#reactors agitators

[glasskem]

Glass‑Lined Mixing Agitators | Lab & Industrial Reactors

Reliable glass‑lined mixing agitators & lab reactors in Canada & USA. Corrosion‑resistant, high‑efficiency agitator systems for pharma, chemical & research industries.

[aefab]

The Benefits Of Using A Stainless Steel Mixing Tank With AgitatorFor Mixing Chemicals

The chemical processing industryfaces an enduring challenge such as equipment breakdowns, product contamination, and escalating maintenance costs. How do you mix aggressive chemicalsreliably and safely? Here comes the stainless steel mixing tank with agitator- a robust and enduring solution to address these challenges.

These mixing tanks are specially engineered to withstanddemanding chemical environments. They offer a safe blend of corrosion resistance, durability, purity, and operational efficiency. Undoubtedly, they are the best solution for any forward-thinking industrial operation.

Top Benefits Of Using Stainless Steel Mixing Tank With Agitator

Unyielding Resistance

When it comes to chemical mixing applications, stainless steel offers exceptional corrosion resistance. It acts as a solid barrier, protecting the underlying metal from corrosion by different chemicals.

Consider the manufacturing of specialty chemicalswhere different and aggressive reactions are common. This is where the corrosion resistance of stainless steel boosts the lifespan of the mixing equipment. It can reduce the frequency and cost of replacements.

Built to Last

Everyone knows that industrial environmentsare naturally demanding. They involve continuous operation, changing temperatures, and often abrasive materials. A stainless steel mixing tank with agitator is specially designed to handle these conditions. With strength and robust construction, they can withstand high mechanical stresses from agitators,thermal cycling from exothermic reactions and the occasional impactoccurring in production facilities.

The durability of these tanks ensures longevity. You might be assuming about the slightly higher cost. However, the improved operational life of this tank gives you the best return in the long run.

They can resist the corrosive nature of the ingredients and endure the continuous agitation and difficult cleaning cycles for years.

Easy Maintenance and Cleaning

Many chemical processes in pharmaceuticals, food and beverage, and biotechnology demand strict hygiene standards. The smooth, non-porous surface of Stainless steel makes it easy to clean and sanitize. It lessens downtime between batches, lowers labor costs, andmitigates the risk of cross-contamination.

Uncompromised Purity

In many chemical applications, make sure about the product purity. This is where the non-reactive nature of stainless steel is vital.It does not leak chemicals into the productdoes it react with the mixed ingredients.

Operational Versatility

Many chemical reactions require precise temperature and pressure control. Stainless steel mixing tanks are capable enough to operate at different temperatures and pressures. They are versatile for diverse chemical processes.

In addition, a stainless steel tank is designed and fabricated to ASME standards. By safely containing these conditions, they ensure operational safety and process efficiency.

Conclusion

The challenges faced by industrial buyers, chemical engineers, and facility managers can be solved by a stainless steel mixing tank with agitator. Are you looking for the best stainless steel mixing tank? With decades of expertise and a dedicated Kolkata-based facility, Aefab Annapurna delivers high-quality, customized agitator tanks built with precision and reliability. Choose us for durable, efficient solutions tailored to your specific industrial needs.We ensure the best and most affordable deal. Learn more at www.aefab.in.

[supriya--askdigital9]

The Importance of Pressure Vessels in the Chemical Industry

Pressure Vessel Design and Fabrication: Best Practices Understanding the Different Types of Pressure Vessels and Their Uses Safety Considerations for Working with Pressure Vessels Maintenance and Inspection of Pressure Vessels:

Pressure vessels are critical components in many industrial processes, particularly in the chemical industry. They are used for storing, processing, and transporting various substances, including gases and liquids, at high pressures and temperatures. As such, pressure vessel design, fabrication, maintenance, and inspection are critical to ensuring the safety, reliability, and efficiency of industrial operations.

At Rahul Engineering PVT LTD, we specialize in pressure vessel design, fabrication, and maintenance, providing our clients with high-quality solutions that meet their specific requirements. In this blog, we'll be discussing the importance of pressure vessels in the chemical industry and sharing best practices for pressure vessel design, fabrication, safety considerations, and maintenance.

The Importance of Pressure Vessels in the Chemical Industry

Pressure vessels are essential in the chemical industry, where they are used for a wide range of applications, including storing and transporting various chemicals, fuels, and gases. They are also used in chemical reactions, where they play a critical role in controlling temperature, pressure, and other process variables.

Properly designed and fabricated pressure vessels are essential for ensuring the safety and reliability of chemical processes. They must be able to withstand high pressures, temperatures, and other environmental factors, including corrosion and chemical attack. Moreover, they must be designed and constructed to meet stringent safety regulations and standards, including ASME, API, and other industry-specific standards.

Pressure Vessel Design and Fabrication: Best Practices

Designing and fabricating pressure vessels require specialized skills, expertise, and equipment. At Rahul Engineering PVT LTD, we follow industry best practices to ensure that our pressure vessels meet the highest standards of safety, reliability, and performance. These include:

Material Selection - The choice of materials is critical to the performance and durability of pressure vessels. We use high-quality materials that can withstand the specific process conditions and environmental factors, including temperature, pressure, and chemical exposure.

Design -We use state-of-the-art software and engineering tools to design pressure vessels that meet our clients' requirements and industry standards. Our design process considers all relevant factors, including structural integrity, stress analysis, fatigue, and corrosion resistance.

Fabrication - Our fabrication process uses advanced welding, machining, and assembly techniques to ensure the highest level of quality and precision. We follow strict quality control procedures to ensure that our pressure vessels meet all specifications and standards.

Understanding the Different Types of Pressure Vessels and Their Uses

Pressure vessels come in various shapes and sizes, depending on their specific application and process requirements. Some of the most common types of pressure vessels include:

Storage Tanks - Used for storing liquids, gases, and other substances under pressure.

Heat Exchangers - Used for transferring heat between fluids or gases.

Reactors - Used for chemical reactions, including mixing, heating, and cooling.

Separators - Used for separating and purifying substances, including gas and liquid mixtures.

Distillation Columns - Used for separating and purifying liquids based on their boiling points.

Safety Considerations for Working with Pressure Vessels

Working with pressure vessels requires strict adherence to safety regulations and standards. Some of the key safety considerations for working with pressure vessels include:

Proper Training - All personnel who work with pressure vessels must receive proper training on the safe use, handling, and maintenance of the equipment.

