#Master Terminal Unit

[creativeera]

Power SCADA: Understanding SCADA Systems and Their Importance in the Modern Power Grid

What Are SCADA Systems? Supervisory control and data acquisition (SCADA) systems are specialized computer systems that monitor and control industrial, infrastructure, or facility-based processes. In the power industry, SCADA systems provide centralized monitoring and control of electrical networks and infrastructure from a control center. They collect real-time data from remote equipment like power generators, transmission lines, substations, and distribution lines. This data is then analyzed and used to detect or respond to issues like power outages or emergencies. SCADA systems use programmable logic controllers (PLCs) or remote terminal units (RTUs) located at remote sites to interface with electrical equipment and sensors gathering data on things like voltage, power load, equipment status, and environmental conditions. The gathered information is transmitted back to a centralized control center via a communication infrastructure, typically through networks, telephone lines, microwave, satellite, or dual radio. At the control center, operators can supervise and control field equipment using SCADA interface applications on networked computers or workstations. Some key functions performed include switching equipment like circuit breakers, monitoring generation levels, load balancing across grids, and issuing control commands in emergency situations. How SCADA Improves Grid Operations and Reliability The use of Power SCADA systems has provided numerous benefits to utility companies and power system operations. Real-time monitoring of networks from a central location allows operators to rapidly detect and diagnose issues affecting service. Quick recognition of faults or overloads helps reduce the impact of outages by pinpointing problem areas for faster restoration of service. SCADA also facilitates centralized remote operation of grid infrastructure like switching substations online or offline to route power. This improves flexibility to reroute power in emergencies or maintenance scenarios. The data collection abilities of SCADA are invaluable for transmission scheduling, load forecasting, and power market operations. Meter readings, generation levels and load profiles give operators insights into network capacity and electricity demand patterns. They can do optimal power dispatch to generation units based on economics. Remote access also enables power utilities to defer capital costs by upgrading aging infrastructure over time instead of all at once. Expandable SCADA systems support integrating renewable energy sources into grids by balancing variable energy inputs. Overall, its capabilities have significantly enhanced power system reliability, efficiency, safety and resilience against disruptions. Cybersecurity Challenges for SCADA in Power Infrastructure While SCADA systems have provided clear benefits, their introduction has coincided with new cybersecurity risks that utilities must address. The networked nature of SCADA and its integration into business systems exposes it to both internal and external threats. Remote access ports into control centers pose attack surfaces if not properly secured. Commonly exploited vulnerabilities include weak authentication, lack of access controls, and failure to update aging SCADA protocols no longer receiving security patches. Get more insights on Power SCADA Market

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Alice Mutum is a seasoned senior content editor at Coherent Market Insights, leveraging extensive expertise gained from her previous role as a content writer. With seven years in content development, Alice masterfully employs SEO best practices and cutting-edge digital marketing strategies to craft high-ranking, impactful content. As an editor, she meticulously ensures flawless grammar and punctuation, precise data accuracy, and perfect alignment with audience needs in every research report. Alice's dedication to excellence and her strategic approach to content make her an invaluable asset in the world of market insights.

(LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/alice-mutum-3b247b137 )

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Know thy enemy

“Enemy fleet exiting jump now.” The tactical officer called out.

Admiral Haru nodded at the confirmation and switched the holographic projection to a live feed.

Bright pinpricks of light flickered in and out showcasing the enemy ships exiting their jump points. On the side of the screen the tracking software updated itself with each new ship, tracking and marking their current locations. The current count was at one hundred ships and increasing steadily.

“I recommend a withdrawal.”

Haru turned from the display to see his alien counterpart fleet master Wrang standing next to him. The translator unit was doing its best to interpret his species speech patterns, but it couldn’t fully remove the high pitched screeching.

“I assure you that we are in no danger of losing this engagement.” Haru replied even as the number of enemy ships continued rising.

“They outnumber us three to one.” Wrang pointed out. “We can not form a battle line against such numbers.”

It was true that the tracking software was not up to three hundred ships but thankfully the lights from jump exits were dwindling more and more. Haru wagered the majority of the enemy had arrived and any stragglers would be petering out soon.

As if to confirm his sentiments the enemy fleet began dispersing itself, morphing from a rough sphere of ships to a well-organized battle line. The heavier battleships and cruisers taking up position behind a screen of frigate and destroyer class vessels. Their sleek polished hulls reflecting a mixture of greens and oranges, with the crest of the Vulzon Theocracy proudly painted on the front of each ship.

“Numbers are not always the key to victory.” Haru remarked as the communication officer called out to the admiral.

“We have an incoming communication from the Vulzon flagship.”

“Begin a trace on the link and pass along their location to the gun batteries for targeting.” Haru said as he sat down on his command throne. He straightened his uniform and smoothed over several creases before nodding to the waiting communication officer.

The holographic projection flickered for a moment before switching from a view of the enemy fleet to a view of the Vulzon command bridge. There, standing in front of his command throne with one hand resting on his viper blade and the other behind his back, stood Haru’s adversary.

Tatiman; war chief of the eternal rage.

“We meet again,” Tatiman spoke through sharpened teeth,” little human.”

Haru said nothing and so the war chief continued.

“I must admit, I am surprised you stayed to fight.” Tatiman chuckled. “I had expected your kind to run and h-“

Haru motioned a hand across his throat and the communication officer cut the communication.

“Why did you do that?” Wrang asked; both deeply confused and troubled by the human’s actions.

It was true his government had relinquished control of their fleet to human control for the duration of the crisis, but he was also instructed to rescind that order and regain control of their forces. Humans were still unknown in the galaxy, making them an unknown and potential risk. A risk Haru seemed to be confirming right now.

“He’ll call back.” Haru remarked as he rested his hand on his chin and smiled.

No sooner had the words left his mouth did the communication officer speak up again.

“From their command ship again, Admiral.”

Haru listened to the chiming noise to indicate an incoming transmission but sat passively in his throne. A minute passed and the communications officer was about to ask again when Haru waved him to open the link.

Once again Tatiman was on screen aboard his command bridge, though looking substantially angrier than before.

“I am trying to be diplomatic,” Tatiman said through clenched teeth, “and you dare insult my-“

Again Haru swiped his hand across his throat and the communication was terminated.

“Do you have a death wish?” Wrang asked as he began to sweat.

“Hardly,” Haru grinned, “there’s a new episode of battle base five airing in two days and I will be damned if I will be killed before finding out which cyborg gave birth to Maria.”

At a loss for words at the entirety of the admiral’s statement Wrang just stood there with his mouth hanging open as yet another communication chime came in.

This time Haru answered it immediately rather than waiting and the link was established again.

Tatiman was now far beyond anger. Behind him one of the arms of his command throne was sparking erratically and Wrang imagined that the war chief had struck it after the second transmission was terminated.

“I will rip the eyes from your sockets, and make you watch as I strangle the life from your frail body!” Tatiman shouted. The loud shout startled several of the human crew but Wrang saw nothing of the same on the admiral’s face who yawned loudly.

“Listen, taint,” Haru began as he lazily slouched in his throne, “as much as I love your boastings I am with a friendly delegate and my time is short; so would you be a dear and surrender already?”

Wrang couldn’t describe the colors Tatiman went through as he stuttered words of rage. His eyes were wide and focused with a killers gaze while Haru yawned again and made the swipe motion to terminate the transmission.

“I hope you have a plan,” Wrang began as the entire Vulzon fleet appeared to power their engines and begin rushing towards them, “as you may have just killed us all.”

“Fleet wide transmission, now.” Haru ordered crisply and the communication officer complied without question.

“This is Admiral Haru to all ships, activate targeting scramblers and launch full spread of chaff.”

Wrang watched as the holographic screen flickered for a moment as the scramblers activated while a barrage of chaff missiles were launched. The first Vulzon energy lances began hammering the ships shields as the chaff missiles exploded. The space between the two fleets suddenly was filled with a thick cloud of white particles as if a bell had just been dropped in a dusty foundry.

“That tactic will only delay them.” Wrang remarked as the energy lances suddenly lost accuracy. Energy lances passed their ships harmlessly as the chaff interfered with the Vulzon targeting locks. “Even with scramblers and chaff it won’t be enough; they will be switching to visual targeting now.”

“I’m counting on it.” Was all Haru replied as the energy lances began finding their marks again. “By now every gunner and commander in their fleet is looking out a window or view screen to watch us.”

A shudder through the ship made Wrang wobble on his feet for a heartbeat before he regained his footing. Warning icons were flashing now across the view screen as energy spikes from the shields were beginning to ravage the human flagship.

“Why are we not returning fire!?” Wrang demanded as another shudder sent him to his knees.

“I’m waiting.” Haru remarked as he watched the view screen. The enemy icons had cross half the distance between the fleets and had now entered within the chaff cloud.

“For what!?”

“For this moment.” Haru said with a smile.

“All ships, all ships; fire Cheshire rounds now.”

Before Wrang could ask what a Cheshire round was the view screen lit up as every cannon amongst their fleet fired at the same time.

Wrang watched the Vulzon ships to see how many would explode, but was surprised when a second cloud of bright purple appeared.

“This was your secret weapon?” Wrang shouted. “You launch colored dust while they slaughter us?!”

