#features of fleet management system

[supernovalcholism]

A "Quick" Experiment

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

18+ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ | ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴀɴᴏᴍᴀʟʏ. ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴏᴜʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʀʟʏ? ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ! ᴛɪᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ!

ᶜʷ: ˢᵐᵘᵗ, ᵒʳᵃˡ ⁽ᵐ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ⁾

Now, as you glance across the room, you see Viktor hunched over his desk, deeply absorbed in a file Heimerdinger had passed along. His messy hair falls slightly into his face, and his sharp features are softened by the dim light of his workspace. He’s been working tirelessly for weeks, and though you’re already two weeks ahead on your own tasks, you can’t help but think of easing his burden.

You and Viktor have always had an... awkward relationship. From the very first day you met, there had been a strange rhythm to your interactions—flustered smiles, shifty glances, and a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. When you were hired as the Assistant to the Dean of The Academy, Viktor was the one who showed you the ropes, walking you through the intricacies of their systems. He was always so gentle, so patient, and yet there was something in the way he spoke to you that made your chest tighten and your words stumble.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you offer, stepping closer, your voice gentle but carrying enough firmness to show you mean it.

Viktor doesn’t look up right away, his attention still fixed on the document as his finger traces the edge of the paper. Then, after a moment, his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “Yes, I’d very much appreciate it.” His tone carries a warmth that lights a spark of satisfaction in your chest.

Encouraged, you approach his desk, leaning against the edge casually, trying to mask the nervous energy buzzing under your skin. Viktor’s demeanor changes instantly. He sits upright, hurriedly fixing his posture as though your nearness alone had startled him into alertness.

“I can review some of those files for you,” you say, your hand brushing lightly against the corner of the desk as you lean closer. His gaze flickers to your hand and back to your face, something unreadable glinting in his amber eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, almost hesitant. You’ve never seen him flustered like this before, and it stirs something in you—curiosity, amusement, and maybe something else.

As you reach for the pile of papers he slides toward you, your fingers brush against his, a fleeting contact that lingers longer in your mind than it does in reality. His breath hitches ever so slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirks as though he’s fighting a smile—or a deeper thought.

The air feels charged again, like it always does when you’re near him. But for now, you both focus on the task at hand, the silence between you a curious mix of comfort and tension.

You take the stack of papers Viktor hands you, the tips of his fingers grazing yours. The contact is fleeting, but the heat of it lingers, spreading up your arm like wildfire. You glance at him, but he’s already looking away, his jaw tightening as he picks up his pen and pretends to focus on the document in front of him.

The silence stretches, heavy and electric. You settle into the chair beside his desk, spreading the papers across the surface. His scent—warm, faintly metallic—lingers in the air between you, and you swear the space feels smaller now. Tension knots in your chest as you catch him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“You don’t have to stay here,” he says, his voice low, almost strained. “I can manage—”

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, offering a soft smile that you hope masks the pounding of your heart. “Besides, two heads are better than one, right?”

He nods, but his lips press into a thin line, and his pen freezes mid-word. You watch as he exhales sharply through his nose, his hand flexing around the pen before he sets it down with deliberate care.

“Are you always this insistent?” he murmurs, his tone teasing, but there’s a tightness there, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Only when I think someone needs help but won’t admit it,” you reply, keeping your tone light despite the way the air between you feels like it’s vibrating.

He chuckles, the sound soft but rough around the edges. “You are... persistent.”

“And you are stubborn,” you counter, looking up at him. For a moment, neither of you says anything. His amber eyes meet yours, and the weight of his gaze makes your breath hitch. There’s something unreadable in his expression—something cautious but undeniably hungry.

You realize you’re leaning closer, the papers on the desk all but forgotten. Viktor’s hand twitches, like he’s debating whether to reach out, but he stops himself, his fingers curling into a loose fist.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?” You ask, your voice unsteady, though you already know the answer.

“Like you want something you shouldn’t,” he says, the words dragging out of him like they hurt to admit.

Your heart skips a beat, and the air around you feels impossibly thick. “And what if I do?”

He inhales sharply, his posture stiffening as though he’s trying to put space between you without actually moving. His jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips for the briefest second before returning to your gaze.

“Then you are playing a dangerous game,” he murmurs, his voice so low it sends a shiver down your spine.

You lean back slightly, not out of retreat but to let the weight of his words settle. Your pulse thunders in your ears, and yet, a part of you thrills at the crack in his otherwise composed exterior.

“I don’t think you’d let me lose,” you say, your tone softer now, more vulnerable.

His breath catches again, and for a moment, he looks torn. His hand moves, just barely, as if he’s considering reaching for you, but instead, he clenches it into a fist and pulls it back.

“You are too bold,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“And you’re too guarded,” you counter, leaning forward again, challenging him.

This time, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his gaze locks onto yours, his amber eyes burning with something fierce, something he’s clearly been trying to bury. The silence between you crackles, like the tension has reached its breaking point, and you know—both of you know—that something is about to crack open.

The weight of Viktor's gaze pins you in place, the unspoken tension between you finally snapping the fragile veil of pretense. Neither of you moves for what feels like an eternity, the charged silence filling the room until it’s almost unbearable.

“Boldness suits you,” Viktor finally says, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. His words are deliberate, measured, as though each syllable is testing the boundaries of whatever invisible line exists between you.

“And restraint suits you,” you reply, your voice trembling slightly. “But I’m starting to think you don’t want it to.”

A flicker of something passes through his eyes—surprise, hunger, a hint of surrender. His fingers, which had been so tightly curled against the edge of the desk, unclench, and he shifts closer, almost imperceptibly, as though drawn in by an invisible force.

You don’t know who moves first. One moment, the space between you is thick with unresolved tension, and the next, it’s gone. His hand brushes against your arm, tentative, as though testing the waters, before sliding up to cup your jaw. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his breath fanning against your lips, his voice hoarse but steady.

You meet his gaze, and instead of answering, you lean into his touch, your lips parting just slightly in invitation. It’s all the encouragement he needs.

The kiss starts slow, hesitant, like he’s still fighting against himself, but that hesitation evaporates the moment your hand slides to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He deepens the kiss, his lips firm yet gentle, exploring yours with a tenderness that contrasts sharply with the intensity building between you.

You lose yourself in the moment, the world outside his office fading into irrelevance. His other hand comes to rest at your waist, steadying you as you tilt further into him, your heart hammering against your ribs. His touch isn’t rushed—it’s purposeful, like he’s memorizing the contours of your frame, the curve of your lips, the way your breaths hitch when he leans just a little closer.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting lightly against yours. The air between you feels just as charged as before, but now it carries a different weight—an understanding, an unspoken promise.

“This is dangerous,” Viktor whispers, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “But sometimes danger is worth it.”

He exhales a quiet laugh, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “You are relentless.”

"And you like it," you counter softly, your hand still resting against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He doesn't deny it. Instead, he leans in again, pressing a softer, lingering kiss to your lips-a silent acknowledgment that whatever this is, he isn't ready to let it go just yet.

Viktor’s lips linger on yours, softer this time, more deliberate, as if savoring the moment. When he finally pulls away, his hand remains on your jaw, thumb brushing lightly against your cheekbone. His amber eyes search yours, filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing, like he’s trying to understand what’s just happened—what this means.

“I shouldn’t…” he starts, but his voice falters, betraying his resolve.

“But you did,” you reply softly, your hand still resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths. “And I’m not sorry.”

His lips twitch into a faint, rueful smile. “You are… impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” you say, a hint of teasing in your tone. You tilt your head slightly, your fingers trailing down the fabric of his shirt. “Tell me you regret it, and I’ll leave. Tell me this doesn’t mean anything to you, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

His eyes darken, the air around you growing heavier as he studies your face in silence. The tension is unbearable, every second stretching longer than the last. Finally, he exhales, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of his inner conflict is too much to carry.

“I cannot regret something I’ve wanted for so long,” he admits quietly, the words barely louder than a whisper.

Your breath catches, your chest tightening at his confession. “Then don’t push me away,” you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Viktor’s hand moves from your jaw to your waist, hesitant but firm, as though he’s still testing the boundaries of this newfound intimacy. “You do not make this easy,” he murmurs, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But then, nothing worthwhile ever is.”

He leans in again, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels different from the first—deeper, more certain. His other hand moves to your back, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, slightly unruly strands as you lose yourself in the moment.

Time seems to blur, the world outside his office forgotten as the kiss intensifies. Every touch, every movement feels like a silent conversation, an unspoken agreement that whatever this is, it’s real. It’s messy, complicated, and undeniably real.

When you finally part again, both of you are breathless, your foreheads pressed together. Viktor’s hands remain on your waist, his grip grounding you in the reality of the moment.

“This changes things,” he says softly, his voice tinged with both apprehension and hope.

“It doesn’t have to,” you reply, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “We can figure it out. Together.”

His lips curve into a small, genuine smile, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat. “You are far braver than I am.”

“Or just as foolish,” you counter, grinning.

Viktor chuckles, the sound low and warm, before pressing one last, tender kiss to your forehead. “Perhaps a bit of both,” he says, his tone lighter now, though the weight of what’s just happened still lingers. Readers' arms rest on his shoulders. "...Viktor..?"

"Yes?" He gazes into her eyes.

"Would it be foolish of me...if i—" Readers hands slowly trail down his chest, then his stomach. Then, he rests on his waist. Reader sits, laying on the desk in front of him.

"—had my way with you?"

Viktor's breath hitches, his eyes widening for just a moment before they soften, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering in their amber depths. He swallows hard, as though trying to steady himself, his gaze darting between your eyes and your lips.

"Foolish?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. A faint, nervous chuckle escapes him as his hands come to rest on either side of your hips, his fingers twitching slightly as if unsure of their place.

"I think... it would be far more foolish of me to refuse." Your lips curve into a sly smile, emboldened by his words, as you lean_ forward, your proximity making his breath catch once again. His cheeks flush a faint crimson, and you can feel the tension radiating from him, an intoxicating mix of nervousness and desire. "You're so easy to fluster, Viktor," you tease, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pull him just a little closer. His lips part as though to respond, but the words catch in his throat, replaced by a soft exhale that betrays how deeply you affect him. "You say that," he finally manages, his_ voice low and tinged with a hint of self-deprecating humor, "but you leave me no time to prepare." His lips quirk into a shy, lopsided smile, and for a moment, the tension melts into something tender.

But the heat in his gaze returns almost immediately as you tug him even closer, your fingers trailing up his sides to his collar, toying with the fabric. He sways just slightly toward you, as though drawn by some invisible force, his breath mingling with yours. "So... no preparation?" you whisper, your voice laced with mischief. His laugh is soft but genuine, the sound rumbling against you. "None," he concedes, his voice raspier now, his hands tightening their hold on your hips as if to ground himself. "You're entirely too good at this.' "And you're entirely too irresistible," you reply, your tone dripping with sincerity as you tilt your head slightly, your lips just a breath awav from his.

His composure finally cracks, and with a deep, shuddering breath, Viktor closes the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that's equal parts gentle and fervent, as if he's been holding back for far too long. The world around you seems to fade, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, stolen moment.

The kiss deepens quickly, urgency seeping into every movement. Viktor's careful composure shatters as his hands grip your hips more firmly, pulling you flush against him. His lips press harder against yours, and a quiet, ragged sound escapes him, almost a whimper, as if he's overwhelmed by how much he wants you. You respond in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate to erase every bit of distance between you. The gentle warmth of his earlier touch gives way something far more desperate, his lips parting against yours as the kiss grows feverish. His breaths are uneven, mingling with yours, and you can feel the pounding of his heart beneath your hands as they slide up his chest and clutch at the coll- of his shirt.

"Viktor–" you gasp against his mouth, the sound trembling with need, and it seems to spur him on. His hands slide up your sides, roaming with newfound confidence, his fingertips brushing the edge of your shirt before gripping your waist again, as if afraid you'll pull away.

"I-" he begins, his voice thick with emotion, but you cut him off with another kiss, desperate and consuming, pulling a low groan from his throat. His lips move fervently against yours, almost frantic, as though he's trying to pour every ounce of unspoken feeling into this moment. You lean back slightly, your weight pressing into the desk, pulling him with you.

His body follows instinctively, one hand bracing against the desk beside you while the other slips under your shirt, his touch searing against your skin. The roughness of his movements contrasts with the tremor in his hands, a reflection of the storm of emotions roiling within him. His lips leave yours briefly, trailing down your jaw and neck with an uncharacteristic hunger, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. He presses open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his teeth grazing ever so slightly, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. His name spills from your lips, desperate and raw, and the sound only seems to fuel him further.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and strained, yet his hands and lips betray no intention of halting.

"I won't," you reply breathlessly, pulling him impossibly closer, your nails digging into his shoulders as if to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of passion threatening to consume you both. His lips return to yours, and this time, there's no hesitation-only raw, unrestrained need as the kiss grows impossibly deeper, each movement charged with desperation and longing.

Viktor groans against your lips, his body pressing firmly into yours, the weight of him grounding you even as the world seems to tilt on its axis. His hand roams under your shirt, the pads of his fingers tracing fiery paths along your skin. Every touch is possessive yet reverent, as though he's memorizing every inch of you, every reaction he pulls from you. The desk creaks beneath you as you shift, leaning back further to accommodate him. Viktor follows without hesitation, his hips pressing flush against yours now, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His lips leave yours again, his breath ragged as he trails kisses along your jawline, your neck, and the hollow of your throat. The desperate way he mouths at your skin leaves you trembling, gasping his name in a way that makes his grip on you tighten.

"You—You drive me mad," he breathes against your collarbone.

Viktor’s hands tremble as they explore the bare skin now exposed to him, his fingertips leaving trails of fire along your sides. He hesitates for the briefest of moments, as though still in disbelief that this is happening, before his lips crash against yours again, even more desperate than before. His kiss is raw and unrelenting, his teeth catching your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from you that seems to shatter what little control he has left.

His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss, while his other hand moves to your thigh, sliding up the bare skin until it grips your hip firmly. His touch is rougher now, his usual careful precision lost in the haze of his desire. The desk beneath you groans in protest as he pushes you back further, his body leaning over yours, his weight pressing you down in a way that makes you feel utterly claimed.

“Viktor,” you gasp against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a guttural groan from him that sends a shiver down your spine. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips hot and insistent against your skin, teeth grazing and biting gently in a way that leaves you breathless.

“You're intoxicating–” he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough and low, sending a ripple of heat through you. “I— I can’t think, can’t breathe when I’m near you.”

“Then don’t think,” you whisper, your voice trembling but firm as your hands tug at his shirt, finally pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of him—his lean, scarred frame, his chest heaving with every ragged breath—only fuels the fire burning between you. You trail your hands over his chest, your touch reverent but purposeful, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your fingers.

His lips find yours again, his kiss hard and demanding, his hands sliding up your back to pull you closer. You arch into him, your body reacting instinctively to his, and the heat between you becomes unbearable. Viktor’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as if he’s afraid to let go, and the desperation in his movements matches your own.

You pull him down with you as you lean fully onto the desk, his body covering yours, his weight anchoring you in the dizzying intensity of the moment. His lips never leave yours, his kisses growing sloppier, hungrier, as though he’s trying to devour you, to consume every part of you.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional groan or gasp that escapes either of you. Time feels irrelevant—there is only Viktor, his touch, his kiss, the way his body molds against yours as if you were made for each other.

“More,” you whisper against his lips, your voice barely audible but carrying the weight of your need. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his amber eyes dark and wild, his lips swollen and parted as he tries to catch his breath.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he murmurs, his voice trembling with a mix of adoration and unrestrained want, before he captures your lips again, this time with a tenderness that contrasts the fervor of his touch, as though he wants to savor every second of this moment.

Viktor’s breath hitches as your hands trail down his chest, your fingers trembling slightly but resolute as they find the buckle of his belt. His lips falter against yours for a moment, and he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are wide, filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty, his cheeks flush a deep crimson.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and raw, but there’s no mistaking the way his body leans into yours, craving your touch even as he hesitates.

You nod, your fingers deftly undoing the buckle, the metallic clink of it echoing softly in the room. “I’ve never been more sure,” you murmur, your voice steady despite the wild thrum of your heart. Your hands slide to the button of his trousers, your touch teasing but deliberate, and his breath shudders as he closes his eyes, clearly fighting to maintain some semblance of control.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, echoing his earlier words, but this time his voice is thick with surrender. His hands grip your hips tightly, as though grounding himself, his lips returning to yours with renewed fervor. The kiss is desperate, almost bruising, his teeth catching your lower lip in a way that sends a spark of heat coursing through you.

As you work on the fastening of his trousers, he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips. His hands move over your body with an urgency that matches your own, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your waist, your thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The restraint he’s held onto so carefully is unraveling, and you can feel the raw need in every touch, every movement.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against your lips, his voice trembling but filled with unspoken hope that you won’t.

You shake your head, pulling him closer as you lean back further on the desk, your legs wrapping around his waist to draw him in. “Don’t stop,” you breathe, your hands sliding up his chest to rest against his shoulders. “Please, Viktor… don’t stop.”

His composure shatters completely at your words, a guttural sound escaping him as his lips crash into yours again. His hands move with more confidence now, one sliding under your thigh to hitch it higher around his waist while the other cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly even as the kiss grows hungrier.

The tension in the air is electric, the world outside fading into nothingness as Viktor’s weight presses into you, his body aligning with yours as though the two of you were made for this moment. Every breath, every touch, every whispered word between kisses pulls you both deeper into the intoxicating haze, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.

<^>

With a man so intelligent, with dazzling good looks and the softest eyes you've ever seen— how could you stay away?

<^> <^> <^>

Pt2 coming soon... let me know what yall thought and if you want a part 2!!

- Enya

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Andrew Scott

(Not my gif)(Requested by @sweet-dorky-crazy )

- They say that death is like eternal sleep—that your body remains at the mercy of the living while your consciousness floats endlessly inside of your own head. When Andrew Scott is brought back to life, he finds that he is still asleep, hibernating inside of himself while his body is controlled by somebody else. The UniSol serum flows through his system and acts like anesthesia: it keeps him under, keeps him asleep, keeps him at peace. At peace until he begins to wake up....

- Andrews memories undulate in clarity. They spill out smoothly from the darkest corners of his brain, pulling back from his hands just before he can touch them. You live inside of them—crashing into his head like waves before slipping through his fingers like water. Your presence is fleeting, fading in and out of view like a ghost. You're like the view of the shoreline when his heads being pushed underwater. The short gasps of breath that he catches between mouthfuls of water. He works against the current to get to you and you keep him conscious enough not to drown.

- When his previous life begins to come back to him, it's the carnage that comes first. It cracks across his skull like gunfire: a sudden and violent reminder of the man he once was. He stands in a warzone, in the middle of a jungle surrounded by bodies and blood. He remembers it vividly—but he doesn't recognize where he is. He's lost and there's no way out. Not until he sees you....

- Recognizing you is like wading through molasses, like reaching out towards nothingness and trying to grasp onto something blindly. You appear to him in flashes. Flashes of your hands and your eyes and your face. Flashes of your touch: soft and gentle and caring. Flashes of your voice, the sound of comfort and the voice of reason in a room full of traitors conspiring against him.

- When he walks back into the command center after killing Colonel Perry, his eyes linger on you the longest. He pieces your features together one by one: makes one whole person from a patchwork of different snapshots pulled from his mind. He fits your eyes to your nose, to your lips, to your face—puts you together like a puzzle and lets everything snap into place. You come to focus like a camera, like the clearing of tv static: a crisp image made out of grainy pixels. His gaze doesn't leave you until it has to, until he's turning the corner to set down a pair of ears onto the operating table.

"I've relieved Colonel Perry of his command." He informs everyone inside of the vehicle, stopping to inspect the soldier that you and the rest of medics were attempting to resuscitate.

"G13. This mission has been cancelled. I order you back to the cooling chamber. Now!" An officer barks out at him.

