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enigmaticexplorer · 1 year ago

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I Yearn, and so I Fear - Part I - Chapter I

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General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers.

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.8K

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“The risk of love is loss and the price of loss is grief. But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love.” - Hilary Stanton Zunin

16 Telona

Kazi would never again visit the lighthouse with her sister.

The place where they peeled citrus-stars, watched oceanic storms, danced in puddles, played and laughed, and smacked the other when they argued. It was their sanctuary. And, of course, the ragged lighthouse overlooking Outlook Harbor preserved their culture—the eldest of Ceaian legend.

The legend of the dragons.

As legend claimed, a dragon guarded each Ceaian harbor, its fire a source of light for ships navigating the rugged surf and rocky cliffs. Without the dragons’ guidance, sailors would crash and drown, and the Ceaian population waste away.

When the last of the dragons died, lighthouses replaced their source of light and guidance. But a lighthouse could never replace the security and warmth of a dragon.

A lighthouse could never replace the visceral reaction of seeing a dragon. Of knowing you were home.

Dominated by childlike wonder, Kazi decided, when she was six, that she would buy the old lighthouse and fix it up. Beside it, she would build an inn. And one day her inn—adorned with her sister’s flowers and succulents—would be the most lauded across all of Ceaia.

For years the dream sustained her and her sister. She would run the inn and manage the finances, meanwhile her sister would oversee decorations and meal planning. Nothing else mattered. Except for a rowdy sailor here or there. But Kazi would handle them too. Because she would protect her sister. She would always protect her little sister.

And so those girls dreamt of their future and planned for endless happiness.

But life never cared much for dreams.

Nowadays, Kazi tried to forget the lighthouse’s existence. It made it easier to ignore the ache in her heart and guilt in her mind.

Slashing rain warmed her fingers as Kazi snapped the final window shut, securing the house from the onslaught of the torrential rainstorm. The sunroom’s windows—spanning the entirety of the wall—overlooked the rolling hills of Eluca’s endless jungle, the planet’s three moons hidden behind clouds pregnant with more rain.

Housing a small couch, four armchairs, a game table, and a handful of potted plants Daria fawned over, the sunroom was Kazi’s favorite place in the house. It boasted the best view of sunrises, and the best views of Eluca’s near-daily rainstorms.

Tonight, the storm was the worst Kazi had seen since arriving on Eluca two months ago. It wasn’t an oceanic storm, but it was close enough.

Thunder boomed, loud enough to rattle the windows. Rain harshened its upheaval; lightning spider-webbed chaotic rictuses across the blackened sky.

Kazi started to smile—the awe and terror of raging storms a memory buried—but the muscle movement strained. Her half-smile fell away. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she last smiled. At least two months. Probably the day before the Purge—

“I met a man at the marketplace today.”

Kazi stiffened. From the corner of her eye, her sister approached the windows, hands clasped loosely before her stomach. A healthy distance—a meter—separated their bodies. Daria seemed to maintain the distance instinctively. Kazi both noted and despised it.

There was a time when Daria would sneak into her bed late at night. Usually scared from the storms, her sister sought refuge beneath her bed covers. She hadn’t minded. What else was a big sister for?

Now, the distance was a physical phenomenon. Tangible; representative of the emotional distance built over the last decade. Kazi held the blame and responsibility. But she still craved the missing connection. The muffled laughter in the middle of the night; sneaky grins; warm hugs.

Daria observed the lashing rain with a blasé countenance that belied her usual calculation. “He’s kind but also ambitious, and his financial situation is sound. I want you to meet him—”

“No.” Kazi crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve told you, repeatedly, that I won’t entertain arranged dates—”

“This one is good,” Daria interrupted, facing her. “Give him a chance—”

“I said no.” Kazi kept her voice quiet and controlled, refusing to yell and risk waking Neyti. “I’m too busy with work and taking care of you—”

Daria recoiled. A flash of lightning emphasized the blush staining her cheeks. Kazi bit her tongue. Her sister was sensitive to any mention of her illness.

“I only ask that you consider meeting him.” Daria straightened, her gentle poise sharpening, like a vibroblade sparking to life. “I’d like to see you married before I die.”

Kazi bit back her annoyed groan, opting for a glare. Currently, she had three goals, and marriage was not one of them.

The first goal was treatment for her sister’s illness. It should have been simple to accomplish, and while she had found a healer specialized in palliative care, Daria’s symptoms were still ubiquitous and worrisome. Even now sweat beaded her sister’s forehead, and her fingers spasmed unintentionally.

The problem laid with ineffective medicine, according to Healer Natasha’s most recent report.

“As I’ve told you,” Kazi said slowly, “I’m not interested in wasting my time on arranged dates—”

“How are you not lonely?”

Kazi scoffed. “Loneliness is not a reason to get married.”

“Maybe not,” Daria said, “but you have no one to rely on. No parents. No friends. No husband.”

A hollow sensation gaped in her chest but Kazi ignored it.

Daria took her silence as permission to continue. “Marriage is a necessity in life. Humans desire companionship—women desire the stability a man can bring to our lives. We’re not meant to be alone.”

Kazi took a few seconds to organize her thoughts and counterarguments. After years with a mother who shared Daria’s sentiment, she was prepared for this specific debate.

“Marriage isn’t something you can force between two people who don’t know one another,” Kazi started, forcibly calm. “Marriage should be based on love. Not desperation or settling out of loneliness. Marriage is about two people who realize they want to share life together. Who feel life is complete when the other is in it.”

Daria snorted. “That’s quite the idealistic notion of romance I wouldn’t expect from you.”

“It’s not idealistic—”

“But it is.” Daria quirked a manicured eyebrow. “Marriage is a pact to maintain the traditions and ideals of two families, and to implement those beliefs in a future generation. It’s more than just love.”

At the condescension in her sister’s tone, Kazi gritted her teeth. She wasn’t an idealist; she preferred realism as her chosen form of analysis. But love wasn’t an idealistic notion for hopeless romantics. She had read the stories and myths. Love was attainable. Maybe not for her, but it still existed. And she refused to settle for a marriage borne out of duty rather than respect and trust and emotional connection.

The argument represented the sisters’ different lines of thinking, and Kazi couldn’t help but wonder: if their father hadn’t died when they were so young and their mother imposed Reformist teachings on an impressionable Daria, would Daria have shared Kazi’s beliefs?

Then again, Daria was the perfect mold she was trained to be: a dutiful wife. And nothing more.

“Think about Neyti,” Daria said. “She’s a child who needs stability in her life—who needs the stability a man can provide.”

Kazi sniffed. “I don’t need a man to provide stability to Neyti’s life. I can provide it.”

“I know you feel responsible for upholding your promise to her mother,” Daria placated, “but you need to think about this situation logically. Neyti needs a family. She needs two parents. She needs emotional support and love.”

“I can be her family.” Kazi frowned at her sister. “I can raise her. I can love her. I can take care of her.”

“Oh, Kazi.” Daria gave her a sympathetic look that itched. “Do you truly believe that?”

“Yes.”

“You have no emotional capacity for a child. You can’t take care of her the way she deserves to be taken care of. Not when you’re alone.”

Kazi resisted the urge to flinch, and instead, shifted her attention to the game table where a bedraggled stuffed dog laid. The toy belonged to a six-year-old girl—a girl shoved into her arms when she was fleeing Ceaia. A child who no longer spoke and remained an enigma she couldn’t figure out. Neyti.

The second goal was to find Neyti suitable, loving parents. Parents who could raise the sweet child in an insecure world fraught with instability and fascism. However, the goal was proving difficult.

Entering a child into a credible adoption center required extensive documentation. Medical records, education certificates, familial-history records. Kazi didn’t even know Neyti’s last name, much less have access to any of the required documents.

Their first week on Eluca, she enrolled Neyti in the local primary school, and she secured baseline medical tests. The medical tests proved useful for Neyti’s therapy. Still, the adoption process was slow and arduous.

Daria wasn’t aware of Neyti’s impending adoption. She believed Kazi was committed to raising Neyti herself. It was a secret Kazi wanted to maintain. Still, Daria’s concern for her lacking competence to care for Neyti hurt.

“I have emotions, Daria.” Her voice was too strained and Kazi grimaced, clearing away the twinge of hurt. “I’m passionate, I feel things, I experience a wide range of emotions. Just because I don’t allow them to dictate my decisions doesn’t mean I’m unfeeling and emotionless.”

“I never said you were.” Daria waved a dismissive hand. “All I’m saying is that your emotional capacity is not sustainable nor durable for a child. You work all day; you work late into the night. You aren’t physically around much for her, and you’re too aloof to provide her the emotional stability she needs. Have you ever considered why she still doesn’t speak?”

“She’s grieving—she lost her mother two months ago,” Kazi said disbelievingly. “She needs space to grieve, and I’m not going to force her to do something she finds solace in.”

“But have you considered the possibility that she doesn’t feel comfortable or safe with you to speak?” Kazi winced at the accusation but her sister wasn’t finished. “Neyti needs emotional support, which you can’t give if you’re not physically present.”

“This conversation is over.” Kazi uncrossed her arms, fisting her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. “I’m not entertaining a marriage for the sake of a false notion of stability.”

“It’s not a false notion,” Daria argued. “You may refuse to acknowledge it in yourself, Kazi, but I see it. I see your struggles, and I know that you need someone—”

“That’s enough.” She turned away from the windows. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about my own wants. So don’t you dare try to pretend that you’re interested in securing me a marriage outside of your own personal goal of making me live up to Mama’s teachings.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do—”

“It is. Just because you failed to get married and have children, doesn’t mean I want that for myself.”

Daria flinched. Disbelief wrinkled her forehead, and for a long moment, she merely stared at Kazi, as if uncertain who stood before her.

“Every woman wants to be married and have children,” Daria finally said, securing her hurt behind a well-practiced mask. “It’s in our nature.”

“You’re delusional.” Kazi ignored Daria’s affronted glare. “Forget Mama’s teachings. They did nothing to help you, and she was wrong about most things.”

“Don’t disrespect the dead.”

“I didn’t respect her when she was alive. What’s the difference now?”

“Maybe Mama was right.” Daria sneered at her. “Your access to emotions died the day Papa did.”

Kazi opened her mouth—what to say, she wasn’t sure—but two loud knocks on the front door interrupted. A signal. It was a reminder of her third and final goal: to survive the rebel network.

Relations with the rebel network were new and difficult to navigate. Kazi was indebted to them. She owed them her life—and Daria and Neyti’s lives—and for that reason, she served the network’s needs. However, the network wasn’t a benevolent entity, and being indebted to its cause rattled Kazi more than she liked to admit.

Typically, she avoided debts. They forced her into a compromising position, allowing someone the opportunity to control her. She preferred self-reliance to kindness, and when she did indebt herself, she always paid it back quickly.

Her father believed it a question of honor and a true demonstration of character. Her mother took a more cynical approach: “To be in someone’s debt is to give them power over you,” she once told Kazi. “Only fools put themselves in such situations.”

Sometimes she wondered how her mother would have responded to the Purge. Would the Ennari matriarch humble her obstinance to secure a means for survival?