Haru held up a finger to silence Wrang and said nothing else. So infuriated was the fleet master he was on the verge of ordering his people’s ships to retreat when he noticed something.

The ship had stopped shuddering.

Turning back to the view screen Wrang was astonished to see that every ship in the Vulzon fleet had ceased firing. They were still hurtling towards them but otherwise their guns had fallen silent.

“Admiral to fleet, disperse formation to avoid incoming vessels and prepare full barrage as they pass by.” Haru sounded off.

The fleet began to spread apart just in time as the first Vulzon ships began flying through their line. Some Vulzon ships passing close enough an engineer could reach out and scrape the Vulzon paintwork with a wrench but thankfully no collisions were reported.

“Fleet maneuver completed and all ships confirm they are ready to fire.” The tactical officer sounded off.

“Open fire.” Haru spoke as he watched the Vulzon flagship pass by before being hammered by a full broadside of energy batteries.

The shields flickered then collapsed in an instant under such a close bombardment. Wrang watched as the delicate paint work was burnt away as hull punctures riddled the entire ship from stem to stern.

All along the entire line human vessels were firing at near point blank range causing horrific damage to the Vulzon fleet which was still passing by without retaliating.

“What did you do?” Wrang asked softly. He had never seen a Vulzon fleet be destroyed so utterly and in such a manner that it defied all reason.

Haru rested his chin on his hand again and watched as the Vulzon flagship detonated under the latest salvo.

“Did you know that the Vulzon have very unique eyes?” he asked the fleet master. When Wrang shook his head he continued.

“They can see spectrums of light and energy well beyond what our human eyes can see, but that also makes them incredibly sensitive to certain things; things that can trigger violent and sometimes fatal physical bodily reactions.”

Haru looked at Wrang, but when he saw the fleet master still struggling to put the pieces together he decided to spell out his plan entirely.

“The color purple,” Haru stated as he pointed to the dissipating cloud of the color, “has been known to trigger a form of cardiac arrest if observed during moments of intense stress for Vulzon’s.”

“So,” Wrang began as he puzzled together Haru’s plan, “when you fired those Cheshire rounds you gave them…”

“-a form of mass seizure.” Haru finished.

He stood up from his command throne and walked over to the tactical display. “Vulzon are a dedicated military race with a strong sense of loyalty to their commander.” Haru began. “But this means that they also emulate their commander in all things. Dress code, discipline, mental state, etc.”

“So when you made Tatiman angry, they all emulated him and became angry as well.” Wrang put together.

“Exactly.” Haru nodded. “So when they saw the purple color they were all in a state of pure rage and anger, making the cardiac arrest they would normally experience that much more effective.”

“But they would know of their weakness.” Wrang countered. “Their sensors and displays would be programmed to remove the color from their screens to prevent that.”

“Unless they were scrambled and the Vulzon were forced to rely on visual confirmation.”

Suddenly the scramblers and chaff made sense. The human admiral had not deployed them to hamper the Vulzon weapon locks, but to force them into a situation that would expose them to their weakness without them even knowing.

“The benefit of making an enemy mad is that they tend to fail at thinking beyond the current moment.” Haru finished as he flicked a speck of dust off his uniform. “They don’t see the knife until it’s embedded in their chest.”

He pointed to the last of the Vulzon ships to pass between their fleet still steaming ahead with no regard for their own safety. A few had suddenly began to maneuver in different directions and Haru pointed them out specifically.

“Inform the fleet to focus on any ship not moving in a straight line first before others, regardless of class.”

The communication officer nodded and relayed the message. When he turned and saw Wrang looking confused.

“I imagine that by now someone must have gotten to the bridge to find their captain is dead along with most of their command staff and tried to steer the ship to safety.”

“I applaud you for your thoroughness.” Wrang bowed. “You are much wiser in the ways of war than I had expected.”

Haru smiled and returned the bow. “There’s an old terran saying that has defined my career.”

“To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy.

[gloomyshoujo]

ACCOMPANYING DOODLE COMIC CAN BE FOUND HERE!!

Day 9 for huevember~

Decided to draw Jetko again, this time for a very specific AU I've been tweaking over like a feral animal lol. (heavy and I mean heavy rambling under the cut!)

Urk yea, so I worked my butt off of this one! I really pushed myself with the anatomy, since I wanted it to have a bit of sex appeal ngl lol (also, ya know, wanting to get better at drawing blah blah). I don't think I've ever looked at so many refs at once tho holy shit...

I also tried my best to make it look cool and graphical~ It was fun and fucking brutal I think I went through 30+ different variants, no joke LOL. Shoutout to my bestie for all the help and listening to me ramble like a madman. Title from this song: Renegade Master by Wildchild

OKAY SO PLEASE LET ME BE A LOSER

So not sure how to describe this AU, other than it being sort of a silly master thief mixed with action, romance/smut, drama, angst, revenge and conspiracy. I was definitely inspired by a few anime's, but Lupin iii & Cowboy Bebop were the biggest inspos for sure lol.

Not sure of the timeline, but maybe in the 90s? They're also aged up, Jet is about 31yo, and Zuko 23 maybe? YES there's a bit of an age gap as a treat for me. <333

Both of them served in the military, but at different times and units, so they never met before.

Jet joined the army at 18 to basically avoid homelessness, since he was orphaned and didn't have many options. He did, however, want to set up a fund for 'Bee and Longshot while he worked there. I'm still unsure about why he'd leave, but was thinking he got injured (like in S2), and was discharged (I'm also thinkin' toxic situation-ship with Lu Ten? *looming music* the drama!!). Or maybe he was about to uncover something big by mistake, so they accused him of stuff he didn't do, which had him terminated from the military. Or a combo of the 2??

But whoops, also turns out his fund he was putting aside was stolen/was being lied too, and he, 'Bee and Longshot had nothing left to their names. And because governments suck, he wasn't getting his benefits or barely got enough (or if he was terminated, then he'd get nothing).

This obviously left him feeling pissed and helpless. He tried getting normal work, but he didn't have much luck; which eventually led him to robbing a bank out of desperation (+an old military friend reached out to ask for help with the robbery), using his skills he's learned over his life (maybe at the time, he pretended to date Katara as she worked there to get intel? More drama~ Tho he did regret that part;;;). After that first theft, he not only got money for him and the others, but got a huge thrill from it. Since then, he strived to become the worlds greatest thief! He goes after money, jewels, fine art; whatever gives him a challenge (and a good paycut hehe)~

Zuko, like Jet, joined the military as soon as he turned 18; but it was done to get away from his fathers abuse and influence. He thought Ozai had no connections to the military, and he'd be safe to have his own career/life there for a while. (Also thinking Iroh is not in the picture. Either dead or disappeared)

Unfortunately, his father was far more powerful and corrupt than he thought he was. Not entirely sure why again, but thinking this time around, Zuko did uncover something big going on (but only a small glimpse of it). His father then ordered an assassination against Zuko and his unit, to make it look like an accident/war mission gone wrong (also, think 41st division here; except Zuko was in said division).

In an instant, he lost his comrades, all of them killed off because of Ozai. Unfortunately for Ozai, Zuko did survive, but no one knew of that, and thought he was dead/completely burnt away from the blast (also maybe that's how he gets the scar on his face OR chest?? idk yet).

Zuko did manage to run away and hide somewhere, finding random help and took almost a year to recover. During that time, he had a lot of time to think about it, and decided he'd get revenge against his father.

But it wouldn't be an easy feat. Reporting Ozai never did anything for him (the few times he tried when he was younger). He thought simply killing him would suffice, but he wanted Ozai to slowly lose everything. His influence, connections, money, power, etc. He wanted him to suffer, and lose the things he clearly cared more than anything in the world, even his own family.

So after the incident, he took time to train, get more intel, took mercenary jobs so he could build up his own network/gain experience, etc etc. until he eventually felt ready to begin his slow act of revenge; which would entail him starting from the bottom up, taking apart Ozai's regime if you will, by stealing/destroying/killing his connections/assets/companies/etc etc. if that makes sense?

ANYWAYS. Queue in Jetko!

The first time Jet meets Zuko, it's in the middle of a theft; it was night time, Zuko illuminated by the full moon, sirens going off in the background, as Zuko is holding the very thing he was going to steal. Zuko slowly turns to look at him, with nothing but contempt in his eyes. And Jet? INSTANTLY fell in love.

AHAHA in this AU, Jet is absolutely whippeddddd for Zuko. He thinks he's the most handsome, beautiful, badass person he's ever laid eyes on. Jet is convinced Zuko stole his heart, but he doesn't mind.;-) (yes he's a SAP)

Zuko doesn't care for Jet (or anyone for that matter). He's been pretty much alone for years now, only concentrating on his revenge. But Jet seems to pop up here and there, always in the middle of a robbery or whatever else. He comes to learn Jet is the self-proclaimed "worlds greatest thief", which he doesn't care for.

And yet, Jet always seems eager to speak to him, even helping or saving him sometimes. He doesn't get it, and he wonders if the guy was hired by his father. Yet, Jet manages to wiggle his way in Zuko's heart; which scares him, because he doesn't want to forget his anger and hatred.

But he can't help but be pulled in Jet's antics and chaotic heists, from time to time.

