of orange juice in your direction. "You’re officially our walking, talking, sexy Google Translate."

You rolled your eyes with a crooked smile. "Glad I can be of service."

"And you will be," Bruce added, already making plans in his head. Oh, you were never getting out of this one.

[vintagegeekculture]

Because she was an intentionally mysterious woman initially only seen in a single episode, and before she got an on-air backstory in the recent streaming series, Star Trek supplementary material developed contradictory information on who - or what - Number One, the female first executive officer of the Enterprise, was. To my count, she has four different, completely incompatible backstories in the comics and novels, and this is absolutely unique in Star Trek, which usually keeps it consistent.

Peter David, in his New Frontier novels, identified Number One as a long lived immortal human mutant (like Flint from the original series) named “Morgan Primus” who was an early genius in cybernetics and artificial intelligence, which is why the Enterprise computer has her voice. One of the names Morgan Primus assumed to hide her immortality was Morgan Lefler, and one of her daughters was Robin Lefler, Wesley Crusher’s love interest from the Next Generation Series played by Ashley Judd. Robin Lefler did not inherit her mutant ability to heal all injuries.

Alternatively, the DC Star Trek Comics of the early 1980s said that Number One was from an obscure planet of peaceful, open, friendly telepaths who resemble humans exactly, and that she was present at first contact with Starfleet. They explained that her blunt, direct, undiplomatic manner is due to her being from a telepathic culture that values total honesty. This would make her the first telepath on the Enterprise, with Spock and Arex coming later. Her planet was created before the Next Generation, but her species being a peaceful, open, telepathic race resembling Mediterranean humans who are not well known or commonly encountered in the original series era….well, that certainly sounds an awful lot like Betazoids to me. If this backstory is true, she may have been the first Betazoid seen on screen, in much the same way fans generally believe Trelane was either Q or a member of the Q Continuum.

D.C. Fontana’s only Star Trek novel, “Vulcan’s Glory,” was one of the earliest attempts to give the character a backstory, and was the most consequential long term. The first novel set in the era of the first Star Trek pilot with Captain Pike and a young Spock, "Vulcan's Glory" identified Number One as being an Illyrian, a race of human-like beings who specialize in species wide breeding programs and genetic improvement. This genetic superiority is why she was cool, intellectual, aloof, and a bit arrogant. Her nickname “Number One” came from the fact she was the supreme product of the hyper-competitive Illyrian system, and won at everything from academics to athletics. According to DC Fontana, her actual Illyrian name is impossible to pronounce, so when dealing with humans, she assumed the human name “Una Chin-Riley.” Una of course, being “Number One” in Greek.

As DC Fontana is such an important figure in Star Trek history and only actually wrote one Star Trek novel in her life, many future materials used the backstory established in “Vulcan’s Glory,” like the David Stern Pike-era novels of the 2010s....but more importantly, the Discovery and Strange New Worlds series, which canonized the “Una Chin-Reilly” name by using it on screen (I remember gasping when Pike called her Una in a Discovery episode, meaning they were going with the Fontana backstory, a detail that may not have been significant to the casual viewer). Since DC Fontana wrote “Vulcan’s Glory” in the 80s, a lot more information was learned about the role of genetic engineering in the Federation, however, and interesting things were done in that series to bring her in line with everything we’ve learned since in Deep Space 9 and Enterprise about augmentation and the society wide prejudice against it. For example, they established that the fact Number One was Illyrian was not public knowledge, but that she pretended to be human her entire life.

The one person who didn’t see fit to give her a backstory or even a real name was John "Johnny Redbeard" Byrne in his comic series about the Cage era Enterprise, who thought the mystery of the character was the most interesting thing about her, and he was deliberately cagey about any details. To Johnny Redbeard, she was just “Number One.” There was a running joke that every time someone says her actual name, or when we see her personnel file, it was blurred out, or somebody’s thumb was over it, and so on. It was rather like the running joke where Mr. Burns never remembers Homer Simpson's name. Johnny Redbeard loves mystery men and women who don't talk about their past, since that was the characterization he famously gave to Wolverine in his X-Men comics.

The one detail of Number One's past that is clear is that Number One in Byrne's comics is competent, mysterious, and has mystique, certainly, but she is completely human, without any powers. Byrne always got exasperated that his X-Men co-creator Chris Claremont added fantastical and far out details to the background of X-Men characters (like how Nightcrawler's girlfriend Amanda turned out to be a sorceress) because he felt "some people should just be allowed to be normal." Byrne always said his original idea for Wolverine's "true" backstory was that he was a Vietnam veteran in intelligence who volunteered for bionic experiments that wiped his memory, and disliked the idea he was immortal, and vetoed the very, very early Dave Cockrum idea Wolverine was an actual mutated wolverine who achieved sentience and a human shape (which early X-Men comics hint at). Byrne was reportedly enraged that they gave Moira MacTaggart a mutant power, as he saw her as just being a scrappy Scottish housekeeper.

Johnny Redbeard didn’t give Number One a past (other than to show she was on the Enterprise's shakedown cruise with Robert April as a rookie officer), but he did give her a future, as he showed an older Number One as a starship commander in the Kirk era (aging gracefully with a white tuft like Tongolele), and later, a flag officer in the Motion Picture era.

To what extent are these backstories compatible? Well, with what we currently know about Number One, that she hid her true species and status to avoid prejudice, it could be that some of the other versions were tall tales she spread to obscure her true origins. The John Byrne idea she served as an Ensign with Robert April in the Enterprise's very first mission hasn't been confirmed, but hasn't been denied, either. The Peter David "Morgan Primus" backstory is completely incompatible, but perhaps there are some elements to it that are true, like the idea that the early part of her career involved working as a computer engineer in artificial intelligence, which is why the computer has her voice.

[flavorcountry]

I got a cold and watched that Jenny Nicholson video about the Star Wars hotel (it's very good) and fully lost my mind: even after experiencing a comprehensive four-hour deconstruction of why it didn't work for Star Wars, I still think a version of this would absolutely work for Star Trek. Take my hand and walk with me on my journey into madness, where I have infinite money, talent, and team to make it all happen!!

Overall vibe

If you want to make a hotel/resort experience that takes place inside a fake spaceship, I still think Star Trek is the way to go: so much of Star Trek takes place on ships, and we've seen the rooms are pretty nice!! Like the Star Wars one, my Star Trek hotel is also a simulated starship, but with better rooms and more fun stuff to do.

Are you ready for this shit

Can you tell I drew this myself

You'll arrive at Farpoint Station,* where the concierge checks you in and your luggage gets whisked away by station staff. Gift shop's also here. When you're checked in and ready to head to your room, you're brought to one of several transporter rooms. If you never went to the Star Trek Experience at the Vegas Hilton when it was active, I am truly sorry for you, because they had a ride whose boarding process included getting beamed away: you and your pals were herded into a zone where you were clearly meant to board a run-of-the-mill 20th-century simulator ride, and then there were jets of mist and a sound and suddenly you were in a transporter room on board the goddamn USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D. It was fucking magical and I never, ever want it explained to me. Anyway, that's what happens to you at my Star Trek hotel: you step onto a transporter pad and get beamed from Farpoint to a Galaxy-class Federation starship. Exit the transporter room and walk down the ship's corridor to take the turbolifts to Cargo Bay 1, where a "temporary muster point" has been set up (this is where the guest services desks will be), or just follow the lit-up companel signs to your cabin. Yes, it will look like guest quarters aboard the Enterprise-D, more or less — maybe a little smaller — but it'll have the carpet, the plant, the glass coffee table, and most importantly a window that looks out into space.

Or!!! If you booked the resort, keep heading down the hallway and take another turbolift to a different section of the ship where the holodeck entrances are. The holodecks, naturally, are running a Risa program, so you walk through the doors and under the arch and suddenly you're outdoors looking at a beautiful landscape with a pool and whatnot, plus the resort accommodations where the more conventional fancy rooms are, and also the restaurants and entertainment venues, all themed. There's a Quark's. There's a Klingon bar and grill. A Bolian salon/spa. Talaxian arcade?? Nausicaan axe-throwing pit?!?! Come on!!!!!!!!!

Here, have a floor plan

Key learnings

Two things stuck out to me that the Star Wars hotel fucked up that I think the Star Trek version can do better:

🤷‍♀️ LARP too complicated: Give 'em credit where it's due, the Star Wars hotel fucking swung for the fences trying to make a multi-hero story guests could integrate with, but it just didn't work. Technical failures! Possible conceptual flaws! Too much stuff packed into the schedule!

The fix: Just make it mostly a hotel most of the time. One or two weekends a month, there's a two-day fully-immersive LARP adventure that people explicitly book separately, and it's more expensive (more on that later). But at all times, hotel staff will be in uniform with division colors that make sense: concierge and guest relations in red, support and janitorial in gold, teal for any medical personnel. I think that means the people working in food services have to wear that plaid/vest combo the Ten-Forward staff have on, but there are certainly worse outfits.

🌴 No resort: The food at the Star Wars hotel was good, but there was no pool and no other luxury resort type stuff to do. It didn't sound relaxing.

The fix: Putting an actual resort in the Star Trek hotel under the guise of a permanently-running Risan holodeck program. The sheer elegance of it!! When the weather is bad, hotel staff in gold uniforms can make apologetic comments about how the sim's malfunctioning.