Whatever her mother would have decided didn’t matter. Kazi sought the network’s aid, and now she owed them. So far, she had met Eluca’s five rebels, the cohort a tight-knit group. It was one of many belonging to the larger network slowly establishing a presence in the Outer Rim.

Kazi rarely interacted within the cohort, receiving orders from Fehr or Bash, the network’s main contacts, and acted alone. But that morning, she received a comm from Fehr asking her to join an unexpected meeting. The message left her unsettled, and her arrival at the abandoned warehouse used for most meetings heightened her consternation.

Some days, like that morning, she questioned if she was walking into a trap, wary of Imperial stormtroopers posed for her capture. Today, only the five other rebels were present.

“My contact has informed me that three men want to establish a safehouse out of reach of the Empire,” Fehr said. A human woman at least twenty years Kazi’s senior and the owner of one of Hollow Town’s highest employed farms, Fehr preferred brusqueness to political coyness. It was something Kazi appreciated. “Their operations will be separate from ours.”

Carinthia, a data courier for Moff Harpy of Veridian Sector and a skilled identification and chip saboteur, narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “How do you mean?”

“These men will be running rescue-and-relocate missions.” Fehr glanced across the five other members. “They’re former employees of the Empire.”

Kazi pursed her lips, noting the discomfort of those around her. Bash, Head Treasurer of Eluca’s national bank and a well-respected member of the Elucan government, furrowed his brows. Lore and Sparks, married pilots, shared a skeptical look.

“Former employees of the Empire can’t be trusted,” Carinthia argued, her skin eerily pale in the warehouse’s shadows.

“We trust you,” Lore said casually.

Carinthia sneered. “I never worked for the Empire—”

“But your family—”

“Is of no importance.” Carinthia swiped her hand through the air. “How do we know we can trust these men?”

“The more important question is,” Kazi interrupted, irritated by Fehr’s lack of transparency, “who are these men? You say they’re former employees, but where did they work?”

“Former intelligence workers would be nice to have,” Sparks said. Lore nodded her agreement.

Fehr took a deep breath, black eyes settling on Kazi. “These men are former soldiers.”

Kazi tensed, an unwelcome burst of panic clogging the back of her throat. Fehr wouldn’t risk the dangers of—

“They’re clones.”

In the silence that followed Fehr’s declaration, Kazi forced herself not to react. She bit her tongue until it hurt, controlling her features and ordering her panic to calm the fuck down. She could not appear incompetent nor afraid.

But the panic in her chest was as sharp as an electric shock. Simultaneously heart-stopping and heart-quickening.

“Clones are loyal to the Empire,” Bash said diplomatically.

A silky voice imbued with a calm that complimented Fehr’s usual bluntness, Bash was a difficult person to read. With bronze skin and cunning silver eyes, he and Fehr were the sole rebels indigenous to Eluca. His position within the planetary government, as well as his contacts within the rebel network, made him the most important and powerful member of the cohort.

To learn that Bash wasn’t aware of the clones’ arrival intrigued Kazi. Similar to the Empire’s backstabbing politicking, it seemed the rebel network didn’t share all their information with each of its contacts. Kazi tucked away the information.

“We can’t trust them,” Bash continued.

“Be reasonable, Fehr,” Carinthia said, her smile wan. “Clone allegiance is to whichever government is in control.”

Fehr straightened, and though her tone was collected, it was lined with an edge that could cut. “These men have denounced their allegiances—”

“And their allegiances could switch again.” Sparks shook his head. Even the adventurous pilot was hesitant. “If you need an example: look at the Republic.”

Agreement swept through the small group. But Fehr was staunch in her decision.

“The clones are operating a rescue-and-relocate mission. Our paths will rarely cross, and they won’t be working planetside.” Fehr stared them down, her glare unapologetic.

Shortly after, the meeting dissolved. Kazi made to leave but Fehr motioned for her and Carinthia to stay, the latter throwing a perplexed look at Kazi. The moment Bash left, his eyes narrowed in skepticism, Fehr faced the two women.

“There’s more about the clones that I didn’t share with the cohort,” Fehr said. “The clones will be staying planetside.”

To her annoyance, Kazi noticed Carinthia studying her. They were similar in age, and yet their backgrounds were vastly different. Carinthia hailed from a wealthy family that lived in the Inner Rim, and her shrewd personality bordered conniving.

“They need somewhere spacious to make their base. Somewhere far enough away from the city where they can easily hide.” Fehr squared her shoulders and stared Kazi in the eye. “I offered the men the basement.”

Kazi blinked, uncertain if she had heard correctly.

“The basement…” Her voice hitched and she cleared her throat. “You want the clones to stay in the basement. At the house where I’m living.”

Fehr nodded.

Her hands started to tremble and Kazi clenched her jaw. Clenched it so hard she thought it might break.

“The clones are the reason I’m on this damned planet, Fehr.” The strain in her voice was palpable but she didn’t care. Fehr was the sole rebel she considered somewhat benevolent, and this new information was a betrayal she wasn’t prepared for. “Have you forgotten that?”

“I haven’t,” Fehr said calmly. Too calmly. “But these men deserted. They don’t serve the Empire and they need a place to stay. I considered one of the apartments in town but people will be curious and could start talking. The house is an ideal location.”

The house, not your house.

Because the house didn’t belong to Kazi. It belonged to Fehr who had gifted it to her when she first arrived on Eluca, homeless and penniless.

The memory still rankled her. Her pride cringed at her forced reliance on another person. Her chagrin was further heightened by her financial helplessness. Years of frugality, investments, and savings were made obsolete by the rise of the Empire.

“It’s not that awful, Kazi,” Carinthia said. “The house is large. Large enough for you three to survive cohabitation with a few clones.”

Before Kazi could respond, Fehr raised her hand. “I know your history with the clones isn’t ideal. And if you’re uncomfortable—” Carinthia released a derisive scoff that had Kazi tensing. Fehr shot the younger woman a hard look. “If it’s too much, I can look at other locations. But the basement—”

“Is ideal,” Carinthia cut in. “It’s large enough, and it connects to the communications tower. I assume that’s a necessity for them.” Carinthia twirled a crimson curl around a finger, her expression contemplative. “Eluca’s proximity to a well-plotted hyperlane, and the surgent of Imperial military bases across Veridian Sector and the Outer Rim, at large, make this planet the most effective base.”

Fehr nodded, her attention returning to a still-silent Kazi. “It’s your choice.”

Except it wasn’t. Not really. The house wasn’t even in her name—an attempt to protect her sister and Neyti. To prevent Imperial officials looking into their sudden immigration and ambiguous history.

It was an older yet well-maintained home settled in a forgotten neighborhood five kilometers from Hollow’s Town. The neighborhood stood empty except for two other houses located a kilometer away.

Built a century prior in the midst of a planetary civil war, the basement served as a bomb shelter. One of four designated for the neighborhood. Fortified by duracrete and buried deep in Eluca’s soil, the basement housed five bedrooms with ten bunks each, three refreshers equipped with full amenities, and a war room dedicated to military strategy. The war room was still wired to the communication tower in the capital. The only communication tower available for public use in Veridian Sector with consistent and reliable access to the Mid and Inner Rims.

Kazi had visited the basement once. The darkness, and the knowledge that hundreds of tons of dirt could easily bury her, convinced her never to return. It was the ideal location for rescue-and-relocate missions. Which irked her.

“It’s fine.” She clasped her hands behind her back. She was indebted to Fehr, anyway. “We can make it work.”

Three more knocks, rapid and quieter, followed the first two. The completion of the signal. Kazi followed Daria through the kitchen and toward the front door, her body tensed to a point of pain. Anxiety itched her skin, like thousands of ants crawling along her spine and burrowing in her hair.

She opened the door and then retreated a safe distance. Fehr stepped into the small entryway. Behind her, three males followed. Dark gray ponchos hid their upper bodies and hoods cast their faces in shadows.

Kazi schooled her features into insouciance. One of the few benefits of etiquette lessons: she could control her expression. For the most part.

Rain frizzed Fehr’s ebony hair and the older woman patted her braids, nodding at Kazi. She scanned the kitchen behind the two sisters. “Is Neyti—”

“Asleep.” Her tone was curt and she ignored Daria’s disapproving scowl.

The older woman chuckled. “School must have been exhausting if she can sleep in this weather.”

“The thunder was louder back—” Well, it didn’t matter.

Silence ensued, eclipsed by the echoing thunder and the rain from the clones’ ponchos dripping onto the hardwood floor. Ever the dutiful host, Daria stepped forward, her smile practiced kindness and warmth.

The ease in her sister’s friendliness was a point of jealousy for Kazi. Growing up, she yearned to exude the same gentleness Daria effortlessly managed. She never perfected it.

“Welcome,” Daria said. She gestured to Kazi. “We made up three of the beds downstairs and stocked the fridge with extra food.”

It was a lie. Kazi didn’t shop for the food—only Daria—and she didn’t make the beds. She lugged the sheets and pillow cases from the upstairs closet to the basement but she refused to make a bed for a grown adult.

The clone to the left stepped forward and removed his hood. Beneath the dimmed lights in the entryway his skin was dark brown and his eyes even darker. A white scar threaded itself from his temple to his cheek. Black hair was trimmed precisely, long enough to run a hand through. He looked to be a year or two older than Kazi. Possibly twenty-eight.

“That was generous of you,” the clone said. He gestured to the two other clones. “We’re grateful for this.”

A blush darkened Daria’s cheeks and Kazi almost rolled her eyes. Her sister extended her hand and the clone accepted it. “I’m Daria, and this is my sister, Kazi.”

Kazi didn’t step forward; she didn’t offer her hand. She merely nodded. The clone assessed her for a moment, his eyes flitting from her face to Daria’s, probably noting their differences.

Trained for society, Daria carried herself with an easy elegance. Her hair was honeyed and loosely curled. The green of her eyes was darker than the jungle after a rain shower. Hours gardening over the years had softened the curves of her body.

Unlike her sister, years of swimming left Kazi with an athletic and toned build. A body type undesired by high society Ceaian males, as she was told, repeatedly, by her instructors.

And even though she attended the same finishing classes as Daria, she never mastered her sister’s posh demeanor. She was well-mannered and polite, but she spoke with a bluntness considered too judgmental, further heightened by the darkness of her eyes with their slashes of hazel.

“Like a bird of prey,” her instructor for Poise and Deportment once complained to her mother.

Her mother considered her with a critical eye, and Kazi steeled herself. “I would counter: sunlight in a meadow.”

It was one of the rare times her mother complimented her, and it had stuck with her the last seven years. To this day, her eyes remained her favorite feature.

A throat cleared and Fehr glanced at her chrono. “Kazi, Daria, let me introduce you to former commanders Cody, Wolffe, and Fox.”

Kazi’s heart faltered.

Commanders. The clones weren’t just soldiers. They were fucking commanders.

She shot Fehr a baleful glare. The older woman’s gaze was already on her face, and imperceptibly, she dipped her chin, acknowledgement and confirmation of Kazi’s unspoken accusation.

The woman had known all along the clones were former commanders. She had known and had refused to mention it.

If the situation hadn’t affected her life, Kazi would have admired Fehr’s sly play. Instead, she ignored the woman, fisting her hands tightly behind her back to hide their trembling.