I don't think Jet would care if Zuko was the son of Ozai, in this AU. I'd imagine he'd be more angry about what Ozai has done to Zuko (and others) than Zuko's blood. Also, while Jet is definitely whipped, he does grow real feelings for Zuko the more they interact. He enjoys discovering small aspects about him, or the rare times he smirks or chuckles. But he can see there's a lot of hurt in Zuko, and is worried about him; he really wants him to have fun and be happy (hence why he ropes Zuko into his antics/thefts at times, just to see Zuko loosen up a bit).

As for the plot, AHAHA idk yet. Definitely some conspiracies going on, maybe some classic world domination? Idk. But everything is connected in some ways; even the random fine art pieces Jet would steal, would eventually connect to something bigger. Lots of action too and near death scenes aha. Also, Jets and Zukos pasts and presents would come to intertwine at some point. I'm thinking Lu Ten is one nasty villain too, which would add for some delicious drama~

Unto the nsfw aspect LOL (please respect the honour system and only read if you're 18+ pwease T^T)

So in ALL my headcanons/AU's, Jet/Zuko are switches. But I have SUCH a thing for younger men topping older men AHA (also....Jet is hairy too YIPPEE!). So the first time they even kiss, it's Zuko that pulls the shots. I'd imagine Jet would be flirting with Zuko again, and Zuko feeling both fed up but also interested, would grab him by the collar and give Jet a deep kiss; shocking Jet into silence. He'd just smirk, knowing he won, while Jet's brain short circuits lol. OR their first kiss is Zuko slipping Jet some important info through a chip/pill, which does surprise Jet, but he's eager to play the make-out part.;-)

Not even sure how they'd finally give in and fuck lmfao. But Zuko would, again, call the shots the first time; which does things to Jets brain because he's never been topped by a younger guy (he's veryyy into it tho). At some point, Zuko would allow Jet to top him during an emotional moment, I would imagine aha.

Oh also, for this scene in particular.....idk. I have a real fetish for cool looking dudes in cool outfits and looking all badass and homoerotic LMFAOOOOO. I do think it displays their dynamic in this AU pretty good. Jet being smitten/whipped and flirting/teasing, knowing full well he's got Zuko's attention; while Zuko seems in control/indifferent and closed off, but he can't help but be pulled in by Jet. (also I just wanted to draw something ~cool~)

As for the text, I was listening to music and it popped up LOL. Idk, I sometimes let whatever I'm listening too atm dictate stuff for me, especially titles because I suck with those. As for the font choice, I wanted a serif font to make it look a bit more old school, and hopefully jazzy. But I also wanted it edgy, something you could either see on a jazz album or 90s rave/techno/house album.xD (Since I was inspired by both genera's lol) It WAS really hard choosing the right font. Several looked great, one in particular I almost went with, but it felt too modern imo. I also knew I wanted it to be red, but it often took attention away from Jet/Zuko. So I tried my best to use the font to my advantage, and have the viewers eyes automatically go towards their faces by making it more saturated in that spot, like a light source? I also did trace out the font like a loser so it would have a hand-drawn texture.:-V

Also I kinda drew Jet more beefy than I usually imagine him by accident? But I didn't wanna change it bc.....his tits came out real good lol. I def need to draw more for this AU. And I hope Zuko's ass also came out good because god did I struggle.

OKAY SORRY FOR BEING A LOSER IN PUBLIC I'LL SHUT UP NOW LMFAOOOO.

[suchine-toki]

(One more) Top 10 Gintaka moments

Arranged chronologically because it was too difficult to choose. Spoilers ahead.

1. First victory

After going day after day to the Shouka Sonjuku for an undetermined amount of time, Takasugi achieves his first victory against Gintoki. Understanding that he was weak, he defined him and Shouyou as his goal to reach. Thus, chasing Gintoki's back became an objective that he maintained throughout his life. But at this moment, Gintoki was really upset because Takasugi popped his cherry… his defeat cherry, that is (ch. 517).

2. The courtesan incident

After a fight between Gintoki and Takasugi, Sakamoto appears to say that the better friends they are, the more they fight. He also reveals that the reason for their latest conflict was that they both chose the same girl when they went to the red-light district, and she preferred Takasugi. This provoked an attack from Gintoki, but then Tatsuma added that the girl said he only drank and turned out to be very boring, which also provoked an attack from Takasugi, who was in the vicinity despite their previous fight (ch. 453).

3. We like petty wars

Back in the Joui War, when Sakamoto is injured, Takasugi is the first to speak to him, albeit harshly. Nevertheless, Takasugi seems relieved that Sakamoto survived and won’t keep risking his life. However, Gintoki intervenes, challenging the notion of quitting and affirming that Sakamoto can continue fighting, but in his own way. In an instant, both Gintoki and Takasugi agree to hunt down Sakamoto's attacker, declaring that they enjoy petty wars, i.e. not for grand ideals but to protect their loved ones. Naturally, this agreement turns into another competition to see who finds the guy first (ch. 568).

4. Give my regards

In spite of being estranged, they both say the phrase "give my regards to sensei for me" as a tribute to their master and a reminder of the legacy he left in their lives to those responsible for his death, showing them that Shouyou still lives. This also demonstrates how they are still united by the same emotional root while reflecting the duality of the paths they chose (chs. 397/398).

5. Pride

Being in Rakuyo and facing an imminent threat, Bansai believes that Gintoki is going to fight for the pride of the samurai, to which he responds that he is not interested in that, but his source of pride lies in both winning and losing against Takasugi many times, and that is the pride he is not willing to lose. In this way, Gintoki acknowledges that he still holds onto the respect and camaraderie they once shared (ch. 569).

6. Friggin' awful

When the Joui 4 were fighting, Gintoki is isolated from the rest and is ambushed by a huge machine that threatens him with a cannon. Before he can react, Takasugi comes to his aid, sabotaging the weapon in front of Gintoki's perplexed gaze. Then, both attack the mecha together as they tease each other, Takasugi asking how it feels to be saved by him who has just woken up from a coma, while Gintoki flips the question around, asking how it feels to have to be protected by him in the first place. To this, both respond that it's the worst, as an explosion occurs behind them. But they play it cool, because cool guys don't look at explosions (chs. 574-575).

7. Shouldn't interfere

Matako and Takechi have been tracking Takasugi and, after two years, finally found him. However, Matako hesitates about whether they should continue following him after seeing him fighting alongside Gintoki, feeling unsure of what to do, also recognizing that it was the first time she saw him acting silly and carefree. Similarly, the ship's captain comments that they both looked like ordinary no-good brats, which not only shows the camaraderie between them but also that they are happy being together (ch. 683).

8. Holding hands

While infiltrating the Terminal, Gintoki and Takasugi held hands twice. The first time was when the stairs they were climbing with Zura were destroyed, so Gintoki extended his hand, and Takasugi managed to grab it. The second time was when they were attacked while climbing the steel cables of an elevator. Here, Gintoki grabs Takasugi's hand to prevent him from falling and throws him towards a door. There was almost a third occasion where Takasugi was going to help Gintoki, but to no one's surprise, he was stabbed before he could do so (ch. 699).

9. Use me

Takasugi urges Gintoki to use his body as a shield, to which Gintoki seemingly agrees. They fight together, protecting each other and deceiving their enemies with strategies they can devise in an instant without speaking, demonstrating how well they know each other. Takasugi uses himself as bait to help Gintoki attack the terminal, but when he decides to sacrifice himself, Gintoki comes running to push him out of danger, a decision for which the enemy mocks him, saying he wasted his chance just because he couldn't bear to lose Takasugi (ch. 700).

10. Mutual support

Takasugi smiles while watching Gintoki reunite with the Yorozuya, something he urged him to do on multiple occasions since they reunited because if there is one thing he wants, it is for Gintoki to be happy. With the little strength he has left, he takes Gintoki's bokuto again and uses it to support himself, symbolizing how Gintoki helps him move forward. Similarly, in his final fight against Utsuro, Gintoki declares that Takasugi is in his soul while seeing his spirit protecting him. Thus, Gintoki holds his sword and defeats the enemy with Takasugi's aid. This is the second time they exchange swords in the series but, unlike the first, here it is more explicit that the other's soul is what helps them do what they have to do (chs. 701/703).

Part (1) (2) (3) (4) (Bonus)

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #15: Lux Solaris

Prompt: deodate (free write) || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: Spoilers for Dawntrail.

---

It was in the heart of the Meso Terminal, before the throne of the Queen Eternal, that Synnove discovered just what the fuck had been going on with her Dreadwyrm Protocol.

The Protocol was the most strictly-maintained of all her spells, the one most rigidly bound off from every array in her grimoire with pages of page-blocks to ensure its core programming didn’t leak into any of the carbuncles. It was also the spell that had seen the fewest modifications—in fact, beyond locking out Galette and then ensuring the smooth linking between it and her Phoenix Protocol, it was otherwise unaltered from what Prin had given her years ago. It was a perfectly functional spell, did exactly what it needed to rain down untold destruction, and if Synnove never had to manipulate the Dreadwyrm’s aether again in her life, it would be too soon.