"Orders? I'm giving the orders from now on. ...We have a mission to complete." The click of a gun rings out from behind him: a foolish attempt to subdue him while his back is turned. The outspoken officer from before reaches for his own weapon, moving in solidarity with the man who stands just at the corner of Andrews eye. He shoots the officer first, a perfect shot right between the eyes, then he turns on the medic who started it all, snapping his neck in one swift motion.

"Any questions?" He asks the other two medics, waiting for any sign of opposition. They remain silent and he turns away from them, traces his eyes over the area you'd once inhabited before he finds your figure yet again. In the absence of his attention, you've managed to plaster yourself against the far wall, making yourself as small as possible in an attempt to hide from view. You shake your head 'no' when his eyes lock onto yours, assuming that he's waiting for an answer. The barest hint of a grin pulls at his lips.

“Good.”

- The mobile command center has always been quiet but with Andrews sudden coup d'état, the remaining medics; including yourself, have taken to working in complete silence. The three of you communicate with your eyes, scared to even open your mouths when asking for a scalpel or other surgical device. You work far slower than usual, pausing when assistance is needed: hesitating when trying to decide how you'll voice what you need without actually speaking.

- A whistle breaks the silence, an incredibly successful attempt at gaining the entire rooms attention. Everyone's eyes jump to the man sitting at the vehicles control center. Your stomach drops when you find that his gaze is locked on you. He smiles when your eyes meet, pointing and curling a finger at you, an obvious sign for you to stop what you're doing and come closer. Your hands shake as they slowly set down the things in your grasp, hesitantly making your way over while you and the rest of your team anticipate the worst.

- You stop in the entrance of the operating room, waiting for him to tell you what he wants from you. Instead of speaking, he ushers you closer, curling his finger yet again, amusement crawling across his features. He doesn't let you stop until you're standing just a couple inches away from him. You worry for a moment that he'll reach out and touch you, but you're relieved to find that he doesn't. He asks for your name, asks how your work is going, asks when you think you'll be done.

"I'm making you my second in command, y/n. Make sure they stay on track." He informs you with a wink—you can't tell whether he's trying to intimidate or tease you. You simply nod your head, retreating back to your work as Garth and Woodward exchange worried glances with you. You wonder if it's Andrews comment that ultimately makes them go against your advice....

- When Woodward urges Andrew into the cooling chamber, you try to dissuade him from carrying out his plan. You whisper reason after reason as to why they shouldn't take action, yet none of them seem to get through to the men. You watch helplessly as Garth approaches the sleeping soldier, watch as Andrews hand springs up and latches onto his wrist, watch as he kills the man right in front of you. When he's finished, the soldier turns back to you and Woodward, locking eyes with you from behind the glass. He focuses on the man beside you, more than he does you, and you get the impression that he might have been listening in on your conversation the entire time.

"No more games." He tells the two of you with finality. Woodward, stammers, nervously trying to explain himself. You remain silent.

"Y/n, what did I just say," Andrew interrupts him, eyes still locked on the man beside you. It's obvious that he doesn't believe any of his excuses, or his obvious attempts to lie to him. You hesitantly repeat his words back to him and he smirks. "See. At least someone's listening...."

- After that, you're the only member of the team that Andrew seems to trust. Though that isn't saying much, not when there's only two of you left; besides the two bloodied soldiers that you're still attempting to stitch back together. When Andrew wants something done, he goes to you. When someone needs to get close to him, he makes sure it's you. When Woodward says anything, he looks to you for confirmation. You suppose that after your coworkers attempted betrayal, you've actually become his "second in command".

- He insists that you accompany him whenever he exits the command center, expects you to follow after him whenever he orders you to. It's why you're outside of the vehicle when Woodward manages to blow himself up, standing a few feet away from Andrew as the bar goers take turns taunting him. You keep your gaze on the ground, tensing and grimacing every time one of them makes a comment or a beer can goes flying towards your "superior". You know how this ends, they unfortunately do not.

- When the explosion goes off, you practically jump out of your skin. You're so taken aback that you actually move closer to Andrew, bumping into his solid body as he drops the man he's holding by the ankle. He storms away from you with a curse, storms into the still smoking truck and tosses Woodward's body out into the street. He lands at your feet, not entirely in one piece, and Andrew appears in the doorway soon after, ordering you to get inside.

- He rants to you as he drives to the nearest supermarket, yelling about traitors and killing and war. When he parks the truck, he barks at you to follow him, taking the two dead soldiers, each by one arm, and dragging them out of the vehicle. You follow behind him as he pulls them through different aisles, kicking things out of the way so that he can fit them inside of the freezer. He commands you to fix them and you explain that the cold will do it, if they'll even come back at all.

- One of them makes it, but the other doesn't. You flinch as Andrew kicks at his body, yelling at him to get up and stand at attention. You gently try to break it to him that he isn't gonna make it, tensing in anticipation when the man goes quiet, staring down at the body that lays lifeless on the freezing ground. When he gives up on the man, he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you out of the room as he yells about his platoon dropping like flies.

- He pinches his nose in frustration as the two of you exit the freezer, yelling out at the supermarket customers who have stopped to stare at the scene. He doesn't let go of you, and you're forced to stumble after him as he pulls you this way and that.

- He rants about the war he's fighting and the traitors who are trying to get him, and you realize in that moment that he's never left Vietnam. That he's still stuck in his final moments: fighting for his country and trying to keep himself alive.

- When you finally leave the supermarket, he drives you out to an empty motel, ordering you to stay behind while he finishes tracking and exterminating Deveraux. You wait there obediently, wondering whether or not you should flee.

- Ultimately, you decide to stay put, though you're not entirely sure as to why. You think that maybe it has something to do with you feeling responsible. Andrew is your Frankenstein's monster; a product of your own creation, and as the last of your team left alive, it's your responsibility to deal with him; regardless of what that may entail. A part of you wonders if the man will make it back, but you know better than to doubt him....

- He returns to you in two days time, knocking on your door with bloodied hands. You don't ask what happened, you don't even think you want to know, you simply usher him into the bathroom and gather as much ice as you can. He blinks at you lazily as you fuss over his injuries, covering him in bags of ice and monitoring his wounds as they slowly begin to heal. He calls you nurse, and you wonder if, when he looks at you, he sees you sitting there in an old red cross outfit, taking care of him in some hospital overseas. You tell him that the war is over and hope that the message sticks.

- In the morning, there's a suitcase sitting on the bed opposite your own, it belongs to neither of you and it's undoubtedly stolen from one of the rooms next door. Andrew is already dressed in a t-shirt, one that doesn't quite fit him, and a pair of old jeans. He tosses a dress at you and you go to take a shower, ignoring the stray ice cubes melting at your feet.

- He smiles at you when you exit the bathroom, telling you that you clean up nice. He takes you to a diner down the road and you sit in a booth silently, waiting for the waitress to come and take your order. He orders for himself and then for you, unbothered by your awkward demeanor and the fact that you're struggling to act like everything is normal.

"Not hungry," He asks almost teasingly. On the contrary, you're starving, but your more so worried about what's going to happen when the waitress comes back with the check. Andrew doesn't seem worried though, especially not when he lets out a playful: "I’m buying."

- Andrew makes a habit of talking at you, pretending he doesn't notice your discomfort as he makes one-sided banter and tells you stories from his past. He seems to have a very 'fake it till you make it' mentality, speaking to you like you're both good friends, grinning and winking at you from across the table while stealing fries off of your half eaten plate.

- You're surprised to see him pull out a wallet once you've both finished eating, though you suppose you shouldn't be: not when he's wearing another mans clothes. He pulls out some of the stolen bills and sets them down onto the table, sending you a knowing smirk when you look at them in surprise. He asks if you're ready to go and when you nod, he rises from his seat and wraps an arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the diner and back to your stolen vehicle.

- The two of you drive for the better part of a day, only stopping for gas and the occasional bathroom break. You're not sure where you're going, and you're not sure that Andrew does either, but he still continues to drive, making conversation the entire time.

- At the end of the day, you wind up in a seedy country bar. Andrew leads you to a table at the back of the room, patting the seat next to him when you move to sit across from him. You hesitantly sit by his side, smiling back at him awkwardly when he shoots you a grin. He pats your knee when he jokes with the waitress, like a calling card for when he wants you to smile or laugh. His arm winds up wrapped around your shoulders halfway through dinner, his one hand toying with your hair while he uses the other to talk. You don't want to admit that having his hands on you has begun to elicit feelings other than fear....

- His flirtation starts slow, a stray comment here and there, usually a compliment or something of the sort. You wonder if it has anything to do with him running out of things to say, or if its an attempt to get you to open up. He tells you that you look nice in your dress, better than the scrubs he's used to seeing you in. He asks if you've always had "that scar/beauty mark", gently brushing a finger against the blemish as though he expects it to come off, or maybe just to emphasize what he's talking about. When the sun goes down, he asks if you're cold, tugging the bottom of your dress just that half an inch lower, his hand coming to rest of your knee and not leaving your skin until you're both exiting the car.

- One week on the road turns into two, two turns into three. Andrew starts to get better, starts to claw his way out of the past. The progress is slow but it's there, and you find yourself wanting to be there with him.

- You try to suppress your feelings, try to ignore the guilt that comes with liking a person as rotten as him, but it's really no use. You don't know the exact moment you fall in love with him, you just sort of realize that you have. You see him get hurt and your chest tightens—an undeniable physical reaction, one that proves the very thing that you dread.

- You take him back to the motel room you're staying at, bearing the brunt of his bodyweight as he stumbles through the door. He steadies himself on different walls and furniture, trying not to crush as you help him through the room. His hands leave bloodied fingerprints and his boots leave tracks of mud, though neither of you care very much about either. He mutters out comments about the fight he got into, jokes about his blood "leaving a mark" and how you're stronger than you look.

- He watches you lazily as you gather up ice, clutches onto you like a lifeline as you help him into the tub. You stay silent, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to worry about making conversation. You're sure he can tell that there's something wrong with you, sure that your emotions are written all over your face. You doubt that you're hiding them very well, but at that point you simply don't care.

"I remember this one song you used to play when you worked on me," He interrupts the silence. He imitates the song, snapping his fingers and halfheartedly dancing in an attempt to get you to smile. "That one. ...You used to talk to me sometimes. You knew I could hear, but you didn't think I'd remember. You told me about the people you worked with, things wrong with your apartment, traffic...."

- When his body was still being controlled by UniSol, you'd sometimes find yourself alone in a room with him. Oftentimes, you were tasked with cleaning his injuries or injecting him with one of the many serums that the program administered to their augmented soldiers. You'd make one-sided small talk: used to working on normal patients who appreciated a distraction from what you were doing to them. He'd glance at you sometimes and you'd feel a bit like a veterinarian: like you were speaking to an animal who could recognize that you were addressing it, but couldn't understand a word you were saying. Your coworkers used to tease you for it, but you never really managed to stop.

"Did you do that with everyone or just me?" He asks.

"Just you." You say quietly, just a hair above a whisper, and after he takes a long look at your face, he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. You kiss him back before you manage to remember that he's still healing. You pull away from him, holding him at arms length when he makes a move to follow your lips.

"C'mon, don't say you didn't like it." He says, and you know that you won't: because you know that you did.

"You're gonna hurt yourself." You tell him and he raises a brow at you, an amused smirk pulling at his lips.

"Oh, you're that good, huh?" He teases, playfully twisting your words. You shake your head at him, hiding your smile as he settles back down onto the ice....

- Andrew is naturally affectionate but it reaches whole nother level when you're out in public together. There's rarely a moment where he doesn't have his hands on you; when he isn't holding onto you like a prized possession and flaunting your relationship to everyone in sight. A part of him does it because he's scared that you'll get away from him, either run away or just plain disappear— like your life together was nothing but a dream, and that he'll wake up back in the UniSol program or the jungle that he died in. Having his hands on you keeps him grounded, reminds him that he's out of that terrible place and living a; relatively, normal life.

- Another part of him just likes touching you; especially if you're shy and have a tendency to get embarrassed. He likes seeing other peoples reactions to his loving behavior as well. He thinks it's fun to make bystanders; especially his enemies, feel like they're witnessing a hostage situation. He hangs all over you: kissing your skin and pulling you close, keeping an arm wrapped around your shoulders, and pressing you up against his side. Sometimes he'll hug you from behind and press your faces together like you're taking a picture. "Aren't we a perfect pair?" He'll ask whoever's there with a smirk, loving the awkward/concerned way that they react.

- When he's in a less playful mood, he'll make it obvious that he wants the two of you to be left alone, sending glares to whoever's unfortunate enough to make eye contact with him and/or interrupt the two of you while you talk. It's in these moments that he prefers to hold onto your clothes instead of your body: gripping onto your sleeves or the collar of your jacket, worried that he'll hurt you on accident if his mind starts to wander. Most of the time, he'll just stay glued to your side, leaned in close so that the two of you can whisper to each other and keep your conversations private. Sometimes he'll play with your hair or your clothes, wanting something to do with his hands while the two of you go over your plans.

- He has a slightly concerning habit of playing with your ears: tugging on the lobes, toying with your earrings, twirling the hair around them, etc. He does it absentmindedly but it always makes you a little nervous....

- Forehead and Temple kisses. He'll shamelessly pucker his lips whenever he wants a kiss from you; regardless of wherever the two of you are and whoever may be watching.

- Andrew is ravenous when he kisses you: he pulls you in by the back of your neck and doesn't stop until your body goes weak against his own. He's passionate, rough, and sometimes a little dirty—definitely not the type of person you want to be kissing in public.

- Cuddling with Andrew can get a little complicated. If you're just sitting together randomly during the day, then he'll happily wrap himself around you and cradle you in his arms; usually while you lay in his lap. But if you're expecting to cuddle every night then prepare to be disappointed. Some nights he's forced to cool down instead of relax in bed beside you, spending hours in the bathtub surrounded by ice or outside in the cold where the natural chill of the air can fix his issues. Other nights, he's plagued with nightmares and isn't able to sleep, usually opting to keep his distance from you while trying his best to clear his head.

- On good nights, however, he'll keep an arm wrapped loosely around you, nudging you whenever he asks a question/makes a joke—keeping you from falling asleep until he's ready to—or waking up every time you shift in the slightest. You usually rest your head on his chest, shoulder, or in the crook of his neck, nestled close to his side while his space heater of a body keeps you warm and toasty.

- In his more vulnerable moments, he'll lay with his head on your stomach/chest, making comments about how you're "a proper pillow" and that you "can't get this in 'nam". He went down a bit reluctantly the first time the two of you laid like that, so much so that you had to pull him onto you, but once he mumbled out a "this is nice", you knew he was down for the count.

- He's very big on you showing him affection. Choosing to sit on his lap, giving him a kiss with little to no prompting, hugging him, snuggling into his side, wiping dirt or blood or what have you off of his skin for him, etc. It reassures him that he isn't actually holding you hostage; even if he likes to pretend.

- He uses a lot of pet names when addressing you; some more teasing than others. When he's being sweet, he'll call you things like honey, pumpkin, sweetpea, little lady, my girl, etc. Sometimes he'll coo out a "baby", but that's usually when he's in one mood or another. When you fix him up, he calls you "doc" or "nurse". When you cook, he calls you "chef". When he's teaching you something or being bossy, he calls you "soldier". Like I said: he uses a lot of pet names.

- He thinks it's fun to dominate you domestically: trapping you against him, throwing you over his shoulder, picking you up when you're being feisty and playfully reminding you of who you're talking to. It doesn't matter how much you weigh, he picks you up like it's nothing; because to him it truly isn't.

- Andrews compliments aren't the smoothest or the most romantic, but they're always authentic, and they get his point across all the same. He'll call you "the prettiest damn woman [he's] ever seen" and other; oftentimes vulgar, things of the like. And though he might resemble a catcaller more than a loving boyfriend, he somehow manages to make it endearing: whistling and grinning and getting all handsy with you, even when you're looking and feeling your ugliest.

- There's nothing better to him than waking up in the morning and watching you get dressed, smiling at you lazily as you walk around in your undergarments or one of his shirts. A close second is the mini fashion shows you put on whenever you get new clothes and/or want his help in deciding what to wear.

- It's best not to question it whenever he comes home with anything: whether it's food, weapons, different cars, or different clothes.

- Occasionally, he'll come home with jewelry and hold it out to you like a proud cat with it's newest hunt. Sometimes he'll slip it onto you wordlessly or talk about irrelevant things, wait for you to say something about it yourself and/or give him a kiss as a thank you. Other times he'll play with it lazily, twirling it on the table or winding it around his fingers, waiting for you to sit next to him and look curiously at his hands. He'll stop toying with it, hold it out for you to get a good look and ask if you like it.

- On occasion, he'll simply tell you to "c'mere", grab you and tug you closer, or lean in close to you himself, gently securing it around your skin or pulling it over your head. Once he's done, he'll hold you in place and look at it sitting against your skin, admiring the sight; and usually acting a little more subdued and in love.

- Whenever you're around to see him acquire his aforementioned goods, he's even more of a little shit than usual. He goes window shopping on passerby's, asking what you think about strangers necklaces and coats and things of the like. If you compliment anything, he'll ask if you want it: like it's perfectly normal to mug someone on the street just because you can. Even when you insist you don't want something, he'll sometimes say "yeah you do" and just take it anyway; though thankfully it's usually when he's robbing a store instead of a person.

- One day, before the two of you actually started dating/before you considered yourself his girlfriend, he'd somewhat intimidatingly mentioned that " [he] gives you all this stuff" yet never gets anything in return. You'd frozen in response, brain scrambling for something you could give to him before nervously deciding to offer up a bracelet of yours, fully expecting him to scoff at it. Instead of doing so, he'd grinned at you instead, slipping it onto his own wrist or tucking it into his pocket, patting the fabric happily. He gives you stolen gifts nearly every week, yet he's still all smiles and surprise whenever you give him anything of yours. "Must really love me" he'll tease you, claiming that the item will be his good luck charm whenever he's apart from you.

- Andrews a menace who likes to prompt you into action then tease you for doing what he'd essentially forced you to do in the first place: things like cuddling close to him when it's cold or squeezing past him when he's blocking the way. He also loves to joke about you "just wanting to put your hands on [him]" whenever you touch him in any way, smirking at you while you roll your eyes and/or tease him back. Don't be surprised if he makes cheeky comments towards you/about you in front of other people just to see them get all uncomfortable/awkward.

- The two of you have a lot of back and forth in your relationship. He likes banter; likes being kept on his toes, so he likes having a girl who can keep up with him and keep him in check. He also likes seeing you be all quick-witted with people outside of your relationship, it makes him proud to call you his girlfriend.

- He talks at you a lot, yammering on and on about nothing in particular, saying "you know?" after nearly every sentence even though he never waits for an answer. He's like a professor giving a lecture on respect and war and things of the like. Like an old man ranting about things that have changed since he was a kid. Sometimes you think he just likes hearing himself talk, other times, you think that talking to himself out loud; with you as an audience, helps him work through things in his head.

- It's not being on the run if you call it a road trip!

- Visiting nearby lakes whenever the two of you need to cool off; or potentially living near one if you decide to settle down someplace warm. Sometimes, after he's done exerting himself, he'll hose himself off or dump buckets of ice cold water over his head. You'll come over with a towel to dry his hair off for him; since every other part of him is hot enough to boil the water off itself, and when you ask if he's feeling better, he'll smile down at you and claim that he always feels better when you have your hands on him.

- Impromptu picnics. The two of you have all the time in the world; particularly when you're driving cross country, so you pull over whenever and wherever you want, eating and doing as you please.

- He likes stealing cars and speeding around in empty areas, doing donuts and going as fast as possible down long stretches of road.

"Let's see how fast this baby goes, eh?" He'll turn to you with a smile, and you'll just have to prepare yourself for a adrenaline filled, heart racing experience.