The two other clones removed their ponchos. Kazi tried not to stare but the rumors were true. They were identical. Except for a few distinctive traits.

The one on the right—Commander Fox—bore a scar on his chin; his hair was similarly styled to Commander Cody’s. At her perusal, the clone arched a brow. His eyes swept across her face, in both assessment and curiosity.

She moved her gaze to the last one. Commander Wolffe.

He was observing her with a neutrally-controlled countenance. Narrowed eyes. Rigid shoulders. Calculated expression.

Kazi recognized the look in his face—the subtle wariness and hardened reticence. It was the same shrewdness she practiced. One she relied on to determine genuine from disingenuous; trustworthy from unreliable.

Emphasizing the guarded calculation in his gaze was a stark white scar. Like a bolt of lightning, it seared the skin above his right eye and slashed down to his cheek. Whatever had torn his skin must have ruined his eye, for a silver cybernetic sat in his socket.

“I have business to attend to,” Fehr said, drawing Kazi’s attention away from her analysis. The lack of explanation and the urgency in Fehr’s tone warned Kazi the ‘business’ was network-related.

Once the darkness of night swallowed Fehr’s form, Daria showed the clones to the basement. Surreptitiously hidden behind a white bookcase bereft of personable touches other than a dragon figurine and a few succulents Daria had purchased the last few weeks, the staircase to the basement was dimly lit by a buttery-yellow light. The stairs descended into a blackness thicker than the ocean’s surface on a moonless night.

Few words were exchanged. Kazi didn’t bother with false pleasantries, she left it to Daria, and soon the basement door swung back in place. The bookcase rested snugly against the white wall. Even the most observant soldier would overlook the entrance’s location.

“They seem…nice,” Daria said, shifting the pot of a vibrant blue succulent. “You could have been more inviting.”

“Why?” Kazi gave her sister a condescending smile. “Are you wanting to match me with one of them?”

“Kazi.” Daria released an exasperated sigh. “I’m trying to help you prepare—”

“I don’t need your help. And I certainly don’t want it.”

“Fine.” Dabbing at her forehead, Daria sniffed. “I’m sorry for caring.”

Kazi snorted. “Caring? Is that what you call this nagging?”

“I do care.” Daria started to tremble. “I have always cared and—” She cut off, pressing a palm to her temple, her face screwed in pain.

Kazi reached for Daria’s shoulder, her stomach dipping with concern. But her sister backed away. The dismissal silent yet resoundingly loud. Louder than the thunder rattling the old windowpanes. Her hand fell to her side; she tried to ignore the guilt bittering her mouth.

Lifting her chin, Daria smoothed the fabric of her pale purple dress. She looked Kazi over once, disappointment thinning her lips, and then made her way toward the staircase opposite the bookcase. The old stairs creaked beneath her labored pace.

The moment her sister’s door clicked shut, Kazi collapsed on the bottom step, rubbing her temples.

She didn’t want the clones here. Hell, she didn’t want to be here. On this planet. In this fucking house.

It was too much.

Daria’s disease.

Neyti’s adoption.

Spying for the network.

Three clone commanders.

A disappointment. Incompetent. Indebted. Possibly endangered.

She looked out the kitchen windows toward a clearing sky. Eluca’s three moons peeked through the clouds like a child peering through a curtain. The urge to run—to ignore all of her problems, to avoid the responsibility—hit her.

But she couldn’t run. Not this time.

Masterlist | Chapter 2

A/N: Pronunciations:

Kazi Ennari: kah-zee ; uh-nar-ee Daria: dar-ee-uh Neyti: nay-tea Fehr: fare Eluca: eh-look-ah (emphasis on first syllable) Ceaia: say-ee-uh (emphasis on second syllable)

#I Year and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #star wars fanfiction #commander wolffe fanfiction

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aquarterpastfour · 5 months ago

Text

the reprogramming of an expendable asset [4/7]

Crossposted: AO3, ff.net

Fandom: Star Trek Voyager

Event: Voyager Week, Day 4 Prompt: Time Travel

Summary: Seska goes undercover for Admiral Janeway

Asset remains unwaveringly loyal to the cause and considers death an acceptable outcome.

Their odds were worse than a dabo game rigged in favor of the house. Seska would laugh, if it wasn’t completely absurd that she was about to be phaser-canon blasted into the pre-warp age by her own people.

A lesser agent would try to find a way to indicate to the Glinn and his troopers that they were firing on an undercover Cardassian. A lesser agent would have washed out of training and tainted their future children with the mark of weakness.

Seska had graduated with highly classified distinction, thank you very much.

She fired at four troopers blocking their exit from the depot. One went down with a severe phaser burn to his abdomen, another dropped when she caught him with a beam to the face. The first would live, if he received proper medical care quickly; the latter was probably dead already.

“Six more incoming,” Torres slid behind the cargo crate beside her, looking unseeingly at the corpse of Rolans, who just seconds ago had perished at the end of a phase-disrupter blast.

Rolans should have kept his head down.

Seska fired another volley before ducking low, “How did they know we’d be here?”

The question was sincere. She hadn’t been able to meet with Holtat in four weeks.

The half-Klingon was out of breath, but formidable, firing shots in between trying to rig a site-to-site back to the Val Jean. Without looking up from either task, she did her best to hypothesize.

“My bet is the Federation. Ayala thinks they’ve found a way to track cell movements. Then they let the Cardassians do their dirty work for them.”

Most likely.

The Federation excelled at pretending it was above the moral failings of non-member species, whatever morality meant to them, but it was just another organization made up of arrogant men and women at the end of the day. One where someone wearing admiral pips could easily justify letting their once-enemy pacify terrorist cells.

“Ghuy’,” B’Elanna swore, slapping the transceiver she was trying to siphon power from.

“What do you need?” Seska demanded, monitoring a gap in the Cardassian offensive created by Ayala and Tuvok. This was a munitions depot, one the Cardassians were meant to leave unguarded (what a joke), but it should have something Torres could work her magic with.

“A miracle.”

“Come on B, give me a request I can actually work with.”

There was a glint in the engineer’s eyes. True fear, the kind that Torres liked to pretend she never felt but would sometimes share with Seska. When she needed Seska’s bravado to see them both through.

“Anything with power.”

Seska cast her eyes around and spotted an active terminal ten meters away. It wouldn’t have a lot of juice, but it might just be enough.

“That, I can do. Cover me.”

Running, half bent over while dodging phase-disrupter rifle fire was a skill hard earned, and Seska excelled at it. Twice, a pulse passed too close to her head for comfort — once it seared the skin of her ear — but she was able to duck behind the terminal and begin prying into its guts.

“You’re going to owe me one,” she muttered darkly, just before doing the dumbest thing she possibly could.

The thing about Cardassian engineers was that they never thought through safety guidelines the way the Federation’s did. If time with the Maquis had opened her eyes to anything, it was that her people could learn a thing or two about the safety life cycle of systems.

All of which meant that Torres’ power relay was going to come at a cost.

Seska bit the inside of her cheek and ignored the smell of burning flesh as she pried it loose.

End Game

Federation parties made her itch. A mandated counselor had told her once that it was a physiological response to being surrounded by people she thought were better than her. Seska thought that the man didn’t know how the Cardassian mind worked. It was clearly a physiological response to being surrounded by people that had or would look at her and decide if she had redeemed herself enough to be included in polite company.

That they thought this was their right — no, their moral obligation — would call her to violence if she was still a relic of the bygone era of imperial political thought that had defined her people.

She wasn’t. Over twenty years on Voyager had changed her, enough to see the error of her old ways.

Thinking of the shame gave her indigestion, which in turned annoyed her. She was still Seska, after all. Compared to the average Starfleet officer, she had the moral depth and clarity of a puddle of mud in a desert.

“Your wife is too young,” while the woman in question went off to mingle with the Wildmans, Seska took the opportunity to pick on the Doctor.

The alternative would be to insult Paris, but there was no fun picking on a man whose life had soured.

Besides, the hologram liked her well enough to take the jab for what it was, a plea for momentary distraction from the other party goers.

“Technically, I’m only in my thirties,” he smiled at her in greeting and handed her a flute of champagne.

“Has she even graduated college yet?”

“Graduate school, in fact. A PhD in cultural xenogeography. She’s on faculty at Oxford,” he was almost laughing at her now, silently challenging her to do better.

Seska realized she was scowling and threw back the entire glass. To hell with waiting for a toast. The dead weren’t going to be deax for long, and the living didn’t need their egos stroked.

He clinked his own glass against hers and followed suit, “Not bad for a piece of dung who refused to change himself, hmm?”

“Stop bragging, before I find a way to shave another inch of your height.”

“Another?” this time he did laugh.

Then, after savoring the fine vintage of a second glass of champagne, the Doctor decided their once a year tête-à-tête was over, “The Admiral is looking for you.”

“Better let her find me, then,” Seska ignored the attendant walking by with a tray to collect cast offs and pushed her empty crystal back into the Doctor’s free hand.

She smirked when he huffed at her retreating back, but the expression melted off her face when she spotted Harry. Despite being ten years younger than her, he didn’t look it. Time in the captain’s chair had grayed him — it had added a few more wrinkles too.

He nodded at her as he moved away from the friendly grasp of the woman she was looking for.

“Admiral,” she greeted.

Once, Janeway had asked Seska to call her Kathryn. That had been years ago, when they were nearing the end of their return to the Alpha Quadrant, back when Seska was one left who regularly challenged her.

Seska had never complied. They weren’t peers. Admiral had none when she was the Captain, and she certainly didn’t have any now. The only candidate had long ago started scribbling demented conspiracies on his room walls.

“Seska, I’m glad you could make it,” Janeway did look happy to see her. Perhaps it was due to genuine — hard won — fondness. More likely it was because she expected to receive good news.

Well, who could say no to that?

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Seska’s tone implied the opposite, but Janeway laughed and guided her to a loud corner with a gentle hand on her arm.

“It’s done,” Seska muttered, faux smile on her face as the Admiral regaled her with stories of the latest generation of brats the crew and their children had popped out. As always, no one was looking, but someone was watching.

Despite the overlap in their talking, Janeway heard exactly what Seska meant her to. The chrono deflector was hers, courtesy of a Cardassian once again taking on the facial ridges of another species.

Klingon this time. Which had been about as fun as interrogation resistance training. Remember the teeth alone was enough to make Seska shudder.

At least this time it had only been for eight months.

When the Admiral had asked her to steal the device, she didn’t say what it was for. Seska wasn’t an idiot. She knew what it looked like to drown in regret and self-blame, and what it would take to make it all go away. Janeway planned to risk her life on some pipe dream of changing the past

Good riddance.

Maybe this time she would get Voyager home with her pet drone — with Torres — alive.

If that meant Seska disappeared in a puff of timeline collapse or spent the rest of her life in a Federation penal colony, then so be it. At least then she might be able to say she’d settled her debts with the woman who’d let her choose the better path.

