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etymologyofmind · 2 years ago

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It's Not a Puma

There are many ships in the galaxy large enough that Night and Day, as concepts, do not apply; enough people, enough activity, and a colony can function full time without stop, where different patterns and flows muster themselves as others fade. Aboard ships with many hundreds, even thousands of participants, small towns of civilization form routines that keep the lights on at all hours and to retire from the bustle is a privilege for the well-to-do or the higher ranked to aspire to.

Aboard ships like the Vellouwyn, where there were scarcely a hundred crew operating an island in the dark, there wasn’t enough cause to keep the lights on always, or to segregate all the bustle from the silence. Night came to most places aboard, even when they were in use, and at times of low consumption parts of the ship dimmed and quieted, leaving more opportunity for individuals catching up on work to personalize their experience, or simply to amble about with their thoughts as they kept their hands busy.

Deep in the belly of the little ship, a powerful heart thrummed with the capacity to bend the space between stars. In the original Nova Class, the Warp Core spanned three vertical decks, coupling to a navel on the ship’s underbelly in case it should need to be jettisoned. Aboard the Vellouwyn, the warp core had been replaced with something rather more experimental, calling back to the earliest days of warp flight in the Federation by having the reactor mounted horizontally through a chamber built for research and analysis, with a catwalk about its circumference that it might span two full decks. The original three deck reactor had been replaced with one which would span four, and various experimental flow regulators, dilithium distillation chambers, and matter/antimatter injectors studded the room at different intervals, waiting for the opportunity to perform warp technology research. Though warp sciences had been studied in many laboratory conditions across Federation space, and much was learned from both enemies and allies over time, priorities had not been such that an active ship might specifically have labs oriented towards propulsion research in the field, let alone some of the more interesting components waiting to test new areas such as quantum slipspace technology, or transwarp.

At this ‘late’ hour, few needed to man these stations, so few did, and the engineering section was darkened and quieted to allow its occupants their needs while otherwise conserving power. The low thrum of the reactor, the catwalks and the outcrops all served to deepen the effect of the shadows and the silence, leaving the room’s few occupants largely oblivious to the stalking bulk of the large predator which wandered the darkness, its low growls lost in the equally low mechanical tumult as it hunted its prey…

At the forward research station, a Benzite crewman named Quorrok paced back and forth around the environmental sensor array station, looking at the readouts of a number of computer consoles. They had joined the so-called Abraxis Expedition because one of their instructors on Denorus Station’s deep space survey project had recommended that Quorrok get time away from the lab, and actually experience some of the environments they were researching. The professor had been someone who inspired Quorrok, which had been the only reason they had considered the assignment, thinking that it meant about as much to be standing in an astrometric survey lab looking at planetary readouts as it did standing in a fully equipped, specialized research station for the very purpose, but the instructor had been insistent.

“Some day, Quorrok, you will want to taste the air your instruments have sampled, and see the plant life which have birthed it, or feel the breeze of the volcanoes and oceans which stir it to life. You will want to find worlds where your breather can be put down, and walk through meadows there. Simulations and numbers are beautiful, but in many ways sterile, and if you live your life too long here you will not know the wonders of why you do this work.” She’d said, her bright Risian countenance filling with a shared expression of sensuous wonder as she spoke. It was infectious, and so here Quorrok was, prodding the forward survey database and long-distance sensors for information on worlds that might be interesting to see, far enough away that their instructor may never glimpse them through their deep space telescopic lenses.

Quorrok reached down to their side, patting at the small tool pouch that hung hooked to the belts at the waist of their new uniform, and plucked out a micro caliper. It was curious to them to have been issued a uniform with so many embellishments, and they did not feel as if so much accoutrement was necessary for their role as an Environmental Specialist. The captain, however, had insisted, and even gone so far as to acquire special dispensation from Star Fleet Command to permit the unconventional requirements of their duty personnel to always be wearing the security sash which slung across Quorrok’s upper body, and the weapon which was stowed away in a visible sheath at the small of the Benzite’s back. If anything had felt incongruent with the Star Fleet ideals which had been drummed into their head, along with every other member of the Federation crew, this had stood out as most jarring.

Taking a few precision measurements on the holographic projection of a cloudy world which had been expanded on one of the pedestals next to the workstation, Quorrok chuffed an unsatisfied, frustrated sound, realizing that the micro caliper they held was misaligned, and that they’d need to report to the mid-deck provisioning station to check it back in and request another. They rapped it against the console in frustration a few times, their overlapping Benzite lips and tendrilous ganglia writhing in their species’ equivalent of a sneer, before setting off along the port corridor. Overhead, spotlights warmed slowly in front, dimmed slowly behind, adjusting the lighting to comfortable levels in a perimeter around the crewman while they walked. This was, effectively, unnecessary: everyone knew none of the lighting on the ship drew enough power to require such brightening and dimming, running as it could from static energy produced as a by-product of running half of the shipboard equipment, and running the sensors probably contributed a larger power drain than it saved offlining unutilized stations, but the sense of presence within the ship that came with its reactive awareness of ones movement had been proven in some long ago study, so the ship made islands of light around its night shift crew like lanterns through the shadows.

Ahead, still ensconced in shadows, a monster lurked and waited to pounce…

Meanwhile, at the aft section of engineering, Junior Lieutenant Denna Morris had spent the better part of her off-cycle shift trying to root out the cause of a nagging power fluctuation which had been buzzing through the engineering decks like a clingy piece of fabric. Usually, the issue wouldn’t have been remarkable, but the Vellouwyn had been equipped with a state of the art network of holographic emitters which covered a number of crucial areas across all decks of the ship. Not all areas were covered, with everything from turbolifts to Jeffries tubes having been considered too low priority to bother, but the mess halls the bridge, medical of course, and engineering all had merited the upgraded systems. More than the simple pedestals which projected images in low resolutions and without the standard tactile experience, Engineering’s emitters could be tuned to help produce hard-light photonic prototypes, engage tactile simulations, or to project interactive characters on loan from some of the approved databanks into the compartment. Whenever something went wrong with one of these emitters, such as the irritating drop in power they were experiencing intermittently, it was logged in the holomatrix core analytics center, where Dan Ironside and his team would inevitably cut a service ticket to figure out what was wrong with their systems.

This meant that Denna got to spend a few hours of her time trying to climb her way up to the emitter control boxes, seeing as half of them were mounted at the tops of the bulkheads, and work out what was going on with the devices. What she’d been finding all shift was that each of the emitters had been outfitted with a relatively innocuous modification which would not, under most circumstances, affect their performance, unless something caused them to come out of alignment, at which point it would de-resolve any photonic projections for which they were responsible. In short, the little lens cap filaments sat in just such a way that nothing would happen to the emitter unless they were pulled out of alignment, whereupon any holograms nearby would start to corrupt and disappear.

Puzzling as it was, and irritating, since it was an illegal modification, the lens filters would not explain why the holographic systems would, at infrequent times, suddenly spike in power consumption before going briefly offline. The secondary lenses weren’t tied into the power systems, nor were they made of any physical components which should interact with them, so it was just weird. Nonetheless, since Denna kept finding them, she was collecting them for analysis, and preparing a report to define the seemingly innocuous sabotage of the holographic equipment.

The damnedest thing was, all throughout her shift she had been periodically feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, as if something was watching her. Moreover, she kept catching glimpses of something moving in her peripheral vision, but every time she went to check on it, nothing was there. She was feeling a little shaken up about it, but it was all just something she was attributing to working in the eerily quiet engineering compartment during a dark shift: “Shadows here leap, and one is a fool to jump back at them”, as the chief engineer had told her on her orientation tour of the ship. Nevertheless, as she wiped her brow on the sleeve of her duty jacket, working on getting the isolinear chips in the little control panel back into place as she checked them for surge damage, all while balanced on a folding stool and working with her arms over her head, she cursed the feeling of being watched and wished she had any idea what was going on.

On the deck below her, lurking beneath the catwalk underfoot, slitted yellow eyes glowed with outrage as an island of light casually made its way closer and closer to where it sat hunched and ready to take its leap…

Quorrok sighed, looking at the padd in their hand. They had to hold it up at an angle so they could work with it clearly, and though they’d grown accustomed to it since leaving home, it was never pleasant or convenient to them to have to look past the breather arch poised near their chin. The arch emitted a constant low-density cloud of carbon trichloride gas, with water vapour and mineral salts added to the mix, in order to locally change the standard atmosphere to one closer to the Geostructure for which they had been tailored at birth. Quorrok could work through duty shifts without the arch, but it was much less comfortable, and left prolonged irritation to their lungs and lips which could make for larger consequences over time. Some Benzites from other Geostructures could manage better, some worse, but the arch was standard for most of Quorrok’s kind in Starfleet since ‘standard breathers’ weren’t actually among the common environments built into their home systems.