Roleplay though

People are going to want to stay onboard the ship. That's good! The thing about the ship cabins is you can build them in maybe two semicircular layers (the rooms will need to be curved because these are quarters onboard the saucer section, naturally) and just bury them underground. They don't need real windows — you're putting screens in that'll show a space view, especially when the ship goes to warp and you can see those rainbow trails. Inside the semicircle there's a lot of space where you can put the other, bigger sets: the bridge, main engineering, Ten-Forward, etc. None of those have real windows either, and also I don't think it matters where you put them physically: just stick a pretend turbolift in front of all the entrances and make guests take those whenever they need to go there! One thing we're also doing is putting little hidden speakers everywhere that put out a small amount of shipboard white noise; it may not even be noticeable on a conscious level, but it'll be there and it'll be soothing. This speaker network is also a great way to make an actual announcement if there's a real park emergency.

During most of the month, I think the bridge and main engineering are mostly just photo ops — maybe you have to book a timeslot? Just so you're guaranteed some time with just you and your buddies? But I also think there should be opportunities for what I'm going to call mini-LARPing: you and your pals can book an hour-long session and the staff trains and then runs you through a short scenario. If you've ever played Artemis or the actual Star Trek VR bridge crew game they put out a while ago, you know where I'm going with this: for however long, you and your friends are now the crew of a genuine-ass Federation starship trying to survive a battle! It's fuckin' Kobayashi Maru time, motherfuckers!! Everyone gets their own station! Lights flicker! Mist shoots out of stuff! The whole bridge shakes! There might be a warp core problem — better call down to main engineering! Whoever's down there gets escape room-style minigames and puzzles to work out and help their shipmates. At some point — and this will happen in every run of every scenario — there'll be a very mist-forward "coolant leak" near the warp core that forces whoever's in the room to duck and roll beneath a descending garage-style blast door before heading up to the bridge to activate their station up there; bonus points if the player can work in a "We lost a lot of good people down there, Captain." Maybe there's an actor in makeup who menaces the crew on the main viewer from time to time (pick beforehand from a list of villains! want to fight Klingons? Romulans? a rogue Borg tactical sphere? etc). Can you see it? I can see it, and it fucking rules.

I must at this point mention that in my world, you can buy an add-on where a camera crew joins you, and they cut up the footage afterward to make you and your pals your very own mini-episode. Yes the editing and post-production are expensive and time-consuming; I'm creating jobs here!!!! Maybe …… okay, hear me out: there's an array of hidden fixed cameras and microphones built discreetly into the set, and also players are issued a combadge with an individual RFID tracker that pings the cams and mics, so they only save footage when a player comes close. After the players are done, a machine algorithm uses the data gathered to assemble a rough timeline of each player's material and create a draft movie that a human editor can pick up and fine-tune. Yeah?? When you check out, you get handed a USB drive that looks like an isolinear chip with your mini movie on it, and maybe another one with all the raw footage just in case you're feeling ambitious!!!!

For one or two other weekends during every month, there's a heavily advertised, much more involved, and way spendier LARP for people who really want to get into it. It takes place over two days. There are lots more actors portraying characters necessary for the plot/gameplay. Don't bother packing for the daytime: all players are issued a uniform they get to keep afterward. Do I have any details on the scenario or RP? I do not. But I fully believe it's possible to construct something you could run over the course of a weekend that would keep a hundred paying guests occupied, amused, and delighted, provided you have a truly ridiculous amount of money and people, which I do because this is utter fantasyland.

Also it probably won't cost six grand. Probably??

Let's gooooooooooooo

The rest of the time — and I cannot stress this enough — the Star Trek hotel is just a very heavily and specifically themed all-inclusive resort that has nice, fancy rooms and luxury amenities plus bookable ship cabins and opportunities for photo shoots or quick one-shot roleplay adventures for the real heads. You don't ever have to enter those latter parts if you don't want to! You can just hang out at the resort and have fun with all the themed entertainment, which I must stress is going to be both in-universe plausible and great, with something for everybody. Yes, there'll be a daycare, and yes, Flotter will be there in some capacity to entertain the kids. The food hall is my favorite part by far; I could pitch you Trek restaurant concepts all day. Romulan gourmet soup stand. Gummi candy store staffed by Ferengi where all the offerings are shaped like alien bugs. A vending machine where you can get a jumja stick or a three-pack of those nutrient pucks Picard and his new friends kept getting in "Allegiance." There will be an entire plant-based food vendor with a wide variety of delicious options for all meals, and it will be run by Vulcans.

A word on the gift shop

Question for you: have you ever watched a Star Trek show and seen a Starfleet officer pull on a jacket or shoulder a duffel bag that had the words "STAR TREK" on it? If so, then friend, I want to know where you get your hallucinogens because I want to experience this exactly once. All of the gift shops on my hotel grounds sell responsibly sourced, highly thought-out, well-made items that would be in-world plausible and have no obvious branding. Of course you can get a hand-carved horga'hn, but let's go bigger. Why not a light-up Tox Uthat for your nightstand? Ressikan flute for you, queen? How about a whole-ass knife store that's nothing but various kinds of Klingon cutlery? There will absolutely be an entire tailor's shop whose whole job is to put you in the Starfleet uniform of your choice; there may or may not be a Cardassian managing the place who's got a 50/50 cheerful/menacing vibe going on. There'll be not one but two stores that sell little models of ships: the regular ones and the gold ones. Don't tell me you can't picture it!!!!!

I think that's about it

Thank you for coming along with me on this bespoke journey into 100% insanity; now can somebody put me in touch with the Star Trek licensing people and also give me a billion dollars to build all this? Okay, thanks a lot!!

For timeline purposes and because it's fun, I'm positing a version of Farpoint that got built after the events of the TNG premiere where the Denebians got their act together and just built a normal surface base without suborning an interstellar lifeform.

[hms-no-fun]

you were on cohost? i guess too late now, how was it for you?

cohost had its fair share of problems and i could often find the community there a bit too tumblr-core fingerwaggy if you know what i mean. but the site's dead now so it's kind of a moot point. what i find myself reflecting on most these days are the positives.

first, no numbers. i think their no numbers policy was probably a bit over-aggressive, but it quelled some of the rat race popularity contest aspect of social media that often makes it so tedious. i liked their tag tracking system, their robust content warning options, and the absence of infinite scroll. what i miss most about cohost is that their text editor supported CSS, which led to people programming elaborate text effects and puzzles and games in-site that harkened back to the days of flash animations. there was something in this combination of elements that drew out a rebellious creativity in users.

cohost came at a time when social media was across the board feeling terrible (and it's only gotten worse hahaha), particularly as someone who makes shit that relies on you clicking links that take you away from the website or app. algorithms hate this and punish it. users also just seem kind of lazy and disinterested in using the internet so much as letting the internet happen to them passively. but when a post of mine went viral on cohost, people engaged with it. it wasn't just likes and shares, it was comments and additions. it felt like a place that (at its best) encouraged actual conversation and the development of new ideas among like-minded peers. when my posts did well and i included a donation link, people gave me money. it felt genuinely like a website that COULD support professional blog work in a way that was more customizable even than substack yet still RSS friendly, and the Following tab which let you easily see posts of specific users was a REVELATION, like a mini RSS reader within the website itself.

but the enterprise was unsustainable for various reasons (not all of them outside the dev crew's control) and the haters got what they wanted. now our big social media alternative is bluesky, a website that dares to ask the question "what if there was another twitter?" the answer is that it fucking sucks. i hate microblogs so much dude, why on EARTH are we still acting like these disambiguited 300-character-limit posts are the most preferable means of social communication online??? why would you set out to make a better twitter and then deliberately choose to replicate literally every aspect of the user experience that encouraged low-information high-drama conflict fabrication? WHY WOULD YOU MAKE A VERSION OF TWITTER WHERE YOU CAN EASILY LOOK UP THE ACCOUNT OF EVERYONE WHO HAS YOU BLOCKED AND IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A FEATURE NOT A BUG???????? i just don't get it. i don't even get the optimism of the early adopters. i've seen people decry the post-election decay of the platform like "of course the cishets come in to ruin a community that was defined by trans & queer people" i'm sorry HELLO???????? from literally day zero bluesky was aiming to be a hands-off centrist IPO-friendly tech startup, there was never anything structurally embedded within the platform itself to keep this kind of decay from happening, you just happened to be on there when there were dramatically fewer users most of whom were curious tech enthusiasts. seriously, how have we not learned this lesson yet? you can't define a digital culture by the vibes of random user behavior! unless you have LAWS and GUIDELINES whereby you fucking BAN people for being shitheads, unless you enforce an actual code of conduct and punish bigoted speech and design a system that encourages constructive conversation, you are always always ALWAYS going to wind up at unhinged facebook boomer slop!

