#secure data transmission

[amrutmnm]

COVID-19 Impact on Tactical Data Link Market: Recovery and Future Forecast

Tactical Data Link (TDL) systems have become increasingly important for defense and aerospace sectors worldwide. With advancements in modern warfare systems and airspace modernization programs, the Tactical Data Link Market is projected to experience significant growth.

According to recent market reports, the Tactical Data Link market is expected to grow from USD 8.1 billion in 2022 to USD 10.3 billion by 2027, registering a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 4.9% during this period.

In this in-depth blog, we will explore the current state of the Tactical Data Link Industry, the factors driving its growth, challenges, opportunities, and emerging technologies shaping the future of TDL systems.

Understanding Tactical Data Link Systems

Tactical Data Link systems allow real-time data communication between military platforms such as aircraft, ships, ground vehicles, and command centers. By facilitating encrypted, secure communication across a range of military applications, TDLs enhance interoperability among allied forces. This real-time data exchange helps improve decision-making and operational efficiency on the battlefield.

Some of the most common Tactical Data Link protocols include:

Link 16: A secure, jam-resistant communication standard primarily used by NATO forces and allies.

Link 11: A tactical data communication system used by military aircraft, ships, and other platforms.

Link 22: An advanced data communication system designed to replace Link 11, providing enhanced security and interoperability for NATO forces.

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Tactical Data Link Market Size and Growth

The Tactical Data Link market was valued at USD 8.1 billion in 2022 and is projected to reach USD 10.3 billion by 2027. This represents a steady CAGR of 4.9% over the forecast period.

Key Growth Drivers

Rise in Airspace Modernization Programs Airspace modernization is a significant driver of the TDL market, especially in North America and Europe. Countries are investing heavily in upgrading their air traffic control and communication systems to improve efficiency, reduce carbon emissions, and increase safety. Tactical Data Links play a crucial role in enabling these modernized systems to communicate with air traffic managers and provide real-time tracking of military and civilian aircraft.

Emergence of Modern Warfare Systems The nature of warfare is evolving, and modern militaries increasingly rely on network-centric warfare strategies that require rapid, secure communication between platforms. TDLs allow for seamless data sharing, enabling a cohesive response to threats. Modern systems, such as Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs), are increasingly integrating TDLs for real-time information sharing during missions.

Increased Defense Budgets in Key Regions Despite the COVID-19 pandemic’s impact on global defense spending, countries like the U.S., China, and India have maintained or increased their defense budgets, emphasizing secure communication technologies like Tactical Data Links. Rising geopolitical tensions in the Asia-Pacific region, along with increasing investments in defense systems, are fueling demand for advanced TDL systems.

Growth in Unmanned Systems The growing use of unmanned systems, particularly UAVs, in both military and commercial applications is driving demand for TDL systems. These unmanned systems rely on TDLs for communication with command centers, enabling remote operations and improving mission success rates.

Impact of COVID-19 on the Tactical Data Link Market

The COVID-19 pandemic caused disruptions across the defense and aerospace industries. With many countries reallocating defense budgets to manage healthcare crises, several projects involving tactical data links were delayed or put on hold. Furthermore, the global supply chain was disrupted, impacting the production of tactical data link systems and components.

However, as the world recovers from the pandemic, defense spending is expected to rebound, especially in areas related to cybersecurity, secure communications, and network-centric warfare systems.

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Market Restraints

1. Rigorous Military Standards and Regulations

The defense sector operates under strict regulations to ensure the security and integrity of communication systems. TDL solutions must meet rigorous military standards, such as those outlined by NATO. These regulations, while essential for maintaining high security, can slow down the adoption of new technologies and hamper market growth.

2. High Cost of Implementation

The development and deployment of TDL systems involve substantial costs, especially for smaller nations or countries with limited defense budgets. The high cost of procurement, installation, and maintenance of these systems can act as a restraint on market growth, particularly in developing regions.

Opportunities in the Tactical Data Link Market

1. Growing Demand for Enhanced Interoperability

With increasing multinational military operations, the need for enhanced interoperability between allied forces has become more important than ever. Tactical Data Links that enable seamless communication between different platforms and forces will see rising demand, particularly as more countries join international coalitions like NATO. TDL systems such as Link 16, which allow secure, encrypted communication between allied forces, are in high demand for this reason.

2. Adoption of Cognitive Radio Technology

Cognitive radios are an emerging technology that has the potential to transform tactical data links. These radios can automatically detect available frequencies and establish communication links, making them more efficient than traditional radios. As cognitive radios become more advanced, they could provide an important competitive advantage in the TDL market, especially for military applications.

3. Expansion in the Asia-Pacific Region

The Asia-Pacific region is expected to experience the fastest growth in the TDL market during the forecast period, with a projected CAGR of 4.18%. Countries such as China, India, and Japan are increasing their defense spending to modernize their military capabilities, and secure communication systems like TDLs are a crucial part of this strategy. Rising geopolitical tensions in the region further underscore the need for advanced communication systems.

