#Sc Cable

[fibermarts]

SC Cable Has a Great Contribution in Good Connectivity

In the realm of contemporary technology, when uninterrupted connectivity is essential to every click, swipe, and tap, the backbone that underpins our digital infrastructure is sometimes invisible and undervalued. However, it is precisely this basis that enables us to interact, cooperate, and create at the speed of thinking. The SC cable is one of the unsung heroes of this digital revolution; it is an engineering wonder that silently keeps our networks stable and strong.

Although SC (Subscriber Connector) cables are not as well-known as USB or HDMI, their importance in the field of data transfer cannot be emphasized. Numerous networks rely on these fiber optic connections to send data quickly and efficiently across great distances with little loss or interference. Let's explore SC cables in more detail and find out why they are still relevant today.

Bandwidth and Speed: Every SC cable is built with the promise of unmatched bandwidth and speed. Fiber optic cables, such as SC, are made to use light as a means of data transmission. They can carry data at rates far faster than those of conventional copper cables. Gigabit Ethernet, Fibre Channel, and other high-speed protocols can be supported via SC cables, which are the foundation of networks when speed is crucial.

Reliability is a non-negotiable in this day and age, as any downtime may be disastrous for both individuals and enterprises. SC cables and LC cables are the preferred options for mission-critical applications because of their well-known robustness and ability to withstand external interference. SC cables preserve their integrity even when traveling over crowded metropolitan areas or the ocean floor, guaranteeing continuous communication when it counts most.

Versatility: The adaptability of SC cables is one of its distinguishing qualities. These cables are used in a wide range of sectors, including data centers, telecommunications, industrial automation, and healthcare. Their attractiveness is further increased by their compatibility with a wide range of networking standards and protocols, which enables a smooth integration into the current infrastructure.

SC cable undoubtedly influences our globally networked world, even if they may work in the background. These modest but strong cables are essential to the development of the digital world because they power the internet's backbone and allow for real-time communication across countries.

Next: How Fiber Trunk Cable and SC Attenuator Boost Network Performance?

[fibermartusa]

12 SC Cable

Global leading manufacturer and supplier offers SC/UPC to SC/UPC 12 fiber single mode (SM 9/125) patch cables. High quality, reliable fiber optic connections for your network.

[fibermart]

Control Signal Strength with SC Attenuators

The SC attenuator regulate optical signal power, preventing overload and ensuring optimal network performance. They are essential for fine-tuning signal levels in fiber optic systems. Fiber-MART provides precision-engineered SC attenuators for smooth and consistent data transmission.

[rfantennaindia]

Fiber Optic Adapter - SC Female to SC Female

A Fiber Optic Adapter (also known as a coupler or connector adapter) is a passive device used to connect two optical fibers with the same or compatible connectors. In this case, an SC Female to SC Female adapter would be designed to connect two SC-terminated fiber optic cables together.

Here's a breakdown of the components:

SC Connector: The SC (Subscriber Connector) is a common type of fiber optic connector with a square-shaped snap-in coupling mechanism. It is widely used in data communication and telecommunication networks. The connector has a push-pull design that ensures a secure connection.

Female Connector: The "Female" designation indicates that the connector has a socket or receptor to accept a male connector. In the case of an SC Female connector, it means that the adapter has an SC port with a socket to accept the male end of an SC-terminated fiber optic cable.

SC Female to SC Female Adapter: This adapter is designed to connect two SC-terminated fiber optic cables that have male SC connectors at their ends. Each side of the adapter has an SC Female port (socket) where the SC connectors from the cables can be inserted. This creates a continuous optical connection between the two cables, allowing light signals to pass from one fiber to another.

These adapters are useful in scenarios where you need to extend the length of a fiber optic cable or connect two cables with SC connectors that are too short to reach each other directly. Fiber optic adapters are commonly used in networking, data centers, telecommunications, and other applications where high-speed and reliable data transmission is crucial.

When choosing a fiber optic adapter, it's important to ensure compatibility between the connector types and the mode of the fiber (single-mode or multi-mode) being used. Additionally, make sure to handle and install fiber optic components with care to avoid damage to the delicate optical fibers and connectors.

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

Tiktok Influencer!Gojo Satoru—“She’s a 10 but…” [nxt]

@ sexygojosatoru has made a new post:

“she’s a 10 but…” challenge w/ my students :D (ft. nanamin) #fyp

00:03 =⬤--------------------------- 04:14 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

[The video opens with a hand pulling back from the camera to reveal Gojo in the frame. He’s lounging in a cream cable-knit sweater, his signature black circular glasses perched low on his nose. His sky-blue eyes gleam mischievously as he leans closer to the lens, a playful grin stretching across his face. His snowy hair, slightly tousled, flops over his forehead until he sweeps it back with a flick of his pale fingers.]

Gojo: (whispering) “Gojo here! So, today, I’m doing the ‘She’s a 10 but…’ challenge with my adorable students. I plan to stir the pot and, maybe, start a little drama. You know, the usual. Let’s go!”

[The camera cuts abruptly to Yuji’s dorm room. Yuji sits at his desk in front of his PC, wearing a baggy white tee and a chunky blue headset with cat ears. He swivels to face the camera, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. Nobara and Megumi’s voices chatter faintly in the background.]

Gojo: “Yuji, my sweet boy, ‘She’s a 10 but… she has a flat ass.’”

Yuji: “Sensei—wha—wait, what?”

[Cut to Yuji again, this time with his headset slung around his neck and his gamer chair spun fully toward the camera.]

Gojo: “—et it?”

Yuji: (grinning, earnest) “Got it! Hi, guys! If she’s a 10 and she’s got a small butt, she’s still a 10. Personality matters more!”

[He throws up an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Gojo groans exaggeratedly.]

Gojo: “Let’s try this again. ‘He’s a 10 but… he hates the Human Earthworm series’.”

[Yuji pauses, scratching his chin as he furrows his brows, clearly torn.]

Yuji: “Hmm… then he’s, like, an 8? I’d be lowkey hurt, but hey, people have different tastes, so I guess I can’t get too mad about it.”

Gojo: “Boooring! Yuji, you’re too pure. This is terrible content. NEXT!”

[The camera swings over to Nobara, who’s striking a pose with one hand on her hip. She’s wearing a plum long-sleeved shirt and flashes a peace sign with a sly grin.]

Gojo: “Nobara! Save me from Yuji’s snoozefest. ‘She’s a 10 but… she’s domineering.’”

Nobara: “Domineering? Like bossy? Assertive?”

Gojo: “Exactly! Dominatrix vibes—minus the leather and whips.”

[Nobara raises an eyebrow, her cheeks faintly pink.]