#star trek voyager #star trek voyager fanfiction #voyager week #Seska #kathryn janeway #emergency medical hologram

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altaqwaelectric · 1 month ago

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Protecting Your Electrical Systems: A Look into Al Taqwa’s Complete Range

In today’s fast-paced world, electrical systems power everything from homes and offices to factories and infrastructure. With increasing energy demands and the growing importance of uninterrupted power supply, having the right switchgear and protection systems is more important than ever. That’s where Al Taqwa United Enterprises LLC, one of Oman’s leading electrical suppliers, plays a crucial role.

In this blog, we’ll explore how Al Taqwa offers a complete range of electrical switchgear products that protect and power systems across the country — safely and efficiently.

Why Electrical Protection Is Critical

An electrical system without proper protection is like a car without brakes. From power surges to short circuits, the risks of equipment damage, data loss, and fire hazards are significant. High-quality electrical protection devices ensure:

· Safe power distribution

· Equipment longevity

· Compliance with safety standards

· Reduced downtime in case of faults

Al Taqwa addresses all of these needs with a comprehensive and reliable product portfolio.

Al Taqwa: A Trusted Name in Electrical Switchgear in Oman

Established in 20011, Al Taqwa United Enterprises LLC has grown into a respected electrical trading and switchgear assembly company in Oman, Qatar, the UAE, and India. Their focus on quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction makes them a preferred partner for engineers, contractors, and facility managers across sectors.

Complete Electrical Switchgear Range from Al Taqwa

Al Taqwa’s product line is designed to meet the needs of low-voltage electrical systems in residential, commercial, and industrial environments.

1. Electrical Panels and Distribution Boards

These serve as the central hub for electrical power distribution. Al Taqwa supplies and assembles:

· Main Distribution Boards (MDBs)

· Sub Main Distribution Boards (SMDBs)

· Final Distribution Boards (FDBs)

· Control Panels and Feeder Pillars

All panels are tailored to meet Omani electrical standards and international safety norms.

2. Circuit Protection Devices

The key to preventing electrical fires and damage is reliable overcurrent and earth fault protection. Al Taqwa offers:

· Miniature Circuit Breakers (MCBs)

· Molded Case Circuit Breakers (MCCBs)

· Residual Current Devices (RCDs)

· Earth Leakage Relays

These components ensure quick fault detection and automatic power cut-off during hazards.

3. Metering and Monitoring Devices

To optimize energy use and improve system performance, monitoring is essential. Al Taqwa provides:

· Analog and Digital Panel Meters

· Current Transformers (CTs)

· Voltage and Frequency Meters

· Energy Monitoring Units

These products give real-time data for smarter electrical management.

4. Electrical Accessories and Control Components

To support the full installation lifecycle, Al Taqwa stocks:

· Terminal blocks

· Cable ties and lugs

· Contactors and timers

· Rotary switches and power supplies

These ensure smooth installation, operation, and maintenance of electrical systems.

Top Electrical Brands Represented by Al Taqwa

Al Taqwa partners with internationally recognized electrical brands, including:

· Enza Electric — Quality switchgear products known across Europe and the Middle East

· Civaux Electric — Comprehensive panel systems and circuit protection components

· Stefan Electric — Trusted for metering solutions and industrial electrical accessories

· Salzer Electric — Renowned for rotary switches and control products

These collaborations ensure Al Taqwa can offer reliable, durable, and cost-effective solutions to its clients.

Beyond Products: Al Taqwa’s Expert Services

Al Taqwa goes beyond just supplying electrical components. Their team of experts offers:

Custom switchgear assembly tailored to project requirements

Site inspections and installation support

Annual maintenance contracts

Technical consultation and troubleshooting

This makes Al Taqwa a one-stop solution for all electrical needs in Oman.

Conclusion: Trust Al Taqwa for Complete Electrical Protection

When it comes to protecting your electrical systems, choosing a trusted provider like Al Taqwa ensures both peace of mind and long-term performance. From high-quality panels and circuit breakers to metering systems and expert service, Al Taqwa covers the full spectrum of electrical protection.

For engineers, project managers, or business owners looking to safeguard their infrastructure, Al Taqwa United Enterprises LLC stands out as the best source of electrical switchgear in Oman.

Explore More:

Visit https://altaqwaoman.com to view the full product catalog or request a quote tailored to your project needs.

#electrical #electrical equipment #electrical supplies #switchgear #oman #ElectricalSystems #ElectricalSafety #ElectricalSolutions #ElectricalProtection #SwitchgearSolutions #PowerDistribution #LowVoltageSystems #CircuitProtection #ElectricalPanels #ControlPanels

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daleeltrading · 1 month ago

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Top 5 Must-Have Accessories for Every Electrical Panel

An electrical panel is the nerve center of any low-voltage power distribution system — responsible for delivering electricity safely and efficiently to various circuits. While the breakers and busbars often take the spotlight, it’s the accessories that enhance functionality, safety, monitoring, and reliability. Whether you’re an OEM, panel builder, or facility manager, equipping your panels with the right accessories can make all the difference.

In this article, we explore the top 5 must-have accessories for every electrical panel, based on industry best practices and real-world applications.

1. Cable Ducts and Trunking Systems

Purpose:

Cable ducts (also called wiring ducts or trunking) are essential for organizing and routing internal panel wiring. They prevent clutter, minimize the risk of short circuits, and make future maintenance more manageable.

Key Benefits:

· Improved safety through wire separation and insulation

· Neat, professional layout that meets electrical standards

· Ease of troubleshooting during inspections or servicing

Common Types:

· Slotted PVC ducts

· Halogen-free wiring ducts (for safety-critical environments)

· Flexible ducts for tight corners

Pro tip: Always select ducts with sufficient space for future cable additions — typically 20–30% free space is recommended.

2. Terminal Blocks and Marking Systems

Purpose:

Terminal blocks serve as connection points between internal and external wiring, ensuring a secure and modular setup. Combined with proper marking systems, they allow clear identification of circuits and functions.

Key Benefits:

· Safe and reliable wire termination

· Clear labeling for faster diagnostics

· Scalable for expansions and upgrades

Essential Variants:

· Feed-through terminal blocks

· Grounding terminals

· Fuse terminal blocks

· DIN-rail mounted marking strips or markers

Tip: Use color-coded terminals and labels according to IEC or local wiring codes for better clarity.

3. Panel Meters and Monitoring Devices

Purpose:

Modern electrical panels are not just passive distribution points — they are smart monitoring stations. Panel meters and current monitoring devices help track voltage, current, frequency, and power consumption.

Key Benefits:

· Real-time data for preventive maintenance

· Improved energy efficiency

· Quick response to load imbalance or faults

Popular Options:

· Digital voltmeters and ammeters

· Multi-function energy analyzers

· Load monitoring relays

Advanced choice: Consider smart monitoring units with Modbus or Ethernet communication for integration with BMS or SCADA systems.

4. Control and Signaling Devices

Purpose:

Control and signaling accessories like push buttons, selector switches, and pilot lights are critical for human-machine interaction. They allow operators to control, signal, and monitor operations within or from the front of the panel.

Key Benefits:

· Improved operator control and feedback

· Quick visual status indication

· Enhanced safety through emergency stop functions

Must-Have Components:

· Illuminated push buttons (Start/Stop)

· Pilot lights (for voltage presence or fault status)

· Emergency stop buttons

· Audible buzzers for alerts

Best Practice: Use IP65-rated front-panel devices for industrial environments to ensure durability and resistance to dust and moisture.

5. Surge Protection Devices (SPD)

Purpose:

Electrical surges — whether from lightning or switching operations — can damage panel components or connected equipment. SPDs protect against transient over voltages.

Key Benefits:

· Prevents costly downtime and equipment failure

· Increases the lifespan of electronics and controls

· Meets compliance with IEC 61643 or UL 1449 standards

Selection Tips:

· Choose SPDs according to system voltage (230V/400V) and risk level

· Type 1 for external surge protection, Type 2 for internal panel protection

· Consider combined Type 1+2 for comprehensive safety

Smart move: Pair SPDs with monitoring modules to track surge counts and SPD health.

Final Thoughts

When designing or upgrading your electrical panel, these five accessory categories are not just optional — they’re essential. They improve safety, functionality, compliance, and operational efficiency. Whether you’re building panels for industrial, commercial, or residential applications, investing in high-quality accessories will yield long-term benefits.

At Daleel Trading, we supply trusted low-voltage switchgear accessories from leading brands like Civaux — ensuring your panels are equipped with components that meet international standards.

Ready to upgrade your panel accessories?

#electrical #low voltage #switchgear #manufacturer #panel #dubai #united arab emirates #1950s #60s #70s

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yuriinullification · 7 months ago

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One of the downsides to potentially moving away from my current city to the city my uni is in is the despite the population only increasing by like 3x the bus routes are exponentially way fucking harder to keep track of like it's ridiculous. Like you can't just take a bus directly to anywhere you want like is the case at home you have to deal with connections and regional busses and like large parts of the city apparently just not being served at all like it's fucking ridiculous this shit's so confusing. "Yes hello I want to get to Place please" there's 3 different buses that go to different stations AROUND the area and on two of them you have to walk like half a kilometer to get where you want to go but none that stop like directly nearby. Also every bus station is actually like 5 different bus stations disguised as one where each is named A, B, C, D or E. These are sometimes hundreds of meters apart, no the app doesn't tell you what sub-station you'll end up at so just pray. Also good fucking luck if you want to connect at the central terminal because there's like 20 different sub stations spread around the entire block in no particular order so like you might be searching around where A and C are trying to find B but uh oh!!!! We hate you personally and for whatever fuckign reason placed C on the complete opposite side of the station because we'd rather you kill yourself trying to find the right way than actually get where you want to go it's bad. It's so fucking bad. Love the city otherwise but I genuinely wish all the buses would spontaneously blow up

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elettro321 · 12 days ago

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Elettro ABS Junction Box IP 55/65 – The Most Advanced Protection For Your Electronics

In industrial and outdoor applications, safeguarding sensitive equipment against potential moisture, dust, and impact is a prerequisite. A failure in your enclosure can spell disaster in the form of costly short circuits, system downtimes, and expensive maintenance. That’s where Elettro’s ABS Junction Box IP 55/ 65 comes into play, a highly resilient weatherproof enclosure that guarantees electrical components are kept safe, optimally protected, and ever-durable.

Why You Should Consider An Electro Mechanical Housing With Enhanced Protection Rating

Managing elaborate automation systems, implementing solar power setups, or handling telecommunication hubs requires an electrical junction box that serves as a connective foundation. The integrity of external conditions should never compromise the protective seal this box offers ensuring dry and secure terminals, connections, and wirings.

Due to being made out of graded ABS, this Elettro’s product offers unmatched protection with extreme ease of installation. With certified IP rating, this Junction Box stands out and combines considerable form and functional reliability for both professionals and keen amateurs seeking longevity in their installations.

Key Points of Elettro ABS Junction Box IP 55/65

Shielded From Water and Dust IP55/65- The enclosure features absolute defense from solid particles such as dust and can withstand water immersion up to 1 meter for 30 minutes. This is excellent for harsh industrial areas and/or unpredictable outdoor locations.

Custom Built For Enduring Conditions- Crafted from premium Acrylonitrile Butadiene Styrene (ABS), this material is preferred for UV stable impact polymer that endures chemicals because of its impact resistance and chemical tolerance make it ideal for indoor and outdoor applications.