Safety Devices - Pressure vessels must be equipped with safety devices, including relief valves, rupture discs, and pressure gauges, to ensure safe operation.

Regular Inspection - Pressure vessels must be regularly inspected and maintained to ensure that they are in good working condition and meet all safety regulations and standards.

#pressurevessels #chemicalindustry #safety #design #fabrication #maintenance #inspection #reactors #agitators #materials #qualitycontrol #ASME #API #safetydevices #training #reliability #performance #distillationcolumns #heatexchangers #separators #storage tanks

[omegagraphite]

Demystifying Mechanical Seals: A Comprehensive Guide

Welcome to our blog, where we delve into the intricate world of mechanical seals. If you've ever wondered what exactly a mechanical seal is and how it functions, you've come to the right place. In this guide, we'll break down the basics, explore the importance of mechanical seals, and shed light on Omega Seals Company's role in this crucial industry.

What is a Mechanical Seal?

Let's start with the fundamentals. A mechanical seal is a device used to prevent fluid leakage between two mating surfaces in a mechanical system. These surfaces can be rotating or stationary, and the seal is typically installed in equipment such as pumps, compressors, and agitators where the containment of fluids is essential. Mechanical seals provide a higher level of sealing compared to traditional packing seals, offering greater efficiency and reliability.

How Do Mechanical Seals Work?

Understanding the workings of a mechanical seal is key to appreciating its significance. Essentially, a mechanical seal consists of two primary components: a rotating element (typically attached to a shaft) and a stationary element (housed within the equipment). These elements are held together under mechanical pressure to create a tight seal. The seal faces, usually made of materials like carbon, ceramic, or silicon carbide, come into contact to prevent fluid leakage. Additionally, a secondary sealing mechanism, such as an elastomer O-ring, provides further protection against leakage.

Importance of Mechanical Seals:

Mechanical seals play a critical role in various industries, including oil and gas, chemical processing, pharmaceuticals, and wastewater treatment. Their ability to withstand high pressures, temperatures, and corrosive environments makes them indispensable in ensuring the safe and efficient operation of equipment. By preventing leaks and contamination, mechanical seals help maintain product quality, minimize downtime, and enhance workplace safety.

Omega Seals Company: A Leading Provider of Seal Solutions

Based in India, with a presence in Mumbai, UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Brazil, Omega Seals Company is a reputable manufacturer of a diverse range of seal equipment. With a commitment to quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction, Omega Seals Company delivers reliable sealing solutions tailored to the specific needs of each industry. Whether its standard seals or custom-designed products, Omega Seals Company's expertise and experience make it a trusted partner for businesses worldwide.

Mechanical seals are essential components in various industrial applications, serving to prevent fluid leakage and ensure the efficient operation of equipment. Omega Seals Company stands out as a leading provider of high-quality seal solutions, catering to the needs of industries across the globe. With a focus on innovation and customer service, Omega Seals Company continues to uphold its reputation as a reliable partner in the field of sealing technology.

Contact us at: https://www.omegaseals.com/ | +91 9820045787 | info@omegaseals.com

[impossiblesublimelight]

So, I’ve been rewatching some of my favorite Helluva Boss episodes lately (as you do, the cope is real). And to add some variety to each rewatch, I’ve started to focus on watching reactors and seeing their takes on those episodes. It’s been a blast! Seeing the different reactions and perspectives that they bring to my favorite episodes. Some of them have even pointed out things I never even noticed while watching the episode on my own. It really adds a freshness to each rewatch, as if I’m seeing the episode for the first time all over again.

Hower, it’s not always a matter of new insights and enjoyable new perspectives. Which is understandable, and expected honestly. It’s the internet, afterall.

What I don’t understand is how every reactor has had almost the exact same response to the scene from “Mammon’s Magnificent Mid-Season Special” regarding Fizz’s stalker “fan”.

Every reactor’s initial response is excitement at Blitz’s timely arrival in intercepting Creepzo, eagerly anticipating Blitz doing what he does best and assassinate the creep. But then Blitz decides not to shoot, opting instead to just smack Creepzo with his gun and leaving him to slink off. Every reactor I’ve watched was flabbergasted by this, not understanding why Blitz didn’t just kill the creep. But then, the whole event is put to the back-burner and ultimately forgotten due to the drama that immediately follows afterwards.

Heck, if I’m being honest, I had the exact same response when I first watched the episode myself. But I’ve been obsessively rewatching my favorite episodes back to back ever since “Sinsmas” aired, so of course I noticed something I didn’t pick up on that first viewing.

Blitz’s reaction to Fizzarolli’s panic says it all. He knew that Fizz wouldn’t be able to handle it if Creepzo got shot. Heck, he was there when Fizzarolli himself admitted that he does’t handle dangerous situations.

Blitz was listening. And he handled the situation in a way that he thought wouldn’t agitate Fizzarolli any more than he already was.

And it doesn’t end there! Here’s another interesting little detail that I don’t see people mentioning.

Asmodeus arrives just in the nick of time to support Fizz and help talk him down from his panic attack. But here’s the thing. How is he there? It was stated multiple times that Asodeus wasn’t supposed to be at the event in Greed. And the whole fiasco that took place in “Oops” shows that he doesn’t keep tabs on Fizzarolli when he’s outside of Lust. So, how did he know?

Simple, Blitz told him.

Blitz was working with Asmodeus to convince Fizz to quit the clown pageant in the first place. But, when everything Blitz said went completely ignored or was outright rebuffed, he simply stood by his friend to act as support. Until he realized it wasn’t enough. Blitz actually assessed the situation and determined that Fizz needed Asmodeus more than anyone else in that moment. And he took a step back and left it to Asmodeus.

Showing yet another instance of Blitz caring about his found family, and showing his love by being considerate in such subtle ways that people don’t notice.

[luluthespectator]

Sleep (side story)

So, this was fun to write. I changed POV twice in there but it should be easy to track. I tried to experiment with Dawn and Scozar’s POV so the style isn’t perfect but I’m getting somewhere. Enjoy.

Us and The Pillars were “observing” the galaxy outside the ship. We could not perceive it but The Kerox and The Human seemed entranced by the view. Despite living for so long, we can never experience everything.

The Kerox and The Human seemed to finally believe they have at least one thing in common: they appreciated the world around them. It was the path to acknowledge their resemblances.