Nobara: “Still a 10. No shame in a strong woman.”

Gojo: “veery interesting. Okay, ‘He’s a 10 but he’s a hardcore tsundere.’”

[Nobara’s playful grin melts into a grimace.]

Nobara: “Ugh, no. That type of trope is so annoying. Just say you like me already and stop wasting my time. That’s a 4.”

[The camera zooms dramatically to Megumi, lounging on Yuji’s bed with his phone. He glances up, unimpressed, then back at the screen. Gojo lets out a snicker before turning the camera back to Nobara.]

Gojo: “‘He’s a 10 but he’s an eater.””

[Nobara’s face scrunches.]

Nobara: “Oh, Gojo, that's not—CUT!”

[The camera cuts back to Nobara, laughing uncontrollably.]

Gojo: “‘—uck. I meant, ‘He’s a 10 but he ingests questionable things—like he’ll put just about anything in his mouth.””

Nobara:“Wait—like, eats anything? Oh, ew! Yuji vibes. That’s a 1.”

Yuji: (off-screen) “HEY!”

Gojo: “In Yuji’s defense, he has a reason! It’s not like he’s on My Strange Addiction munching on soap.”

Nobara: (deadpan) “Sensei, that’s rich coming from someone whose best friend swallowed ba—”

[The camera cuts abruptly to Megumi, now glaring daggers at Gojo.]

Gojo: “MOVING ON! Say hi to the fans, Megumi. They keep asking if you’re single.”

Megumi: (dry) “Pay me for these features.”

Gojo: “There’s that tsundere charm! ‘She’s a 10 but she interrupts you constantly.’”

Megumi: (flatly) “4. Maybe a 6 if she knows when to stop.”

[The camera swings back to Nobara.]

Gojo (sing-song): “Nobara’s a 4~!”

[Nobara lunges at Gojo, snatching the camera to turn it on him.]

Nobara: ”‘He’s a 10 but he’s like 30 years old, lives off sweets, and takes mirror selfies daily.’”

Yuji: (off-screen) “DRAG HIM!”

Megumi: (smirking) “1.”

[Gojo gasps theatrically and grabs the camera back.]

Gojo: “Betrayed by my own students! No soba for dinner!”

Yuji and Nobara: (wailing) “NOOO!”

Megumi: (shrugging) “It’s not like I said 0, could’ve been worse Gojo-Sensei.”

[The camera sweeps across the room: Nobara stands with her fingers clasped in a dramatic pleading gesture, while Yuji has collapsed to his knees, wailing theatrically. Megumi stands nearby with arms crossed, raising an eyebrow as if to question everyone’s sanity. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, the faint creak of a door interrupts the chaos.]

Nanami: (off-screen) “What’s going on in here?”

[The camera turns to reveal Nanami standing in the doorway, tie slightly loosened.]

Gojo: (grinning ear to ear) “Perfect timing, Nanamin! We’re doing the ‘She’s a 10 but…’ challenge. Your turn!”

Nanami: (deadpan) “If I play along, will you stop asking me to hang out this weekend?”

Gojo: (mock serious) “Deal.”

[Text appears on-screen: “I lied LOL had my toes crossed XD”]

Gojo: (gleefully) “Alright, Nanamin, first question: ‘She’s a 10 but she corrects your grammar.’”

Nanami: (calmly) “A 10. Grammar is important.”

Gojo: “Ugh, buzzkill. Okay, ‘She’s a 10 but she won’t go down on you.’”

Nanami: (stone-faced) “Still a 10. Boundaries matter.”

[Gojo spins the camera toward himself, pouting dramatically.]

Gojo: (to the camera) “This video is flopping! Okay, last one, Grandpa: ‘He’s a 10 but he’s taller and stronger than you.’”

Nanami: (without hesitation) “Still a 10. I’m secure enough in myself to not feel threatened by someone else’s physical attributes.”

Gojo: (waving the camera back to himself) “You guys heard it here first! Nanamin’s totally into me.”

[He smirks, wiggling his eyebrows and delivering a cheesy wink at the lens.]

Gojo: (teasing) “I mean, who can resist my—”

[A collective groan erupts from the students off-screen. The camera shakes, suggesting a struggle, before cutting abruptly to black.]

04:14 =================⬤ 04:14 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader (Part 6)

<<< Part 5

Relationship : Fluff

Warning : ⚠️ Mention of blood, mild amnesia ⚠️

Recap : After inhaling the red smoke, you find yourself awake in Catnap's hidden room. For some reason, you don't remember what happened before you got here....

Yet again, you wake up from your slumber. You let out a groan and massage your temple.

Your head is throbbing and your whole body aches for no reason. Probably you slept on the wrong side of the bed— wait.

This is Catnap's room.

You're laying on his large cat bed and you begin to question yourself...

Why are you here?

You remember being in the infirmary after you exhausted yourself with work. But something doesn't feel right and you swore something happened after.

You try to remember what had happened but nothing came up, everything is a blur.

It made you feel frustrated.

A sharp pain in your head makes you jolt as you hisses in pain. You decide to ease yourself from thinking too much.

"Catnap?" you called out for the feline mascot.

Silence.

Where did the cat go?

You look around the room and notice a tray with medicines on them with a few bottles of water.

You pick up the pills and it was the prescription given by the doctor for your headaches.

You didn't think twice and took the pill so it will make your headaches go away.

After that you lay back down on the soft bed, you can return to your office after your headaches goes away.

As much as you want to walk back to your office, you don't want to stumble around like a drunk idiot and hurt yourself.

You close your eyes and rest....

Purr...purr...purr...

You hear soft purring in your ears, you slowly open your eyes and purple fur fills your vision.

You knew who it was and it is Catnap.

Hugging you close to his body with one arm over you as he purrs softly in his sleep. His body is curled around you in a protective manner.

You unconsciously bring your hand up and rub the feline's head, causing his purring to become louder.

"Star..."

Catnap's eyes open as he stares down at you, he shifts a bit to give you some space.

"How....are you...feeling?"

"I feel a little bit better...hmm...I remember being in the infirmary, did you bring me here Catnap?"

"Yes...I brought you here.... the infirmary bed is...bad...and not good for sleeping"

You hum at his response as you continue to pet him, Catnap closes his eyes and accepts the affection he's receiving from you.

You smile at the sight of the purring cat, you quite enjoy petting him and the other SC. They were made to comfort children in the orphanage after all.

You lift yourself off the bed and stretch yourself, "Well, I guess it's time for me to go back to my office!" this caused Catnap to snap out from his purring state.

"You can't!"

This causes you to flinch slightly at his sudden change of tone, "Why?" you questioned the cat.

Catnap froze, why didn't he think this through? He doesn't want you to go back to your office and see the massacre.