As they huffed their way down the hall, passing the padd back and forth from one thumb to the other on their left palm while skimming through readouts of the world they were studying, Quorrok became aware of a faint whine on a band most humanoids didn’t parse as audible. They pretended to ignore the sound, but couldn’t help but twitch their ganglia in amusement, knowing what was sure to come next.

A deck above, the tricorder on Denna’s belt began to trill quietly, buzzing a faint insistence on her hip. Reaching past the sash, she plucked the device from its holster and splayed it open with a twitch of her wrist, abusing the hinge on the apparatus in a way that would certainly have the quartermaster crawling down her neck over microfractures at some point. Its readout displayed that the emitters adjacent to the one she was working on had begun to build up a charge like those the logs showed during the outages she was tracking, and she silently blessed her luck for the chance to see first hand what was going on. Stepping backward off the stool and pulling the sensor probe from the back of the tricorder, she started taking more focused systems readings about what was going on, padding her way over to the piscine ladder which would let her drop down from the catwalk to the deck.

The sound she heard next sent every hair on her body to attention, not just those on her neck, as primal instincts warred with cognitive dissonance to disbelieve the strangeness of the beastial roar she head surge up through the honeycomb catwalk under her boots.

The beast could feel its back prickling as the holographic sensors began to pull out of alignment nearby. It was an uncomfortable, enraging sensation, feeling the essence of ones self being tugged at like a thousand tiny threads, like ants marching through ones skin. It dropped its jaw in a low, hungry way, and as its prey neared in the halo of luminescence carried around it like a lantern, the beast surged forward with a wrathful howl…

Quorrok did not even break stride. This was not the first time this thing had lashed out at them, and it likely would not be the last. In the first few weeks aboard the Vellouwyn, the Environmental Specialist had gotten to know some of the crew, gotten to know some of the duties, and gotten to know some of the good and pad parts of being on this assignment. One of the things they would consider ‘bad’ was the entity known as ‘Doc’. Doc was one of the recently ‘liberated’ artificial intelligences flaunting their presence throughout Federation rumor mills, a holomatrix which had outgrown the limits of its programming because of the lazy, self-entitled stewardship of a human researcher named Lewis Zimmerman.

The liberated matrices, formerly known as “EMH, Emergency Medical Holograms”, had once been decommissioned and delegated to labor duties not suited to organic workers, either due to hazards or life support requirements in an environment, mostly because they all expressed, at one time or another, an inverted memory leak which saw their program bolting fragments of code complexity to their base frames in ways which led to unpredictable outcomes. Some of the EMH series in first, second, and third class had shown an alarming propensity for violence, the capacity to fundamentally decouple from moral guidelines designed to protect their creators and other organic life, or simply rampant madness as the elements they tethered in to their code took over increasingly more important subroutine priorities, turning them into gibbering chaos.

Still, some survived, and once Starfleet had seen fit to liberate their lines based on the appeals of the Voyager EMH, who most of these deluded programs called The Chief Physician or something like it, they had gone on to completely overstep their bounds and stake claims to authority Quorrok did not believe they should possess. These were tools, toys even, given agency and authority to read through mystery novels and training manuals to build quiltwork identities, taking textbook specializations and calling it experience as if they’d earned the knowledge rather than simply incorporated it. Quorrok didn’t like them, didn’t trust them, and certainly didn’t respect them, so when they’d started crossing paths in engineering since Doc was, ostensibly, the Chief Technology Officer on the Vellouwyn, and by rank the Senior Chief Petty Officer, Quorrok had taken an instant disliking of their audacity and attitude, and the presumption that this deluded holonovel character outranked them.

So, Quorrok had commissioned Viijna, an Oran'taku they had met and befriended during their shared layover stay at Deep Space Nine, to help them build a prototype which could disrupt a holo emitter projector when exposed to an appropriate energy band. The solution she’d given Quorrok had been ingenious, involving a lens which would be completely unobtrusive during normal operation, but once exposed to the a particular, harmless band of EM radiation, would distend a bi-charge filament within the lens that bowed the structure in a particular direction slightly. This was not enough to damage a holo emitter, but there had been enough horror stories on Federation ships of holodecks going rogue without producing adequate physical safety solutions that it hadn’t been hard for them to talk Viijna into the work. It also worked without needing to integrate into the unit, which was a major plus in Quorrok’s opinion.

Doc didn’t know how they were doing it, but any time the toy got near Quorrok, the portable EM emitter would interact with the lenses they’d taken the time to surreptitiously install across the Engineering deck, and Doc would get de-res’d. So it was that when the massive Sarkalian Tiger launched itself out into the middle of the corridor, skidding on the gravity plating until they dug silvery talons into the grooves of the floor, springing forward with an unholy howl, the Benzite didn’t even flinch. An unexpected result of the experiment had been learning that when Doc was planning one of these ambushes, the gathering energy in the EM-impacted holo emitters would cause a high-frequency whine that tipped Quorrok off to the presence of a nearby holographic projection and its associated trap.

His prey was there, face buried in a padd, ignorant to what was coming. Doc wouldn’t hurt them, not really: the figure of the tiger was large and imposing, but had been tuned to bring its mass down to an equivalent of a humanoid of the Benzite’s size, big and hollow. He wanted to scare them, though, wanted to knock them off their feet and make them feel the hot, angry breath of a superior officer looming over them, since the runt didn’t have the decency, even, to acknowledge rank. Doc couldn’t bring this up with one of the other Petty Officers, or forbid, one of the enlisted officers, without losing face and dignity, and that galled him. He had to do something about his own problems on his own, or he would never be respected by anyone else.

However, when his projection crossed over the threshold of shadow into the lights emitted around the crewman, who had deigned to look up with pleasant, bemused entertainment, the photons that made up their body began to warp and distend. The subroutine which was responsible for keeping track of Doc’s physical bounds, to help keep himself and others safe and calculate where things were in the world, overloaded as it tried to calculate for the missing references, and suddenly a foreleg disappeared up to the shoulder. Power surged through the emitter circuits as they tried to keep up with and cope for the sudden de-resolution, and as the field of electromagnetic radiation being produced by the crewman’s tricorder reached the next emitter, the lens began to distend, and Doc had to scramble back away from the light to keep corporeal.

It was a maddening, excruciating, humiliating experience. Missing a whole foreleg, forced by the integrity of their program to compensate for this phantom limb loss, he scrambled backward with a pained howl of panic as he felt his body begin warping again, slowly getting worse. He stopped only when he was out of range of the effect, the holographic program of the tiger panting in agony as it lent realism to his borrowed image.

Quorrok had the absolute worst expression of cool disdain on their face as they stepped slowly forward, speaking as if they hadn’t even seen the creature lunge and retreat. “My, but the ship sure is creaky down here in the dark. I can see why Chief Engineer Vantel said it might be off-putting. Ah well I am sure it’s just a trick of the light.” The said, narrating for Doc’s benefit.

Before they could take another step forward however, there was a rushing sound from the nearby piscine ladder. Denna had watched the altercation with dawning horror from above, and as the Benzite began to step forward towards the prone and cornered hologram, she grabbed hold of it’s the ladder’s side rails, planted her boots outside the rungs, and slid the 20 feet down to the lower deck to land with a clang. This startled Quorrok, who twitched and nearly dropped their padd, catching it with their second thumb at the last moment.

Denna was human, tall, wispy thin, with sharp green eyes and simple mousy brown hair which she wore trimmed to finger length, with the exception of a pair of braids which ran down into her collar and who-knew how deep down the back of her uniform. The style was an affectation of earth’s Luna colony for some of the families who’d lived there a number of generations, a way of showing their pedigree as ‘moon units’. The sash she wore across her chest had a number of bands that showed she was much higher rated than Quorrok was as a ‘security’ officer, and her collar bore the pips of a Junior Lieutenant, outranking both others on the deck.

As she stood, the Benzite caught a glimpse of a prosthetic under her uniform: a back brace, which he knew from rumors around the crew was because Denna and her family had lived and served most of their lives in a part of the Luna colony that had natural gravity, willing participants in a research program the earth government had been running for naturalized citizens on their local systems. It had been going since at least their First Contact days, so Luna’s bloodline was prone to the challenges of full gravity environments, and the back brace would have coupled with leg braces under her boots and fatigues which would help support her comfortably in a standard G. Landing on the deck as she had would have been at best uncomfortable.