- Dates in the middle of nowhere. Gas stations, diners, random areas where you just camp out: they might not be places that normal people would consider proper dating spots, but neither of you have ever claimed to be normal; at least not since getting together.

- When the two of you want to have "normal" dates—bowling, mini golf, things of the like—he either breaks into the places you want to go, or scares everyone off so that the two of you can be alone. Once there's no one in sight, he acts all jovial and cheery, like he didn't just threaten to kill a room full of people just so that the two of you didn't have to be in a crowd/wait in line.

- Most of the time, you try to dissuade Andrew from leaving the house/car with you whenever you need to go anywhere; preferring to keep your deadly super soldier with a lust for violence safely away from the general public. But, sometimes he gives you no choice: wanting to be around you to keep an eye on you, or to take you someplace normal for a date, or even just to run errands with you because he's bored at home. Whenever you do take him out in public with you, he has a tendency to act concerningly extroverted, and while it might make you slightly nervous whenever he jovially interacts with random strangers, it's always a relief whenever things don't go south.

- That being said, there might be some slip ups every now and again: days where he attempts to intimidate people, acts loud and obnoxious/causes a scene, makes threats, or wordlessly "deals" with whoever's managed to get on his nerves; particularly whenever your back is turned. Thankfully, however, he usually listens to you whenever you tell him to stop, reluctantly releasing the persons shirt collar as you reprimand him and pull at his arm. He'll give them a devilish grin before he lets go, calling them lucky before turning to you with a casual "sorry baby" like he's committed some minor infraction. When it comes to him, you suppose that it counts as one; at least no one died....

- Though he'll refuse to admit it, rest assured that your boyfriend has attachment issues. He always needs to know where you're going and how long you'll be, and he hates having you out of his sight for longer than a few minutes. His behavior can seem somewhat controlling, but it's more about his fear of losing you than it is an urge to control you. It's hard for him to admit weakness so his nervousness can, occasionally, come off as aggression. He'll catch your arm as you go to leave and demand to know where you're going, telling you to be quick when what he really wants to say is "be careful".

- You had to temporarily cut contact with a lot of your friends and family while out on the run with Andrew, but you're able to reconnect with them once the two of you settle down. One of your friends doesn't like Andrew at all, and while you try to keep their disapproval of him a secret, your boyfriend finds out about it anyway.

- When they come to visit you for the first time, he manages to get them alone, and while he never directly accuses them of anything; never outwardly says that he knows that they've been trying to break the two of you up, he certainly alludes to it. He sits there like a cat ready to pounce and makes vague; oftentimes intimidating, comments about your relationship—about how much he loves you and how he doesn't know what he'd do if somebody tried to get between the two of you—and "jokes" about how he doesn't think that they like him very much.

- He'll act like nothings wrong when you finally come looking for them, cheerfully claiming that he was just showing your friend something outside, giving them a somewhat goading smile as he pulls you into his side. Your friend will remain silent, too scared to speak to the contrary, and they'll stay like that for the rest of the night. Though it'll be obvious that something happened between the two of them, you'll never find out exactly what that something was, and your friend will never bring Andrew up to you again....

- Though you'd likely move in together someplace else, if he ever had the chance to spend time in your personal place of residence, he'd make himself right at home, acting like he owns the place and everything in it. He lays in your bed, eats your food, uses your expensive shampoo, etc. He's a bastard, but at least he has the decency to clean himself up before he ruins all of your pretty belongings: chucking his boots off at the door, hosing himself off outside/showering right when he comes "home", etc. He likes to jokingly tell people that you would kill him if he tracked mud through the house.

- You liken loving Andrew to loving a reformed fighting dog. Time has turned him sweet, turned his claws dull and taught him to kiss instead of bite. He's gentle with you, gentle with his person, but there's always a violence that lingers beneath the surface, hungry and waiting. There's skills that he's never forgotten, there's triggers that've never gone away. He may never use his teeth on you, but he'll easily tear into somebody else and instantly remind you of what he once was and what he still is.

- It's in those moments that you're reminded of how comfortable you've grown in his love for you. You act like you're in charge, you yell at and give him hell, you order him around and expect him to obey. And for the most part he does. He listens because he cares and he takes your disrespect with a smile on his face, allowing you to act out and scold him without repercussion. Instead of calling you his person, he calls you his "old lady", and as Andrew would playfully put it: you "have [him] by the balls".

- Having a super soldier that needs the cold to survive, you'd likely choose to live somewhere with frosty weather. Because of this, you'll occasionally see him laying out in the snow with hardly any clothes on, looking like he's tanning on the beach instead of turning himself into a human popsicle. You'll bundle yourself up and join him outside, expecting him to say something sweet from the way that he's looking at you as you approach him, only for him to tell you that you look like the Michelin man.

"Too cold for you to be out here." He tells you halfheartedly as you settle down next to him.

"I think I'll be fine for a little while." You insist, enjoying his quiet company for the next few minutes.

"Your nose is all red." He interrupts the silence, trailing a finger down the feature. You grab his hand and pull it away, holding it in yours and resting them both in the space between you.

- Sitting out on your porch and watching the sunrise/sunset.

- Lounging on the couch together, watching VHS movies and television shows. That being said, he is the type of guy to have his own personal armchair.

- If you have cold hands, he'll develop a habit of grabbing them and putting them against his skin whenever he gets a little too warm: resting them against his heart, his neck, or his face. The chill doesn't last very long, since he's practically a heating pad, but it still soothes him and benefits you in the process.

- Sharing cold beers. Sometimes, when he goes to grab them from the fridge, he'll chuck a couple ice cubes into his mouth and crunch on them like they're a normal snack. You'll have to remind him to not do it around you if the sound of it drives you nuts; though he might occasionally do it anyway just to annoy you.

- This man can eat you out of house and home so keep that in mind whenever you go food shopping. Catch him guzzling a literal gallon of milk in the middle of the night, like damn man can you at least leave some for my morning coffee??

- He doesn't see a problem with using your toothbrush and/or drinking straight from the carton. Living through war ensured that very little is sacred to him: he's used to rations being scarce and having to do some arguably gross shit because of it. After practically swapping spit with several men in his platoon, doing the same with the woman he's been giving and getting head from is child's play.

- If you insist on learning to defend yourself, he'll put you through a makeshift bootcamp, making the experience as difficult as possible because he thinks it's kind of pointless. He's resolute in the fact that he'll always be there to protect you; and that you have no chance against any of his enemies anyway, so he'll put you through hell in an attempt to dissuade you from wanting to learn. If you think that seducing him will make him go easier on you, you're sorely mistaken: he'll play along before sweeping the rug out from under your feet, telling you to drop and give him twenty just as you think he's falling for it. "Had enough?" He'll question when you finally give up, kneeling in front of you as you lay in a heap on the ground. You'll nod your head tiredly and he'll demand that you give him a kiss before picking you up and carrying you inside.

- Asking him to teach you how to use a gun will earn you a suspicious once-over, but he'll ultimately agree: not like you can do much damage to him with one anyway. He'll set up some targets and come up behind you, wrapping himself around you as he teaches you what parts to move and how to aim and so on and so forth. Once you've got the gist, he'll stand back and watch you give it a go, hooting, hollering, and letting out proud "that's my girl"'s anytime you manage to actually hit whatever you're shooting at.

- Andrew keeps his old stuff in a lockbox. Where he keeps that box depends on how healed he is: the farther away it is, the more willing he is to let go of the past and begin to move on. If you ever got pregnant, you'd hear him digging in your yard late in the night; probably the same day that you told him. You'd discover the box gone soon after, buried deep in the Earth and away from prying eyes and curious little hands. He isn't ashamed of his old life, but it's certainly no place for a baby.

- Helping him through his PTSD. Even when he starts to get better, he'll still occasionally have flashbacks—only you'll be there too. Sometimes, in the middle of nowhere, he'll grab you and force you down low to the ground, barking at you to "keep your fucking head down before someone sees you". You'll have to recognize when there's an actual threat vs when he's reverting back to his old memories: have to recognize when it's best to listen to what he's telling you, or try to assure him that everything is alright.

- At one point or another, in one way or another, he's gonna make sure that you're bound in blood. Your blood, his blood, someone else's: it really doesn't matter whose it is, it just matters that it gets spilt. It's proof to him that you're serious, that you're not gonna leave and that you're not going to betray him. Although, even if you did betray him, he'd likely forgive you—as long as you could prove that it was an accident, or as long as you'd be willing to feel the same pain....

"Should have known you couldn't leave. We got too much history, you and me."

- Your aforementioned betrayal could come in many forms, but a physical betrayal is the one he'd respect the most. Stabbing him to get away from him or to buy somebody else some time to escape would be the most likely scenario; and the easiest for him to understand since he likely left you with very little choice. When you'd finally go back to him, claiming that you were sorry, he'd make you prove it to him by letting him stab you. So you'd stand there completely still, letting him press a knife against your torso, locking gazes with him until your eyes instinctively squeeze shut at the contact. You'd brace yourself for the pain but the pain would never come, and soon enough, the sharp tip of the blade would leave your skin completely.

"Welcome back, honey," He'd murmur as you slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, watching him put the weapon away before pressing a long kiss to your lips. "Next time I won't be so nice...."

- Andrew likes to show you off so he's not an inherently jealous person. He's fine with people finding you attractive, fine with you wearing whatever you want, and even with you jokingly flirting with people from time to time. But the moment people show too much interest in you, his amusement turns sour. He sobers up, straightens in his seat and turns accusatory. He verbally backs people into corners, confuses them into admitting things they don't even necessarily believe, and then uses their words as an excuse to threaten or attack them. If they're lucky, they escape with only a baffling and slightly frightening interaction weighing heavily on their minds. If they're not, they might not escape at all.

- People having the audacity to try and disrespect him has always amused him, but he never finds it funny whenever they try it with you. Sometimes he'll warn people to "try that one again" whenever they address you rudely; occasionally with a weapon pointed at them in a concerningly casual manner. Other times, he'll wordlessly beat them, prepared to kill them in an attempt to protect your honor. Unfortunately for everyone else in the world, he's always been more of an actions first, words later type of guy.

- The two of you have game plans for every situation you could possibly be in: where to meet if you get separated, what to do if you meet a certain person, etc. You're his everything so he wants to ensure that you're safe, and that he can always find you if something goes wrong.

- Andrews always been an "end of discussion" kind of guy. He leaves no room for argument whenever he's serious about something, and since he's the expert on survivalism and being a fugitive, you usually let him call the shots. When he isn't passionate abut something or convinced that he knows what's best for the two of you, he usually lets you win whatever argument you're having, wanting to stay in your good graces whenever he can.

- The first time you got mad at him, Andrew was amazed by how much you resembled an angry kitten. It made taking you seriously kind of difficult. But, even if he brushes off your attempts to act tough and start a fight, he'll still usually listen to you and correct himself in whatever way you'd wanted him to. The two of you don't fight very often but you do occasionally bicker, usually about silly things that neither of you care very much about.

- After an argument, he usually tries to kiss up to you. He'll sweet talk you, giving you teasing puppy dog faces as he wraps himself around you and/or caresses your skin. He'll tell you jokes, trying to get you to smile or make you laugh, make you loosen up and stop giving him the cold shoulder. He might not apologize, especially if he thinks he did the right thing, but he'll coo at you and tell you he loves you, claiming that whatever he did, he did it "for you". But, if you'd rather an insincere apology, he can give you one of those too.

- He says he loves you pretty often. Maybe not every day, but certainly enough; and usually with a peck on the lips.

- He likes to joke about making babies, but he's never fully joking....

- At the end of the day, Andrew wants a quiet little house away from all the noise. He wants the home, he wants the wife: he wants the domestic little slice of life that everyone promised him he'd have once his tour was up. If the war is really over like everyone says that it is, then he wants what's rightfully his: what was owed to him after years of combat, what he was fighting to come back to after all that time. Once he's sure that it's safe, he wants it all.

[rideboomindia]

RideBoom has implemented several sustainability measures to reduce its environmental impact compared to Uber and Ola. Some of these measures include:

Electric and Hybrid Vehicles: RideBoom has introduced electric and hybrid vehicles into its fleet, which reduces greenhouse gas emissions and noise pollution. This is a unique feature among ride-sharing apps, as most companies rely on traditional fossil-fuel powered vehicles.

Carpooling: RideBoom offers carpooling services, which allow multiple passengers to share rides and reduce the number of vehicles on the road. This not only reduces emissions but also helps to alleviate traffic congestion.

Route Optimization: RideBoom uses advanced route optimization technology to reduce the distance traveled by its vehicles. This helps to reduce fuel consumption, emissions, and wear and tear on the vehicles.

Sustainable Fleet Management: RideBoom has implemented a sustainable fleet management system that ensures all vehicles are properly maintained, which reduces emissions and extends the life of the vehicles.

Carbon Offset: RideBoom has partnered with carbon offset providers to offset the carbon emissions from its operations. This means that for every ton of CO2 emitted, RideBoom invests in projects that reduce greenhouse gas emissions, such as reforestation or renewable energy generation.

Vehicle Scrappage: RideBoom has implemented a vehicle scrappage program, which encourages drivers to retire older, polluting vehicles and replace them with newer, cleaner ones. This helps to reduce emissions and improve air quality.

Driver Training: RideBoom provides training to its drivers on eco-friendly driving practices, such as reducing speed, accelerating smoothly, and avoiding idling. This helps to reduce fuel consumption and emissions.

Partnerships: RideBoom has partnered with local organizations and government agencies to promote sustainable transportation options and reduce emissions in urban areas.

In comparison, Uber and Ola have also implemented some sustainability measures, but they are not as comprehensive as RideBoom's. For example:

Uber has introduced electric and hybrid vehicles into its fleet, but it has not set a target for transitioning to 100% electric vehicles.

Ola has also introduced electric and hybrid vehicles, but its sustainability efforts are more focused on promoting electric vehicles in India.

Both Uber and Ola have implemented carpooling services, but they are not as widespread as RideBoom's carpooling program.

Overall, RideBoom's sustainability efforts are more comprehensive and targeted toward reducing emissions and promoting eco-friendly practices in the ride-sharing industry.

[ancientforgcd]

An eye for an eye makes the world go blind.

🔴Indie Multi-Muse Blog. 🔴Semi-Selective 🔴Featuring Muses from the Cthulhu Mythos, Honkai Series and many more. 🔴Plenty o’ memes, edits, musings and shitposts. 🔴Crossover, AU & OC Friendly. 🔴Mun is 25. 🔴Written by Joy Boy.

「Home || Rules || Muses || Permanent Starter Call || Promo」

Mobile Links: Rules

@ancientloredump is the blog where I sometimes post the Verses of Muses, Organizations and other stuff too!

@rpingmemes side-blog for when i make roleplaying & ask memes

@argentarpg new project and OC of mine by the name of Argenta. A RPG muse that levels up via interactions, quests, etc.

Glossary of Terms & Explanations often used on the Blog:

Vacosian: Vacosians are a near-extinct natural born species of Warriors that made their home in the Ultimate Void, on planet Voidal. A majority of the race was exterminated by the God of Destruction Cerveze, however a handful managed to survive, rendering the race close to extinction. They play a cental role in the Cyverse metaseries, where it is revealed that Ruby and Blair are Vacosians who were sent to Remnant. The best way to describe a Vacosian is to think of them as Outer Gods in humanoid forms. Sometimes they have tails and horns too, but it depends from individual to individual.

Dracontine: Dracontines are a natural born species of highly adaptive warriors that were known among the earliest race to have draconic roots, if not, the earliest known trace that had direct ancestry from Primordial Dragons, before the subspecies division of draconic races had occurred. The Dracontines have been relatively under the radar for a good while after the Draconomachy, in which the total population of the Dracontines took a steep decline. However, at present time, the Dracontine race seem to sit very comfortably, with replenished populations, both in Universe 1 and 12, each residing in their own version of Planet Dracorex on both Universes.

Super Vacosian: Super Vacosian, occasionally known as Ascended Warrior, is a legendary transformation unique to the Vacosian race of both the first and 12th universes. It is the signature transformation of the Vacosians relocated to Remnant, all of whom have been able to achieve the transformation, but was famously first awakened by Ruby Rose during her battle with the evil Fall Maiden, Cinder Fall.

Explanation: It’s why some muses have multiple FCs. On that note, they’re not shapeshifters, but rather think of it like Super Saiyan, just changing hair & eye colors.

Universe 12 Kaioshins: The Kaioshins of Universe 12 are the four divine protectors responsible for maintaining balance across their respective quadrants. Purple Heart, the North Kaioshin, is a calm strategist focused on cosmic order. Black Heart, the South Kaioshin, takes a more direct, forceful approach, often resolving issues through combat. Green Heart, the West Kaioshin, is connected to nature and seeks harmony, intervening only when necessary. White Heart, the East Kaioshin, is known for her fiery temper and battle enthusiasm, yet remains deeply protective of her quadrant. Together, they ensure the stability of Universe 12.

Universal Government: The Universal Government (UG) rules over Universe 12 with absolute authority, led by The Boss, UMI, followed by the 5 Celestial Dragons, the Fleet Admiral, and a strict military hierarchy. The UG governs countless planets and species, enforcing its control through a centralized system that regulates trade, taxes, and resources. Its military is vast, with Admirals and Vice-Admirals crushing rebellion and ensuring compliance across the universe. While the UG ensures peace and order, it does so at the cost of personal freedoms, ruthlessly suppressing dissent to maintain its grip on power throughout Universe 12.

God-Key: God Key (or Grand Key/Divine Key when translated) are ten tools/weapons created by Azathoth, that when brought together, would allow entrance into her domain and  ████,  while  granting each of the 10 wielders  ██████.

Blanchimont Kingdom: The Blanchimont Kingdom, ruled by King Blair, is a vast, continent-sized realm located on Remnant. The kingdom thrives on a balance of tradition and progress, with a strong emphasis on military strength, magical innovation, and a diverse economy. Major cities like Montclair (the capital), Valeford, and Ironvale are hubs of trade, magic, and industry, while the Wyvern Spine Mountains and other natural landmarks provide both resources and defense. Though the kingdom follows the voluntary worship of the Sun and Moon Gods, Blair herself is secular, focusing on personal strength and fairness in her rule. The kingdom’s military is a blend of knights, mages, and specialized forces, all reflecting Blair’s martial prowess and strategic brilliance.

Remnant Dragon Balls: The Remnant Dragon Balls are wish orbs created by the Guardian of Remnant, Kami and were later enhanced upon request by said creator after Ruby asked her for an upgrade. These balls are mainly used on Remnant and were the first type of Dragon Balls used in the metaseries. They have played a major role and impact in the series, being used by a variety of characters, including main protagonist Ruby.

Cosmology: The Cyverse is an expansive universe that draws inspiration from a variety of beloved franchises—such as the Cthulhu Mythos, RWBY, the Dragon Ball series, and the SCP Foundation—infused with my own creative twist. These diverse elements come together to form a distinct and cohesive narrative that stands on its own. Originally, the concept began as a role-playing blog on Tumblr under the name phantxmthief, later evolving into Ancicntforged. Over time, the characters and their stories have captivated an audience, with many eager to explore the life of the Cyverse’s central protagonist, Ruby Rose, along with other key figures. Now, let’s delve into the world of the Cyverse!

[corvusspecialartist]

Planning a Party for the Two Worst People (pt. 1)

You were an Imperial Agent working for the Sigilite. You were not one of the highest ranked, but still up there. You had access of many of the smaller found relics of humanity... trinkets and long lost recipes. To you, it was a miracle that you had made it this far; but compared to the nobility of Terra, you were nothing but a filthy peasant that somehow sneak their way up to the higher ranks.

But never mind that, it was a new day. You were on a personal cruiser waiting for the orders to receive from Terra. Recently, through your efforts, a crucial mission that your colleagues had somehow messed up, but through your skills... you managed to somehow mange to turn the mission around. Honestly, you didn't expect much in terms of a reward, but you hoped that you had... you had been working for the Great Crusade for years... but even then you have had doubts.

