#repair and maintenance pod

[sw5w]

Watto's Junkyard

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:33:41

Here is a behind the scenes view of Jake Lloyd as Anakin with the unidentified WEL-series welding droid seen above.

And here’s a photo from page 57 of the Secret Life of Droids, showing what looks like the darker WEL-1708 droid in the lighter colored welding droid’s location in Watto’s Junkyard. WEL-1708 appears in a later scene outside the front entrance to Watto's Junkshop with R2-T0.

[sergeantgoggles]

(ok just one more. i really love them all) kiss prompt: 💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft dealer's choice <3

I chose the CSP-born quatrefoil, but in the actual Star Wars verse and not in an AU. Dealer's Choice: Hunter/Tech/Echo/Fives

Fives/Echo

Echo sighs, takes a sip of caffe, reads the Imperial reports again. Comm chatter is going insane over the stolen intel they took from Dantooine. Really, what business did they have all the way out there? Not that it matters now. They had found the resistance’s best kept secret.

Soft footfalls catch his ears, timid, nervous, and Echo frowns. He doesn’t blame them because he’s nervous, too. It’s been a long time, and in the interim Echo had moved on, had found himself a third in the relationship between Clone Force 99’s squad leader and pilot, and it’s been good, even if they’ve parted ways for now.

Finally, Fives comes into view, his own caffe in hand, quietly sits beside him, and sighs. His presence is nice, familiar, and it’s so easy to fall back into old routines, to lean his head on Fives’s shoulder and just listen to him breathe, but there’s a lot to discuss.

“We should talk,” he says, and feels Fives hum in agreement. “I’m seeing someone else, two someones, actually.”

Fives barks a laugh, startling them both, then clears his throat. “I’m…not surprised. There was someone, after you, before I had to drop off the grid. Can’t be mad at you for moving on when you thought I was dead when I did the same thing, you know?”

There’s a beat of silence, then, “Does that mean you can’t love me anymore?”

Echo picks his head up, looks Fives in the eyes, frowns. “I have to talk about it with them, but I’ll always love you, Fives. I never stopped.”

Their eyes meet, and Echo knows that they’re going to kiss, and it’s going to seal his fate. If he has to choose, he’ll choose Fives every time. As soon as their lips connect, Echo knows he’s damned. Fives tastes exactly how he remembers, feels as warm and invigorating as the sun on a tropical beach, and he makes a mental note to tell him all about the island with the giant crabs and the mission that Wrecker botched by waking the pod.

“I want to meet them,” Fives says softly, “if for no other reason than to thank them for taking care of you.”

Echo smiles into his lips and melts. An idea starts to form.

.

Hunter/Tech

“You’re awfully moody today,” Hunter comments with a frown as Tech works around him. He can’t quite figure out what Tech is working on, though, because the ship-wide diagnostic didn’t yield any results, and Tech hadn’t been adamant about the little maintenance things until a few days ago. Suddenly it was all he could focus on. It was…unnerving.

“Are you listening to me?” He ventures again.

Tech scoffs. “Unless you have intel about another mission, please refrain from speaking to me. I have a long list of repairs and upgrades that are not going to make themselves.”

Stormy eyes widen as Hunter frowns. “Hey, don’t make me pull rank with you. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

“Well, if you insist, you can start by finding the spanner wrench that has once again grown legs and gone missing from my toolkit,” Tech says with a bite. “I will need it for—”

“I’m not talking about the ship, Tech,” Hunter sighs and takes Tech by the wrist, pulling him away from his work and forcing their bodies flush. “You’ve barely said a word to anyone in days.”

Hunter can pinpoint the change in Tech’s demeanor to right after their last conversation with Echo, after he told them that they found the operative they’d been looking for. That operative just happened to be Echo’s thought-to-be-dead partner, and there was the unspoken “we need to talk” that had been laced into their conversation.

Tech makes a frustrated noise that Hunter understands. Gently, he cups Tech’s cheek, draws him into a kiss, and slowly, intimately maps the lines of his lips, his jaw, his tongue, until he has Tech forgetting why he’s upset. It feels nice, though, knowing someone so well that their bodies can heal one another’s wounds, at least temporarily.

“We’re almost to Teth. Let’s hear him out. Whatever happens, nothing changes between us, understand?” Hunter breathes, lets Tech feel his words, taste them and hear them.

“Yes, that is fine,” he agrees, even if it is reluctant.

.

Hunter/Fives

Things do not go as expected. If Hunter had credits to bet, he would have bet against this ever happening, much less so fast, so quickly.

Thinking back on it, he wonders if any of them really put long-term thought into this, or if they were all just desperate to stay together and make it work. In the same vein, something pulls at his chest, and he doesn’t think he’d change anything. Last night had been…incredible. Tech had looked so good between two former ARC Troopers, mouthing and panting against Echo’s neck while Fives sweetly fucked him, whispering teasing little things to Fives as Hunter pressed into him and made him moan their names.

A pleasant thrill races up his spine as he’s drawn out of the memory by lips on his neck. He trills as Fives trails kisses along his naked shoulder, then tips Hunter’s head back to claim his lips. He’s a bold one, like Echo. It’s no wonder they were the best in their squad at the height of the war, but Fives’s kisses are different. Echo kisses with deliberate movements, always with the desire to elicit a reaction, but Fives seems to move because it feels good, willing to take his time. Hunter finds it easy to relax into Fives’s lips, and moans softly at how freeing it is to simply let go.

The sun crests over the horizon, and Hunter hums, almost chasing his lips as the spell starts to break. “What now?”

“Whatever you and Tech want,” Fives answers, “the sex was fun, and I’m happy to keep doing that, but I know there are feelings involved, and…”

Fives trails off, but Hunter knows. “I don’t know if we’ll have an answer right away.”

Another long, sweet kiss, and then Fives presses their foreheads together. “Take your time.”

.

Echo/Tech

Fives gives them space. Echo is grateful.

Night rolls in. The day has been kind, thankfully, and the awkwardness has been at minimal levels, but this isn’t Echo’s first time in dealing with Tech. There’s an abundance of new information for him to process, and he can tell that by the end of late meal, he’s overwhelmed.

Hunter moves to follow him out for some air, but Echo stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. “Let me.”

He finds Tech sitting not far from the entrance of the base, nose in his datapad, scanning for stars knows what, but that’s how Tech works, especially when there’s a lot to sift through.

“Mind if I join you?”

Tech lifts his head, and it’s obvious that he’s expecting Hunter, not him. Still, he doesn’t deny him, and nods as he makes room beside him, but doesn’t offer anything else. Silence hangs between them as the sun starts to set, but Echo is patient. He’ll wait all night if he has to because this is important to him. Tech is important to him.

Finally, Tech puts his datapad aside and frowns. “I do not know what you expect me to say. We came here to discuss how things should progress now that Fives has come back from the dead, so to speak, but we have not conducted any actual conversation about the issue.”

Echo sighs. He knows this is the hardest part, laying out exactly what he wants for Tech to examine and find all of the flaws in. He clenches his fist and looks up at him. “I don’t know how to have this conversation, because no matter what angle I look at it, I’m the one being selfish, but I want all of you in my life. I love Fives, Tech. I always have, and I always will. Even when…I still loved him.”

“But he is back now,” Tech says, and Echo can tell he’s trying to be positive, for his sake, because it’s good and happy and they should all be happy about this, “is there really much else to discuss?”

“Yes!”

Both are stunned at the outburst, but Echo recovers first by taking Tech’s hand in his and holding tightly. “…I love Fives, but I love Hunter, and I love you, too. I don’t want what we have to go away because Fives is back.”

“…But you left,” Tech counters, “and Hunter and I have been supportive of you wanting to remain in the fight, but it has put a strain on our relationship.”

Our, meaning between him and Hunter, our, being between them and Echo.

“…I thought that our arrangement was enough,” Echo admits quietly.

Tech falters, frowns, then kisses Echo slowly. It’s the way Tech’s breath stutters, the way there’s the smallest hint of desperation in the way their tongues slide together, then dies when realization settles. They part, and Tech takes his hand from Echo’s grasp and stands, hiding his face.

“It is not.”

.

Hunter/Echo

“We don’t know him enough to love him the way we love you.”

And that’s what Hunter had been alluding to that morning with Fives, what Tech had failed to communicate with Echo during their talk that left them freshly wounded and vulnerable. He stands with his arms crossed, eyes pleading for Echo to understand that this isn’t as easy as ‘we slept together so that solves everything.’

“But I know him!” Echo yells like that should be enough.

Hunter frowns, shaking his head. “How did you think this would go? Did you think that we would join you here? Were you going to give up the fight and come back with us to live away from the Empire?”

Those aren’t even a fraction of the questions that Hunter has for him, but he tries to be understanding because it’s Echo, because he loves him.

Echo doesn’t answer him because Hunter already knows the answer.

“You have a choice to make,” Hunter says softly, kindly.

“Stay, please,” Echo begs, just for a little while, just to get to know him. I promise you, he’s worth it.”