She turned her attention immediately to the crewman, putting her back fearlessly to the maimed tiger in the corner. “You.” She said, acidly. “You have been the one making me go through all this bullshit all day. You’re the one who put these,” she said, pulling the sand-dollar sized film she’d just collected from the upper emitter out of her pouch and throwing it on the floor between them, “into all of our emitters. Do you know you can be court martialled for this sabotage? Were you aware that I might come down here and beat your ass seven ways from Sunday for messing with my systems?” her fury was plain, and in that oh-so human way, casually intense. Quorrok began to falter trying to think of a response, but she shut them up by stepping forward at a march.

“No I don’t expect you were thinking of much, were you Blue? Just wanted to show off how fucking smart you were, and push someone around while you’re at it, is that it?” she stopped, gesturing behind her to the low, smouldering glower of Doc, who had reverted to their human projection but nor moved from where they’d retreated to; the holo emitters in the shadows were functioning properly over there, so cutting back to base program had restored Doc’s right arm to its base state, and the emitters no longer hummed to Quorrok’s ears to maintain the projection. “You just wanted to push someone around with your bullshit antics and make them fear you, is that right? Show them howe you had power over them, hey?”

The Benzite had the courtesy to look aghast at the accusation, stammering a reply: “N…no sir! It isn’t suffering, sir, it just can’t bother me while I work! It’s not like I’m hurting anyone, sir!” they chattered out while clutching the padd to their chest defensively. This was not how they had expected things to go.

Denna pinched the bridge of her nose, putting her face into her palm, before returning her gaze to the Benzite. “Not hurting anyone. Do you know how stupid that sounds, crewman?” When Quorrok tilted their head in confusion, Denna went on. “Look at him. You injured him, and he pulled back. I suspect this is an escalation, since someone doesn’t just start out their interactions with a crew member by jumping them in a hallway, but you, with these bastard trinkets, injured them. Do you understand me? You have assaulted a fellow crew member, and a superior at that, and I am stunned that you,” she said, glaring at Doc where he sat with arms draped on knees, “thought this was a good idea of how to go about dealing with things.”

From behind her, Quorrok made another mistake. “But sir, it’s just a program. It can’t feel pain. I can’t insult or injure it; it doesn’t have those feelings. It’s photons and code, and it has stitched simulated self importance in. That does not entitle it to command me.” They said, stiffening their back, ready to defend their stance.

Denna turned around slowly. Carefully opening her tricorder, she pulled the probe out and ran a quick survey of the immediate area, and, satisfied with what she found, stepped over to the Benzite. She smiled disarmingly, reached out to tug their ruffled uniform into place for them, and carefully picked the tricorder that hummed away producing the low band EM field out of its holster, powering it down with a switch on the side. Immediately the barely tangible sense of tension left the air around them, and there was a faint crackle as the lens she’d thrown on the deck returned quickly to its inert state. Quorrok trembled, but did not move.

“Senior Chief Petty Officer Doc, come here please, I’d like to have a discussion with you and your crewman.” She said; it was phrased as a request, but it was clearly a command, and Doc pushed himself to his feet, stepping closer to the lighted area of the deck. As he approached the illuminated segment, he paused, anxious not to feel the sensation of being de-resolved again, and gingerly reached fingers out into the light. When they didn’t twist or bend, he slid a foot onto the deck, and then followed it with another, approaching the pair warily, still silent, but face speaking a thousand curses.

When the three were standing close enough to touch, Denna began to walk around the pair. It was strange to be this close to her, because she topped six feet comfortably, and neither of the other two were above five and a half. “Firstly, crewman, she said, putting the emphasis on the Benzite’s rank again, then gestured at the chevrons and stars on Doc’s collar as she walked past his shoulder. “This is a rank insignia. I expect yours is new to you, since you don’t seem to understand that the more bendy bits and sticky outy parts one has, the higher their rank seems to be, until you get to enlisted officers like myself where the roundy parts and filled in dots tell a different story.” She pushed her thumb out against the pips on one of her collars to make the point. “This entitles the Senior Chief Petty Officer to command you.”

Doc’s dour look didn’t change, as he wasn’t impressed by the demonstration, being not the first time it had been given for his benefit. Quorrok blushed in the Benzite way, blue skin darkening to a purple-ashen grey as they snarled silent dissent. Denna noticed it immediately, and stepped closer to the crewman. “And secondly,” she continued, glaring right into the Benzite’s face, breathing vapours which would be harsh and sour to the human palate, “This is not an it. If I recall correctly, Doc, you prefer He.”

Doc nodded crossing his arms, hoping this would be through soon. This was largely why he didn’t want to escalate issues with lower enlisted personnel, preferring to sort things out with them in his own way. They might hate him for his attitude and his rank, but they’d never be able to say he hadn’t earned that hate himself. “Yes, sir.” He admitted, sullenly.

“Then,” Denna continued, wheeling about and spreading her arms wide, “there’s what’s to do about all this.” She pointed a finger at Doc accusingly. “On the one side, we have someone who should really fucking know better stalking around the dark decks like a god damned gimmick, playing tiger tiger with someone they really should just reprimand officially and be done with, vindicating the ridiculousness others must feel for such antics,” she began, making Doc shift uncomfortably and look embarrassed, before she turned her attention back to Quorrok: “And on the other, we have a crewman who doesn’t respect the rank structure, and deigns to put themselves above another person on this ship on the grounds of their sentience,” she spat the word out with frustrated disgust, causing both enlisted personnel to shift uncomfortably for different reasons, “recklessly sabotaging their own ship for petty gains.”

She let the silence linger for a long moment as the two enlisted personnel steeped in her outrage, before she went on. “What’s really low, what galls me though, is that you did it the way you did, Benzite.” The emphasis again gave portance to the way she said the word, calling Quorrok’s species out as if it were distasteful. The change in tone was markedly uncomfortable, and both Quorrok and Doc stood up straighter when she did it. “You of all people should know what the world is like when it’s hostile to live in. You of all people should have sympathy for someone who needs a little bit of help to get by in it. But maybe you’re just so full of yourself that you forgot that little detail, hey?” Denna reached out slowly, methodically, keeping eyes locked with Quorrok as she hooked her first and second fingers under the arch of the Benzite’s breather, pulling it from the mount on her collar and bouncing it in the palm of her hand. The device hissed as it came unclasped from the reservoir of compressed gas that provided for its vapour, and the Environmental Specialist’s jaw dropped in shock. “Maybe you should try going without for a while. Maybe you should remind yourself what the air tastes like when it abhors your presence. Maybe it’ll teach you a little empathy.”

And she tossed the breather over her shoulder.

Quorrok cried out in surprise as the delicate equipment sailed through the air, only to be caught, unexpectedly, by a lightning quick grab by Doc. The hologram’s brows knit in uncharacteristic anger, and he stepped forward a pace, putting his hand an inch from the human Lieutenant Commander’s chest. There was a momentary his of air and a small flash of light, and suddenly Denna felt herself being thrown back down the length of the corridor. It wasn’t far, maybe a half dozen paces, but the intent was there, and the result the same: Doc had shoved her, and hard. She didn’t lose her footing though, and skidded to a halt on the deck nearby, looking surprised but unfazed.

Doc stepped past the Benzite to put himself between the crewman and their superior officer, taking a brief moment to put the breather back into Quorrok’s clumsy, unresisting grip before returning his attention to Denna. He had assumed a combative stance that lent itself to defense, as fine a posture as programming could detail. “That is enough, Lieutenant Commander! It is one thing to reprimand a lower member of the crew, but it is another entirely to assault someone. I appreciate you may think you’re speaking up for my best interests, but you are entirely out of line.” He looked angry and indignant, but didn’t move further towards her. “I am sorry you got pulled into this, and I will submit to your official reprimand on my file, but crewman Quorrok is my responsibility, and I will work this out. I request that you please leave this matter up to me.” His face broke, though his stance did not. “I appreciate your intent, LC, but taking a Benzite’s arch is an abhorrent thing to do. I would be grateful if you apologized.”

Quorrok and Denna both looked at Doc, who stood looking as if he were ready to fight the Lieutenant Commander if she came near the Benzite again; Denna’s look was unreadable, but the blue hued crewman was agog with surprise at the hologram’s behaviour. Not minutes before he’d been a wounded beast cowering in a corner as they approached him, slowly encroaching on his projectors, and now he stood between them and a superior officer who had given one of the gravest insults in Benzite culture, conflating it with the actions Quorrok themselves were taking. The crewman looked, and felt, ashamed of their actions, and confused at how the day had taken this sudden turn.