the death of cohost and the utterly predictable decay of bluesky are a big part of the reason why i've been posting so much more on tumblr. this is like the last bastion of anything even remotely resembling the old web, with its support of longposts and tagging and how easy it is to find random hobbyists doing cool shit you never knew existed before. like, yeah, you have to search that shit out and tailor your feed to not drive you crazy, but that's what i like about it!!! i am an adult with agency who understands that life is complicated and as such i expect to have to put some work into making my experience with a website positive! but in the hellworld of the iphone everything is walled garden apps for aggregating content where the content and its creators are structurally established as infinitely replaceable and uniquely worthless punching bags to be used and cast aside. everyone's given up on moderation and real jobs don't exist anymore especially if you happen to work in the "creative economy" IE are a writer or critic or artist or hobbyist of literally any kind. we've given up on expecting anything from the rich moneyboys who own and profit immensely off of the platforms whose value we literally create!!! especially now with the rise of "AI" grifters, whose work has ratcheted good old fashioned casual sexism and racism and homophobia up to levels not seen in such mainstream spaces since the early 2000s.

i like tumblr because i don't have to use a third party app to get & answer asks at length, and because it is a visual artist friendly platform where i won't be looked at funny for reblogging furry postmodernism or transgender homestuck OCs. it is a site that utterly lacks respectability and that's what makes it even remotely usuable. unfortunately it also sucks! partly it sucks because this place was ground zero for the rise of puritanical feminist-passing conservatism in leftist spaces, so it's like a hyperbolic time chamber for brain-melting life or death discourse about the most inconsequential bullshit you could ever imagine. but it also sucks because it's owned by a profit-motivated moneyboy who has consistently encouraged a culture of virulent transphobia and frequently bans trans women who call this out. so like, yeah, this place is cool compared to everywhere else, but it is exactly like everywhere else in that is also on a ticking clock to its own inevitable demise. the owners of this website will destroy everything that makes it interesting and will EAGERLY delete the nearly twenty years (!!!!!!) of posts it's accumulated the instant it will profit them to do so. this will be immensely unpopular and everyone will agree it's a tragedy and it won't matter. the culture and content of a social media platform is epiphenomenal to its rote economic valuation. i mean, obviously it isn't, zero of these massive tech companies would be what they are if so many people weren't so eager to give their time and labor away for free (and yes, writing a dumb dick joke on tumblr IS a form of labor in the same way that doing a captcha is labor, just because it's a miniscule contribution in an economy of scale doesn't mean you didn't contribute!), but once a tech company reaches a certain threshold its valuation ceases to be tethered to anything that actually exists in reality.

all of which is why i remember cohost with a heavy heart. yeah, it was imperfect. it was also independently owned, made with the explicit goal of creating a form of social media that actually tries not to give you a lifelong anxiety disorder so it can sell you homeopathic anti-anxiety sawdust suppositories. for the brief window of time when it was extant, i was genuinely hopeful for the future of being a creative on the internet. part of why i spend so much time on godfeels, a fucking homestuck fanfiction with no hope of turning a profit or establishing mainstream legitimacy, is that my readers actually ENGAGE with the material. what brought me back to using this website consistently was precisely the glut of godfeels-related questions i got, and the exciting conversations that resulted from my answers. meanwhile i put so many hours into my videos and even when they do well numerically, i barely see any actual engagement with the material. and that is a deliberate design choice on the part of youtube! that is the platform functioning as intended!! it sucks!!!

what the memory of cohost has instilled in me is a neverending distaste for the lazy unambitious also-rans that define the modern internet. i remember the possibility space of the early web and long for the expressiveness that even the most minor of utilities offered. we sacrificed that freedom for a convenience which was always the pretense for eventually charging us rent. i am thinking a lot these days about what a publicly funded government administrated social media utility would look like. what federal open source standards could look in an environment where the kinds of activities a digital ecosystem can encourage are strictly regulated against exploitation, bigotry, scams, and literal gambling. what if there was a unionized federal workforce devoted to the administration of internet moderation, which every website above a certain user threshold must legally take advantage of? i like to imagine a world where youtube isn't just nationalized but balkanized, where you have nested networks of youtubes administrated for different purposes by different agencies and organizations that operate on different paradigms of privacy and algorithmic interaction. imagine that your state, county, and/or city has its own branch of youtube meant to specifically highlight local work, while also remaining connected to a broader national network (oops i just reinvented federation lmao). imagine a world where server capacity is a publicly owned utility apportioned according to need and developed in collaboration with the communities of their construction rather than as a deliberate exploitation of them. our horizons for these kinds of things are just so, so small, our ability to imagine completely captured by capitalist realism, our willingness to demand services from our government simply obliterated by decades of cynical pro-austerity propaganda. i imagine proposing some of this stuff and people reacting like "well that's unrealistic" "that'll never happen" "they'd just use it for evil" and i am just SO! FUCKING! TIRED!!!!

like wow you're soooooo cool for being effectively two steps left of reagan, i bet you think prison abolition and free public housing are an impossible pipedream too huh? and exactly what has that attitude gotten you? what've you gained by being such a down to earth realist whose demands are limited by the scope of what seems immediately possible? has anything gotten better? have any of the things you thought were good stayed good? is your career more stable, your political position more safe, your desire to live and thrive greatly expanded? or do you spend every day in a cascading panopticon of stress and collapse, overwhelmed to the point of paralysis by the sheer magnitude of what it's cost us to abandon the future? you HAVE to dream. you HAVE to make unrealistic demands. the fucking conservatives have been making unrealistic demands forever and look, they're getting everything they want even though EVERYONE hates them for it! please i'm begging you to see and understand that what's feasible, what's reasonable, what's realistic, are literally irrelevant. these things only feel impossible because we choose to believe The Adults (and if you're younger than like 45, trust me, to the ruling class you are a child) whose bank accounts reflect just how profitable it is to convince us that they're impossible. all those billions of dollars these fuckers have didn't come from nowhere, it was stolen from all of us. there is no reason that money can't and shouldn't be seized and recirculated back into the economy, no reason it can't be used to fund a society that is actually social, where technological development is driven not by what's most likely to drive up profits next quarter but by what people need from technology in their daily lives.

uh so yeah basically that's my opinion of cohost lmao

[downbadace]

༊*·˚𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐃, 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃, 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍* - 𝐍𝐨. 𝟏-𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞-𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 ೃ༄

Pairing: Megan Skiendiel/Sophia Laforteza

Attorneys, Megan Skiendiel and Sophia Laforteza, have been rivals ever since they met. Both are hard working individuals who want to one up each other. But when they're chose to help Ms.Gabriela from Gabriela Enterprises for a Lawsuit filed against her company, they have to learn to get along.

Content: Lawyer!AU, Mild Language, Secret Yearning, Slow-Burn

A/N: hi guys!!! thank you all so much for 300 followers it means sm to me that so mamy of you guys enjoy what i write :3 i'll try to post this series weekly but (as of writing this) i am hella busy cause imma be out of state next week so yeah 😭 anyways ily guys and i hope you enjoy this first chapter 🫶

Word Count: 2.8k

Masterlist • Unsolved Series Masterlist

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Sophia Laforteza. The name brings chills to anyone who's ever heard it before.

One of the most renowned lawyers to ever set foot on this planet, and for good reason. See, Laforteza was a part of one of the biggest law firms in New York, Katskon inc., known both famous and infamous for the cases they have and yet to have handled. Lawyers and aspiring attorneys from all across the nation climb mountains just to apply for a spot at Katskon. So it came as no surprise that Sophia Laforteza, a girl that came from a (in both senses) rich background of legal education, was able to secure a job at the company.

Most people assumed it was money or nepotism that got her where she is now. But in truth, it was her hard work, dedication, and passion for the field that moved her up the ranks—and that was clear in her performance. Sophia had worked on numerous lawsuits for multimillion-dollar companies and had never once failed a case. She was just that good.

And it wasn't just her success that got people talking—it was the way she carried herself. If she wanted something done, she’d use every ounce of power to make it happen. She was demanding, cunning, a bit overwhelming at times, but that’s what made her a strong leader. If she needed something, it was done before she’d have to lift a finger. But like in most situations, there was always some dirt that got under the nails. And Sophia’s dirt went by the name Megan Skiendiel.

Unlike Sophia, Megan came from practically nowhere, having no name or legacy to carry on. She was simply just a girl fascinated by the law. At an early age, the girl started reading a multitude of books about legal analysis and different court cases in history (Her dyslexia, for some reason, turned off when she read those specific books. She did have a hard time with Dr.Suess’s Green Eggs and Ham.)

While kids asked their parents for ponies or action figures, Megan asked for a pinboard and red string so she could connect dots to old unsolved cases. Her parents always said that Megan would grow up to be a lawyer and Megan proved them correct, as she was able to graduate early from high school with her remarkable grades and got accepted into Harvard Law at just 17. She was a prodigy among the eyes of her peers, so when she walked into Katskon, she had the realization that she had finally met her match.

The first time Sophia and Megan met was during the internship program Katskon held for graduating college students. The two were assigned to help with an ongoing case of a company threatening their rivals to sue for alleged damages, something standard for the two bright minds. But if you were to ask a witness, they would tell you that the two girls were not able to work together throughout the whole case. Though they were the first among the rest of the interns to find and give the information needed to close the case, the bickering and arguing that occurred made it the whole ordeal difficult.

Fortunately, it also showed their ambition for their work, and they were practically hired on the spot. On the condition that the two would get along. From then on, they were friendly. Bitter at times, but it wasn't like they were smashing glass on each other's heads. It became a rivalry—friendly competition between co-workers.

This friendly rivalry has lasted up to the present day, as they sit in their respective offices across from each other, filling out paperwork and checking emails. It had been slow for the last few days: a few vanilla lawsuits here and there all coming out to misunderstandings or unpaid bills. Nothing anyone really wants to take care of because of the boringness of it all.