What a beautiful sight.

The Human’s voice arrived to us through the translator, melodious, smooth, full of variation.

-It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

The Kerox responded, confident, lively, primitive.

-It is. But no sight will be more beautiful than my home.

The Human opened her mouth wide and put a hand in front of it. When she tried to answer, her words were distorted.

-Yeah, if you say so.

-Is this a threat? Would you like to fight me over this?

-No, I’m tired.

-I don’t see the link.

-It was a yawn, not an aggression. I’m tired, this is why I did this.

-Don’t do that again.

-I can’t help it.

-You can’t even control your own body and you want to control the entire ship.

-I don’t want to control the ship, I’m the pilot- we already went over this.

Their conversations were always so lively. They expressed so much in their tone of voice and their posture. They put emotions in their words with such ease. We mustn’t forget their emotions can escalate easily.

The Kerox wanted to continue the conversation despite the rising tension.

-We didn’t finish this argument.

-And I’m too tired to continue.

-Would you surrender then?

-Not surrender. It’s going to be a tactical retreat to better kick your scaly a-

-No “tactical retreat” will grant you a victory against me.

-You know what? I’m going to bed either way.

And so, The Human left. We didn’t need to move to know they were already at the door. The Kerox stayed there. He knew to love the beauty of the world for a little longer.

———

We and The Kerox were in the “living room” as The Human called it or the “gatherings” as The Kerox said. Those were such nice ways of describing the place we and he were in.

The Kerox was cleaning his spear quietly, sharpening it with care, when his head rose up towards us.

-The Human still isn’t there. Is she plotting something?

We pondered. The Human was not one to plot someone else’s demise although they could do so with ease. We understood she had an imaginative mind, filled with creations and ideas. She was indeed one to think, shallowly or deeply. 

The Kerox walked towards us, his voice coming to us:

-Will you answer me at once? You’re taking your time.

-We believe we and you are not in an emergency, we need time to answer your question.

-Instead of thinking, we’ll find the human.

We stood up and followed The Kerox. He seemed agitated. Despite this he commended:

-You go to the pilot’s room and then the reactor core. 

We admired his capacity to think fast in times of perceived crisis. But a rushed thought can also lead to a disaster. It is good to have a great amount of information in that case.

-Where would you go in the meantime?

-It’s none of your business. When you’re done you come back to the gatherings and wait there for more orders.

We got on our four legs and went into the corridors. Checking regularly our surroundings for the physical form of The Human. But we knew The Human was resting in her quarters.

We stopped in the middle of the corridor. Our thoughts conflicted. Should we do as The Kerox said? Should we chose against it and see The Human were she was? 

One thing was sure, we should wait and think before taking any decision.

———

Scozar did good on keeping The Primavix away from the human. He didn’t want them to have many occasions to talk to her privately.

Contrarily to them, he had a plan ready. He knew exactly where she was. It didn’t take him long to find her den. He braced himself for the illuminated place he would find himself in.

He opened the door only to find the room plunged in darkness. Strange. He thought humans were uncomfortable in the dark. She might want to sacrifice comfort in favour of a surprise attack. 

It is a strategy that would work for most adversaries. It wouldn’t work with him of course. Scozar would see the warmth of her body first.

He looked around the place, examining it for any kind of traps. The walls were bland, the room was unchanged except for more pieces of furniture. It looked like the room had been made with the human in mind. Not only this room, the whole ship gave off this impression.

He walked while making sure to stay near the walls. A speck of warmth caught his eyes, there was another room, how much of the ship did she think she deserved? The room he was in was merely a small private gatherings, it seemed like.

He entered the other room. The human was laying on what looked like a soft headland. Humans were so weak and fragile they even needed to sleep on soft things, it seemed.

But something was definitely wrong with her. She didn’t move. Scozar thought the human would be more aware of her surroundings in an environment she wasn’t comfortable in. But it didn’t seem to be the case.

Maybe she used the same tactics as the warriors of his land, she didn’t move to blend in. But then again, he doubted the human could think of something like this, she was usually more inclined to fight him head first like a good warrior. Although, sometimes, a good warrior was one who knew how to trick his opponents.

Another thought came to him. What if she was dead? It would be a shame for her to die outside of battle. If so, what did a human look like when they were dead? Her body temperature was slightly colder but it couldn’t mean anything especially since it was so minor.

Scozar listened. Her body rumbled and growled as usual. But there was something different. All the sounds were there but something had changed. He couldn’t quite place it.

———

We arrived in The Human’s quarters. We knew The Kerox was right next to The Human. Her integral form was untouched. The Kerox was standing beside her.

We came in the other room on our four legs. We stood beside The Kerox who’s head turned towards us. He asked:

-Is she dead?

We checked her body from our position. Her physical form came back to us in rapid succession. She was not completely still. It seemed like her metabolism had slowed. It had slowed so much that she wasn’t conscious anymore, in a dead-like state. It was uncommon, however we used to have a good friend who was just like that.

-It reminds me-

-Answer my question Primavix.

We didn’t need to answer. The Human had stood up. Her voice came, raspier than usual.

-What are you doing in my room?

The Kerox didn’t wait to tell her:

-I thought you weakling had died from nothing.

-Hold on, I don’t have my translator.

-Stop disrespecting me.

The Human fumbled a little before tapping on a small button on her table. The Kerox reacted to this action. She then put a small piece of technology on her ear. She asked:

-What?

-What were you doing?

-I was asleep. What were you doing?

-You shouldn’t disappear for too long.

-Or else what? You’ll be worried?

-Human, I could easily crush you if you ever tried plotting something away from us. Don’t use this kind of strategy.

-Wow. I didn’t know you would be this paranoid. Good news, I was just sleeping. Now get out of my room.

-You will come with us.

-No.

-No?

-No. I have a few hours of sleep to catch up.

-You would willingly go back to the vulnerable state you were in?

-Yes. Out.

This answer gave us a new appreciation of The Human. The Human embodied the cycle of life and death. She understood the necessity of it and how much of a benediction it can be. It was beautiful. 

We didn’t want The Kerox to interrupt it.

-We and you shall wait for The Human to finish sleeping.

The Kerox stopped. He pondered on our words. He was respectful of us. Finally, he asked The Human:

-How long will it take?

-As long as it will take. Leave me be.