You have heard rumors and seen the Marines preform their work. You had seen multiple systems surrender once they heard of the mere mention of certain Legions. You were true to the Crusade, but not the officers that were near it. Often, during your assignments, many of the Imperial men and women often fought and bled in the droves....often to be used to as support for the trans-humans... in your taste.. it kinda rubbed you the wrong way, you were loyal the Emperor's vision yes, but the way you have seen countless men and women struggle to support, only to really be treated more harshly (in some cases) in return.

Shaking those semi treasonous thoughts from the back of your mind, you noted something was different within your work quarters... upon the holo-pict, it was flashing red. An urgent notice. Odd...but you immediately darted over and opened the message. You adjusted your formal uniform and prepared for the message's contents.

A large head appeared from the holopict, its features thin, and having an almost predatory like appearance. Their face had been treated by various medical treatments, but you could detect ancient scaring underneath it all. You tried your best to smile, despite the bile raising up in your throat. The head as if sensing your placidity or just basking in this moment, cleared its through and began to speak.

"I bring great news... a report has been recevied that the Lord Primarchs Konrad and Mortarion have completed joint missions successfully. Due to their grand successes in crushing the xenos... a grand party will be held to celebrate. " You tried to keep your smile wide, despite your thoughts racing... personally you heard rumors and had information on them... but it wasn't until the head finished it

"On the behalf on the Sigilite and as a commanding member of the 606th Exploratory Fleet, Master of the King's Blood... you will plan and host this party for these two primarchs. I will send you the location of where the party will be planned. It will take place around three months from now. Anything that you will buy for this event will not be reimbursed."

The pict said its standard formal salute, and disappeared. You started to laugh... it was almost too absurd of it all, why you? And party planning... it was not your forte after all. But orders were orders, no matter what. Still, it seemed like a complicated way to get rid of a rival, why didn't they just plant treasonous materials on you and send out the Assassins? Why didn't they just slowly grind you down assigning a worthless position?

No. This was meant to a public gruesome execution. You knew that Konrad, leader of the fearsome and based on the reports that you have read, has a nasty habit of brutalizing and tormenting those who may accidentally gain his ire. And, the other guest of honor, Mortarion.. a grim stalwart of a primarch..who's stubbornness and spite put the Master of the Iron Warriors to shame... so that you have been told. Many lifeless planets had been left in the wake whenever the Death Guard battled with the poor souls that drew in their ire.

You sighed getting up and pulled up the location of the ball, it was on Terra of course. You didn't know where it was, but at the very least it was on neutral ground, so the risk of an undue assassination was low. There were so many factors to consider: For an example, making enemies based on who you invited amongst the military and traditional nobility; you certainty had to invite the Mecanicum, and the navigator houses. Still... you had so little time, but you would take on this challenge,for everything depended on it.

[usafphantom2]

The U.S. Air Force Has Released The First Official Images Of The B-52 In Orange Paint Scheme

David CenciottiLast updated: October 4, 2024 1:54 PM

B-52 orange

The B-52 sporting the amazing throwback paint scheme has returned at Barksdale Air Force Base.

As reported in details a few days ago, a U.S. Air Force B-52H Stratofortress bomber was photographed by our friend Rob Stephens at Redhome Aviation, taking off from Tinker Air Force Base, Oklahoma, home of the Oklahoma City Air Logistics Complex, on Sept. 30, 2024 sporting an eye catching paint scheme.

The B-52 sporting the amazing throwback paint scheme has returned at Barksdale Air Force Base.Under testing after six decades of operationsThe previous orange BUFFs

The B-52H 61-0028 “Wolfpack” had forward fuselage, wings near the wingtips, engine nacelles, and vertical stabilizer painted in dayglo orange, contrasting the typical overall dark gray paint of the Stratofortress aircraft. As explained, the bomber was not given any markings, as the “OT” and “49 TES” tail markings, black arrow point on the tail, and “U.S. Air Force” on the fuselage will be applied upon return to Barksdale AFB, Louisiana.

The U.S. Air Force has now released some official images of the test aircraft.

These photographs depict the “throwback B-52” arriving at Barksdale. According to the captions, “the test orange scheme was used to remind everyone of the B-52’s incredible journey and continuous progress made in the U.S. Air Force.”

A B-52H Stratofortress with a special orange paint scheme parks after landing at Barksdale Air Force Base, La., Sept. 30, 2024. The orange paint scheme was used to signify the B-52’s modernization while paying respect to its legacy. (U.S. Air Force photo by Airman 1st Class Aaron Hill)

The B-52 with orange accents that touched down at Barksdale is part of the 49th Test and Evaluation Squadron, which leads operational testing for the bombers.

U.S. Air Force Aircrew from the 49th Test and Evaluation Squadron, 53d Wing, gather beside a U.S. Air Force B-52H Stratofortress with a special orange paint scheme at Barksdale Air Force Base, La. Sept. 30, 2024. The orange color represents a test and evaluation paint scheme based on the test and evaluations conducted during the 1950s and 1960s, honoring the B-52’s history. (U.S. Air Force photo by Airman 1st Class Aaron Hill)

Under testing after six decades of operations

In the next few years, the Air Force plans to modernize its fleet of B-52H bombers with a series of upgrades that will extend the bomber’s service life into the 2050s, by which time the aircraft will be nearing 100 years in operation.

The “new” B-52s will be designated B-52J.

Rolls-Royce F130 engines will replace the aging Pratt & Whitney TF33-PW-103 engines through its remaining operational life, significantly improving fuel efficiency, range, and reducing maintenance costs. Another key upgrade is the installation of a modified version of the APG-79 AESA radar, used in the F/A-18EF Super Hornet. This radar will enhance the B-52’s range and situational awareness while freeing up space for additional electronic warfare capabilities. Externally, the removal of the AN/ASQ-151 Electro-Optical Viewing System (EVS) will streamline the bomber’s appearance, as modern targeting pods have made the EVS obsolete.

Inside, the B-52 cockpit will receive new digital multifunction displays, a hybrid mechanical-to-digital throttle system, new data concentrators, and an upgraded engine management system. While not a fully modern glass cockpit, these upgrades will improve functionality. Additionally, crew size will be reduced from five to four members.

The B-52J will also feature humps near the wing roots, possibly for classified equipment such as satellite communications systems, further enhancing the bomber’s capabilities.

The Air Force aims to complete integration and deliver the first modified B-52s by 2026-2027, with full operational capability anticipated by 2030.

U.S. Air Force Airmen from the 49th Test and Evaluation Squadron, 53rd Wing, gather beside a B-52H Stratofortress with a special orange paint scheme at Barksdale Air Force Base, La. Sept. 30, 2024. The orange color represents a test and evaluation paint scheme based on the test and evaluations conducted during the 1950s and 1960s, honoring the B-52’s history. (U.S. Air Force photo by Airman 1st Class Aaron Hill)

The previous orange BUFFs

In mid-1957, NASA made the decision to replace the B-36 Peacemaker with the B-52 Stratofortress as the launch aircraft for the X-15 hypersonic research program. The B-36 was nearing the end of its operational life, and it was anticipated that finding spare parts to maintain it after retirement would be challenging.

As the X-15 project advanced, two B-52 Stratofortresses, the NB-52A and NB-52B, were chosen to serve as the launch platforms. The NB-52B, designated 52-0008 and nicknamed “The Challenger,” continued in this role until its last mission in November 2004, while the NB-52A, known as “The High and Mighty One” with tail number 52-0003, was retired earlier in 1969. “The High and Mighty One” is still preserved and displayed at the Pima Air & Space Museum in Arizona, with its distinctive orange markings.

High-altitude contrails frame the B-52 mothership as it carries the X-15 aloft for a research flight on 13 April 1960 on Air Force Maj. Robert M. White’s first X-15 flight. The X-15s were air-launched so that they would have enough rocket fuel to reach their high speed and altitude test points. For this early research flight, the X-15 was equipped with a pair of XLR-11 rocket engines until the XLR-99 was available. (Image credit: NASA)

The NB-52B served as an airborne launch platform, essentially acting as a flying launch pad. It operated at altitudes of nine miles, providing the rocket planes it carried with necessary fuels, gases, and electrical power. To handle this role, the right wing of the aircraft was reinforced and equipped with a pylon capable of carrying over 50,000 pounds—approximately a fifth of the aircraft’s total weight. This made the Stratofortress a crucial asset in various aeronautical research endeavors, including those that eventually contributed to the development of the Space Shuttle.

One of the NB-52B’s key contributions was helping validate the Space Shuttle’s steep gliding landings. It accomplished this by launching wingless lifting bodies, which demonstrated that such landings were possible. The aircraft also played a vital role in testing parachutes for recovering the Shuttle’s solid rocket boosters and the drag chute used during Shuttle landings. Despite its increasing age and the growing cost of maintenance, the NB-52B continued to support a wide array of cutting-edge research throughout the 1970s and 1980s, launching drones, remotely piloted vehicles, and experimental payloads.

In addition to its launch duties, the NB-52B was used in research on wake turbulence, served as a target for gunnery exercises, and tested fuel additives aimed at reducing pollution. At one point, it flew with ten engines when additional engines were mounted under the bomb bay for testing purposes. During the X-38 program, the aircraft deployed the largest parafoil in history, with a surface area larger than a Boeing 747’s wing.

The NB-52B’s last mission took place in 2004, when it launched the X-43A, which reached a speed of Mach 9.6 using the most powerful air-breathing engine ever built. After a long and significant career contributing to both aviation and space research, the NB-52B was officially retired on December 17, 2004, during a ceremony at NASA’s Dryden Flight Research Center.

At the time of its retirement, “Balls 8” (a nickname derived from its NASA tail number 52-008, where military slang refers to leading zeroes as “Balls”) was the oldest B-52 still in active service and the only one that wasn’t an H model. It also had the lowest total flight hours of any operational B-52. The aircraft is now displayed permanently near the north gate of Edwards Air Force Base in California.

@TheAviationist.com

[snapmite1998]

Crimson Dawn Fleet Breakdown: Vessel Classes and Their Capabilities

Crimson Dawn’s naval fleet is a critical component of its military strength, combining advanced technology, strategic versatility, and overwhelming firepower. Each class of vessel within the fleet is designed to fulfill specific roles, ensuring that Crimson Dawn maintains dominance in both defensive and offensive operations.

Cruiser Classes and Capabilities

1. Crimson Reaper

- Role: Command Ship

- Capabilities:

- Enhanced Command and Control Systems: The Crimson Reaper is outfitted with state-of-the-art command and control centers that facilitate seamless coordination of fleet operations, real-time tactical decisions, and comprehensive battlefield management.

- Advanced Sensor Suite for Intelligence Gathering: Equipped with cutting-edge sensors, the Crimson Reaper excels at long-range detection, surveillance, and electronic warfare, providing critical intelligence and situational awareness.

- Heavy Armor for Sustained Engagements: Built with reinforced armor plating and redundant systems, the Crimson Reaper can withstand prolonged assaults, serving as a resilient focal point in major battles.

2. Blood Vanguard

- Role: Heavy Assault Cruiser

- Capabilities:

- Powerful Turbolaser Batteries and Missile Launchers: The Blood Vanguard boasts an array of turbolaser batteries and missile launchers, capable of delivering devastating firepower in sustained barrages that can break enemy formations and defenses.

- Excellent Shield Systems: Outfitted with superior shield generators, the Blood Vanguard is designed to endure significant damage while maintaining offensive operations on the front lines.

- Frontline Engagements: Its combination of firepower and defensive capabilities makes the Blood Vanguard ideal for direct confrontation, spearheading assaults against fortified positions.

3. Scarlet Tempest

- Role: Interdiction Cruiser

- Capabilities:

- Equipped with Gravity Well Generators: The Scarlet Tempest plays a crucial role in controlling the battlefield by generating gravity wells that prevent enemy ships from escaping via hyperspace. This ability is essential for trapping enemy fleets and securing strategic positions.

- Advanced Defensive Systems: The Scarlet Tempest features advanced defensive systems, including reinforced shields and rapid-repair modules, ensuring it can sustain prolonged engagements and fulfill its interdiction role effectively.

- Fighter Launch Bays for Support: With multiple fighter launch bays, the Scarlet Tempest can deploy squadrons of starfighters and bombers to provide additional firepower and cover, supporting both offensive and defensive maneuvers.

Role and Strategic Importance within the Fleet

1. Crimson Reaper: The Command Center

- Strategic Coordination: The Crimson Reaper serves as the nerve center of Crimson Dawn’s fleet, coordinating multi-faceted operations and providing strategic oversight.

- Fleet Command: Its advanced command and control systems ensure that fleet commanders can effectively manage and adapt to dynamic battle conditions, making it an indispensable asset in any large-scale engagement.

2. Blood Vanguard: The Heavy Hitter

- Offensive Powerhouse: As the primary assault vessel, the Blood Vanguard’s firepower can shape the course of battles. Its ability to deliver sustained, powerful attacks makes it a key player in offensive campaigns.

- Frontline Defense: The ship’s robust shield systems and heavy armor allow it to absorb enemy fire, protecting more vulnerable vessels and holding strategic points during engagements.

3. Scarlet Tempest: The Battlefield Controller

- Tactical Advantage: By preventing enemy retreat and maneuvering, the Scarlet Tempest grants Crimson Dawn a significant tactical advantage, enabling the fleet to pin down and destroy opposition forces.

- Support Role: Its ability to deploy fighters and provide defensive cover makes it versatile, enhancing overall fleet cohesion and operational effectiveness.

Integration and Coordination

- Unified Command Structure: Each class of vessel operates under a unified command structure led by high-ranking officers of Crimson Dawn. This unity ensures that strategic goals are met through precise coordination and execution.

- Complementary Roles: The cruisers’ capabilities are designed to complement each other. The Crimson Reaper oversees and strategizes, the Blood Vanguard delivers heavy firepower and holds the line, while the Scarlet Tempest controls and secures the battlefield, preventing escapes and providing critical support.

- Versatility and Adaptability: By integrating these varied capabilities, Crimson Dawn can adapt to a wide range of combat scenarios, from large-scale fleet engagements to targeted strikes and blockade operations.

Conclusion

The fleet of Crimson Dawn, characterized by the Crimson Reaper, Blood Vanguard, and Scarlet Tempest cruisers, represents a formidable blend of command, firepower, and tactical control. Each vessel class is meticulously designed to fulfill its role within the broader strategy, ensuring that Maul’s vision of dominance through strength and versatility is realized on the galactic stage.

By harnessing the strengths of each vessel type and ensuring seamless coordination between them, Crimson Dawn’s fleet stands as a powerful instrument of war, capable of delivering decisive blows to the Republic and any other adversaries that stand in their path.

[grawlix-ness]

Nest

How much harm could an appreciative ogle between long-time associates bring?

Word Count: 7,323

Characters: Sleet, Dingo, featuring appearances from Robotnik and a OC

Pairing: Sleet x Dingo

A/N: rated PG - heads up for sexual humor, unabashed pandering to the furry gaze, and implied cartoon bird violence

This is largely meant to be a set-up/introduction to my version of the Underground setting.

Sleet had barely managed to stifle any involuntary squeals during Robotnik's presentation of the Red Whiptail. Modular, capable of traversing multiple biomes. Gleaming cherry-red exterior, optimal voice recognition, rotary plasma cannons, and a sophisticated targeting system. Not to mention the seat warmers. Dingo was not as good at self-control as Sleet was. His unimpressed "I dunno. Looks kinda like a lobster, don't it?" was mortifying.

The wolf covered for him, as he so often found himself doing. "At risk of sounding forward, sir.  I-I humbly request you be patient with him, Your Royal Greatness. Dingo’s a dolt, yes, but he's good for it, I assure you!" Thankfully, Robotnik had acknowledged both interruptions with an annoyed lip twitch and nothing more, leaving them to perform their duties. He must have been in a decent mood.

A shiny, new ship and he successfully talked Robotnik down from roboticizing them. Everything was coming up Sleet. Almost everything, anyway.

"You know," Sleet said, frowning at his hulking accomplice's feet-dragging gait, "you could at least pretend to be enjoying yourself."

Dingo countered. “They could at least make it more fun. Buncha milksops. They don’t even fight!”

“Aristocrats don’t fight.” Sleet, for one, found collecting tribute refreshing. A nice change of pace from tracking Freedom Fighter movement.

Dingo’s response was a caveman-like grunt, as he always did when faced with hard truths and things he couldn’t punch. Sleet rarely saw him this surly. When they were freelancing, Dingo would simply redirect any agitation by way of giving their quarry a generous amount of pummeling. But this particular job didn’t require knuckle dusting, so there was this new dynamic, all this groaning and moaning that Sleet was decidedly not a fan of, even if Dingo’s pouty lips were mildly amusing.

“Why’m I even here if there’s no skulls that need crushing?” He slung a money bag stuffed to its seams over one massive shoulder. “I should be crushing skulls.”

“That’s easy,” Sleet playfully swung his own more manageable bag by his side, drinking in the pleasant clitter-clatter of stolen riches. “You have a discouraging aura.”

Dingo considered this explanation for a beat and then his face soured. “Oi! Are yew tryin’ t’say I stink?” His accent had a tendency to flare up whenever he was upset.

Dimwit, Sleet thought, though with more amusement than ire or disgust. He risked placing a hand on his snarly partner-in-crime’s arm and patted it reassuringly. Dingo’s face softened. “I’m saying you’re the ace up my sleeve. When people see your mug and monstrous physique, they’re more likely to listen, less inclined to cheat in business. And you make a good pack mule. There’s that too.”

“Er, you lost me when you said sleeve,” Dingo admitted. “What’s this about a mug and a mule?”

“Just accept the compliment. I don’t give them often.”

The most recent tributary, a bejeweled goat woman, called out and waved goodbye to them after seeing them off her residence. Despite her gesture, Sleet could tell she was more than a little relieved to see their backs. Her purse-rat yipped profusely under her arm, as purse-rats were wont to do. Sleet was surprised Dingo didn’t bark back. He must really be glum.

“Hey, Sleet?” asked Dingo, as they retraced their steps, passing manicured topiary gardens, marble statues, and a small fleet of Swatbots on patrol.

“Yes, Dingo?” He braced himself to hear a silly question.

“Your hand.”

Sleet looked down and found that he had yet to remove it from Dingo’s bicep. He pulled away posthaste. “I—uh—” Sleet brought a fist to his muzzle to cover a bout of staged throat clearing, then opened his mouth only to come up empty. All the self-assured remarks the wolf tried to muster up evaporated on his tongue, which felt unusually heavy. Out of options, Sleet screwed his mouth shut and ducked away from Dingo’s quizzical gaze. The Red Whiptail coming into view offered a much welcome change of topic.

He thrust his bag into Dingo’s chest—the mutant just barely catching it—then beelined for the vehicle. “Move it. We’re burning daylight.”

 “Hey, wait up! Ain’t daylight su’posed to burn?”

The new car smell was transcendent. Not for the first time, Sleet wafted the scent towards him, as one would when sniffing a fine wine’s bouquet. He sighed relishingly. Who said a military vehicle couldn’t also be a luxury vehicle?

Their last ride was neither. It was supposed to be a tentative arrangement. Sleet’s partnership with Dingo, too, was once intended to be a tentative arrangement. Despite himself, he had a knack for picking up strays and hangers on.  Out of the two blunt objects, Sleet had considerably less amity towards the vehicle, the Dinghy. It wasn’t his first idea for a name, but it stuck, and the title was certainly apt. Dingo liked it well enough, finding humor in their similar sobriquets.

No self-respecting bounty hunter would be caught dead driving a lemon, so whenever anyone of importance asked, Sleet said it was Dingo’s ship.  It might as well have been his. He was in evidence everywhere, what with his crumbs from his foodstuffs on the patched-up seats and yellowed carpeting.  Many a pine tree air freshener tried to make a dent in its corn chip funk-shroud, and all failed.