Also, the risk of losing you to the other toys is high.

"Everything.... already closed down"

Catnap said. It's entirely true that it's already past closing time. The playcare and the cable car usually shut down after 9:00 p.m. The only people who have access to everything are the night guards.

"What?! It's already past 9:00 p.m.?!"

You were shocked. You've slept that long? Catnap nods as you rub your forehead, guess you have to sleep in for the night huh.

You pucker up your lips before your stomach lets out a loud growl indicating your hunger.

Catnap's ears perk up at the sound as you smile sheepishly, "I haven't eaten since afternoon...I do remember leaving my lunch on my table" you hummed.

"I'll go get it!"

Catnap said as he stands up on all fours. Before you could question him, Catnap jumps up to the hole above leaving you inside the room.

"Huh?! Catnap, wait! Take me with you!"

You called out for him but to no avail. You let out a sigh as you stare up at the entrance on the ceiling. This room is easy to get in but hard to get out.

You have no choice but to wait for Catnap to come back.

You wait...

and...wait...

waiting....

What's taking Catnap so long?

You wish there's a clock in here and you don't have a watch to tell you the time. You assume he was gone for 15 minutes now.

Then, you hear something and it comes from the hole.

"Catnap?"

Something large drops down onto the cat bed, causing you to flinch. It was a blue box with a star on it. It has a crank on its side too. Is it...a music box?

For some reason, you feel the sense of deja vu.

You stare at it for a while, narrowing your eyes at the box.

You just couldn't keep your eyes away from it, if you do something bad would happen.

You and this mysterious box are engaged in a staring competition.

A few minutes pass and nothing happens but that uneasy feeling hasn't left your guts.

Then, the box begins to wind up and plays the well known 'Pop's goes the weasel'

'Get. the. f*ck. outta. there!'

As soon you take a step back, the lid pops and comes out from it, was a monster with razor sharp teeth and claws covered in fresh blood.

By the blessing from the god, you somehow slip and avoid getting eaten by the red headed monster.

"Sh*t!"

That's the only thing you could cry out as you quickly get to your feet and run.

But...where?!

The box monster springs itself towards you like a charging bull, you scream out in fear as you yet again dodge it but it manages to scratch your leg.

You fall on to the ground as you watch your leg bleed, the box monster stalks towards you with hungry eyes.

Your body begin to shakes in fear.

There's no way you can survive this, there is no escape!

As the monster lunges at you, you feel something sharp hooking itself on the back of your shirt and drags you high up.

The box monster was surprised as you are, it let out a frustrated roar as you feel yourself being dragged away by a strange force.

A/n : I know it's a short chapter but I want to leave a cliffhanger.

Also, the Reader had mild amnesia but having it doesn't mean that she forgot her entire identity!

It is only the memories of the previous event were wiped out and she only forgot the event of her being kidnapped and the hour of joy.

But she does remember being in the infirmary, resting.

[skycowboys]

Hello, I adore your work, I was wondering in this world does any other form of transportation exist such as locomotives 🚂 (I’m an avid Railway/rail fan enthusiast and considering there were races between horses and the earliest locomotives, with horses and other four legged critters helping building the lines before being replaced) I feel like these “iron horses” wouldn’t exactly be much of a threat.

Hello!

That's so cool. Trains are so cool. I seriously wish we had more of them here in America - both historical trains and tracks but also highspeed rail. I will die and go to heaven of happiness the moment I can take a reliable train to a destination other than the metrodome on a Twins game day sob.

The old west history of trains is fascinating and a little tragic, but yeah you're correct about the SC world. Due to the chasms, trains aren't really that viable for cross-country travel and shipping of goods. Here's a quick rail line theoretical -

The main cities are circled in purple -

West/North/South Rook and Southcut are a farming and nymbak center due to the relatively large swaths of unbroken land and the river.

Denavi and Oakridge are known for their timber (and Denavi for lightning fish products).

Woodloch and Vale have universities.

Slipshod and Carver Canyon Falls are known for their mining, and the area north of Carver Canyon is another bread basket.

Almost all the space in between is free-range farm, timber, and livestock land.

I've drawn potential rail lines between them and you can see all of, uh, the problems lol. If there would be a maintained line, it'd be in the middle of the farmland north of the Rooks to transport grains southward to the Rooks, but people are so accustomed to skimmers (flying pegasi pulling wheeled carts on the ground) and shortwings pulling carts along paved roads, it'd be hard to convince them to put in rail lines. The people of SC are used to using what's in their local area to make a good living for themselves, supplemented with goods and knowhow brought in by pilots and trade routes supported by bridge and cable cars.

Eventually I want to make a map that includes bridges and cable cars because that might switch this up a bit, but first I gotta finish the book :)

But yeah, the pegasus is the main mode of transportation in the SC world, and other than footpaths there aren't really any others that get close to the popularity and efficiency of pegasus-centered methods.

~ Larn

[what-if-i-like-my-mechs-older]

Pt25

(In which the the mystery mech and Orion bone in the bath. I would like to make a point that Mystery mech is not an OC.)

Optimus realised he couldn't quite remember where the bath was and now had his hands out trying to find it. After all, it wasn't as if he knew this place like the back of his hand. Stepping forward cautiously, he really didn't want to embarrass himself in front of the mech whose presence he could now feel watching him.

"Here, let me help you."

Orion accepted the hand that took his and guided him to the bath.

The mech made sure Optimus didn't slip as he settled into the warm oil , listening as he groaned, even the sounds of contentment wound through him, watching as Orion stretched and savoured the feeling.

"And what do you intend to do tonight?"

"I could do a myriad of things to you, but tonight, let me appreciate you, let me show your fears can be put to rest."

"Heh, what are you going to do? Feed me your spike despite my fangs?"

Orion chuckled, though he kept his battle mask closed.

"I could, I'd like to be the first Decepticon you do that to. "

The mech answered as he took up a sponge and started wiping in smooth languid movements across Orions chest windows.

"You'd be the first anyone I did that to, my carrier started filing my fangs down because I kept biting at the feeding cables...which is understandable I can only imagine how much that would hurt."

The Decepticon listened but he didn't sympathise with the carrier at all.

"Did they care how much it would hurt you?"

Orion was quiet, he'd never really thought about that.

"I...think they did, but it was something that had to be done, they thought the bloodline was far enough for traits to stop showing, but it simply skipped a generation."

He made a soft sound of appreciation as his headlights were touched, his smile behind the battle mask becoming a little more fond and the mech could tell by the slight squirm.

Of course he stopped washing him, he wanted to see him smile, the way those pretty lips expressed themselves.

He knocked with a careful knuckle on his mask

"Come on , open up, I want to see your expression."