Challenges Facing the Tactical Data Link Market

1. Lack of Skilled Workforce

The successful implementation of Tactical Data Link systems requires highly skilled personnel for tasks such as software development, system integration, and maintenance. However, many developing countries in regions such as Africa and South Asia face a shortage of technically skilled workers, which could hinder the adoption of TDL systems in these regions.

2. Spectrum Management Issues

Tactical Data Links operate within limited frequency ranges, and spectrum management is a critical challenge for defense organizations. As the number of communication systems operating in the same frequency bands increases, managing the spectrum becomes more complex. Cognitive radios offer a potential solution to this challenge, but they are still in the development phase.

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Market Segmentation and Trends

1. By Platform

The TDL market is segmented by platform into ground, airborne, naval, and unmanned systems. The unmanned systems segment is expected to grow at the highest CAGR of 6.4% during the forecast period, driven by the increasing use of UAVs for both military and commercial purposes.

2. By Component

The market is segmented by component into hardware, software, and services. The product (hardware) segment is expected to command the largest market share, growing from USD 5.3 billion in 2022 to USD 6.8 billion by 2027. The rising demand for advanced communication products is driving this growth.

3. By Point of Sale

Based on point of sale, the TDL market is divided into original equipment manufacturers (OEM) and aftermarket. The OEM segment is expected to dominate the market, as many military organizations prefer to source TDL solutions directly from manufacturers to ensure compatibility with existing systems.

Competitive Landscape

The Tactical Data Link market is dominated by Key Players such as Collins Aerospace (US), L3Harris Technologies (US), ViaSat (US), Thales Group (France), and General Dynamics Corporation (US). These companies are investing heavily in research and development to create advanced communication solutions that meet the evolving needs of modern militaries.

Recent Developments

Thales Group: In May 2022, Thales won a contract from the U.S. Army to deliver advanced tactical radios under the Combat Net Radio modernization program.

L3Harris Technologies: In May 2022, L3Harris secured an increased contract for its Falcon IV AN/PRC-167 radio systems, signaling growing demand for its tactical communication solutions.

The Tactical Data Link market is poised for significant growth, driven by advancements in military communication systems, airspace modernization, and rising defense budgets in key regions. Despite challenges such as stringent regulations and the high cost of implementation, the market offers substantial opportunities for innovation, particularly with the development of cognitive radios and increasing interoperability demands.

With major players such as Collins Aerospace, L3Harris, and Thales at the forefront, the TDL market will continue to evolve, offering new solutions that meet the complex communication needs of modern warfare. As the world becomes more interconnected, secure and efficient communication through Tactical Data Links will remain a top priority for defense organizations globally.

[thedbahub]

Implementing SSL Certificates on SQL Server Database Operations

When you’re planning to introduce an SSL certificate for securing connections to your SQL server, primarily for a new third-party application, it’s like making sure your home’s front door has a good lock. Just as the lock on the front door enhances security for the entire house without requiring new keys for every room, adding an SSL certificate focuses on securing the communication channels…

[jasminesanders8807]

Exploring the Benefits of Psync's Two-Way Audio Camera

In today's world, home security is more important than ever, and Psync is leading the charge with its innovative Two-Way Audio Camera. This cutting-edge device not only allows you to monitor your home in real-time, but it also enables seamless communication with family members or pets from anywhere.

The Two-Way Audio feature is a game changer. It provides peace of mind by allowing you to check in on your loved ones and speak to them directly through the camera. Whether you're at work, on vacation, or just in another room, you can always stay connected.

Psync's cameras are designed with user-friendly technology that makes installation a breeze. With high-definition video quality and night vision capabilities, you can have clear visibility around the clock. The sleek design ensures that the camera fits perfectly into any home decor.

Moreover, Psync prioritizes security and privacy. The camera's encrypted data transmission ensures that your footage is safe from unauthorized access. You can enjoy the benefits of advanced home security without worrying about potential breaches.

In summary, Psync's Two-Way Audio Camera is an excellent investment for anyone looking to enhance their home security system. With its interactive features and superior design, it's a fantastic choice for keeping your home and loved ones safe.

[electricalinsightsdaily]

RN42 Bluetooth Module: A Comprehensive Guide

The RN42 Bluetooth module was developed by Microchip Technology. It’s designed to provide Bluetooth connectivity to devices and is commonly used in various applications, including wireless communication between devices.

Features Of RN42 Bluetooth Module

The RN42 Bluetooth module comes with several key features that make it suitable for various wireless communication applications. Here are the key features of the RN42 module:

Bluetooth Version:

The RN42 module is based on Bluetooth version 2.1 + EDR (Enhanced Data Rate).

Profiles:

Supports a range of Bluetooth profiles including Serial Port Profile (SPP), Human Interface Device (HID), Audio Gateway (AG), and others. The availability of profiles makes it versatile for different types of applications.