Requires Minimal Maintenance and Extremely Strong- Unlike standard plastic boxes, Elettro’s ABS junction box withstands much greater mechanical stress and prolonged exposure to elements while still maintaining its structure.

Tailored To Individual Needs, Multiple Sizes Offered- To accommodate various wiring and device protection needs, Elettro offers a range of size variants which enables you to select the box that fits your technical setup.

Mounting and Installation Made Easy- The user friendly locking mechanisms and the smooth surface for labeling or drilling extra holes aid with pre marked drilling locations for further labeling or marking, increasing ease of installation.

Eco friendly improved fire resistance materials used- Hardened rubber and other polymers help maintain the box's overall form while Electric Polymers aid in keeping the encased components from internal and external damage. WRAP 530 increases fire resistance, making the box much safer than alternatives.

Uses of The ABS Junction Box IP55/65

This junction box can be used for a variety of purposes and is ideal for residential, commercial, and industrial settings:

Industrial Automation Systems

Provides guard for programmable logic controllers (PLCs), relays, and terminal block assemblies.

Solar and Other Energy Systems

Applicable in outdoor solar cell (PV) connections and inverter installations.

Telecommunication Equipment

Carefully house vulnerable connectors, switches, and fiber optic splitters in outdoor networks.

Outdoor Lighting, Signage and Guarding

Stripping power and timers can be enclosed in garden flower beds, streets, and commercial sign boards.

Control Panels & Distribution Boards

Covers internal wiring from dust, insects, and tampering, keeping them protected.

Coastal and Marine Installations

Perfect for areas that are prone to salt water and require corrosion protection.

Why choose Elettro for Electrical Accessories?

For professionals in the industry along with engineers and electricians, Elettro has been and is a reliable supplier due to its quality electrical components. Their ABS Junction Box IP65 is manufactured to high standards with safety and ease of use in mind.

By purchasing from Elettro, you’re not purchasing a product but investing in safety, system durability, and most importantly, letting you rest easy.

Conclusion

Of all the existing options, Elettro’s ABS Junction Box IP55/65 is unmatched in reliability, weather resistance, and overall protection. This waterproof junction box is efficiently catered for both residential projects and expansive industrial sites, guaranteeing that the electrical systems are safeguarded from every angle.

#electrical equipment #electrical supplies

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hongjuelectronics · 19 days ago

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Detailed Explanation of Dustproof and Waterproof Design for Tactile Switches: Key Technologies and Engineering Practices for Achieving IP67 Rating

In modern electronic devices, the tactile switch, as a key component for human-computer interaction, is widely used in consumer electronics, industrial equipment, medical instruments, automotive electronics, and other fields. As product usage environments become more complex, users demand higher dustproof and waterproof performance from tactile switches. Especially in outdoor, industrial control, or high-humidity scenarios, tactile switches with an IP67 protection rating have become a mainstream requirement.

This article will delve into how to achieve the IP67 dustproof and waterproof rating from the perspectives of structural design, sealing technology, material selection, and process control. Combining practical application cases and industry experience, it provides systematic technical guidance.

I. Definition and Significance of IP67 Rating

IP Rating (Ingress Protection), defined by the IEC 60529 standard:

The first digit "6" indicates complete dust protection, meaning no dust can enter the switch interior.

The second digit "7" indicates protection against immersion in water, meaning the product can withstand immersion in 1 meter of water for 30 minutes without water ingress.

Therefore, achieving IP67 protection requires sealing against dust and resisting short-term water immersion impact. This poses significant challenges for small devices like tactile switches, which primarily rely on mechanical contact.

II. Core Design Elements for Achieving IP67 Dustproof and Waterproof Performance

1. Sealing Structure Design

(1) Overall Enclosed Structure

The key to IP67 protection is the gapless design of the structure itself. Tactile switches often adopt the following structural encapsulation:

Upper and Lower Shell Cladding Structure: The upper cover and lower base are joined airtightly through methods like hot riveting or ultrasonic welding.

Middle Frame Gasket Design: Adding a middle frame and sealing gasket in the button travel area forms a "labyrinth blocking" path.

(2) Dynamic Sealing Area Treatment

Since tactile switches require a pressing action, their structure cannot be completely static-sealed. Optimization can be achieved through:

Using Elastic Silicone Sealing Caps (Rubber Boot): Placing flexible sealing caps in the finger contact area that can withstand repeated pressing while maintaining the seal.

Setting Guide Pillars: Guiding the movement path to reduce seal damage caused by oblique pressure.

"Umbrella-Shaped" Shield Design between Button and Shell: Effectively blocks water droplet penetration.

Case Example: An industrial handheld terminal used tactile switches with a silicone waterproof cap + integrated injection-molded structure design. By setting an O-ring at the junction between the shell and PCB and using conformal coating to protect solder joints, it successfully passed IP67 protection tests.

2. Sealing Film and Button Cap Design

(1) Selection of Sealing Film Material

Dustproof and waterproof films are typically placed between the switch top cover and the operation area. Key materials include:

PET Film + Fluorine Coating: Waterproof while offering good breathability.

High-Elasticity Silicone Film: Can be formed into raised "blisters" to accommodate multiple presses.

Such films require:

High tear resistance (≥30 N/mm)

Excellent elastic recovery (>95%)

Long-term crack resistance (>1 million cycles lifespan)

(2) Special Structure of Button Caps

Button caps need to balance user feel and sealing. Common designs include:

Screw-Lock Button Cap: Cannot be easily removed after installation, preventing moisture ingress.

Integrated Silicone Button Cover: Button and shell formed as one piece, reducing joint gaps.

Flexible Groove Design: Presetting deformation zones at the press point improves pressing efficiency while maintaining the seal.

3. Shell and Material Selection

(1) Shell Material Requirements

Shells require not only mechanical strength but also long-term stable waterproof, dustproof, and corrosion-resistant properties:

(2) Sealants and Waterproof Coatings

To enhance sealing, sealants or waterproof coatings are often applied at shell edges or seams:

Epoxy Resin Sealant: Used for bottom potting.

PU/Silicone Waterproof Coating: Suitable for protecting domes and solder joints.

Nano Waterproof Coating: Adds a surface hydrophobic layer to ultra-thin switches.

III. Impact of Production Process Control on IP67

1. Ultrasonic Welding vs. Hot Riveting

Ultrasonic welding creates strong fusion points on shell edges, suitable for mass production.

Hot riveting is suitable for precise fitting of small components, ideal for size-constrained tactile switches.

2. Automated Dispensing Sealing

Use precision dispensing equipment to apply sealant (e.g., UV glue) at key gaps. The following parameters need control:

Dispensing volume consistency ±5%

Curing time matching assembly cycle

Preventing glue overflow affecting action travel

3. Online Seal Testing (IP Leak Test)

Use pressure testing equipment to perform seal detection on assembled switches:

Apply positive pressure to 30kPa; pressure drop ≤1kPa within 30 seconds is qualified.

Or perform water immersion verification via a vacuum chamber to confirm no bubble leakage.

IV. Practical Case Study: IP67 Tactile Switch in Outdoor Smart Controller Application

A customer developed an outdoor lighting control terminal, requiring a tactile switch with volume <7×7mm, SMT support, and IP67 rating. We implemented the following solution:

Selected surface-mount tactile switch + sealed silicone cap combination.

Shell used PA66 glass fiber-reinforced plastic, featuring UV resistance and hydrolysis resistance.

Embedded high-rebound light-guiding silicone at the button area, balancing waterproofing and backlighting.

Protected PCB via conformal coating spray + epoxy potting.

The final product passed salt spray test for 120 hours and waterproof test (1m/30 minutes) without issues.

Ultimately, the switch entered mass production smoothly, with annual shipments exceeding 300,000 units, receiving positive customer feedback.

V. Future Trends and Technological Evolution Directions

Higher Protection Ratings (IP68): Adapting to extreme scenarios like diving or high-pressure washing.

Miniaturized Waterproof Structure Design: Meeting the dual requirements of extremely small size and sealing for devices like smartwatches and earphones.

Visual Simulation Design: Introducing CFD (Computational Fluid Dynamics) simulation to predict water ingress paths and stress deformation.

Eco-friendly Waterproof Materials: Promoting the use of halogen-free, waterproof materials compliant with ROHS/REACH regulations.

Conclusion

Achieving IP67 dustproof and waterproof performance for tactile switches requires comprehensive consideration of structural sealing, material selection, and process control. Especially in industrial and outdoor applications, their reliability directly impacts the stability of the entire machine. Through rational design of sealing films, selection of weather-resistant materials, optimization of shell structures, and mature manufacturing processes, it is entirely possible to create highly protected tactile switches that balance tactile feedback and environmental adaptability.

Against the backdrop of increasingly stringent market demands, tactile switches with dustproof and waterproof capabilities will become standard for high-end equipment, and also represent a significant manifestation of technological differentiation for switch manufacturers.

en.dghongju.com

#factory #tactile switch

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auroras-void · 2 years ago

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I organize my hotbar differently depending on what I'm doing, it varies wildly and I'm not super consistent about it but there's usually a reason why I lay things out.

Generally though my most important heuristic is I tend to try to maximize flexible slots and inventory space for building materials and shulker boxes/crates over having lots of regular tools available to me. I keep those in a toolbox of some kind be it an ender chest box or a backpack or a literal toolbox.

For starters even in vanilla I play with tweakeroo so I try to only have one hotbar slot dedicated to tools. Even with that though I generally try to put away extra tools into a shulker box or a backpack.

Weapons come off my hotbar if I'm building something. Food typically goes in offhand. In modded I don't carry torches either because I usually have some sort of alternative way to spawnproof an area that doesn't rely on lighting. Like claimed chunks, megatorch, spawnproof beacon radius, peaceful surface, or no hostiles around campfires. I also usually play with creeper explosions off so sometimes I'll just tolerate having to fish out a weapon whenever a mob shows up, which is pretty infrequent if you spam beds around your workspace and keep extra on you and work on the surface.

What exactly does make it onto my hotbar really depends on the kind of infrastructure I have or the tools in my modpack. If I have some way to increase fist break speed for example tools might come off my hotbar entirely for some tasks. Slot 1 might become a mobility tool, or I might just go full creative hotbar. I also usually will keep some sort of access to storage, be it a wireless terminal or a stack of ender chests.

In modded whatever storage I can bind a hotkey to also usually becomes an extension of my hotbar. How I organize it depends on how it works though. Most common though is definitely a backpack bound to mouse4 that I keep absolutely *loaded* with any tool I could possibly need, by far my favorite way to organize things.