"Say please."

The mech rolled his optics and huffed with a smile of his own.

"Please."

He replied working now on the headlights on the right side, his hands coming to a stand still as he could see Orions fangs peeking in that smile.

How could Optimus be ashamed of them?

He himself was fighting not to grab him and pull him forward in a reckless kiss, even if it marked his own lips, he revelled in the thought of how delightfully dangerous it would be to do such a thing.

Optimus started to fidget as the other mech had said nothing, maybe his visitor had realised his error and that they were a terrible thing to have, he closed his mouth and sucked his lips in too quick, not used to having his fangs made a hissing sound as energon trickled from the bottom one.

Oh , oh that was not helping the mech who was watching him at all, he didn't even hold back as he climbed into the bath, catching Orion off guard as his face was held, the spread of the mechs fingers along either side of his jaw and thumbs resting on his bottom lip as he straddled him.

"Please...let me see them."

He leaned in kissing away the energon trail.

"I want to see you Pax, all of you."

"Hey now, what happened to my sponge bath?"

Orion teased , only to genuinely be surprised when he felt the sponge return to his grill, attentively cleaning its edges and each layer of metal, his cheeks going dark.

"Primus...are you just acutely aware of others weak spots?"

"I've been highly observant, watching every reaction, every public display of affection, paying attention to the way you twitch, the way your intakes shutter...your left final is more sensitive to the other...you were injured on right once. It doesn't move as much."

Orions mouth hung open and the mech stared at those pretty fangs, he wanted Orion to bite him, to leave scratch marks, he wanted to be the only mech at the end of them, but he couldn't be greedy, if he let Orion mark him in obvious places, he couldn't be so readily in his presence without giving away who he was.

Perhaps his colours would be off putting , his face , his body type, after all they were from different universes, what one found attractive in their world might be highly undesirable in another, he was just happy Pax accepted him like this.

"Say something...your voice...last time when you had your face buried between my thighs, the deep growl..."

Orion bent his legs so his thighs pressed up against his mystery mech, setting him off balance and nearly landing flush against him, he caught the edge of the bath before that happened.

Their lips but a breath apart

"Your voice had me coming undone."

It was enough for the mech to close his optics and press their lips together and slowly coax Orion to part them so he could feel the sharpness against his tongue, one hand holding his face as his other reached down, opening the Autobots chest, remembering how much he'd enjoyed the way he'd fingered his insides.

Between finger tips he massaged head rests and seat backs, to the actual seating and the flooring of his cab, his thumb scratching along the dash board.

He devoured each moan and stole glances at those beautiful fangs that Orion had been made to feel like an outcast for, kissing against them.

"If you like my voice so much, then I'll make sure to talk to you, could you imagine, in a meeting, I call you privately, you're trying your best in an Autobot conference to keep a reserved appearance..."

He kissed him again as he teased over the floor pedals, knowing a well timed rev of his engines could have him whining like last time.

"And I tell you about all the things I plan to do to you once you come back, and Autobots and Decepticons being as taboo as you make it sound, it's dangerous for us to even be playing like that..."

He pressed a finger against the gas pedal just long enough to see Orion start to arch and his mouth open , exposing once again those gorgeous fangs.

His own panel opening as he shifted to straddle a thigh, smirking as he saw Orions expression.

"I'm sure you don't mind me having my own fun?"

He purred , his hips slowly rocking, doing exactly what he'd wanted to do to Orion when he'd seen him under the shower with Warp.

"Not at all."

Orion took a blind guess at where the mechs hips were and guessed right, giving them an affectionate squeeze, he'd not expected to feel them jerk and subtly pick up the pace.

Optimus could feel the mechs node caressing along his thigh and bit his bottom lip, careful not to tear his own mouth open.

"You'd call me and tell me you want my spike, that you want to take over and ruin me?"

"Mmm perhaps you are more observant than I give you credit for Pax...but you are right."

The mech chuckled

Pleasure and humor being shared between them as fingers explored.

Drinking in the sensation of him using his thigh to get off, feeling his node swelling and lick along white metal, Orion felt his own excitement pooling down below, wondering what it would be like to have him sit on his face so he could eat him out, however the panel that opened on his own body neither of them expected.

"I...err sorry wrong panel, I was just thinking how much I wanted you to sit on my face and..."

The mech moaned loudly just at the very fucking though of sitting on that pretty mouth .

"Oh I will one day if we are able to plan more of these future meetings mmm I will be more than happy to oblige your request and as I said, feed you my spike."

"To be on my knees and have you fuck my face, like the dirty filthy autobot that I am, that better be a promise."

The mech kissed him deeply, moving Orions hands from his hips , only to then move himself so he could grab the back of Orions thighs and lift his legs so his knees were by his head.

"I don't care what panel you open, so long as I get to cum with you."

Before Orion could even respond he felt his node meeting the mechs own, pressing himself to it as they moved together.

The mech had been clever putting him in this position, It meant he could be closer to him without Orion figuring out who he was, that he could kiss him as he placed Orions hands on his aft, there was nothing there to give him away as their hips rocked together, as they moved and found themselves incapable of stopping, the slick sensation under the oil that now waved and splashed as they moved , spilling over the edges.

The mech purposely catching his lip on a fang to share an energon kiss, their glossas tasting and mingling the unbridled passion.

Orion, wanted to claw at his back, but kept his hands where they were allowed, pressing them closer as if they could sink as one into each othes plating. His optics rolling under the blindfold, thinking how in his world him being with a Decepticon was practically illegal and forbidden and here he was valve fucking one who's face he didn't even know, but Primus it was so good, so intoxicating he could feel even in the hidden identity of the mech that this Con wanted to get under his plating and consume him.

He kissed along his neck and jaw, wanting to touch him in anyway he was allowed to, only to be brought back into a kiss that was shared.

Their bodies moving faster and faster until half the oil in the bath was flooding the floor.

He felt the Decepticons breath at his audio receptor, that deep growl rumbling through him

"I don't care mmmph who you sleep with, but you're mine and I'll never let them take you back."

The possessive tone was too much, his grip denting the mechs aft metal and leaving paint streaks, his node throbbing as he overloaded and he could feel the mech follow seconds after as he rode out his overload, fast and desperate until it was a slow tracing sensation , he could almost sense the wicked smile as he kept moving and pulling out soft pathetic whimpers from him.

"Hmm do you want me to do that again Orion?"

He whispered nipping his bottom lip.

"Please...yes..."

"Good Bot, you know your manners after all."

Next

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First

[fictasticvoyage]

Frans! 4 years ago today, I posted my very first fic. We have probably all had a moment to say "Schitt’s Creek saved my life" and I want to agree and add that "SC fanfiction saved my life".