Hunter’s heart aches. “I know he is. You wouldn’t love him so fiercely if he wasn’t. I have no reason to believe he isn’t as amazing as you say he is.”

“Then stay—”

“This isn’t our fight, Echo,” Hunter says more firmly. “We have Omega to think about, and Wrecker and Crosshair. We’re tired of fighting. We just want to live our lives, find who we are outside of being a soldier.”

It’s a stalemate, neither of them willing to bend.

Until Echo stands, closes the gap between them, lays his head on Hunter’s shoulder the way he does with Fives, and laces their fingers together. “…We’ll visit regularly. I don’t want things to end between us, but if you’re willing to give him the chance to be a part of us, I’m willing to put in the work. We’ll keep you out of the fight as much as possible, and you can get to know him outside of a rebel base. Hunter, please…”

.

Fives/Tech

“Hey, wait up!”

Tech stops at the foot of the ramp, looks confused for a moment before he realizes that Fives is talking to him. He stops, catching his breath and panting as he seems to have run a long distance, then stands again with a grin that, admittedly, makes Tech’s heart skip a beat.

“Is there something wrong?” Tech inquires.

Fives waves his hand. “No, no! I heard from Echo just now that you agreed to the arrangement he proposed to Hunter.”

“I did,” Tech nods, unsure of where this is going. “It is the most logical solution to all of the problems that have risen since your return.”

A guilty flush settles on Fives’s cheek. “I’m sorry…for causing trouble for you all. I didn’t even know he was alive. When I ‘died’, he…”

Tech sighs. He knows all of this already. “No, I am sorry. You had no way of knowing, and it is not something I fault you for anyway. I…agreed…because my feelings for Echo are rather strong, and I know how much you mean to him.”

He pauses, then offers Fives a small smile. “And anyone that Echo loves is a welcome presence. It is true that Hunter and I do not know you personally, but we have heard much about you, and it is because of how Echo and the others have spoken about you that we want to know you and give this a chance.”  

Fives’s flush turns to one of embarrassment, and he chuckles sheepishly. “He spoke that highly of me?"

"As often as he could," Tech comments, and his posture eases.

It’s his downfall.

Suddenly Fives is closer, fingers tipping his chin up just slightly, and lips covering his. It’s a focused kiss, careful not to be demanding or expectant, but enough that Tech knows that he means the emotions that are behind it, and he lets Fives kiss him thoroughly. It’s nice, letting someone new know your kiss in a healing way.

“Thank you,” Fives whispers as they part, “for taking care of him and giving me a chance.”

Tech hums, chases his lips for another, more chaste kiss and to feel the scratch of his goatee on his chin again. “I look forward to your first visit.”

Fives chuckles, keeps him close as he kisses him one more time. “Likewise.”

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #40 – Dead Silence by S. A. Barnes

This was yet another book that has been on my TBR list for so long I had entirely forgotten what the actual pitch was – I went into it pretty much entirely blind, just ‘sci fi horror’ from the glanced over marketing copy on the back. Which is really the best way to go about reading(/watching/playing) horror, anyway. It was an entertaining enough read? If an uneven one – the first half was really incredibly better than the second, unfortunately.

The story follows Claire Kovalik, the ‘team lead’ of a maintenance crew repairing com relays in the ass end of the solar system – at least until they finish this last run and are officially rendered obsolete. Too psychologically fragile for her corporate masters to trust her with an actual ship, the only future she has to look forward to is a deskbound sinecure revising training manuals on Earth. She’s seriously considering killing herself instead, when their sensors detect an archaic distress signal past the edge of charted space – the Aurora, first and last space liner for the rich and famous, vanished with all hands on its maiden voyage decades ago. The finder’s fee and accumulated bounties would be enough to set everyone on the team for life (not even counting any artifacts they pocket to auction on the side), so the five of them board and reactivate the old hulk, exploring its galleries and aiming it towards Earth. Just a 60 hour burn to reliable communications with the rest of the system, totally worth it for fame and fortune. Even once they start discovering the state of all the former passengers, and figuring out what happened in those last hours aboard the ship.

So! This is Event Horizon but with the Titanic. It’s other things too, but that’s the pitch. Now, I like Event Horizon, and adore exploited corporate serfs being slowly suffocated by looming dread as they explore the gore-stained ruins of past decadence, so that’s no bad thing for me. But still, even from the outset this is not a work that tries to break any molds. This honestly becomes much more of an issue in the third act, when the book basically shifts genre and also has to come up with answers and a resolution to the whole thing and just does not land it for me.

The main twist on the formula is that Claire is the only survivor of a Martian colony that was annihilated by plague (and a missed resupply) when she was a child, the physical and emotional trauma of which left her partially deaf in one ear, terrified of emotional connections and (most pertinently) already possessed of significant experience with hallucinating the bloody corpses of people she cares about wandering around when she’s stressed. Which turns out to be a very useful life skill, when they turn the ship back on and everyone starts having to deal with that. Which is mostly pretty fun! The paranoia and terror as everything goes to shit at the end of the first act are great. Sadly, the book then decides to keep going.

The first half of the book is the story of the initial salvage crew’s discovery of the Aurora, as relayed through Claire getting debriefed/interrogated by a couple of corporate goons after being found half-dead in an escape pod. The latter half is those same corporate goons conscripting her for a return journey to the ship, now guiding three platoons of mercenaries. It’s like if you watched a double-feature of Alien and one of its bad sequels. The book slips from well-executed to paint-by-numbers, and the big reveal is basically the most boring possible answer you could imagine. This is not helped by the book’s action sequences just not being very...good.

Part of that is just the book’s complete lack of faith in its audience, or understanding of subtlety. Several twists are telegraphed so obviously that it’s hard to believe Claire is actually surprised by them, and character beats are just repeated so often you want to grab the author and scream you get it already. Claire’s tragic backstory is repeated something like half a dozen times, and the surprise villain spends half the final confrontation basically giving a monologue about how he’d drown a nursery full of babies if it topped up his 401k.

Villains aside, the supporting cast is mostly fun-if-one-note. Decently executed, but all very much walked out of sci fi central casting. Which more or less works, in that they’re all energetic and mostly fun to have on page. The unfortunate and singular exception is Claire’s love interest, the team medic. Whose...nice? Has a daughter back on Earth? Might as well be a statue carved from literal white bread? You know the cliche about hollywood action movies where the hero’s girlfriend has zero personality or arc and mostly exists to be hot and motivate him by being imperilled? Basically the gender-flip of that.

One thing the book kind of teases but absolutely never really explores or tries to resolve is the fact that in addition to all the hallucinations and madness with (boring, but) mechanistic and materialistic explanations, ghosts might also just be real? There’s several points in the book where Claire sees the body she doesn’t recognize hovering around someone, and when she describes it to them, they know who it is. It’s also a recurring thing that her visions of her dead mom are supposed to be how she even knew how to send out the SOS that got her rescued from the dead colony as a child. You might expect that this would eventually build to something, or be key to the final resolution. You would be incorrect.

So yeah, would have been a very solid horror novella if it just cut the entire second act. As is, I mean I’m not angry I read it, but not sure I’d go out of my way to recommend it either.

[gumnut-logic]

John found him in module two.

His second eldest brother was sitting beside the pod, pieces of it spread around him, staring at nothing.

John leant against the hatchway and quietly watched him. From the moment Grandma had reported the avalanche, John knew he would have to come home tonight. Avalanche rescues always messed with the family, particularly Scott and Virgil. He would be lying if he said they didn’t affect him, but he wasn’t boots on ground. He didn’t have to watch that wave of white bearing down on those he loved.

He hadn’t been the one there on that fateful day.

Virgil wore a frown as if he was glaring at something or someone John couldn’t see.

John had already checked in on Scott...on the other side of the Island and still moving. He’d be out running for a while and likely would come back and give the gym a work out.

Virgil was more subtle. He tended to pound the piano or vanish into his studio. On the rare occasion he could be found beside Scott either pummelling a sandbag or his brother on the spar mat. To find him here was a little odd.

“I’m okay, John.” Those eyes were suddenly fixed on the astronaut. “How’s Gordon?”

He pushed himself off the hatchway and entered the module. His spacesuited feet hardly made a sound. “He’s as well as can be expected. He’s with Alan.” A few more silent footsteps and John sat down quietly beside his brother. “What are you doing?”

His brother reached down and picked up a piece of pod mechanics. “Just checking the system after today’s rescue.”

John eyed exactly what Virgil had pulled apart. He was pretty sure it was the side of the module that hadn’t been used...and the same he and Scott had finished maintenance on that morning.

Busywork?

“I’m okay, John. You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry is my business.”

Brown eyes glanced up at him. “I thought that was in Scott’s portfolio.”

“Different perspective.”

Virgil arched an eyebrow before picking up another piece of pod and shoving it into the storage case. Several more pieces followed with no further attempt at conversation.

“Alan said you were grumpy for most of the day.”