I can keep wiring, redstone, pipes, conduits, cables, shulker boxes, wrenches, hammers, wirecutters, multitools, spellbooks, torches, buckets of water and lava, ice, potions, mana, compasses, clocks, meters, maps, wands, scaffolding, computers, robots, swords, daggers, cutlasses, falchions, claymores, spears, halberds, sponges, lighters, gapples, spare picks, hoes, the one ring to rule them all, wings, rails, carts, railguns, explosives, jetpacks, meme items, nets, leads, gears, shafts, chains, wax, crafting materials, pulleys, grappling hooks, pearls, goggles, scuba gear, space suits, soul sand, magma, kelp, string, spyglasses, rulers, sextants, astrolabes, measuring tape, portal guns, gravity guns, spud guns, regular guns, animal feed, emeralds, beehives, asphalt, liquid concrete, monitors, blood sacrifices, shields, armor, hazmat suits, villager work stations, coal, oil, wizard robes, instruction manuals, severed heads of my enemies, case of loaded firework crossbows, precious jewels, barrels, drums, fluid tanks, cursed artifacts, note blocks, juke boxes, a 12 piece symphony orchestra, chisels, covers, fishing rods, facades, frames, valves, cranks, handles, miniature black holes, saws, server currency, law textbooks, dimensional rifts, bells, doors, arrows, tablets, ammunition, crafting blocks, cannons, chunk overload books, dyes, hard drives, warp drives, tridents bounce pads, medium amethyst crystals, wither skulls, crates, chalk, candles, totems, mud, bundles, half an ikea warehouse worth of furniture, anvils, remotes, cactus, batteries, generators, iron rods, buttons, levers, lamps, knives, myalite, notebooks, pedestals, item frames, debug sticks, barriers, end gateways, firework rockets, space rockets, beacons, missile rockets, slime, honey, ichor, coagulated blood, superglue, nets, cages, drawers, quarries, drills, cranes, planes, trains, automobiles, cutting boards, nuclear launch codes, blueprints, spell slates, fast travel, ladders, vines, rope, fertilizer, bonemeal, *anything* I can think of that I could even maybe possibly need some day I'll carry it there. Like I'm joking about way fewer of these than you'd think lol I'd say I've carried most of these in my backpack at least as a one off, and maybe the majority at least one time regularly before. (try to guess which of the weird ones I'm serious about lol)

Even in vanilla I always keep at least one shulker box that acts as a toolbox that I always fill to the brim.

Really everything is about flexibility.

Out of curiosity, does anyone else organize their Minecraft survival hotbars? This is how mine looks, for example, with slots 1-4 being my sword + tools, slot 5 being my bow, slot 6 being food, slot 7 & 8 being miscellaneous, and slot 9 being for torches. I'm not sure if this is standard, but it's how I've always done it.

#rb #ngl like halfway through I just zoned out and started listing things for the sake of listing things #listing things is fun #void

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auckam · 1 month ago

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Explore the precision of modern electronics with this exploded view of a custom PCB enclosure, showcasing compact IoT-ready hardware, terminal blocks, relay modules, and industrial-grade components. Ideal for smart metering, embedded systems, and IIoT devices. Built for performance and durability — engineered by the experts at www.auckam.com.

#PCBDesign #EmbeddedSystems #SmartElectronics #IIoT #ElectronicsManufacturing #ProductEngineering #IndustrialAutomation #IoTSolutions #Auckam #HardwareDesign #CustomEnclosure #TechInnovation #SmartDevices

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zponds · 1 month ago

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The Genie Team — The Aftermath of the Attack on Chicago

The following morning, everyone wakes up in their respective homes. As they all do their morning routines, they all see national emergency broadcasts on TVs, phone screens, etc, about a massive hurricane that appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night. In Dexter’s laboratory, Dexter uses a Cybertronian computer terminal (at the Cybertronian half of his lab) to connect to one of his (Cybertronian-upgraded) satellites in orbit to scan the hurricane and finds that the hurricane is a category 7 super-hurricane with Chicago in the eye of the storm, and the hurricane covers the rest of Illinois, all of Wisconsin, Michigan, Indiana, Iowa, Ohio, Kentucky, nearly all of Missouri, Tennessee, most of West Virginia, half of Pennsylvania & New York (state), most of Minnesota & West Virginia, and part of South Dakota, Nebraska & Kansas, Virginia and Arkansas… not to mention all the Great Lakes and half of Lake Ontario. On top of that, the hurricane has 450mph winds, super heavy rains and downpours, lethal floods, and F-6 to F-7 tornadoes. And the hurricane’s heavy winds and massive downpours, as well as the 40-45 meter-flood in Chicago, cause the Mississippi River and the surrounding connected rivers to rage and and turn into a force of killer floods, effecting the states and settlements both inside and outside the hurricane’s reach. Not to mention the many populations in the states under the hurricane have been killed from the flooding, winds and tornadoes. In Chicago, two lights are seen atop the Willis Tower’s white spires; one baby blue and the other turquoise. It’s Genie Amara and Genie Michelle, overlooking the death and destruction they unleashed on the city and surrounding regions. Amara stares out at the walls of the eye of the hurricane while Michelle stares out at the flooded Lake Michigan (or at least the parts that are within the eye of the hurricane). Genie Trista flys across the deathly silent city while human-sized demonic-looking entities climb up the walls of the skyscrapers like bats climbing up cave walls. The skies above the city are clear but the city is deathly silent, with the only sounds being swooshing water, crackling fire and groaning steel with distant thunder rumbles coming from the walls of the eye of the hurricane. Matt, Inez and Jackie are among those who fortunately survived the attack, but are trapped in the hotel building where they are in. Back with the Genie Team, after gathering at the Genie School of Friendship, Dexter explains everything he discovered regarding the hurricane to Ellie and the others. Mindy thinks that the genies can just teleport to Chicago, but Dexter cuts her off by pointing out that the hurricane has a magic barrier within it, blocking any good forces from entering or leaving. I do point out that Godzilla can swim underneath the raging waters while Heisei Mothra and Rebirth 3 Railbow Mothra can head into the eye’s storm from space. Mina than has the idea that everyone else can get to Chicago through the Ark. As if on que, Ironhide and Chromia appear, saying that they and the other Autobots on the Ark (Optimus, Elite-One, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Jazz) will help out with that.

#the genie team #genie team #chicago

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enigmaticexplorer · 1 year ago

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I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter X

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.2K

A Like without a Reblog will result in an automatic block.

21 Melona

The picture frame was heavier than Kazi originally planned. Arms trembling from her awkward grip, she managed to connect the hook to the nail and secure the frame to the wall.

With a satisfied breath, she retreated a meter to assess the picture’s balance. Her triumphant smirk slid into a rictus. The right side of the black frame was tilted higher. Much higher.

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself.

A beep from her comm drew her away from the unbalanced frame. The number was familiar. Her heart stuttered.

“Lucien,” she answered tightly.

“Ms. Lucien,” the voice chirped. “This is Licae Thurmin with Eluca’s Adoption Center for Young Girls and Boys. I have a recent update on Neyti Lucien’s application.”

Kazi chewed the inside of her cheek, scanning her surroundings for any listening ears.

She was alone. The men outside, Daria in her garden, and Neyti upstairs.

“What’s the update?”

“The application you submitted has been processed and accepted,” Licae Thurmin said. “I want to remind you that a live application does not guarantee immediate adoption—”

The kind woman’s voice quieted as Kazi stared blankly at the room.

White walls housed three new paintings, the colors smudged and blotchy, common for a six-year-old artist. The refrigerator displayed a handful of sketches. On the kitchen table, a small collection of bird feathers Nova had gifted Neyti a few weeks ago rested. Beside the collection was an unfinished drawing of the feathers.

Formerly barren and devoid of personal touches—other than Daria’s succulents and Kazi’s dragon on the bookcase—the living area and kitchen now spoke of life. The existence of a family—

“I understand,” Kazi said once Licae Thurmin stopped speaking.

For a fleeting moment she hesitated. Considered revoking the application. Or asking for a deferral. The adoption center was Elucan and had no connection, at the moment, to the Empire. One of the reasons she went through this center and not another. To protect Neyti from the Empire’s eyes. So, revoking Neyti’s application wouldn’t raise Imperial suspicion.

However, it was silly—a frivolous desperation to cling to a new normal—and she knew better.

Instead, she said, “I’ll await further updates.”

The comm went silent and Kazi pocketed it, eyeing the lopsided frame next to the holoscreen. A hammer and nails scattered the floor. The measuring tape lay limply on the table.

What the hell was she doing?

Closing her eyes, she ran her hands through her unbraided hair, massaging her temples. She was stupid. So fucking stupid.

After all these years she had perfected the mirage of closeness. Of companionship, so that others felt appreciated and needed. It was all an illusion. An illusion that allowed her to maintain distance to protect herself.

And yet, sometime in the last three months, she had formed a semblance of a bond with Neyti. A bond so small and fragile it could easily be snipped. But it still existed.

The tightness in her chest, the empty disappointment in her bones, were proof an attachment was forming.

Three goals. She had outlined three goals upon her move to Eluca, and one of them was Neyti’s adoption. The application’s process and submission shouldn’t have surprised her. She had no right to be upset.

“You are aware that picture is crooked.”

The voice startled her from her thoughts and she dropped her hands to her sides. How a man so large could move around so silently was beyond her. Cheeks flushing, she frowned at Wolffe.

“Thank you for that illuminating observation.” Wolffe threw her a bland look and she sniffed her exasperation, muttering, “I was just about to fix it.”

Sweat sheened on his face and matted the white shirt he wore. Sleeves rolled to his elbows revealed the black ink darkening his left forearm. Piqued interest encouraged Kazi to analyze the tattoo closer, but she fought the urge, instead, lifting her gaze to his.

He was already staring at her. Rather, he was scanning her neck. It started, she assumed, the morning after their conversation beside the lake. His assessment was subtle, and she didn’t notice it until a week later. Now, it was obvious. And even though it had been a month since the incident, he didn’t appear content to stop.

A small piece of her appreciated his analysis—appreciated the thought of someone caring about her. A greater piece of her disliked the attention and the confusing emotions it brought forth. Life was easier and simpler when their lives remained separate and uninvolved.

Stepping toward the wall, subsequently creating distance, Kazi unhooked the picture frame. From the corner of her eye, Wolffe retrieved the tape measurer and the stylus. She held out her hand for both items. He blinked at her outstretched hand, levelled an unimpressed look in her direction, and then stepped toward the wall.

Kazi straightened. “I was going to do that.”

“I know.”

Stylus between his teeth and the old nail removed, he measured the distance from the floor to a spot on the wall. Kazi folded her arms.

“I can do it—”

“I know.” Wolffe penciled a small dot and dropped the tape measurer. He extended his hand to her and she rolled her eyes, handing him the hammer. “Did you present the intel?”

A frisson of unease twisted in her stomach. “I did.”

His silence, as he hammered the nail into the wall, demanded further explanation.

Kazi glanced out the window that overlooked Daria’s garden. A neatly-twined hat kept the sun off her sister’s face, but it was the obvious trembling in Daria’s hand as she snipped dead leaves from her plants that caught her attention.

“The magistrate was impressed,” she said to Wolffe. “But he didn’t elaborate on my findings. I still don’t know why he’s interested in this.”

Wolffe set aside the hammer and hefted the picture frame. Annoyingly, he didn’t struggle with its awkward size or its heaviness.

“You’re sure the outpost is abandoned?” she asked.

“I’ve told you”—he grunted and hefted the frame higher—“it’s been cleared for months.”

Nearly five weeks ago, Kazi noticed a nearly imperceptible pattern in her data analysis for the magistrate. A pattern concerning deserted clones.