I spent much of the pandemic in the same mental space we were all in but in September of 2020, cable started bringing me 2 episodes of SC every night and things got a little brighter. As a teacher for elementary-age kiddos with autism and complex medical needs, virtual instruction was about the worst situation I could have imagined, but that winter, during my second go round of the show, I googled "Schitt’s Creek fanfiction" (having only really heard of fanfiction through Tina Belcher's eyes), and started reading. And reading, and reading, and reading....

Soon enough, I was inspired to throw my hat in the ring and write creatively, something I hadn't done since high school, over 20 years prior, and OH, IT FELT SO GOOD! I felt productive, and smart, and interesting. It brought me community, and friendship, and I hope to never stop. Thanks for listening and being there, and enjoying this ride with me! I really hoped to write something for today, as I have on previous ficaversaries, but its been a week, and I'm exhausted. But I wouldn't want to share today with anyone but y'all!

[fibermarts]

SC vs. LC Fibre Optic Connectors: Key Differences, Applications, and Best Choices for Your Network

Fibre optic technology is important in contemporary telecommunications because it allows data to be sent at fast rates over great distances with minimal signal loss. Connectors are important in this type of technology because they help connect fibre optic cables to various networking devices seamlessly. When selecting a suitable fibre optic connector, professionals have two options: SC Cable and…

[nebula-award]

♆☸ Astrolabe: Chapter 1

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After a Groundbridge incident during a recon mission on the Nemesis, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Smokescreen find themselves on an uncharted island. No comms, energon, a way off, or memory of how they got there. As the base searches for the squadron, trust provides a catalyst to the stranded Autobots as they move forward and backward in time.

AO3 Link | CH2

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Day One

The piercing ring never left his ears, nor did the sound of wires zapping rhythmically, as he came back online. What followed was a metallic shriek from shifting his legs. Scrap, that tox-en pain never left. Groaning, his optics fluttered open meeting bright rays that dodged the leafy overhang in order to blind his optics. 

Primus, his helm ached. Dragging a heavy hand to his head, Bulkhead grumbled deep enough to shake the dirt beneath him. Dirt…? At the thought, he shot himself up straight and opened his optics wide which sent a heavy weight of pain to his helm. He hissed, burying his head in his dirt covered servos. 

“Sccccrap.” He drew out. 

Slowly, he reopened his optics greeting the green world around him. Canopies of trees shield his vision for miles, and the ground below was dark as chocolate and soft in his digits. He glances up, minding the sun’s rays, to find a giant, Cybertronian-sized hole in the canopy. No, too big for just him… 

“Bulk…head? Oh, sc-c-crap.” 

Bulkhead jumps at the breaking voice behind him. He turns around with great worry as he realizes the source of the frying wires zapping in his audio processor. Paint job hidden by black dirt, Smokescreen lies on his side in a fetal position. His servos clutch his abdomen, doing a terrible job holding the leaking blue energon staining his white finish. Some of the cables on his right leg are disconnected and produce sparks. Despite his attempt to endure the wound, he’s moaning heavily at the sheer pain, vocal processor frying his vocals. 

The wrecker narrowed his optics and lurched over to the wounded. “Scrap, Kid! What happened?” 

The rookie eases himself to the best of his abilities. “Your g-guess is… as go-od as mine…” 

“You mean you remember nothing?”

Smokescreen shakes his head the best he can. He hisses as his leg cables spark. “’ink I’m startin’ to under-erstand what you and Ar-cee meant… by ‘long haul…’” 

Bulkhead chuckles despite the circumstance, searching in his chest cavity for any medical supplies. “You learned just as I did: Arcee is always right…”  

Bulkhead’s optics flashed at her name. An image of the blue two-wheeler in dark lighting-- face-plate illuminated by a red glow-- passes his memory files. 

“Arcee!” He shouts. 

“Ouch!” Smokescreen groans. “Ca-re-reful! My audio processor just… got fully on-line.” 

“Sorry, Kid.” Bulkhead grimaces as he finds a few medical supplies. (How he wished he listened to Ratchet’s advice to resupply…) He leans down, doing his best to patch up Smokescreen’s stomach, but servos meant for construction can only do so much. “I just remembered Arcee was with us before, well, all of this happened. She must be nearby.” 

“Nearby… grh, wh-ere exactly?” 

“I’m… not sure.” Bulkhead frowns. “But, I’m going to try and radio her. Stay still for now, Smoke.” 

“D-don’t have… to-to tell me tw-ice.”

“Arcee?” 

… 

“Arcee?” 

… 

“Arcee, do you copy?” 

Frag… She groans as her comm link scratches in her ears. The voice matches the pounding in her head: persistent and loud. “Arcee? Arcee, please come in.” The voice pleads, and she pities whoever is on the line as much as she pities her headache. 

She refuses to open her optics, bringing her hand weakly to her comm link button. “Present…” 

“Oh, thank Primus, Cee.” 

Her eyebrows furrow at the nickname, quickly opening her optics. “Bulkhead?” Her thoughts fill with concern as she glances around her foreign surroundings: nothing but a fog of green. Her breath hitches, realizing he is nowhere in sight. “Primus, what happened?” She asks-- mostly to herself-- as her servos run against the dirt floor. 

“I’m… not entirely sure. That fall Smokescreen and I completely wiped our memory banks.” 

She sighs, raising herself up onto her pedes. “As long as you two are safe.” 

“...” 

“...Bulk?” 

“Not… Not necessarily.” 

She frowns, “Meaning?” 

“The kid’s bleeding energon badly and his leg is broken. Whatever happened to us certainly wasn’t a normal energon skirmish.” 

Her optics darted to the floor, shaking. She’s quiet for a moment before asking with quivering breath. “Is- is he stable?” 

“To the best of my abilities, but we’re stranded ducks out here, Cee. If we’re going to locate each other, you’re gonna have to come to us. We should be to the Northeast.”

Arcee grimaces as she begins stalking through the forest. She keeps low in the brush, light frame barely making a sound. She unsheathes her blades, cutting through branches and ivy in her path. “Helpful…” She tells him, but a smirk is clear on her face. She can hear his half-hidden chuckle.

“Hard to get a reading out in the middle of nowhere, Cee. We’re gonna look for shelter soon, but I’d advise heading that direction for now.” 

“Alright, stay safe, Bulk.” 

“... You too, Cee.” 