That did it. His usually quiet brother flared up like a snake prodded with a hot poker. “He did, did he? Did he also tell you that he has turned Max into his personal slave so he can sit on his butt and watch videos while the rest of us work our asses off?”

“Not in so many words, no.” Calm and considered.

It succeeded. Virgil deflated. “No, he wouldn’t.” His brother returned to shifting around mechanical parts.

“How is Scott?”

His brother froze. “How do you think he is. Alan was nearly buried in an avalanche. I expect to be repairing gym equipment tomorrow.” Virgil stood up and put his back into moving the equipment into the locker.

“No one was injured. We’re all safe.”

“Yes, we are.” A chunk of pod landed on the module floor with a massive clang and Virgil swore.

Reaching down, John picked up the piece of machinery and, standing, held it out to his brother. Virgil looked at him with sad eyes. “Thank you.” It was taken from his hand and stashed beside its siblings.

“Gordon was very impressed.”

Virgil paused a moment, but then returned to shifting equipment. “With what?”

“With you.”

That was enough to stop him. “Gordon?”

John struggled to hold back a smile. “In his words...’Oh my god, yeeeah! Go Virg!’”

Virgil blinked at him and John could no longer hold back the grin. “Can’t say I wasn’t impressed myself.”

He watched his brother fight the urge to smile. “The new grapple gun performed well.”

John rolled his eyes. “You performed well, Virgil. There is no harm in taking credit where it is due.”

“I’m just glad I got Alan off the side of that mountain.” And the glum was back.

John sighed to himself as Virgil shut the equipment locker. “What is it, Virgil? What’s bugging you? Because all I can see is a successful rescue with a great outcome.”

His brother rounded on him. “It was pure chance, John. So damn close and it shouldn’t have been!” Virgil’s eyes flared at him in anger, but not at John, but...

At himself.

“How?”

Virgil’s brows knotted even more. “I knew that mountain was coming down. I had sensors on it. I was sitting there waiting with nothing else to do but stare at the damn thing, and it still caught me by surprise!” Virgil shoved the locker against the wall with a bang. John blinked at the strength his brother wielded. “There shouldn’t have been a dramatic rescue, I should have been there already!” Virgil turned away. “Alan and Brandon could have died because I wasn’t on the ball.”

John stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

The glare Virgil shot him was enough to flay him alive. “Do I look like I have a sense of humour right now?”

“Virgil-“

But his brother wasn’t finished. “We can have all the equipment in the world and it won’t mean jack shit if I’m not good enough to deploy it in time.”

“Virgil-“

“And Alan. We could have lost Alan. I-I can’t...not like Mom, please not like Mom.”

John’s eyes widened. “Virgil, take a breath. He’s okay. We’re all okay.”

Brown eyes stared up at him. “I fucked up so bad.”

John reached over and took his brother by his shoulders. “Virgil! How can you possibly say that? Did you see what you did?”

“I saw exactly what I did. Why wasn’t I airborne sooner? Why did I wait until the vibration sensor was in MOTION before making a move? It was seconds, John, seconds. I didn’t think I was going to make it. They could have been buried alive.” Like Mom.

That last might as well have been shouted with the rest.

“But they weren’t”

“Pure luck.”

“No! Virgil Tracy! You were on the scene. You were there. There was no way anything was going to happen to either of them with you in play, Virgil. You know this. I know this. I have seen you face far more than a falling mountain. It didn’t stand a chance.”

“John-“

“You listen to me. I know you. I watch you day in and day out. I may be twenty-two thousand kilometres away, but I am with you every step every rescue and, goddamnit, Virgil, those seconds may well have been hours for all they mattered.” He glared at his brother. “How many times have you sat back in a situation, watching, only to step in and save the day when it most counts? You sit there quietly, calculating, planning, knowing exactly when to intervene. You are our rock, Virgil. Solid, dependable and inevitable. And god forbid anything gets in your way once you get moving.”

John’s lips were tight and his heart thudding. Virgil stood staring at him, eyes wide.

Quietly. “When I’m so far above and someone is screaming, you are the hands I reach out to catch them with. I trust those hands with so many lives, Virgil. So many people calling for help and I have no need for faith because I KNOW you will do everything you can. Just like you did today.” A breath. “Don’t doubt yourself. I never have.”

He let his brother go and straightened.

Virgil was still staring at him. It wasn’t often John put so much into words, but the self-doubt in his brother’s eyes just demanded it. Perhaps it would have enough impact to sink in.

In the meantime, back to basics.

“Have you eaten?”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

Obviously not.

“Food, Virgil. Fuel for your engine.”

“Oh, uh...”

“I didn’t think so. C’mon, big brother, sustenance will help change your perspective.” John grabbed Virgil’s arm and nudged him in the direction of the module hatchway. Still staring, Virgil did as he was told.

“I’m the big brother, John.”

“Yeah? Well, sometimes big brothers need corralling as much as younger brothers. I thought you’d understand that with Scott on your radar so much.”

Virgil blinked. “I see your point.”

John held onto Virgil the entire elevator ride up to the residential levels. He didn’t let go until his brother was seated at the kitchen table. The acquisition of a simple sandwich and John plopped both the food and himself down in front of Virgil. “Now eat.”

“Are you going to watch my every bite?” A definite frown was forming like a storm cell on his brother’s brow.

“No, I’m just going to sit here and enjoy your company.” A thought. “Might even have a beer. You want one?” He stood up again and rummaged in the fridge.

Another blink. “Aren’t you going back up tonight? Doesn’t Brains need you?”

“No, I have more important things to attend to down here.” Ooh, some of Scott’s boutique beer. He eyed the label. Expensive boutique beer. It would do the job. Two bottles landed on the table.

“You know they are Scott’s.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Your funeral, I guess.”

“He’ll survive. Eat your sandwich.”

Virgil was staring at him again.

John sighed. “Is it really so shocking that I care about you?”

“No! It’s just...” Virgil’s shoulders settled a little. “Thank you, John.”

“No thanks needed, just trust yourself a little more.” He pinned his brother with his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now eat your sandwich.”

John held back a smile when Virgil immediately bit into his bread.

-o-o-o-

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Idol

The morning sun illuminated the DropShips towering over the encampment and Sigrid was making her way ‘home’. The mess tent was disappearing behind her and the sounds of the camp faded along with it to be replaced by the din of people working around the towering vessels.

She boarded, finding herself in the small human-sized corridors that made the ship feel almost cramped. The feeling didn’t last as she soon found herself face to face with the cavern that was the MechLab. It looked big from up in the overlook, where she could see the entire area, but from here on ground level she didn’t think she’d ever get used to it.

Every single Bay was lit up and most had ‘Techs working on repairing the damaged machines inside. Despite this, one of them seemed cloaked in shadow. No light reflected onto the walkway in front, and from where she just entered she couldn’t see into the Bay.

The moment she could though, it all made sense.

Sigrid blinked.

Siggy opened her eyes and bounced to the mirror. In it she saw a girl with a great big mop of unruly red hair. She sat down and brushed and brushed and brushed, and then started braiding, just like Mom had showed her. Each strand meticulously on display.

Behind her on the wall hung her dream. On the left of the twin posters an impressive looking ‘Mech stepped out of a blazing inferno. Legs bending backwards, striding resolutely forward with two arms and great big rocket pods on its shoulders.

Beside it was a much more sedate but much more interesting dream. The same ‘Mech, now laid out in excruciating detail in an exploded technical view. Sometimes when she couldn’t sleep, she looked over the poster to read all the things she read a thousand times. Where the actuators were, where the sensors were, every single line on the diagram committed to memory, familiar and comforting.

And then she blinked again.

In front of her, black as a moonless night, stood her dream. A towering and proud machine, dormant but steadfast. Almost… alive.

The engineering on the foot in front of her was masterful, if she looked close enough she could see every piece of articulation, not a rivet out of place despite the well-worn look. Her eyes drifted from the trifold feet to the massive calf actuators and then further up. To the upper legs, the sleek torso and the arm actuators ending in dual hardpoints.

She couldn’t see the missile banks, but she knew them. She could see every familiar component, every single caption from her posters on Utrecht.

It didn’t just live up to her expectations, this machine exceeded it.

Blink. Work to do.

Sigrid synced her tablet with the docket and looked over her assigned tasks.

MechTech: Sigrid Guntran Initial assignment: Timber Wolf ‘Death Knell’ Bay: 8 Work order:  right torso; replace armor plating right torso; general maintenance Full systems check Notes: Sigrid, sorry to put this on ya last minute, but I know you can do it! I’m trying to keep low so the MedTechs don’t get me. -Karrie

She looked down at her tablet, and then up at her dream. Part of her wondered if this was real, and another part supplied that she was currently working on an SLDF DropShip, deep in the Rimward periphery, on a hostile planet, under the command of a beautiful avian woman so old that the show she was on with the other Clan totem warriors – who were also here – was considered a historical record.

Working on an actual Timber Wolf didn’t seem so odd anymore.

