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insomniamamma · 1 year

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The Shallow: Din Djarin x f!reader

A/n: written for @oonajaeadira & @yearofcreation2023 's challenge, my Year of Kisses. This prompt is a kiss before dying. This is set post s2 of The Mandalorian. In this story Din and the reader have a ship called the Mudhorn. Did I name a hyperspace phenomina after a Lady Gaga song? Yes i did.

Warnings: Angst for days. Implied main character death. References to sex but nothing explicit. Helmetless Din. Grogu is safe with Luke so at least there's that. Also I have given up trying to make this stupid webbed site format things properly.

You know what the jump is supposed to feel like. You've been mechanic crew on plenty of small outfits before hooking up with the Mandalorian. There's usually a sliding sensation, a feeling in the inner ears, sometimes you can see it almost, the nearest surface bending down in a curve to oblivion, the tricks that hyperspace plays on a person's nerves, but it doesn't let up this time, that feeling that the world is bottoming out into an endless arc into nothing, the hyperdrive housing jets sparks overhead that burn sharp on your exposed skin, but it snaps you out of it some, reminds you that no matter how things look, there is still the here and now of the Mudhorn and she is wallowing-- Your coms crackle to life--

"What's happening down there? She's fighting me--" And you can hear the hyperdrive and sub-light engines surging intermittently, like they're fighting with each other and you go cold all over. This isn't supposed to happen. "What can you see out the window?" "This is no time--" "JUST TELL ME--" "Lines. Twisting lines. Are those stars?" "Kriff, we're tumbling." You feel the hyperdrive surge, that feeling of falling, the straight lines and struts of the Mudhorn curving away from you into angles that are impossible, the ship groans around you.

"We're in the shallow," you say, "Stop fighting it! We're going to break up!" They call it the interstice, the nowhere, the not-place. The place between real space and hyperspace, a film that you punch through like the surface tension on a water drop. You slap the control panel to your left and fire-suppressant foam dumps from above, dampening the sparks. The fire's out but the sublight-engines and hyperdrive still push and pull against each other like the chambers of a diseased heart. The Mudhorn groans around you but holds. For now. You plug your data-pad into the boards and start running diagnostics.

"We're in the shallow," says Mando. You startle and hit your head on the panel you've wedged yourself under. Lay back on the creeper and press a hand to your forehead to make sure you're not bleeding. "Dank Farrik! You scared me--" "What does that mean?" You haul yourself from under the panels and peer up into the nothing of his T-visor. "It means that the primary boards are slag," you say, and you feel tears prick hot in the corners of your eyes, "Your nav computer and your joystick are trying to work through a fused brick. So I would appreciate it greatly if you'd stop touching things--" You go to slide yourself back under the panels and Mando jams his foot beneath the creeper's wheels. "What does this mean?" "I don't know yet," you say, "The main control conduits are fried. Long range nav's down. Guidance is down. Computer interface is down. I don't know if I can get any of it back up. If I can get the computer back up I might be able to talk to the engines." "Might." "Look, that's the best I've got. Either lend a hand or get out of my way."

It doesn't help that every so often your visual field curves down in an impossible arc, while your inner ear tells you that the ship is moving violently up and to the side. You took a stim shot and have an anti-nausea patch slapped to your neck. We're going to be stuck like this forever, a traitorous voice pipes up as your fingers fly over the boards, splicing wires and sucking at burns, trying to puzzle your way around a half-slagged electrical system, all the while giving Mando instructions. There's no forever on a spaceship, a second, equally traitorous voice has it's say. Battery power runs down. Consumables run out. Scrubbers saturate. Fuel burns up. Best not to think of it. Work the problem. Solve one problem and the universe might hand you another one. You hear Mando's footfalls and haul yourself from underneath, swiping at your gritty eyes with equally gritty hands.

"When did you eat last?" "What? Why?" At the mention of food your stomach rumbles like a sleeping rancor. "Come on," he says and offers you a hand up, "You've been down here for hours." "The conduits--" "Aren't going anywhere. Neither are we." You take his hand and he leads you to the tiny galley.

Mando makes you eat two ration bars and drink a bowl of broth before he will even let you explain to him. And then he makes you say it twice. "We're stuck between," "Between?" "Hyperspace and real-space. The shallow." "That's not possible." says Mando. "Then I guess we have nothing to worry about." Anger flares bright, but it's short lived. It's hard to maintain anger at a featureless helmet, "Look. When we jump to hyperspace it just happens right? It happens so fast that we can't even think of it. The computer can see it a little bit--" "The ratty data," says Mando, "Right after a jump you get a bunch of nonsense. The nav-comp just logs it as noise--" "You've noticed! Most people don't give it a thought!" And you feel yourself smiling despite the situation you're in, "It's not noise! That's when you pass through the shallows. There's real space and there's hyperspace but there's a membrane between them--" "So we're caught in this membrane." "Yes. I think so. Kriff. I honestly don't know how we haven't just broken up." Mando nods. "I've got hull sensor warnings going off everywhere," he says, "Shields will only help for so long. We've got to get out of this lurch." "I can't reroute the controls," you shake your head, "The mains are all slagged. Everything overloaded when we jumped." "I still have some maneuverability--" "The secondary thrusters," you say, "It's an independent system. But we've got to save that. That's all we've got control over right now. If I could--" "What do we do?" You bury your face in your hands, and that makes the sideways-upward-nowhere lurch and shimmy seem a little less, your eyes and your inner-ears not arguing for a few seconds. Mando rests his hand on your shoulder. "Cyare. What do we do?" "I don't know."

"Look," you say. Some time has passed. You're not sure how much. "I can force us into real space, but it means cutting the the mains off. You might have to fix the lurch with the secondaries. I think I can bring the mains back online, but the hyperdrive--" "What about the hyperdrive?" "The intakes are fused open," you say, "The only way we can shut it down is to blow the tanks and vent the fuel into space. It'll go into shutdown on its own. It's a hard failsafe." "We dump the hyper fuel and we'll be stranded wherever we drop out," "Yeah." "This is it? This is all you've got?" And you can't look at him, you can't look at the blank of his visor and his hands planted on his hips. You turn tail and run into the bowels of the ship, closing the bulkheads behind you. You fetch up near the main engines, hear them misfiring and trying to spool back up, listen to the drone of the machinery that is going to kill you, bury you face in your hands and cry as hard as you've been trying not to this last endless day. It doesn't even sound like you, what comes out of your throat, the wail of a baby forgotten in it's crib. There's nothing more you can do.

He regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth, sees the flinch, the flash of hurt across your face and then your back as you run from him, bulkheads sealed before he can even think to chase you. He uses the manual override on the doors. This ship is big, far too big for two people, he thinks and not for the first time. He finds you in the engine access bay, pressed against the bulkhead, tucked into yourself, curled up tight.

"I can't fix it," you say, "That last shot before we jumped hit just right. Fused most of our avionics up solid. I can't--I can't-- even if I had a bay with all the parts and mech droids-- this is--I don't know what else to do." Mando lays his hand on your shoulder, a light, hesitant touch. "This is a one in a million thing--I don't--" "It's okay," says Mando. "I can't fix it," "It's okay," he curls his hand lightly around the nape of your neck and gives you a little shake. You lean back into him, feel the cold beskar at your back. You're so tired, more tired than you can ever remember feeling, and his arms come up around you, wrap over your own, he rocks you like one would a child. Grogu's not here. Thank the force for small mercies.

"Do we dump the fuel first or cut off the engines?" "Fuel," you say, "If we blow the tanks in real-space it'll just tumble us worse." "How do we do it?" Asks Mando,"We can't spacewalk out there. Not like this." "Belly turret," you say, "Pull up the cannons all the way and you should be able to hit the outboard tank housing." "So we shoot ourselves in the ass." Says Mando. And you feel a smile creeping up your tear-streaked face. "Yep. We shoot ourselves in the ass. Once the pressure drops we'll hear the hyperdrive go into shutdown right before we drop. I'll kill the mains and then you'll have to use the secondary thrusters to pull us out of the lurch." "This is a bad idea." "You got a better one?" "No. You ready?" "Kriff. I guess."

It worked. You didn't expect it to. The drop into real space was rough but Mando had managed to right the ship. After much cursing and cajoling, the main engines had come back online, and now you sit on the cold deck plating with the guidance board held in your hand, rerouted to back up power via a long, much spliced cable, fed back into one of the few working displays via a slightly less tortured cable. Mando sits like a statue in the pilot's chair as you bring up one star-chart after another, desperately hoping something will line up, anything that can give you a reference, some idea of where you've fetched up. "No," says Mando. "ok now?" "No." "Now?" "No." The guidance board by itself is a dumb data repository. Without the Mudhorn's main computer up you have to bring up one file at a time, and wait for the external sensors to catch up. "Now?" "No." "Now?" "No." The main computer could do this in a couple heartbeats, but the main computer is a useless brick at the end of a slagged cable wired into a half-melted board. There is only so much you can do. You've hardwired a keypad into the guidance board, typing grid-coordinates in manually, squinting at a sheet of flimsi you found tucked behind the board when you'd yanked it out. "Now?" "No." "Now? "No." "Now?" "Stop." "What? You've got something?" "This isn't going to work--" "It will! We just have to keep at it!" "Cyare. It's been almost two days. We need to stop." "If I could just figure out where we are--" "And do what? We're broadcasting our position," he says, "Someone will hear the distress signal or they won't." "If I can figure out where we are we could at least aim ourselves someplace," you say but you know there's no point to it. Hyperspace has made the galaxy feel small, but it is not. This system you've fetched up in is far from habitable, a young star with a broad accretion disk, spewing radiation, nothing to indicate that anyone's ever been here. Traveling sublight? Coruscant could one system over and you and Mando would be desiccated mummies before you ever got there. Still, your fingers move over the keypad.

"Now? Now? Mando, now?" And all you get back is static. You keep punching the numbers and calling over comms until you hear his footfalls, glance up from the board to see his offered hand. "It's time to stop," he says, and you let him pull you up from the cold deck-plating, from the hastily assembled control board and ugly snaked cable, his hand folded around yours. "Are you hungry? Can you eat?" You shake your head. "Maybe some broth," you say and paw at the tears that build up in your eyes. You're not like this. You don't cry like this. You don't fall apart like this and here you are in the space of two days, or is it three? Or four now? Cracking open and leaking out. Mando lays his hand on your back and steers you to the galley. You can't look at him. He presses the steaming cup into your hands. "Mando? I'm sorry." His chest constricts. Death has followed him as far back as he can remember, nearly catching him on Aq Vetina, filling his footsteps through the sands of Tatooine, clinging to his heels across a hundred worlds. He lives and breathes and hunts knowing that death has been his partner in the dance of his life since he swore the Creed. We burn bright and strong, and when death comes for us we embrace her and let her return us to the Manda. We take her hand. Unafraid. This is the Way. He has lived on borrowed time since he swore the Creed and took up the armor. But you never made that deal. You've fallen asleep with your face in your arms, empty bowl at your elbow. "Cyare," he touches your elbow, and you blink up at him, and you are tired, worn down to your bones. He offers his hand.

He doesn’t say anything. Just leads you through the belly of the ship and to his berth, a steadying hand against the small of your back. You’ve bunked together before. The time when he fell through the ice on Arliss and you warmed him the only way you knew how, pulled all his wet gear off and left it heaped on the deck plating, save for his helmet and curled yourself around him. The time you caught sick after a layover on Kijimi, he kept you close while you shivered, hands warm against your skin in the pitch dark. And then there was the botched job on Florrum. You'd boosted with blaster shots still ringing against the hull and then collapsed into each other, his breath coming hard and ragged through the outputs of his helmet, clinging together, your blood singing in your ears in time, rolling hard and desperate inside, you shattered and then you slept together, wrapped in the glow of hyperspace. Nothing said after, nothing needed. We are here. We're still here.