Megan groans as she clicks through emails, expecting something exciting to come along only to be met with scheduled meetings and a company potluck happening at the end of the month. She groans and puts her head down, suddenly feeling like she wants to sink into a hole forever.

Meanwhile, in the office adjacent, Sophia finishes a phone call, sealing a deal with one of her newer clients while signing some documents on a recent court case she handled the other day.

“Yes, Mr. Gonzalez, and thank you again. I trust that our partnership with your company can only go smoother from here… mhm, goodbye now!” The cheery voice she lets out on call is quickly contradicted by the annoyed and tired face she puts on after hanging up. She drops her pen on her table as she finishes signing her name on the last of the messy papers scattered on her desk. She sits down on her office chair and takes 3 deep breaths, an attempt to get rid of the growing migraine in her head. Just as she was about to succumb to death, a knock on her door interrupts her and she looks up to see her fellow coworker, Lara Raj.

Like Sophia, Lara came from a wealthy family and an even wealthier family name, having a lineage of famous attorneys that worked in the same building they were standing in. She’s also Sophia’s best friend, so when the girl had gotten accepted into Katskon, they became an unstoppable duo.

“Don’t mean to interrupt your brooding but uhm… There’s a little surprise meeting going on. Something big this time so don't get too excited.”

“Why would I get excited over a meeting?” Sophia was actually exhilarated. She had been stuck filing through paperwork for too long, it was time for some kind of change.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon then, thanks Lara.” They give each other a warm smile before Lara walks off to Megan’s office to wake her up for the same reason. The Tamil woman stands in front of Megan’s desk waiting for the girl to lift her head up. After 2 minutes, she grew impatient and knocked hard on the mahogany table.

“Hey—what, I-I’m up…” She says, jolting awake and her chair rolling back a bit.

“Good, cause there’s a meeting and you’re in trouble.”

“What? Okay, I swear to god, that wasn’t me who stole the wooden stirrers in the breaker room… Maybe it was but god forbid a girl be bored and making little stick figures of—"

“What the hell are you talking about? Y’know what, never mind, just meet us in boardroom 3. Important meeting apparently.” Lara says before walking off to the affirmation boardroom. Megan sighs in her seat, looking up at Sophia who had just finished putting her paperwork in a neat manila folder. She slips in her desks before turning off the lights and walking out. Megan couldn't help but stare the whole time. Yes, she disliked the girl but anyone could see that she was gorgeous. Not just her appearance but her demeanor and they was she presented herself was full of class. As the two walked out their offices at the same time they shared eye contact and gave a polite smile.

“Skiendiel.”

“Laforteza.”

“I’m assuming you’re—”

“Yeah, the meeting… Uh, you don't happen to know what it’s about?” She asks as they both walk in the same direction. Sophia just gives her a nod and Megan nods back. The rest of the walk is awkward, to say the least. Something unspoken between the two followed their footsteps, like something big was about to come up but neither of them knew what. They eventually made it to the board room where their peers had all gathered, including a mysterious woman standing next to Katskon’s Managing Partner (and their boss) Matt Murdock.

“Murdock’s here, it has to be serious.” Megan says, opening the door for Sophia. The Filipina nods in agreement and walks in, Megan following after. The two take a seat on opposite sides of the long glass table. Matt looks at the two before clasping his hands together to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, I’ve got some news for you all. Ms.Gabriela of Gabriela enterprises has agreed to work with our Law firm with a case. I’ll let her explain in further detail while I start the presentation.” The room gives light claps to the happy news. Gabriela’s fashion empire had been one of the top performing brands of New York, and every law firm wanted a piece. The company had undergone many controversies from NYFW malfunctions to animal cruelty allegations, which, of course, always turned out to be false and ruses in rivalry companies' schemes to take down the empire. Katskon has had a taste of the company before back in a lawsuit against another fashion empire, Gnarly and Co., where the opposing company had alleged evidence that Gabriela was embezzling funds from the state that was supposed to go to them. This case, however, never got taken to court, as no solid evidence came to play… Until now.

“Thank you Mr.Murdock. First, I would like to say how much of an honor it is for me to be working with such bright—yet young—minds. I have full faith in all of you that you’d help me out here. Now, as many people know, I will be going into retirement next year. Building up the empire into what it is now has been the best 17 years of my life. But recently, something has been… brought to my attention.”

Everyone leaned in close as the lights turned on and the projector showcased the first slide of the presentation. On screen, it showed five pictures of employees that worked for Gabriela. It had their basic information like age, sex, and the department they worked in.

“That someone in my company will need to succeed me when I leave. These five have been my highest performing throughout their time with me and I trust that one of them will be able to fill in my very tall shoes.” People give light giggles at her hearty joke before it switches to another slide. On screen it showed, what seemed like, hidden footage of people surrounding documents. On the left side were a scanned image of one of them, a quick glance showed that it was from Gnarly and Co., threatening to file a lawsuit.

“However, while looking for a successor, I was met with this lovely piece of paper, telling me that someone out of the bunch that I chose has been embezzling money for our company. However, it didn't give any details on who.” The slide switches again to two scanned documents, one of the previous images and the other similar to the first, yet the year on paper was different.

“You may have remembered the lawsuit they filed against back in 2014 for the same reason. Only this time, they have evidence. And This is where you come into play.” The presentation goes back to the pictures of each of the five employees, yet now the images seem eerie with the new information. Gabriela looks across the room to everyone sitting down.

“I’d like you guys to help me find out if the information given was true and bring my company back to justice. It really breaks my heart hearing how people I have trusted stab me in the back in the name of greater good, especially so close to my retirement.” She pretends to wipe a fake tear off her cheek as she sits down at the end of the table. The attorneys look around the room, unsure what to say to fill in the awkward silence. Matt comes up next to Ms.Gabriela, setting his walking stick against the table.

“Now, Ms.Gabriela was going to interview you all separately to discuss who would be best suited for this case… but I told her I already had my eyes on two of your peers.” At that, everyone’s shoulders tensed up and suddenly posture mattered. They all awaited anxiously as Matt grew suspense on who were the two picked.

“Laforteza, Skiendiel, I trust you two would handle this very well and accordingly.” The two girls stand up at their names being called. They look at their boss before looking at each other, taking a unison breath in and out.

“Yes, sir,” Sophia says, locking eyes with Megan. “We’ll gladly work with Ms. Gabriela on this case.”

Megan nods silently in agreement.

Matt picks up a red folder from a drawer and hands Gabriela back her laptop. He slides the folder across the table toward the two. Both reach out. Their hands meet. Megan’s breath hitches��she pulls back, letting Sophia take the file.

“Good, then that’s settled. Everyone else can head back to their respective offices until needed. Don’t worry you all will have fun with this soon, for now we’ll start off easy with these two.” Murmurs of “Thank you” and “Really? That was it?” fill the room as everyone files out of the meeting. As Lara passes Sophia, she whispers in her ear,” Don’t bite her head off.”

“I’ll try…” She says before walking over to the end of the table, Megan mirrors her movements. Once everyone leaves, Gabriela give the two a kind look.

“Thank you, young ladies. I truly do appreciate it. Now in these files are the run downs of each of my employees, mainly on the ones I’ve shown on the slide but also of some minor employees I’ve had my eyes on. Look a little further and you’ll find the financial details of my company dating all the way back to 2008. I trust you guys could organize everything else from there.”

Just as Sophia opened her mouth to speak her gratitude, Megan beat her to it.

“Thank you, Ms.Gabriela, I promise that we'll sort things out to give your company justice.” The older woman smiled at her and relaxed her shoulders.

“No thank you… The both of you, I really do appreciate it. But I have to go now, I have a meeting in an hour across town so I better get moving. I left my contact information inside as well if you come up with anything.” And with that, she gathered her designer bag, slipping the computer in, and bid the two a farewell.

Just as Sophia was about to make a smart ass comment towards Megan, Matt cleared his throat to get the girl’s attention. They turn to their boss quickly as he pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“Now, I know what you guys are thinking, but I know that you both are very mature and responsible adults, and I hope that you can set your differences aside for this case. This is very important to us and to Ms.Gabriela. If something happens over a slight disagreement between you two, I won’t hesitate to let you guys go.” The words were calm, understandable. But to Megan and Sophia, they meant everything, setting a chill down their spines. They both nod in agreement and Matt smiles.

“Great. Now off you guys go, there’s another meeting happening here so I got to get the room ready for that. Like Ms.Gabriela said, report back as soon as you find something.” They nod again and turn their heels to exit out the door. The walk to the next boardroom, or the “conspiracy bunker” as some called it, was as awkward as it was before. Sophia wanting to get it out of the way (not even knowing what it was) spoke first.

“You heard him, one disagreement and it’s over.”

“...Yeah, I was there too. Dunno why you’re telling me this.” Megan says with a snap of attitude that Sophia immediately picked up. She sighed and turned to step in front of her.

“Okay, fine, I’ll bite. What the hell's up with you?”

“With me? I have no problems here, what’s up with you?”

Sophia scoffs, almost ready to laugh as she smiles in disbelief,” Okay, from the start, it always seems you had a problem with me. Like you’re framing me for something I didn't do with the clear knowledge that I didn't do it.”