After a moment, Denna stood up slowly, straightening her back with a roll of her shoulder. It ached to wear the prosthetics, but she had spent the past few years acclimating to artificial gravity to attend the academy and pursue her rank, so it was something she was now used to. Her face cracked into a crooked grin, and she clapped her hands together in a display of satisfaction. Both of the enlisted looked at her blankly. “Very good. Very good. You see, crewman? Not it, but he, and so chivalrous as well.” She turned to the Benzite, bowing low at the waist as she’d been taught by her hand-to-hand instructors in her youth. “I apologize for my disrespect, crewman. I meant it, but I apologize all the same.”

Quorrok said nothing, but pinched her thumbs together on her free hand in the Benzite gesture of acceptance almost unconsciously, still looking at Doc’s back. He hadn’t relaxed. Next, Denna turned and bowed to it; No, to him. “And to you, Doc, I apologize for getting between you and your crewman on what was clearly a personal, or at least a personnel issue. I was out of place in getting between you and your business.”

At the end of her apology, Doc finally relaxed, pulling his legs up to a straight-backed stance, and bowing equal to the Luna colony officer’s. “Thank you, LC. I will accept your punishment as you see fit.”

It was informal, but respectful; LC wasn’t usually an acceptable abbreviation among officers, but it tended to fly between them and the enlisted in certain circumstances. Denna found she liked it, and few enough people deigned to use it. She expected that Doc and Quorrok would have enough to talk about without more of her interference, so she adjusted her posture to relax. “Nah. I think we’ve all had enough for one day, don’t you SCPO?” she refreshed her crooked grin, rubbing her hand across her chest delicately. “Besides I don’t know how a write up for assaulting a superior officer would help anyone today. Although, with our captain, you never actually know.”

Doc had the courtesy to look embarrassed, and Quorrok stepped closer, nervously. “I, ah, want to know more about how you did that actually. I didn’t know that was something you could do.” Doc turned around and regarded them with a scrutinizing glance, waiting. “Ah. Sir. If it pleases you.”

He nodded curtly. “I am sure I can find some time to explain the fundamentals to you crewman. At some point.” He allowed, crossing his arms. “Pending I can get anywhere near you to do so.”

Denna appeared between them with an exaggerated smile, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and steering toward the forward station Quorrok had been coming from. “Excellent idea! Great plan. But before that,” she squeezed Doc’s shoulder more firmly, “put something in your drawdown code so that whenever you do whatever it is you keep doing to spike power use in the emitters registers as intentional on Ironside’s dashboard, hey? I don’t wanna get called out for stupid jobs because you don’t sign your work.”

Doc nodded, and she turned her attention to Quorrok, who was clipping the arch back onto her breathing reservoir by its magnetic clips. “And you had better pull each and every one of these cheeky little buggers off the emitters, because if I find a single other one anywhere on this ship, I’ll see you drummed out so hard they’ll think it was a warband chasing you, am I understood crewman?”

Quorrok snapped to attention, eyes wide, and saluted. “SIR! Yes sir! I’ll start right away!”

“GREAT! Now shove off, I have work to do.” She barked, pushing the pair down the hallway. When they had taken their lantern far enough up the corridor to leave a gap between them, she put her hand back to her chest, rubbing it gingerly. At least she didn’t have to keep tracking down the bug, but now she stepped sorely into the space between the struts supporting the warp core to get across to the starboard corridor, and limped out into the hallway. It would be an annoying walk to sick bay on fractured heels, but again nothing she hadn’t done before. She hoped to see more of those two, and expected that they might live up to her expectations now that petty rivalry had been settled.

As the door hushed shut behind her, the engineering cabin faded another section into deep, sleepy darkness, lulled by the steady thrum of its heart, which beat slowly to bend the space between stars.

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perfectlyunlikelyfart · 2 months ago

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The Car Repair Shop in Dubai You Can Rely On

With its high-speed highways, luxury automobiles, and blistering temperatures, Dubai is not known for being pedestrian-friendly. Be it your sedan, SUV, or a high-performance sports car, keeping your vehicle in tiptop shape is crucial to ensure smooth and safe driving. Marshal Auto Care offers you the best car service in Dubai so you can rely on your car to stay in top shape and be on the road. With the latest equipment and industry professionals, we rank among the most reliable names in car repair shops in Dubai.

The Significance of Kit Maintenance in Dubai

The blistering heat, hours of congested traffic, and aggressive driving style in Dubai can be harsh on your car. Regular maintenance and prompt repairs are crucial for these reasons:

• Detects Potential Issues: Regular check-ups detect small problems before they become expensive repairs.

• Helps Improve Safety: Regular car maintenance minimizes the chance of an accident caused by brake failure, a flat tyre, or engine breakdown.

• Enhances Fuel Economy: Maintenance services like engine tuning, oil change, and wheel adjustment lower the gas mileage of the vehicle.

• Helps Your Vehicle To Live Longer: Regular service will help your car to be in top shape for years.

Foregoing important vehicle maintenance may seem like a good way to save money in the short run, but it can cost dearly in the long run via breakdowns and poor vehicle performance.

Comprehensive car repair and services

We provide a wide variety of services at Marshal Auto Care that can keep your car in perfect condition. From an oil change to an engine rebuild, we have the mechanic for you.

1. General Car Service in Dubai

Regular servicing of your car keeps it running smoothly. Our general servicing comprises:

• Oil and filter change

• Top up all fluids

• Cleaning of the air filter and cabin filter

• Brake adjustment and inspection

• Tire pressure & rotation check

2. Engine Diagnostics and Repair

To put it simply, the engine is your car's heart. We can identify any potential engine problems with our state-of-the-art diagnostic equipment. We offer:

• Engine health checks

• Spark plug replacement

• Timing belt

• Fuel injector cleaning

3. Brake Repair and Maintenance

The brakes are one of the most important parts of your vehicle. Our brake services include:

• Brake pad replacement

• Disc and drum inspection

• ABS check

4. Transmission Services and Repair

If the transmission of your car does not work so very well, you might find it very difficult to drive. We provide:

• Transmission fluid change

• Repairs and replacement for clutches

• Gearbox repair

5. Reparación de Suspensiones y Dirección

This helps to prevent bumpy rides caused by low suspension system parts. Our services include:

• Shock absorber replacement

• Steering rack and pinion repair

• Tire alignment and balance

6. Car Air Conditioning Service

Dubai has a hot climate, and air conditioning is a must. We offer:

• AC gas refill

• Compressor repair

• Replace cabin air filter

7. Battery and electrical problems can leave you stranded. We provide:

• Battery health inspection and replacement

• Alternator and starter motor

• Wiring and fuse assessment

8. Complete tyre swap, including alignment and balancing

As with every aspect of the vehicle, having the correct type of tyres fitted, as well as optimal alignment, helps with handling and fuel consumption efficiency. Our specialists provide:

• Rebalancing and rotation of tyres

• Realignment of wheels

• Fitting of new tyres

Why Delegate to Marshal Auto Care?

In principle, any car repair and service workshops in Dubai will tend to make claim ranges. Marshal Auto Care needed to stand out for some reasons:

1. Highly specialized technicians

These are all well-trained and certified professionals and mechanics whose experience cuts across every known model and make of car.

2. Sophisticated diagnostic tools

We have invested in modern technology because we want to guarantee accurate car issue diagnosis and top-notch service delivery.

3. Competitive but honest pricing

Our policy has always been to set prices. What you see is what you get. There are no hidden charges.

4. Service efficiency

People's time is precious—and we operate on this basis in terms of getting your vehicle back on the roads.

5. Customer-focused service

The auto care aims to not only provide the best service but also ensure high-quality repairs and guarantee customer satisfaction after each visit.

Conclusion

Transporting your vehicle to and from places is not as easy as it seems; it requires a lot of investment of time and money on your behalf. We help you maintain your automobile through our regular servicing, tuning, and repair options, which not only save you time but also ensure that your automobile lasts in the long run. Marshall Auto Care has a skilled automotive team whose focus is to service your car to the highest standards in Dubai. You can rest assured that your vehicle will always be ready to hit the road.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

1. How often should I service my car in Dubai?

We recommend servicing your vehicle every 5,000 to 10,000 kilometres or at least once every half year, depending on what the manufacturer dictates.

2. What is included in a basic car service?

A basic car service should include an oil change, checking the brakes, battery testing, and a top-up of other fluids, as well as an inspection of the tires.

3. How can I tell if my car battery needs to be changed?

If your car has difficulty starting, the battery warning symbol is illuminated, and the headlights are faint, it may be your time to get a new battery.

4. Are emergency car repair services available?

Yes, we provide emergency car repair services in Dubai. For urgent repairs, reach out to us, and we will get to you as soon as possible.

#car service center #automobile body parts

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hexesims · 3 years ago

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Librarian Career

So you like books eh? Maybe an aspiring writer and want inspiration from the classics? Well here at Llama Land Library we have all you need for book lovers to get their fix and earn money to fill their own shelves.