You understand this for what it is. This need to be close, but when the door shuts behind you he doesn't douse the lights. Instead of the usual stripping of his armor, he reaches up for his helmet and you twist away, cramming your eyes shut. "Mando! Your Creed--" "The Creed is broken," he says, and his voice, unmodulated, is warm and uncertain, and laden with grief, "The Child is gone. But we're still here. Aren't we?" He cups your cheek in his calloused palm, and you lean into him, feel slow tears slip from your eyes. "Yeah. I guess we are." For now, you think but don't say, and turn your eyes up to meet his. And Maker and Force and Stars, he is not how you imagined, eyes deep and beautiful and dark and tired, stitched around with wrinkles, worry lines tracing his forehead, dark grey-shot curls sticking up in every direction. Uneven mustache and scruffy jaw, full lips quirked into a one-sided smile. "Hi," he says, and those dark eyes shine with unshed tears. "Hi yourself," you say, and your impulse is to reach for him as you have in the dark, but you curl back, and his hands find your wrists and circle them, guides your hands to his face. He closes his eyes when you touch him, leans into your palms, stays still as you trace the strong line of his nose, the gentle curve of his lower lip, the lush softness of his curls, sweep the tears away with your thumbs. You press your forehead to his, the same way he's done for you, cool beskar steel on warm skin, and then press your lips to the upturned corner of his mouth and he flinches back. You try to draw away, his hands still circling your wrists, your hands curled into fists, "I'm sorry--" But he doesn't let you retreat, cradles your hands in his, smoothes your fingers open to lace together with his, holds your hands against the armor that shields his heart. "Can you... do that again?" "Yeah," you say, and press your lips to his, "We've got all the time in the world."

#din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #year of kisses #year of themed creation #year of themes 2023

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queen-of-the-avengers · 7 months

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The Avengers: Part Eight

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You, Tony, and Steve get up and run out of the lab. Fury groans and sits up painfully. Emergency alarms are set off, fire extinguishers activate near surrounding fires, and every agent is in a spinning scramble for their positions and weapons. Maria is on the bridge trying to keep things as calm as possible.

"Hill?!" Fury shouts into his earpiece.

"Turn up that engine! Number Three engine is down! Can we get a run-in?" Maria turns to the Galaga player. "Talk to me."

"The turbine's loose. It's mostly intact, but it's impossible to get out there and make repairs while we're in the air."

"If we lose one more engine, we won't be. Somebody's got to get inside and patch that engine," Maria says into her earpiece.

"Stark! Y/N! You two copy that?!"

"We're on it!" you shout.

"Coulson! Initiate an official lockdown in the detention section then get to the armory! Move out!"

"Find engine three. I'll meet you there," Tony says and breaks off from you and Steve.

You rush over to the engine room and force the door open with your inhuman strength. The entire room is blown to bits and instead of looking at a secure room, you're looking at the sky.

"Stark, we're here!" Steve yells over the noise from the engine.

You jump off the edge into the sky and fly away to see what the damage is from a distance. It doesn't look good.

"Good. Let's see what we got," Tony says when he flies next to you. Tony has Jarvis to show him the damaged engine and its layout while you can only see what's in front of you. "I gotta get this superconducting cooling system back online before I can access the rotors and work on dislodging the debris."

"What do you want me to do?" you ask him.

He yanks on one of the stuck rotors

"I need you to get to that engine control panel and tell me which relays are in overload position," Tony says to Steve. Your friend jumps to a hanging pipe and uses that to haul himself onto a higher landing where the control panel is. "You have air powers. Use them. Wait for my signal."

"You got it," you nod.

Tony flies into the giant cooling conductors just as Steve opens the control panel.

"What's it look like in there?" Tony asks Steve.

"It seems to run on some form of electricity."

"Well, you're not wrong." Tony blasts his way through the metal debris and gets to where the blades are. "Even if I clear the rotors, this thing won't re-engage without a jump. You're up, Y/N."

"You're going to need to push it, Tony. I'll be able to use the wind you're creating to keep it going," you say and fly down to underneath the rotors where the blades are.

"If that thing gets up to speed, you'll get shredded," Steve says.

"Stay in the control unit and reverse polarity long enough to disengage mag--"

"Speak English!"

Tony sighs. "See that red lever?" Steve looks around to see a red lever across the wreckage from him. "It'll slow the rotors down long enough for me to get out. Stand by it and wait for my word."

You hear the hum of a fighter jet and look behind you to see one heading to the front of the ship where there is a huge glass dome. From where you are, you can see Thor and Hulk fighting each other. You'd help but you have more pressing issues than that. Tony uses his red laser like he used when fighting Ivan Vanko to break off the debris stuck between the blades.

"Tony, you ready?" you ask. Suddenly, you hear gunshots come from your earpiece. You've been hearing it since the explosion but this time is different because you can hear Steve's grunts. "Steve! Are you okay?"

"I'm good! Focus on the engine!"

You're not sure what is happening in there, but something causes all the engines to power down so that the huge helicarrier is now freefalling back down to the surface.

"Tony! Get that engine moving!"

You fly down far enough and raise your hands to the falling ship. Wind circles you faster and faster as you create a column of air to try and keep the ship afloat. It's going to take a lot more wind than what you're giving, but if you give too much then you'll start to create storms that will affect millions of people down below.

Steve is doing his best to keep Loki's men at bay by shooting at them using one of their own guns. One of the bullets from Loki's men flies past Steve and right at you. The bullet goes through your upper arm which causes you to jerk back in surprise.

"Fuck!" you gasp and look at your bleeding arm.

The men continue to shoot at Steve who backs up to try and avoid the bullets when he steps on a loose piece of metal. He loses his footing and falls backward into the open air. He gasps and grabs one of the thick wires hanging out of the ship to save himself but it slips through his hand.

"Y/N!"

You look over to see Steve falling without a parachute. In a flash, Steve becomes Bucky, and you're brought back to your past.

Bucky's hands are slipping off the metal bar he's clinging so hard to because he can't hold his own weight anymore. He's going to die in this moment, he knows. One of his hands slips off right before the other one does. You jump out of the moving car and fly down to him. He only falls a few feet when you catch him. He looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

"Did you really think I'd let you fall?" you chuckle.

You start to fly him up toward the speeding train but you're never able to get to it. Someone from either down below or in the mountains shoots at you with the same weapons as the mysterious man inside the train. You dodge one of them only to be hit with another one. You're forced to let go of Bucky's hand as you go crashing into the side of the mountain.

Your crash site makes a huge hole in the side of the mountain, and you weakly crawl to the edge to see where Bucky went.

"Bucky!!" you cry out.

You jump out of the hole and go flying down to the base of the mountain, but before you can get too far, more shots are fired at you. Whoever is shooting at you clearly doesn't want you to go down there. Bucky is most likely dead, and if you continue down there, then you will be too.

"Steve!" you gasp. You let the others fend for themselves as you fly down to save your best friend. You grab his hand and pull him up to you so that he is no longer freefalling. "I got you. You're okay. I got you."

You fly Steve back up to the falling helicarrier when Steve yells out in fear.

"Watch out!

You look up to see the glass cell Loki was in fall right toward you two. You immediately move out of the way so you're not hit by it, and you briefly make eye contact with Thor who is trapped inside.

"What the hell is going on up there?"

"Y/N! I could use a bit of air right now!" Tony says. "Cap, I need the lever!"

"You're gonna have to give us a second!"

"Lever! Now!"

"Get the lever! I'll get this guy!"

You practically toss Steve back onto the platform with the red lever while you use your air powers on the shooter. You sweep his feet right from underneath him and blast him back into the wall behind him. Steve yanks the lever down so that Tony is ejected from the engine below. Once he regains his balance, he flies up to you and Steve.

Loki is gone. The scepter is gone. Clint is back and is recovering from the mind control. Bruce is nowhere to be found. Thor may or may not be dead. They found out why the whole system was failing and got everything back online. The only good thing about all this is that the fight is over. You lean against the wall with a sigh and look at Steve who looks exhausted.

"Agent Coulson is down," Fury's voice comes through the earpiece. "Paramedics are here. They called it."

Tears stream down your face for your lost friend. The only ones left on the ship are you, Tony, and Steve. Natasha is taking care of Clint who is having a hard time coming back from Loki's mind control. Everyone is working to get the helicarrier back in working order while still giving you four privacy at the long table.

"These were in Coulson's jacket." Fury tosses bloody Captain America trading cards over to Steve. "Guess he never did get you to sign them." Steve picks up the cards with a pained look on his face. "We're dead in the air up here. Our communications and the location of the cube, Banner, and Thor are unknown. I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming." You look at Fury who looks defeated. "Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier." He walks around to behind you and places his hands on the back of your chair. "There was an idea, Stark and Y/N know this, called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more. To see if they could work together when we needed them to. To fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea of heroes." Tony gets up and immediately leaves the room. He doesn't want to hear it anymore. "Well, it's an old-fashioned notion."

"Listen, I know Tony can be a hard-head and an asshole sometimes, but he's a really good guy. He's a good friend. What he said to you before was out of line. You're so much more than what put in you."

"Thank you, but it didn't bother me much."

"Yes, it did," you chuckle.

"Okay, maybe a little."

Tony is very upset over Phil and this whole situation so you and Steve follow him to the containment center where Loki once was. Instead of a glass cell, it's an empty room with a big hole in the ground. The rift is closed so it's eerily quiet in here. There is a bloodstain on the wall where Phil was murdered.

"Was he married?" Steve asks.

"No, there was a cellist... I think."

"I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man."

"He was an idiot," Tony scoffs, "for taking Loki on alone."

"He was doing his job."

"He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have--"

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony," Steve sighs. "Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"

Tony sharply turns to Steve angrily.

"We are not soldiers!"

"I am."

"I am not marching to Fury's fife!" Tony shouts.

"Neither am I! He's got the same blood on his hands as Loki does. Right now, we've got to put that aside and get this done. Now, Loki needs a power source. If we can put together a list--"

"He made it personal," you cut Steve off.

"That's not the point."

"That is the point. I know Loki better than everyone. Think what you want about him but he is a major diva. He craves attention because he wants to be seen."

"She's right," Tony backs you up. "He hit us all right where we live. Why? He had to conquer his greed, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us and he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience. Y/N is absolutely right. Loki's a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built in the skies with his name plastered..."

"Son of a bitch!" you and Tony say at the same time. "He's at Stark Tower. We need everyone we can on this. I'll get Nat and Clint."

You leave the containment center and head to the medical wing where Clint is receiving treatment from his best friend. You knock twice on the door before entering. Natasha is sitting on the bed. Clint is nowhere in sight but the sound of the facet running suggests he is in the bathroom.

"Hey, we gotta go. Are you okay?"

"Go where?" she asks, ignoring your other question.

"Stark Tower. We think that's where Loki is opening his portal. Can you fly one of those jets?"

"I can," Clint says when he walks out of the bathroom.

"Are you okay?"

"I guess," he shrugs.

"Listen, I've been messed with by Loki, too. Don't take it too personally."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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madmarchhare · 2 years

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Company Chapter 4: sci-fi story

Here is the latest chapter of Company! The first of the New year!

I hope you all like it, it was fun to right, though I am worried I didn't properly describe Las Paz station. This one gets a bit violent so be aware.

Also please leave comments, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

He got up to re-set the grid after about ten minutes, the monitors mostly coming back to life as soon as he did, though a few needed some specific attention to fix. The pipes needed longer, Wick having to power on a few electric radiators he built near the pipes for to thaw them. Cass was going around the ship, having pulled on a wool lined jacket on over herself, replacing the lightbulbs that had blew and picking up the shattered glass. It was worst in the engine room, a narrow space just under two shoulder width wide that the fuel pipes ended in, along with a wrist thick bunch of cables responsible for the problem. A few wires slit off the bunches to power the lights and panels in the room, and the high voltage of the wires had caused the lights to burst. Luckily the fuse boxes in the panels had saved them. Cass replaced the bar lights, slotting them into the spring loaded fixtures and replacing the fuses. She turned around, about to make her way out but then bashed her shit on a sharp metal box jutting out from the wall.

“Fuck!” she shouted, hunching over slightly, only just not dropping the box of bulbs, wincing as she clenched her shin with her free hand. She looked down at what had wounded her and saw that the thing had flopped open from the force revealing a wheel like frame with empty holes bar for two eight inch long pink rods that were about as thick as a cigar in two of the loops. She looked at it confused for a second then closed what she presumed was the lid and squeezed her way back through the door. She made her way back to the hold to put back box, giving a proud but wary glance to the pipe as she went past, the panel already back over the damaged section. Wick would need to replace that soon. Granted, what didn’t he need to replace? Cass though to herself.

As she descended the steps to the hold she felt the ship shudder forward then continue on at a steadily increasing pace. When she came back up to the living room she saw Wick fiddling with a fuse box near the cockpit door, his usual tired look on his face as he checked through the switches. “Hey Wick, what is that little box thing in the engine room. You know with the pink rods in it?” Cass asked, sliding into a chair.

“Oh those,” Wick mumbled back as he looked deeply into the fuse box, “they’re solid rockets for the RCS,” pulling his face out of the box as he closed it to turn to Cass. “There are a few of them dotted around the ship,” making a wide gesture with one arm as he spoke, walking over to the fridge.