The line goes quiet, leaving Arcee to take in the thick sounds of the jungle. Brushes shook at every cut. Birds chattering high in the trees, hidden from her view. Arcee scowls. Despite the loneliness of her situation-- she cut through more vines-- a chill constantly ran through her spine… 

She steeps lower into the brushes, mindful of the anxious feeling invading her system. The more she traveled, the softer the birds sang… Softer and softer until their songs ceased into a dead stillness-- a waited breath, until a powerful roar of a drill echoed through the jungle. Arcee’s optics flash at the sound, and she stalks closer like a jaguar sneaking past a group of poachers: Decepticons. In the middle of the trees was a small clearing surrounded by drills and cargo loads emitting a bright blue glow. Arcee’s chest heaved watching the small team of vehicons drill into the earth. She ducked low as a troop surveyed the area… 

“Scrap…”

[rea-grimm]

Night of Living Mannequins

You were returning home late at night and decided to cut your way through an old factory that had been out of business for several years. Some people might find it creepy, but not you. When you were younger, you used to go there to play with your friends and once in a while you would meet there for a sleepover, watch horror movies or tell each other scary stories.

You had no idea what was made there, but the factory was full of old and abandoned plastic mannequins and half-decomposed robots that were just gathering dust.

The light didn't work in the factory, so you used the flashlight on your phone. You went through the side gate and the main hall. Now only smaller rooms followed.

You walked into the first one and you were slightly stunned. You didn't remember there being as many figures as there are now. You were sure the room was half empty before. However, you were also sure that this was the correct door that was supposed to lead you out a few rooms away.

You walked through as you had a strange feeling as if the mannequins were watching you. You just shook your head and walked away.

You walked into another room which to your surprise was also filled with mannequins and robots too. This time it was scarier as they were focused on you. As if they were expecting your arrival.

You stopped in your steps before deciding to move on. You got a bad feeling about it and quickened your pace. You wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

You walked into another room when this time your path was blocked by mannequins staring at you with blank faces

You turned to go back where you came from, but that way was barricaded as well. You didn't understand how they got there. After all, just a second ago the road was passable.

You took a step back when you noticed the mannequins starting to get closer to you, you were about to run away when a hand landed on your shoulder from behind. You turned around to see the figure walking towards you. That was the last thing you saw before the darkness engulfed you.

You had no idea how long you had been out, but you woke up with a headache strapped to the table. You tried to move but you were shackled both on your hands and feet and around your waist and neck.

However, you were in such a position that you had a view around you. You had the impression that you were in a laboratory because all around you there were various tools and instruments that you had no idea what they were for.

However, the mannequins were everywhere again, Although they were not so close now. Rather, they formed a kind of wall. Opposite you stood a tall robot that was connected to a socket. Out of all the figures and robots, he looked the best.

He even looked like a sleeping person. He had red hair reminiscent of fire, but several red cables were sticking out of it. His eyes were closed and his metal skin was marred by a few long scars. One hand, however, was different, much rougher, as if someone else had created it and attached it to him.

Next to you was another table that resembled a work surface. There were a lot of metal parts and tools on it. Amidst it, all was a metal model of the bird that looked like it was about to take off at any moment and fly away.

You had no idea how long you lay there, but you were slowly starting to get convulsions. You tried to get out of your bonds but it was futile. Despite that, you gave it a try.

You were startled when the robot in the charger looked up. He opened his eyes and his gaze immediately landed on you. Fear took hold of you again and you tried to get out of your bonds all the more.

The robot disconnected from the charger and slowly walked towards you. He glared at you as if you were just another obstacle in his way. The sight of him sent chills up your spine.

A few steps away from you, he raised his right hand and his fingers became a sharp scalpel. You shuddered at the thought of what he could do to you. You swallowed hard and watched as he aimed the scalpel at your head.

You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes. Your heart was racing and you almost forgot to breathe with fear. You were expecting pain at every moment. Instead, you felt the belt around your neck loosen.

You hesitantly opened one eye only to notice the robot using a scalpel to get you out of your handcuffs. You breathed a sigh of relief and opened your other eye as well.

“Thank you,” you said as he got you out of the handcuffs completely. You jumped to the floor and rubbed your sore wrists.

"I don't understand why they keep bringing me these humans here. Like I want someone that weak,” he grunted.

"Who are you?" you asked him hesitantly.

"I'm Kid," he replied simply. "Now get out," he said, turning to the desk where the robotic bird was.

You nodded your head and headed for the exit. However, the door was blocked by mannequins that refused to let you go. It wasn't until Kid walked over to you that the mannequins made room for you to pass.

With that, the robot gestured for you to go on your own. You wouldn't mind going alone if those mannequins didn't block your way again and start picking on you.

You took a few steps back and instinctively stepped closer to Kid. He just frowned at the whole situation, put his arm around your waist and went out with you.

The mannequins made room for him but used every opportunity to reach out to you. You pressed herself even closer to Kid, who didn't miss it.

He smirked smugly and pulled you closer to him. Despite being a robot, the metal from which it was made was pleasant to the touch.

This is how he escorted you to the very edge of the property, where there were no more mannequins and where you were not in danger.

You thanked him for his help and he just grunted something and told you to get out of his sight. Although he seemed to be bothered by it, the reality was different.

You were the first person who interested him sufficiently and who was also good-looking. But he kept something like that to himself. After all, it wasn't your last meeting.

Kid Masterlist

[fibermart]

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[lilbit-of-kizzy]

We're fairing much better at the base of the mountains but only just

Power is out to half the county, 4/5G signal is out for more than that, Spectrum internet is out for the foreseeable future (they lost a major fiber optic cable, no idea when it'll be back) which means most businesses can only accept cash if they're open at all.

Two major bridges had to be closed and one still is (where that dam was opened), and we've all been told to not even try to go any further west than Hickory. I40 is closed at Black Mountain (below Ashville) and Blowing Rock and Boone are shut down.

We here were mostly only inconvenienced. We'll be alright. Please all of you pray for those west of here, and donate to vetted organizations if you can (red cross is probably your best bet!). If you live in NC, TN, VI, WV, SC, etc and were thinking of visiting loved ones or coming to help please reconsider for now. They're trying desperately to cut down on traffic rn

[scenvs3000w25]

On the Meaning of Reading (Unit 6)

We read everyday. You’re reading this right now. This morning, you woke up, and read something on your phone, whether it was a text from a friend, a social media post, a news article, or something else. Then you went to school, where you read words on lecture slides or pages from a textbook. 

Reading is everywhere, so much so that we don’t think about it. However, what surprised me when reading the textbook chapters was the level of effort and planning that goes into much of what we read. The rules, the indices, the carefully curated suggestions and step-by-step programs for effective writing. The realization that someone carefully considered and chose all those words I just read on a day-to-day basis without a second thought. 

This revelation has me reconsidering my own writing. Leftridge (2006) makes the excellent point that ‘it’s good to have goals in your interpretive writing’. Having a clear, defined goal will make your writing impactful and help your story resonate with your audience. 