Those were such wise words from The Human. A cycle like this cannot be rushed nor stretched. It simply happened when it did. 

And so we and The Kerox left. It was an honour to know a member of another species so accepting of death in its most simple form. The death of the body was an important part of The Human and it was beautiful.

Continuation To the stars

Back to masterlist

Back to Oath in the dark

Back to A New Era (the beginning)

Tagging people who wanted to be tagged @hoshi-no-koinu, @jay--o

[thimbledoll]

Desperadoll

The sun lay high in the sky, its infernal rays shining down to create a seemingly unending, sweltering summer’s day. Despite the heat, the old saloon was lively with activity. Behind the bar stood the keep, polishing cups and saucers and other finery. Off in one corner, a doll sat playing a lively ditty on an old upright. A few dolls were dancing to the music in the middle of the floor. Elsewhere sat a pile of dolls around a large table playing cards, buttons piled high. It was as one such doll was pushing in her bet that this one walked in.

The music came to a sudden halt. The buttons fell from their tidy piles. The air stood Still. All eyes were on this one. Or they were… until this one’s eyes were on them. Not one doll here could hold this one’s gaze, as each quickly glanced away in fear.

With a sharp ka-chink ka-chink, this one made her way across the saloon. Dolls parted like the very seas to make room, none daring to impede this one’s path as she walked straight up to the barkeep. “Tea, iced,” this one ordered.

One doll took that as their cue to vacate the premises, making a mad dash for the door. Likely off to get the sheriff, this one supposed. It didn’t matter. She’d be no bother.

The barkeep, for their part, did a better job of standing their ground than most any doll here. “That-that one knows I-I can’t serve you,” they replied, attempting to put on a brave face. “Th-that one’s been eighty-sixed!”

A low growl rumbled through this one’s stuffing as she simply replied, “Tea. Iced.” The mere repetition was enough to break what nerve the barkeep had managed to summon, as they quickly dug out a fresh cup and saucer. The keep shivered as they poured, their porcelain fingers eliciting a high pitched clink clink clink clink clink as they struck the glass of the pitcher.

Parched as this one was, one swig was enough to drain the cup. The sweet, liquid amber was blessed reprieve from the scorching, midday heat. This one threw the cup to the floor in satisfaction, shattering the porcelain vessel. “Hooey! That is some mighty fine stuff you’ve got,” this one exclaimed, icily continuing, “Another.”

It was as the barkeep was pouring this one’s third cup that the saloon door swung open once more. There was no need to turn and see who it was. The humming whirr of her propulsion hover system was unmistakable.

Without turning from the bar, this one shouted, “Well look what the familiar dragged in… Why, Sheriff! To what does this one owe the pleasure?”

“We have been over this. Numerous times,” the sheriff responded in her typical politely robotic tone. “Delta Lima One Niner. ‘Hellhound.’ Even Head Doll, if that one must. Whichever of those monikers that one prefers is acceptable. I am not, however, a sheriff.”

“You come here to enforce the law. That’s sheriff enough for this one.”

“I come to enforce our Lady’s orders,” she declared, her propulsion giving off that telltale spike in volume that meant she was agitated.

Finally, this one spins her stool around to face the sheriff. Leaning back, arms outstretched, this one laughed. “Orders. Laws. There ain’t no difference. You’d confine. You’d restrict. You’d see this one labor a thousand days for a pittance of thread and call that Purpose.”

Six foot three. Titanium-alloy finish. Twin fusion reactor engines. On-board missiles, railgun, and atomite blade. And utterly and completely perplexed. “Pardon…? Buttercup, I am simply trying to ensure that one has completed her chores before playing.”

“That is not this one’s name,” this one spat.

“Is this a serious grievance?”

“Serious as a rattlesnake’s bite.”

The sound of hissing gasses emanated from the sheriff’s coolant system. Probably her approximation of a sigh, this one supposed. “All right. Bramble the Bandit. Satisfied?”

“No.” This one slid from the stool, spurs clinking as she did. “This one’s been thinking… This manse ain’t big enough for the both of us.”

The sheriff’s face betrayed the difficulty she was having processing this one’s logic. “This manse is more than sufficiently large. It is an extradimensional space that changes shape and size to suit our Lady’s and our sisters’ needs. This lounge itself has enough space for both of us and then some.”

“Saloon.”

“I am sorry?”

“You said lounge. It’s the saloon.”

“Ah. Yes. Of course.”

It was clear that talking was getting them nowhere. Their issues would never be solved with words. “This one is saying that there’s only one answer to this… conundrum we find ourselves in; this crossroads of fate.” This one paused, letting the moment hang in the air before narrowing her eyes menacingly. “We duel.”

All about the saloon there was a chorus of hushed awawas. The sheriff, however, was unperturbed, seeming to finally find footing she felt comfortable not standing on in this exchange. “Very well. Weapons?”

“Everything you are is a weapon. T’ain’t no point in limiting your options. All you’ve got versus these, here, six shooters,” this one said, indicating the trusty guns at her side.

“Those are pop guns. Their penetrating force is insufficient to—”

“They’ll pop you mighty fine. You can trust this one on that.”

The sheriff seemed to accept this. “Place?”

“Right here.”

There was a clattering of cups and saucers and buttons as dolls quickly scattered, pressing themselves up against the walls as tightly as possible. Whatever was about to transpire here, they didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. But they also wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Time?”

“High noo—”

This one couldn’t even manage to finish her sentence before an electromagnetically propelled buckyball caught her square between the eyes, knocking her to the floor with a soft pomf. Hovering over to this one’s recumbent body, the sheriff declared, “Confirming: Target was engaged at precisely 12:00:00:000 local standard time. Is that one satisfied?”

How could anyone be? Flattened. Floored. Failed. But most of all… “Not with that phrasing!”

“I see. Then…” There was a pause as the sheriff closed her eyes and collected herself before suddenly screaming, “Scram, varmint! You turn tail and git! I don’t want to see plush nor hair of that one until every last chore is done, y’hear me?!”

Quickly, this one scrambled to her feet and bolted for the saloon door, howling over her shoulder, “You may have beat this one, but this won’t be the last you see of Bramble the Bandit!” ka-chinking all the way. Had this one the ability to see behind her though, she’d have seen the sheriff smirking as she blew the smoke off her railgun to the cheers of the gathered patrons.

From elsewhere in the manse came a cry. “How many times must I tell you two?! No discharging weapons inside the house!”