“Wait, solid rockets? Don’t you need liquid ones? So you can control them?” Cass asked, looking at Wick with a concerned expression as the latter went over to the fridge and pulled out a sausage roll.

“The ones I use are eclectic solid propellants, so I can control when they burn with electricity. So I just made a system that works like a mechanical pencil to push them past a ring filled with current and it works fine. They are way cheaper than the liquid fuel RCS everyone else uses, I just buy rods of the stuff or a big block and cut it up,” he droned back, a note of pride buried within his pragmatism as he took a bite of his snack as he leant back on the counter.

Cass blinked at him, not quite sure how to respond, so just nodded slowly. “Right, well, the metal ring thing was nearly out of those rods in any case,” jerking a thumb back in the direction of the engines. Wick turned his head in the direction she gestured, his brows pressing together slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll need to try and buy some from this next station. I’m running low,” he replied scratching his neck with one hand as he flopped down into the chair. Cass mumbled out and agreement as she slumped out over the table, staring up at a set of poles that were moving about in the ceiling with a few mechanical clicks.

“I’m bored,” Cass blurted out staring at the wall, Wick turning to her with a blank expression.

“Play a game then,” Wick replied brusquely, taking another bite of his sausage roll as he finished.

“I don’t want to,” she replied simply.

“Then read a book or some manga,” he replied patiently.

“What would you recommend?”

“Well, for books there are few, like the detective Varg series, something from Tolkien or Terry Pratchett. Something by Issac Asimov?” Wick replied, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling as he tried to think of something to offer to the bored Neidr, who wore and indecisive expression in response.

“What about the manga?” she said in response, resting her chin on the table as she cocked her head to look up to Wick.

“Well, there’s Mashle, which is quite good, Samurai 8, My Hero Academia and Vigilantes among others…” Wick listed trailing off as he counted out the recommendations on his fingers. Cass seemed to mull the decision over, shifting her jaw as she considered it.

“I’ll read Mashle then,” she declared firmly, sitting back up in her chair. Wick nodded and walked off to collect them. Cass waited by herself in the living room for a few minutes, taking out swing top bottle of water from the fridge and pouring the cold liquid down her throat with a pleasant sigh. Wick came in just as she sat back down carrying a trio manga books in one hand as he read from a green pocket sized book in his other hand, placing the stack in front of Cass, a small debit card sized scrap of card on top intended as a bookmark.

“There you are,” he mumbled to her as he flopped down onto one of the sofas, turning the page of his book as he did.

“Thank you,” she replied in a sing song tone, opening the first volume with as she smiled, “what are you reading by the way?” she asked idly, Wick turning an eye over to her then to the cover of his book.

“’The Cossacks’, by Tolstoy. It’s good,” he replied matter-o-factly as they both set themselves to their reading.

They whittled away at the desolate time until the station, playing card, reading, playing games or doing maintenance inside the ship, Wick correcting his spreadsheet in his office to take account of some of the damages. Then the ship slowed to a halt with the usual alarm that signalled the course had been executed. Wick went into the cockpit to steer the sip closer, the view of the station coming fully into view. Las Paz station was colossal structure, far larger than St Edmund, made of a large cylindrical shaft surrounded by a large ring that as long as the central cylinder, covered in solar panels that glinted in the light, large sectors painted a ruby red colour. Small ships buzzed around the station, dashing in and out of various bays, illuminated by the slowly rotating lights of the station. As he brought the ship closer Cass came through to the cockpit, standing just behind him.

“The best place is on the 20th level, the docking bay’s there,” she stated, pointing to the right side of the station. Wick nodded and moved closer too it, occasionally glancing over to the various workers out on the stations exterior, seemingly scraping ice or dust off the solar panels and repainting the red sections of the station, or more notable the white sign above the docking bay he was heading too. The suited man turned around to look at them as they approached, gripping onto the hand rail with one hand as he held his brush in the other as the doors below him split open, white hot light pouring out from them. Wick pulled the ship into the dock, landing in an open space. The dock was a grand expanse, twice or more the size of St. Edmunds dock, with grand steel pillars that crested over the ceiling, wrapped in neat white paint, glowing advertisements flickering as they hung from the ceiling and walls.

“Triples here I presume?” Wick asked chuckling slightly as he got up from his chair.

“No, just standard fare here,” Cass replied strolling into the living room where she had laid out her stuff, ready to transfer into her new ship as soon as she got it. “They automated fare’s here way before I ever came, corruption scandal came down on it same time as the mining company down on the planet took over security. So they just laid them all of and automated it, cheaper in the end I suppose,” she said, her voice slightly uncertain as Wick gave a nod, not quite of agreement, more acceptance, “There isn’t any calibre restrictions on the station by the way, though you’ll get checked more if you take anything larger than a pistol so…” she added shrugging, pre-empting Wick’s next question. He looked over to his collection of pistols on the well, mulling over what to take before finally picking up a S&W K-frame ‘Pinto’ revolver in .38 Special. It was beautiful piece, one he won… well, best to not say where, that had two different finishes on it, with a nickelled frame and blued cylinder and barrel. He picked out a handful or two of cartridges and dumped them into a pack that he pulled on, along with the holster, which was tucked under his arm.

“You all right going to buy your ship yourself? I need to get some supplies for the ship,” Wick asked, dropping rounds into the chambers of his cylinder, then pressing it shut as he slid it into his holster, shifting his jacket properly back over his shoulders.

“Of course, I know my way around the station, you’re the one who’s new here,” Cass replied cheekily, grinning at him as she finished.

“No, I meant how you are shit at buying ships. The last two you had help with after you bought the ‘Wistful’,” Wick replied deadpan, though wincing slightly as he mentioned the ship.

“Oh, yes…” she replied, a considering look on her face, seeming to consider something deeply, “I’ll be fine,” she announced proudly, “probably,” she added slightly uncertain. Wick looked at her with a tired expression, before sighing.

“Ring me if you need help,” he called out as he went over to the airlock, setting up his usual anti-burglar system.

“Right,” Cass replied, opening the airlock door and stepping down the steps onto the dock floor, “do you know where to go for your supplies though?”

“I’ll find what I’m looking for, just need to have a look,” Wick muttered back, coming down the stairs, turning to the electric clerk, a small metal post resembling a ticket meter in a car park. He tapped the thing on the side and it plinked into life, demanding its fare as soon as it did. He shoved in the money then turned back to Cass as they both made their way forward towards the left exit of the dock. It took them a while to cross the wide space, and then they were let through the gate with naught but a cursory glance from a guard at the gate holding a polymer rifle and a grim expression, sucking one of his teeth.

The ceiling seemed to drag itself onward into the sky far more than you would think possible, floors were stacked on the walls, criss-crossing catwalks and rail-cars hanging overhead clattering underfoot or rattling with the trains and mining carts. People thronged through the streets, dressed in all manner of clothes, with all manner of faces. Noise buzzed through the place, every moment consumed by a devils dozen of shouts, conversations, songs or the disgruntled mumblings of the buildings themselves as people and vehicles raced by.

“Well, I’ll see you later then,” Cass yelled to Wick over the din, “hope you find what you’re looking for!”

“I will, you worry about yourself,” Wick called back casually, turning away as he waved to her over his shoulder, slouching slightly as he walked forward. He wandered around for a while, looking about at various maps as he tried to figure out where commercial districts are. He found an electronics shop after a decent amount of time and pushed open the door of the place. It was a small, dimly lit space, the front storefront being about five meters square, maybe less, crowded full of shelves. A rotund looking man with small eyes was leant up against the counter, offering something of a smile to the other occupant. A young… Man?... I suppose was right. He, as was clear by his appearance, had undergone one of the surgeries that made it’s recipients more ‘animal like’ as was the best way to describe it. They were… An interesting demographic, some had it done for work so they had some extra strength or the like others to have a fresh identity at a lower cost than normal surgery. Ad some just did it cause they wanted too. They were mostly fine, Wick having no more a problem with them than anyone else, but a few people… weren’t so keen from any reason from the expected to the odd.

Wick walked over to the counter, the cashier looking up to him as he straightened up. Wick went over his list of parts he needed, the cashier, who seemed to be the owner, nodded as he listened to the list occasionally stating that he didn’t stock something. When Wick had finished his list and heard the prices he waited as the younger clerk went into the back to fetch them for him, packing up a few items to cart over to his ship. They younger man was much taller and thinner than the owner, his face resembling some breed of wolf, covered in cloud-like fur dressed in the store’s grey and red uniform. Overall, the price was cheap, Wick being handed back a bag of bulb, chips most of the capacitors he needed along with a dozen or more so things the ship had used up for maintenance. He gave a curt nod to the pair and walked back out of the shop brushing past a tall man in a pressed grey suit.

Next, he went into a builders merchant, ordering a number of pipes to be delivered to his ship, along with trying to snatch up a few environmental plates, but, again, none were the right size. He got some more of the ESP he used from a chemical supplier along with some more gunpowder, and more ammunition etc. It was late in the day, when he made his way into a small off-licence nestled into a dim corner of the level. It was pressed into the corner of a street, a thing doorway leading into a larger space filled with fluorescent lighting. He strolled around the shelves, lifting a few bottles of the shelves as well as a six pack of French lager, Saint Bertin they were called, adorable squat green bottles with white caps as well as some bread and other supplies taking five packs of cigarettes from the counter and adding them onto the stack of items, getting a slightly amused but understanding look from the cashier from under his mess of hair. Wick handed over the money and left without a word, rubbing his eyes as he strolled down the street, quite exhausted.

He spotted a bench nestled into a small open space a few hundred paces away, out of the view of people. He strolled over to it and dropped himself down onto the metal frame, sighing as he did. He opened one of the cigarette packets and pulled one out, plopping it into his mouth as he fished around in his pocket for his lighter. After searching for a moment he pulled out a small silver zippo painted with a small picture of Niagara falls on one side, he flicked it open then sparked it on, holding the small orange flame to its head, breathing in slightly to light it, letting it dip into his lungs as he stared across from him tiredly, letting the smoke billow out of his mouth slowly. He snapped it closed with one hand then tucked it back into his pocket. He gazed ahead of him, not looking at anything in particular, thinking about a few dozen things at once. He fixed his gaze onto a shiny steel plate in front of him, polished till it reflected him in it’s face, barely a meter from him. He shifted in his seat, getting himself comfy, and then noticed, reflected in the mirror a pistol moving closer toward the back of his head from the pitch black space behind him.

He dived to the side just as it went off, taking a decent part of his ear lobe with it, sending it ringing as he felt blood drip down the side of his head. Wick jumped up to his feet, knocking over his bag as he did, keeping himself low as he reached for his revolver, but then suddenly felt someone grab him pull him into a grapple, constraining his chest with broad arms stuffed into a pressed grey suit. A thinner man jumped out from the space behind the bench holding a black polymer pistol, a wispy moustache on his face split by a horizontal scar that went from his jaw to just above the opposite side of his lip. He twisted his face into a smile.

“I presume out friend at St. Edmunds mentioned we were coming? Guess you were too stupid to listen,” he called out a smarmy expression on his face, Wick grimacing as he felt the buff man’s grip getting tighter, “though I suppose that’s to be expected. If you were smart, you would have kept your nose out of this altogether,” he added, pointing the pistol at Wick’s head.

Wick glowered at him, then quite suddenly, slammed hi heel into the ankle of the buff man, making him twist over in pain, as he loosed his grip. Wick jabbed his elbow into the man’s chest and pulled himself free as he reached for his pistol, but received a hard punch in the other side of his ribs in response, winding him. He glanced over to the thinner man stood to the side of him and his partner, pointing his pistol at Wick’s chest. He dodged a heavy punch from the bigger man, getting into the man’s blind spot, which he presumed was the side bearing a hollow cavity where an eye socket must have once belonged. He then darted over to the thinner man, who missed a shot as he came closer which slammed into the wall panel of the building behind them. Wick threw a hard punch as the man, which he quickly guarded, then finding a hand kick on his knee, making him fall down. He then punched the thin man on the side of the jaw, nocking him out, just as he flet himself being grabbed and tossed over to the bench by the buff man. His spine clicked unpleasantly as it struck the metal frame, wincing a he stared up at the large man approaching him with a malicious expression, until he reached for his revolver and tugged at the heavy double action trigger until it flung a .38 calibre hollow point into the mans head, making him stop in place, teetering on his own feet until he slumped over, blood polling below him as Wick stared and the mangled exit wound on the back of his head, breathing heavily.