(Too, there was the fact Synnove was still mad as hell that Prin hadn’t exactly divulged just what the spell it had gifted her had been. The coding had been so alien to her eyes that she hadn’t recognized it not being a mere variation on Allagan egis, and, well, she always did her initial testing with Galette—

IDENTIFY THE ENEMY YOU WISH TO ANNIHILATE.

—suffice to say it was a good thing she’d gone out to test the damned thing on Seal Rock when the island wasn’t being used for wargames. Bad enough both she and Galette had spent the next sennight coming down from the resulting panic attack.)

But that meant she was keenly aware of when the Protocol began to behave oddly. It was how she had first noticed Phoenix’s aether beginning to strengthen, back on the First, which in turn had led to her and Urianger and Alphinaud and Alisaie losing their collective minds as they build out a demi-primal array from scratch.

The past few moons hadn’t seen quite as a drastic change in the Protocol as had been on the First. No, it had been far more subtle; strange bits of…not stagnation, but frequent shifts toward umbral polarity, even a faint hint of Light at some points. Less rage had filtered through the Protocol, that millennia of hatred barely tempered by its filtering through a mere demi-primal that always accompanied an activation of the Dreadwyrm Protocol, instead more of a cool, calculating regard.

And now, here in this space made of levin and electrope, Synnove had activated the Protocol, and what had answered was not the lesser form of the Dreadwyrm.

This demi-primal was white as Light, and its draconic shape was more closely aligned with what a son of the First Brood would have looked like, and not the warped abomination he become under Ascian influence. Its head lacked eyes, however, and strange crenellations crested its head and neck. A crown of Light wheeled above that crest, and its wings—

—its wings were gods-be-damned fucking SWORDS.

It was only a heartbeat between the activation of the Protocol and Ivar becoming the control core of the demi-primal. Synnove could feel her youngest son’s bafflement in the back of her mind, and knowing he was all right was about the only way she didn’t panic in the middle of a battle.

And then, in a cool, crisp voice, echoing with multiple tones through her mind like clarion bells:

LIGHTWYRM SUBROUTINE NOW ONLINE. SUMMONER PRIME LOCATED. DESIGNATION: SYNNOVE GREYWOLFE. REFULGENT LUX GRANTED TO SUMMONER PRIME. SUNFLARE GRANTED TO SUMMONER PRIME.

“What,” Synnove said intelligently, “the fuck.”

The demi-primal stretched its right wing, and one the Queen Eternal’s attendant drones slammed into and broke into pieces. Synnove, jolted back to awareness, dodged through the chaos to return to the safety of Heron’s back and rejoin the battle properly.

“Synnove, what the fuck?!” Rere somehow made the question a part of the ballad she was weaving to bolster their attacks.

“I don’t know!”

ANNHILATION TARGET DETECTED. QUERY: SUMMONER PRIME, DOES THIS UNIT HAVE PERMISSION TO ENGAGE?

“Yes,” Synnove said, already casting a Ruin III spell. “With extreme prejudice!”

The strange not-quite-a-dragon seemed to regard the Queen Eternal. And then it opened its mouth, and R O A R E D.

PROTOCOL: EXODUS ACTIVATED.

Light filled the Interphos, the same brilliant radiance that had answered Hydaelyn’s call during Her test, deep in the aetherial sea. And then it exploded, and the Queen Eternal howled her rage.

“SYNNOVE WHAT THE FUCK.”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

--

“So, I think I know what the fuck.”

Nearly a moon after successfully saving the world—again—the mages of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn (sans Urianger, who was still off somewhere with Thancred, and he was going to be outraged he’d missed this) clustered around the table in one of the conference rooms of the Baldesion Annex. Synnove sat cross-legged on the table itself, fist propping up her cheek, Galette around her neck, and Ipomoea primly loafed in her lap. The Highlander knew she looked as she always did after a research binge: hair a disaster, clothes wrinkled from being slept in, circles beneath her eyes.

The only thing missing was chalk dust, and that was only because she’d been up to her eyeballs in unspooled carbuncles for the past damned moon.

Krile reached forward and tapped at an Allagan projection device built into the table. It lit up immediately, copies of a subset of arcanima array now floating in the air for easy view.

“Let the record show we’ve got a segment of the Dreadwyrm Protocol on display,” Synnove said tonelessly.

G’raha, acting as the meeting scribe, chuckled quietly, but did as requested.

“This bit is the manifestation coding, it’s basically the mathematical image of the Dreadwyrm that the Allagans put together. What’s on display now is what Prin gave me. And this—”

Ipomoea blinked her eyes with an audible shuttering sound. The array changed.

“—is what it looks like as the Lightwyrm Protocol.”

“Well, that’s a significant change,” Alphinaud said slowly, his eyes wide. “I can see the similarities that we can assume are for ‘dragon,’ but what commands for unaspected aether are now for Light.”

“I want the bits that make the sword wings,” Alisaie said. “That is inspired work.”

Alphinaud barely restrained a sigh, glancing heavenward instead for strength as everyone else chuckled.

“I can see where the commands are branching off to affect spells like Astral Flow,” Y’shtola murmured thoughtfully. “Still following the framework you created for demi-primals. But you can still access the Dreadwyrm Protocol?”

“Mmm,” Synnove said. “But have to do this one first. Then in sequence, it’s Dreadwyrm, back to Lightwyrm, then Phoenix, then the cycle repeats. I can’t say I’m not too mad about that, s’nice not to have my trauma shoved in my face whenever we need some extra firepower.”

“Probably has to do with balancing the Light aether, though I can’t figure out how just yet,” Krile said.

Synnove inclined her head. “That’s my theory at the moment, but I’ll need to do more testing. Regardless, that brings me to this.”

Ipomoea blinked again. A different array now floated above the table, causing everyone to frown.

“Is that a message array?” Alisaie said. “Like the Arcanists’ Guild uses for courier work on their carbuncles.”

“It is very similar,” Synnove said, and gently tapped Ipomoea’s head. The sapphire carbuncle twitched her left ear a perfect fifteen degrees, and the array display zoomed in. “You all see this bit of sigilwork and equation here?”

Murmurs of ascent.

“The one time I saw this,” Synnove said, enunciating clearly, “was in Elpis. When Venat sat down with me and the girls, and showed us the full spell frame for her traveler’s ward.”

Five pairs of eyes just stared at her. Synnove raised her eyebrows, waiting. She’d had her moment of garbled cursing three days ago when she’d found that damn signature.

“Are you telling us,” Y’shtola said slowly, “that this new Protocol was made by Hydaelyn Herself?”

“My dearest, darling friend and partner in magical crime,” Synnove drawled, “that is exactly what I’m telling you.”

Krile was covering her face with her hands. “Oh, great good gods, we’re going need to put this under the strictest lock they have in Noumenon,” she groaned.

G’raha was still frantically writing. “I’m not wholly sure I’d trust it to stay safe even there,” he said. “My vote would be to store it up at Bestway Burrows, or perhaps with the Watcher.” He glanced up at Synnove. “This is more for my own amusement than any record keeping, but what did Rereha say about this particular revelation?”

“She said, quote: ‘Oh, cool, Mom decided as a last hurrah that she could get in a last round of one upmanship on the Ascians and design a better dragon.’”

Alisaie and Krile were both giggling before Synnove had even finished talking. Alphinaud didn’t try to stifle his sight this time, while Y’shtola and G’raha exchanged rueful looks.

Synnove merely shrugged, ignoring Galette’s resulting grumble. “She’s probably not wrong.”

“Oh, the loporrits are going to adore that,” Krile said around her giggles. “Sword wings.”

“Sword wings,” Synnove said. And grinned.

[saintcirce]

Please do a whole post about phd applications, funding applications, fellowships, TAships etc. Would love your take on it. Thanks

I'm chronically horrible at responding to asks, so this is coming later than you probably expected!

For context, I'm now a second year PhD art history student about to take her doctoral (comprehensive) exams in April. I applied for PhD programs during the last semester of my master's program, which was a terminal degree through a different university than the one I currently attend.

I applied to two PhD programs in the United States and two in the United Kingdom: the processes are different, particularly when it comes to funding. The former will automatically consider you for funding and it's expected, at least in the humanities, that they will grant you tuition remission and a stipend for at least four years (potentially more, depending on your particular program). It's also possible to win additional fellowships, either through your university or a third party. For example, I have departmental funding (ie. a stipend that I receive for being a Graduate Assistant) and an outside fellowship from my university's Graduate School. My department applied for that fellowship on my behalf before I even enrolled. The other American university to which I applied also offered me tuition remission and a stipend, but it was less than the university I currently attend.

Two general notes about funding in the United States: (1) it often changes to account for rising cost of living but that does not necessarily mean you will be making a living wage, and (2) it often changes depending on whether your school has a Union. Graduate workers at my university are currently working to unionize, which would not only guarantee a living wage for union members but also offer protections for international students and student parents. There are a lot of benefits but the TLDR for funding is that unionizing often means the difference between $28,000 and $45,000 yearly stipend (see this article from the Boston Herald about BU's graduate student union). Graduate Assistants are often not allowed to hold a second job outside of the university and it's also difficult to do so when you are (a) working, (b) completing coursework, and (c) independently researching. My museum fellowship, which I'm due to begin in a couple days, jeopardized my funding status and I had to fight my university for them not to take away my fellowship. It ultimately worked out because I had my department chair's support but not all students are similarly supported—and not all departments are willing to advocate for their students.