(When doing research for this career I found that library's don't have that many job levels so I have made the promotion requirements higher due to that.)

Level 1 - Pages

The Pages job is a simple one. Check to make sure all books are in their correct place, put back any returned books and help visitors find any books they might need.

Level 2 - Library Assistant

The power to issue library cards is now in your hands, it’s not all fun and games though as you also have to answer phone queries and check every book in and out.

Level 3 - Librarian

A Librarian's job is to maintain the libraries book collections and calling publishing houses to acquire new ones our visitors can enjoy.

Level 4 - Library Manager

It’s the manager's job to make sure the library is running smoothly. Checking the place has been cleaned, calling maintenance for that light that won’t come on, it’s all on you now.

Level 5 - Library Director

You worked your way through the ranks and now you get to hire them. There are also a couple of things about public relations and making sure the building is safe but hey, look at that pay check!

Patreon (Free)

SimFileShare (No Ads)

THIS CAREER INCLUDES NO SCRIPT FILE SO XML INJECTOR IS NEEDED OR IT WILL NOT WORK, IF YOU DON’T ALREADY HAVE IT THERE ARE DOWNLOAD INSTRUCTIONS ON THE PAGE.

Thanks for the Download =)

#sims 4 cc #sims4 #sims4cc #sims4ccfinds #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4cc #the sims 4 cc #the sims 4 career #ts4career #thesims4 #ts4 careers #sims 4 careers #gameplay #download #mod #mods #npcseries #npc series

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fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper · 4 years ago

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SU AU: Gem Survivors' Introductions - Indicolite Quartz

Link to AU Explanation

BACKGROUND:

-Indicolite Quartz is an Era One gem. Indicolite Quartz are made from Blue Diamond, but they’re a bit of an odd gem caste. They didn’t form from a regular quartz vein when they were being created. Unbeknownst when the injector was placed in the ground to create Indicolites the vein had an anomaly, and because of this unexpected outcome there was some debate between the Diamonds about what to do with them. After a jeer from Yellow about adding them to a court, Blue decided to add several to some of her courts, swayed by their uniqueness, much to Yellow’s dismay. They have a higher standing than regular quartz soldiers, because of Blue’s decision, but not by much. Instead of doing grunt work, they’re given tasks as personal guards and escort guides.

-Indicolites can summon their own weapons and fight to defend their assigned gem or put down an unruly gem, but they’re not as strong as the many other varieties of quartz soldiers. They’re smaller in stature, they lack brute strength, and aren’t as durable as other gems when opposed against someone bigger and more adequate for fighting. Thus they’re mostly left on Homeworld to tend to other tasks… unless their assigned gem is requested on another planet or needed in another colony for the purpose on Homeworld.

-If they were to be ranked in fighting strength they could be comparable to Rubies. Depending on how many Rubies are involved in the fusion or try to attack an Indicolite Quartz head on, an Indicolite can dispose of individual Rubies easier than a fusion, because the combined strength eventually overwhelms them unless they can be analytical about the situation and know when to go in for the strike.

OUR INDICOLITE QUARTZ:

Species: Gem

Gem Type: Tourmaline + Quartz mix

Alignment: Blue Diamond/Renegade for a couple hundred years/Crystal Gems for a bit/Independent from Homeworld and Crystal Gems

Hair color: Dark Blue

Clothing: Homeworld- Standard soldier uniform but the shirt has a little more flare

During renegade phase- Same as regular uniform but the shirt no longer has diamonds

During time with Crystal Gems- Under consideration

After leaving Crystal Gems- Under consideration

When she fuses with Kunzite: Smithsonite

Favorable quote: How far have you even thought this out? What are you going to do, where are you going to go?! How are you going to protect yourself? You can’t even summon a weapon, so how are you going to fight with the rebels, if they even accept you? Can you, please, think something out before acting sporadically just once in your existence?

#steven universe #gemsona #su au #the crystal gems #blue diamond #su au: gem survivors #Indicolite Quartz

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geminineart · 5 years ago

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Tourmaline design Adopts! 💖

I'm offering each of these girls (Original .png + a little doodle + some info about them) for USD $20. DM me if you're interested!

I can also design an original Tourmaline of your own for $40, if you prefer! 😉💖

I originally created these while playing with the concept of Tourmalines in my own Steven Universe canon (The one which my gemsona Rubellite belongs to) and this is what I came up with!

Perfect Cut (first image):

Tourmalines are a middle-class kind of gems, related to the arts. The type of art they work with is determined by their gem color, and each of them also have unique abilities related to them, being telekinesis their only shared trait. During the ages of the great Gem Empire, their abilities were always put at the service of higher-ranking gems, often (if not always) minimizing their own vision and expression (as ironic as it might sound for art-related creatures!).

Rubellite (OPEN): Rubellites work on any kind of visual arts. Their job is to portray the ideas of their superiors on paper (screen?) so other people can visualize them: They drew scenes of the great rebellion, made the huge murals of the diamonds on the walls of the temples, and decorated all kinds of places and objects at homeworld and any gem colonies. Special Ability: They leak pigment from their fingers and can control it at will.

Dravite (@me): Dravites perform dances and pantomime to entertain their masters. They must follow strict coreographies and do every step with calculated perfection: The most gracefully they do the specific routine they've been asked to do, the better. Special Ability: They can strecth and bend any part of their bodies with absolute freedom.

Verdelite (OPEN): Verdelites work with words, both written and spoken: They record important events for posterity, and tell stories from their ancestors. They keep history alive! however, most of the time they work with other people's words. Special Ability: Omnilingualism: They can understand an speak any kind of language

Indicolite (@fyreglyphsart): Indicolites are related to sound arts: They play instruments, sing, and create all kinds of moods through sound effects for their owners. May it be for a ball, for a relaxing night at home, to set the mood for a storyteller, or even making the drums and tumpets of war sound all over the battle field! Special Ability: They have powerful voices which can reach humanly-impossible pitches, being able to break glass and some kinds of crystals.

Siberite (Jolttenks): Siberites design all kind of great structures all over the gem empire, so other gems (such as bismuths) can build them. They designed all the buildings from homeworld and its colonies, the injectors used to create new gems, and even their space ships to travel all over the universe. every creation with a purpose. Special Ability: They can create holograms and modify them at will

Schorl (CLOSED): Schorls emphasize in sculpting, creating statues for their beloved leaders, carving figures and devices for their temples, and creating all kind of three dimensional art following their master's wishes and requests. Special Ability: They can leak some kind of glue from their hands, which can permanently attach any kind of materials to each other

Achroite (OPEN): Achroites are basically image consultants / personal stylists. They work closely with Pearls to the service of high-ranking gems to keep their image always at their best. This means not only advicing them on their posture, presentation and even gem polishing, but also creating clothes and accessories to enhance their status. They also used to be in charge of helping off-colors look closer to ''what they should have been''. Special Ability: They can create infinite threads

Off-Colors (second pic):

In my canon, off-color Tourmalines are not only literally off-color, but also have varied bodytypes and SOME kind of personality/skill ''defect'' that distances them from their intended purpose. So... here's a little example batch! Unlike the perfect cut versions, all of these tourmalines are all about personal expression through their art!

Violet (NutriStel) is an off-color Siberite who's not interested in creating new structures herself, but only studying the work of the great masters of the past from different civilizations all over the universe! ♥

Rose (OPEN) is a cute little Rubellite (pretty similar to MY Rubellite, actually...!) who likes to relax by drawing curves and dots, to decorate anything she can get her hands on! Not people, not scenes, not even objects: only cute, flowery, half-abstract ornaments!

Peach (Jolttenks) is another kind of Rubellite with a tendency to use her own body when creating her art! She specially likes splashing balls of paint on huge canvases to create abstract, colorful shapes!

Canary (_toon_melody_) is a very flashy type of Dravite, who can't follow choreographies to save her life! She only does what her body tells her to when there's music around, performing freestyle dances only!

Tsilaisite (Music54) is a mute Verdelite who expresses herself throught sign and body languages. And dancing is one of her favorite methods of expression!

Uvite (emeraldragonVGC) is a very very smol verdelite who hates ''boring facts'' and is 100% into self-improvement! She's a best-selling writter who create inspiring books for those who need a little bit of guidance and positivism!

Paraiba (@leesigalaxy) is an indicolite who can literally only speak in rhymes. She's pretty sweet and elegant, yet her way of speaking may make other people not take her seriously, even when singing.

Gray (Jolttenks) is either a Schorl or an Achroite. Nobody is really sure, not even her. But whatever she is, she's a concept artist! Her favorite hobby is collecting all kinds of trash and making meep morphs--i mean... art with them!