He pulled himself to his feet, grunting as he pressed a hand to his back. He stood up and collected everything back into his bag then began walking away, pointing his revolver at the unconscious man as he walked by, cocking the hammer with his thumb, then firing it into his chest a bored, yet irritated expression on his face as he bit back down on his now bent cigarette. He decided to go back to the docks, opening the cylinder of his revolver as he walked, tucking the handle of the bag in the inside of his elbow as he removed the two spent cases and replaced them with fresh ones, pressing it back closed as soon as he did, rattling the spent cases in the pocket of his cargo trousers. He walked for a while, wincing as his back and chest ached, feeling his ear bleed down the side of his head, staining the collar of his shirt. Then he saw a clump of people dressed in grey suits, or grey jackets, strolling around, a few with carbines and weapons on their backs. One spotted Wick, a shortish woman with black hair pulled into a loose ponytail and gestured him out to the others, Wick promptly turning on his heel and picking up his pace in a different direction.

As he walked he swapped the bag over to his left hand as he reached into his jacket for his revolver, holding it in his had as he let his arm hang by his side. He strode forward through the crowd in the direction of the docks, not quite running, but not just walking either. He heard them coming after him, either matching or exceeding his pace, slowly getting closer. He continued this for a while, getting closer to the dock, then suddenly spun around, bringing up his revolver and firing at the chest of the largest man, who was carrying an M4 carbine on his back. He promptly dropped to the floor, gasping for air, the rest of them reaching for their weapons as they ducked down, the crowd being flung into panic, running away from the scene, or straight through it. Wick dashed away, occasionally spinning around to fire a shot or two at his pursuers, one remaining with the large man at the start with a panicked expression.

Wick continued at a hurried pace, spitting out his spent cigarette and racking his bag onto his shoulder as he opened the cylinder of his revolver and dumped out all the spent brass, not bothering to collect it for reuse, pressing in six new rounds into the chambers and snapping it shut, cocking the hammer. A few people gave him looks as he continued, ranging from terror, to fury, to mild irritation. They all dashed away, a few running up too guards, who glanced over to Wick with deadpan expressions, then over to his pursuers. They all disregarded their concerns a few turning over to Wick, with considering looks, debating whether to deal with him, but deciding against it when they saw him firing his revolver back after him, the short barrel spitting out a roar of muzzle flash with every shot.

His pursuers fired a few rounds after him, missing due to the chaos, not having a clear shot and either hitting the wall or some unfortunate person who was too slow to flee. Then a round ripped through the top of Wicks shoulder, near the handles of his bag, making him grunt out in pain as he ran forward to the docks, another bullet flying through his thigh, making him fall to a knee as it gave out. He span round his arm as he fell, firing a pair of rounds at the closest pursuer, who had shot him, the first one missing but the other one landing just below the sternum. Wick pulled himself back up to his feet as the other man collapsed to the ground, gripping at his chest as blood drained out of it. Wick ran as fast as he could, his wounded leg slowing him slightly as he dragged himself past the guard, who barely offered him an uninterested glance after he saw Wick’s pursuers.

Wick weaved between the parked ships as he went, hearing the rounds scattering off the steel behind him as he heard them shout after him ,slowly getting closer as the crack of gunfire rang throughout the dock. He felt his legs ache underneath him, his wounded limb throbbing as his shoulder smarted rudely, making him hiss in pain as he pushed himself further and further to his ship. He saw his ship finally come into view just then, as his pursuers came close. He dashed up to his ship, disabling the trap before he flung open the airlock door. He pulled himself up into the narrow room, grabbing a small table inside it and laying it down in front of the door as he grabbed the shotgun off it’s mount and pointed it out of the airlock and fired in the rough direction of his pursers, making them all duck down or dive behind cover. He ran into the living room, dropping the shotgun on the sofa as he grabbed the first rifle he saw off the wall, a Dutch 1895 Mannlicher. He grabbed a bundle of en bloc Mannlicher clips loaded in 6.5 Dutch, pressing one down into the rifles action as he dashed over to the airlock, pressing the bolt home, feeling its face snag the clips’ feed lips before pressing the light bullet into the chamber. He limped into the airlock, keeping himself low as peered over the overturned table at his assailant, now down to seven people. He shouldered the rifle, gripping the narrow rifle as he aimed it over the table onto one of the advancing gunmen. He squeezed the trigger, feeling it smoothly click between its stages dropping the rifles sear. The rifle thumped back into Wick’s shoulder, as the bullet tore through the breast of the foremost man, making him drop to the ground, the others diving behind whatever cover they could find. Wick ducked behind the doorframe, working the bolt of the rifle to rechamber a round, the spent brass skittering around the floor of the corridor as bullets pinged off the side of the ship or blew though the table.

Wick propped the rifle up for a second, having distracted them for now, reaching up to one of the shelves in the wall and pulling it out onto his lap, grabbing one of a dozen or so lengths of rubber tubing from it and tying it around his wounded leg as a tourniquet. He grunted in pain as he pulled it tight, seeing the blood slow around the wound, having already doused most of his leg red. He took a breath, glancing one eye around the corner of the door frame to the open deck outside the ship to see one of them running forward, trying to dive into a further bit of cover. He shouldered the rifle and aimed for the man, leading his shot slightly as he ran then fired, just as a bullet slammed into the steel above his head, making him jump and send the shot wide, grazing the man’s shoulder as he dived behind the cover. Wick ducked back behind, a second bullet clanging into the cabinets above him on the wall, a steel oxygen container falling out of it with a high pitched whistle from the puncture wound of the bullet. Wick peered round at the one who had fired, seeing a shorter woman wrapping her hands around a full size rifle, holding it spec-ops style as she glanced around her, checking her angles as she watched the airlock, a shorter man peering over the same cover they were behind, gripping a bulky pistol wearing a suit far too tight for him, being throttled by his collar as he tried to make himself look small.

Wick twisted around to fire another round at one of the further back gunmen, a younger looking woman who seemed slightly out of her depth, who received a fast bullet to the neck as she dawdled between cover, throwing her hands up to her neck as she fell on her side. Wick ducked back behind the frame but felt something slash across his side as steel shrapnel from the table lanced into it from a round fired by the first wounded man. Wick hissed in pain, grabbing at the shrapnel with two fingers and prying it out, squeezing his eyes shut as he did. He waited a while and tried again, a bullet slamming into the edge of the cover of the man and the woman, a set of cargo crates covered with ‘fragile’ labels. Another denting an upturned maintenance panel pried up from the floor a sixth man hid behind, his dark face half hidden by a blocky pair of sunglasses, firing a Glock back with little care for how many shots it would take him to hit his mark. Then a final round that dug into the foot of the seventh man, who bore a remarkable resemblance to the man from St. Edmund, stumbling as he almost fell to the ground just as Wick came upon an empty magazine.

He opened the rifle, slamming down another clip into the magazine then throwing the bolt closed as he brought the rifle back into his shoulder, rushing as he tried to hit the man as he ran to another clump of cates for cover. He fired and missed, the bullet ricocheting off the dock floor wildly, sending sparks flying. A bullet grazed by his neck just after, coming from the direction of the spec-op woman, who only missed his jugular as the shorter man bumped into her, having slipped. He worked the bolt as quickly as he could, cursing to himself as it caught on the clips feed lips, jerking it back-and-forth until it chambered a round, levelling a bullet on the short man beside the woman, now leaping out of cover over the front and firing a bullet into his crown, watching the fountain of blood raise from his forehead over the rifles barely-corn front sight. His body fell back on the woman, crushing her against the cover, making her lean over backwards, thrusting her rifle up out of the way as she tired to shove him off. Wick only head the sound of himself manipulating the bolt just before he put a round through the read of her jaw, making her fall still and drop her rifle.

The sixth man tried to run forward as spec-ops went down, running forward as he fired his pistol fully automatic as Wick, who ducked back behind the door frame, beathing heavily, feeling his neck ooze more blood down his collar, staining the front of his short and the woolled edge of his jacket collar. He made it within a twenty feet from the ship when his pistol locked itself open on a drained magazine, he threw a hand to his hip for a magazine and pressed it in just as he saw Wick’s rifle pointed to his chest. The round ripped through his sternum, crashing into his lungs not a moment later then digging itself into the soft steel underneath him. The other two, both now wounded men grabbed each other under the shoulder and began running away, firing back at Wick as they did. Wick aimed after them, trying to line up a shot but having to duck as bullets brackets around him.

The fourth round missed, zipping past them with a super sonic crack, as did the fifth, digging into the panels by one of their feet Wick hearing the en bloc clip fall to the floor from the magazine as he chambered the sixth round, letting out a slow exhale as he manoeuvred the sights of the back of the one he had legged earlier. The bullet span out of the barrel, wreathed in an orange boa of muzzle flash and burning gunpower, flying through the air light a sparrowhawk until it crashed uglily into the spine of the legged man, sending him to the cold ground before he had time to scream, gore soiling his pressed grey suit, throwing his arm and his pistol up into the air, the barrel covered with a tally of thirty-three. The one who had been hit in the shoulder let his friends body fall to the ground, sprinting hard as he dashed away. Wick gripped his rifle by the handguard, grabbing his revolver in his right hand, firing after the man, two shots missing before he laded on a dry cylinder, the hammer landing on a spent primer. He watched the man run behind a ship, clicking his tongue in regret, knowing he’d bring more.

Then he heard a shot come from the ship he ran behind, muzzle flash lighting up the space. Cass walked out of the space and looked over at Wick’s sip, offering a tired wave. Wick looked at her slightly incredulously, then smiled with a chuckle, returning the wave as he pushed against the wall to lift himself up. He grabbed his rifle, pulling the table back up against the wall, limping down the steps as Cass came closer.

“How has your day been?” Wick asked sardonically, seeing the bruises on her cheek and the bloody nose, along with all the ruffled clothes.

She took a breath, breathing out as she looked around at the bloody refuse around the ship, “active,” she replied brusquely, Wick chuckling in response, “you can relate it seems.”

“Yes, I believe I can,” Wick replied, sighing as did, “what happened with your ship then?” he asked, turning over to her.

“I got there, was looking at ships, when a group of twelve of those guys in grey jumped me,” Cass replied, sniffing slightly as she wiped some blood from her nostril.

“How’d you manage with that?” Wick asked, placing the butt of his rifle on the ground.

“I dealt with them all myself, what else,” she replied, smiling her Cheshire cat smile, cracking her knuckles, “all dozen of them shouldn’t be getting up again. Not unless it’s to see they river Stix they were going on about.” Wick looked at her slightly surprised, well, not truly and shook his head.

He pulled up his rifle, throwing it up then catching it in the middle, sliding open the bolt and loading a new clip, “you are a marvel,” he muttered with a tired smile as Cass looked at him slightly confused. Then he shouldered the rifle and fired it at a lone man in a grey suit, gripping an M4 equipped with a grenade launcher. He snapped open the bolt, letting the brass case fling out of the action and tinkle on the floor. He looked over to Cass with a smile, “eleven out of twelve then,” receiving a mildly annoyed look in response as he sat down on the steps up to the airlock, resting the butt of his rifle on his thigh, loading it then turning over the flag safety.

Then the taller boy from the electronics shop walked out of a small passage between a pair of ships by Wick’s, carrying a number of boxes. He looked around at the scene stunned, turning to the bodies with a petrified look, then back to us. “W-w-wha,” he stammered out.

“Perfect timing,” Wick declared grandly, “you can help us load up the supplies into the ship,” gesturing to his ship with a thumb as he spoke.

“Bu-but I was just here t-wh-what happened here?” he rambled out, seaming to shrink as he rambled.

“Lad,” Cass called out pleasantly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “the question you’re trying to ask is going to cost you far more than it’s worth…” letting her voice darken as the boy’s eyes flicked between Wick’s rifle and Cass’s pistol.

“…Right sir,” the boy replied after a moment in a gingerly sort of tone, readjusting his grip on the boxes as he carried it into the ship and placed it into the living room, coming back out to lift in the ones Wick declared as both he and Cass drank a bottle of the French larger Wick had bought, tending to their own wounds.