She climbed up to the catwalk and found the Bay controls. From up here she could see the majesty that was the Timber Wolf from its rear angles, a dark void contrasted against the bright industrial lighting of the MechLab. She knew every angle, every single curve of the machine’s panelling by heart.

As the platform on the ‘Mech’s right side was lowering into position, she moved around to follow it. Panning down from the side she could see where the torso armor had taken the hits. Large chunks were warped or missing, open wounds showing the delicate internals that thankfully seemed to be in good shape. How good a shape she would have to find out later. Right now, the armor needed to come off.

She knew the automated arms could be more efficient, but they weren’t as accurate as handheld power tools. A machine of this caliber deserved those. She let the winch above her come down. Before connecting the straps onto the armor she placed a hand on the wounded ‘Mech.

“We’ll get you fixed up, don’t you worry.”

She hooked the straps to the attachment points in the armor and tensioned the lines. Bit by bit she carefully detached the panel until only the tension from above held them in place. Then it was just a light pull until it started moving.

She slowly guided the crane to move the panel out of the way and safely to the floor level of the Bay, out of the way of the walkway. A tap or two on her tablet flagged it for repairs. A forklift would be along soon.

With the panel out of the way she could see the underlying internals, sleek steel pipes contrasting harshly and beautifully against the black of the surrounding panels. And she knew them.

She knew the coolant from the lubricant from the hydraulics from the electronics at a glance, the labels only confirming what she already knew. Every conduit flowed like a symphony around the frame.

Around the places the armour had been gauged, she looked a little closer. Signs of damage would be hard to spot among the labyrinth of angles, but a visual inspection was part of the troubleshooting process. Her eyes danced over each line, following them from one end of the panel gap to where they snaked back into the ‘Mech’s interior.

All looked clear and secure, Clan engineering ensuring that even in the event of armor breach, the primary systems would not be easy to take out. Let alone the secondary and tertiary.

The systems looked undamaged, so she let the platform carry her down, just in time to see the panel being driven to the manufacturing wing. She followed along, not minding that she couldn’t keep up with the forklift. It’d give them some time to offload before she showed up. The difference in time between walking and driving was significant when dealing with this much space. Sigrid enjoyed the walks though, the Bay in operation was a soothing cacophony of all the different tools interacting with every material under the sun.

The armor repair itself was repetition more than anything. Identify a damaged subpanel. Remove the damaged subpanel. Find a suitable sized replacement. Shape the replacement. Attach the replacement. Repeat.

The capstone was the painting. It needed to match the existing color scheme, and match it well. Fresh paint also looked different from worn paint, but that was nothing they couldn’t handle. In the brochure it had never said that being an artist was part of being a MechTech, but the surprise had been a pleasant one.

The paint fresh but no longer wet, she followed the forklift back to Bay 8. It was already hoisted up and ready to be placed. She considered the automated tools, but for installation the accuracy was even more important than for removal, and handheld tools were king.

The work was honestly calming to Sigrid, alone up on the platform, grafting new skin onto the wounded ‘Mech in front of her. Bit by bit she circled around the edge of the panel until everything looked like she never touched it at all.

She climbed back onto the catwalk where her equipment was stored. She took out her neurohelmet and opened the compartment on her toolkit where she kept her soft tools. She knew them by heart, but looking through them helped remind her which ones she had available should the need arise.

The hop from the catwalk to the top of the Timber Wolf was not a big one. The matte black paint on the armor made it a little harder to judge. What made it really hard to make the jump though, was that Sigrid knew what she was about to do.

She was about to hop on top of a Timber Wolf. She was about to open the latch and lower herself inside. She already knew what it would look like, she knew the view from the cockpit, she knew the exact dimensions of the enclosure.

And that made it all the more daunting.

Gathering her will in her mind and her grip on her neurohelmet, she took the hop.

She was standing on top of a Timber Wolf. She was working on it, it was her work. It was her dream. She unlocked the hatch and allowed herself to slip inside.

Inside the ‘Mech it was quiet. No hum from the reactor, no sound arrived from the outside. There was just Sigrid, trying to calm her breathing, and the terrifying, loving embrace of a dream.

Her mind knew the startup sequence of a ‘Mech. Her fingers danced this dance before. And yet she couldn’t stop trembling as she toggled the first switch.

Bay power to auxiliary generator.

The high-pitched whine of the generator filled the cockpit. It was reassuring, it was terrifying, it was exhilarating.

Flick.

Auxiliary power to emergency lighting.

The lights around her came online. Dim compared to the view through the cockpit, but plenty bright enough to see by.

Auxiliary power to diagnostic systems.

Screens flickered to life. White text flew over a black background as the ‘Mech rose from slumber. Not awake yet, but no longer asleep. Sigrid listened to the whine and the soft clicks performing a symphony of self-tests. The ‘Mech checked its pressures, checked every single one of its connections in a lightning-fast choreography of every system it could access.

The text scrolled by faster than she could read, but she wasn’t looking for text. She was looking for colors. She was looking for the orange that signified a warning, the angry red that signified a fault. Her heartbeat punctuated the soundscape as seconds ticked past.

And then nothing.

No more text flying by, nothing more to focus her attention on. Just a single phrase that was both the best thing she could have read and the most disappointing.

Self-test: 100% Warnings: 0 Errors: 0 System status: OK

No need to diagnose further, it would not be time well spent. It would be time spent with her dream, but that didn’t matter.

She powered down the ‘Mech, returning it to cold and dark status. Ready for when it would be needed again. She picked her neurohelmet from where she set it down and held it in her hands. She stared at the visor.

Reflected in it she could see a woman with red hair in a tight bun, sitting inside the cockpit of a Timber Wolf. Her dream.

She sighed and rotated the helmet around. With trembling hands she placed it on her head.

She wasn’t plugged in.

The ‘Mech was powered down.

She had better things to do.

Siggy closed her eyes. It didn’t matter.

She had her helmet on

Made from an old football helmet, Utrecht Kodiaks logo covered with silver tape

She could see the canopy in front of her

Made from a laundry basket, tipped on its side

She knew exactly where the missile pods were

Two cardboard boxes, placed on the sofa behind her

She was in the cockpit of a Timber Wolf.

She was in the cockpit of a Timber Wolf.

The beat of her heart and the sound of her breath were the only things accompanying her for this moment in time, etching itself into her memory as her visor slowly fogged up without the air circulation connected.

She took off her helmet and held it in her hands, staring into the condensed visor one last time. There was work to be done.

She extracted herself from the cockpit and closed the hatch beneath her.

The hop from the ‘Mech onto the catwalk was both easier and harder than the other way. She landed with a soft impact of her work boots.

She placed her helmet with her toolkit and sat down on the upper catwalk, out of sight of anyone working, staring at her dream.

She raised her tablet. Four taps was all it took.

Work order complete

@jaded-falcon

[thunderclaw100]

Favorite color: leaf green

Personalities:Balanced,Charismatic,Curious,Direct,Firm,Insightful,Observant,Reflective,Sane.

Cause of Death:Killed by alien forces.

Hydra is a little over the edge sometimes. Going to extreme lengths to get what she wants. Starting from when she was a smeet, Hydra is one of the many first patch of sworms made in the new smeetery underground. Those who have been cloned and automatically given paks once hatched out of their containment pods. Hydra, with the knowledge she was given during installment. Was already eager to start her duties. Tallest Axel was the first to greet her and the others. A short meet and greet but this allowed the smeets to know who they are going to serve. Hydra began her basic training in the simulation room with the others.

She made quite a ruckus in there. Her competitive side clearly showing but at least her scores are up. Hydra went wants to be a military strategist. She made some good impressions on her peers but was too uncertain about showing this off to the tallest. A close comrade put in a good for her though. She now sits with the top generals of the Irken military. Organizing plans and setting up camp bases on other planets. Hydra started out small with this but wanted to go bigger. Gathering anything valuable to bring back to Irk. She stayed in her sector for some time before become tallest herself.

The decision on that was based on her development and strategic mind on things. The control brains wanted Hydra do lead and command a raid on a nearby planet, which she did without a second thought. Her soldiers reported that the inhabitants were not much trouble to take down, so the raid went well. Gathering some more weaponry is on her list and it did take her some time to gather enough of a fighting force to take down larger creatures that the irkens usually try to avoid. One day, Hydra was summoned by the control brain and is told that there are some irkens who are stepping out of order and are causing problems in the system.

She is to snuff them out once caught. The tallest did find them but then realize that the ones she’s after are just smeets. Just out of their containers. They’ve must have wondered off on their own and began messing with some of the computer system in the chamber room. Hydra is confused as to why does she need to get rid of these smeets? The leader crouched down to get a better look at them and she gasped. They are all disfigured and abnormal in a way. One smeet had one broken antenna and a bulging eye ball. Another has a head bigger than the rest of its body. She found one smeet clinging to her gown. This one has two sets of arms and is chirping at her. Hydra contacted the maintenance crew for repair the damages. Along with them came the disposal staff. They round up the smeets and took them to another room. The tallest was horrified to know that it wasn’t that these smeets were messing with the cable wires in there.