After storing the Mobium with the rest of the day’s haul, Dingo flopped into his seat with even more inelegance than usual, propping his legs up over the arm of the chair. He reclined, languid and limp. Had it not been for all his lumps, his defined muscles and paunch, he would have resembled an understuffed plush toy.

Sleet squinted at the pitiful creature, shrugged, then went to his respective seat—the driver’s seat in front—and put the Whiptail into gear. It started easily, he noted, whereas the Dinghy tended to resist. “Computer!” Sleet beckoned. “Be a dear and find me a shortcut to the Harrigan Estate.” Hands flourishing, he unconsciously doubled down on his bravado to distract from whatever was going on with Dingo.

A robotic voice monotoned, and Sleet heard Dingo startle a bit. The mutant wasn’t used to all the bells and whistles yet. “Shortcut located.”

The dash lit up. Sleet, humming, skimmed over the projected map, then shooed it away. “That’ll do, computer.” He gripped the Whiptail’s yoke, or joystick as Dingo designated, ever the unsophisticated provincial. Sleet pulled and—

“Y’don’t have to call ‘im that.”

The Red Whiptail settled back to the ground. Sleet peered around his seat. “What?”

“Robotnik. You don’t have to call ‘im Your Excellency. Your Most Brilliantness, Your Mercifulness, all that rot. He’s just a guy.”

Sleet felt almost offended on Robotnik’s behalf.  “Just a guy?”

“He’s just another guy, this is just another job.”

“That is our employer. Be respectful.” No stranger to perfidiousness, he could hardly believe he was saying it himself. In truth, Doctor Julian Robotnik was a commendable individual. A mysterious offworlder with nothing to his name turned iron fist despot overnight. His technology was unmatched, all-powerful. If you weren’t with him, you were against him, and Sleet couldn’t have moved quicker to perish the thought. Who was he to look a gift alien in the mouth? “And anyway, if he’s as smart as they say, he’s probably got this thing bugged. He could be listening in.”

“Well, I don’t respect nobody! ‘Specially not some bloomin’ cue ball nerd! C’mon, Sleet, can’t we, y’know. . .” He pounded a fist into an open palm, then twisted to further flatten the imaginary Robotnik. “Then take the money and run? Like that time when—”

“We can’t always take the money and run.” Just like before, Dingo only grunted. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m looking out for us. The world’s changing, we have to change too. It’s business. And business is . . .”

Dingo finished flatly. “Good. Business is good . . .” He turned away and stared at the wall with the bland, unseeing look of the defeated.

Clearly, the computer was unfamiliar with the term shortcut. When Doctor Robotnik mentioned the Whiptail was experimental, Sleet figured he meant experimental in design, not that it was a prototype.

Surely the Harrigan Estate couldn’t be near a swamp.  Or was it the Harrington Estate? Just as no self-respecting bounty hunter would be caught dead in a lemon, no self-respecting blue blood would be caught anywhere near a swamp.  Maybe it’s a tactic to keep others out, Sleet thought. He wasn’t big on swamps, and it seemed to him most Mobians weren’t either. Smart Mobians anyway. The oppressive heat, the hidden quagmires, the sloshing through leech-rife, waist-high water. The pollen! Barely qualifies as habitable.

For miles and miles, Robotnik’s influence was conspicuous in absence. The swamp must have had nothing of value, or he simply hadn’t gotten to razing it yet. Sleet wasn’t about to pretend to understand the good doctor’s inner machinations. All he was thinking was how flammable swamps were.

One little spark, and it’d light up like a busted fusion ripper on a summer’s day. The hypothetical inferno made Sleet smile. He considered sharing this fantasy with Dingo, knowing how much they both enjoyed wanton destruction. However, he had the feeling this wasn’t the best of times. Their talk from before still loomed over them.

With a sigh, Sleet mentally threw his hands up, choosing to trust the Whiptail and its state-of-the-art specs and kick back a while. All the green was making his eyes glaze over anyway. He put it into autopilot. Every now and then, the gentle and steady hum of the ship’s engine was interrupted by the racket of Dingo’s paddle ball endeavors. Endeavors was truly the most apt word. The mutant’s lack of coordination made the game a nigh indomitable feat. He had wrested the sorry excuse for entertainment out of his rucksack earlier.

Dingo was something of a pack rat, and over the years he had accumulated a veritable collection of junk. His rucksack carried the “essentials”, said essentials largely consisting of late night infomercial and tourist trap goods. At any rate, Sleet was glad Dingo found the paddle ball.

Usually Dingo occupied most if not all of the ride ambience. Rather than the inconstant plonk-plonking of successful paddle ball hits, and the more frequent muttered expletives following the misses, he would fumble his way through retelling a vulgar joke he overheard, or ramble about how unfair it was that companies retired ice cream flavors. Vacuous, unfiltered, and generally one-sided conversations, talking just to talk.

Sleet used to be annoyed by the chatter, but it’d since become a sort of a background noise, familiar and, somehow, comforting. Its absence had made him ill at ease.

The wolf refrained from any probing. Dingo had grown judicious enough over the years to afford him the same wide berth dignity whenever he was discontent. Sleet was returning the favor. Still, the faintest specters of concern continued to mount on his conscience and stir in his chest.

He had a hunch why Dingo was in a mood: The Red Whiptail was a replacement. Robotnik didn’t make his feelings towards their previous vehicle a secret. According to him, it wasn’t even worth scrapping for parts. Why Robotnik was so bothered by its presence in the first place, Sleet didn’t know.  Rules were rules, and rust buckets were expendable.

Sleet wasn’t much for sentimentality. Sentimentality made one soft, he steadfastly believed. He had yet to see anything to convince him otherwise, and he’d sooner die than chance it. Try as he might, Sleet’s teachings didn’t rub off on Dingo in the slightest. Although, very little in general managed to get through his thick skull.

Indeed, Dingo was a sap, sentimental to an excess. He would hole up in his quarters for hours on end, tending to his scrapbooks, getting glitter and glue all over the place because his ham hands weren’t made for precision work. He would go into gift shops and try on shirts, before remembering he doesn’t like shirts, hanging the eviscerated aftermath back on the rack and opting for something dinky and juvenile to put on the dashboard instead.  He would make up anniversaries and get upset when Sleet didn’t remember. It was pathetic, really. Embarrassing.

The big lug was so engrossed with mementos, that he wore his signature ratty pair of green shorts as a symbol of mutual growth. Earlier in their partnership, they would fight. If Sleet was ticked off enough, and he knew he had the high ground, things got physical, and clothes got tattered. Now, Dingo, overly affectionate oddity that he was, refused to have his shorts mended, even though Sleet had offered several times.  It was absurd. Infuriating! He had to be doing it just to get under his skin.

But the pants did look good on him.

Real good.

Sleet wasn’t used to being behind such a clear windshield. The Dinghy had accumulated so much grime over the course of their misadventures Sleet had abandoned the idea of ever cleaning it—rain existed for a reason, and that reason was to clean stuff he didn’t have the time nor patience for. Dingo thought the muck gave it character, so he too rebuffed the notion. Thus Sleet rarely ever saw Dingo’s reflection, let alone his own.  In the Red Whiptail, however, he found himself staring. Naturally, being a mountain of muscle, there was a whole lot of Dingo to stare at.

The way his tongue peeked out between his plump lips as he focused on the ball, the way his arm muscles clenched with every successful bounce, the way his emerald eyes glimmered, rapt, ablaze with intensity. . .

How much harm could an appreciative ogle between long-time associates bring? Or an unwitting bicep grope for that matter? Sleet was merely admiring Dingo’s continued bulking efforts.

He’d been too busy reassuring himself of this to notice the incoming flock of reptavians. So transfixed was Sleet, he scarcely registered that Dingo cried out, “Bird strike!” The volume of it was just enough to wrest him from his daze. He didn’t take evasive action in time. The Whiptail was bombarded by a panicked, fluttering mass of feathers, scales, and sharp, little talons. It careened, Sleet having overcalculated his swerve, and spiraled, quickly losing altitude, dropping like a stone. All the while, adding to the confusion, the ship’s alarms blared ear-bleedingly loud and its lights flashed a harsh, angry-looking red.

“Pull up, pull up, pull up! Computer, do something!” cried Sleet, hands aggressively taut around the yokestick. “Useless—TREE! TREE!”

There were in fact trees, plural, on account of them crashing into the swamp’s dense canopy. Much ooching and ouching and eeking was had, the latter mostly coming from the panic-stricken driver. After practically hitting every tree branch, The Red Whiptail collided with the earth and rolled over at least thrice, jostling wolf and mutant dog about, before hydroplaning into what could only be described as a glorified mud pit.

Miraculously, it had landed right side up. Its engine made a planiative, shuddering sound, something of a robotic death rattle. The alarms began to fade, but Sleet couldn’t appreciate the auditorial reprieve, for his heartbeat was pounding in his ear.

It wasn’t until Dingo piped up again, cheering and hooting, that Sleet fully understood the sorry state of affairs his unrestrained ogling had gotten them into. “Woo-hoo!” The mutant banged excitedly on his armrests. “What a rush! Let’s do that again!” Only he could find good cheer in a crash landing.

“No!” Sleet whirled on him, seat swiveling. He made a big X gesture with his arms then emphatically slashed the air. Dingo flinched and shrunk down. “No woo-hoo! You fool, this is the least opportune time to woo-hoo! This is no woo-hooing matter!”

There was a beat of silence, barring the muted sirens of the Whiptail and the squelching of pond scum settling around its hull. Dingo fiddled awkwardly with two fingers, poking their tips together. His encore was hushed.  “Woo-hoo. . .”

Sleet placed his head in his hands, pulled down on his eyelids, and let vent something between a wail and a groan. Behind him, the once-immaculate windshield creaked, laden with scratches and reptavian-shaped smears. He couldn’t bear to look at it. How could he have crashed the Whiptail on the very first day of owning it? What am I going to tell Robotnik? He’ll be incensed!

Dingo seemingly read his mind. “Pfft!” He waved a dismissive hand. “It’ll be fine! Tell ‘im the bloody thing fell on its own. Dropped right outta the sky. I’ve seen ships do it before.”

“What?!” Sleet lifted his head, reeling back at the very notion. “And insult his craftsmanship? No, I’m not doing that.”

The mutant remained adamant. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Sleet. We’ve been in stickier situations.” His eyes lit up with delayed realization. “Hah! Sticky!”

“Mm, yes, you’re quite the comedian, aren’t you?” said Sleet dryly. “A regular cut-up.”

Predictably, Dingo took no offense, grinning proudly instead. Sarcasm was not something he trafficked in. “Hehe, yeah!”

Sleet muttered a few tired nothings. Blast it all. Blast the glass for being so clean! Blast his loins for being so fallible!  Why’d his body choose today of all days to turn to mush? Or was it his brain? The difference didn’t matter.  He was angry at himself, scientific musings notwithstanding.

Grumbling, the wolf stood on his seat, popped open the Whiptail’s dome, and peered out. Straight away, muggy swamp air assailed his nose, and he recoiled at the stench. Reptavians, superficially turkey-like in countenance and with long tails that echoed that of anole lizards, honked indignantly from the surrounding trees, collision victims turned spectators. With the resonating knob on their beaks, they created a strange, distorted racket, like geese trapped in an h-vac.

“I don’t think they’re happy with you, Sleet,” observed Dingo.

“You,” Sleet glared at him over his shoulder, “stay put. I don’t want your poundage rocking the boat, so to speak. And don’t touch anything!”

Dingo sighed, his earlier melancholy returning to his voice. He craved action. Badly, judging by the saliva that eked from his mouth. The mutant looked down and accepted reluctantly. “Righto.”

After bidding Dingo a satisfied nod, Sleet, grunting not of effort but of exasperation, hefted himself up on top of the Whiptail and perched.

Smoke was pouring out from beneath it, and its conduits hissed. The wings, though heavily dented, were still intact. Most striking of all was the abundance of iridescent feathers littering its entirety. If the initial blunt force trauma hadn’t done the pests in, the thrusters certainly did, a scent similar to cooked poultry faint on the air.

A pair of talons swooped down, ripping free a lock of hair. Before he could even yelp, another zipped past and grazed his ears.

“Hey!” Sleet shook a fist toward the sky. “Do you have any idea how long that takes to coif? How much hairspray I go through?!” A third reptavian zipped towards him. He batted it away, only for another to quickly take its place and nick his nose. “Ow! Lousy lizard-chickens! I—” His posturing was undercut by a rapid-fire succession of violent sneezes, during which Sleet’s foot slipped. He teetered over with a gasp, arms windmilling desperately.

“I gotcha!” Unusually timely and accurate, Dingo caught him by his cape before he fell into the murky, curdled water. Sleet scrabbled up to safety next to him. The ship had dipped a little at Dingo’s bulk, not enough to cause alarm. Once recomposed, the wolf gave him a small nod, mumbling agreeably. An approximation of a thank you.  

Dingo was versed enough with Sleet’s shorthand. “Anytime, mate.” He knew it was silly, but the Trailian addressment always gave him pause. The wolf hoped it didn’t show in his face. “It’s guivre nestin’ season. They’re prob’ly flying someplace hotter.” Sleet’s face thankfully appeared to be the last thing on his mind. Dingo had a stint in the Quokka Scouts as a pup. He was quick to remind Sleet whenever he got a chance. The usefulness of these wildlife facts fluctuated. “Guivre use the heat from volcanic vents to warm their eggs. At least that’s what I heard on the nature channel. Er, when there was a nature channel. Hey, did you know they’re menoguh . . . manipedi. . . they don’t ever break up! S’real romantic.”

“Their coupling patterns are of no concern to me. Do these beasts eat Mobians? Are they venomous?”

“No, but they do keep grudges.”

Sleet glanced balefully up at the guivre that continued to circle. “I can relate,” he said, raising his gun. Instead of a volley of blaster bolts he produced a volley of sneezes, the force of which knocked him back unceremoniously onto his tail and elicited a sympathetic “ooo” noise from his partner.

The honks from the trees suddenly sounded a lot like laughter. Sails deflated, Sleet returned his gun to its holster and glumly wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He winced at the abrasiveness; gauntlets didn’t make for good tissues.

“Gee, Sleet,” remarked Dingo, voice softer now, “ya comin’ down with something?”

Sleet growled. “I don’t get sick! I haven’t been sick since I was a pup. It’s allergies. Clearly. From the pollen.” He gave him a pointed look. “Although it certainly doesn’t help that you shed everywhere.”

Dingo’s shoulders sagged. “Sorry.”

A lesser individual may have faltered at this display, at those wibbly, apologetic eyes and wilted ears. Sleet was no lesser individual, he vehemently reminded himself. “You ought to be.” There was some ice to it, a bit more than he intended.

Not enough ice to dissuade Dingo. Stubborn thing. “Can I make it up to you?”

He sighed. “Your tenacity is nothing short of unspeakable.” Sleet oscillated between finding said idiosyncrasy moderately admirable or extremely obnoxious. One thing was certain: Dingo was an interesting specimen.  

The mutant’s thick brows briefly furrowed in consternation, the telltale sign he wasn’t sure if Sleet had complimented or insulted him, and then he smiled. “You won’t regret it. Promise.”

“Heh,” Sleet sniffed, partly out of wry amusement, partly because of nasal drip. “Just be quiet and stay out of the way. I need to make a call.”

“Y’sure I can’t just push us outta the muck? Turn me into a tugboat or something?”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but the last time we tried something like that you ripped the Dinghy in two. I’d rather not risk it with the good doctor’s gift. Save your strehn. . . s-streeENG. . . ACH–CHOO!” That one hurt. Luckily, the loudness of the sternutation spooked the remaining guivre off. Vengeance another time then, Sleet decided, massaging his aching temples.

“Gadzook’s height.”

The malapropism caught Sleet unawares, and he choked back a laugh. Dimwit. “You always know just what to say.”

 Dingo beamed at this. Sleet found it hard not to smile back.

Dressed down to his one-piece undersuit, Sleet untangled himself from his seat—as his condition worsened, he’d taken a page out of Dingo’s book and tried becoming a droopy plush toy. It wasn’t as comfortable as his colleague had made it look.

The computer’s voice recognition was off, as was the air conditioning. Against his and his sweat-soused neck’s wishes, the Red Whiptail had automatically shifted into a hibernative state, reserving its power. He could have barred that by switching a few levels and turning a few dials. Or so he presumed anyway; Sleet never read manuals in their entirety.

 Its mutiny was for the best, he begrudgingly accepted. Sleet knew he might not have been able to make his important call otherwise.

Torque was an old friend. Something like that, at any rate. The tamarin mechanic was at least sixty percent more reliable than anyone else Sleet and Dingo regularly associated with. She’d always been good to them when gigs were slim, and even before that, when Sleet was a pup, she looked out for him.

Well, “looking out for” was a relative term.

She was a businesswoman first and foremost, a grandmotherly figure second. It was clear to him in retrospect she’d kept him around during his early years because he was small and limber, good for squeezing into tight fits, such as rusty old carburetors or the air vents of competing repair businesses.

Eventually, Sleet got too big for vents and too restless for simple espionage jobs. Bounty hunting scratched his adrenaline itch and put larger sums of money on the table. In spite of the less agreeable occupational hazards, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

I probably wouldn’t have met Dingo, Sleet thought, and he felt something within his chest bloom, almost flutter. The moment was short-lived. Curse him and his soppy sappiness! Alone for five minutes and I start skipping down memory lane! He shook off, shook his head free of any more cerebral peregrinations. Sleet immediately regretted doing so, temples aching in protest. Once everything stopped spinning, he looked at the control panel’s touch display and swallowed, half-nausea, half-trepidation, then punched in the comlink number.

The video feed, produced in front of the ship’s windowpane via a projector nodule, didn’t buffer long before he was greeted with the industrial, and impossibly greasy, trappings of the shop floor and his potential savior’s begoggled face.

Her dark mustard boilersuit was shopworn and scungy, begrimed from all manner of motor oil. Torque’s right arm was a robotic limb discreetly kitted out with multitool upon multitool—total overkill in Sleet’s opinion, but Dingo found it ceaselessly fascinating. Its metallic fingers preened at the sweeping ashen mustache sprouting from her muzzle, grayed from both age and wayward embers oft ensnared in the wispy vibrissa.

Behind her, proletarians of various stripes and sizes grubbed away, dismantling, rebuilding, and barking at one another for tools. Primates made up the bulk of the machinist field, though it was not uncommon to see members of the procyon and muridae families also among the ranks. It was generally believed these groups were more dexterous, light-handed. Whether or not the theory held water was anyone’s guess. Those with nimble fingers certainly weren’t in a rush to test it and risk their financial security.

“Sleet. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her low, craggy voice was presumably the result of years of unchecked smoke inhalation and caterwauling at employees. Or customers, if she was so inclined. Aged to a register as murky as her vigilance to health code violations, she always either sounded annoyed or deeply uninterested. She pushed her eyewear up to her forehead and studied him for a moment, finishing with a snort. “You look like crap.”

“You’re a paragon of grace as always, Torque.”

The tamarin nearly cut him off. “You sound like crap too. Where’s your better half?”

And Torque likely meant that literally. Dingo was a sucker, and she found his negotiating skills not only hilarious but profitable. He enjoyed her company well enough too, mostly because she always had sweets on her. Sleet partook in no such thing; his palate was far too refined for grandma candies, and monkey hair and pocket lint inevitably found their way inside the wrappers.

“You won’t be borrowing him anytime soon,” Sleet puffed out his chest with some difficulty, a rasp leaving his lungs. It wasn’t easy to boast with congestion. “We’re full-timers now.”

“I heard. Congratulations on becoming a lap dog. I was hoping you’d come to your senses before that robot-obsessed screwloose made it official.”

“Come to my senses? I see things more clearly than ever before. My place is by Robotnik’s side. Not piddling about with yokels.”