Most of the clones Wolffe and his men rescued relied on secure comm channels. However, there were a handful of desperate ones. Those who needed a quick extraction and couldn’t wait for a secure channel. And even though they spoke in code, their transmission could be located.

Hence the pattern: Before a clone deserted, Eluca or Coruscant received a long-range transmission. Days later, the deserted clone disappeared.

Luckily, the pattern had occurred only three times—twice to Coruscant and once to Eluca. But, Kazi feared if she noticed the pattern, someone else might, too. It could lead to an Imperial investigation. So, she decided the best solution was to manipulate the data to a different location.

The outpost was a secret, former Republic station located on a hyperlane route within Veridian Sector. It stored rations and additional weapons and was used primarily by commando units who needed a hideout in the midst of a mission. According to Cody, who offered the outpost’s location, it was abandoned a few months before the war’s conclusion. After a Separatist ship located it.

Seemingly forgotten by the Empire, Wolffe and his brothers had stripped the outpost of its goods. And now that it was emptied of provisions, the men claimed it no longer served a necessary purpose to their missions.

The solution was simple. All transmissions between deserted troopers and the men would appear connected to the outpost rather than Eluca. Thanks to the outpost’s long-range communication tower.

Wolffe stepped away from the wall. “I want to know: What will happen to you when the magistrate realizes the outpost is abandoned?”

The question was a point of contention the last two weeks. Wolffe thought it too risky to provide an abandoned location, arguing the magistrate was too impulsive and it could threaten Kazi. She argued the need to deliver intel and keep the magistrate satisfied outweighed a possible reaction.

“I think it’s still crooked,” she said, changing the conversation.

Jerking his gaze to the frame, Wolffe scowled. “It’s not.”

“Huh.” Placing the tools in the tool box, she shot him an awkward grimace. “Thank you. For helping. Even though I didn’t ask you to.”

With a roll of his eyes, Wolffe crossed his arms over his chest. He watched her, and when she was finished, he cleared his throat. “I keep expecting you to return with new bruises.”

A current of tension tightened her skin and she rubbed a spot on her arm. A month had passed since her interaction with Magistrate Aro, and yet she still woke some nights from a phantom pain in her neck. Her sheets dampened by sweat. Her heart racing erratically. A shout of terror built in her throat. It took a long time for her to return to a fitful sleep.

Most of the time, she avoided thoughts regarding that day, and she diverted conversation whenever it seemed Wolffe might reintroduce the issue. Especially in the past few weeks when discussing an intentional mislead through the outpost.

“I don’t know why you would expect that—”

“What will happen to Neyti? To your sister? Have you thought about them?” Wolffe exhaled sharply. “Lying to the magistrate is needlessly dangerous.”

“It’s not.” Irritation heated her blood and she folded her arms across her chest. He knew she only ever thought about Neyti and Daria—that they were her first concerns in everything. “You know I wouldn’t do it if it weren’t necessary.”

“And what happens if you die?” He took a step toward her. “You’ll leave my brothers and I with a kid—”

“If that’s your concern”—she lifted her chin, glaring—“let me reassure you. There’s an adoption center in the capital—”

“Do you really think so little of us?” His tone was harsh. His eyes were narrowed in indignation. “Of me?”

Time spent with the men the past month had convinced her of their honorable character. They wouldn’t abandon Neyti, and they wouldn’t abandon Daria. Kazi knew this to be true. But she had also learned an important lesson over the years: relying on another was a direct path to abandonment and hurt.

The optimistic side of her that believed in morals and ethics and justice yearned to trust Wolffe. The realistic side of her, the side that endured too much and yearned to protect, couldn’t relinquish control.

At her continued hesitation, Wolffe huffed a wry chuckle.

“I told you,” he said curtly, “if a problem arises, we will protect you—”

She shook her head. “That’s not your job.”

“You’re fucking aggravating, you know that?”

“Me?” Her eyes widened. “Have you met yourself?”

Wolffe scoffed. “You’re closed off and guarded. Too independent to ask for help. You’re stubborn and self-righteous, and it’s fucking aggravating.”

“You’re guarded, too.” A scornful smirk twisted her mouth. “You carry responsibility like you’re the only one who can. You’re reserved and apathetic, and borderline overbearing.”

Rolling his eyes, Wolffe opened his mouth but he was cut off by the approach of padded footsteps. A pair of bunny slippers rounded the corner.

Dressed in a green dress, Neyti wandered toward Kazi and Wolffe. She frowned at the recently hung picture frame.

“It was Mr. Wolffe’s idea,” Kazi said quickly. Wolffe levelled a disapproving scowl in her direction but she ignored him. “What do you think?”

Tilting her head to the side, Neyti scrutinized the frame.

Kazi followed her line of sight. “It’s crooked, isn’t it?”

Wolffe sighed.

Tiny hands wringing together, Neyti didn’t react to the comment. Hesitation hunched her shoulders and distress worried the line between her eyebrows.

Kazi shared a disconcerted look with Wolffe. The man eyed the little girl, his gaze intense and assessing.

“Neyti?” Kazi searched the youngling’s face. “Is everything okay?”

Gray eyes, wide and timid, bounced between Wolffe and Kazi. Understanding the girl’s unspoken discomfort, Wolffe excused himself, making his way through the sunroom and out the backdoor.

“Did something happen?” Kazi hedged.

Dark thoughts spun in her mind, like a spider spooling its web, and she considered the past week in its entirety. The only disruption was the men’s last mission. The three deserted clones they rescued had left yesterday.

Uncertainty stalled her heart and she glanced toward the sunroom’s windows. If something had happened to Neyti—

Blinking rapidly, Neyti reached for her hand. Neyti’s throat bobbed and Kazi squeezed her fingers. Gently, softly.

Neyti tugged on her hand and led her to the stairs. Nonplussed, Kazi followed Neyti up the staircase. Her bewilderment increased when they wandered down the short hall and found themselves in Daria’s bedroom.

Pale pink curtains lined the windows that overlooked the backyard. Sunlight dappled the carpeted floor. The room was fresh and inviting, except for the clothing items littering the bed like unwanted paint splats. Kazi pursed her lips at her sister’s lack of basic cleanliness.

Daria was always put together, and yet she couldn’t make her bed in the mornings. The contradictions in her personality never failed to irk her.

A white dresser housed a dozen succulents, the plants ranging from prickly cacti to flowery geometrics. Opened and recently written in, a notebook sat on the desk. Penned in superfluous script was the day’s date.

Kazi had half a mind to read her sister’s diary. If Daria refused to respect her personal space, willingly sharing her adventure book with Neyti, then the same rules applied to her. Maybe she would finally understand her sister’s thought process. Then again, she would probably read diatribes concerning her actions and complaints concerning her perpetual singleness.

Neyti dropped her hand and wandered into Daria’s ‘fresher. Kazi followed, watching as Neyti extracted one of Daria’s morning/evening potions. Liquid an iridescent blue, the potion shimmered beneath the fractured sunlight. An empty bottle from this morning sat behind the faucet.

With an abashed grimace, Neyti mimed draining the potion in the sink. Kazi’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. Neyti repeated the gesture.

Realization dawned on Kazi, slow and creeping, like the sun rising on the horizon, and with it, the world around her quieted.

Slowly, she peered into the black basin, running a finger along the bottom. She withdrew her hand, praying Neyti was wrong.

A blue tint coated her finger pad.

Her breathing sharpened. Her throat dried.

She thought she might be sick.

Months of unexplained symptoms, months of unusual episodes suddenly made sense.

A dull roaring filled her head. She turned on her heel.

The descent down the stairs passed in a haze.

In the kitchen, Daria was washing the gathered herbs and vegetables from her garden. Her dress fell to her knees, light and airy. The white spoke of innocence. A quiet tune sounded from the radio. Daria noticed her and she started to smile.

Hand shaking, Kazi raised the empty bottle.

“You haven’t been taking your medicine.”

The statement was muffled by the ringing in her ears and Kazi took a deep breath, focusing on the kitchen. Focusing on her open-mouthed, stunned sister.

“What the fuck is your problem?” She hissed the words in a spit of vitriol so pure Daria stumbled back a step. “What the fuck? What the actual fuck?”

Flustered, Daria turned off the sink and patted her hands on a towel. A slight twitch in her eye belied the casual blasé she was trying to exude. “It’s none of your business, Kazi.”

“Like hell it isn’t—”

“It’s not!”

Shocked by her sister’s sudden change in demeanor, Kazi stiffened.

Daria glared at her. “What I do and do not do with my healer’s recommendations is not up for your judgment and criticism—”

“It fucking is!” Kazi snarled. “It’s all up to my fucking judgment because I’m the one who’s wasted money and time trying to ease your pain and prolong your fucking life!”

Kazi slammed the empty bottle into the kitchen sink. The clatter of breaking glass further incensed her.

“Months of paying Healer Natasha to help you with your symptoms”—she fisted her hands at her sides—“and you haven’t been taking your fucking medicine. What the fuck is your problem?”

Rage, roiling like the sea in the midst of a hurricane, churned within her body. It dominated her thoughts, dominated the tautness in her muscles and the tightness in her lungs.

After her father died, Kazi taught herself to control her emotions. Primarily her anger. Formerly quick-tempered, young Kazi could work herself into a conniption of such rage she would cry.

Anger was her least favorite emotion. When she experienced it, she felt unbalanced, and her façade of perfect composure and unaffected apathy splintered beneath the emotion.

Her mother exploited her defensive anger. She used it to ridicule and humiliate her. To force her to obey.

So young Kazi learned to shut down. The moment she felt her emotions rising, circling outside her control, she gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and told herself over and over that she didn’t care.

She numbed herself to her mother’s scorn. Numbed herself to feeling.

Years of training herself to dominate her emotions rather than accept or acknowledge them created her cool, aloof personality. It was her shield against a world of change that constantly felt out of her control.

And so this rage—receding and crashing inside her—unnerved her.

The lack of control frightened her. But she didn’t care.

She couldn’t care because her sister—the person she had pooled money, time, and effort into helping—decided to forego her daily medicine. Medicine designed to ease her suffering. Lessen the severity of her symptoms. Offer her more time to retain her mental sanity.

“You have no right to be upset with me.” Daria glowered. “You don’t care what happens to me—you don’t care that this illness is killing me. You haven’t cared about me, or anything else, for that matter, in years.”

Kazi hardly processed the words.

The roaring in her head was too loud and her thoughts too distorted by this revelation.

She didn’t care about the hurt in Daria’s tone, and she didn’t care about Daria’s accusation. Especially since her sister’s accusation was partially true. She hadn’t cared about anyone or anything in a long time.

There was a reason for that.

“It seems I’ve given you too much free reign,” Kazi said tightly.

Swallowing her anger, forcing it down and locking it away, she took a deep breath.

Numbness returned and, with it, clarity.

“It’s clear you’re a danger to yourself.” She stared at Daria, unfeeling. Flippant. “You don’t care about your health or trying to prolong your life. And since you’ve shown a lack of concern and maturity, I think the best option would be hospitalization.”

Dismay widened Daria’s eyes and she retreated to the far counter. Her mouth opened and closed. The tremble in her lower lip worsened.

When the silence lengthened between them, tight as a wound harpoon, Daria lifted her chin. “How could you do this to me?”