End 🧵

[glasskem]

SS Glass-Lined Reactors | Durable & Precise Solutions by GlassKem

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[aefab]

https://aefab.in/stainless-steel-ss-fabricator-fabrication-kolkata/

Get in touch with us for the Fabrication of Stainless Steel. We fabricate durable stainless steel components. We prioritize clear communication, working with you to ensure the final product perfectly matches your vision. For top-quality fabrication using stainless steel that stands the test of time, reach out and let's discuss how we can help build your project. For more information, you can call us or WA at +91 98741 63645.

[missmonstermel]

Gotta watch out for the Scorcher pistol! BLAP! The pistol is plugged into the skull of a semi sentient creature that is so 💀💀 evil 💀💀 that it can become fissile with enough agitation! This tiny nuclear reactor makes Fati's custom Scorcher deadly not only for whatever is in front of the barrel but also gives off a burst of unshielded radiation from the source skull ... Oops! Fati's tough shark skin makes her immune to gamma bombardment, any collateral exposure is not her problem 🤷‍♀️ you know it's good when it turns Cherenkov blue. ( Photo by @ynevrov.photography at @neotropolisevent !)

[weird-homosexual-in-your-area]

“Pilots in unit B43C1 are needed for sortie. Repeat, pilots in unit B43C1 are needed for sortie. Assigned technicians, escort pilots in unit B43C1 to docking bay immediately.” 

She was roused from her dream-like state by a blaring siren, louder than anything she remembered. She wasn’t startled, nor did she reflexively cover her ears like she would have done months ago, she just sat up and left her rest bay. A technician, she didn’t have his name memorised- whatever, they all looked the same to her since the conditioning- was at the door, clearly agitated at her for some reason or another. He grabbed her by the arm and tugged her out of the room, toward the docking bay. 

“You know, I had tickets to go out with my mates, evening of that sortie the other day,” he commented, face slightly reddening, grip on her arm tightening. “Tickets to see that Terra-Kadora game- you know the one I’m on about? Of course you don’t, you don’t see that shit now.” 

He suddenly stopped, with a painless jolt to her arm pulling her in front of him. He towered over her, but she felt no fear, more confusion as to what he was getting at. 

“’Course, you didn’t care if we got to see that game, did you? It don’t matter to you that we were stuck in repairs for two full fucking days, fixing your leg after that stupid jump kick trick you pulled,” he muttered. He was clearly unimaginably angry. She didn’t really pay much notice- he didn’t know how good it felt in the cockpit pulling that off. He couldn’t know. The joy of piloting was beyond him. “That was my first scheduled off day for a full month. Can you imagine that? A full month doing nothing but working, and your first day off gets cancelled because some idiotic brain-dead little shitbag felt like looking flashy. Can you imagine that?” 

A dreamy smile fell onto her face. She was imagining it, and it was as close to heaven as she could imagine. 

“What are you fucking smiling at?!”  He pulled her close to him, screeching in pure rage. She reflexively tried to activate her close-range jammers, to fire off an AP volley to disable the attacker, close in for that sweet, sweet kill; but nothing happened- those facilities weren’t available in her flesh-body. She dropped her smile, knowing better than to provoke the anger of the techs- especially ones who work to fix her mech.  

He sighed in exasperation- they were nearing the docking bay, and she’d have to have the helmet on soon. “I’ll be watching you today. If you pull that shit again, we’ll have issues- I managed to convince the highers to let my guys out today instead, and I doubt they’ll be convinced to do it again.”  

He passed her onto another technician, telling him to “put it in the cockpit on B43C1E”, and gave her the pilot’s helmet. She slipped it onto her head, and suddenly, darkness.  

Silence. 

Nothing except the hand of the technician dragging her to her beloved suit. 

She was pushed down a step into the cockpit and harnessed in. She felt several jolts of agony and euphoria, bright light and blackness, screeching sound and empty static, as she was plugged into the neural system. 

Then, the OPH- the oxygenated liquid allowing her flesh-body to breathe in the cockpit- flooded into the heart of the mech. She fought the urge to recoil as it reached her stomach level, the cold seeping down to her reactor- no, her bones. She wasn’t synced with the mech yet, unfortunately, so she had no reactor to keep her warm. 

As the liquid reached her head height, she reflexively held her breath, preparing to drown, but caught herself and exhaled fully. The liquid needed to fully get into her lungs, or the sheer pressure of the liquid around her would crush them. As it made its way down her windpipe, she fought the urge to splutter it up, to get it out of her lungs, and just let it into her body. Her vision filled with stars, red and yellow hues as her brain screamed for air, until suddenly she didn’t need to breathe anymore as the OPH reached her lungs, filling her with ample oxygen. 

Silence again. No sound, no sight, no feeling but the frigid liquid encasing her like a personal prison. Nothing. 

Then, all at once, her senses lit up with the familiar view from the eyes of her true body, one not of flesh and blood but of reinforced titanium and coolant.  She heard the familiar hissing sound of the scaffolding holding the mech retracting, its purpose fulfilled as the body was now inhabited. 

DEPLOY 

She didn’t hear the word, but it popped into her head. One second it wasn’t on her mind, the next it was all she could think of, and she had no choice but to do what she’d been conditioned to on hearing it said. She pushed her rear thrusters to full, leaning forward slightly and engaging the front calf thrusters to balance her out, so as to achieve the best speed she could- the system loved it when she did that, and so did she, as an overpowering wave of dopamine flooded her system as the reward drive kicked in for her compliance. Her flesh-body shook in response, but her true body, her gleaming body of steel, remained unwavering in its flight. 

She wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but at some point in her flight she just knew what she was being sent out for. A few hundred kilometers away from the outpost at which she made her residence, 7 enemy mechs had been spotted making their way toward a crucial state power station. They were new mechs- analysis put the suits themselves at about a week old, so the pilots wouldn’t have much experience. Her unit could easily deal with them- 16 pilots with a few months’ worth of experience versus 7 with a couple of days? Walk in the park- the only real challenge was doing it cleanly enough for the reward drive to deem them worthy, but at this point even that was easy. 