“That’s what they all say. You see one dictator, you’ve seen ‘em all.” This left Sleet to wonder how old she was. Wonder was all he could do, since when he last gave into curiosity and asked, she shot him the ugliest look and charged extra on the Dinghy’s tuneup.

“Yes, well, that robot-obsessed screwloose is developing weapons beyond comprehension and has surveillance everywhere, so I advise you hold your tongue.”

“I’ll sleep on it. Enough about Robotnik. I'm assuming you didn’t call to catch up with a—what was that quaint word you used? Yokel?”

“Our ship’s bogged.” He withheld the details, knowing he would never hear the end of it otherwise. “We need a lift.”

“Why don’t you ask your dear friend Robotnik?” She paused, then laughed. “It’s one of his ships, isn’t it?” The laugh quickly became a cackle. “You always were bad at taking sharp turns! Like that time when—”

Sleet interrupted before she could finish any embarrassing aerial anecdotes.  “I’m not asking Robotnik because you still owe us after that live transport fiasco, remember? As if I needed another slobbering beast to care for.”

“Huh. I do? Musta slipped my mind.” She scratched her face, jostling free a swath of soot and dandruff. The sight made Sleet’s nose itch.

“Yes, your mind does lean slippery.”

She laughed again, quieter, more of a chuff. It carried a note of wistfulness. “Takes one to know one. Alright, Mr. Big Shot, once I pinpoint your coordinates I’ll send my boys right over.”

“Right over?”

“Right over.”

“Meaning removal and repair for free. That’s how favors work. No fees, no tax. No catches.”

“You wound me, Sleet. I’m not that bad.”

“You’re right. You’re worse.”

Torque smiled broadly, displaying her canines’ dental crowns. The projection failed to accurately translate how the golden prosthetics shimmered in person. “We yokels have to make ends meet somehow. But I accept your terms, as lously expressed as they were. Drink some tea or something, kid.”

Sleet stopped her before she disconnected. “How is it?”

Her simian face scrunched in confusion. It took her a moment to catch his drift. When she did, Torque jabbed a finger at him and waved it up and down, clearly vindicated. “I knew you’d miss that bucket of bolts. She’s fine. Rusty as ever. Untouched. Unsold.” The tamarin played with her whiskers, saying mock-longingly, “Not a huge market for us biddies.”

“I don’t miss it. I’m not asking for myself, I’m asking for Di. . . ” He trailed off. “I’m asking about my cut of the sale.”

Torque looked unconvinced. She didn’t linger on it though. “Take care of yourself, Sleet.” Her voice held a somewhat bittersweet affect that Sleet wasn’t sure if his increasingly foggy brain imagined.

They both got off the line. Sleet stared at the blank projector for a moment longer, then turned away and quietly fumed. “Better half . . . bah!” He crossed his arms. “Even if it were true, I’d be the better half.”

And yet, he heard it so often. There had been a time when Sleet sharply corrected positors of such a ludicrous idea, but he’d since grown slack in rectifying the flying rumors. They were harmless, and he’d be a fool to pass down all the deals and discounts awarded to couples. Dingo, thankfully, was none the wiser to the innuendos other bounty hunters sent their way.

It wasn’t real. It would never be real.

There were moments. Moments of weakness, fleeting moments that he kicked himself into forgetting. He was deep in a moment right now for pity’s sake, sitting inside the evidence. As much as he wanted to blame the birds, he was . . . at least partially responsible for the crash.

His headache surged. Sleet took it as his cue to stop navel-gazing so hard over the L-word. You are a bounty hunter. You are not some lovesick pup. You are not weak.

Then the comm chimed. He answered without checking the address. “I swear, if this is about honeymoon spots again. . . for the last time, Torque, we’re not—”

“AHEM.”

Sleet’s ears sprung erect, and his heart propelled itself into his throat. “Your Grace!” The wolf jumped out of his seat and issued his choreographed greeting at once, dropping into a slight curtsy. His ingratiation was sloppier than he would have liked, betrayed by the headrush he received in doing so. He rose. “S-sincerest apologies, Your Majesty, I thought you were someone else.”

Robotnik’s decent mood had come and gone. “What’s the holdup?! You should have been back ages ago, have you collected my tribute or NOT?!” Literally red in the face, he slammed down a fist on one of his throne’s arm rests. “I didn’t give you that ship for joyriding!”

“I would never, I assure you. Dingo might, but not me. I’m the conniving one.”

“I don’t care what you are! You’ll be the roboticized one if you don’t give me a good excuse for your delinquency!”

“I’m doing double duty,” Sleet said, partly expecting to hear a snicker from over his shoulder. Dingo could never keep it together at the mention of the word duty. Thankfully the mutant was still away, presumably chewing on rocks and harassing the local wildlife.

Sleet wasn’t familiar with human facial expressions—Robotnik was the only one he’d ever encountered—but it seemed to him that the man looked intrigued, his brow having arched. “Double duty?”

He straightened, feeling confident about the baited hook he set. “Collecting tribute and running recon. My file mentioned my expertise in cloak and dagger activities, yes?”

The tyrant’s frown returned, and he sighed. “I have surveillance bots for that.”

“Surveillance bots are not as personable as me, sire. Inorganic beings often cannot engage in amenable conversation with organic beings. I know people. I know how to get them talking, keep them talking.”

There was a pregnant pause as Robotnik appeared to consider Sleet’s explanation, fingers interlaced. His flushed color subsided. Finally, he said in a stony, hushed tone, “If I find out you’re lying . . .”

Sleet suddenly found himself too fatigued to be threatened. Body temperature flaring, the cold floor of the Red Whiptail was calling his name. Perhaps he could use his cape as a makeshift blanket if he got too frigid. With the first suggestions of sunset, the swamp wasn’t as warm as it’d been. He rubbed at a puffy eye and said. “I’ll be roboticized, I understand, sire.”

At the sound of flapping wings, Sleet jolted from his fugue state. His breath caught. Had the lizard-chickens come back? To finish him off in his weakened state?

Instead of a vengeful flock of reptavians, however, only one large, orange pelican with a heavily distended pouch approached the window. The evening sky echoed its color. It landed ontop the hull and, through purple spectacles, peered expectantly inside.  

Groaning, the wolf got to his feet, stalked over to the dashboard, and pressed the button that opened the dome. Some of the Whiptail’s controls were still functional. The list was growing thin.

“Where have you been?” Sleet scowled at his transmutated partner as he descended from the roof.  “And why a bird? After what happened earlier, I could have shot you!”

“I was a bird when I left. Easier to trav—”

“I was starting to worry!”

The pseudo-seabird roused, giving his wings a good shake, then waddled closer. Sleet made a frustrated noise at the down that Dingo-Pelican produced. Hadn’t they just discussed shedding?

 “Aww, you were worried about me?” Dingo’s voice was somewhat garbled, as one might sound when talking around a jawbreaker.

Sleet’s nape bristled. “No!” The exclamation came out shriller than intended. His chagrin, and the heat that stole over his face, doubled. He was glad his fur was thick enough to hide his blushing. “I was starting to get worried you’d gotten ME into trouble. Starting being the operative word.”

“Trouble’s exciting! Trouble’s good! Good like business! And even if I did, I’d get you out of it anyway.”

This was true. Dingo’s relative indestructibility and dogged loyalty came through. Sleet could always count on him to make a dramatic entrance, do a little rampaging here, a little rampaging there, bash a few more skulls, and then whisk him away.

He could also always count on him to give him stress-induced split ends.

“Whatever. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Dingo-Pelican dumped his gular pouch’s contents on the floor—his rucksack, and shockingly clean, too—then turned to Sleet and spread his wings wide. Sleet was also versed in Dingo’s shorthand: zap me. Once returned to form, the mutant reached inside the bag, extracted a thermos, and presented it proudly. “I made ya soup.”

Sleet had sat back down against the wall. “I’m not sick, Dingo. It’s allergies.” A meaty paw extended the thermos anyway. Stubborn thing. The wolf accepted his offering, eying it suspiciously. “This wouldn’t happen to be poison, would it? You’re not exactly discriminating with your ingredients.”

“Poison?!” Dingo barked out a huge laugh that made Sleet’s ears flatten and pull back. Having an inside voice wasn’t a concept Dingo subscribed to.  “You’re such a kidder! That’s a good one, Sleet. Naw, it’s vegetable soup. S’made with love.”

“Mhm, right. So, poison.”

He laughed again before sitting down next to Sleet and explaining, “I know you have a delicate, non-mutant stomach, so I didn’t use anythin’ exotic. No swamp ingredients. I use fresh veggies in my protein shakes, plain regular stuff. I packed some o’ those. Oh, by the way, the mini kitchen gadgets you said were a load of hooey work like a charm. You owe Mr. Blendy and his friends an apology.” The instant of sass was just that, an instant, and Dingo returned to his usual congeniality. “Anyway, I figured I could maybe skip the shake today if it means I’d help a friend.”

Sleet hitched slightly. Not at the word, but at how earnestly he said it.

“Well, go ahead! Drink up! Doctor’s orders.”

He would have quipped about his lack of a medical license, except now that he had the thermos in his hands he was feeling peckish. Can’t be that bad, he thought. Dingo was a decent chef when he wasn’t making up his own abnormal recipes.

Sleet uncapped the flask. Steam rose to greet him. He breathed it in, and his sinuses rejoiced at having a homespun humidifier. Turned out there was a smell better than new car. Sleet gave the soup a slow, experimental sip, then hummed in surprised delight and eagerly went for more.

It was savory, sapid, the hearty bouillon a balm for his throat and his spirit. Could be even better with meat. He considered briefly what guivre tasted like, then thought better of it. Cantankerous as they were, their texture would likely be too tough.

He eased his head back and sighed, eyes momentarily closing in tranquility, an emotion Sleet found all too rare a commodity. “I needed this. Thanks. My friend.” He realized how clipped his gratitude sounded and winced a little at its inacquency. Giving thanks that weren’t dripping in sarcasm was difficult.

Dr. Dingo was pleased regardless, a full-toothed grin breaking across his face. Patient satisfied, he went about feeding himself, chomping into some oddly-shaped swampy fruit or vegetable or something or other he had pulled from his bag. It squirted out juice, a speck of which catapulted onto Sleet’s cheek. On any other day, that would have been a shoutworthy offense. Instead, Sleet observed that he was only slightly irked and wiped it away.

For a while they sat like that, enjoying their repast in relative silence—Dingo’s tusks and jowls often exacerbated his mouth sounds, and Sleet’s sniffles hadn’t altogether abated yet.

Then, the mutant paused and looked thoughtfully at his tuber thing’s half-eaten carcass. Sleet had never seen him so pensive before.

“Hey, um, Sleet?” said Dingo abruptly, rubbing his thumb across the thing’s skin in a self-soothing manner. “I’m sorry, for being kinda a butt earlier. I’m just not used to all o’ this change. S’all happened so fast. We had a routine, y’know? This Robotnik bloke, he’s come in and turned everythin’ upside down.

“When he said to get rid o’ the Dinghy, I wanted to throttle ‘im so bad. If it were up t’me, I woulda clobbered the conehead after he shot at our feet. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, shoots at our feet!”

With one emphatic squeeze, the malformed kiwi burst. He let its green puréed meat slip through the gaps between his fingers, massive chest expanding and contracting with ragged breaths that sounded more apt for a bull than any canine.

Something within Sleet squirmed. Frissons rippled up his back. Fear? Titillation? He readily accepted the former.

Dingo relaxed his hand and quickly rebounded from his sudden bestial spell, paying no mind to Sleet’s saucer eyes or bobbing throat. “But you seem so . . . ” He wiped his sullied hand on his pants and made an indecisive noise. “I’unno, what’s it called? Fulfilled? I’m not good with vocabulistuaries. Look, what I’m tryna say is, I don’t wanna lose this” — the mutant gestured between, vacillating— “I don’t wanna lose us, lose our thing.”

The mangling of the word vocabulary wrenched Sleet from his stupor. “Our thing?”

“Y’know, our thing. Our groove.”

“Our dynamic?”

Dingo nodded solemnly, gaze averting again.

“Muffinbrain,” Sleet lightly punched Dingo’s arm, “I’m not going anywhere. This new job isn’t as perfect as I hoped. I didn’t appreciate being shot at either. But an opportunity like this comes once in a lifetime. Not to mention, Robotnik will have us roboticized if we say otherwise.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about that part.”

“Precisely why I’m staying. You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached.”

He snickered before affirming, “Yeah, you’re always looking out for me.”

Again, the earnesty, how he spoke with his whole big, bleeding heart. It seemed to come so effortlessly to Dingo. Sleet didn’t know whether to be jealous or sickened of his abilities or warmed by it. Warmed appeared to be in the lead as the wolf continued, albeit slowly. “I’ve acquired, well . . . I’ve developed a slight fondness for your company. It’d be difficult, I think, to find a new partner. You’re irreplaceable.” How on Mobius does he do that? That was like pulling teeth!

Dingo’s teary-eyed look was not unexpected. He collected himself, straightening. His spirit renewed, he endeavored to let the whole world know it. “That’s right! No sweaty pink humie is gonna tear Sleet and Dingo apart! Dinghy or no Dinghy, we’re a team!”

Sleet pinned his ears back again. “Volume.” Dingo repeated his declaration in a whisper, eliciting a sigh and headshake of fond exasperation. After a moment, the wolf admitted. “We did have some good times in that cruddy thing.” It was certainly more roomy.

Dingo agreed, then prompted with a little gasp, “Hey, y’know somethin’? We’re sorta like the guivre. They’re moving on because there’s better nesting grounds. We’re moving on too.”

He stroked his goatee in consideration. “I suppose that’s a suitable comparison, yes. Though I’m certainly much more handsome than those scabrous buzzards—did you see the wattles on those things?”

Dingo belly laughed. “Yeah, they’re ugly!”

Sleet joined in as well, though less vociferous. For a considerable duration, they were overcome with mirth, practically falling over each other. When it ebbed away in winded wheezes and hoos, Sleet became acutely aware of Dingo’s close proximity. Aware of the sweet, citrusy scent lacing his breath, of the lush fur over his frightfully squeezable, robust physique. Aware of his eyes, beauteous, like the burning core of a Thermal Obliterator 2000. Sleet tensed, and Dingo, pressed against his side, belatedly realized his transgression.

Just as the penitent mutant made to scoot away, Sleet hooked an arm around his personal space invader’s wide torso as best he could and pulled him back into place, leaning his wearied head against his shoulder. It was a move that surprised them both.

Any second thoughts Sleet had volatilized upon snuggling into Dingo’s wrinkly ruff. “Forget pack mule,” he breathed, “you make an even better pillow.”

“Hohhh, Sleet!” Dingo’s wagging tail thrummed against the floor. “That’s so sweet of you to say!”

When Torque’s boys arrived, a part of Sleet was a little disappointed they were uncharacteristically punctual, but soon his more rational side won out. If they hadn’t shown up, he might not have ever let go.

[bennnharris]

What Is EV Charging Management Software?

Let’s get one thing out of the way EV charging isn’t just about plugging into a socket and walking away. Behind that simple user experience is a whole ecosystem that needs to run like a well-oiled (or should we say, well-charged) machine. That’s where EV charging management software steps in.

Think of it as the backend control room that powers everything from session tracking to billing, charger health, and even the queue at your nearest public station. Whether you’re managing a single station or hundreds across locations, this software is what keeps operations clean, trackable, and profitable.

Let’s break this down properly and make sense of what matters especially if you’re planning to get into the EV game with some business sense, not just shiny dashboards.

What is EV Charging Management Software, Really?

In simple words, EV Charging Management Software (CMS) is a centralized system that lets charging station owners, operators, and businesses manage, monitor, and monetize their EV charging infrastructure.

It does everything from:

Authorizing users and vehicles

Monitoring energy usage

Managing peak loads

Automating billing and invoicing

Handling remote diagnostics

And integrating with apps, wallets, and CRM tools

Without it, you'd be managing your EV chargers with spreadsheets, phone calls, and prayers.

Who Needs It?

If you're a fleet operator, public charging station owner, commercial building manager, or even a residential society exploring EV readiness this software isn't a luxury. It's survival gear.

And yes, government projects, retail malls, parking lots, and logistics parks are all getting in on it.

You want uptime, transparency, and ROI? You need a CMS that plays nice with your hardware and grows as your needs change.

What Problems Does It Solve?

Here’s where we skip the fluff and talk about real issues.

1. Energy Load Management

Uncontrolled EV charging can blow up your utility bill or trip the local transformer. CMS helps you control how much energy flows where and when without causing grid panic.

2. Charger Downtime

No operator wants to get that “your charger isn’t working” call at 2 AM. A solid CMS alerts you before users complain. Remote diagnostics and health checks are baked in.

3. User Authentication & Payments

Want to let only subscribed users charge? Want to integrate UPI, cards, or in-app wallets? A proper CMS does all that without you writing a single line of code.

4. Revenue Leakage

Imagine running a business where you're not sure who paid, how much power was delivered, or how many sessions failed. A CMS gives you transaction-level visibility. No guessing games.

5. Scalability

Planning to go from 5 chargers to 50? From 1 location to 12 cities? Your CMS better be ready before your Excel sheet dies of stress.

Must-Have Features (Beyond Just “Dashboard Looks Cool”)

A good EV CMS isn't just eye candy. Here's what you should be checking for:

OCPP Compliance: Plays well with most hardware brands

Dynamic Load Balancing: Keeps your power use smart and optimized

Real-time Monitoring: Know what’s happening where, second by second

Custom Pricing Models: Per minute, per kWh, time-of-day rates you control the game

Fleet & Group Management: Especially if you're running EV fleets or shared chargers

User Access Control: Set roles, permissions, and access levels

White-label Option: Your brand, your logo, your rules

So, Who’s Doing It Right?

There are plenty of software platforms out there that’ll promise the moon until you actually plug them in. But a few players are doing it with serious focus on customization, clean architecture, and real customer support.

Stellen Infotech: Quietly Building the Backbone for EV Ops

While most are busy chasing investor buzzwords, Stellen Infotech is quietly building robust, scalable, and adaptable EV charging software solutions for businesses that actually need to function in the real world.

They’re not just slapping a UI on top of code and calling it a platform. Their stack includes features like:

Custom-built integrations for fleets

White-labeled dashboards

Load optimization modules

Billing and invoicing flexibility

API support for third-party logistics, CRMs, or payment apps

The vibe? Practical tech that doesn’t crash when you scale or cry when you run 100 sessions a day. You’ll notice they’re not trying to be the flashiest just the most dependable in the room. And that’s honestly what most businesses want when dealing with critical infrastructure.

Can’t I Just Build This Myself?

Sure, if you’re sitting on a dev team with grid logic, payment gateway knowledge, OCPP expertise, and UI chops. Otherwise, you’ll spend 18 months burning money, and still end up with something half-baked.

EV management is not just a software challenge it’s a compliance, connectivity, and customer experience challenge. You’re better off working with a team that already figured that out.

What About Hardware Compatibility?

The good ones like Stellen’s platform are built to support OCPP 1.6 and 2.0, meaning they work with a wide range of chargers. You’re not locked into one brand or vendor, which is great because EV hardware isn’t cheap and upgrading just for software issues is bad business.

Final Thoughts: Where This Is Headed

EV charging isn't a novelty anymore. With mandates, subsidies, and rising fuel prices, we’re going to see charging stations pop up like ATMs did in the 2000s. But here’s the thing the ones who’ll stay profitable aren’t the ones who bought the fanciest chargers. It’s the ones who run them smartly.

That’s where EV charging management software earns its keep.

Whether you’re just setting up or scaling across cities, having a solid CMS isn’t optional it’s your operational backbone. Platforms like what Stellen Infotech offers are making this easier for businesses that don’t want to get stuck figuring out load curves and session reports at 11 PM.

And honestly? That’s the kind of tech backbone more EV businesses need not another flashy dashboard with no substance.