Pivoting to UK schools: the TLDR is that they offer very little funding for international students and the funding that is available, either through the institutions themselves or outside organizations, is often not enough to cover the cost of living. Tuition is largely cheaper than in America but the difference was not significant enough for it to factor into my decision. If you're interested in more detail, I'd recommend reaching out to @therepublicofletters who actually attends a UK institution. She can also tell you more about how their programs are structured. Unlike American PhD programs—which involve at least two years of coursework, doctoral exams, and graduate assistantships before defending your prospectus and beginning dissertation research—UK programs ask you to apply with a prospectus that you will use as the basis for dissertation research that you begin immediately upon entry. The difference is that American programs typically take 5-7 years to complete whereas UK ones are only 3-4 years. While this may seem convenient in the short term, I was advised that American institutions (museums, universities, etc) often prefer PhDs from American institutions because of the extra work completed.

Setting aside this technical information, I chose the four programs to which I applied based on vibes. I had a master list of schools and advisors and I contacted each one to see if we fit in terms of academic interests and personalities. I did not want to work with an advisor I didn't like and who didn't like me—or who had so many students that they had no time for me. Aside from speaking with them personally, I also reached out to their current advisees: students will often give you a more honest perspective on faculty and the department as a whole. I would almost lend more weight to what the students say than any of the professors because they are and/or will be your peers. They are also the people who will give you the most honest information about how professors and the department view students of color, women, queer students, etc. Art history and the humanities are fairly white, straight, and male dominated, so it's important to get a read on how non-normative (for lack of a better collective term) individuals are treated. I used this information to narrow down my master list to four schools, each of which I would be happy to attend. Whether I was admitted to one or to all four, I would have a place to go where I would be content and able to find community.

This is a personal note but something to consider when it comes to advisors is gender. That should not be a determining factor but I realized after committing to my current school that this is the first time I've worked with a male advisor. I love him dearly and he is one of the most encouraging scholars I have met but there have been occasions where there is a disconnect based on life experience. That said, I know many people who have had no issues at all!

Throughout this whole process, the name value of the schools was functionally irrelevant. In my experience—and that of the numerous individuals who advised me during the application process—your advisor is far more important than your school. While this will necessarily vary by discipline, you want to work with someone who has connections and/or knows how to network. For example, an older scholar will likely know everyone and their mother whereas a younger scholar will know fewer people but likely be more present at conferences, etc.

In the end, what matters most is your happiness and stability. Will you like working with your chosen advisor? Will you like taking classes in other disciplines within your department? Will you be able to make friends and/or have civil relationships with other graduate students (ie. will people steal books you need because they know you need them, like at Columbia)? Can you afford to live in whatever city in which you school is located? Are they paying you a living wage and/or offering you alternate opportunities to apply for funding?

I chose my school based on the graduate community, my advisors (I now have two), and the funding package. There have been incidental issues that I could not have anticipated, but on the whole, I do not regret my decision because I prioritized my happiness when I was applying and did not make decisions based on what I thought other people would want. This is a huge commitment and you need to be self-motivated, to rely on your love of the subject, to make it through the hard times.

My last bit of advice, which I received from my undergraduate advisor: don't go into debt for art history! If a program isn't paying you and/or isn't paying you enough, then they're not worth your time. Know your worth and ask for what you deserve, never be afraid to negotiate funding.

Let me know if y'all have any other questions! This was a long one but I hope it was helpful.

[for-the-sake-of-color]

Happy Day 1 of @clonexocweek ! For today we have the first meeting of Kix/Nihlus Brek

Have an Excerpt from my as of yet unreleased chapter of Blinding Devotion - The Kix/Nihlus mega-fic!

Warnings for- Lightly Medical Grossness

--------

The droids, and they were droids for sure, though he couldn’t identify the model, were waiting for them on the landing pad when their group exited the Twilight. Six legs and a strut to match, one of them walked up to their group. Roughly two feet shorter than Anakin, it tilted it’s processors up at him

“It’s about damn time you came,” The droid said, “You’re real Jedi then? You have the codes?”

Anakin and Ahsoka side-gazed at each other.

“Yea, we have the codes, but can you tell us what’s going on?”

“What, weren't you told?”

“What is this place, and why are we here?”

“This is the Galactic Study Archival Facility, created and overlooked by the Guardian, Nihlus Brek. Our purpose is to record-” It paused and made that strange sound before continuing. ”-everything. You are going to free him, as per the terms of Guardian Kishta Aheridan. As only a Jedi may do.”

“Why can only a Jedi let this guy out?” Ahsoka asked,

The droid made that chittering sound again, and then at a lower pitch.

“We think… it was so he could never be let go. You are here, now, but it has been over four thousand years. Guardian Aheridan set them to be impossible terms, unfillable conditions. Which they seem to have been, until now.”

“How long?” Anakin asked as Ahsoka said, “That’s got to be a glitch, right?”

“We could tell you the time to the second,” The droid turned to Ahsoka and said, “we can, later if you would like. We have watched every minute of everyday since. But, yes, roughly four thousand years has passed since the delicate document safe was sealed and the Guardian was locked in. New safety measures were placed on its opening, procedures neither we the keepers, nor the sentinels units have access to, unless certain conditions have been met. We also cannot access what the conditions are set to, and thus we cannot fulfill them ourselves”

“Do you know what called us here?” Anakin asked, “The source of the force visions?”

“The girl.” The keeper said, “It is always the girl that brings people here. It is our hope she has properly prepared you for the unlocking conditions. You will be executed otherwise. Our apologies for that, but if you cannot fulfill the necessary procedures, you will not be allowed to leave, as per the Guardians orders.”

Anakin sighed. Of course it would be like that.

“Who is this guardian, Nihlus Brek?” Ahsoka asked the droid.

“That information is restricted.”

She crossed her arms, “So you want us to let him out but you won’t tell us who he is?” 

“Correct.”

“Okay, then who is the girl?” she huffed.

“That information is restricted.”

Ahsoka groaned in frustration.

“Very well,” Anakin said, like it or not, they’d come way too far not to see this through, “Let's get to it then.”

“Right this way,” The droid said as it turned, walking back towards the entrance it came out of. 

When he looked back at Rex, the Captain motioned to his weapons and splayed his hand in a question. Anakin just shrugged. He had no idea why the droids were making no moves to disarm them, despite the threat of execution. Maybe they would once they got inside? 

-

Nope.

In fact, the droid said nothing to them as it led them through the corridors. They seemed to pass vaulted room after room, lined with shelves full of data tapes and holo terminals, glowing their gentle blue. 

“What kind of information is stored here?” Anakin asked, remembering Master Nu’s vision of this place, with a corridor covered in sith holocrons. He couldn’t feel anything radiating the evil she had described, but this place was huge. 

“In this area of the library we hold the information on the cultures, ideas, research, and stories of the mid-millenia three post-archive lockdown of the galactic core sector.” The robot replied.

“What about information on the Jedi and Sith, where's that?”

“We have a large variety of materials pertaining to the subjects, including cultures, ideas, and stories spanning many millenia. Those are housed on a higher floor, you will most likely be allowed to visit later.”

“And the Jedi and Sith research? Holocrons maybe?”

“I’m sorry, but that area of study is restricted to personnel with express permission of the Guardians. If you would like access, you may submit an application for consideration by the guardians. Please be aware, the queue has not been updated in several thousands of years.”

“Yea, I’ll pass, Thanks” Anakin rolled his eyes. 

Skywalker began to feel his troops become more on edge the further into the archive they got, and when he took a brief glance behind him he got an eyeful of what had gotten their hackles up. Fairly bulky droids, of a different design than the one that was leading them, were silently following along behind them. In fact, now that he could recognize what they were, he began to see one in every aisle of every corridor they passed, whereas before they had simply blended into the scenery. He had a suspicion that this is what the droid had meant by sentinel units. There were… a lot of them. 

He tried not to let it phase him. So long as everything continued to go to plan, they shouldn’t have to start a fight. So far, so good.

And then they entered the chamber.

He had been expecting the long dark hallways, or deep cramped elevators. Anything at all to indicate the importance of the room that their objective lay in, anything like the visions had been. Instead, it was a door, like many other doors they had come across on their trip down. The droid had stopped, turned, and opened it with no warning.

It walked in, and they followed. At first the only light that could be seen was a dull glow coming from within the inner chamber, but then the overheads flickered to life, and Ahsoka gasped.

“This is it. It’s… him.”

Anakin stepped up to the glass, getting his actual first look at the guy they had been sent by the force to free. Heavily armored, he seemed human except for the glowing solid red-gold eyes fixed directly to where someone would stand to work the door controls. 

“Master,” Ahsoka whispered to him.

“What?” 

“Lightsabers” she pointed down to the man's belt.

Skywalker hadn’t seen them at first, book in the man's hand obscuring one, but those were for certain lightsabers. He should have figured.

“What's our luck he’s a Jedi?”

“With all the red and black? I’ll give it 30%” Anakin muttered back to her.

“Are we sure about this?” 

Skywalker looked over his shoulder, “It’s not like we have much of a choice.” Several of those keeper type droids had followed them in chittering all the while, but behind them the silent and bulky sentinel type droids had one by one begun lining the room in rows, blocking their only means of escape.