“I have no problems with you, Laforteza. My fault for trying to prove my worth to people, you were just in my way sometimes, that’s all. Now let’s be civil already so we can get this shit outta the way.” She says pointing at the red folder in Sophia’s hands. The girl walks pasts her and enters the conspiracy chamber, leaving Sophia stunned, annoyed, and surprisingly frightened.

What the hell has she just dug herself into?

[disillusioneddanny]

If It Makes You Happy (then why the hell are you so sad?)

Tim took a bite of his ravioli and looked around the table at his family. It was Sunday dinner. A monthly tradition where every member of the family adopted or otherwise came to spend a few hours together. It didn’t matter who was arguing with whom, or how estranged from the family you were at the time. You still had to attend the monthly family dinner. However, there were times when Tim wondered if anyone would notice if he stopped attending. If he no longer came to the dinners where he sat mostly unnoticed by the rest of his family. Where he typically sat in silence, having not uttered a single word throughout the entire event. Would they ever realize he was gone? Did they even realize he was there in the first place? 

A part of Tim truly doubted it, if he was being completely honest with himself. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to share with the family his upcoming exhibit. 

Tim was in his fourth year of college. Where he was getting a degree in Art, Technology, and Culture. It was a major that allowed Tim to immerse himself in photography, video art, creative coding, and so much more. He had gotten to work in traditional analog and digital photography. Played around with film and art in ways he had never thought of before while also learning about cultural theory, the expression of ideas, and cultural practices which gave him the chance to truly discover himself. It was the first time he had ever chosen something for himself. 

His entire life he had been groomed to run a business. To at first take over Drake Industries one day and then later Wayne Enterprises where he was unfortunately CEO. But then he had learned about the ATC program at Gotham University and he had fallen in love with it.  He had always been obsessed with photography and even film later on as he grew older and spent his days alone in dusty old Drake Manor. And he had always loved to learn about cultures, he ate up the stories from his parents and their trips abroad. Had spent countless nights watching the people of Gotham and how they did things, and had absorbed it all like a sponge to make up for the fact that he was just a lonely boy living in a manor by himself. 

Even when he had joined the Bats and had made his tiny little place with them, he still fell back on his love for learning about others and his desire to tell their stories. It had just become an intrinsic part of Timothy Drake. 

And now here he was, slowly creeping to the finish line. He had his senior showcase coming up. A requirement for all students who were receiving a bachelor of fine arts. He was to show off all of his best work from the last four years. It was a chance for him to show everything he had learned, and to display his work with pride. 

He had toyed with the idea of inviting everyone to it. To let them see the love that Tim had cultivated over the last four years. He was set to graduate in just a few months and the pride he felt for himself was tremendous. And if Tim invited the Wayne family to his senior showcase, then maybe they could come to his college graduation and share the achievement with them then too. 

It was a big time in Tim’s life and he wanted to share it with them. 

He listened as a lull came in the conversation and carefully cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. 

“I have a senior showcase this weekend for my BFA. It’s at six in the evening in the Wayne Arts Center on Gotham Campus. I would be happy to see you all there,” he said hesitantly, eyes firmly trained on his plate of food. 

“That sounds nice, Tim. I’ll try to be there,” Bruce said politely before going back to his conversation with Jason and Dick. Tim felt eyes on him, though, and slowly looked up to find his little brother giving him a curious look. 

“What?” He asked, still trying to calm his heart just a bit. He still wasn’t sure why he came to these things, why he was even here. Just talking to the Waynes gave him anxiety. Just being here reminded him how much he didn’t belong. How other he was compared to the rest of the kids that Bruce had adopted? 

Damian tilted his head to the side. “I was not aware that you were getting your Bachelor's in Fine Arts. Will you tell me about your degree program? I have been thinking about getting an Art History degree but have been torn between that and a business degree.”

Tim gave him a small smile and rested his chin on his hand as he started to tell Damian all about his degree and how he was enjoying the program at Gotham University. The rest of the family went on to their own conversations while Damian listened with rapt attention to Tim describing the ATC program at Gotham U. 

The rest of the week was a whirlwind as he prepared for his senior showcase, he had sent out invitations to everyone he wanted to come see his work. The Team had already made a reservation to take Tim to lunch before the showcase before helping him get everything ready. And as the day came to be, they had made good on their word, taking him to his favorite Vietnamese restaurant in Gotham before taking him to the gallery. He blushed as he listened to his three best friend gush over his artwork, as they listened to him explain each piece. They asked questions and made remarks about what their favorite pieces were and even tried to buy a few pieces only for Tim to promise to give each of them prints of his photos. 

The three had left with quick goodbyes, each one giving Tim a hug and congratulating him before they made their way from the gallery. The rest of the evening dragged on as people came by and asked Tim about his photos and the small films that played on the movie screen on one wall. He smiled and explained each photo to anyone who asked. He had wanted to showcase his vigilante photos of the bats and birds but it had been too much of a risk to do so. 

Instead he had shown off his photos that showcased all of his favorite parts of Gotham. From the beautiful gothic architecture, the gargoyles that looked out over the city. He showed the photos from the last time Ivy had thrown a fit in Robinson Park and covered the entirety of the grounds with flowers. He showed the pictures of community from Crime Alley and the beauty of the strength of Gothamites who had managed to survive the worst of the worst. 

He also featured pictures of his family, of Dick hanging from a chandelier, of Damian training Titus to do a trick. He had a picture of Bruce, Alfred, and Jason sitting side by side as they each read a different book. One showed Cass as she posed for the camera in her favorite ballet form. They were some of his most treasured memories, there for everyone to see and enjoy. Tucker between the one of Damian and the one of Dick was a photo of Tim. He had taken forever to set up the camera and get the timer right. Alfred had simply chuckled the entire time as he continued to offer to take the picture for Tim but no one was meant to be behind the camera for that picture. It was the only family portrait of his entire family. Cass, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, they all sat smushed into a single couch together, wide smiles and laughs on each of their faces as Tim beamed from the far side, leaning into Alfred’s side. 

The gallery was meant to showcase culture that was important to Tim. To showcase the life that he loved and treasured. And even if he never felt like he quite fit in the Wayne Family, even though he knew that he was the expendable one, the replacement, he still treasured his family. It was why he had invited them, he had wanted them to see just how important they were to Tim. And maybe they would realize he was important to them too.

Only, the rest of the evening seemed to drag on, and not a single person from his family ever stepped through the door. He waited, shoulders tensed and smile polite. Every bit the gentleman that Janet Drake had trained him to be as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He kept glancing at the clock, waiting for Bruce or Dick or someone to walk through the doors, to say hello and look at all the work that Tim had put in the last four years in college. The hours ticked by until it was nearing ten pm and the gallery started to clear out, custodians came in and started to clean up around him. 

Tim cast one final look at the doors before he turned to his photos and started to take one off of the wall. 

“Master Timothy! I am so sorry that we are late,” a voice said and Tim quickly to find Alfred and Damian walking through the doors of the gallery. A small smile spread on Tim’s face as Damian bound forward. 

“I apologize,” Damian said softly, staring up at Tim with disgruntled eyes. “I got into an argument with Father and then Titus scared Alfred the Cat and we spent the last three hours searching for that blasted cat and when we realized the time we came straight here,” he said. “What did the others think of your exhibit?”

Tim’s smile fell and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “They uh, they didn’t show up,” he said quietly. “But if you’d like, you guys are the last ones to show up. I’d love to show you everything.”

Alfred’s face fell at that as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “That is their loss, my dear boy. I would love to see your work,” he said. Before he could stop himself, Tim pulled Alfred in for a tight hug, burying his face in the old butler’s chest as he held him close. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before pulling away. He glanced down at Damian and smiled. “How about I show you my work and then if my advisor is still here you can meet her and talk to her about the ATC program.”

The fourteen-year-old nodded his head once. “I would appreciate that,” he said before grabbing Tim’s hand hesitantly. He followed quietly as Tim showed them his pictures of Gotham, explaining the stories behind each one before he showed them his favorite pictures. His pictures of home and both men let out soft gasps as they looked at them. 

“Master Timothy, these are beautiful,” Alfred said, stepping forward to take in the picture of him, Bruce, and Jason. 

“The lighting for this is amazing, I did not know that I even smiled like that,” Damian said softly as he took in the picture of him smiling at Titus. 

“Oh Tim,” Alfred said quietly, losing all strict politeness that Alfred held so dear to his heart as he took in the family portrait. “This is amazing, Timothy. So absolutely perfect. I remember when you took this photograph. It was right after Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

“I was so irritated, Todd had gotten mashed potatoes in my hair,” Damian said with a huff, a small smile tugged on his face. 

“I did not even realize that Master Richard and Master Jason were hugging in this picture,” Alfred said, a soft smile sti on his face as he took in the way Dick had his arms wrapped around Jason’s shoulders, a wide smile on his face as he laughed at something Jason had said. A small smile sat on Jason’s face, his eyes brighter than Tim had seen since the older man had come back from the dead. 

Alfred tore his eyes from the picture. “How much?” he asked. 

Tim blinked. “What?”

“How much for the picture?” Alfred asked him, turning back to the family portrait. 

“For you?” Tim asked, blinking again in surprise. “Free of charge, considering it a thank you for coming to my senior showcase.”

“I would like this one of Titus and me,” Damian piped up. “It would be lovely on my desk in my bedroom.”