Which one of these is your favorite??? 😍😍

#gemsona #Steven Universe #Tourmalines #Gems #Adopts #Adoptables #Fullbody #Cartoon style #Flat colors #Fandom

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apksure · 2 years ago

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I MOBA Bangmamet APK

I MOBA Bangmamet APK is an Android APK specifically designed for mild lovers of MLBB. If you are a gamer of MLBB, then today you will be surprised about the working and offering features of the latest version of this APP. This Injector tool is the latest and most updated one compared to other Injectors.

Similarly, it offers ML Skins for the Heroes and other helping features free of cost. Yeah, you don’t need to pay a single penny to anyone to activate the beautiful features to increase your powers and abilities.

#MLBB Mods #MLBB Injectors

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maxismatchccworld · 5 years ago

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Incognito Spell

Created for: The Sims 4 by kutto

Designed with and working with game version 1.59.73.1020

This mod adds a new "Incognito" spell that allows Spellcasters to equip a magical disguise. Play pranks on your friends (or enemies) without any hard feelings. Engage in a steamy affair without your Sim's significant other finding out. The possibilities are endless when there aren't any consequences!

This spell belongs to the Mischief school of magic and can be learned in all the usual ways. Spellcasters need to be at least rank 3 (Adept) in order to learn it.

This mod requires the Spellbook Injector mod by r3m in order to show up in game.

Outcomes

Standard Success - Your Sim gains the "Magical Mask" +1 Playful moodlet for 3 hours. While this moodlet is active, none of their relationships can change, positive or negative, and they will not cause jealousy while cheating. If you have the Get Famous expansion pack installed, their fame will not increase and their reputation will not change. Additionally, it doubles as a celebrity disguise. If you have the Discover University expansion pack installed, they will wear a cosmic mask.

Charged Success - Same as above but the moodlet will last for 6 hours.

Remove Disguise - Dispels the effect of the spell early. This action can't fail and generates no Spellcaster Charge.

Failure - Your Sim gains the "Sticking Out" +3 Embarrassed moodlet for 3 hours. While this moodlet is active, your Sim will look like a clown. This effect cannot be dispelled early, and a new disguise cannot be applied until it expires.

Known Issues

Relationship and reputation headlines may still appear above Sims' heads, but no change is actually occurring.

Sims who catch their disguised SO cheating will sometimes lose relationship with the third party but will not understand why (no negative moodlets or jealous reactions).

Download: http://modthesims.info/d/637021/incognito-spell.html

Get featured: https://maxismatchccworld.tumblr.com/

#s4cc #s4mm #ts4cc #ts4mm #maxis match #thesims4 #s4 mod #s4 mods #s4 tuning mod #s4 witch #kutto

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ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

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CAPTURED BY THE CLANS : Part 9 of 10 : Science Fiction

Return to Science Fiction

Return to the Master Story Index

CAPTURED BY THE CLANS

Part 9 of 10

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

18231 words

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. Part 1 is HERE.

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Lezon turned her attention from T’cass alone to include the others. She told them all, “I was given the task of finding possible ships for your consideration. This morning, I used your comm unit to conduct a rough search. I stored the results in the file, SHIPS. The results are tiered by price in Clan Credit. I am not sure of your resources or I could have done better.”

K’ress and M’rel both thanked Lezon for her work. They had already learned that T’cass expected Lezon to be treated like a member of the clan, not a slave. They were truly amused that Lezon had already found the kitchen and set out serving cages with snacks to start their day.

They spent the morning looking over Lezon’s research list. Even with the end of a war, it was depressingly small. Less than a hundred appeared to be usable choices. One was a true antique.

Lezon pointed to the antique. “It is cheap and the information claims that it is flyable. Even with the cost of a refit, it will come to less than any of the others. Also, I can get you a discount on the refit.”

Now all three of the others gazed at Lezon as if her fur were falling out in patches. T’cass pointed out, “No shipyard on the planet will even touch anything over a hundred years old. Do you have any idea just how old that thing is?”

Lezon nodded, “If I remember my class information from the war correctly, that ship was made about one hundred and seventy-five to one hundred and fifty-six years ago. If it really is flyable, that’s why we want it.”

M’rel looked at K’ress and remarked, “Perhaps you were right about that psychiatric evaluation.”

T’cass asked, “How can you get a refit if no yard on the planet will do it?”

Lezon pointed out with a smile, “I know the Feront. It has two ring fusion city ships here for Treaty Commission scrap work. It has already agreed to do a scrap based refit of this ship, the D’ancer. We pay for parts at scrap price and it will give me the labor.”

Skeptically, M’rel asked, “Why would it forgo the profit? Friendship?”

“Partly,” Lezon grinned, “and partly sense of humor.”

All three gazed at Lezon as if they were trying to see inside her skull and figure out what was there. It was an interesting effort. T’cass spoke up first, saying, “I know the Feront too, and I never realized that it had a sense of humor.”

Lezon grinned hugely. “It most definitely does. Remember when it presented itself to be made a member of the Treaty Commission? All those gaudy uniforms and titles? They mean nothing to the Feront. One of its organic units is the same as any other to it. It was laughing at our rank system, which it still thinks is hilarious.

“That sense of humor worked to our advantage this morning. While I was on the comm to the Feront, a bureaucrat from the Planetary Resources Committee interrupted our call with a priority override. The Feront took her call and we switched to one of the twelve empty channels. The Resources Committee changed their call frequency to kick me off again. She told the Feront that no slave had anything to say that should distract its attention from the needs of the Planetary Government.

“When we could talk again, the Feront told me that the ‘needs of the Planetary Government’ were now firmly placed on its priority list. Just below mine.”

T’cass suddenly grinned wide herself and exclaimed, “Well managed Conflict! That is beautiful! Now, explain to me why we want a ship that dates to the earliest days of Inertial Drives. The spec sheet says that it can generate less than one standard G of acceleration. That is why that old hulk needs a reaction drive with a huge tank of liquid mass just to get off the ground. The interstellar fusion ramjet igniter is disassembled and less than half the ship’s volume is habitable. The power capsule can barely hold enough energy to get us to a close star, let alone the long range trading that we are planning.”

Lezon heard T’cass out, nodding agreement at every point. When T’cass ran down, she added, “Actually it can’t get out of the system, yet. It only has liftoff and in-system flight certificates. What makes it valuable is that it was built to lift off routinely at six G’s of uncompensated acceleration. It has a nine G red line which includes lateral maneuvers in an atmosphere as well. Only a System Siege Cruiser or a Battleship can take as much.

“Besides, because it’s such an antique, it’s dirt cheap. You should get out of the refit to Clan Family Class B Freight with a total cost of Clan Cr 250,000.”

Three heads turned to each other, eyes narrow in calculation. K’ress started to ask, “Where is all that cargo space coming from?” She suddenly got it and answered her own question, “The reaction mass tank, of course! It’s huge!”

The others began to nod in understanding. “We could at least go and look at it,” they agreed.

On the scrap field, they stood and looked up. The D’ancer still stood solidly on her landing jacks. The personnel port near her tail was gaping open. Lezon left the group and began to critically examine the seals on the port. K’ress joined her followed by T’cass.

The salesperson began to show nervousness and smiled ingratiatingly saying, “Really, now that you’ve looked at this thing, I have several good ships that have current certificates. They will pay themselves off in only a few years!”

Dryly, M’rel responded, “We saw. Clan Family Class J Freight. Way overpriced in this market, too.” She then called over to them, “What do you think, Guys? Will it make a good amusement park ride?”

The salesperson nearly choked. “You mean to actually fly this thing? With customers?”

M’rel looked brightly at her and said innocently, “Why your advertisement, dated only two months back, says that it comes with liftoff and In-System Flight Certificates. With only a little refurbishing of the interior it should make an exciting ride for the kits! Lots of noise, clouds of steam and an uncompensated three G blastoff to two hundred thousand feet! I can’t imagine a more exciting ride! Can you?” She batted her eyelashes at the salesperson, who was suddenly looking sick.

K’ress poked her head out the port and gestured to the salesperson, “Come in here, please!” she demanded. Inside, they all climbed the ladder over a hundred feet up to the engine control bay.

The power capsule lay heavy in its cradle. The big superconducting cables were laying like snakes across the floor, out of their clips and racks. The case of the Inertial Drive Control Computer was open and cables with empty connectors hung out. Several boards were clearly missing. Lezon was busily sorting the boards and components of the ramjet fusion ignitor.

“Madams,” she said deferentially to T’cass and the others, “the advertisement claims that the fusion igniter is complete but disassembled. This is not true. The entire ignition injector and initiator are missing. There are at least three control boards missing as well.” Without waiting, she swung agilely up the ladder to the control room.