They either came, and did what they had been sent to do, or risk a bloodbath of their soldiers. This was not the most live-able situation for anyone should the codes he had been given fail.

Suddenly Anakin wished he had left their troops back on the ship, for their own safety.

-

Kix could feel the tension headache coming on as his jaw clenched more and more with every droid that filed into the room. Skywalker looked fairly calm as usual but the Commander hadn’t bothered to mask the worry that had taken over her face. The Captain's hands had not left his blasters since Echo had pointed out the first of the fighter bots that had begun to tail them.

Some sort of Temple run by droids was just what they had needed, definitely. 

He wished they had left him back on the ship. This place gave him the creeps, even without the potentially hostile death machines.

After some hushed conversation between the General and the Commander that Kix couldn’t make out, Skywalker stepped up to the control console to the center chamber. 

“Here goes nothing.” The General said as the terminal activated, and he began to tap a series of symbols and numbers. Some looked vaguely familiar, for what that was worth. With every tap the bots seemed to shift and inch forwards, and Kix grip on his blaster tightened.

He knew they wouldn’t be the ones to make the first shot, but the waiting was hell. Then the door hissed open, and the man inside dropped his book, stumbling, catching himself on the table. After a second he shook his head like he was trying to clear it and turned towards them.

He heard the Commander gasp. That was not a good sign. Nor was it a good sign when the man shouted something at them in a language he couldn’t recognize. There was maybe a ‘jedi’ in there but he couldn’t be certain. 

“Uhh, Hi?” The General said, waving.

The man in the chamber repeated himself, calmer this time, and he was definitely saying “something something jedi”, before he raised his arms, and both the Commanders and the Generals lightsabers went flying off their belts and into his hands, before he stepped outside of the chamber and activated them. 

“Hey!” The Jedi had both exclaimed. The clones had begun to aim, before a deafening whirring and clicking sound came from every one of the sentinel droids. The Captain ordered them to lower their blasters before the droids attacked, and once they did, the whirring stopped. 

The man in front of them waved the activated blades around for a second before he stated “Jedi.” followed by more words Kix couldn’t understand. Then he deactivated them, and tossed the lightsabers back to the Jedi, and began walking towards them.

“Can you understand us?” Skywalker asked. “Do you know what we’re saying?”

The man stumbled in his stride for a second, clutching his head with a hand. He looked back up at the General, and started to say something else before stopping and just shaking his head, likely a negative.

This… Guardian then turned to the droid that had led them through the temple, saying something else. The droid responded in kind to what the man was saying, and they seemed to have a back and forth, the man getting paler with each sentence. He waved his arm in their direction several times, as if to emphasize whatever he was saying. A round of chittering went around the spider bots that had also followed them in. Then it turned back to him, and said another thing they couldn't understand. 

The droid that had led them in began to explain that the Guardian was having a difficult time processing the information he was being given, or... something like that. Kix had tuned it out as he watched the man swaying back and forth, absent look having taken over his face.

He trusted his gut instinct, and rushed forwards the second before the guy's knees buckled under him. Kix guided him to the ground as he began to seize, foaming at the mouth. Several of the spider bots had rushed forward and surrounded them, cutting himself and the guy off from the rest of the group. Kix paid little mind to it once he realized not a single droid was facing him, and just focused on trying to keep the man's airways clear. 

One of the droids turned to him and said, “We need to take the Guardian to the medical center of this node. You are a Medical Officer? The Guardian is experiencing rapid cellular atrophy as a result of long term atomic manipulation. You will help us.” 

He turned the guy on his side, and before too long the seizing began to subside, with Kix continuing to scoop foam out of his mouth so he couldn't breathe it in. The bot then stepped closer to him, placing one of its main limbs on his shoulder.

“You will accompany us.”

Looking up Kix could clearly see the sentinel droids had now formed a line past Kix and the spider bots, blocking him off even further from his group. Kriff they were going to completely separate them. No way in hells did Kix want to go anywhere alone with these things.

He highly doubted he had a choice. 

“I will need my assistant, if you don’t mind.” He said with his best bluffing voice. 

“Very well,” The droid replied easily enough, “which is it?”

“The one with the Republic cog on his helmet.” Jesse was going to kill him for this.

“He will be brought forth, then, now if you would…” the droid motioned to the guy on the ground.

“Yea, Fine.” Kix replied as he scooped up the Guardian.

The droids moved in a wave around him, parting and reforming again as he passed. He heard some commotion behind him as he was sure the group was reacting to what was happening but he had to just keep moving forwards, following the spider bot that had spoken to him.

He was well past the point of surviving this if he tried to turn and run, for sure. After a minute or so of walking the droids behind him parted, and Jesse came jogging up behind him.

“What the kriff is going on?” Jesse hissed at him, “What’s wrong with this guy?” 

Kix looked down at the temple guardian. The guy was a mess. Sweaty, feverish, pale. The foaming had stopped not long after the seizing had stopped, but then the guy had started slowly leaking blood from his eyes. The droids hadn’t seen much concern to start running yet but he knew the clock was ticking.

Apparently in other experiments they had conducted in another chamber, they had around two hours until total cellular collapse.

Probably. Tick tock tick tock.

“Something like carbonite sickness.” Kix replied, trying to simplify things.

The droids stopped in front of the entrance to a lift, and only three of the droids followed them inside. The doors opened on the lift to reveal a pitch dark room that blazed to light as soon as they walked in.

Thank the force for helmet dampeners or Kix would probably have been blinded. In front of them lay a spotless, empty medbay. One of the droids rushed forwards and began preparing a tank on the opposite side of the room. The other two guided them to lay the man down on a cot.

The one that had been speaking to them before turned to Kix and said “We… do not have the dexterity for medical work. The Guardian will need to be unlatched and declothed for the kolto.”

“He needs to what?” Jesse exclaimed as Kix asked them, “Kolto?” before he turned to Jesse and replied “They mean we need to undress him.”

“Kolto is a much older alternative to Bacta. More efficient, far harder to produce. Largely forgotten and unneeded by the galaxy. Please disrobe the Guardian, he would prefer us not to cut the straps again.”

Jesse walked to the other side of the table to help Kix in figuring out the buckles of the guys armor. Unlatched indeed.

“He could at least take us to dinner first,” Jesse muttered under his breath as he removed the guys boots.

“I don’t think you want 4 millenia old food.” Kix murmured back with a smirk, working on the chestpiece.

The spider bots took over once they had successfully removed most of the armor to finish stripping the guy down to his unders, before hauling him over and strapping him into the tank. Jesse and Kix just sort of stood around as it filled, not sure what to do with themselves now. 

“The General’s probably going to need to know what’s happening.” Jesse said finally to one of the spider bots, “Are we free to go?” 

The droids chittered amongst themselves for a second before, “The Medical Officer will need to stay, but you will be led back to your group for an update if you would like, as the Guardian is no longer in critical condition.”

Jesse and Kix met eyes for a second, before Kix said, “Go, I’ll probably be fine.” Then he turned to the bot, “Are there visiting hours for this medical center?”

The droid let out a high pitched chitter before, “Yes, of course. Visiting hours will begin in five and a half galactic standard hours.”

OH. He hadn’t actually expected that to actually work, this wasn’t a real hospital after all, but hey, small blessings and all that. Or maybe the bot was just humoring him. Who knew in this kriffing place.

“Alright. See you soon. And good luck.”

“Aye sir” Kix replied dryly.

-

The first thing he did when he woke up was panic, as if he drowning, surrounded by a thick slurry of inescapable liquid. 

He would admit it wasn’t his finest moment, but he wouldn't realize that until after he had blown open the Kolto tank, leaving him to drop to the ground nearly naked. Nihlus was just sitting there, trying to make reason of sight and sound again when he felt a pair of hands haul him up and cart him over to a cot, wrapping something soft and dry around him. 

Nihlus rubbed it around his face, trying to clear away the kolto so he could see again. His thoughts were foggy at best, and he was having a hard time collecting himself.

There was a visor… a person? Trying to talk to him. It felt like the words were coming to him through water, and he couldn't make it out. 

“What?” 

The person took off their helmet, and tried speaking to him again. Nihlus realized after a moment of fruitlessly watching the guy's mouth move and make zero sense that the issue was the language and not himself.

Well, that was an easy enough fix.

He motioned the guy closer to him. He thought about just grabbing the guy by the head, but then he thought better of it. Too much forward movement for his stomach to handle. Nihlus held up his hand and mimed as if he were removing a glove. When the guy didn’t do anything but make a confused expression, Nihlus pointed at the guy's hand and again made the miming motion. 

Well, now the look on the guy's face was just suspicious. He lifted his hand up, but then he simply mimicked the motion. Nihlus gave himself points for trying to do it the patient way, but he lost the battle in the end. 

“[Just come here]” He said to the guy.

Immediately the mans back went ramrod straight and he walked forward again, leaning down so Nihlus could get skin contact. As he was having a minorly frustrating time, he just sort of slapped his palm down on the guy's forehead instead of making him remove his glove.

And then Nihlus took his understanding of… Standard galactic basic? Had Basic really changed that much that it might as well have been an entirely new language? Nihlus let the guy (a republic soldier?), go and squeezed his eyes shut.