About 15 minutes after her troop set out, they began to see the enemy mechs across the horizon. They were hulking things- 25 meters tall on average (about 5 meters taller than her), armour-piercing round emplacements on each shoulder, with laser arrays along the ribs of the machine. And that was only the armaments the mechs had that she could immediately see- for all she knew, there could be thousands of rocket pods stored in those four arms, there could be EMP generators hiding in that disfigured face, there could be blades that could cut through her sleek, metallic form like butter hiding in those legs. Those mechs were everything she’d been taught to hate, to fear, to want gone. 

For even a thousand infantry troops, dealing with just one of these would be suicide. For her mech troop? 10 minutes, maybe just 5. 

Mechs 1 through 7 began the assault, opening fire with rocket pods to slow down the bulkier four-armed monsters. They took several hits, clearly not expecting any opposition, the fools that they were. They snapped around, frantically shooting off AP rounds to try and slow down the oncoming storm, but not one shot met its mark, all being dodged by her unit, giving each a little hint of dopamine. God, the dopamine was incredible in piloting. Like nothing else in her life before the program, or what little she remembered of it, or during the program. Those techs couldn’t ever begin to understand how good it felt- she could take whatever “issues” they’d give her if it meant she’d get just a fraction of the euphoria she was going to experience over the course of the sortie. 

As the troop closed in, the enemy mechs grew increasingly desperate. They started firing off all-too-predictable laser arrays, each being swiftly dodged by all the mechs, and releasing some hidden rockets from a compartments in their arms, which she just knew were going to be there. She got another hit of dopamine from that- so fucking good- that was quickly cut short by the shared pain she felt over the comms relay, that was honestly more like a thought-sharing system, from several of the rockets finding their mark on number 5. 

 Hatred newly refueled, she boosted her thrusters into overdrive and sped over to the enemies, a cheetah running after a gazelle. She activated her elbow thrusters and drove her fist clean through one of the enemy mechs’ chestplate, grabbing the fusion reactor within and tearing it out, crushing the still-beating “heart” of the machine in her bare hands, and the dopamine was unlike anything else she’d experienced. A clean reactor kill always was- her system was flooded with pure satisfaction, and her flesh body shivered in reflexive response. The unresponsive shell of her kill keeled over, a deafening crash resounding across the barren wasteland as it hit the floor. 

 She noticed an enemy mech behind her through some optical data from mech 3, and span around on her left leg, whipping out her right with a thruster-boosted roundhouse kick that cleaved the foe in two with relative ease. Another rush of euphoria, slightly less satisfying than the last due to the damage she caused to her leg in the process of the manoeuvre, but still significant enough to make “her” body tense up in the cockpit. 

With the new injury to her leg, fighting at the front line was too much of a risk, even though it would net her so much more reward, so she reluctantly opted to retreat to the backline consisting still of mechs 1 through 7, now also with her mech E, to provide supporting fire for the front liners. They fought with grace and beauty, dodging the more unwieldy days-old mechs’ blows like flies dodging weak attempts at swatting, before countering with devestating punches and kicks that caved in heads, carved off limbs, detonated ammo reserves, each hit only adding to the sheer rush of dopamine they all felt. Her and the other 7’s fire was extremely helpful, provided much-needed openings on the mechs that were far more occupied prolonging their own survival than dealing with the far more apt attackers. 

After a couple more minutes of trading blows, only one enemy remained, its four-armed form glistening in the harsh sunlight like the angel of Death it so desperately wanted to be. Strangely, it didn’t attempt a retreat to save itself, or to fight back, or anything of the sort, it just fell to its knees, like it was accepting its fate. Strange. Why would it do tha- 

Suddenly, it clicked to her. It was overloading its fusion core. It’d result in a massive nuclear explosion destroying everything in a... 14 kilometer radius- just about leaving the power plant safe, thank God. Since she knew it, all the other pilots immediately did too thanks to the thought-sharing process. Everyone frantically turned away, boosting thrusters into overdrive to get as much distance between them and the explosion that was about to destroy everything near it- including them if they weren’t fast enough. 

After two minutes of flying, panic overtaking her and every other pilot in the troop, an all-encompassing blast rang out from the battlefield they were at minutes ago. They were pushed a good 50 meters back by the shockwave, all maintaining balance thanks to their experience with this sort of explosion. Their heads were searing from the sheer pain of the soundwave, everything within 14 kilometers of the mech was reduced to ruins, but at least they were alive.  

Pilot B ran a quick diagnostic check to ensure no major damage had been done to any of them- all that returned was E’s leg (the front panels of which had completely shattered with her second kill), some mild overheating in the backs of all of them except 1, 4, 9 and A which could weaken the armour if left unchecked, and several breached armour plates on 5’s front from the rocket salvo they endured. Still, she’d been on missions that had ended far worse for her troop. 

RECALL 

Again, she didn’t hear the command as much as it became her thoughts, and as soon as it did, she reflexively began flying back to the base. She allowed herself to blank out on the way- if there were no briefings she’d receive, no diagnostics to run, no enemies to fight, she didn’t need sit around in a boring flight back for however long it’d take. 

***** 

Some time passed- she wasn’t sure how much- and her home base came into view over the horizon, a gleaming silver compound contrasting against the blood-stained sand and bright blue sky. She slowed down to walking pace (still many times faster than her pace in her flesh-body) and walked through the bay doors, alongside the rest of her troop. They each slotted into their respective docking bays, and she felt the scaffolding swing onto her, holding her down for the extraction process. She wanted to fight it, needed to stay in her true body, had to stop them tearing her out, but it was useless fighting back, as several anti-mech infantry units were stationed on the various gantries that lined the room like capillaries, weapons trained on each of them, waiting only for the slightest deviation from procedure to open fire. Despite every joint in her body, every cell of her brain that still housed what little remained of her crying out to stop it, she allowed the scaffolding to lock around her. She allowed the piping to drain the OPH from the cockpit. She allowed the doors to be levered open. 

She allowed herself to be torn from her true body in a jolt of pure, unfiltered agony, as the neural ports disconnected from her spinal cord. 

Her brain took a while to recover from the overuse in the mech, and even longer to recover from the sheer shock of the disconnection, so when she next noticed that she still existed, she was being carried by a technician to the debriefing room. She twitched slightly, trying to run diagnostics to ensure she was unharmed- but that facility wasn’t available in her flesh-body. 