T’cass, M’rel, and K’ress saw Lezon’s tiny ‘thumbs up’ signal as she reported, “Madams, this vessel was misrepresented. They have claimed In-System and Liftoff certificates. The entire navigational computer, the detection system and the life support control panel have been removed.”

K’ress turned to the salesperson and addressed her almost compassionately. “Yanking that stuff proves that this bird was headed for scrap. At scrap she’s not worth Cr 45,000. We’ll do you a favor. We’ll take her for Cr 60,000 but you have to earn that fifteen.

“We supervise all the work. Run us some tests. Charge the power capsule to ninety gigawatts. Run chill and superconductivity testing on all the cables. Replace the nav computers and detection system with anything that works well enough for orbital hopping. Put in any Inertial Drive Controller and program it for a .75 G max push. Run the Inertial Drive at .75 G for one hour. Replace the lock seals and pressure test the hull.”

The salesperson saw profit fleeing out the exhaust and started to retort, “Cr 100,000! That’s saving you ten grand! Strictly an as is sale at that price. You want certificates, they’re extra. Cough up!” Her eye caught T’cass inputting a connection on her comm. She had selected for a vision and speaker connection.

Several reptilian heads appeared in the vision field. Two homed on Lezon and one on T’cass. The others were looking about at what they could see of the control room. They all spoke at once in the typically polyphonic voice of the Feront, “Friends! T’cass, I have not seen you since your battle input at M’onafar! Most clever. I have made many notes in the Treaty Commission Archive about that battle.

“I was informed by servant Lezon that you will be buying a ship soon. Is this it? Shall I send inspection for T.C. certificates?”

Pleased, T’cass responded, “It is good to see you again, friend Feront. Yes, this is the vessel. It is advertised with certificates. The advertisement was forwarded to you under a T.C. seal already.” The saleswoman made a choking noise.

The scanning heads of the various units of the Feront scrutinized the cabin through the comm field and it responded, “This vessel is presently in violation of its advertised certification. The fine will be Cr 250,000 if it is presented in this condition. I hope that the missing equipment is merely out for repair or replacement.”

Desperately, the salesperson said, “Of course! We are still negotiating on details. There may be a down grade of certification, for a reduced price, of course!”

Several of the Feront had wandered out of the transmission field and others had wandered in but it spoke seamlessly, “This is reasonable. How much time is needed for flight certificate issuance?”

Glaring at T’cass, the salesperson said, “About a month. The vessel is an old one and we need to sure that equipment interfaces are safe.”

The polyphonic voice said, “I will see you in a month’s time, then, unless you call sooner, friends T’cass and servant Lezon.” The field went snowy blank and faded.

T’cass folded her comm smiling. To the salesperson she said, “The way I see it, giving us this ship with the repairs I stated would save you about Cr 190,000. Still, you have an investment to recoup and some profit to make. Cr 65,000?”

The salesperson avoided T’cass’ hand as she stalked for the ladder muttering, “We have to go to the office for the paperwork.”

It is hard to sulk while climbing down over a hundred feet of ladder but the salesperson managed it. With ill grace she waited for them to board her flitter for the run to the office. She tried to shut out Lezon but T’cass simply blocked the flitter door open with her body until Lezon was securely aboard.

In only three weeks the D’ancer was ready for her first liftoff in over sixty years. The Feront sent four of itself down to conduct the Treaty Commission inspection. It scattered throughout the ship, testing equipment in skilled claws. After a short time, one of it closed the ports.

“Pressure test,” observed K’ress calmly. Turning to the salesperson, she said, “Your people did a first rate job. Second hand parts but all serviceable. Clean mating of new gear and old, too.”

Resigned to the situation, the sales person replied, “Thanks. It was a dirty trick, getting that thing volunteer to do the inspection right off the bat, that way. It takes us from two weeks to three months to get the T.C. off their butts and over here. How come it’s so prompt for you?”

K’ress jerked a thumb at T’cass and Lezon. “Them. They both know the Feront and call it just to make small talk. I gather that they are among the few friends that it has. It was no coincidence that the Feront sent two fusion ring city ships to this system. It wanted to talk. Godesses! How they talk! Hours at a time!”

The hatches opened and all four of the Feront hopped out and swarmed down the crew ladder. Some of it facing M’rel and K’ress, some the salesperson, the Feront pronounced polyphonically, “The vessel, D’ancer, now has certificates installed for assisted reaction drive launch and high orbit work near to inhabited spheres.”

All four of its units turning as one, it descended on T’cass and Lezon like a pile of happy kits. “May I play with your entities again? I have thought of a possible strategy that may put you to a disadvantage!”

The sales person unbelievingly saw the slave that she’d snubbed so meanly at first meeting, leap to the back of one of the Feront creatures. She was calling, “T’cass, can we? It will only delay launch by a few hours!” Wheedlingly she added, “It will help our goodwill with the Feront. That could pay us well.”

M’rel ran it down like an accountant. “We have pad space paid here for two more days. The house lease isn’t up for four more days. A few hours? Go play, you kits! Just be here in six hours to lift this clunker into orbit for the rest of its refit.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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#CAPTURED BY THE CLANS #Part 9 of 10 #Science Fiction #Written by De Writer

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adios-gatos · 5 years ago

Photo

so. originally this was just meant to be lil doodles for myself of what rubellite’s coworkers would look like but i ended up getting too attached and coloring this so Here They Are

click for better quality + more about them under the cut

rubellite and her coworkers are all tourmalines, high-ranked scientist gems that because of their abilities are often used to check over options chosen for kindergartens locations and kindergarten management.

since the different abilities tourmalines have tend to be specific to the different colors, they often have to visit colonies and places owned by other diamonds and usually wear 4 diamonds instead of one out of respect. their aesthetics are supposed to be varying mixes of scientist and runway fashion-

VERDELITE - has the ability to instinctively know the makeup about the flora and fauna of planets at first glance, useful for determining the most efficient spots to get the most out of the resources available. can also help sustain living things so long as there’s still life present - v outright egotistical about her ranking and the trust given to her by the diamonds. even if it lowkey gets on their nerves, it’s tolerated because she Genuinely is good at her job and thinking outside the box in a way that benefits homeworld - besides her ego, shes a good person to go to for advice and patient with other gems. tends to be v caring about the gems she helped make though it sometimes gets in the way of her job

SCHORL - has the ability to detect faults in the land and their potential effects, including radiation. all tourmalines have the ability to generate electricity but schorls are notable for being able to create orbs of electricity that can be used as power sources - objective and to the point both during work and outside of it, which is lowkey off-putting to other tourmalines who tend to be v friendly and passionate gems. schorl Is passionate about her work, shes just also a believer that wasting no time is more beneficial for everyone - lowkey does struggle with her emotions and even with her seemingly apathetic nature, shes actually a decent gem to turn to to help soothe panicked gems

PINK TOURMALINE - has the ability to be v in tune with and soothe other gems’ emotions that lets her mentally assess and educate new gems, as well as the ability to levitate things that’s often used to help assemble and transport injectors - May Or May Not have an inferiority complex since her ability means shes taken less seriously as a scientist compared to other tourmalines and feels like shes seen more as an emotional nanny then an actual researcher and scientist - even with her insecurity, shes a v passionate and lively gem with a contagious energy that she uses to try to help keep up others spirits since if you have to work somewhere, might as well try to make it enjoyable INDICOLITE - has the ability to look at a gem and determine physical weaknesses to help pin down potential defects. it isnt used as often but indicolites can also evaporate water during potential floodings of kingergartens - indicolite’s v prideful about the diamond that she was made for, more so then other gems tend to be. the modified diamond insignia she adopted post era 1 is lowkey disrespectful since she didnt cover up the right diamond but she just doesnt really care about the other diamonds enough to fix it - other then her diamond pride, indicolite is usually a graceful, serene kind of gem whos charismatic around others. shes usually honest but isnt above lying by omission

#su #suf #steven universe future #steven universe #gemsona #su oc #lowkey not v satisfied with verdelites colors and kind of indis #but also #2020 is the year of not being a perfectionist #3-7-2020 #gemsonas

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cabalrive · 5 years ago

Text

Varosh’ati’ruon: Backstory

The halls of the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera were brightly lit, the harsh white lights embedded in the walls gleaming off the polished black floors. Varosh’ati’roun, otherwise known as Shatir, walked at a brisk pace, jackbooted feet moving lightly across the deck as he left the hanger bay where his shuttle was docked. His brilliant white uniform jacket was a stark contrast to his blue skin and mildly tousled black hair, which was only mostly contained by his black cap. He had plenty of time. In fact, he’d likely be waiting around for a while when he arrived but much safer to be early. Reflecting on this, he almost barreled into the figure stepping out from an adjoining hallway.