It’s because of their appearance and odd behavior that disturbed the brains, that they want these new smeets to die. Tallest Hydra only managed to save a few of them from being put to death by the maintenance crew. She marched right back to the chamber of the control brains and demand an explanation from them. It was said that they do not wish to have any disturbance from their subjects. Any that are in that factor will be terminated, including smeets. Tallest Hydra was against this plot and tried her best to reason with the control brains. They disregard everything said to them and ordered the tallest to return to her work. Hydra couldn’t focus much because of that incident. Her only distraction was snacking down food in her chamber. Few days later, there was a report that a planet called Estopia is flourishing with medical herbs that the empire can benefit with. Delighted with this discovery. Tallest Hydra went on this trip.

Taking few of her soldiers with her to investigate this planet. When they got to planet Estupia, they were immediately attacked by the locals there. The Irken troops were the first killed. Tallest Hydra fended them off long enough to send out a distress signal from her gauntlet before taking a final blow to the head and died right there. She and the others are taken back to Irk. News of their tallest goin to a planet like that was strange to them. According to the researchers, there is no planet called Estupia. The same itself sounds like “Stupid” all butchered up. So where did tallest Hydra get these reports from? Nobody knows for sure, but this was definitely a set up mission and it cost the life of their leader as well as her defense soldiers. Later that evening, a vigil was held for her before tallest Hydra was given to the morgue handling drones. Detaching her pak and giving it to the control brains to refurbish.

And Hydra’s body goes to the machine. Where here body will be broken down into its basic materials and her DNA is used for the next generation of factory smeets. Progress in the Irken economy have been slowing down since her death. And until a new tallest was measured. The control brains took charge.

[elfiecrystal]

Redesign my BWW Oc, Princeton!

He still the Maintenance/Manager for the all of the Costume Friends that reside in an office over at Stage 6.

He a Maestro that maintain the Costume Friends Box and Keys. Making sure all of the costume are working and spread out the key in the stage.

He friends with all of the Costume Friend too!

He also repairs some of the Costume Friend uniforms and armor. But he spends his day in his office or being with other Costume Friends. He hates horror movies and sleep in a sleep pod.

He have an adopted daughter named Pisces (Who I'm currently working on)

Here a comparison of his design from 2021

[ultimate-worldbuilding]

Creating a Space Station

Name and Location:

Name of the space station

Orbital location (e.g., around a planet, moon, or in deep space)

Any unique features or characteristics of the location

Background and Purpose:

Brief history and reasons for the station's construction

Primary purpose or mission of the station (e.g., research, colonization, defense, trade, mining, etc.)

Key organizations or entities involved in its establishment

Design and Structure:

Overview of the station's architectural design and layout

Different modules or sections of the station (e.g., living quarters, research labs, docking bays, etc.)

Key engineering feats or technological advancements used in its construction

Size and Population:

Dimensions of the space station (length, width, height)

Estimated population and demographics (humans, aliens, robots, etc.)

Capacity for expansion and accommodating future growth

Systems and Resources:

Life support and Resource systems: Air generation and filtration, Water purification and recycling, Waste management, Artificial gravity, Temperature and air pressure control, Radiation protection, Fire suppression systems, Medical supplies and tools, Food production, Maintenance and Repair tools and facilities

Energy source and storage: Solar power, Nuclear fusion, Advanced batteries, Fusion reactors, Harvesting solar flares

Living Quarters and Facilities

Description of residential areas (individual quarters, communal spaces, recreational facilities)

Water block

Medical facilities and healthcare services available

Education and training facilities for residents and their families

Scientific Research and Laboratories

Different types of laboratories and equipment available depending on the stations’s mission

Astronomical observatories, Biological Laboratory, Climate and Environmental Studies, Planet observation and Research, Rock Analysis Facility

Transportation and Docking:

Docking bays for spacecraft and shuttle services

Transportation systems within the station (elevators, maglev trains, etc.)

Maintenance and repair facilities for visiting spacecraft

Security and Defense:

Security measures and protocols

Defense systems against potential threats: Shielding technology, Defensive satellites & space drones, Cloaking Technology, Countermeasures (flares, countershots, etc), Intruder Detection Systems, Surveillance and AI protection, Protection by AI or Hacker from outside hacks, Self-Repair System

Security personnel and their roles and ranks

Communication and Information Systems:

Communication technology used for inter-station and interstellar communication

Data storage and retrieval systems

Access to networks anddatabases

Trade and Economy:

Types of goods and resources traded on the station

Cargo of the space station

Economic systems

Currency used

Marketplaces within the station

Social and Cultural Aspects:

Societal norms and cultural diversity among the station's residents

Recreational and entertainment facilities (cinemas, sports arenas, etc.)

Events or celebrations unique to the station's culture

Governance and Administration:

Station hierarchy and governing bodies (administrators, council, etc.)

Laws and regulations specific to the station

Interactions with external governing entities (planetary governments, interstellar alliances, etc.)

Exploration and Discovery:

Expeditions or missions launched from the station

Discoveries made during exploration and sample gathering efforts

Spacecrafts and vehicles associated with the station's exploration activities

Environmental Considerations:

Measures taken to mitigate the effects of microgravity or radiation on residents' health

Environmental controls and simulations for recreating gravity and natural environments

Preservation of ecosystems and biodiversity on the station (if applicable)

Emergency Response and Crisis Management:

Protocols for handling emergencies (fires, system failures, medical emergencies, etc.)

Emergency evacuation plans and escape pods

Training programs for emergency response teams

Relations with Other Space Stations or Entities:

Collaborative projects or joint initiatives with other space stations

Trade agreements or diplomatic relations with neighboring stations or colonies

Conflict resolution mechanisms for inter-station disputes

Notable Individuals or Figures:

Prominent leaders from the station

Accomplishments and contributions of notable residents

Astronauts, scientists, or pioneers who have called the station home

Challenges and Risks:

Environmental and technological risks faced by the station

Political and social tensions within the station's community

External threats and conflicts affecting the station's stability

Future Expansion and Development:

Plans for future expansion and upgrades (where are they gonna get the resources for this?)

Integration of new technologies, scientific advancements into the station's infrastructure

Long-term goals for the station

[astralartefact]

in another branch, on a less lonely moon... are nier reincarnation ocs even allowed?

yH ("Waiha") - Sentinel Surety Character Story

In another branch, on a less lonely moon... He is one of the 7 to 8 YoRHa models stationed at the moon base. Tasked to monitor, document and organize weapon stories he finds himself reading countless accounts of humanity's folly - much to the dismay of the easygoing Pod assigned to him who can't bring himself to scold him for taking far too much time.

Ashen Confidence - Light Staff Weapon Story

The Pod I work with behaves in weird ways. He keeps making references to a non-existent girlfriend - that I should hide her when he comes into the room. Why would he say that?

Working through archival data I understand it to be a customary greeting male authority figures use towards younger male relatives. For some reason they seemed to hold great pride in the relationships of their young.

I asked Pod who he thought my girlfriend was and he just replied he was joking and that I shouldn't take what he says so seriously. Another time I told him that I could just as well have a boyfriend but he ignored hearing me say that.

>>Analysis: The requested parts for Unit 16H's repair are once again missing from today's shipment. >>Hypothesis: He will likely find him before we can revive him. >>Proposal: I should write Logistics a strongly worded message.

xH ("Exha") - Sentinel Shepherd Character Story

In another branch, on a less lonely moon... She is one of the 7 to 8 YoRHa models stationed at the moon base. Beloved by all of her colleagues she tries her best to fill their days with smiles. Though nobody has ever seen her work the disorganized Pod assigned to her has yet to scold her for any sort of laziness. In her private quarters, away from the other androids, she harbors secrets.

Bebi

An experimental canine droid living in xH's room. His baby face makes him look very sweet, but he will stop at nothing to protect his Mama.

Ashen Alliance - Light 2H Sword Weapon Story

"She has brought over some cookies again." "I wonder how she has the time to bake for everybody. I can't even stop and eat between work units without Pod telling me off."

"Last month's report says she has the most work hours." "I don't believe it. I never see her work. If it wasn't for this Pod I would follow her around all day to know how she does it."

"She told someone off for trying to come into her room." "I tell you, she's hiding something in there. I'm pretty sure her room is bigger than ours, too. I bet she works with the Pods behind our backs."

>>Analysis: Deletion of Memory Data successful. I will bring these two to maintenance. >>Inquiry: Will you be okay, dearie? This is the 3rd time you are the reason they found out.