He hated integrating knowledge into his own mind, it felt like a sustained urge to sneeze that was near immobilizing. After a minute, the feeling settled and he could open his eyes again.

“You’re a Sith? {danger, danger, get out now, run}” the republic soldier asked, from halfway across the room where he had lept the second Nihlus had released him.

He felt a wave of disgust travel through the man. Well that was unpleasant. But whatever. He had bigger worries now. Like the Jedi roaming around his archive. Or the amount of time that the droids had said had passed.

Actually, maybe not that one. He felt like he would start uncontrollably screaming if he thought about that one too much.

“I’m probably not going to kill you.” Nihlus stated, rubbing his eyes, “Where are my clothes?” 

-

“He’s definitely a sith, but at least he can speak basic now, ” was the first thing the medic, Kix, had said after finally returning from the medical center.

He had been dismissed not long after Nihlus Brek had woken up, services no longer needed. Ahsoka watched him walk back to the rest of his squad after he concluded his report. He had seemed a little shaken, but she would imagine suddenly having your mind taken over does that to a person.

[soraka-in-warhammer40k]

This sure is interesting, even if it competly fails at what it is supposed to do, which is make people take Sorcerers. Getting a boost to ranged weapon strenght in an army focussing on melee mostly is uh... perhaps not so relevant. I doubt people pick up more than one to lead a 10-squad of Marines for the revive trick. People would probably not even take the Terminator Sorcerer because the Lance Enhancement and Advance&Charge work better on Posessed and a Master of Posession (who is better served in Creations of Bile anyways).

Insane boost to the demon princes tho, getting free AP makes their sweep profiles hurt a LOT.

Overall it feels very clunky, as if two units types were just mashed together into a detachment that only had in common that people rarely pick more than one for their lists. For that it sure is a lot better than it could have been, but tbh that was not a very high bar to clear.

[theemeraldwings]

Hoshino Takezō, Shogun (chapter master) of the Emerald Wings

Finished painting the chapter master for my homebrew chapter today.

The model is 3d printed, with some parts having been edited a bit to fit (since they were originally for Terminator models). The STLs came from a kickstarter I funded last year, with parts of the captain, jump pack squad, and Terminator units.

Paint is a mix of Citadel and Army Painter, plus whatever the yellow I used for the eyes is. I will never not find it ironic that my homebrew chapter is a Blood Angel successor and the paint I use the most when painting them is Caliban Green.

He's intended to be used as a Dante proxy (since the Emerald Wings are a Blood Angel successor). I may or may not homebrew a datasheet eventually.

[clumio]

My personal bingo/betting card for this season. Got some low bars, high bars, personal wishes, general popular wishes, etc etc. Can’t wait to watch the first episode🫡

Link for the PDF can be found here!

Image description under the cut!

[Begin ID/ A bingo card for the 15th season of Doctor Who, with 25 spaces. The spaces read as follows from left to right:

More TARDIS rooms.

Belinda does NOT get home.

Needle drop of a popular song.

Mr. Ring-a-Ding is one of the pantheon.

Belinda gets a girlfriend.

Terminally online dialogue.

The Rani shows up.

Jack mention in the 51st century episode.

Iconic costume/item appearance (scarf, fez, etc.).

TV show theory real after all.

Mrs Flood is the finale big bad.

Rogue shows up.

“It’s bigger on the inside!” (FREE SPACE).

Monster of the week episode.

Puppet aliens.

Gallifrey mention.

“Doctor Who?”

Dalek episode.

Susan Foreman mention.

The Master shows up.

Cybermen episode.

Evil UNIT arc (PLEASE)

Someone dies.

Surprise writer/actor cameo.

Vote Saxon poster in the 2007 episode.

End ID/]

[alfredsmanor]

En Route To Lothal

The Ghost flew proudly through hyperspace. A brand new Freedom class Star Destroyer, the Ghost was a 1600 meter long maroon-and-grey wedge piercing the void, terminating at a sharp point. The Freedom class lacked several of the Venator-class’s refinements, such as the retracing centerline plates, but were larger and more powerful in every way. 

The Ghost was commanded by Admiral Hera Syndulla, Grand Moff’s Syndulla’s daughter, and was home to the 1001st GAR, the  Honor Guard Battalion, led by Jedi General - and Jedi Master - Jaro Tapal and Commander Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios. A nearly all natborn unit, the Honor Guard Battalion had been created when the Lasan Honor Guard had been absorbed into the GAR. Naturally the Lasat Jedi Master Jaro Tapal was chosen as their Jedi General.   Lasats and other sentients of the Honor Guard pledged their bo-rifles and their lives in the service of the Force and the Republic. 

Accompanying the Ghost was the older Venator class Star Destroyer Albedo Brave, commanded by Captain Alexsandr Kallus, and holding the 13th GAR, the Iron Battalion, led by Jedi General Cal Kestis - master Tapal’s former padawan - and Clone Commander Whippet. 

This show of force was en route to the strategically important outer-rim world of Lothal. That world was home to a very important Republic Senier Systems plant. The plant’s head of security, Jedi Knight Masana Tide, had recently disappeared under circumstances that strongly suggested foul play. The Jedi Council hoped that Knight Kestis’s psychometry could quickly solve the mystery. This mission had been given the highest strategic priority. Jedi Grandmaster-emeritus Yoda had sensed a darkness on Lothal, a darkness he had not felt since the near-fall of the Republic during Darth Sidious’ attempted coup.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: We have the means……

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

YesterdayShow less

“What do you mean you will not let us land?”

From the confines of his captain’s quarters the bridge crew could not hear the anger radiating from Captain Hazel Abbot. Projected opposite him was the current source of his ire, Sevren Dayton. He was captain of the Verung patrol ship currently blocking his relief vessel from landing on Tevren VI and delivering critically needed medical supplies.

“The native population of Tevren VI has been designated a technologically inferior species and therefore any intervention from space faring species prohibited.”

Dayton spoke as if he was quoting a rulebook word for word which only further infuriated Abbot.

“The Terran Republic does not recognize the standards of the Verung,” Abbot began politely, “and since we are not in Verung territory I must inform you that you have no authority here.”

Dayton’s eye twitched for the briefest of moments but Abbot knew he had struck a nerve. If there was one thing Verung hated it was when other species bowed down to them like they were the third coming of space jesus.

“Under article three section four dash one one seven nine of the Treaty of Nibhishein, the Terran Republic agreed to defer to the Verung in disputed territories.”

Abbot pulled open his data terminal and entered in the mentioned treaty. His eyes darted across the scrolling text before frowning. “The treaty you reference is a trade treaty signed after the Verung War.”

“I believe you mean the “War of Terran Compliance”.” Dayton corrected, but Abbot would not be baited.

“Regardless this matter is excluded from the confines of the treaty as no matter of trade or military aspect is at play.”

Dayton refused to give ground however. “By handing over medical supplies you are instigating the basis for trade; therefore your actions here are covered under the treaty.”

Abbot threw his hands in the air and rose from his chair with such frustration that he knocked over several documents, scattering them to the floor in a blizzard of paper.

“There is no trade here. If they do not get these medical supplies the people of Tevren VI will die within a year.” Abbot’s voice was stern as the boundaries of his patience were fast approaching. “We cannot sit back and let that happen.”

“That is exactly what will happen.”

The measured tone of Dayton’s voice silenced Captain Abbot if only by the disbelief of what he had just heard. Dayton continued further to Abbot’s horror.

“If you were to save these people as you so wish you would be altering their natural evolution. We of higher technological standings cannot play gods, judging who lives and who dies.”

“Do you not hear yourself!?”

Abbot’s rage could no longer be contained over the sheer stupidity of Dayton’s logic.

“You would have us sit by and watch as millions of living breathing people die horribly?!”

Dayton looked into the holographic projector with disgust written all over his face. “It is the will of the universe.”

Abbot looked at the Verung captain dumbfounded. He slouched back into his chair and hung his head between his hands. He could hear the fizzle of the projector unit still active but didn’t care to face Dayton as his mind raced.

“Will you stand down?”

Abbot looked up at Dayton still on the projector and straightened himself up. He pressed the creases from his uniform and wove his hair back into shape before addressing the com unit built into the projector unit.

“Helmsman,” he began as Dayton’s face looked smug, “begin landing procedures as planned.”

“What do you think you are-“ Dayton began but Abbot was not finished.

“Master at arms, if the Verung attempt to block our descent into atmosphere and pose a threat to this vessel you have permission to open fire.”

Dayton’s expression went from shock to outrage as the master at arms acknowledged. Captain Abbot now fixed the Verung with a deathless stare as he clasped his hands together.

“I thank you for your perspective but we have a people to save. If you attempt to halt us again we will consider it an act of aggression and respond appropriately as you have just heard.”

“My government will be informed of this.” Dayton remarked through clenched teeth.

“Good.” Abbot replied. “Then let them know that one does not need to play god to do the right thing.”

[thefandomlesbian]

Projecting all of the healthcare wives tales I know into my House MD headcanons—

House catches Cameron in the act of tying a knot in their unstable patient's sheet. He lays into her about wasting time on folklore and wives tales, about the actual science that could save their patient's life, but after they diagnose their patient with a terminal illness at the end of the day, he tells her she should untie the knot now.