Tim sniffed, his chest tightening slightly. “I would be more than happy to give you both the original copies.”

“Timothy,” Alfred said, turning back to Tim, that soft, kind, smile on his face once again. “I am so incredibly proud of you.”

The vigilante’s eyes burned furiously. “I-I thank you,” he said, a soft sob slipped out of his mouth before small arms wrapped around him. Damian hugged him tight, his face pressed against Tim’s chest. 

“I am so sorry that our family forgot to come to your showcase, Timothy,” he said stiffly. “You are incredibly talented and it is their loss for missing out on this.”

Tim pressed a hand to Damian’s back, feeling tears building behind his eyes that threatened to spill over. “Thank you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he looked around and spotted his advisor. “There’s Professor Maheshawen. She’s my advisor. We can go talk to her and you can ask your questions, okay?”

Damian nodded and pulled away carefully, smoothing down the front of his sweater before he followed after Tim to meet his professor. Leaving Alfred to continue staring at the pictures with a kind smile on his face.

Alfred Pennyworth looked at the smiles on his charges faces and let out a breath. One of these days, Bruce and the others would realize just how important Timothy was to their family, how he was the one who held them all together. He only hoped that they would not realize that lesson too late in life. At the very least, Damian was now starting to understand just how wonderful Timothy Drake was. 

[simulanissolutions]

In today’s rapidly evolving technological landscape, Metaverse technology is ushering in new dimensions for industries worldwide. As businesses adopt immersive digital environments for training, simulations, and customer experiences, one metaverse company in India is truly making its mark — Simulanis. This company specializes in creating cutting-edge metaverse development solutions and virtual reality (VR) simulators, transforming industries from fire safety to pharmaceutical training.

[rackmount-official-my-ass]

What is bus factor? Re your recent reblog

Great question! The bus factor refers to the least number of people who can disappear from a team ("hit by a bus") that will cause the team to stop functioning. A bus factor of 1, as in ms-demeanor's case, means that one person is load-bearing and their absence will cause operations to grind to a halt. It's terribly common and a red flag for any enterprise that isn't essentially a startup or sole proprietorship. Good operational practices will ensure that their bus factor is appropriate to the size of the program and the risks they face, and factor in sick time, vacation, work travel, and anything else that might impact personnel availability. On the engineering side of the house, this will also involve design standards, documentation, and ensuring that you've got enough people with overlapping expertise to fill in or learn what was lost.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

By David Brooks

Opinion Columnist

You might have seen the various data points suggesting that Americans are losing their ability to reason.

The trend starts with the young. The percentage of fourth graders who score below basic in reading skills on the National Assessment of Educational Progress tests is the highest it has been in 20 years. The percentage of eighth graders below basic was the highest in the exam’s three-decade history. A fourth grader who is below basic cannot grasp the sequence of events in a story. An eighth grader can’t grasp the main idea of an essay or identify the different sides of a debate.

Tests by the Program for the International Assessment of Adult Competencies tell a similar story, only for older folks. Adult numeracy and literacy skills across the globe have been declining since 2017. Tests from the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development show that test scores in adult literacy have been declining over the past decade.

Andreas Schleicher, the head of education and skills at the O.E.C.D., told The Financial Times, “Thirty percent of Americans read at a level that you would expect from a 10-year-old child.” He continued, “It is actually hard to imagine — that every third person you meet on the street has difficulties reading even simple things.”

This kind of literacy is the backbone of reasoning ability, the source of the background knowledge you need to make good decisions in a complicated world. As the retired general Jim Mattis and Bing West once wrote, “If you haven’t read hundreds of books, you are functionally illiterate, and you will be incompetent, because your personal experiences alone aren’t broad enough to sustain you.”

Nat Malkus of the American Enterprise Institute emphasizes that among children in the fourth and eighth grades, the declines are not the same across the board. Scores for children at the top of the distribution are not falling. It’s the scores of children toward the bottom that are collapsing. The achievement gap between the top and bottom scorers is bigger in America than in any other nation with similar data.

There are some obvious contributing factors for this general decline. Covid hurt test scores. America abandoned No Child Left Behind, which put a lot of emphasis on testing and reducing the achievement gap. But these declines started earlier, around 2012, so the main cause is probably screen time. And not just any screen time. Actively initiating a search for information on the web may not weaken your reasoning skills. But passively scrolling TikTok or X weakens everything from your ability to process verbal information to your working memory to your ability to focus. You might as well take a sledgehammer to your skull.

My biggest worry is that behavioral change is leading to cultural change. As we spend time on our screens, we’re abandoning a value that used to be pretty central to our culture — the idea that you should work hard to improve your capacity for wisdom and judgment all the days of your life. That education, including lifelong out-of-school learning, is really valuable.

This value is based on the idea that life is filled with hard choices: whom to marry, whom to vote for, whether to borrow money. Your best friend comes up to you and says, “My husband has been cheating on me. Should I divorce him?” To make these calls, you have to be able to discern what is central to the situation, envision possible outcomes, understand other minds, calculate probabilities.

To do this, you have to train your own mind, especially by reading and writing. As Johann Hari wrote in his book “Stolen Focus,” “The world is complex and requires steady focus to be understood; it needs to be thought about and comprehended slowly.” Reading a book puts you inside another person’s mind in a way that a Facebook post just doesn’t. Writing is the discipline that teaches you to take a jumble of thoughts and cohere them into a compelling point of view.

Know someone who would want to read this? Share the column.

Americans had less schooling in decades past, but out of this urge for intellectual self-improvement, they bought encyclopedias for their homes, subscribed to the Book of the Month Club and sat, with much longer attention spans, through long lectures or three-hour Lincoln-Douglas debates. Once you start using your mind, you find that learning isn’t merely calisthenics for your ability to render judgment; it’s intrinsically fun.

But today one gets the sense that a lot of people are disengaging from the whole idea of mental effort and mental training. Absenteeism rates soared during the pandemic and have remained high since. If American parents truly valued education would 26 percent of students have been chronically absent during the 2022-23 school year?

In 1984, according to the National Center for Education Statistics, 35 percent of 13-year-olds read for fun almost every day. By 2023, that number was down to 14 percent. The media is now rife with essays by college professors lamenting the decline in their students’ abilities. The Chronicle of Higher Education told the story of Anya Galli Robertson, who teaches sociology at the University of Dayton. She gives similar lectures, assigns the same books and gives the same tests that she always has. Years ago, students could handle it; now they are floundering.

Last year The Atlantic published an essay by Rose Horowitch titled “The Elite College Students Who Can’t Read Books.” One professor recalled the lively classroom discussions of books like “Crime and Punishment.” Now the students say they can’t handle that kind of reading load.

The philosophy professor Troy Jollimore wrote in The Walrus: “I once believed my students and I were in this together, engaged in a shared intellectual pursuit. That faith has been obliterated over the past few semesters. It’s not just the sheer volume of assignments that appear to be entirely generated by A.I. — papers that show no sign the student has listened to a lecture, done any of the assigned reading or even briefly entertained a single concept from the course.”

Older people have always complained about “kids these days,” but this time we have empirical data to show that the observations are true.

What happens when people lose the ability to reason or render good judgments? Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Donald Trump’s tariff policy. I’ve covered a lot of policies over the decades, some of which I supported and some of which I opposed. But I have never seen a policy as stupid as this one. It is based on false assumptions. It rests on no coherent argument in its favor. It relies on no empirical evidence. It has almost no experts on its side — from left, right or center. It is jumble-headedness exemplified. Trump himself personifies stupidity’s essential feature — self-satisfaction, an inability to recognize the flaws in your thinking. And of course when the approach led to absolutely predictable mayhem, Trump, lacking any coherent plan, backtracked, flip-flopped, responding impulsively to the pressures of the moment as his team struggled to keep up.

Producing something this stupid is not the work of a day; it is the achievement of a lifetime — relying on decades of incuriosity, decades of not cracking a book, decades of being impervious to evidence.

Back in Homer’s day, people lived within an oral culture, then humans slowly developed a literate culture. Now we seem to be moving to a screen culture. Civilization was fun while it lasted.

[tough-girl9]

Dear Data

Summary: When Geordi learns that Data has been forced to resign from Starfleet to avoid Maddox's experimentation, the Enterprise's Engineer writes a heartfelt letter to his android friend about everything he's feeling.

Posted on both AO3 and FFN

-------------------------------------------

Dear Data,

I still can't believe you're really going away. I keep thinking this is all a nightmare that I'm sure I'll wake up from any minute, but I keep not waking up. It keeps staying real. Awfully, unfairly real. You're really going away.

It's so unfair, I want to scream. I want to throw my hyperspanner across Main Engineering. I want to give that puffed-up idiot Maddox such an earful of everything I think of him that his damn skinny head will be ringing for weeks. I want to rage at everyone who was stupid enough to let this happen.

You're one of the best Starfleet officers I've ever had the honor to work with, if not the best. And I don't just mean your super android abilities. It's in how deeply you care about our mission, the thoughtfulness you put into the details of every project you work on, the devotion to nothing short of excellence in everything you do. It's the love you have for your job (yeah, Data, I know you can love). I've become a better Starfleet officer just by working alongside you. The Enterprise is losing so much with your departure, and I can't believe anyone would let this happen.