@agarespicero @gaap-goemon-ismylife @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @shark-smuggler @shax-lied @irumeanie

@sleepy-gry @pemopemochimi @csoisoi @crazyhorst @momonoki-a-real-teacher

@noyakwajhang @https-true-egoist

@namecrisis-lifecrisis

I'm Tired

#writblr #writers and poets #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #fiction #science fiction #company #Wick #Cass #HMAD

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my-timing-is-digital · 1 year

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Starter for @quantumstarpaths

Inertial dampeners were rendered inoperative. Life support was partially inoperative. The starboard warp nacelle had been penetrated and was rapidly being depleted of plasma as they spiralled down the planet’s atmosphere at a disconcertingly high velocity. What had commenced as a simple routine check of a nearby relay station had eventuated in a hostile confrontation — with a potentially lethal conclusion. A scout ship, emanating from the mother ship of the Emerald Chain, had attacked them out of nowhere; a chase had ensued and subsequently both vessels had tumbled into a spatial anomaly — an unstable wormhole, he surmised.

‘Attempting to compensate,’ the android shouted over the signature cacophony of a shuttlecraft being subjugated to the planet’s relentless gravitational pull, ‘rerouting auxiliary power to optimise deflector shield.’

‘Dad, they’re still gaining,’ Soji’s voice was drowned out by the occurrence of an electric discharge in the aft section of the shuttlecraft, the explosion that followed sprayed a cascade of sparks down the aisle behind them and spilled poisonous chemicals into the cockpit.

Data’s hands soared over the console, operating the holographic control panels with commendable dexterity in order to isolate the malfunction and circumvent the premature annihilation of the vessel. He was steadfast in his endeavour to preserve the integrity of the shuttlecraft long enough to witness the destruction of the scout ship prior to the inevitable decimation of their own. In addition, he ran an expeditious decontamination program to expel the toxic fumes from the vessel.

‘Doctor Culber, please administer these hyposprays to Commander Stamets and yourself,’ he said urgently as he proffered two hyposprays containing an effective medicinal compound that would prevent the disintegration of their DNA due to radioactive exposure. ‘Soji, initiate evasive manouevres. Perhaps we can discontinue their pursuit by luring them into the alpine biome below,’ he added as the shuttlecraft promptly dropped out of the thick blanket of clouds.

Evasive manouevres were challenging to initiate when the majority of the systems were offline or relayed inconclusive data and he was cognisant of that. However, it was their only opportunity to rid themselves of the aggressors and to ascertain their position in relation to the Discovery, without their efforts continuously being impeded by the enemy. It was a risky strategy; one infinitesimal miscalculation and they could end up blown to smithereens atop one of the rugged mountain ridges. However, he had faith in Soji’s scrupulous abilities as a pilot, besides, he and the others were present to correct any defects that could jeopardise the success of the opted itinerary — statistically speaking, there was a 30% probability they could survive their next course of action.

Within mere seconds, the shuttlecraft was evading mountain peaks and descended rapidly to the planet’s surface, taking advantage of the failing propulsion systems to shake off their pursuers as they navigated their way through the hazardous and untamed congregation of solid rock and serrated glaciers...

#quantumstarpaths #verse // to unpath'd waters undream'd shores #ooc: away mission shenanigans here we gooooo!

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hazelhavoc · 1 year

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Unexepected (Halo/Transformers Crossover)

At some point, Glint was hoping not to be caught off guard by the universe. First, a huge civil war on her planet. Then that planet dying? What more could go wrong?

She should have held her glossa!

What was it that humans said? Oh yes- she jinxed herself!

All she wanted was to find the planet that the distress beacon was coming from. It was supposed to be a quick quantum jump- but it looks like Primus has other plans for her when the jump goes haywire and she's suddenly somewhere not planned. She'd set coordinates and everything! Now she's in some unknown system, by herself, with energon reserves meant for the ones that she was going to go scout for in the local solar system of the humans.

Now she's off course and doesn't know where she is!

Being pulled in by the gravitational pull of this ring type planet? Some kind of space station but Earth looking continents on the inside!

The mini-bot can feel energon pump through her lines in panic and adrenaline, pulling up quickly to make the descent at least a twinge less violent- to keep damage to a minimum- and keep herself online. In short, the landing is rough but was as good as it could get with the disoriation of arriving somewhere unknown and the pull of gravity in the descent onto this strange ring formation.

Glint grips the edges of the array in front of her, dizzy from the adrenaline and heavy panic she felt (and is still feeling). The ringing of alarms is muffled in her audials as she forces herself to sit up and assess the damage. Resisting the urge to heave out her tank- she shakily brings up the damages of her vessel. The orbital barriers that are used for meteror showers kept most of the damage to the minimum. The thrusters are fine, but there is some large electrical isses under the ship thanks to crashing front first into the rocky terrian of this...ring.

The autobot rests her helm in her servos, shuddering as silent panic overtakes her. Wings wound tightly behind her, EM field pressed close to her frame. "I-I'm so scrapped..." She dry muses, vocal receptors weak- static heavily covering her words. Coolant builds on the edges of her optics but she sucks it up. She's been online for 9 million years, and has fought in a war for 4 million. She's a Communication's Officer, a soldier (though not fit for fighting much larger bots than her). Calm down, you can do this. Just need to check damages and try to send out a message to the Autobot's. An underlying fear of Decepticon's being here hangs in the back of her processor.

Anxiously, she gets up from her pilots seat. Luckily, she is the only one in this vessel...and it's relatively small (for her size) so it's just the right fit.

Flinching, she grabs onto the chair, steadying herself. She needs to calm down...you need to go out and check how much damage there is with your own optics. Carefully, she initiates for the landing pedes to lift the ship. There is some groaning, and the ship shifting slowly before another shudder runs through it as it stops.

That's not good...

Glint quickly scans the outside of the ship, looking for motion and the like- nothing. The femme tries not to let her paranoia control her as she worriedly runs to the entrance of the ship. Opening it up, pulling her energon pistol from her subspace just in case. Heading outside, she looks around. Green, earthly terrain...but this is not Earth obviously. With some caution, she closes her ship when she steps out and quickly trudges to the front of the ship. It's been partially lifted thanks to the pede- but it does seem broken too thanks to the rough landing. With wings still tight up her backstrut, she carefully starts to scan the smoking panels. Deciding not to go under the ship when it could fall at anytime. She needs to find something to keep it held up before she attempts repair under this vessel lest she wants to get crushed.

"I hope whatever lives here ignores the big crash...but that's unlikely. I...I need to find out where I am and a way back to Earth-" Glint talks to herself, tone still partically filled with static but she is at least a bit calmer (not by much). But this place she's landed has never been recorded by even Cybertronian explorers. If they'd ever found this, surely Cybertron would know about it- even in the ages when exploration was common in the universe.

Glint looks back, staring at the ring that curves up in the distance. There is a momentary sense of awe that fills the femme, before she shakes her helm and looks back at her ship. No, she needs to focus.

If there are natives here, she hopes they are peaceful. Humans? She doubts there is, but this is an odd ring system that has oxygen and others that sustain their life. If there is humans- she hopes that they can help her. That is highly unlikely though.

The mini-bot sighs, blue visor dimming as she starts with carefully overlooking what her scans say- and what she needs to repair- hopefully nothing to complicated. She stays on high alert, pistol magnatized to her hip in case of emergencies.

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geshh · 2 years

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Prongtails

Also known as "dumplings", these aliens are not individually sapient. However, when enough of them are together, the emergent properties of their electrical communication network forms a "Mind", which is sapient.

This is the control room of a prongtail ship. The stringy things are "control panels" that they interface with directly via electrical impulses.

Each prongtail has an electrical organ which produces electrical impulses through the tail prongs. It also has four tentacles on its head which are electrosensitive. In the middle of its body, next to the electrical organ, is its brain. It processes the electrical input and does a modest amount of the overall processing for the higher consciousness of the Mind. The prongtail also possesses an immune organ, which produces antioxidants and bloodborne cancer-fighting cells, as well as repairing radiation damage. Prongtail genetic material is also highly resistant to damage.

The prongtail homeworld is smaller and has a much thinner atmosphere than earth. It doesn't have much of an ozone layer, so there's a lot of radiation. Prongtails evolved in a symbiotic relationship with fungus-like autotrophs which humans have dubbed "mushroots" (prongtails lack true language). A prongtail ship's habitat is actually an extremely specialized modified mushroot hyphae system. The mushroot feeds on gamma radiation, turning some of it (along with carbon dioxide) into a highly nutritious, easily digestible food; it also shelters and protects the prongtails from harmful radiation. In return, prongtails cultivate, fertilize, and spread mushroots and their spores. They have become so entwined that the mushroot actually does a significant portion of the Mind's processing and holds a great deal of its long-term memory storage. In this way, a prongtail Mind is not only made up of many individual prongtails, but also the mushroot they inhabit.

The white splotches on the back and extremities ate mushroot spores, which grow more when introduced to an electrical field. The electrical organ is located towards the prongtail's dorsal region, and the tip of each extremity is where electrical current is discharged or received, or where the prongtail is grounded (ie the legs). Despite the entirety of the organisms on the prongtail homeworld lacking photorecetive abilities (ie eyes), most organisms (including the prongtail and mushroot) have several layers of dark pigments in their skin to protect against their sun's radiation. This gives prongtails their signature dark maroon-purple coloration.

The prongtail skeleton consists of many sturdy yet flexible plates, made up of polymers embedded with many small calcified scutes. These plates sit just below the skin, surrounding the visceral organs. The skeleton lacks true joints; instead, it is held together by a matrix of tough connective tissue and muscle. This "open floorplan" allows the prongtail to squeeze into tight crevices, such as the burrow tunnels it makes its home in.

#prongtails #spec bio #art #my art #speculative biology #aliens #synthesis

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vignettesfromceres · 2 years

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Prepare to Dock

“Prepare to dock, Anders.”

“Preparing to dock,” replied the ship's computer.

Gerald waited as the ship inched closer to the small asteroid. Eight metal legs stretched out from the sides and sunk their hooks into the solid surface of the asteroid, latching on and drawing the ship down to the surface.

“Ship successfully docked to asteroid,” Anders said as the ship came to a rest.

“Deploy drones.”

“Drones deployed.”

With that, dozens of four foot long robots poured out from the back of the ship and began cutting into the surface of the asteroid. Each would break off a section and take it into the processing hold where the ore would be crushed, the rubble sorted according to its major component and stored accordingly.

After 6 hours the last remnants of the 1000 ton boulder were carried onto the ship. Gerald fired up the thrusters and set course for Ceres.

Ceres itself is a protected body, a tourist haven in the belt. But once you get out past the hotel stations, casinos and other touristy places you found what look like lines of giant Ferris wheels all spinning at different speeds. There were ore depots, refineries, ship stops, garages, storage facilities (both pressurized and shielded, and not,) saloons, brothels, gambling joints, clubs, and of course at the center of it all, the shipping yard.

Gerald cruised over to his regular ore depot to offload his cargo. He pulled up next to a dock on the massive rotating structure, matching its velocity to pair up. Here Anders took over to make the connection between the cargo bay and the dock. Gerald could feel the constant velocity pulling him down to the floor of the ship, simulating the effects of gravity, more than the Moon's but less than Mars'.

“Docking complete,” Anders chimed out. “You may now move about the cabin.” He said in a mocking voice.

Gerald rolled his eyes as he got up and walked over to the cargo bay control panel. Pressing a few buttons he ensured the seal was made and confirmed his cargo configuration then opened the bay doors and allowed the ores to be pulled down into the receiving bays. Once the dust had settled the station's system analyzed the masses of the various ores and credited Gerald's account accordingly. An invoice flashed on the control panel's screen showing him the breakdown and the deposit amount: $P400.

Gerald patched through to the station.

“Four hundred platinum, Derek!? Really? It should have been six fifty, easy!” Gerald shouted into the mic.

“Sorry Ger, iron's down thirty cents.” A light, flamboyant voice responded. “Aztech Aero found a cluster of low ‘bido iron. Brought in half a million tons of pure iron.”

Gerald's mouth hung open a second. “Okay, four hundred then. Let’s go, Anders.” ______________________________________________________

“So Gerald, where too? The Solar Well?” Anders said sarcastically.

“Yeah, how about no. That place is too overrated. I’m thinking Electric Goat.” Gerald said.

“Plotting course.”

“Dude, it’s five-k away. I just. You- don’t need to say that stuff every time.” Gerald stammered shaking his head. “Whatever, set course.”

A minute later Anders was docking to the Electric Goat bar and grille. It was an eclectic restaurant, signs and memorabilia plastered all over the place, electronic house and trance music playing just soft enough for conversation to be had. Gerald dropped into the restaurant and made his way over to his favorite section and sat at the bar. A small screen attached to the counter displayed the menu in front of him allowing him to select his order- water, a bottle of root beer, a lamb gyro and onion rings.