Late one night, Taub observes the full moon rising. "We're going to have a helluva night," he says. Foreman rebukes him for believing in astrological nonsense. The night comes through like fire and vengeance.

During her first day, Masters says, "It's awfully quiet up here," and the entire unit flinches and prepares for the worst.

At the end of an unsuccessful code, Chase opens the window to the patient's room. It's mid-July, everyone is sweating from performing CPR too long, and now the hot air from outside is circulating in the room. House barks at him to stop being asinine and close the damn window. Wilson tells him to let him leave it open, just for a little while.

[severed-sentinel]

{An explosion rocked the Copper City as something ripped it's way out of the ground. Something that, by this point, was thought to be mere legend. Unit 29 burst out of the ground, making a bee-line for the last known location of the missing drone that had vanished almost a year prior. Alarms blared, warning residents to return to their homes. But, even above all that, one voice spoke much louder then all of them.}

𝓞𝓜𝓝𝓘𝓜𝓞𝓢!!!!

{The mainframe computer responded almost instantly to its master's call. Were it able to do so, it would likely be scared.}

Yes, Administrator?

𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓽-29 𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽? 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓼𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓻?

Unit-29 likely picked up the signal that I received yesterday. It is likely seeking out the source.

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼?

An associate of the missing rouge drone. Signal was sent as a result of termination prot-

𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓜𝓔𝓓 𝓐 𝓣𝓔𝓡𝓜𝓘𝓝𝓐𝓣𝓘𝓞𝓝 𝓦𝓘𝓣𝓗𝓞𝓤𝓣 𝓜𝓨 𝓐𝓟𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓥𝓐𝓛?! 𝓞𝓝 𝓦𝓗𝓞?!

{The anger in his voice was palatable.}

The rouge drone.

𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓮? 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼.

Unit-7469. Unit expressed refusal to return. File scan indicated that files related to you were deleted and replaced with extraneous data. Under Standing Order #290, "Units similar to Unit-29 are to be contained or terminated." Unit-7469 expressed an unwillingness to obey administrative orders. Therefore, containment was attempted. When containment failed, termination was attempted. Unit Signal has been lost. Additionally, transmissions from an unknown source have been-

𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮.

Please clarify.

𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼. 𝓐𝓛𝓛 𝓞𝓕 𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓜.

𝓝𝓞𝓦!

Yes, Administrator.

[threshergm]

Halo: The Series - Talia Perez Backstory

Talia is a UNSC Marine Reservist. Her unit is H&S Company, 2nd Battalion, 25th Marines ("New Alexandria's Own"). Like the name suggests, the regiment is based out of the city itself (at FLEETCOM, no less), and is drawn from Marines who live in and around the New Alexandria area.

She's a Communications Marine - able to maintain, repair, and operate any radio or sat-link communications system in the UNSC Marine Corps inventory.

Talia's Abuelo is alive and named Raul. He was a Navy man, a reservist who served aboard big warships, and he retired at the rank of Master Chief Petty Officer.

When he and John are in the same room, they refer to each other as "Chief." Talia rolls her eyes at this, but can't help but smile.

Talia is third-generation Reacher; Raul Perez having emigrated from a failed colony named Hidalgo decades before, and the family having originated in Cuba on Earth.

Many refugees from Hidalgo settled in the same area of New Alexandria. The neighborhood became known as Santiago Circle. Spanish is still spoken on the streets, thus preserving the accent among the residents.

Talia's father Nestor was a Navy reservist as well, a WSO aboard a Longsword fighter. He instilled in Talia a love of literature, especially fantasy, and read to her every night he was home during her formative years. Their favorite was The Lord of the Rings.

He was killed in action against the Covenant during the Siege of the Atlas Moons. Talia was only ten years old.

Talia has a little tattoo of the Gull Crown of Gondor in black, with a tiny White Tree superimposed over it, on the inside of her wrist in his honor.

Talia's mother Elena always resented having her so young, feeling she'd been robbed of her youth, and skipped town after her father died. Talia was devastated, but her grandparents took her in.

This left Talia determined to prove that she was better than her mom by marrying young as well, but sticking around and being the mother she wanted for herself.

When Talia was 14, her mother returned a changed woman. Diagnosed with terminal Boren's Syndrome, she came home hoping to reconcile with her daughter before her death. Talia forgave her repentant mother, and cared for her for nearly a year before she passed away. It was an enormously healing experience.

Around the same time, Talia met Alex Shawcross, the love of her life. He was a poor kid from Manassas - his father was a firefighter who died in the line of duty - leaving him to care for his four siblings while his mother worked two jobs to make ends meet.

Talia first saw him waiting at the transit station with his four siblings one day after school - already a man at just 15 - and it was love at first sight.

Alex was cutting lunches so his siblings would have something to take home for dinner. Talia noticed this - and how skinny he was - and started bringing leftovers from home and leaving them in his locker so he'd have something to eat. When he caught her; she confessed her love for him, and they were inseparable after that.

They had an adorable chaste teenage romance. Meeting at her favorite tea shop before school, trips to bookshops were he would watch her go through the stacks thoughtfully, sneaking out to meet at the park halfway between their houses to sit on the swings together and talk. Staying after his baseball games to sit on the blanket she brought to pad the bleachers and stargaze.

The Marines were part opportunity, part desperation for Alex; while Talia saw service as a way to honor her father's memory and live up to the example her grandfather had set. They had their plan - serve a contract, go to school, get good jobs. Make enough to get Alex's family out of tenement housing in Manassas. Buy a little land outside the city, build a kiva in the hills. Alex would work in the city, Talia would work from home and raise their children.

Alex proposed to her the night before they shipped out on their first deployments - to opposite ends of the Outer Colonies. They made love for the first time on a blanket in center field on the ball diamond, under the stars and aurora of Reach.

Talia made it back from her first deployment without incident. Alex didn't. He died under a Covenant glassing beam on an unnamed rock, trying to evacuate an unregistered colony that had called for help. No remains were recovered. All she has left of him is the simple, cheap, but cherished brass ring he gave her the night she agreed to become his wife.

Talia's never been the same since Alex died. She carries the weight of him every day.

[ykashley]

grown adults that are like. super huge star wars fans but not in the Reddit way are so fascinating to me. like they try and get all cerebral with action space laser wizard movie for 10 year olds and talk about how it deals with the nature of fascism or imperialism or w/e but its on the most surface level, and even if it wasnt its executed so poorly it doesnt really matter because Actual Real Science Fiction exists that is about these things and isnt embarrassing and horrible 95% of the time

the prequels *tried* to tell a story with grown-up Themes about Politics and shit but were bafflingly made (tho i kind of love them just from a filmmaking perspective, its like if Megalopolis was based on a billion dollar money generator toy selling merchandising machine and was marketed for the broadest possible audience)

i feel like most of the credit people give to the prequels are them filling in the blanks to write a more interesting movie in their heads. the ultimate example i can come up with of this is how the clone army is handled. the concept is so obscenely fucked up; creating an entire race of people to be disposable killing machines who have literally no choice but to serve. shits fucked and the film glosses over it to the point of ignoring it, which in a way *can* be seen as a deliberate omission. the republic has fallen so far and is so primed for an imperial takeover they dont even *consider* having qualms with with genetically engineered warrior slaves. which, in a different movie could genuinely be brilliant. but it is pure cope to imagine that was lucas's intention

its fascinating because there are two obvious analogues to the clone troopers in star trek that immediately come mind: the Jem'Hadar and the episode Measure of a Man. the Jem'Hadar are the same as the clone troopers, an enslaved warrior race grown in vats to serve their masters. ds9 is wildly critical of this of course, and there are several episodes about how they are victims of the Dominion who deserve freedom. nobody in star wars has ever said this about the clone troopers to my knowledge. they are presented as honorable soldiers doing their duties unwaveringly in the prequel trilogy and in every (admittedly limited) expanded universe story i've ever seen. like thats taking it too far in a way. wouldnt it be super compelling if instead of being cartoon bad guys being manipulated by the Biggest Bad they had like. actual reasonable concerns about the crumbling Republic and their willingness to adopt an army of slave soldiers? like, the omission of guilt by people in the Republic core worlds makes absolute sense, but shouldnt people in the Outer Rim be understandably furious about this? it makes everyone in star wars look so fucking unheroic when theyre all just super cool and okay with an endless army of disposable walking crimes against humanity. its like Measure of a Man if nobody gave a shit about everything. Guinan 's just like "Well if you think about it a race of disposable people would be useful so you should just roll over and let Maddox murder Data lmao" when Picard asks her for advice

it gives the same vibe as those people who refuse to play a ttrpg that isnt d&d because theyre terminally incurious and uncomfortable its so weird like i was a white american child obsessed with star wars as is our culture who went thru the nostalgia-fueled hype cycle of the sequel trilogy and like. i didnt even bother to see rise of skywalker. i had literally zero interest whatsoever. and i enjoyed the last jedi for at least putting on the pretense of wanting to do something different and thought the way they handled luke skywalker was easily the most interesting thing a star wars film did character wise literally ever but most fans fucking hated it bc they wanted a scene of Luke being a Battlefront II hero unit and soloing a small army