[rohanshah2025]

TCI Express: The Largest Logistics Company in India Delivering Excellence in Express and International Courier Services

Introduction

The logistics industry is the lifeline of modern commerce, enabling the seamless flow of goods across cities, countries, and continents. In India, where geographical diversity and market demands are incredibly vast, finding a logistics partner that combines reliability, speed, and scale is vital. That’s where TCI Express, the largest logistics company in India, stands out.

With decades of experience, advanced infrastructure, and a customer-first approach, TCI Express has emerged as a leader among every top transport company in the country. From express logistics services to full truck load services, and from international courier services to temperature controlled transportation, TCI Express offers a comprehensive suite of solutions that serve businesses of all sizes and industries.

In this blog, we will explore how TCI Express is revolutionizing Indian logistics with its unparalleled capabilities and why it is considered the best courier service in India for both domestic and international needs.

TCI Express – The Largest Logistics Company in India

A Legacy of Excellence

TCI Express is a part of the Transport Corporation of India (TCI) Group, a pioneer in the Indian logistics sector. Over the years, TCI Express has evolved into a standalone powerhouse, with a razor-sharp focus on express logistics services and next-day delivery across the country.

With more than 950+ branches, 40,000+ pickup and delivery points, and state-of-the-art sorting centers, TCI Express ensures nationwide reach and consistent performance.

Key Features:

ISO 9001:2015 certified operations

Listed on NSE and BSE

Next-day and same-day delivery options

Specialized services for multiple industries

Unmatched network and infrastructure

TCI Express as a Leading Transport Company

TCI Express is not just a courier provider but a full-fledged transport company offering services that span across road, rail, and air networks. With an expansive fleet, digitally connected delivery models, and route optimization, it caters to both B2B and B2C logistics with precision.

Services That Define a Top Transport Company:

Express surface transport

Rail and air cargo integration

Intercity and intracity delivery

Specialized supply chain solutions

Customized solutions for SMEs and large enterprises

With its integrated approach and multimodal transportation systems, TCI Express stands as a dependable partner for businesses seeking scalable logistics solutions.

Express Logistics Services – Speed with Reliability

The demand for quick, safe, and reliable delivery is higher than ever. Express logistics services are critical for industries like e-commerce, pharmaceuticals, electronics, and FMCG. TCI Express delivers high-speed logistics without compromising on safety or accuracy.

Advantages of TCI Express Logistics:

Guaranteed same-day/next-day delivery

Real-time tracking and updates

GPS-enabled fleet for route efficiency

Optimized pickup and drop-off timelines

Door-to-door services across India

TCI Express ensures that urgent shipments are never delayed, giving businesses a competitive edge in time-sensitive markets.

Best Courier Service in India – What Makes TCI Express Stand Out?

There are numerous courier providers in India, but TCI Express has earned the reputation of being the best courier service in India for its unmatched performance, wide coverage, and commitment to customer satisfaction.

Key Differentiators:

Service to over 29,000 pin codes

Specialized handling of fragile and high-value goods

24/7 customer support

Transparent pricing with no hidden fees

Fast and reliable returns management

Whether it’s documents, consumer goods, or medical supplies, TCI Express ensures on-time and safe delivery across urban and remote areas alike.

International Courier Services – Bridging Borders with TCI Express

In today’s global economy, cross-border logistics is essential for businesses expanding internationally. TCI Express offers reliable and fast international courier services that make global shipping effortless.

International Capabilities Include:

Door-to-door global shipping

Priority and express international delivery

Custom clearance and documentation support

Strategic partnerships with global logistics companies

Real-time international tracking

Whether shipping to the USA, Europe, Southeast Asia, or the Middle East, TCI Express provides cost-effective and secure international courier services.

Full Truck Load Services – For Heavy and Bulk Shipments

For businesses dealing in high volumes, full truck load services are an essential component of their logistics chain. TCI Express offers both part truckload (PTL) and full truck load (FTL) services across India.

Benefits of TCI’s Full Truck Load Services:

Dedicated truck capacity

Customized delivery schedules

Secure transport of bulk goods

Optimal pricing based on load and route

Reduced transit time and fewer handling points

These services are ideal for industries like construction, textiles, agriculture, and manufacturing that require large-scale transport.

Temperature Controlled Transportation – For Perishable and Sensitive Goods

Certain goods such as food, pharmaceuticals, and chemicals require precise temperature regulation during transit. TCI Express offers advanced temperature controlled transportation solutions that maintain the required environment from origin to destination.

Why Choose TCI’s Temperature Controlled Logistics:

Refrigerated and insulated trucks

24/7 temperature monitoring systems

Compliant with international cold chain standards

Custom temperature settings (cold, chilled, frozen)

Ideal for perishable goods and vaccines

This makes TCI Express a reliable partner for businesses in sectors like healthcare, food processing, and life sciences.

Industry-Specific Logistics Solutions

TCI Express provides tailored logistics for the following industries:

E-commerce: Fast reverse logistics, COD handling, return management

Healthcare: Cold chain delivery, safe pharma handling

Automotive: Component and parts delivery

Retail & FMCG: Timely restocking and inventory delivery

Electronics: Anti-theft packaging and safe transport

Technology Driving Logistics Innovation

TCI Express is a tech-savvy logistics leader. Its digital-first approach improves efficiency and enhances customer experience.

Tech Innovations:

Automated sorting centers

Online freight booking and rate calculator

Real-time parcel tracking

Digital proof of delivery

AI-based route optimization

By blending human expertise with automation, TCI Express ensures accuracy, visibility, and responsiveness.

Safety, Compliance, and Sustainability

Logistics is not just about speed but also about safety and responsibility.

TCI Express Values:

100% adherence to safety protocols

Environmentally responsible fleet management

Training for drivers and handlers

ISO certifications for quality and compliance

Reduced carbon footprint through rail and EVs

TCI Express’s Nationwide and Global Reach

With service across 40,000+ locations in India and growing international partnerships, TCI Express is well-equipped to support businesses looking to expand their reach both within the country and abroad.

 Conclusion

In today’s highly competitive and time-sensitive market, choosing the right logistics partner can make or break your business operations. TCI Express emerges as the all-in-one solution that combines speed, scale, and innovation.

As the largest logistics company in India, TCI Express offers unmatched service across every logistics vertical—from express logistics services and international courier services to full truck load services and temperature controlled transportation.

Whether you're an entrepreneur, manufacturer, exporter, or a multinational corporation, TCI Express has the infrastructure, technology, and expertise to deliver beyond expectations.

FAQs – Frequently Asked Questions

1. Which is the largest logistics company in India?

TCI Express is recognized as the largest logistics company in India, offering pan-India express delivery and comprehensive logistics solutions.

2. What kind of transport company is TCI Express?

TCI Express is a full-service transport company offering multimodal logistics across road, rail, and air with express delivery as its core strength.

3. What are express logistics services?

Express logistics services involve time-bound, high-speed delivery of goods. TCI Express specializes in same-day/next-day delivery across the country.

4. Is TCI Express the best courier service in India?

Yes, TCI Express is widely regarded as the best courier service in India due to its speed, reliability, customer service, and network coverage.

5. Does TCI Express offer international courier services?

Absolutely. TCI Express provides fast and reliable international courier services with door-to-door delivery and customs support.

6. What are full truck load services?

Full truck load services involve booking an entire truck for transporting large volumes of goods. TCI Express offers secure and customized FTL options.

7. What is temperature controlled transportation?

Temperature controlled transportation ensures goods are shipped under controlled conditions. TCI Express offers refrigerated trucks and monitoring systems for sensitive items.

8. Does TCI Express offer real-time tracking?

Yes, TCI Express provides real-time tracking for all domestic and international shipments through their website and mobile app.

9. Can individuals use TCI Express or is it only for businesses?

Both! TCI Express caters to individuals as well as businesses, offering personalized courier and logistics services for all types of shipments.

Explore Services: Express Services | Surface Express | Domestic Air Express | International Air Express | Rail Express | E-Commerce Express | C2C Express | Cold Chain Express

[wirewitchviolet]

Hey, where's all the endgames?

Any time I'm browsing through my Steam library, I see Stellaris staring out at me, with a big ol' number on hours played next to a prompt asking if I'd recommend it to people. I don't generally do user reviews, but also I never actually know if I'd recommend that one to anyone, because the developers keep doing massive overhauls every so often that it's perpetually a totally different experience from the last time I played it. So now and then I'll fire it up again, put in another large number of hours, struggle for a little coming to grips with some feature that's completely changed, but get a handle on that, start thriving, get to the end game, and then just kinda stall out and quagmire for some reason or another. For the longest time I thought this was happening because the newly redesigned way the game worked meant there was some new concept I had to be mindful of for the whole game or it'd eventually come around and bite me, but on my most recent attempt to get a handle on it, the mid-game complications tipped their hand a little too hard and I realized no, I keep stalling out into an unending mid-game because that's how the game is designed to work.

It helps that this is the first time I've played it since somehow ending up with a big ol' pile of DLC, as the constant redesigns are really pretty blatantly structured such that you really need to have the DLC for it to feel like a properly functioning experience. Otherwise there's just a bunch of weird dummied out stuff basically. But yeah, Stellaris is set up with a variety of both hard and soft systems such that any time you really hit the momentum to start dominating the map and taking everything over, SOME sort of sudden crisis is going to pop up and demand your attention. Do you have a big enough fleet to take out anyone who might oppose you? Well, every other faction in the galaxy is suddenly going to form a federation where if you attack one of them, you're at war with all of them. Reach a point where that's a fight you can handle? Uh... there's suddenly a massive pirate fleet poking at you from behind! Dealt with that? Oh, well, here's a "random" disaster to destroy half your economy. Those fallen empires just sitting on the map with their overkill death fleets the whole game have decided they now have a problem with you. Space Godzilla suddenly appears and starts eating the whole galaxy. SOMETHING is going to happen to perpetually keep you in still a pretty good position but with some big crisis demanding your attention so you can't just go mop the map up.

Attempting to play this game before I realized this was how it worked was super frustrating, because I thought I was just always missing something really important and playing badly, but, OK no, it's just generating new problems on the fly to maintain this eternal mid-game. I'm... not going to call that bad design. I can see it appealing to a certain kind of person, but me? I hate it. And I hate how commonplace it's getting.

Dwarf Fortress is rad, and kind of has a bad endgame. At some point, you're either going to lose your fortress to early bad luck or some critical mismanagement, or get overwhelmed by invading goblins or forgotten beasts or something, but if you play well, you can get to a point where those sort of threats are fully manageable, and from there... either you just get really bored because the normal ways you interact with the game don't have any fresh challenges to offer, or you train up an impressive army and start conquering/destroying/exploring the world in a less than engaging mode most people don't know exists, OR you can go the traditional route, dig too greedily and too deep, crack open hell, and have demons flood your fortress. Like it shows in the intro. I don't really like any of these, but they're something, and Dwarf Fortress is quite famously a super ambitious game that's not anywhere close to finished and may never be.

Dwarf Fortress clones are getting pretty popular, and a feature I keep seeing them advertising is some sort of adversarial event manager that will keep hitting you with random disasters, paced out such that you always get hit with something new if you start getting complacent... and they do this instead of having any sort of end game.

There's a lot of survival type things with infinite procedural worlds. You explore this area and build up tools and defenses and deal with some aggressive enemies, and that leaves you in a position to venture out towards that big landmark on the horizon where even more aggressive enemies will attack you as you try and get even more resources to explore the next landmark, and this just continues forever, this is the game.

Basically every MMO's "endgame" is a series of really hard to survive dungeons/boss fights that give you slightly better gear than what you came in with which should let you just barely manage the next dungeon/boss fight and we're just literally going to keep adding these forever, hopefully at a pace where you aren't just sitting there bored waiting for the next one to go in because you're done with the last one.

And like, again, I dunno, maybe this is just me, but THIS IS THE MYTH OF SISYPHUS! Hades was super mad at a guy and decided to subject him to the absolute worst punishment he could think of- being tasked with pushing a boulder to the top of a hill, but rigging it so that every time he got close to the top, the boulder would slide off and roll all the way back down. So he's just stuck in this eternal loop of the mid-game of boulder pushing. And people who give talks and write papers on game design will say this is great because the strenuous task of pushing the boulder up the hill is the core gameplay loop and that's where all the focus should be.

This feels like a fundamental failure of game design from where I sit, but it's possible I'm just showing my age. I'm just barely old enough to remember when infinitely looping through the same stuff until you screw up and die was just what videogames were. Every arcade game was this single screen challenge where you kill everything or you platform to some goal or you do a race, and then maybe there'd be a few other similar levels, but ultimately you loop back to the first screen you started on but the difficulty's been incremented up in some way, usually just kinda ratcheting the speed up, and yeah, you just play until you lose, maybe get on the high score chart. Then the NES came along and people realized this design philosophy didn't really work when people buy a game up front and that's that, versus feeding quarters in every time they sit down with it, and the fundamental nature of game design changed, and now we've got a more narratively structured sort of deal where you're continually moving through a variety of novel situations requiring greater and greater mastery of the mechanics a particular game is bringing to the table until we build to a proper climax that really puts all your skills to the test and then gives you a nice little ending afterwards.

And like, technically this is subjective, but I am certain that more or less everyone at the time agreed that a game structured like Contra or Super Mario Bros. was just hands down better than a game structured like Pacman or Space Invaders.

Now, it DOES make sense to me why the bloated dying dinosaurs that are big name game publishers are super keen on undoing about 40 years of progress and returning to that Sisyphian drudgery. Ultimately, they want to munch quarters again. And while I would rather passionately debate how true this actually is, the corporate consensus on how to make the most money from games is to... trick people into compulsively playing a game for as long as they possible, while not especially enjoying it, through a combination of having no end game and pressures like "daily login bonuses" while tempting them with little additions that theoretically will make it a more enjoyable experience but ultimately have very little impact (cosmetic DLC stuff, little minor content packs, etc.) and just kinda maintain this false hope that if they stick it out and keep throwing in money it will eventually become a more satisfying experience.

But besides, you know, the fact that the people making their money out of that sort of gross exploitative model keep giving their GDC talks about compelling game loops and player retention and microtransactions and all, I can't for the life of me work out why indie developers who presumably just want to make a really cool game and maybe a better one later are ALSO increasingly designing games with thes endless mid-games and no real longterm goals to work towards. So... please stop doing that? Focus on making games that are only as long as they need to be, where you acquire some skills and ways of approaching problems, then get tested on those, and have a nice satisfying ending, then get to move on to play something else cool, and fondly remember this experience such that they'll hopefully want to see what you do next.

I personally would also very much like to spend all my time making things like that, and it'd be so much easier to focus on that if I didn't have to waste all my time begging for rent money and struggling to stay alive with all the medical problems I can't afford to see doctors about. So... maybe help a gal out there?

[siennaxcastillo]

━ INTRODUCING SIENNA CASTILLO.

name: Sienna Castillo

nickname: Seine

birthday: July 16th 1989

age: 35

gender: cis female

pronouns: She/Her

face claim: Jacqueline Fernandez 

occupation: Tech Specialist for the Kang Family

neighborhood: Little Italy

hometown: Manhattan, NY

tldr; Sienna Castillo, 36, is a former model turned tech specialist who once balanced runways and coding classes in New York. With a degree in IT from NYU, she proved her skills in cybersecurity despite being underestimated in the industry. After her mother’s passing, she moved to Devil’s Junction to be near her father and took over his role managing online gambling systems for the Kang family. Smart, independent, and intensely private, Sienna prefers working from her secure apartment, only stepping out when necessary. When she’s not securing the Kangs’ operations, she unwinds with gaming, true crime documentaries, and late-night drives, all while wondering if she’ll ever be able to walk away from this world.

b i o g r a p h y;

Sienna Castillo was born and raised in Manhattan, New York, the only child of Camila and Diego Castillo. Her mother, Camila, was a renowned fashion designer, while her father, Diego, was a tech specialist who worked in the shadows of high-stakes online gambling networks. Growing up in a household where creativity and logic coexisted, Sienna developed a dual fascination with fashion and technology.

With striking features and a natural confidence, Sienna was scouted for modelling in her late teens by contacts of her mother's. By 20, she was walking runways for emerging designers, booking editorial spreads, and landing beauty campaigns. While the fashion world was thrilling, she knew it wasn’t a lifelong career. Behind the glitz, she was intensely focused on her education, earning a degree in Information Technology from New York University (NYU). Balancing high-pressure fashion gigs with demanding coursework, she often felt like she was living in two completely separate worlds.

During her time in New York, Sienna developed a diverse network of relationships, though she was always careful about how much of herself she revealed. In the fashion industry, she had a close-knit group of friends—fellow models who understood the grind of the industry, late-night castings, and the pressure to remain relevant. Still, there were times when she felt like an outsider, as her academic ambitions set her apart from the stereotypical model lifestyle.

In the tech world, things were different. She had a sharp mind and a relentless work ethic, but her background in modelling often made it difficult for people to take her seriously. She worked twice as hard to prove herself, building connections in cybersecurity and digital infrastructure. Though she developed a handful of mentorship-style relationships with professionals in the industry, most of her tech colleagues saw her past as an oddity rather than a true asset.

Her romantic relationships were often fleeting, as she prioritized her career and independence above all else. She dated both inside and outside the fashion industry—photographers, investors, and even a venture capitalist who offered to fund one of her early tech projects. But none of these relationships lasted; Sienna was always too focused, too driven, and too wary of being tied down.

At 30, her world shattered when her mother passed away unexpectedly. The loss shook her father deeply, leaving him isolated and grieving. Seeing how much he needed her, Sienna made the difficult decision to leave New York behind and move to Devil’s Junction.

In Devil’s Junction, she stepped into the world her father once ruled, taking over his role as a tech specialist for the Kang family. Though she had never envisioned working in underground online gambling systems, her skills made her indispensable. With her sharp mind and a lifetime of watching her father navigate high-risk tech work, she quickly became a key player in the Kangs’ operations.

Now, at 36, Sienna has adapted to Devil’s Junction but remains an outsider in many ways. She thrives under pressure, but deep down, she misses the creative energy of New York, the friendships she left behind, and the freedom of a life unburdened by crime. Though she has built a life for herself in Devil’s Junction, she often wonders: What would it take to walk away? And does she even want to?

h e a d c a n o n s ;

Sienna’s deep understanding of coding is complemented by her creative side, which she honed through modelling. She often designs new website features with an artistic touch, making them not only functional but visually appealing.

While her professional life revolves around tech, Sienna has a secret passion for singing. She used to record music during her downtime, though she has never shared her vocal talent with anyone.

Growing up in a household that valued both appearance and intellect, Sienna developed a strong sense of discipline. Whether it’s a tight deadline in tech or her fitness routine, she always follows through with meticulous planning.

While Sienna keeps to herself and doesn’t let many people in, she is fiercely loyal to those who earn her trust. Her connection to Gavin is a prime example of this loyalty—she would go to great lengths to help him if needed.

Thanks to her diverse upbringing in Manhattan, Sienna speaks English, French, Spanish, and a little bit of Italian. She also knows basic Turkish and Hindi, a nod to her interest in international cultures.

Sienna is very protective of her personal history and rarely discusses her modelling career or her mother’s death. She prefers to keep her past separate from her current life in Devil's Junction.

On the outside, Sienna can come across as aloof or mysterious, often keeping to herself during social events. However, those who truly get to know her understand that she is compassionate and generous with her time when it matters most.

Despite her successes, Sienna harbours a deep fear of being rejected for who she is—both in the tech world and personally. This fear often manifests as self-doubt, especially when it comes to romantic relationships or opening up emotionally.

c o n n e c t i o n s ;

The One Who Reminds Her of New York – A fellow New Yorker (or someone who gets city life) who brings back memories of home and allows her to drop her guarded persona.

The Reluctant Confidant – A person who somehow sees past her walls and becomes the only one she finds herself accidentally opening up to.

The Protective Older Brother/Figure – A gruff but well-meaning presence who looks out for her, even if she insists she doesn’t need it.