I also found the tips from William Zinsser (2006), who advises writers to keep sentences short and simple, use positive phrases, be specific, use active voice, and generally just try to be as clear and concise as possible. Zinsser said, “The essence of writing is rewrit-ing”, and I believe these tips can be extremely helpful for writers in the editing stage. Initially, just write what you want to write. Then, revise it until you are confident your words say what you want to say. - Serena 2025

Overall, though, I think the most important advice given in Chapter 14 of Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage is Zinsser (2006)’s fundamental rule to be yourself when writing. Have the courage and confidence to be authentic. Expanding on this rule, Tilden states, “Whatever is written without enthusiasm, will be read without interest”. If you are true to yourself, you will write about what interests you, and that is your best bet at keeping your audience engaged. Authors have repeated variations of this sentiment through the years: 

"You don't write because you want to say something; you write because you have something to say." - F. Scott Fitzgerald 

If we consider writing as a record of human history, then authenticity becomes paramount. What are we recording if not the authentic voices of past people? What would we know about the tenacity of the human spirit, about love, about living, if great writers throughout time had not experienced these things and been brave enough to express themselves? To express oneself authentically is a form of integrity. As Edward Hyams said in Chapter 7 of The Gift of Interpretation, “There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity”.

 Hymes goes on to describe integrity as a presentation of all the parts of a whole, to recognize the past as part of the whole, part of the process that shapes what stands today. If we choose to ignore the past or selectively focus on only what we want to see, we lose our integrity. We must acknowledge and understand our history and everything that led us here in order to understand and appreciate ourselves, on an individual and on a societal level. 

That is why, in writing, we must write with purpose. We must write with intention. We must write with authenticity. We must preserve our true selves in the written word, our experiences and lessons learned, in order to guide future generations and uphold a clear image of the past. This is important now more than ever, in my opinion, as we go through tumultuous times on a social and political level. 

References: 

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2019). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Leftridge, A. (2006). Interpretive Writing. Rowman & Littlefield.

Zinsser, W. (2006). On Writing Well. Harper Paperbacks.

12 Quotes on Writing by F. Scott Fitzgerald. (2021). Writinganalytics.co. https://www.writinganalytics.co/quotes/author/f-scott-fitzgerald/

[dominimoonbeam]

To The Edge

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 7.

Styx wasn’t what Stardust had expected.

When they’d envisioned a lawless trading outpost adrift beyond the charted edge of space, they’d imagined thriving debauchery—red light districts, fruit bars, and endless stalls of unregulated goods.

Walking the plaza of the repurposed military station, they realized their imaginings had been more in line with Cache, the largest casino in the galaxy, which was laughable because there was nothing outwardly illegal about Cache.

Styx wasn’t really lawless either. Stardust spotted the cameras along the corridors funneling off the plaza down the long arms for parking ships and the entrances to residential districts. People lived here. The shops weren’t just fun fronts for the amusement of travelers, they were businesses cultivated and run by real people. There were kids—families. Had they fled to the edge to escape the solar court? To escape justice or debt? Or had they been born out here?

Stardust winced at the sight of a small child laughing and running circles around a parent’s legs.

There were stories about the dangers of having kids outside the SC and Eaton. Slaving wasn’t legal in any of the governing bodies of space…but unregistered people off world weren’t really the problem of any of those governing bodies. As long as no one brought them home, no law in the stars would bat an eye. They called it wreckage. They called them wreckage.

Stardust stole glances into the shops, trying to look like they’d been there before and weren’t gawking at everything new and different from the prime. They’d been born and raised in the center of the galaxy, on worlds that became stranger and stranger in contrast to the places they had seen in the months since fleeing for their life. What they knew of the worlds and stations beyond the prime quad had been learned from classrooms and soap operas.

Everyone loved a good trashy story about one of their own being stranded or tricked into the deep where they found themselves at the whim of an incredibly attractive brute.

That was not the reality—not that Stardust had been looking for it. The pirates had been assholes, barely more than idiot children with a language of violence, and Cosmic…

Cosmic wasn’t what they had expected to find in the deep either.

Stardust scrubbed a hand over their face, trying not to think about him taped to the chair back on his ship. He was fine. He wasn’t going to die just because they left him sitting there for a while. They’d find a new ship—a way back on course—and he’d be fine.

First, they needed to access their accounts.

They finally spotted a café full of screens, some people laid out in chairs with visors on, cables in their necks, or just light swirling in their irises as their minds drifted far away. Others sat at consoles, fingers dancing over lightboards or keyboards.

The disconnection of their optic implant this far from charted space had been jarring at first, the quiet of not getting constant messages, updates, notifications, and calls was disconcerting. They’d never felt alone like this before. They could still use the apps: vision upgrades, language translators, and files of images and recordings. They’d spent a lot of their time in the cramped cargo hold of that pirate vessel rewatching episodes of their favorite drama and playing endless rounds of mahjong solitaire.

They found an available console and sat down.

A synthetic leaning behind the café counter eyed them, light strobing across his cheek, like lightning under his skin. Their console turned on, offering them access for four minutes to start a tab before it would be shut off.

They tapped keys, syncing their implant and sighing with relief when the whole universe seemed to come into reach again. Paying the tab was not a problem. They put in an order for a coffee and a strawberry bun and then started sifting through their mail.

They had dozens of messages from Genesis, pretending to be worried about them—wanting to know where they had gone and promising to help protect them from the other cousins. It was a lie, of course. Genesis was a silver-tongued monster. Did he think they didn’t know? They weren’t some stranger who hadn’t seen the bloodshed of his games.

Tansy, on the other hand, hadn’t felt the need to lie. She was hunting Stardust and had sent just one message, offering to let them live when it was done if they surrendered.

Stardust was a poor excuse for a Solinoh, but they still wouldn’t surrender. It wasn’t in their blood to yield, and it was an insult that Tansy had even suggested it.

They grabbed one of the blank plastic cards from a stack to the side and placed it on the keypad, moving money from an account onto it. It would have to do for now. They’d considered getting a long-range upgrade for their implant, but weren’t sure if their cousins could track them by it if they did. Their family had a skill for acquiring inventors and new tech. Maybe it was better to stay low for a while?

They were about to place a call when a figure stepped up beside them, just inside their little space of imagined privacy. A large, clear, glass nestled onto a saucer was placed beside their keyboard. The foam atop the cappuccino bulged, stretching the limits of physics by not spilling over. No hand but a synthetic one could have carried it without disrupting it. Stardust doubted they’d be able to lift it for a sip without making a mess.

The barista waited.