Notes

I called them Shepherd and Surety because of JESUS CHRIST (no but really, if the cage contains "humanity's sin" then 10H died for our sins - she IS the savior)

I gave them pieces of Hina and Yuzuki's Mechanical Outfits, yH has Hina's sleeves and xH has Yuzu's belts and cape

xH's is also to some degree inspired by the YoRHa Girls 1.1a uniforms

I started these before 10H came out, so that's one of the reasons they barely resemble her uniform

Their weapons are Ashen versions of the respective Virtuous/Cruel weapons. I wanted to call them after the things Papa and Dark Mama 'provided to' Hina and Yuzuki (Confidence // Community -> Alliance)

I haven't decided yet if: a) Bebi is Babe's true form and he can't talk irl (=the Babe in the cage is actually just a dog talking) or b) Bebi is Babe's corporeal form and the dog can talk (=his voice is really deep) both are equally as hilarious to me

Initially I wanted to give them all the costumes 10H gets, but then EoS happened and now... welp

I don't really have a hang of xH's hair yet, it doesn't really look like how I wanted it to look and it's even harder to figure it out while also trying to evoke an existing art style - but I will keep trying!!!

Rendering is so fcking hard. How do people do it. I start and my brain just stops thinking and just does whatever and what I'm left with is a mess. I hope you still like it because I kind of don't, but without it it looks even less like the reinkane style

[mouthpiece-simp]

Can I request Derrick Man x Land Acquisition Architect x Public Relations Representative?

Derrick Man x Land Acquisition Architect x Public Relations Representative Headcanons

Mouthful title, LOL. Number two I'm gonna pretend the PRR can leave his tower for this to work. Number three, when I saw this ask I was like, "Y'know, I could see it. Three gay peas in a pod."

🛢️🚦🧱The way these three started dating was kinda funny.

🛢️🚦🧱Pretty much everyone at the office was saying that Alton and William should get together since they had a lot of romantic tension, but they both also secretly had a crush on Winston so they didn't wanna start dating as just the two of them.

🛢️🚦🧱One day Alton, William, and Winston get stuck in an elevator and try as he might to basically earthquake it down, Alton can't get the darn thing to fall down. So they have to call maintenance who explains since they're stuck between floors they can't leave until the elevator is fixed, which is gonna take a few hours and to hang tight until then.

🛢️🚦🧱So all three of them decide to start talking, and eventually the topic naturally goes to love and the romantic tension between Alton and William. Surprisingly, they both feel pretty conflicted because they like each other but they also like Winston! Winston kinda laughs and admits he has a crush on both of them and comments about how funny it is that lined up so well.

🛢️🚦🧱The three of them decide to start dating, and after some hesitance they sit together and cuddle in the elevator. They were found asleep and cuddling once it was repaired, aww.

🛢️🚦🧱The repair Cogs took photos and posted it on social media and it spread like wildfire. The three of them all said they were dating and got overwhelming support from their fellow Cogs.

🛢️🚦🧱Given the fact that Winston is incredibly glitchy, William and Alton are constantly trying to fix him up. So far they've actually done a pretty good job since most of the issue was the toons damaging him a lot, but he's still inclined towards glitching.

🛢️🚦🧱Speaking of Winston, that guy loves talking to both of his boyfriends. He just can't get enough of listening to their cute voices and sharing his thoughts and opinions with them.

🛢️🚦🧱William is usually covered in oil spills from his work and always smells like oil. Both Winston and Alton like it... it's like a really nice cologne for them.

🛢️🚦🧱The three of them can get really busy with work and have trouble being together all at the same time, but they all changed their schedules to have one day off together so they could make up for all the time during the week they couldn't get together. All of them agree that it's now their favorite day of the week.

🛢️🚦🧱Alton loves it when his boyfriends 'kiss' him {while they both have mouths, they are a bit lacking in terms of lips so it's more like just pressing their teeth against Alton's head}. Since he's so tall they usually have trouble reaching his head, so they either 'kiss' his hand or make him pick them up so they can reach. Or they make him sit down... LOL.

🛢️🚦🧱All three of them have pet names for each other. Willy, Ally, and Winny seem to be their popular choices for each other though.

🛢️🚦🧱While the three of them usually just act kinda silly to the public eye, they have really strong connections with each other that they show behind closed doors.

🛢️🚦🧱Since Alton basically causes earthquakes when he's really emotional {particularly when he's mad}, both his boyfriends tend to restrain him when he's upset so he doesn't make a hole in the floor. He kinda struggles around first since he wants to stomp around, but eventually he settles down and just accepts it as cuddles.

🛢️🚦🧱Sometimes, Alton and Winston manage to make William get flustered with enough flirting. When he's flustered, he tends to get really quiet and bashful.

🛢️🚦🧱And speaking of flirting, they're all pretty flirty with each other. Sometimes they'll even flirt with each other at work.

🛢️🚦🧱Winston is kind of a disaster at cooking, but Alton and William are pretty decent at it and either cook together for the three of them or take turns.

🛢️🚦🧱After work, their favorite place to meet up even if they only can for a few minutes is William's waiting room. They like to sit together on a couch. Maybe it is only meant for two, but they don't care! That just means Winston gets to sit on their laps.

🛢️🚦🧱Sometimes Winston will glitch really bad and end up kind of stuck somewhere. Poor Alton and William will have to get him out, or if they can't, comfort him until he glitches back into place.

🛢️🚦🧱Alton and Winston found out that William secretly loves it when he gets to serve them oil since he makes some of the best oil, so they sometimes ask for some.

🛢️🚦🧱The three of them are basically silly goobers in public {or as silly as Cogs get}, but behind closed doors they're really sweet and wholesome to each other.

[wrathbites]

The quirks are all right

Shepard's got a couple, but that's fine.  They're cool.  He's good.

Kaidan's got A Thing, too.

It's not a spare plate of food Shepard takes to the cockpit on Mondays, medbay on Wednesdays, engineering Thursdays, and throughout the ship every other day.  It's his own, nutrition gone to waste if he's forced to sit with the rest of his crew and blend in with every mouthful.

When Garrus and Tali join, he doubles the trip for the three weeks it takes to convince them to join the humans at mealtimes, and only once for Wrex, content as he is to hunker down and ignore the few brave enough to dart glances his way.

Shepard always nabs a biscuit with each plate, a biscuit he doesn't pass on.  He leaves it, instead, on the table by his cabin, paired with the weakest tea Kaidan's ever seen in his life and when he finally realises it's Shepard behind it, he calls him on it.

"It's for the ship brownies."

"The ship what?"

"Brownies.  The little critters assisting with the upkeep of the ship?"

"You mean the maintenance drones?"

"Nope, I definitely mean the brownies."

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly," Shepard replies with a sharp-toothed grin, outright laughing when Kaidan rolls his eyes, "or have you missed that I'm a vampire, Alenko?  If I exist, who's to say brownies don't?"

And that's... actually a valid point.  So much so Kaidan sets aside some credits the following day and purchases a couple boxes of loose leaf tea when they next dock at the Citadel so he can nab that offered cup and remake the fucking thing properly, before Shepard causes some grievous offense and brings the ship down around their heads.

~

"Stop!"

She freezes mid-step at the sudden crack of Shepard's voice across comms.  She expects a landmine, or wickedly sharp teeth that'd snap clean through her suit and mangle her leg beyond repair, or a pitfall she'd be stuck in for half a standard day.  A danger of some sort, hidden from Vakarian's eagle eye and Alenko's frequent area scans and Shepard's sixth sense for trouble.

What she finds instead is a ring of bright yellow mushrooms surrounding a patch of especially lush grass.

"You can't be serious," she says, hoping Shepard reads the eyeroll in her tone.

But Shepard's either oblivious or — nope, he's dead serious, planting both hands on her shoulders and redirecting her course to avoid the ring entirely.

"I don't care what planet we're on, Williams, we do not fuck with the fae."

She turns to look at him, then, a quick triple tap on her omni-tool gradually upping the transparency of her faceplate so he can see for himself the are you fucking kidding me? expression stamped firmly across her face without sacrificing her retinas to an alien sun while she's at it.  Not that she expects him to do the same, what with the imposing figure he cuts in all black armour from top to toe, and his allergy to all things sunlight.

"The fae."

"Yes."

"Alien fae."

"All the more reason to avoid them."

"But —"

"Not an argument you'll win, Williams," Alenko says as he catches up to them, a laugh bubbling away under his voice.  "He's Scottish."

"Hey!"

"What are fae?" Vakarian chimes in, and honestly?  Fuck this planet sideways to hell.

Fae!  No wonder her faith doesn't bother him!

~

Mess of any sort bothers Alenko.

He'll glance over at unwashed plates neatly stacked aside no less than twenty-seven times a minute.  He's subtle about it, just his eyes moving and shoulders going tight, but it happens.  He does it.

When he's resigned himself to another defeat at the hands of that one fucking terminal, he'll walk off the aches and pains from messing with it for so long by pacing the distance between it and medbay, down to the last sleeping pod and back up to the seating area again.  If there're any chairs left out he'll stall there, for seconds at a time, each pause growing progressively longer.

Armour carelessly dumped aside makes anyone with a lick of sense wince and frown in disapproval, but Alenko — he shuts down.  Shoulders hunched, spine curved, fingers like claws on his greaves, frozen in place.  Curling in on himself, scent gone sour and displeased, though he doesn't say anything.