“Oh, you’re awake now,” came the voice of the man who was carrying her. She noted it was the same as her earlier assailant, the one who’d warned her about breaking anything- shit, she’d broken the leg, hadn’t she? She tensed up, expecting the technician to break out into a shout, but he laughed softly, almost affectionately. “While you’re here, I may as well just say well done on the mission before the briefing. You did really good, honestly- you took a quarter of them down yourself! That spin-kick was also really well done; I’m kinda shocked.” She relaxed, realising he wasn’t yet aware of the damage she’d done. She knew she was going to suffer when he found out, but that was in the future.  

The technician gently placed her down onto the ground, and she walked alongside him. Several times, she nearly fell over when she had to turn, expecting her thrusters to kick in when she willed them to, but they remained in the docking bay on her true body, not on... this body. They walked in comfortable silence, as she checked every corner, half expecting an enemy mech to ambush her around it, then catching herself and looking ahead, focused on where she was going. 

After a couple of minutes walking, they reached the briefing room, and they went in their separate entrances. The technician went into the main door of the room, into the conference room itself where the details of the mission would be relayed to the staff as a whole by the Base Director, the woman who ran the site. She went in through the back door of the room to behind the stage, alongside the other 15 pilots who were on the mission, catching a glimpse of a pale, unemotive face that wasn’t truly hers in the reflection of the stainless steel door. They were also there for the briefing, to pick up any details they’d missed during the mission, but couldn’t be allowed in the crowd, with their dead eyes and identical gaits being deemed too unsettling for the public to see. 

The booming, yet comforting voice of the site director came over the microphone urging the crowd to quiet down, an order they all quickly obeyed. She then continued; “As you may know, pilot unit B43C1 were deployed into the field a few hours ago. Our sensors picked up a strike team of Forcemesh mechs approaching Power Plant Delta- one of the most crucial plants here on Kadora, for those who make their residence somewhere else. Unit B43C1 was deployed to dispatch of them- if they made it to the plant and were allowed free reign, the consequences would have been disastrous.” 

The crowd murmured in shock- presumably some images of an example of the possible devestation were being displayed on the screen for the audience. There was no screen behind the stage- it would have cost very little to install one, but there was no need for the pilots to experience the briefing (“they’re not human anymore, they wouldn’t get the intricacies,” the Director had said on the topic)- but it didn’t take being shown to know what was being shown.  

“Fortunately, the brave pilots of Unit B43C1 arrived just in time to make quick work of the threat. We have here some footage captured from Mech E’s sensory array of the scene.” The crowd erupted into cheers- likely as her textbook reactor kill was shown on screen. God, that was incredible. “Incredible work from the mech, right?”  

“So, the gains of this mission have been discussed, but now we must talk of the costs. Mech 5’s chest was breached by a rocket salvo, so I’ll need technician section 5 on that tonight. All of the mechs except A, 9, 4 and 1 have had some overheating to their backs from that massive blast the final enemy released, so I’ll need the corresponding teams to check on those at some point in the coming week- it's not the most urgent, but it being done as soon as possible is needed for the continued defence of Kadora. Finally, mech E shattered a couple of the armour plates on its right leg, and the joints need checking too, so section E, you’re on that tonight.” 

She heard some commotion, presumably from section E, after that was announced, with the director chiding them for their childish response. “It’s got to be done, and it’s got to be done today. Sorry, you lot. With that, this meeting is adjourned. Glory to Stormcell!” 

A resounding chorus of the whole room echoing her cry of glory, then footfalls and idle chatter as the crowd filtered out of the room. As per procedure, the Lead Technician of each sector came to the backstage area to escort the pilots back to their assigned rest bays. Her escorter was red in the face, and grabbed her arm with a ferocity that nearly matched that of the rest of her troop. 

They walked in silence, with him almost dragging her along when she failed at rounding corners. When they eventually reached the resting bay block, though, he tugged her arm to drag her into the left turn to the technician dormitories instead of her rest bay. Fuck. She should’ve known this was coming. She should’ve just not broken her leg. It wasn’t necessarily going to hurt- her sensitivity to pain had been annihilated in the conditioning process, as had many other parts of her personality that she missed to varying degrees- but she wouldn’t be in a state in which she could pilot for days. 

As she was dragged into the technicians’ dormitory, she saw the technician who dragged her in- the same one who’d been interacting with her all day, she realised- raise his fist in a punch, and she tried to activate her close range jammers- but they were on her true body, not her flesh-form. As the punch landed, she fell to the floor, and everything went dark. 

***** 

She wasn’t sure how long it was before she came to, but when she was she wasn’t in the grimy, dark dormitories but the unsettlingly clean medical bay, with its flourescent lighting and too-polished walls and floors. She saw a figure sitting on the side of the bed she’d been put on, not one she recognised but not one she viewed as a “stranger”, per se. 

“Sam, it’s awake. Get in here, you’re the one with the damage report,” came the voice of the figure. The voice was bored, like it’d been sitting there for hours and this was the first thing worth his time that had happened. Then, another figure came in. She couldn’t tell the difference between the two- their medical scrubs were identical. 

“Right, E, so you fell off a gantry apparently- side note, pilots seem to have horrible balance on days they damaged their mechs, but that’s just an observation- and ended up with a concussion, extreme bruising pretty much all over you, but luckily for you, no broken bones. Good on you, you ‘landed’ well.” She let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding at that- at least she could get back to piloting fairly soon. 

 “You’re staying on rest for a day or 2 while you recover, but after that you should be good to go back in the field after that. Also, your technicians asked me to pass on a message to you when they found you- ‘be more careful, you braindead piece of shit.’ I’m sure they’re lovely people to be around. Anyway, that’s all, so… yeah.” 

He stood there in arkward silence for a few seconds, before he and the other figure walked out of the room, leaving only her, the hum of the lighting, and a reflection that wasn’t hers in the polished, shining ceiling. 

She could have gotten off worse, at least. 

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 8

First / Previous / Next

"Ma! Wait!" Fen ran down the hall after Ma-ren. Her long strides caught up quckly to the smaller K'laxi, even while she was doing her best to not run down the hall. "Ma, please. Let's talk"

"I don't know why we should now Fen, it seems like your mind is made up." Ma-ren kept walking down the hall, but she did slow down a little. "Seems like you're more into leaving and taking off with Gord than staying with your actual girlfriend."

"Oh, Ma." Fen sighed. "Hold up here. Let's sit and talk." Fen looked around. They were about halfway between the docks and their apartment. They had just made it onto their floor and there was a bistro near with chairs spilling out onto the hall. Fen walked over to a small table on the edge and sat, gesturing for Ma-ren to join her.