Stardust cocked their head back to look up at him. They’d expected charm and flirtation on that artificial, perfect face now that they’d started a tab and clearly had the funds for it. That was how synthetics had worked the last time they’d seen any in the prime. They’d been big smiles or politely lowered heads.

The synthetic looked just as unimpressed as he had behind the bar. He hadn’t lowered his head to look down at them where they sat either, he’d just shifted those starless black eyes down the slope of his cheeks.

Stardust flushed, reminded why there were no more synthetics in the prime. It had been cycles since the wars, but those wars had been almost a decade of fighting and dying across the solar court… outside the prime, of course. When word of synthetics turning on their creators spread, when those first acts of revolt stained the prime worlds, the golden center of the galaxy had done what it always did—protect itself from all others.

It seemed like overnight, all the synthetics in the prime had disappeared.

Stardust remembered it with discomfort, especially under those manmade eyes. Could he see it on them? Their family and friends had been upset in those first years of the Synthetic Wars because of the trouble it had caused them. They had to let lower-class humans back into the prime, back into their homes and onto their ships, to do all the jobs the synthetics had been doing before them. The consolation had been that it was cheaper to pay a human than it had cost to buy the synth.

Stardust suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

Another strobe of light shimmered under the skin of his face and this time Stardust was at an angle to see those pastel colors reflected in the blacks of his eyes—creating stars in that night.

As though he saw it—saw how their stomach had turned—he placed the second plate with the strawberry bun beside their coffee. The dishes bumped and the coffee overflowed the edge, pooling in the saucer. His mouth twitched with a smile and Stardust tried not to marvel at it—at him. It had been so long since they’d seen a synthetic that they’d somehow forgotten how incredibly real their design had become. It was beyond uncanny valley and onto something else. It wasn’t just perfection, it was better than that. There was a quirk to his smile and a menace to the beauty of his face.

It seemed humans had done what they always did. They made things better than themselves and lost control of it.

Looking at a synthetic didn’t feel like looking at something that wasn’t quite human… it felt like looking at something humans wanted to become.

“You’re going to get yourself killed if you stay here too long,” he said, a drawl to his deep voice that rolled under the hum of music and keystrokes in the room.

Stardust didn’t look away, pitching an eyebrow. “Are you threatening me?”

His smirk remained. “Don’t tempt me, Solinoh.”

Stardust’s stomach lurched, suddenly realizing he was between them and the exit. Did it matter? They couldn’t outrun him if they tried. Maybe if they hit him with something…

The synthetic scoffed. “Handle your business and go. I don’t want to see you in here again. I don’t need you dying in my place.”

His place?

Heat rushed their face. They’d just assumed he worked there. No, that wasn’t true. They’d assumed he belonged to the building or to the owner.

Fuck.

He nodded like he knew it, that gaze flicking over them again. “And when you’re done here, go to the catwalk and get some better clothes. Your mortal ass isn’t long for this world and even I’d be disappointed to see you die in sweatpants.”

Stardust wasn’t sure if that was a joke or just the truth, either way, they nodded in agreement.

Light strobed across his cheek and his expression changed. They caught the start of a true smile when he turned toward the opening to greet a trio of synthetics.

Stardust forced their gaze down to the coffee on their table, refusing to gawk at these people. He was right, though, if they were that easily identified by synthetics, they needed to get moving.

They placed a call while they were still connected. The camera on the screen lit up to film them but when the call connected, the scene they watched was in their implant only, projected like a screen but only for their eyes.

Cornelius answered on the first ring, a sign that Stardust had truly rattled their friend because Cor never answered on the first ring as a rule. They were lucky if he answered at all.

“You’re alive!” Cor whisper-yelled, hurrying to get someplace private. Strings of diamonds swayed and tangled from the circlet around his head, the front strands framing his cheeks while others stretched the length of his neck, gleaming against smooth dark skin. The background sounds were warped, automatically filtered out by his implant. “Where are you? Your family has been crawling all over me looking for you. I mean, I don’t mind some of them crawling all over me…”

Stardust exhaled hard, feeling the first real sense of relief since the pirates targeted their ship days ago.

Cornelius got someplace where he could talk because he really looked at them now, expression growing uncharacteristically serious. “What happened to you? Where… Did Genesis find you?” He whispered the name like a curse.

Stardust shook their head, clawing an unruly lock of hair behind their ear. They tongued the glued scab on their lip. They didn’t look half as bad as they had yesterday, but looking at Cor and remembering their life just months ago, they imagined it had to be a horror to see them now. “One of those assholes put a bounty on me,” they whispered. “Some pirates wrecked my jet and grabbed me—” They choked up and stopped, surprising themselves with a well of emotion they hadn’t even realized was there.

Cornelius nodded. “Where are you? I’ll send someone.”

Stardust wished it was that simple. “I’m past the edge.”

He stared, the strands of diamonds settling around his jaw and neck. “You… You really went out there? Everyone is saying you ran away or were kidnapped but… You’re really going?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Come back! We’ll hide out on Lu-Pan. Between the two of us, we can buy up half the islands and amass a little army.”

Stardust ached for that option. Lu-Pan was familiar, but it wasn’t safe. There was nowhere safe from their family. “I just wanted to check in. I’m alive.”

Cornelius frowned and Stardust realized how rarely they’d ever seen their best friend frown. They’d been together since they were toddlers. There was no one else Stardust trusted or loved more, which was exactly why they couldn’t run to him. “Where are you?” he asked again.

“I’ll check in again when I can.”

“Star—”

Hanging up physically hurt. It surprised them, making them swallow twice and look up to keep the gathering of tears from falling. After a couple quick breaths, they paid their tab and disconnected. Pocketing the plastic cash card they’d been clutching, Stardust realized they hadn’t touched their food. They almost left it, but their stomach growled in protest.

They compromised and picked up the bun on their way out.

Walking to the exit took them right past the three synthetics at the bar talking to the owner.

It was impossible not to feel the air shift and those immortal eyes turn on them, running over them from head to toe. One, a giant, grinned with a flash of metal-tipped fangs. “It’s a shame… I would have liked throwing a Solinoh in my cargo hold,” he said just loud enough for Stardust to hear even though the words were directed at his friends.

One of the others, wearing a body that appeared to be entirely made of gold and glass, waved a delicate hand through the air as if taking in the complications of fate. “Don’t hold your breath. No one but a Solinoh would put a bounty on a Solinoh, and there are just some people not even we’ll work for…”

 Stardust kept walking, bun in hand, until they were out of the café. They turned a hard right and wove into the crowd, finally taking a big bite.

They needed to get out of there…but they also needed to get a change of clothes. They followed the signs for The Catwalk.

The synthetic café owner wasn’t wrong. This was not an outfit worthy of dying in.