But I'm not just losing a great co-worker; I'm losing a friend. That might be what hurts the most. It's not everyone who gets to work alongside a dear friend, and I guess I took some of that for granted. I love my job, you know I do, but working with you made the days fly past. I'm realizing just how much I'm going to miss. I'm going to miss how easy it was to talk to you: how I could say something that would leave most people staring blankly at me but you would instantly understand. We were both Perceivers and that's something I'm going to be damn hard-pressed to find again. I'm going to miss your questions about sneezing and sleeping and life and death that made me think more about my own humanity. I'm going to miss watching someone use a colloquialism in front of you and smiling to myself when you immediately turn to me for an explanation. Damn it, Data, I'm even going to miss your never-ending string of awful jokes.

I keep thinking of all the things we'll never do together now. The dozens of ideas we had for future Sherlock Holmes adventures that'll never happen. The plasma flow regulator recalibration that we were going to work on together next week that I'll be doing alone now. That "game night" you were hoping to plan to test out all those 20th century Terran board games you found patterns for in that old replicator program you were fiddling with last week. I know everyone on the Enterprise is missing out – and everyone else in the galaxy whom you'd have been able to help if you'd lived out your career – but I feel like I'm the one who's losing the most. Maybe that's selfish of me, but I feel what I feel.

I know you're not dead, that you're just going away, but it still feels like I'm mourning a thousand little deaths all at once.

I know there are ways we can keep in touch, but it won't ever be the same again.

I hope you're able to find another path that feels as right for you as this one did. I hope you're able to get that teaching job that you were considering and that it brings you the same level of fulfillment that serving in Starfleet did. Most of all, I hope you're all right – out there in a world that sees androids as nothing but machines who can be ripped apart without compunction. I wish the whole world could see you the way I do – white glow and all – and recognize the wonderful person you are underneath that synthetic skin.

I just want you to know, I'm glad to have known you, Data. Even if it had to end like this, I'll never regret the year and a half I had to get to know you and work alongside you. You're the best friend I ever could have asked for. I really thought I'd grow old working on this ship with you, and I hate that everything had to be cut short far too soon. But no matter what, I'll always treasure the time I did have with you, being your friend.

I'm angry for you, Data, and I'm sad and I'm hurt, but more than anything, I'm so glad you were stationed here on the U.S.S. Enterprise with me. Take care of yourself out there.

Love,

Your Best Friend, Geordi

----------------------------------------

A/N:

I wrote this little one-shot about a year ago, when I found myself in Geordi's shoes in real life. A wonderful co-worker and dear friend whom I'd worked extremely closely with for over four years was very suddenly and unfairly bullied into resigning, leaving both her and me unable to do anything about it. This one-shot was just as much my way of processing my own sudden rage, feelings of crippling loss, and deep sense of unfairness with it all just as much as it was about Geordi and Data. And unlike Geordi and Data's story in "The Measure of a Man", my story didn't have a happy ending.

This story is dedicated to Jenn, the best Teen Librarian I've ever gotten to work with. This story is dedicated to all the program ideas we never got to do together, the stories we never got to share, and the time that was cut short far too soon. I'm glad I got to be your Geordi while it lasted. Live long and prosper.

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Sixteen

TOS! Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Sixteen: Facing Consequences

Summary: The Enterprise is in trouble for going rogue to save Spock.

            Captain’s Log: We’re in the third month of our Vulcan exile due to our numerous violations of Starfleet regulation and our battle with the Klingons, who demand our extradition. Dr. McCoy, with a fine sense of historical irony, has decided on a name for our captured Klingon vessel—HMS Bounty. And like those mutineers of five hundred years ago, we, too, have a hard choice to make.

            “Dr. McCoy?” said Kirk.

            “Aye, sir,” said Bones.

            “Mr. Scott?”

            “Aye, sir,” said Scotty.

            “Uhura?”

            “Aye, sir.”

            “Chekov?”

            “Aye, sir.”

            “Sulu?”

            “Aye, sir.”

            “(L/N)?”

            “Aye, sir.”

            Kirk nodded solemnly. “Let the record show that the commander and the crew of the late Starship Enterprise have voted unanimously to return to Earth to face the consequences of their actions in the rescue of their comrade Captain Spock. Thank you all. Repair stations, please.” The crew nodded and split off. “Scotty.”

            “Aye, sir?” said Scotty.

            “How soon can we be underway?” asked Kirk.

            “Give me one more day, sir,” said Scotty. “Damage control is easy. Reading Klingon, that’s hard. (L/N) speaks a bit, but it’s still taking time after translation.”

            “You’d think they could at least send a ship,” sighed Bones. “It’s bad enough to be court-martialed and spend the rest of our lives mining borite, but to have to go home in this Klingon flea trap…” He shook his head.

            “It was all for a good cause,” said Kirk, looking over at where (Y/N) was sitting with Spock. He still hadn’t entirely recovered, but with (Y/N)? He was himself. Spock’s heart had never died. “And there’s a few things we could learn from this flea trap. It’s got a cloaking device that cost us a lot.”

            “Can we at least cloak the stench?” huffed Bones, walking off.

            Kirk shook his head in amusement and walked over to (Y/N) and Spock. “How are you two?”

            “I have finished the test program of my intelligence,” said Spock.

            “And?” said Kirk.

            “The results are that I remain intelligent as ever,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) smiled. “And as humble as ever.”

            “Stating a face is neither humble nor arrogant,” replied Spock.

            At least some things never change, thought Kirk.

            “And I have made a decision,” said Spock. “I will return to Earth to offer testimony. My mind was present throughout the events of your travels to Vulcan, and my body was on Genesis. And—” he looked at (Y/N) “—you committed these acts for me. I must repay that.”

            “Not very logical of you,” teased (Y/N).

            “I am illogical about you, t’hy’la,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) grinned at him and touched their fingers to his. Whatever happened, they had Spock back. They were happy.

l

            “Report,” said Kirk, stepping aboard the HMS Bounty. Another day had passed, and it was nearly time to leave to return to Earth and face the consequences of their actions.

            “Communications systems all ready, sir,” said Uhura. “Communications officer as ready as she’ll ever be.”

            Kirk chuckled, and (Y/N) smiled.

            “Mr. Sulu?” asked Kirk.

            “Guidance is functional,” said Sulu. “Onboard computer will interface with Federation Memory Bank.”

            “Weapons systems,” said Kirk.

            “Operational, Admiral,” said Chekov. “Cloaking device now available on all flight modes.”

            “I’m impressed. That’s a lot work for a short voyage,” said Kirk.

            “We are in an enemy vessel, sir,” said Chekov. “I do not wish to be shot down on the way to our own funeral.”

            “Good thinking,” said (Y/N).

            “Engine Room. Report, Scotty,” said Kirk.

            “We’re ready, sir,” said Scotty. “I’ve converted the dilithium sequencer into something less primitive, and, Admiral, I replaced the Klingon food packs. They were giving me sour stomach.”

            “Is that what is was?” sighed Kirk. He clapped his hands together. “Prepare for departure.” He looked at the Vulcan workers finishing their repairs before heading out. “Saavik.” She looked at him. “This is goodbye.”

            “Yes, Admiral,” said Saavik.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N). “For protecting Spock on Genesis.”

            Saavik bowed her head. “It was logical.”

            (Y/N) smiled.

            “Admiral, I have not had the opportunity to tell you about your son,” said Saavik, looking at Kirk again. “David died most bravely. He saved Spock. He saved us all. I thought you should know.”

            Kirk’s gaze went to the ground, and clouds of grief billowed around him. However, he was also proud of David. “Thank you, Saavik.”

            She nodded and turned to address Spock. “Good day, Captain Spock. May your journey be free of incident.”

            “Live long and prosper, Lieutenant,” said Spock, letting her go. He looked at Kirk. “It is time?”

            “It is,” said Kirk. “Are you sure you want to come? You’re free to recover here.”

            “I don’t want you to stress yourself out trying to fight a hopeless battle.” (Y/N) touched Spock’s arm. “We’re going to take the consequences of our actions.”

            “You did everything for me,” said Spock. “I will speak to it and the Klingon’s actions.” He looked down at his white robes. “However, I will do so out of uniform as I seem to have misplaced my own.”

            “I’m sure you’ll do as well as ever as our Science Officer,” said Kirk, smiling. “Take your station.”

            (Y/N) grinned. The Enterprise crew was together. They had that, no matter what else happened.

            “Are you two sure this is a bright idea?” said Bones, looking over Kirk and (Y/N)’s shoulders at Spock.

            “What do you mean?” said Kirk.

            “Spock comes back from the dead and just goes back to his post? We aren’t worried about that?” said Bones. “He’s still not exactly working on all thrusters; he’s just still head-over-heels for (Y/N).”

            “Isn’t that the core of his personality, as you always complained?” said Kirk.

            Bones paused. “Yes, but that’s not the point.”

            “Bones, we’ll keep an eye on them,” said (Y/N). “I’m monitoring him through our bond. He wants to speak for us. And I’m not going to force him to sit back. Not when we would never do that if he was in our situation.”

            “When you put it like that, I sound like the bad guy for being a doctor,” sighed Bones.

            “I’m sure Spock will be glad to know we’re all looking out for him,” said Kirk. “Even you.”

            “You tell him I’m worried and I’ll never treat you for a stupid injury again,” grumbled Bones.