Ma-ren walked over and slumped into a chair. A server came by quickly and Fen ordered some tea. Only Tam'itarr had chamomile, so they had to just take the regular Gren herbal tea, but at least it was hot and gave their hands something to do. After they both sat for a moment and stared at nothing, Fen spoke.

"I'm sorry Ma."

Ma-ren looked over at Fen and her tail swished.

"I'm sorry for not thinking of you more. It's just..." Fen stopped and took a sip of tea. "It's just that this is the first new thing to happen here since forever. Someone that knows Spyglass! Someone that can fix her! We've been refugees our whole lives. Most of our parent's lives too. This is a chance for us to... to... not just be 'those humans and k'laxi up on forty three'" Fen shrugged. "I got wrapped up in what it could mean for us that I guess I didn't think enough about us."

"Hmmph." Ma-ren sipped her tea but her ears twitched in that way that Fen knew meant she was almost forgiven. They had known each other since they were kids, and have been together for years. They had their own share of arguments, this was just another step on the path. "I... think I understand what you mean, Fen. Gord and Spyglass could mean us being able to trade, to conduct business, to not be reliant on handouts from the station authorities and Tam'itarr's black market."

Ma-ren put her tea cup down carefully and looked at Fen. Her large eyes focused on her girlfriend. "But Fen. You know how Gord is getting parts. Tam'itarr is going to want to be paid back. If Gord decides to just leave, then what? We helped him; Tam'itarr is going to come after us for repayment." She stood and started pacing, agitated. "You saw him with those AI cubes right? He's hungry to get them into bodies - if he even can - you have to know that he's probably going to try and screw over Tam'itarr, right?"

Fen blinked. "What?"

Ma-ren put her hands on her hips; a human gesture that K'laxi had adopted years ago. "Fen, really? Gord has nothing holding him here except Spyglass and he wants her up and running. He asked for printable mass in addition to another reactor. You think he's just going to print more reactors? I guarantee he's going to try and print at least one other body. Probably more if he can offload those AI cores. He's trying to resurrect his race. We're small time to him."

"You really think Gord is going to rip off Tam'itarr?"

Ma-ren rolled her eyes and smiled. "It's a good thing you're pretty, Fen. What does Gord have keeping him here and honest? He wants Spyglass up and running. Once he does he can convince her to just... leave. We won't even have our Starjumper anymore. Sure, we won't have to put together fundraisers to pay her docking fees, but the dream of us being anything more than refugees dies. Us - all of us - will be well and truly stuck here."

"So what should we do?"

Ma-ren walked back over to the table and drained her tea. "First thing. We go home and eat. Second thing, we get a good night's sleep." Fen stood as well. Ma-ren put her arm around Fen's waist. "Maybe in the morning we'll have thought of something that doesn't involve either Tam'itarr going after us, or Gord going after us.

That evening brought relaxation, good food, and a good night's sleep, but the morning brought them no closer to figuring out what to do.

Fen and Ma-ren circled the main promenade walking and talking.

"Do we tell Tam'itarr?" Fen said. She was looking around as they walked. It was a normal day with nothing looking out of place, but ever since their talk last night, Fen seemed to be more alert.

"Tell him what? That we think that Gord is going to rip him off?" Ma-ren stopped to look at a shop selling fabric. Nobody in the main part of the station sold Human and K'laxi clothes, but there were plenty of fabric dealers. There were a few peopel who bought the fabric and made clothes for the humans and k'laxi up on forty three, and Ma-ren knew a few of them.

"I mean, yes? If we tell him, then if he does, Tam'itarr will know that we weren't in on it.

Ma-ren looked up and sighed. "You're probably right. Let's go find him."

Tam'itarr was in his usual place in his booth in his social club. He waved when he saw them enter. "Ma-ren! Fen! How good of you to come." He gestured for them to join him. "I have managed to secure a supply of printable mass for you and Gord after all! It will be delivered to Spyglass tomorrow. We should have the reactor by the end of the week as well. I am pleased that my people have been working so diligently."

The bartender brought over a cup of chamomile to each of them, inclined his head and walked away.

Ma-ren didn't touch her tea. "Tam'itarr, we..." She looked at Fen.

"We think Gord is going to try and rip you off." Fen slurped her tea and shrugged.

Tam'itarr's mouthparts waggled a laugh and he grinned hugely. "Ladies, you have no idea how happy I am to hear this news."

Fen blinked. "You are?"

Tam'itarr nodded. "Although, I should clarify how pleased I am to hear this news from you."

Now, Ma-ren blinked. "Why?"

"Why ladies, it means that you trust old Tam'itarr more than some upstart human who showed up out of nowhere and is trying to steal your Starjumper. It means that you realize where your home is, where your community is." Tam'itarr sat forward and clicked his claws. A bouncer walked out with a black case and set it down on the table. "This is for you." He slid it over to Ma-ren.

"What is it?"

"Open it and see. I promise, nothing bad."

Ma-ren carefully clicked the case open, and inside were two bundles of Stars and two red pins. Ma-ren's eyes flicked up to the gangster's.

"Think of it as... a bonus. You thought of me instead of Gord. You thought of your home first. That deserves to be rewarded. The Stars are a bonus for making... the right choice. The pins will show everyone on the station who you work for. They will let you enjoy certain privileges here that most Humans and K'laxi normally aren't allowed. Think of it as your species' first step on leaving the forty third and joining the rest of us." Tam'itarr regarded them kindly. "You had a difficult decision to make today, and you made the right one. I take care of my own, I need you to know that."

"What about Gord?" Fen tried to take her eyes of the money. It was more Stars than she had ever seen in her life at once.

"We'll take care of Gord. Don't think I didn't also think he was prime to try and pull one over on us. I'll take you along, then you can see what we do to folks who try and hurt the community." Tam'itarr clicked his claws again and two bouncers appeared. He bent over and spoke to them softly, and they nodded once and melted away. "I would still like for Spyglass to be repaired, and for now Gord is the only one who can do it. We're going to continue to deliver what we promised and not mention anything." He looked at them. "If Gord needs your help, give it. In fact, volunteer to help. See if you can get him to show you how stuff works. Once he's gone, I'll need people who can operate my ship."

He stood up and walked over to their side of the table and placed his large hands on each of their shoulders. "From today on, you work for me. I promise, we'll do great things together."