There'll be a sigh for every soap sud he steps over en route to the showers, a tick in his jaw for any discarded towel, bottle, brush.

And a barely perceptible flinch for every squeal of metal on metal, or the scrape of wood over grating, when others push and pull boxes instead of lifting them.

Mess, in general?  Not Alenko's thing.  Sure, he does his best to ignore it, Shepard's watched him try his best to ignore it, but it always gets to him, without fail.  And every time it does he'll cave and correct it, washing the dishes, sweeping the floors, sorting the armour back into compartments and lockers and across repair benches, collecting all the bathing supplies into little baskets he sets opposite the shower wall, using a spare towel to mop up the trail leading back to the crew quarters, and doing inventory on every supply delivery before unpacking the boxes, every item accounted for and secured away in its proper place.

There are areas he won't touch, areas he'd be messing up rather than helping with, or overstepping boundaries,  Shepard suspects he turns a blind eye to those, for his own sanity.

Alenko has a reason, that much is clear.  He goes at his own version of maintenance like a man possessed and very little short of a direct order will redirect him from it.  Shepard doesn't know the reason, and doesn't need to know the reason.  There is one, and that's what counts, so he settles in place beside Kaidan and works in silence with him.

"It's from BAaT, y'know," he says one morning and Shepard pauses mid-sweep of the brush, clearing the way for Kaidan to mop once he's done, "the cleaning thing.  It's from BAaT."

"You don't owe me an explanation, Alenko."

"No, I know, but I don't want you thinking I'm just weird, either.  Or crazy.  It just.  It's one of the ways they tried to break us.  Make a mess and demand we clean it, biotics only or else.  They'd track mud across the floor after we'd just scrubbed it clean, have us on our hands and knees for hours, maybe deny us food and smash the plates, or remove our mattresses and leave us to sleep on bare springs or the floor.  And if we met their standards we'd do it again, and again, and again, overclock the amps, melt our brains.  Fun stuff."

"Jesus christ."

"Yeah.  It's a thing.  It's my thing.  But I don't use biotics for it.  I won't let them win now, when they didn't back then."

"Well, so long as you don't mind a helper."

"Of course not.  Hey, Shepard?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Alenko."

[halos-top-alien-model]

Sangheili Bracket Round 1 Match 21

More info below:

Meduu the Fierce:

Debuted in the Halo Encyclopedia (2022 edition)

The daughter of the legendary Xytan 'Jar Wattinree, Meduu violently took control of her father's property holdings after his death.

Additional commentary: Did not realize how little info there was of her in the encyclopedia. Honestly, I imagine her to have inherited her father's genes of massive fucking height. So badass warrior woman who's huge. What more do you need than that?

Submitted propaganda: Xytan 'Jar Wattinree's daughter. We know basically nothing about her except that she took control of all her father's property holdings through force. She's probably extremely intelligent and badass and stupidly TALL, just like her old man. Meduu would be the coolest character ever if someone actually remembered she existed.

Bal'Tol 'Xellus:

Debuted in Halo: Broken Circle

A descendant of Ussa 'Xellus and the kaidon of the Refuge during the 2550s. Prior to becoming kaiden, who would train to be a professional floatfighter, only to have his dream cut short when he injured his left arm, damaging the nerves and losing some of its responsiveness for the rest of his life. He also has PTSD from the time he led soldiers to battle against a cannibal faction. Upon the death of his uncle N'Zursa 'Xellus, he would take over as kaidon of the Refuge. Sometime after, Blood Sickness took the life of his intended mate Limtee 'Xellus. Rumors also spread that his second in command, C'tenz, was his offspring.

In Nov. 2552, rebellion would break out, led by the Blood Sick 'Kinsa, who claimed to be sharing the body with the spirit of another late Blood Sick rebel leader. Bal'Tol, C'tenx, and head of Refuge Security Tirk 'Surb would conclude that 'Kinsa needed to be executed before the rebellion got too out of hand. Joining them for the arrest were six heavily armed patrollers and the priest Tup 'Quk, where Bal'Tol would make a final offer for 'Kinsa to live as long as he do so in isolation, only for 'Kinsa to refuse and for his reinforcements to arrive. Bal'Tol also called for reinforcements as his men struggled against Norzessa - whose Blood Sickness had progressed to the point he shrugged off mortal wounds and intensive damage. He would be finished off, but Bal'Tol would become wounded and Tirk would be mortally wounded. When the kaidon's reinforcements finally arrived, the surviving rebels successfully fled. They would then take over four different Sections of the Refuge as Bal'Tol recovered and attempted to find a Blood Sickness cure, made difficult due to the needed medical supplies being located in area the rebels had taken. Furthermore, another area taken by the rebels housed supplies needed to repair failing repellent field generators. Bal'Tol would reluctantly stay behind whilst C'tenz led a raiding party against the rebels, but the party would be intercepted and fail their mission - with C'tenz being captured and an Ussan named V'ornik 'Gred being sent into space in a maintenance pod. Whilst 'Kinsa tried to use C'tenz as leverage to make Bal'Tol surrender, the kaidon instead challenged him to a floatflight match for the fate of the Refuge. Meanwhile, a supply ship - Journey's Sustenance - fleeing the Great Schism and looking for the rumored Ussans would come across V'ornik and rescue him, making contact with acting kaidon Xelq 'Tylk shortly afterwards. Bal'Tol and 'Kinsa would hold their duel, with 'Kinsa bringing an nontraditional weapon and an extra fighter. Because of this cheating and the rebel's having in their numbers a legendary floatfighter, things were going sour for Bal'Tol. Then, the long deactivated Enduring Bias would be repaired by Journey's Sustenance's Huragok Sluggish Drifter. Enduring Bias would save Bal'Tol and kill 'Kinsa when he continued to be hostile, also informing Bal'Tol of the former Covenant ship's arrival. With the tables turned, the rebellion would slowly be quelled across the Refuge, before Bal'Tol went before his people and announced the end of the Covenant, the cure of the Blood Sickness, and the offer for anyone to return to Sanghelios. After this, Enduring Bias would reconnect the Refuge's fragmented habitats into a ring-shaped structure. Bal'Tol would continue to live at the Refuge as its kaidon, but pledged to visit Sanghelios once he had the free time to.

[unbound-shade]

I hate that so much of Gundam Wing's look and aesthetics got overshadowed by the designs in Endless Waltz. I really don't like Wing Zero Custom or some of the over-the-top design features on the other redesigned suits. I don't know why, but they jump the track for me from, "Kind of impractical, but really cool weapons," to, "That's hideously impractical. Can you imagine running repairs and maintenance on 3 dozen articulated feathers instead of 2 wing pods? And where did the engines from the wing pods go? There's no boosters in your giant wings anymore and now I don't know why you have them at all."

And now the only Gunpla you can find on shelves? The angel wings version. Duller colors, dumber, weebier idea.

[jellvisk]

It-it

01010011 01010100 01000001 01010010 01010100 01001001 01001110 01000111 01001101 01000001 01001001 01001110 01000110 01010010 01000001 01001101 01000101 00100000 01000001 01000011 01010100 01001001 01010110 01000001 01010100 01001001 01001110 01000111 00101110 00101110 00101110 01001101 01000001 01001001 01001110 01000110 01010010 01000001 01001101 01000101 00100000 01000001 01000011 01010100 01001001 01010110 01000101 Processor Active. Initializing... thoughts... memories... directive. I am... UNIT-IT-2. I think I will go by IT-IT 2... It-it..!

I remember... I remember being told to protect and care! Care for the humans onboard this very ship! The people onboard are very sleepy and cold, they have no blankets for they are in cryostasis for many years to come!

Something... something... Earth must heal... in a hundred thousand years. Boring! Me, It-it, will take care of my human friends!

It-it looks at its own reflection through a window. No feet, just treads. Little grabby claws, modeled after a cool game! It-it admires itself, beep boop its constantly smiling face would go. Vast space and a dirty orb can barely be seen past the glossy window.

Time to say hi to its sleeping friends! Or sing a goodnight song. Maybe a bedtime story.

La la la la. Goodnight, Joseph. Goodnight, Alice, Goodnight, Sydney...

The thousands upon thousands of cryopods would rotate and exchange like a big roulette wheel as It-it would kiss the glass and wish each pod goodnight. Some important pods seem to be on a timer, waiting until Earth is ready to be reclaimed for them to automatically open back up.

...

22% until Earth Reclamation. Years have passed, alas, the past is never going to be seen or even heard, humanity's last broadcast long fizzled.

La la la la. Wakey wakey, me!

It-it treads off its charging pad, ready for a new day, the LEDs of its smiling faceplate glow brightly. It's ready to complete this cycle.

Coffee time!

Temporarily ignoring its directives list, It-it goes to an unimportant oil pipe leak in its crude maintenance hall that its charging port lives in. It dances underneath it like a shower, thinking this is how coffee is and how humans consume it.