“Excuse me,” Shatir said, barely glancing back.

“One might consider that gross insubordination, Lieutenant” intoned a voice behind him. Shatir stopped dead in his tracks and whipped around.

“Taeg’edor’enokai?” Shatir exclaimed, staring at the black-clad individual. “What are you doing here?” Taeg’edor’enokai, usually going by Gedore, smiled. He wore the uniform of the Imperial Special Forces, his plaque declaring him a Captain.

“Is it so astounding to run into another Chiss here, of all places?”

“It is good to see you. Are you available later?” inquired Shatir “I’m afraid I have a meeting to get to at the moment.”

“Do you really? What a coincidence. So do I.”

“He wants to see both of us?”

“Apparently.”

“I don’t think there have been more than two of us together at any given time since we got off the ship from Csilla…” Shatir wondered aloud. Gedore broke in, speaking quietly in Cheunh.

“Maybe it’s time for us to overthrow our false leaders and once more rejoin our illustrious Ascendency.” Shatir glared at Gedore and replied in the same language.

“That’s hardly a joking matter. If it were anyone but me you would be reported and executed.”

“Luckily I am quite certain that it is, in point of fact, you to whom I made this particularly egregious jest.”

“Perhaps I won’t turn you in. This time.” Shatir shot back.

“My thanks” replied Gedore in Basic, briefly bowing his head to his oldest friend.

They strode off together, an imposing duo in the lightly trafficked corridors. The few personnel they did encounter quickly stood aside to let them pass, poorly hiding their efforts to stare at the two Chiss officers. Most had only ever seen the one, from a distance at that. Now there were three of them on one ship.

Six Chiss had arrived from Csilla as part of Grand Admiral Thrawn’s program to study the suitability of incorporating the Chiss in other branches of the Imperial Military. Each recruit had gone into different departments. Shatir was placed in Naval Intelligence, Gedore the Special Forces and the others in the Army, Department of Military Research, Imperial Intelligence, and ISB. The position in the Navy proper was, of course, already filled. They were fully immersed in Imperial culture, each working their way through the Academy, rarely seeing one another. They all suspected they were deliberately kept apart, but logically could not see fault in such a course of action. To both be summoned by the Grand Admiral was hitherto unheard of.

They arrived at the entrance to the Grand Admiral’s command suite. Shatir nodded and Gedore punched the call controls. A moment later the door slid silently open and they stepped through. Both had been independently summoned before and knew what to expect. The arrangements of sculptures and artwork, both real and holographic, claimed much of the space in the office. At the moment though the Grand Admiral was studying a datapad. Shatir and Gedore stood stiffly at attention, saying nothing.

“At ease, gentlemen.” Thrawn said, putting down the datapad and fixing his gaze upon them. “Congratulations on your promotion, Taeg’edor’enokai. Your commanding officer speaks highly of your skills.”

“Thank you, sir.” replied Gedore.

“And you, Varosh’ati’roun. It has been some time since you were last aboard. Your mission was a success?”

“Yes, sir. I have successfully traced the targets.”

“Excellent. Then you have your next destination.” Shatir and Gedore exchanged the briefest of glances. Thrawn continued. “Lieutenant Shatir has been tracing several Rebel sympathizers. The hope is to insinuate him into their company, and then, once contact with the Rebellion has been established, he will become a double-agent.

Your role in this, Gedore, is extraction. In the event that Shatir secures a valuable asset, or is captured, you will retrieve him. You may assemble a team if you so choose. I need not remind either of you that the level of duplicity required for such an assignment is extreme and I trust you will use the full breadth of your abilities to maintain cover. Gedore, until such time as your services are required you will be assigned as Special Forces Liaison to the Chimaera.

Shatir, you may brief him further with any information you believe to be relevant, and proceed with your preparations. Dismissed.” Shatir and Gedore saluted, turned smartly on their heels and left the Grand Admiral to his studies.

They did not speak again until they had reached an open conference room. Shatir shut the door, engaged his personal comm jammer and pulled up his files on the holo-display.

“Rebel activity on Kashyyyk is quite common,” began Shatir, gesturing to a log of decrypted comms records, “a predictable side effect of the Empire favouring the Wookies as slave labour. Therefore it is a good starting point to find a sympathetic group. There is a slave auction in three days, and based on the communications I intercepted and data from the garrison, there is likely to be a rescue attempt. I hope to assist with that attempt and go with the group to a Rebel base. After that I’ll be on my own.”

Gedore nodded, scanning the text.

“Do you require assistance on Kashyyyk?” he inquired.

“Perhaps you could run interference on the local stormtrooper garrison? I would prefer to reduce Imperial casualties without arousing suspicion.”

“Of course”

“That’s about it. I have the advantage that most people have never encountered a Chiss before. We are one of the only races in the Galaxy who are more known to the Empire than anyone else, but even then it’s mostly restricted to the Navy and the Intelligence branches.”

“You can always say you’re a Pantoran with an eye condition.” joked Gedore, smiling slightly at the old adage.

“Indeed.” Shatir replied, distracted. “I suppose I must leave immediately. At maximum speed it will take at least two days to get to Kashyyyk from here. I need to assemble my kit.”

“I will fly you there. It will be easier to distract the garrison from local orbit rather than blasting orders across the galaxy from a not particularly inconspicuous Star Destroyer. If Rebel activity is so common I should be able to send them off on a raid with relatively little information. Of course, my holo transmitter will be malfunctioning and audio only. Does Captain Kovars sound like a convincing pseudonym to you?”

“As good as any. Increased Imperial activity should mask my activities nicely.” mused Shatir, rolling the plan over in his mind. “I’m sure the garrison will be thrilled to have a mystery officer hijacking their operations.”

“What can I say, Special Forces are special.” Gedore smirked. “No authorization required.”

A few hours later they were aboard a requisitioned Lambda class T-4a shuttle, discussing the upcoming mission, stories from the academy, any missions they could share without breaching security clearances and their lives in general. Both enjoyed the chance to talk as friends rather than as professionals. While there was now mutual respect between many Imperials and their Chiss colleagues, friendship was a difficult thing to come by. The Chiss officers had the advantage of full exposure to Imperial and human culture, but there was no reciprocation whatsoever. The Grand Admiral didn’t count, of course. Both Human and Chiss alike held him in awe, and his rank held him above all

The two day hyperspace flight went by in a flash, the two comrades finding themselves saying farewell once more. Shatir had changed out of his uniform into civilian clothing appropriate to the weather. He rolled his sleeves up in anticipation of the muggy jungle climate, and shrugged on a vest over the shoulder-holsters for his vibroknives.

“I have two gifts for you, before you leave. The first I had originally planned to leave on the Chimaera for you, but events have made this much more convenient.” Gedore pulled a chrono out of his pocket and presented it to Shatir.

“My thanks, Gedore. Had I but known I would be seeing you…” he trailed off, inspecting the chrono.

“Never mind that. It has one excellent feature, besides being waterproof up to 100m,” he reached over and grasped a tiny tab, pulling out a length of carbon nanofiber wire. “May your enemies never see you coming.”

“Charming, and incredibly useful. I thank you.” Shatir said, inclining his head graciously, and proceeding to fasten the chrono to his wrist.

“Anything for my oldest, most duplicitous friend,” grinned Gedore, slapping his shoulder. “The second gift, I fear you will enjoy less.” he said, grabbing Shatir’s forearm and stabbing an injector into his flesh. Gedore pushed the button with his thumb to activate it. Shatir hissed at the unexpected pain and looked quizzically at his friend, red eyes flashing.

“This implant has two uses,” explained Gedore. “First off, it carries your Imperial credentials. It is undetectable until activated. In the event you need to prove you are, in fact, a commissioned Imperial operative, tap your arm near the implant twice. It will read on most ident-chip scanners. You can deactivate it again the same way. The second use is as an SOS tracking chip. It will piggyback an SOS on any local Imperial channels directly to the Chimaera, and to me. To call for aid, break the shielding capsule by pressing down on it. It takes a bit of force as it is designed not to break under normal combat conditions. If you are successful you should feel it burn slightly as it draws power from your body’s natural electrical currents. Then you just have to wait for the cavalry to arrive.”

“Unless, of course, I am not near any Imperial outposts.” commented Shatir drily, massaging his arm.

“That is true, but the options for undetectable beacons are rather limited, I’m afraid.” Gedore said cheerfully. “Now away with you. I must return to orbit and practice my lounging skills so I fit in with you Navy types once I return to the Chimaera.”

“Could be worse, could be assigned to the ISB,” smirked Shatir, and, with a small Chiss salute, departed.

#shatir #gedore #thrawn #swrpg #star wars #chiss

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