“You’re doing this to yourself.” Kazi chuckled, the noise acerbic and unrepentant. “Your lack of propriety to take care of your own health—”

“I’m your sister and you’re threatening me because I refused to take a dumb potion—”

“The medicine is supposed to help—”

“The medicine takes them away!”

The brokenness in Daria’s voice forced Kazi to pause.

Confused, she could only frown. “What?”

“It takes them away.” Daria pressed a hand to her mouth and choked. “Mama and Papa. I can’t see them when I take the medicine.”

Time stood still for a moment as Kazi considered her sister’s bewildering statement.

And then it hit her.

The moments she noticed Daria staring off into space, smiling at nothing.

Hallucinations. Her sister was hallucinating their parents.

“When I see them,” Daria murmured, “I don’t feel so lonely.”

Her sister’s gaze was deadened, lacking the vibrancy Kazi used to envy when they were younglings. A gaze so full of life and joy. Eager to explore, intrigued by stories. Loving.

“I miss them, Kazi,” Daria whispered hoarsely.

Gritting her teeth, Kazi exhaled a slow breath.

“It’s harder to remember them,” Daria said. “I can’t remember what they look like.”

Daria stood before her pale and sick-looking, once-fresh features drawn and weary. The fullness of her cheeks had hollowed; even the plump pink of her lips were dull.

“I’m scared.” The words were defeated. Daria raised a shaky hand to her cheek and wiped away a tear. “I’m losing more of myself every day. I’m scared of forgetting everything, and the medicine only makes it worse. I don’t want to lose Mama and Papa. I don’t want to be alone.”

The fear in Daria’s voice, the unspoken plea, rendered Kazi speechless. Her sister—the woman she had loved more than anyone else in the galaxy—wasn’t preserving her life out of fear of being alone. As if companionship through hallucinations meant something.

It was selfish. Daria would die sometime in the near future and she would leave Kazi. Her sister didn’t understand the meaning of loneliness.

Her sister didn’t understand the fear of being alone.

“Every morning I will watch you take your medicine,” Kazi said coldly. “And every night I will watch you drink that damned potion. Got it?”

Visible shock tightened Daria’s features and then darkened into hate. “I’m not a child for you to hover over.”

“It’s quite obvious that you are.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” Daria corrected a wrinkle in her dress. “If you want to mother someone maybe you should start with the actual child in this house. Neyti lacks any sort of emotional care because you’re so unfeeling it’s borderline monstrous.”

Kazi flinched at the harshness of the words.

“What do you want me to do?” she demanded. “I am trying. I am trying to do what is best for this family, but you don’t care. Nothing I do is ever good enough for you. And now you mention Neyti?”

Resentment bittered her mind and she laughed ruefully.

“What do you want me to do with her? Give her away?” She threw up her hands. “Maybe I should because I don’t fucking know what else to do! I didn’t ask for this, Daria. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be responsible for either of you—”

A broken sob cut through her rant and Kazi froze.

No.

Kazi looked over her shoulder, to the little girl who was cowering on the stairs. The little girl who had been here this entire time, forgotten.

Horrified, Kazi took a tentative step toward her. “Neyti—”

Neyti sprinted away. Up the stairs.

Kazi stared at the abandoned space.

Her lungs squeezed. Her stomach felt empty. Her blood ran cold.

A numb sensation, cold and unfeeling, pooled in her toes and slowly rose. It entombed her body.

She’d fucked up.

She’d fucked up even worse than forgetting the field trip.

A brittle laugh drew her attention and she turned her gaze on her sister. To the sister who was staring at her like she truly was a monster.

“Mother was always right about you.” Daria laughed again. The sound as broken as Neyti’s sob. “You’re too emotionless to care about anyone but yourself.”

The words repeated over and over as she climbed the stairs.

If only Daria knew how little she cared about herself.

If only her little sister knew the depth of her self-hatred.

If only her sister knew she brushed aside emotions because they were nothing but a liability.

Kazi knocked on Neyti’s cracked-open door.

The silence that followed was deliberate.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Over the years she promised herself she would never be like her mother. Critical comments, judgmental stares, constant disapproval. She promised she would always be better.

She should have known she would fall short. She should have known she would fail, and she would hurt those around her.

“I’m so sorry, Neyti. What I said”—her voice cracked and she gulped—“was wrong. I spoke out of anger and I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I’m so sorry.”

Unwavering silence resounded from the room.

Sliding to the floor, Kazi pressed her forehead against the door. “I made a promise to your mother.”

The memory was stark in her mind.

Chaotic streets darkened by night.

Screams of terror. Children’s sobs.

A woman and daughter fleeing.

The crack of a blaster.

A child, bleeding and crying, shoved into her arms.

“I promised your mother that I would protect you,” Kazi said hoarsely. “I promised her that I would do everything in my power to keep you safe. To give you a chance at a new life.”

Vision blurring, she rubbed at her wettened cheeks.

“I’m going to give you that new life,” she whispered. The adoption application was finalized and the search for real parents could finally start—the search for a home where Neyti would never hurt again. “I promise.”

The door squeaked open a smidge.

Sitting on the opposite side, her cheek pressed to her knees and tears in her eyes, Neyti played with the ear of a bunny.

“I want to go home.”

The words were soft and quiet, and Neyti speaking for the first time—those five specific words—flooded Kazi with shame.

All she could do was nod. In understanding. In regret.

Because Neyti knew they couldn’t return home. There was nothing left.

For either of them.

Masterlist | Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

A/N: I know it’s probably frustrating to see Kazi constantly keep up her walls and not entirely trust Wolffe. My writing has always been a way to deal with real-life emotions in realistic ways. A woman who’s struggled a majority of her life with trust issues immediately trusting the love interest because he’s a nice guy is the most unrealistic and annoying thing for me to read in novels and fics. Kazi’s trust issues are a main part of this story, and they will not be going away any time soon.

#I Yearn and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #commander wolffe fanfiction #commander wolffe fan fiction #star wars fan fiction #star wars fanfiction

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dzthenerd490 · 2 months ago

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File: OC 47

SCP#: AOB

Code Name: Skell

Object Class: Prodosa / Keter

Special Containment Procedures: A majority of SCP-AOB instances are unfortunately on the black market and a few are even confirmed to be in the custody of Group of Interest: Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd. Mobile Task Force Mu-3 “Highest Bidders” is responsible for obtaining those items and Mobile Task Force Alpha-4 “Pony Express”.

SCP-AOB items that have been contained are stored at Site-AL and kept in its own storage unit. The Storage unit is 50x100 meters and is to maintain a temperature of 1,540° Celsius. Each captured SCP-AOB instance is separated into separate sections of the storage unit. These sections are divided into “Armor” “Shield” “Melee” “Blunt” and “Gun” to correspond with the shape and function of each SCP-AOB instance.

Description: SCP-AOB are more terrible creations from Group of Interest: The Scriptures of Rotten Flesh and Cybernetic Bones. Though unlike their other projects to create an artificial god this is instead a response to the Global Occult Coalitions more recent campaign towards their termination. Each SCP-AOB instance is a living weapon created with an artificial biological substance that can change shape at will. This substance normally takes on a formless liquid but also occasionally large blocks of what looks to be colorful steel. The color texture is typically crimson red and sickly green though when hardened it takes on various and random colors like bright red, green, pink, blue, and yellow, the reasoning for this is unknown. It's debatable on whether it's sentient or not as each form it takes typically possesses a multitude of eyes and a mouth. The mass of SCP-AOB needs to eat living organic matter regularly with a single human body allowing it to remain healthy and stable for at least a month.

The Scriptures not only made this mass but also created unique devices that allow them to control and harden the shapes of SCP-AOB so it can be used as a weapon. These devices typically take on the form of a handle that resembles that of a sword, shield strap, or a gun. Those that take on melee and blunt weapon forms always have anywhere from a single eye or six eyes all around them and possess either a mouth or a stinger. In order to stay rejuvenated they use these mouths to consume whoever their user if fighting during each strike ensuing each attack is much more lethal than a regular melee attack. Additionally they eyes help watch out the wielder’s safety and can move itself to coordinate with the wielder so they will perform more precise strikes and counters.

Though this is typically an added bonus and nothing more as the hardness on the Mohs scale is 15, one of the highest even within the anomalous world. As a result, not even something as strong as diamonds or as sturdy as tungsten can leave any lasting damage on a weapon made of SCP-AOB. Additionally SCP-AOB can regenerate from any form of damage so long as it's well fed.

Shockingly, it's possible for SCP-AOB to have a more complex form like guns which also possess eyes and mouths. In this case they shoot out almost crystalized projectiles that take the form of crimson knives. These projectiles are sharp and fly fast enough to tear a human apart in a matter of seconds and can even rip through hardened steel. They normally disappear after a few seconds but when stabbed into a living being they will begin to absorb the blood of the host both killing them faster and mummifying their corpse.

There is one final form SCP-AOB can take and that's when multiple tech cores are used to make a sort of armor. A tech core exists on the chest, the back, both shoulders and hips allowing it to take a hollowed out humanoid shape for someone to wear. The armor is not only strong and durable but boosts the power and speed of the wearer making them into a living killing machine. It's also possible for the user to change the shape of the armor to certain degrees depending on how much SCP-AOB mass they have. However this armor is dangerous as if it is not well fed it will start feeding on the wearer.

SCP-AOB as a whole was discovered in 2024 during one of the GOC’s raids against a newly discovered fortress belonging to the Scriptures. Unfortunately it turned out to not only be a trap but a test for the SCP-AOB weapons. Half of the GOC forces had to retreat while the other half died. Since then the Foundation and the GOC have tried getting more aggressive in taking down the Scriptures, the GOC even created Strike Team-7450: “Frankenstein’s Killers” in response.

The Ethics Committee has ruled this as an absolute priority as recent research has shown SCP-AOB contains RC cells from Species of Interest: The Ghouls. For those that don’t know, in the 2010’s the GOC started creating weapons called “Quinque” from the RC cells of Ghouls to help suppress them during the concerning rise of Sarkite activity during those days. However, the creations of the weapons lead to an increase of aggression of the Ghouls since the quinque were made from the dead bodies of their slayed friends and family. As such both GOC forces and Ghouls started killing each other to the brink of insanity to the point that Ghouls were forming armies without Sarkite assistance, threatening to form all sorts of new and powerful Groups of Interest. It even led to the point that Japan was nearly lost as a country and the Veil of Secrecy would have been destroyed. To keep the peace the GOC suggested a ceasefire and had all the quinque destroyed and what remained sent to the families so they could finally bury their loved ones. Since then, Sarkites have lost a majority of their influence and power in Japan and the country has more or less gotten peaceful again under the veil of the anomalous world.

If its true that SCP-AOB is being created from Ghouls, then it's possible another war will break out and one that will not end so easily. As such the threat level of the Scriptures of Rotten Flesh and Cybernetic Bones has been raised significantly. There is also a proposal sent to the entirety of the ACPA to have the Group of Interest neutralized permanently. This is a massive decision as it could upset the balance of the Anomalous World in ways that cannot be predicted. This is especially given due to the large size and power of the Scriptures. It is for this reason that the decision is still pending to this day.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

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