“Sup loser!”

It was Lynda, a fellow independent prospector and friend of Gerald.

“Hey! What’s cookin’ girl?” Gerald shot back.

“Oh you know, same ol’ same ol’.” Lynda said, taking a seat next to Gerald. “You hear about Aztech’s haul?”

“Yeah. Lost out and one fifty because of it.” He said with a sigh. “But! Still got four hundred. So it’s not all bad.”

“Lucky. I had a load of pure iron. Brought it in just an hour after the price change.”

Gerald gave her a comforting pat on the back as he shoved a fresh, hot, onion ring into his mouth from the plate that had just arrived. “Hrmph herf herry.”

Lynda glared at him as crumbs fell from his mouth.

“I was saying ‘that’s rough buddy.’”

She shook her head. “You and your old shows and games.”

He shrugged sheepishly but he didn’t care, he loved his early 21st century media, even if it was old and outdated. “Did you catch the latest ep of Dagger?”

“I sit in a ship for hours on end doing nothing. Of course I did. What did you think when Sven and Claudia finally kissed? Man it was cheesy, but I’ve been shipping them since season two and it’s about time!” Lynda said enthusiastically.

“Heh, yeah that was cute. I was thinking of the part where Miles took out Viktor. That part was so tense. I got worried the writers were actually gonna do Miles in for real.” They continued on for another hour as they ate.

“Oh! Come back to my ship, I’ve got something to show you. I know you’ll just love it.” Lynda said as they were getting up to leave. Gerald followed, curious as to what it could be that she had.

#Prepare to dock #Vignettes from Ceres

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voidselfshipp · 2 years

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JAEGER-TECH OCS

Ezequiel Rojas

Profession: jaeger interface programmer

Place of Birth: La Serena, Chile

Age: 29

Biography:

Born and raised in Chile, Rojas was a carefree and free spirited young Man, only child from a middle class family of engieneers.

Just as the kaiju started to attack more frequently, Ezequiel had found his passion for coding, and he decided to volunteer to become one of the first j-tech interface coders of the Lima shatterdome.

He was always used as quality controll, which meant he never participated in the actual making of the interface. His opportunity arose when he heard of a specially tricky jaeger under the name of Blasting Supernova, and he volunteered to code the skeleton of the interface.

His superior, Dolores Quispe was the one who allowed him to try, and upon the code proving succesfull he was allowed to code the rest of the interface with a small Group that he led.

What was peculiar with this jaeger was that apparently the Core would Fire "random" electric pulses that would make the systems crash, and Rojas, being the stubborn and persevering young Man he was, found a way to work with the pulses and adapting the code to it.

Using the research of Dr.Lightcap he managed to create the first four people drift program.

Psicological Report/Personality:

Zodiac Sign: Leo

MBTI: ENF/T P

Positive Traits: enthusiastic, creative, supportive, playful, friendly,free spirited. Patient.

Negative traits: can be reckless, doesnt follow protocols, snores a bit too loudly(and Denies it)

Likes:

Coffee, coding, spending time with his family, solving problems, partying, dancing.

Dislikes:

Noisy keyboards, bad coding, arguing, cold food.

Dolores Quispe

Profession: Chief J-tech engieneer.

Place of Birth: Callao, Peru

Age: 35

Biography:

Born as the oldest of three, Dolores was no stranger to being in charge, always looking out for her sisters while her parents worked long hours to make ends meet.

When the kaiju hit the world and jaegers were built, Quispe saw a chance to give her family a better life, so she balanced her engieneer carreer and taking care of her sisters for ir.

She soon proved to be dependable and hard working, and slowly she made her way to chief j-tech engieneer.

Quispe was tasked with overseeing the construction of Blasting Supernova, a very peculiar jaeger given that its Core was not from this earth.

Dolores managed to create a unique electrical system that would handle the output of energy the Core had.

She managed to build a small team for the creation of Blasting supernova, working alongside its pilots to perfect it. Now her team are the permanent maintenance crew of B.S once the Lima shatterdome was shut down.

Psicological Report/Personality:

Zodiac Sign: taurus

MBTI: ISFP/J

Positive Traits:

Nurturing,helpful, flexible, realistic, considerate,hardworking,dependable.

Negative traits: overthinker, takes on a lot of responsability and hesitates to share the load.

Likes:

Cooking, dancing, making people laugh, help people, create things, tinkering.

Dislikes:

Carmen Garcia

Lazy people, loved ones being threatened, waking up early, opening up.

->struggles with anxiety.

Profession: jaeger repair crew/jaeger paneling welder

Place of birth: Manta, Ecuador

Age: 30

Biography:

Youngest of two siblings, from a family of blacksmiths and welders, Garcia was enthusiastic of following her family's traditions, taking up the mantle instead of her older sibling.

Carmen always liked to create, Wether it was makeshift jewelry, the hoods of cars or other kind of metalworks. For a long time she lived off of that kind of work, until jaegers were starting to get built and the PPDC needed metalworkers for the outer Shell of the jaegers.

Because of the demand, she was barely interviewed and shipped off to all the latin shatterdomes, where she worked on solar prophet and other latin jaegers.

When Blasting Supernova was being built, chief j-tech Quispe requested her inmediately. and Carmen, never being the one to back down from a challenge, accepted enthusiastically.

Psicological Report/Personality:

Zodiac Sign: aries

MBTI: ENFP

Positive traits:

Enthusiastic, creative,optimistic, playfull.

Negative traits:

Doesnt follow deadlines or schedules, easily angered, perfectionist.

Likes:

Metalworking,tinkering, spending time with Friends, making gifts for loved ones, working on jaegers.

Dislikes:

Not being able to concentrate, people hurrying her up, deadlines, overtly sweet food.

-> has ADHD that manifest in hyperactiveness, RSD, and having a difficult time regulating her emotions.

Francisco Benitez

Profession: jaeger mechanical engieneer.

Place of Birth: Asunción, Paraguay

Age:37

Biography:

Born in Paraguay,Francisco's mother raised her son in a garage, showing him the ins and outs of car/motorcycle engines and by the time he was 15 he could pull appart and assemble back almost any car engine.

When the kaiju attacked, he felt powerless to help, until his mother suggested that he could help with the mechanical aspects of the jaegers.

And so he did, he studied to be a mechanical engieneer,and while balancing with learning all there was to jaegers, he completed his carreer in no time,graduating with honors.

He worked in Lady Danger, Solar Prophet (where he met Carmen and worked alongside her for some years), Nova hyperion and Coyote Tango.

Benitez was called in by Dolores Quispe to work on Blasting Supernova, and after getting all the information (at least the non confidential bits) and seeing how peculiar the Core was, he decided to take it.

Soon he solidified his place as B.S' mechanical repair Man, and remains in this position to this day.

Psicological Report/Personality:

Zodiac Sign: gemini

MBTI: ENTP

Positive traits:

Helpful,creative, charismatic, easy to get along with, hardworking, friendly, inventive,versatile.

Negative traits:

Takes a Long time to wake up, drinks a lot of coffee, doesnt respect meal times, overworks himself to the bone.

Likes:

Grease on his hands, going out with Friends after a long day of work, repairing cars, helping people.

Dislikes:

Messy workplace, people grabbing his tools without telling him, not being able to shower after being elbow deep in jaeger engines.

Alma Morales

Profession: jaeger weapons specialist/ j-tech engieneer.

Place of Birth: Monterrico, Guatemala

Age:25

Biography:

Raised in a big family, Alma is the youngest of six siblings, all of them male. This Led her to have to solidify her place in the family and prove her brothers she was just as (or more) capable as them.

She was raised in a loving family however, often indulging and spoiling their kids while also teaching them respect, humility and hard work, while also promoting friendly and healthy competition (which would manifest in helping their parents unload groceries, help around the house, and helping eachother).

Encouraged by her siblings, Alma decided to join in on the jaeger proyects all around the world, proving herself to be incredibly resourcefull and creative.

After some debating, she was taken in by the Lima shatterdome, who positioned her as a J-tech repair crew woman, though after sharing some ideas with her superiors,she was put on charge of taking care of the jaeger's weapons.

Though her biggest challenge would arise when Dolores Quispe requested her for Blasting Supernova.

With some schematics, a lot of allnighters and powernaps, Alma created the most varied Arsenal for B.S, equipping the jaeger with a bo-staff that could superheat, a claymore metal sword that could catch on Fire (much like striker eureka's stingblades) plasma and Fire cannons.

Psicological Report/Personality:

Zodiac Sign: scorpio

MBTI: INFP

Positive traits:

Creative, loyal, caring, optimist.

Negative traits:

Kind of a mad scientist, overworking.

Likes:

Tinkering, drawing, taking breaks on jaegers, cooking, spending time with her siblings, watch movies.

Dislikes:

People moving her tools out of place, losing, the smell of burnt Rubber, when her inventions dont work.

《♡♡♡♡♡》

J-Tech ocs! Finally!

+ their designs:

->Only mutuals allowed to reblog.

-> they exist on the context of Del Toro's movie Pacific Rim.

♡lovely taglist: @tex-treasures @malewifepatrickbateman @mercuryships

#j-tech oc: dolores quispe #j-tech oc: francisco benitez #j-tech oc: alma morales #j-tech oc: carmen garcia #j-tech oc: ezequiel rojas #ask to tag

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darkmaga-retard · 1 month

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“Renewables” such as wind turbines and solar panels ONLY exist to generate occasional electricity under favorable weather conditions, as they CANNOT make tires, toilet paper, iPhones, or any products or transportation fuels to support lifestyles and economies around the world!

Neither VP Kamala Harris nor Minnesota Governor Tim Walz are cognizant that all the parts of spacecrafts, EV’s, and for more than 50,000 merchant ships, more than 20,000 commercial aircraft more than 50,000 military aircraft , 23,000 private planes, and 33 million pleasure boats are made from the products based on derivatives manufactured from crude oil.

In addition, all those merchant ships, commercial and military aircraft, private planes, and pleasure boats, use transportation fuels manufactured from crude oil.

FURTHER, everything that NEEDS electricity to function, like iPhones, iPads, TV’s, computers, data centers, and X-Ray machines are made from the oil derivatives manufactured from raw crude oil.

It’s shocking that neither Harris nor Walz comprehend that electricity was developed AFTER the discovery of crude oil. Without the parts and components to be able to generate electricity such as insulation, copper wiring, computers, control panels, and air conditioning, there would be no electricity from any of the six methods used to generate electricity such as coal, natural gas, nuclear, hydro, wind, and solar.

Amazingly, neither Harris nor Walz have enough Energy Literacy to direct policymakers to write energy policies!

Policymakers have no comprehension that crude oil is virtually never used to generate electricity, but when manufactured into those petrochemicals that are the basis of more than 6,000 products, is the basis for virtually all the products that support Hospitals, Medical equipment, Appliances, Electronics, Telecommunications, Heating and Ventilating, and Communications systems.

In addition, crude oil is the basis of the various transportation fuels in our materialistic society that did not exist before the 1800’s, now being used in infrastructures like: Transportation, Airports, Pleasure aircraft and boats, Space programs, and Militaries.

None of today’s readers were around 200 years ago, but the world has already experienced a net-zero environment just a few centuries ago. Before the 1800’s, and before the discovery of oil, the world had NO crude oil, and obviously NO products or transportation fuels, and NO electricity and NO Tesla’s !! Life was hard and short.

Neither Harris nor Walz comprehend that no one uses crude oil in its raw form. “Big Oil” only exists because of humanity’s addiction to the products and fuels made from oil to support today’s lifestyles and the economies!

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krystalglobalengltd · 1 month

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INDICATORS ON INSTRUMENTATION TUBES MANUFACTURER YOU SHOULD KNOW

SEAMLESS INSTRUMENTATION TUBES, HYDRAULIC TUBE AND MECHANICAL TUBE

Instrumentation Tubes are widely used for hydraulic & pneumatic control system, Fuel supply lines, Pressure sensors lines for automotive industry for onshore control panels, Topside processing facilities and subsea manifolds in Oil and Gas industry, High purity tubes for semiconductors industry, Fuel rods, Control tubes for advanced engineering, Cooling circuits, Brake cylinders for automotive industry.

We at Krystal Global Engineering Limited, provide a Variety of Seamless Instrumentation Tubes, Hydraulic Tube and Mechanical Tube including Austenitic, Ferritic, Martensitic, Duplex, Super Duplex & Nickel Alloys.