The Unexpected Ally – A wildcard connection—someone she never expected to trust but somehow does, possibly from a rival group or a civilian with no ties to crime.

The Neighbour Helper - someone who lives around her and is someone she goes to to get help with her apartment and such.

any others?

[rideboomindia]

How RideBoom auto rickshaw plan is differ from rapido and ola

Here are some key ways the RideBoom auto rickshaw plan may differ from the offerings of larger players like Rapido and Ola:

Target Market:

RideBoom may be focusing more on serving the needs of traditional auto rickshaw drivers and commuters, a segment that may not be the primary focus for the larger ride-hailing platforms.

By catering to this market, RideBoom's plan could offer features and benefits tailored to the specific requirements and challenges faced by auto rickshaw drivers and passengers in its local market.

Operational Model:

RideBoom's auto rickshaw plan may have a more decentralized, community-driven approach, potentially involving partnerships with local auto rickshaw associations or cooperatives.

This could allow RideBoom to better integrate with the existing auto rickshaw ecosystem, leveraging local knowledge and relationships.

Technology and Innovation:

As a smaller, more agile player, RideBoom may be able to innovate and implement new technologies more quickly to address the unique needs of the auto rickshaw market.

This could include features like specialized mobile apps, digital payment solutions, or fleet management systems tailored for auto rickshaws.

Regulatory Approach:

RideBoom's auto rickshaw plan may navigate local regulations and licensing requirements more adeptly, given its deeper understanding of the market and closer ties with the auto rickshaw community.

This could allow RideBoom to offer a more streamlined and compliant service compared to the larger platforms, which may face greater bureaucratic challenges in certain markets.

Customer Service and Support:

RideBoom's smaller scale and localized focus may enable it to provide more personalized customer service and support to both auto rickshaw drivers and passengers.

This could include dedicated hotlines, in-person assistance, or community-based problem-solving mechanisms that cater to the specific needs of the auto rickshaw ecosystem.

Sustainability and Social Impact:

RideBoom's auto rickshaw plan may have a stronger emphasis on supporting the livelihoods of traditional auto rickshaw drivers, potentially offering better earnings, training, or social welfare programs.

This could position RideBoom as a more socially responsible player, committed to empowering and integrating the auto rickshaw community into the evolving transportation landscape.

While Rapido and Ola may have greater resources and scale, RideBoom's auto rickshaw plan could leverage its local market knowledge, community-based approach, and innovative solutions to differentiate itself and better serve the unique needs of the auto rickshaw segment. Effective execution and a deep understanding of the local context will be critical for RideBoom to carve out a sustainable niche in this competitive market.

[orbitalinstallationtechnologies]

Professional Dashcam Installation Services to Enhance Fleet Safety

Fleet safety is more important than ever. With the rise in road incidents and the growing need to protect both drivers and assets, Dashcam Installations have become a vital tool for fleet operators. Whether you manage a small fleet or a large operation, having dashcams installed in your vehicles can greatly improve safety and reduce risks. Our professional Camera Installation in the Car provide you with reliable monitoring, real-time insights, and dependable incident recording to keep your fleet secure.

Why Dashcam Installations Are Crucial for Fleets

Dashcams do more than just record video. They offer an extra layer of security for fleet managers and drivers by capturing high-definition footage of the road and driver behavior. This data can be invaluable in preventing accidents, addressing risky driving habits, and protecting businesses from liability claims. Here are some key reasons why dashcams are essential for fleets:

1. Accurate Collision Recording

Accidents can happen at any time. Dashcams provide clear, real-time footage of incidents, which helps determine the cause of accidents and protects your business from false claims. This footage can be crucial in legal cases, ensuring that your drivers are exonerated when they are not at fault.

2. Driver Behavior Monitoring

Dashcams help fleet managers monitor driver behavior. Alerts for unsafe practices such as speeding, harsh braking, tailgating, or not wearing a seatbelt can be sent in real time. This monitoring helps reduce risky behavior and promotes safer driving habits.

3. Risk Mitigation

Dashcams reduce the risk of accidents and fraudulent insurance claims by providing clear video evidence. Having dashcams installed can also lead to lower insurance premiums for your fleet, saving your business money over time.

4. Compliance and GPS Integration

Many dashcam systems come with GPS tracking, allowing fleet managers to pinpoint the exact location of any critical event. This feature is essential for ensuring compliance with fleet safety standards and for optimizing routes and delivery times.

The Value of Fleet Dash Cams

Investing in Fleet Management Technology, particularly dash cameras with GPS tracking, is a critical decision for any business operating a fleet of vehicles. The decision often comes down to balancing the initial investment against the potential returns in terms of safety, efficiency, and operational improvement. Dash cameras, like JimiIoT's dashcam Dual-Channel Dashcam, provide a comprehensive solution that aligns with modern fleet management needs.

Dash cameras have become an essential tool in Fleet Tracking System Installation, providing real-time insights into road conditions, driver behavior, and incidents that can significantly impact your business. The dashcam stands out with its dual-channel video capability, offering a complete view of both the road ahead and the vehicle's interior. This technology not only ensures safety but also contributes to enhancing operational efficiency.

Key Benefits of Investing in the Dashcam

Accident Reduction and Evidence Collection

The dashcam captures high-quality footage in real time, which can be crucial during accidents. This footage can quickly resolve disputes, expedite insurance claims, and protect your company from fraudulent claims. Concrete evidence from dash cams can lead to lower insurance premiums and overall cost reductions.

Driver Behavior Monitoring

One significant advantage of the dashcam is its ability to monitor driver behavior. By capturing instances of speeding, harsh braking, and other risky actions, fleet managers can identify patterns and take corrective measures. Over time, this results in a safer driving culture within your fleet.

Maintenance Cost Reduction

Real-time monitoring through the dashcam can alert fleet managers to potential vehicle issues before they become critical. Addressing problems early reduces the chances of costly breakdowns and extends your vehicle's lifespan. Data-driven preventive maintenance keeps your fleet in top condition.

Enhanced Productivity

With advanced tracking and monitoring capabilities, the dashcam enables better route planning and reduces unnecessary downtime. Improved scheduling leads to higher productivity, timely deliveries, and increased customer satisfaction.

Driver Training and Development

Video footage from the dashcam can be a valuable training tool. Reviewing incidents allows managers to provide targeted feedback, helping drivers improve their skills. This ongoing training fosters a more competent driving team, further reducing risks and operational costs.

Litigation Protection

In legal disputes, having clear, objective footage from the dashcam is invaluable. It can protect your business from false claims and prevent costly settlements, safeguarding your reputation and financial stability.

Insurance Discounts

Many insurance providers recognize dashcams role in reducing risks and offer discounts to fleets that use them. The dashcam's advanced features can help your business qualify for these discounts, further offsetting the initial investment.

Regulatory Compliance

Staying compliant with industry regulations is essential for avoiding fines. The dashcam ensures your fleet operates within legal parameters by providing verifiable data on driver behavior, vehicle location, and operational conditions.

Data-Driven Decision Making

The dashcam is more than a camera; it's a powerful tool for collecting and analyzing data. Insights gained from this data help fleet managers make informed decisions to improve operational efficiency, reduce costs, and increase profitability.

Secure Your Fleet with Our Dashcam Installation Services

When it comes to fleet safety, every detail matters. Proper dashcam installation can make a significant difference in protecting your drivers, reducing risks, and ensuring compliance with safety standards. Our team is dedicated to providing high-quality dashcam installation services that meet the unique needs of your fleet.

By choosing our professional services, you can expect:

Expert installation: Ensuring optimal performance and reliability.

Customized solutions: Tailored to your fleet size and needs.

Ongoing support: We’re here to help you maintain your dashcam systems.

Don’t leave your fleet’s safety to chance. Contact us today to schedule your dashcam installation and take the first step toward a safer, more efficient fleet. Protect your drivers, safeguard your business, and gain peace of mind with our expert dashcam installation services.

The Role of Orbital Installs

Orbital Installation Technologies plays a crucial role in providing professional dashcam installation services that ensure your fleet’s safety systems are functioning at their best. Our experienced team specializes in installing a wide range of dashcam systems, from single-camera setups to advanced multi-channel solutions with GPS tracking and cloud connectivity. We understand the importance of precision and reliability in dashcam installations, which is why we tailor our services to fit your fleet's unique needs.

With years of expertise, Orbital Installs ensures that every dashcam is properly positioned and configured to capture critical footage. Our commitment to quality installation means fewer technical issues, better performance, and greater peace of mind for fleet operators. Trust Orbital Installs to handle your dashcam installation professionally and efficiently, so you can focus on running a safer and more productive fleet.

FAQs

1. What types of vehicles can you install dashcams in? We can install dashcams in all types of vehicles, including cars, vans, trucks, and buses. Our team has experience with a variety of vehicle sizes and configurations to ensure a seamless installation process.

2. How long does a typical dashcam installation take? The installation time varies depending on the type of system and the vehicle. On average, a basic dashcam installation takes about 1-2 hours. More complex multi-camera systems may require additional time.

3. Can I access the dashcam footage remotely? Yes, many modern dashcam systems offer cloud-connected features that allow you to access footage remotely. This enables you to review incidents in real-time from any location with an internet connection.

4. Do you provide maintenance and support after the installation? Absolutely! We provide ongoing support to ensure your dashcam systems continue to operate efficiently. If you encounter any issues, our team is available to help with troubleshooting and maintenance.

[cristpoherolli1993]

Exploring the Role of 3PL and 4PL Logistics in the Modern Supply Chain

Image by freepik

With the increasing turbulence touching the global scenario, countries and businesses have actually gone one better at ways of making their operations leaner, cheap and efficient. Among some of the simple ways of making even the long-standing functions much more effective is the involvement of an external party in the business activity that would have required a major slice of the overhead. In most cases, it gets into the area of using 3PL and 4PL Logistics for streamlining, if not totally eliminating, logistics functions while advancing their significance.

This logistics-dependent service is significant in enabling supply chain processes of present-day organizations so that they can concentrate on business strategy while the experts take care of the entire facilitation process: transport, warehousing, inventory, and much more.

But what exactly are 3PL and 4PL logistics? Well, and exactly how do they differ?

Let us now consider the particular roles of both in the context of today's supply chain and discuss how such services can be availed of by businesses.

What is 3PL Logistics?

Third-party logistics (3PL) refers outsourcing of logistics functions by a company to a different specialized service provider, usually a 3PL provider, which takes care of the supply chain, including some of the following key processes: transportation, warehousing, inventory management, packaging, and distribution. In other words, the 3 PL logistics companies do the actual operational work of transporting goods from point A to point B, leaving businesses with more time for their core activities.

What services Offered by 3PL Providers:

Transportation Management: The logistics 3PL companies ship or deliver products from one place to another through varied modes of transportation, namely road, rail, and sea. In addition, customers have the option to choose the cost-effective carriers and handle their shipping processes.

Warehousing and Storage: Most 3PL businesses carry out warehousing services, which include placing goods in warehouses that optimize their distribution with good strategic positioning. Another common feature of such warehouses is that they are usually fitted with inventory management systems which help the companies track their goods in real-time.

Inventory and Order Management: 3PL providers can manage inventories and the orders within them, ensuring that products are stored correctly for when they are needed, and that orders will be accurate when they are filled.

Packaging and Labelling: Packaging custom solutions for any 3PL logistics service would also include full-scale packaging, as well as cost-effective labels and barcodes to warrant proper regulation compliance.

Returns Management: Many of the reverse logistics processes - including inspection, refurbishment, and restocking of returned goods - are performed by 3PL companies.

Benefits of 3PL Logistics:

Cost savings: If companies outsource logistics functions to 3PL, they don't have to invest in warehouses, fleets of transports, or technologies. They can put the money into other areas of the business.

Scalability and Flexibility: 3PL provider easily adapted to orders volume, providing businesses with flexibility in their  during peak seasons, 3PL providers could scale according to their demand.supply chain. In the event more warehouse spaces or more trucks are required

Knowledge and Expertise: 3PL providers have in-depth knowledge and experience in logistics management. Their capabilities will be beneficial to all companies by taking advantage of best practices in supply chain management and by avoiding costly mistakes.

Reach: Many 3PLs establish global networks that allow businesses to ship internationally without worrying about complex logistics.

What is 4PL Logistics?

Fourth-party logistics (4PL) is regarded as an advance upon the 3PL continuum in logistics management. A typical role for the 4PL provider is to consolidate into one place, coming through the entire supply chain process. It handles all flows of goods, information, and services from first to last-end in a more strategic and holistic approach than a 3PL provider.

4PL Supplier Core End Services:

Integration within the Supply Chain: 4PL providers integrate and coordinate all logistics functions through the use of many 3PL providers and other entities in the supply chain by establishing standardized ways of smooth communication and overall collaboration throughout the whole process.

The Strategic Planning of the Supply Chain: 4PL providers take a pretty macro perspective of supply chains and strategize on maximizing overall efficiency, reducing costs, and increasing performance. They look more at the long-term aspect of the supply chain than at day-to-day logistics operational activities.

From start to finish, 4PL logistics providers will run the entire supply chain process, including procurement and transport, as well as storage, inventory control, and distribution of products. It thus ensures that every step in that supply chain works efficiently and according to the company's objectives.

Technology Integration: 4PL providers not only carry forward advanced technology solutions, for instance, supply chain management software, but analytics tools that provide real-time visibility and data-driven insights into the supply chain. It helps businesses make informed decisions on a more reliable basis and lets them stay ahead of the next giving disruptions.

4PL is providing vendor management services under vendor management: This is the best advantage that gives 4PL clients the benefit of taking responsibility for managing relationships with multiple vendors and service providers while ensuring total compliance with contract fulfillment and performance standards.

Benefits of 4PL Logistics:

Seeing that the supplier operates the other connected logistics businesses, 4PLs follow a holistic approach toward supply chain management: assuring that all logistics functions would be done to have no inefficiencies.

Visibility and control:4PL heads up the entire supply chain from raw material to finished product delivery into the warehousing facilities of retailers. This one makes businesses being stonewalled against having an inside view of their logistics operations. Thus, better monitoring and decision-making as well as the means for controlling the full cycle could be made accomplished.

Focus on Core Business: Outsourcing the strategic management of the supply chain to a 4PL provider allows businesses to focus on what they do best: manufacturing, sales, or customer service.

Innovation and Continuous Improvement: Difficult 4PL solutions with continuous process improvements in supply chain management would assure competitive advantages for businesses and the ability to adapt to changing conditions in the market.

Differences Between 3PL and 4PL Logistics

Both 3PL and 4PL outsourcing offer logistics functions. However, the significant difference is in the scope and the extent of involvement.

Focus: 3PL focuses narrowly on executing a logistics function related to transportation, warehousing, and inventory management, while 4PL dramatically extends the role into a far more strategic oversight of the entire supply chain management end-to-end.

Integration: 3PLs usually operate independently, whereas a 4PL integrates and manages a group of 3PLs, and possibly other vendors, overseeing all logistics activities for an organization.

Technology and Data: 4PL providers usually have sophisticated technologies and data analytics to oversee and optimize the supply chain, whereas 3PL providers do not necessarily have the same degree of technological integration.

Customization: Usually a more tailor-made solution based on the client's unique needs; typically includes standardized services that businesses can choose from.

Which Option is Right for Your Business?

The choice of a logistics solution, either 3PL and 4PL, depends upon the size of your organization, the complexity of the supply chain, and the logistics requirements. For example, if you want certain hands-on aspects of warehousing and transportation in the supply chain, a 3PL provider would make the best fit for your company. A 4PL provider serves a different purpose - to build an integrated solution for businesses requiring one to manage and optimize the whole supply chain.

Here are some considerations that you may take in the decision: 

Complexity of the Supply Chain: If the supply chain has involvement from multiple vendors or partners, then integrated and strategic-reach of 4PL will most likely serve you best. 

Level of Control: If you want higher levels of control over individual logistics functions, you may find 3PL logistics better suited as it offers more room for managing certain areas within the supply chain. 

Growth and Scalability: The greater complexity associated with an expanded business may likely make 4PL a better solution than 3PL logistics in an ever more intricate web of managing logistics. But while still relatively small, a 3PL provider will be that flexible and cost-efficient solution that you need to scale up.

The Future of 3PL and 4PL Logistics

As the global supply chain continues to evolve, both 3PL and 4PL logistics providers are adapting to new technologies, market demands, and environmental considerations. Innovations in automation, artificial intelligence (AI), and data analytics are transforming how logistics services are provided. The future of logistics will likely see even greater collaboration between 3PL and 4PL providers, enabling businesses to take advantage of cutting-edge solutions and improve their overall supply chain performance.

Ultimately, whether you choose 3PL or 4PL logistics, the right provider can help you streamline your operations, reduce costs, and improve efficiency, positioning your business for success in the modern supply chain.

[usafphantom2]

IMAGES: Fly the new USAF stealth bomber, the B-21 Raider

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 11/10/2023 - 15:14in Military

Photo: Matt Hartman

USAF's new B-21 “Raider” flying wing bomber made its first flight on Friday, the next step in the launch of a new fleet of nuclear-capable long-range stealth bombers built by Northrop Grumman.

The B-21 left the Northrop facility at U.S. Air Force Plant 42 in Palmdale, California, at sunrise on Friday at 6:51 a.m., offering the first improvised view of the new bomber that was developed under strict security.

The aircraft went to Edwards Air Base, California, where it will continue with the flight test phase with USAF. The flight lasted about 90 minutes.

With the Cerberus callsign, the aircraft took off eastward with an F-16 companion plane after climbing about 500 feet. The landing gear was not collected, according to videos and photos that appeared on social networks.

TAP TITLE BAR TO VIEW VIDEO☝️

U.S. Air Force leaders did not disclose the first flight of the B-21, but about three dozen aviation enthusiasts and amateur photographers gathered around Plant 42 on Friday in the hope of seeing the bomber rise to the skies.

Photo: Mike Henry

The B-21, which carries the same "flying wing" format as its predecessor, the B-2, will be able to launch conventional and nuclear weapons around the world, using long-range and in-flight refueling capabilities.

The aircraft are projected to cost approximately $550 million each in 2010 dollars, or about $750 million in current inflation-adjusted dollars. However, the USAF kept other price information confidential, “which makes it difficult to validate the proposed cost,” the Congressional Research Service said in a 2021 report.

Photo: Mike Henry

The U.S. Air Force plans to buy at least 100 planes and start replacing the B-1 and B-2 bombers. The B-1 costs about US$ 60,000 per hour to operate and the B-2 costs about US$ 65,000 per hour, according to Pentagon data.

Ann Stefanek, USAF spokesperson, said: “The B-21 Raider is in flight tests. Flight tests are a critical step in the testing campaign managed by the Air Force Test Center and the 412ª Combined Test Wings B-21 Test Force."

Photo: Mike Henry

Six test aircraft are being produced now. They are being built on the same line, using the tools, processes and technicians that will build the production aircraft.

Northrop defeated a team composed of Boeing and Lockheed Martin when it won the 2015 contract to manufacture the bomber. Engine manufacturer Pratt & Whitney, Collins Aerospace, GKN Aerospace, BAE Systems and Spirit Aerosystems are among more than 400 suppliers in 40 states.

The B-21 was publicly presented in December 2022, but the expectation around its first flight had been growing for years.

In 2019, an important Air Force general suggested that the bomber could fly as early as December 2021, but the Force subsequently postponed this date to mid-2022. In early 2022, the USAF postponed even more until 2023.

The B-21 program is in the engineering and manufacturing development phase and the first aircraft will be delivered to Ellsworth Air Force Base in North Dakota.

Northrop is calling the plane a sixth-generation aircraft due to its ability to connect to other aircraft and easily integrate future weapons into its systems architecture.

The B-21 also features surface material with low observation, more durable and stealthy, which should require less maintenance and reduce operating costs and downtime.

Tags: Military AviationNorthrop Grumman B-21 RaiderUSAF - United States Air Force / U.S. Air Force

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has work published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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