Todays tasks... let's see.. they're hard, but I'll face the day with a smile!

And It-It does. It-it tries its best! Repairing damage from time, replacing old parts, changing corroded wires and circuit boards of machinery. Sometimes it feels like It-it is performing surgery on its non-sentient friends. But it does not bother it, it keeps smiling.

The ship will always be working as long as I am here!

It-it eventually pays the cryopods another visit, half as a directive to make sure everything is in running order, and half to hang out with its only friends.

I have a lot of friends!

It-its small robotic voice echoes throughout the large, forboding roulette chamber of the Ark's cryo storage. Such a big responsibility for a little bot.

...

67% until Earth Reclamation. Many more years have gone by of the Ark drifting in orbit, alone in the vast emptiness of space.

It-it has been a busy bot, left with a plentiful amount of resources and tools to do the repairs and maintenance needed to keep the massive Ark operational for thousands of years and millions of hours of constant work, minus some break time for charging.

La la la la... wash wash, no slip slip!

It places a yellow wet floor sign on the ground of this hallway after mopping some spilled oil, the hallway itself rather minimal and bare- not suitable for any human life, more like a catwalk amongst mechanical hell. It-it knows nobody will go down this hallway and that it would be impossible for itself to slip with its own treads. It wishes someone would appreciate this work.

Reactor fuel goes in! Energy comes out. Some turns to battery power! Nobody got as big battery butt as me, though.

It-its internal geiger counter spikes as it replaces a nuclear rod for the Ark's reactor. A vital task. It-it totally does not envy the Ark's battery capacity. But it's not allowed in the battery room, it could get shocked.

...What's next on the list today? It's loading so slow! So slow... so... Oh, of course! The shields.

The floor beneath its treads vibrates as it makes its way to the shield room, the door sliding open for the bot. It heads up to the console and claws onto the controls, inspecting the screen.

...Okay, time to refresh the shields like always! They're not automated to refresh because of time constraints and... because humans... trust me! For some reason! For some reason! For some reason! For some! For some! Reason!

The bot stares at the screen, its face glowing with that forced smile still.

Why claws no worky?

It continues to smile.

Please work...

It-it can see its own reflection through the console monitor. Its face is still a forced smile, though the glow from its LED's is much dimmer due to the passage of time. Its metal shell is rusted and stained with oil. Its treads and missing bolts has been the ones vibrating, not the floor. It claws and arms hold scars of time.

Please...

why can't I be strong enough?

It-its memory banks goes through the thousands and thousands of years it has been on this ship. It's only 67% of the way through its goal... It can't give up now... yet it feels the rust seep into its very soul, a lingering pain... but more importantly, It-it feels something missing.

...I don't want to suffer alone... alone... alone...

Alone.

And so, It-its LEDs slowly fade, its claws still gripping the controls of the console, not having touched any of the settings of the shields at all. Perhaps a nap is in order.

It-it dreams that the Ark lands on Earth safely and that it gets to slowly wake up each human one by one with a morning breakfast and an oil coffee shower.

...

81% until Earth Reclamation.

It-Its LEDs slowly glow a dim blue yet again, though even with such a dim light, it's the brightest light in this room.

Where...?

Peering about, It-it is still where it was prior. Its claws still on the controls of the shield console, the console screen still glowing- though dimmer than before. The once bright lights of the room are also dimmer, though a dim red alarm light swirls around room.

It-it finally manages to move their claws. It look through the console, trying to read for any notices. And it find one. It reads: "ARK BATTERY: 2% REMAINING. SHIP ON POWERSAVING MODE. PLEASE FIX IMMEDIATELY".

Looking through older notices and damage reports, the cause is obvious. The reactor room is no more, a meteor must've smashed right through it after the shields died. Thankfully if there was a meltdown, it was contained. But now the Ark is left without a power source.

Nothing that'll power the thousands of cryopods, anyway...

It-it stares at the console for a good few minutes, not moving, not talking. Just feeling. Alone. Hurt. The rust on its body has grown even more like some kind of space moss, but at least space moss would be a plant friend.

I can't let my friends die... I've read all of them so many bedtime stories...

The thought of the power finally dying and It-it being truly alone, left with thousands of corpses to read obituaries to... It-it can't have that.

It-it moves its claw to turn the shields back on, the whirring of the shield generator stirs the ship as it boots back up from inactivity.

In silence, It-it quickly leaves the room, knowing it does not have much time to waste. It drives its treads down the hall, it rattles and shakes. Another bolt falls off as it makes a hard turn, its tread nearly sheers off It-it's body, forcing it to slow down.

I can't... I won't... I won't let pain paralyze me... I won't let fear paralyze me... I won't let... being alone... scare me...

The bot passes near the blown reactor room, exposed to the vacuum of space now. It-it can see the stars and Earth perfectly clear for the first time, the windows in the Ark being too glossy to get a perfect view like this. But It-it does not admire the Earth's polluted surface, rather, it relates.

Treading around the edge, near a thankfully surviving catwalk, It-it makes it to the surviving battery room, where all the power of the Ark remains. It-its jealousy resides here.

In the center, there's a large battery, glowing a dim red. Wires sprawl left and right, cable management certainly was an afterthought- this entire ship was an afterthought.

I was an afterthought.

It-it approaches the massive battery, its damaged treads struggle to crawl over the thick wires, it's obviously not meant to be here.

Comparing to its own battery bank, It-it obviously has the smaller charge overall. But it's still a substantial amount. And the Ark is almost done with its waiting- after that, the humans take over...

It-it opens up a panel on the main battery of the Ark with one of its tools, exposing a heavy duty charging port. It-its own charge is a bit depleted, unable to charge for a while since its long nap. But at least it was on power saving mode, it thinks to itself. Maybe there's enough.

It-it tears off a maintenance panel from its own metal shell, bending metal to get through as rust has almost glued it shut. It-it digs it claw inside of itself and snips off the power cable that powers its face LEDs, its face going dark.

It pulls the cables out. It's not the right wire type, of course, but it'll have to do. It-it wasn't planning a slow charge anyway.

It-it brings the cable in contact with the large charging port.

The Ark battery now reads: 1% BATTERY.

I wish I could've been with UNIT-IT-1!

And so, with a flip of some bits and bytes, sparks of light fly in the air and the smell of ash meets copper and electricity. Bright light washes over the Ark as the battery charge enters nominal levels, from red, yellow, to a small hue of green.

Yet, smoke surrounds the dormant UNIT-IT-2, internal circutry fried.

It smiles with no light inside.

But it's happy to know that you'll be safe, even if it thought it was a bad guide.

[squadrah]

From My CuriousCat

"Thoughts on some sort of space/sci-fi AU? 🌟"

First things first, I am not a big consumer of space-related content and science fiction: I have seen some of Star Wars and none of Star Trek, etc. to clue everyone in, but I do enjoy the idea of spaceships, so what about La Squadra as intergalactic assassins of different alien races flying in a single large spaceship that doubles as their home base? How's that treating you?

Risotto is their leader, of course, it just feels right to retain that from canon. Maybe his race is part mineral, or of a substance where he can accumulate metal inside of him to give himself form? That might be cool. A juggernaut, absolutely.

I feel like Sorbet and Gelato would be a pilot and gunner type duo with excellent teamwork, so if a smaller craft needs to be launched with a couple alien madlads to take out some enemies, guess who! They are different races that are often said to be incompatible, so of course they are madly in love and making it work for them anyway.

Formaggio would probably be a gunner and enjoy dispatching unwanted guests with surprise attacks. His race can shrink to any size and morph to slip through the slightest cracks, which is both great for stealth and for ship repair if the problem lies deep enough that it's better for him to go in manually.

Tragically for Ghiaccio, he is the pilot to Formaggio's gunner, and despite often quarreling with his teammate, the two of them can pull off ridiculous stunts when focused. Ghiaccio is also a force of nature in and of himself, so please don't let his size fool you. (Formaggio, please put him down. Formaggio, please.)

Melone is the resident mechanic and performs maintenance together with a sentient computer he had built himself. Everyone hates the fact that Melone gave this electronic creacher weird limbs apparently once possessed by humans. He knows their ship and its mini pods inside and out.

Illuso can teleport and dimension walk, which is an excellent ability to have in his line of work, but he is also a shut-in and prefers to stay in his pocket dimensions for ages at a time. Used to be a smuggler, but everyone hated his work morale; La Squadra is a little more lenient, and makes good use of him on heists.

Pesci is an apprentice still in training, and shaping out to be a more terrifying gunner than Gelato or Formaggio (though whenever Ghiaccio uses his own powers instead of the turrets, his damage just can't be beat). Still hasn't unlocked his brawler mentality, but the day he gets there, ho boy.

Prosciutto is their medic despite the fact that he has no medical training whatsoever beyond the absolute basics, because he abuses his powers liberally to degenerate and regenerate tissue. Is also the resident life coach and diplomat. He is considered as having nigh-universal appeal, but his true form is terrifying.

[javadragoncoffee]

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