            Kirk chuckled and took his seat. (Y/N) shook their head in amusement and headed to their station while Bones crossed his arms and sat down.

            “Mr. Sulu,” said Kirk. “Take us home.”

            “Aye, Admiral.” Sulu pushed a lever forward, and the thrusters activated. With another button, the landing gear retracted, and the Bounty floated up into the air. “One quarter impulse power.” He flew them forward towards the sunlight and the stars beyond.

l

            “Estimating planet Earth, 1.6 hours, present speed,” said Sulu as they flew.

            “Continue on course,” said Kirk. “Mr. Chekov, any sign of Federation escort?”

            “No, sir, and no Federation vessels on assigned patrol stations,” said Chekov.

            “That’s odd,” said Kirk. “(L/N), Uhura, what’s on the comms channels?”

            “Very active, sir,” said Uhura. “It’s almost gibberish.”

            “There’s multiphasic, overlapping transmissions,” said (Y/N). “We’ll need a moment to try to sort it out.”

            “Hi.” Bones sat down next to Spock. “Busy?”

            Spock raised a brow. “(Y/N) is busy. I am monitoring.”

            Bones cleared his throat. “Well, I just wanted to say it sure is nice to have your katra back in your head and not mine. What I mean is, I may have carried your soul, but I sure couldn’t fill your shoes.”

            “My shoes? We wear different sizes,” said Spock.

            “Forget it,” said Bones. He paused. “Perhaps we could cover a little philosophical ground, life, death, things of that nature.”

            “Doctor, we rarely agree on such matters,” said Spock.

            “Not, but we always like a debate,” said Bones. “Plus, you’ve been there and back!”

            “It would be impossible to discuss without a common frame of reference,” said Spock.

            “…You’re joking,” said Bones.

            “A joke is a story with a humorous climax,” said Spock.

            “You mean I have to die to discuss your insights on death?” said Bones.

            “Please don’t,” said (Y/N), finishing their job. “Admiral, we’re getting quite a few distress calls.”

            “I don’t doubt it,” said Bones to himself.

            “What’s going on?” asked Kirk.

            “It—” (Y/N) frowned. “We’re now receiving a message coming from the Federation. It’s going out to every ship in the area.”

            “On screen,” said Kirk instantly.

            Static appeared onscreen, barely focusing into a picture of the president of the Federation. It seemed the signal was nearly being blocked.

            “This is the President of the United Federation of Planets,” said the president. “Do not approach Earth. The transmissions of an orbiting probe are causing critical damage to this planet.”

            (Y/N) raised their brows in surprise.

            “It has almost totally ionized our atmosphere,” continued the president. “All power sources have failed. All Earth-orbiting satellites are powerless. The probe is vaporizing our oceans. We cannot survive unless a way can be found to respond to the probe. Further communications may not be possible. Save your energy. Save yourselves. Avoid the planet Earth at all costs. Farewell.” The message fritzed out, leaving them with static again.

            Spock and (Y/N) looked at the humans in the room. Each sat still with heavy emotions on their shoulders, mixes of shock, fear, and sorrow. Kirk turned around in his chair to face his crew, but he found himself unable to speak as he looked at each of them.

            “Can you let us hear the probe’s transmission?” said Kirk.

            “Yes, sir,” said (Y/N). “On speakers.”

            A low bellow, long and wailing, echoed in the Bridge. It was pained and mournful, humming with electricity as it came through the speakers. The keen wailed several times, and each time felt more agonized than the last.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow. Whoever had sent this was unhappy, that was certain. But who—or what—was attempting communication?

            “Spock, what do you make of that?” asked Kirk.

            “Most unusual,” said Spock. “An unknown form of energy of great power and intelligence, evidently unaware that its transmissions are destructive. (Y/N), do you concur?”

            They nodded. “I doubt its intentions are hostile. The sound is…pained more than angry.”

            “And this is its way of saying ‘hi, there’ to men on Earth?” said Bones.

            “There are other forms of intelligence on Earth, Doctor,” said Spock. “Only human arrogance would assume the message must be meant for man.”

            “But I doubt it’s the computers like our encounter with Voyager,” added (Y/N).

            “Oh, great, so it’s still a mystery,” said Bones.

            “So you two are suggesting that the transmission is meant for a life form other than man?” said Kirk.

            “It is at least a possibility, Admiral,” said Spock. “The President did say it was directed at Earth’s oceans.”

            “Uhura, can you modify the probe signals accounting for density and temperature and salinity factors?” said Kirk.

            “I can try, sir,” said Uhura. She paused and fiddled with the Klingon controls. “I think I have it, sir.”

            The bellowing had lost the metallic hum and become melodic, beautiful even. It sounded like the call of a friend.

            “And this is what it would sound like underwater?” said Kirk.

            “Yes, sir,” said Uhura.

            “It’s beautiful,” said (Y/N).

            “Fascinating,” said Spock. “If my suspicion is correct, there can be no response to this message. Excuse me.” He turned away.

            “Spock, dear, where are you going?” asked (Y/N).

            “To test my theory,” said Spock, heading out of the Bridge.

            (Y/N) sighed and followed. This was definitely their husband, that was certain.

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[roseaesynstylae]

Jedi-related Technology — Light of the Jedi

These were the crafts of the Jedi Order, their Vectors. As the Jedi and the Republic worked as one, so did the great craft and its Jedi contingent. Larger ships exited the Third Horizon’s hangars as well, the Republic’s workhorses: Longbeams. Versatile vessels, each able to perform duties in combat, search and rescue, transport, and anything else their crews might require.

The Vectors were configured as single- or dual-passenger craft, for not all Jedi traveled alone. Some brought their Padawans with them, so they might learn what their masters had to teach. The Longbeams could be flown by as few as three crew, but could comfortably carry up to twenty-four — soldiers, diplomats, metics, techs — whatever was needed.”

“The Vectors were as minimally designed as a starship could be. Little shielding, almost no weaponry, very little assistance. Their capabilities were defined by their pilots. The Jedi were the shielding, the weaponry, the minds that calculated what the vessel could achieve and where it could go. Vectors were small, nimble. A fleet of them together was a sight to behold, the Jedi inside coordinating their movements via the Force, achieving a level of precision no droid or ordinary pilot could match.

They looked like a flock of birds, or perhaps fallen leaves swirling in a gust of wind, all drawn in the same direction, linked together by some invisible connection…some Force. Bell had seen an exhibition on Coruscant once, as part of the Temple’s outreach programs. Three hundred Vectors moving together, gold and silver darts shining in the sun above Senate Plaza. They split apart and wove into braids and whipped past each other at incredible, impossible speed. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. People called it a Drift. A Drift of Vectors.”

“[…] Weapons on a Vector could only be operated with a lightsaber key, a way to ensure they were not used by non-Jedi, and that every time they used, it was a well-considered action.

An additional advantage— the ship’s laser could be scaled up or down via a toggle on the control sticks. Not every shot had to kill. They could disable, warn…every option was available to them.”

“They were riding in another vehicle customer-designed by Valkeri Enterprises for the Jedi — a Vanguard, the land-based equivalent to the Vector. It was also sometimes called a V-wheel, even though the thing didn’t always use its wheels to get around. Every Jedi outpost had at least one as part of its standard kit, and the machine was engineered to operate in all of the planetary environments in which those stationed were situated [?]. It could operate as a wheeled or tracked ground transport, or a repulsorlift speeder for ground too rugged for tank treads. A Vanguard even had limited utility as an amphibious or even submersible vehicle, being able to seal itself off entirely as needed. It could do everything but fly, and that came in handy on Elphrona, where the planet’s strong magnetic fields made certain regions utterly inhospitable to flying craft.

The overall aesthetic was analogous to Vectors — smooth, sleek lines, with curves and straight edges integrated into an appealingly geometric whole. Behind the seats in the driver’s cabin — currently occupied by Indeera Stokes and Loden Greatstorm — was a large, multipurpose passenger area, with space to store any gear that a mission might require. Vanguards were more rugged than Vectors, but were built with many of the same Jedi-related features as their flying cousins. The weapons systems required a lightsaber key, and many of the controls were mechanical in nature, so as to be operated — in an emergency — via an application of the Force rather than through electronics.

No Jedi would use the Force to accomplish something as easily done with their hand — but lives had been saved by the ability to unlock a Vanguard’s hatch from a distance, or fire its weapons, or even make it move.”

“Indeera slipped past them to the rear of the vehicle, where its two Veil speeders were stored on racks, one above the other. Like all the Valkeri Enterprises built for the older, they were designed for Force-users, and as such were delicate, highly responsive machines. Little more than a seat strapped to a hollow duralium frame, with a single repulsor and four winglike attachments that sprang from its side, a Veil was basically a flying stick. But if you knew how to to ride them, they were incredibly fast and maneuverable. A group of skilled riders, with lightsabers out and ready, could take down entire platoons of armored vehicles while sending blasterfire back at attackers.”

“At the moment, she was aboard the Ataraxia, the Jedi’s beautiful, elegant starship, almost a temple in and of itself.”

“Another ship was visible on his display, outside his command authority but certainly an ally: the Ataraxia, the one large starship under the direct control of the Jedi Order. It was a beautiful ship, designed to subtly evoke the Order’s symbol with its hull and sweeping, curved wings accented in white and gold.”