Cross-roll piercing ranks as the main piercing process for stainless steel seamless tubes and offers sizeable advantages when compared to alternative solutions like piercing presses or push-piercing mills. As a part of the rolling method, a mandrel bar is inserted in to the hollow – with the traditional Assel procedure it can be free-jogging, and with high-effectiveness Assel mills it can be moved in a very controlled fashion. Our items are exported to over 70 nations the world over, when in India We've got supplies to even the distant parts. With in excess of 250 tons of manufacturer of Instrumentation tube & pipe and Stainless Steel seamless pipes on a daily basis, Metallica has emerged as being a popular vendor For lots of prospective buyers in India and Abroad. SMS team has further more made the push bench course of action into CPE (Cross-roll Piercing and Elongation) and TPE (3-roll Piercing and Elongation). What this means is thee merchandise array is has therefore been extended in comparison with earlier concepts and also the procedures present sizeable benefits regarding both high-quality and price efficiency. Spot- Strategically located in the DFW place, NTP is centrally positioned throughout the US transport community, minimizing shipping situations and giving usage of a wide array of supplies normally available when the following day. In light-weight of weather modify, making CO2-neutral electric Electricity from sunlight has become additional vital. voestalpine supports this expansion with optimally processed supplies and progressive Thoughts. Editor's note: This informative article was originally revealed in May of 2020. It's been current to incorporate new studies and traits from the industry. From packaging insert trays to industrial delivery and material managing trays, our style and design workforce can get the job done with you to acquire modern options for just about any within your packaging or sections Group requirements. A crucial element of SMS team’s warm pilger mills is the large dimensional choice of rollable inventory – even for top-alloy steel grades. To learn more about ways to use Industry Select to produce trusted potential customers for your company, Check out a free Dem! Salem Tube’s solutions (Krystal Global Engineering Limited. Mumbai) are employed in a variety of applications and precision products – in seamless or welded & redrawn type, and straight lengths (nearly seventy two ft) or coils. Becoming among the most important specialized enterprises in Europe for manufacturer of stainless steel tubes and pipes, the manufacturing facility of CENTRAVIS Generation UKRAINE PJSC incorporates the recent-extrusion and chilly-drawing shops, which right until 2000 had been services of the Nikopol Yuzhnotrubny Plant (NYTP), previously most significant industrial complicated for manufacturer of stainless tubes and pipes. SMS group has consistently even further created this technologies and thus managed to double the utmost producible tube diameter. Today, tubes with an outside diameter of up to 460 mm and wall thicknesses of approximately 80 mm can be developed on assel mills. Our ground breaking design and engineering encounter enables us to manufacture normal and custom made steel tubing designs on your application requirements.

To Know more about:

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globalgrowthinsights · 2 months

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Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant Market Scope & Growth Projection till 2032

Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant Market provides in-depth analysis of the market state of Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant manufacturers, including best facts and figures, overview, definition, SWOT analysis, expert opinions, and the most current global developments. The research also calculates market size, price, revenue, cost structure, gross margin, sales, and market share, as well as forecasts and growth rates. The report assists in determining the revenue earned by the selling of this report and technology across different application areas.

Geographically, this report is segmented into several key regions, with sales, revenue, market share and growth Rate of Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant in these regions till the forecast period

North America

Middle East and Africa

Asia-Pacific

South America

Europe

Key Attentions of Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant Market Report:

The report offers a comprehensive and broad perspective on the global Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant Market.

The market statistics represented in different Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant segments offers complete industry picture.

Market growth drivers, challenges affecting the development of Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant are analyzed in detail.

The report will help in the analysis of major competitive market scenario, market dynamics of Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant.

Major stakeholders, key companies Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant, investment feasibility and new market entrants study is offered.

Development scope of Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant in each market segment is covered in this report. The macro and micro-economic factors affecting the Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant Market

Advancement is elaborated in this report. The upstream and downstream components of Industrial Wastewater Treatment Plant and a comprehensive value chain are explained.

Browse More Details On This Report at @https://www.globalgrowthinsights.com/market-reports/industrial-wastewater-treatment-plant-market-100570

Global Growth Insights

Web: https://www.globalgrowthinsights.com

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kims123456 · 2 months

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Sustainable Logistics: Eco-Friendly Practices Transforming Supply Chains

In an era marked by heightened environmental awareness and increasing regulatory pressures, the logistics industry is undergoing a significant transformation towards sustainability. Sustainable logistics involves implementing eco-friendly practices that minimize environmental impact while maintaining operational efficiency. This blog explores the key elements of sustainable logistics, its benefits, and the practices reshaping supply chains to create a greener future logistics course in kochi

The Need for Sustainable Logistics

The logistics industry is a major contributor to global carbon emissions, energy consumption, and environmental degradation. Traditional logistics practices, such as fossil fuel-powered transportation and inefficient warehouse operations, have significant environmental footprints. As businesses and consumers become more conscious of environmental issues, there is a growing demand for sustainable practices that address these challenges.

1. Environmental Impact

Logistics operations contribute significantly to greenhouse gas emissions, air pollution, and resource depletion. The transportation sector alone accounts for a substantial portion of global carbon emissions. Additionally, energy-intensive warehouse operations and excessive packaging contribute to environmental degradation.

2. Regulatory Pressures

Governments worldwide are implementing stricter environmental regulations and standards to curb emissions and promote sustainability. Compliance with these regulations is essential for avoiding penalties and maintaining a positive reputation.

3. Consumer Expectations

Consumers increasingly prioritize sustainability when making purchasing decisions. Businesses that adopt eco-friendly practices can attract environmentally conscious customers and enhance their brand image.

Key Practices in Sustainable Logistics

1. Green Transportation

Transportation is a significant contributor to logistics-related emissions. Adopting green transportation practices can reduce the environmental impact of moving goods from one location to another.

Alternative Fuels: Switching to alternative fuels such as electric, hybrid, or hydrogen-powered vehicles reduces reliance on fossil fuels and lowers emissions. Electric trucks and delivery vans are becoming more prevalent in urban areas, offering cleaner transportation options.

Fuel Efficiency: Improving fuel efficiency through technologies like aerodynamic enhancements, optimized route planning, and regular maintenance can reduce fuel consumption and emissions.

Eco-Friendly Shipping Methods: Embracing more sustainable shipping methods, such as rail transport and sea freight, can be more environmentally friendly compared to road transport, particularly for long-haul routes.

2. Energy-Efficient Warehousing

Warehouses are energy-intensive facilities that require significant resources for heating, cooling, and lighting. Implementing energy-efficient practices can reduce energy consumption and lower operational costs.

LED Lighting: Replacing traditional lighting with energy-efficient LED lights reduces energy usage and extends the lifespan of lighting fixtures. Motion sensors and automated lighting controls can further enhance efficiency.

Renewable Energy: Utilizing renewable energy sources, such as solar panels and wind turbines, can reduce reliance on non-renewable energy and lower greenhouse gas emissions.

Energy Management Systems: Advanced energy management systems monitor and optimize energy usage within warehouses, identifying opportunities for efficiency improvements and cost savings.

3. Sustainable Packaging

Packaging plays a crucial role in protecting products during transportation, but it also contributes to waste and environmental impact. Adopting sustainable packaging practices can reduce waste and promote recycling.

Eco-Friendly Materials: Using recyclable, biodegradable, or compostable materials for packaging reduces the environmental footprint. Examples include paper-based packaging, plant-based plastics, and reusable containers.

Minimalist Packaging: Designing packaging that uses fewer materials and reduces excess packaging minimizes waste and resource consumption. Companies can adopt packaging designs that prioritize functionality while reducing material use.

Packaging Recycling Programs: Implementing recycling programs and encouraging customers to return packaging for reuse or recycling helps close the loop and reduce waste.

4. Circular Supply Chains

Circular supply chains focus on minimizing waste and maximizing resource efficiency by reusing, recycling, and repurposing materials throughout the supply chain.

Product Life Cycle Management: Designing products with their entire life cycle in mind, including end-of-life disposal or recycling, reduces environmental impact. Companies can implement take-back programs or refurbish products to extend their lifecycle.

Material Recycling: Recycling materials such as metals, plastics, and paper within the supply chain reduces the need for virgin resources and lowers waste. Businesses can partner with recycling facilities to manage material flows efficiently.

Resource Optimization: Optimizing resource use through practices like closed-loop systems and waste-to-energy technologies reduces the environmental footprint of logistics operations.

5. Sustainable Supply Chain Practices

Sustainable logistics extends beyond individual practices to encompass the entire supply chain. Integrating sustainability into supply chain management involves:

Supplier Collaboration: Working with suppliers to adopt sustainable practices and ensure that they meet environmental and ethical standards promotes sustainability throughout the supply chain.

Transparency and Traceability: Implementing systems for tracking and verifying the environmental impact of products and processes enhances transparency and accountability. Blockchain technology can aid in creating transparent and traceable supply chains.

Continuous Improvement: Regularly assessing and improving sustainability practices ensures that logistics operations remain aligned with environmental goals and industry standards.

Benefits of Sustainable Logistics

Adopting sustainable logistics practices offers numerous benefits for businesses, the environment, and society:

Cost Savings: Energy-efficient technologies, optimized transportation, and reduced waste lead to cost savings through lower energy bills, reduced fuel costs, and minimized waste disposal fees.

Regulatory Compliance: Meeting environmental regulations and standards reduces the risk of fines and penalties while enhancing compliance and operational stability.

Enhanced Brand Reputation: Companies that prioritize sustainability build a positive brand image, attract environmentally conscious customers, and differentiate themselves from competitors.

Environmental Protection: Sustainable logistics practices contribute to reducing carbon emissions, conserving resources, and protecting ecosystems, supporting overall environmental health.

Challenges and Considerations

While the benefits of sustainable logistics are substantial, there are challenges to overcome:

Initial Investment: Implementing sustainable practices may require upfront investments in new technologies, materials, and processes. Businesses must weigh these costs against long-term benefits.

Complexity of Integration: Integrating sustainability into existing supply chain operations can be complex and require coordination across various stakeholders and processes.

Measuring Impact: Quantifying the environmental impact and effectiveness of sustainable practices can be challenging. Companies must develop metrics and systems for monitoring and reporting progress.

Sustainable logistics is transforming supply chains by integrating eco-friendly practices that reduce environmental impact, enhance efficiency, and support regulatory compliance. Through green transportation, energy-efficient warehousing, sustainable packaging, circular supply chains, and supply chain collaboration, businesses are advancing towards a more sustainable future. While challenges exist, the benefits of adopting sustainable logistics practices—such as cost savings, regulatory compliance, and improved brand reputation—make it a compelling investment for businesses committed to environmental stewardship and long-term success. As the logistics industry continues to evolve, sustainability will play an increasingly critical role in shaping the future of supply chain management best logistics courses in kochi

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hillbowman · 2 months

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.......The Necessities of Survival

Premonition:

…

Hill Bowman

…

Dedicated to

Hilda Sue Bowman

my mother

…

Above photographs compliments Google News September 13th 2023

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Chapter 1.

The Bigger Picture

Need To Migrate

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Chapter 2.

Earth Is A Closed Ecosystem

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Chapter 3.

Resources Are Limited But

B.S. Is Perpetual

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Chapter 4.

A Battle Against Principalities

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Chapter 5.

Crowdfunding

Open Research

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Chapter 6.

Tomorrow Starts Today

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Chapter 7.

Extrapolation On Moore’s Law

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Chapter 8.

You Are Here

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Chapter 9.

The Necessity of Cross Referencing

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Chapter 10.

Road Map To Survival

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Chapter 11.

Integrated Parts

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Chapter 12.

Unified Survival Theory

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Chapter 13.

Requirement Of Migration

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Chapter 14.

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Chapter 3.

Resources Are Limited But B.S. is Perpetual

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It is worthless to argue over a moot point such as Environmental Conservation.

The reason Environmental Conservation is a moot point is because individual, immediate, Self Indulgence will outweigh long-term catastrophic possibilities. Until imminent catastrophic possibilities become an imminent mutually assured destruction .

And of course by then it is too late... and perhaps that is the focal point of what this book is about.

I would like to suggest that we get the move on today while the sun is shining instead of waiting for it to be hailing sleet, snow, thunder and lightning before we get on to doing some things that we really need to address…

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One thing I would like to suggest that has been on the drawing board for a very long time now nearly 50 yrs…

Is a gravity ring

It kind of looks like a bicycle wheel, but 10,000 times larger.

The center hub would contain rocket and electric thrust

Solar sail would be streched from the outer rim to the hub. Solar Thinfilm (flexible solar panels) should be stretched on the opposite side of the rim.

Off the shelf compressed gas or electric thrust can be used for rotation and stability control and for artificial gravitational effect around the rim.

Continuing with the bicycle wheel analogy…

What we have discussed so far is the frame and propulsion systems. Attached to the rim of the gravity ring (Where a bicycle tire would be on a bicycle rim) would be modular habitat’s.

These modular habitat’s would be interconnected with air locks. And sheathed with 2mm steal plates. Each habitat would be 50 meters long by 30 meters diameter. Each habitat divided down the length into four compartments…

Lower most compartment:

for infrastructure:

( 5 meter ceiling )

plumbing, electrical, heating , equipment storage.

Bottom -center compartment:

(10 meter ceiling )

for agriculture.

5 meters of high grade top soil Actively growing…

grains. Fruits, vegetables, and live stock (chickens sheep, possibly fish

Top-center compartment:

(10 meter ceiling )

Living habitat for crew

Research labs, food storage & cafeteria, ship command (navigation, propulsion, critical resource management ect)

Top – most compartment:

( 5 meter ceiling )

is for systems infrastructure,

resource harvesting conduits for critical industrial systems (raw resource harvesting smelting, materials fabrication, particle accelerator configuration intake / exhaust harvest, Bot deployment bay, heavy equipment storage…etc.).

…

Keep in mind that size in space is relative to ambition, cash flow and supply line.

If the frame work of the gravity rim is 500 meters radius (1killometer diameter) and circumference of 3,140 meters divided by 50 meters/habit would allow room for 62.8 habitat modules

If the gravity ring only has 1level of habitation module’s there would be enough room on the rim to secure approximately 60 habitat modules. That’s sounds like a lot of space but this vessel can permanently house a crew of 2,500 with room to accommodate 2,500 transient passengers.

Since the habit’s are modular you can stack them like building a modern hi-rise four or five high with only marginal difference in the perception of gravitational pull.

Crew can accesses any part of the vessel by use of air tight elevator/stairwell shafts built into the frame work of the gravity Rim .

And use of public / agricultural division of the habitat modules to traverse the circumference of the habitat Ring.

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This vessel would be capable of sustaining populations for very long journeys or function as a geosynchronous ship yard or as an orbital scientific colony or as a roving harvester

However the primary purpose for the “Stepping Stone” vessel is as ~

automatic raw resource harvester, self replicating ( macro bot ), interplanetary transport vessel.

The self replication of the “Stepping Stone” is accomplished through swarm technology.

There are three main components to the “stepping Stone” vessel

The brain ~ (CAMF AI)

The body ~ “Stepping Stone” electromechanical vessel and appendages.

MOM “Mission Objectives Mech”

NOTE: A lot of people fail to grasp what MOM really is, but fear not. Well talk in more detail about MOM a little later on.

In short…

MOM is the collective sum of (CAMF AI) and the “Stepping Stone” vessel exercising autonomous situational comprehension, comparative tactic analysis, harvesting resources, material retrieval, manufacturing, navigation, self repair/replication and much more…

How MOM Works…

Harvesting targets and directives are issued by Central Assessments Main Frame narrow AI (CAMF AI) and confirmed with human oversight (or with complete autonomy like unmanned vessel )

Once targets / objectives are established the electromechanical components of the “Stepping Stone” under direction of CAMF AI issues objective/directives, target coordinates to required harvester bot's.

Bay doors are opened, harvester bot’s are deployed, supervised, retrieved, raw ore, gas, ice, ect. are unloaded and funneled to proper smelter or storage containment. All under direction of (MOM).

. Further you could carry a genetic library and of course seed bank and pollination bank(insect specific) along. In doing so you can grow what you need invetro fertilization… so that after crusing through the Milky Way Galaxy for 7 generations your great, great, great, grand children will still know what chicken taste like and look like because you could grow them as you need them. Chicken’s, cows, pigs, sheep, whatever floats your boat.

Actually come to think of it you could do invetro fertilization for people too but there’s a lot of argument among many groups in the human species as to the morality and ethic’s as far as invetro harvesting people. Crewing an interplanetary vessel with ’Test-tube people' or whatever like that, I’m sure, would get the hairs on the back of a Nay Sayer’s neck standing straight up.

I don’t think an Invetro crew is anything to worry about until the prospects of immediate intergalactic travel is upon us.

But we do have the technology to do it.

Further, the scientific research for advancement into the stars, feasible energy/propulsion systems and sustainability of biological systems to colonization of other planets will inevitably and inextricably lead toward advancements in every aspect of human understanding. From geosynchronous or roving interplanetary library’s (appended with research) to interstellar propulsion systems to exoagricilture to main stream galactic navigation (passenger space liner for everyday earn a buck two-leggers like me and you) …and so much more.

If you enjoy doing mazes when you were in school then you probably know that it is easier to solve the puzzle of a maze by going from the back to the front. From end to beginning almost always yield’s the path of least resistance in solving the maze.

This approach encapsulates one of the ‘principles’ in ”7 habits of highly effective people “

‘~Begin with the end in mind~’

And so, this book is written by Design from the back to the front starting with the big picture: The End Objective.

Therefore

Establish a specific objective:

1. Finance and build the “Stepping Stone” vessel.

2. Establish earth to Low Earth Orbit (LEO) Supply Line.

Reusable rockets, Space X

3. Establish research, engineering and construction provider’s

~“Orbital Platforms “~

low earth orbit ‘extrusion of space station frame work’.

4. Establish construction methodology

~ Reusable rockets~ deliver modular components to build location.

First pay load is a single modular habitat that shipyard crew can live in during construction of first “Stepping Stone “vessel

5. Coordinate R&D, fabrication and construction provider’s

6. Establish financial base

Crowd funding

~One billion people *$10 each~

The research needs to be across the board with specific goals that can be Unified into a spear head toward a specific objective.

…

Short term benefits:

1. Build first “Stepping Stone” self replicating vessel .

2. Construct reusable geosynchronous ship yard .

3. Establish financial base.

4. Crowd funding ~.

One billion people * $10 each

5. Construct Earth knowledge bank… (geosynchronous library)

6. Guarantee survival of humanity and accumulated knowledge of humanity by expanding out in to the solar system and later the Milky Way Galaxy at large.

7. Harvesting raw resources exploration & cataloging.

8. Colonizing planets that can be terraformed or directly inhabited.

9. The Preservation of our biosphere Earth.

10. The Preservation of the other organisms and resources within this biosphere that depend on it.

The Catalyst that can accomplish this daunting task is the innate need for…

11. Survival As A Species.

With our collective knowledge, technology, science, and culture as a species intact

…

Most important of all and most fundamental to our primitive and instinctive nature is that We (Human beings) are apex predators, like lions. Also, we (Human beings) are pack animals in the same sense that lions are pack animals.

lions do have their pride (pack) and there are rules too being in the pride.

When a young lion has grown past adolescence they get kicked out of the pride if that lion has Not found a mate and Started his own pride.

The lion pride is structured in this way by instinct

First because the young lion will eventually clash with the pride Alpha male. This usually ends with injury to the Alpha as well as death for the challenger

Lions seem too also realize instinctively that the challenger will be a drain on resources until he learns to successfully hunt, mate, and establish his Own pride.

The social structure of people is not all that different.

Due to this fundamental of our nature as predators in the animal kingdom We are nervous when we are around other human beings that we do not personally know. Therefore it is to the benefit of our survival as a species to expand off of this planet so we do not gnaw at each other.

No, I’m not talking about a nuclear war. Or a collision with the asteroid Apophis ( both of which Are possible), I’m just saying in general; from drug sponsored street violence, police brutality, ethnic, religious racial tyranny all the way up the line to conflicts of state and terrorism we’re just good at killing each other. We are in our own documents in history prove to be the apex predator on this planet and a blood thirsty near genocidal species. So let’s just admit that truth and move forward with that because it’s a fact. And of course there is the ever present military ambition to control the high ground which in space means the outer perimeter sphere of human colonization and population and economic activity’s)

also the fundamental greed of Industry by the mining of resources in the process of seeking out habitable planets as well as the inevitable revenues generated buy rare goods as well as food supplies generated by the established colonies through enter planetary trade and tourism. And on top of all that add the individual human drive to acquire

…

On a brighter note this of course is not the only reason that human beings occupied territories in the age of exploration (colonial expansion, 1500-1800) people came west to grow farms, to raise cattle, to prospect gold, for game, to live quietly in the mountains, to be peaceful and go out fishing every Sunday because that’s what they love to do. People will travel out into space for many of the same reasons first as tourists to the moon just for the experience, to tell their neighbors. Later on for more serious endeavors because industry will be paving away

…

Please know Elon musk says he's going to be having relay ships running between Mars and Earth on a 1 year or a 6 months schedule some time in the next 10 years

Note this is not exactly accurate text because I'm out of date on this specific topic but something like that was considered…So all I can say to that is,

Right On… That’s what’s up ,😀!!!

…

But getting back too the “Stepping Stone” project

I think that such an artificial gravitation habitat such as described above; as I call the “Stepping Stone” would be the most fruitful first step towards the human species seriously moving out into the solar system and populating beyond the planet Earth.

For example, we could definitely build two of these platforms under 10 years. Design research development and implementation on the first stepping stone would take approximately 7 years start to finish.

The second one will simply be franchised as they say in the business community or replication as they would say in the technology community.

But yeah, basic replication of the technology developed in the first stepping stone... Especially the technology of self-replication so that the first “Stepping Stone” vessel actually constructs the second “Stepping Stone “vessel.

Once this is accomplished we could establish orbit for “Stepping Stone1” around the earth and the moon, simultaneously establishing orbit for “Stepping Stone 2” around Mars and the. moon Like an interplanetary bus rout. The “Stepping stones” will be a self contained colony even before you touch down on a planet. The “Stepping Stone” vessel will provide everything the colony would need indefinitely to sustain itself.

Or The “Stepping Stone” can just roll about space on controlled power, solar sails, rocket thrust( H-H-O) or particle accelerator ejection (exhaust). Harvesting and mining resources and raw materials for self replication, for purposes of extending out farther into the planets, the keiper belt and Milky Way at large..

But wait!!

In 5 years (with abundant harvesting resources) The first two stepping stones will self replicate two more stepping stones making a total of four which can easily put us on the route to an interplanetary bus route, so to speak, that reaches out to Jupiter possibly and beyond... All in 15 years or less.

The self replication of the “Stepping Stone” is exponential

Max speed to self replicate is 5 years so consider 7 years the average replication time

The first two “Stepping Stones” will replicate two more “Stepping Stones” in 7 years

All 4 “Stepping Stones” will self replicate In another seven years totaling 8 vessels. All eight vessels will self replicate in seven more years totaling 16 “Stepping Stone “vessels. And on and on…32…64..

In seven revolution of self replication you will have 128 vessel…

Eight self-replication revolutions

Yealds256 vessel…

Nine revolutions yield’s 512vessels and so on…

Quick math:

512 “Stepping Stones”= 9 revolutions of 7 years each

Revolutions 9

x Years 7

= 512ships = 63 years

This proses continues indefinitely

And Now you might grasp how the “Stepping Stone” project can and will build a network spanning the solar system in 50 years or less; and extend a network across the milky way galaxy in short order (perhaps 500 years or less).

In about 60 or 70 years (2099 – 2110) We have a whole fleet of “Stepping Stone “vessels. We’d be harvesting raw minerals, discover new methods of transportation, existence, survival and commerce…

THROUGH INTERPLANETARY COLONISATION AND INTERPLANETARY MARKET’S…

and all kinds of really cool stuff …

….

But let me digress a little bit It's fun…

We have talked a lot about science and technology but now lets consider people for a bit…

…

the fundamental nature of human curiosity to explore and discover for the sake of exploration and discovery.

The silk road, the imperial Battle for the American colonies, the reach for the moon and beyond. All are driven by the same motivation within the human spirit both as the individual biological animal that we are and as we compile ourselves into the social entity of nations that we are also.

Insatiably self destructively curious.

…

Book Recommendations:

Note: Google search

‘Pdf’+’7 habits of highly effective people’

…

Google search

‘pdf '+’update’+’colinization of mars’+’elon musk’+’space x'

“ “ “

Document title…

The details of Elon Musk and SpaceX plans to establish a

permanent settlement on Mars

“ “ “ Google search parameters for next chapter 4.

‘Forbes, 128 companies that own everything

#interstellar flight #interplanetary colonization #Leo economy #technology #economics #emersive history #futur science #chapter 2

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