Frequency Range:

Operates in the 2.4 GHz ISM (Industrial, Scientific, and Medical) band, the standard frequency range for Bluetooth communication.

Data Rates:

Offers data rates of up to 3 Mbps, providing a balance between speed and power consumption.

Power Supply Voltage:

Operates with a power supply voltage in the range of 3.3V to 6V, making it compatible with a variety of power sources.

Low Power Consumption:

Designed for low power consumption, making it suitable for battery-powered applications and energy-efficient designs.

Antenna Options:

Provides options for both internal and external antennas, offering flexibility in design based on the specific requirements of the application.

Interface:

Utilizes a UART (Universal Asynchronous Receiver-Transmitter) interface for serial communication, facilitating easy integration with microcontrollers and other embedded systems.

Security Features:

Implements authentication and encryption mechanisms to ensure secure wireless communication.

Read More: RN42 Bluetooth Module

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hi! I hope this ok but I was wondering if you could do a spicy fic with Tech, maybe he gets flustered whenever she’s near and his brothers try to help by getting you do stuff and help him.

Hope you have a great weekend!

“Terminally Yours”

Tech x Reader

Tech was a genius—analytical, composed, articulate.

Until you walked into a room.

You’d joined the Bad Batch on a temporary mission as a communications specialist. The job should have been straightforward. Decode enemy transmissions, secure Republic relays, leave. What you hadn’t planned for was the quiet, bespectacled clone who dropped his hydrospanner every time you got too close.

You leaned over the console, fingers flying across the keypad as you rerouted the relay node Tech had said was “performing with suboptimal efficiency.” You were deep into the override sequence when a clatter behind you made you jump.

Clank.

Tech’s hydrospanner had hit the floor. Again.

You turned, brows raised. “You okay there, Tech?”

He cleared his throat, pushing his goggles up the bridge of his nose as he bent down awkwardly to retrieve the tool. “Yes. Quite. Merely dropped it due to… a temporary lapse in grip strength.”

Hunter’s voice echoed from the cockpit. “More like a temporary lapse in brain function. That’s the fourth time today.”

You smirked and returned to the console. Tech didn’t reply.

⸻

You sat beside Omega, poking at your rations. Tech was on the far end of the table, clearly trying not to look your way while also tracking your every move like a nervous datapad with legs.

“You know,” Omega said loudly, “Tech said he wants help cleaning the data arrays in the cockpit. He said you’re the only one who knows how to handle them.”

Your brow arched. “He did?”

At the other end of the table, Tech choked on his food.

Echo smirked. “Pretty sure that’s not what he said, Omega.”

“It is,” she insisted with wide, innocent eyes. “I asked him who he’d want help from, and he said her name first.”

Wrecker grinned. “And then he blushed!”

“I did not,” Tech muttered, voice strangled.

You bit back a grin. “Well, I am good with arrays…”

Hunter looked at Tech, then at you, then back at his food like it was the most fascinating thing in the galaxy.

⸻

You found Tech alone at the terminal, his fingers flying over the keys. You stepped up beside him, arms brushing.

He froze mid-keystroke.

“I figured I’d help with the arrays,” you said, voice low, letting your hand rest against the console a little closer than necessary. “Since you said I was the best candidate.”

His ears turned red. “That was… an extrapolated hypothetical. I did not anticipate you would take Omega’s report so… literally.”

You leaned in, letting your shoulder press against his. “Is that going to be a problem?”

He inhaled sharply. “I—no. Not at all.”

You brushed your fingers along the edge of the screen, pretending to study the data. “Because I don’t mind helping you, Tech. I actually like working close to you. You’re… brilliant. Kind of cute when you’re flustered, too.”

He blinked behind his goggles. “I—um—I do not often receive comments of that nature—cute, I mean. That is to say—thank you.”

His fingers twitched nervously. You reached over to rest your hand over his.

“You’re welcome. And if you ever want to drop your hydrospanner again to get my attention, Tech, just say something next time.”

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

⸻

Wrecker, Omega, and Echo crouched behind a supply crate, straining to hear.

“Did she touch his hand?” Omega whispered excitedly.

“Pretty sure she did more than that,” Echo muttered.

Wrecker pumped a fist in the air. “I told you! Get her close enough and boom—Tech-meltdown!”

They high-fived, right before the door to the cockpit opened and you walked out.

You stopped.

They froze.

“…Were you all spying?”

“Uh,” Omega said.

Echo cleared his throat. “More like… observing.”

“Scientific purposes,” Wrecker added. “Real important stuff.”

You rolled your eyes and walked away—but you didn’t miss the grin Echo gave Tech as he slipped inside the cockpit next.

“You owe me ten credits.”

Tech pushed his goggles up. “Worth every credit.”

[willowwindss]

100 Inventions by Women

LIFE-SAVING/MEDICAL/GLOBAL IMPACT:

Artificial Heart Valve – Nina Starr Braunwald

Stem Cell Isolation from Bone Marrow – Ann Tsukamoto

Chemotherapy Drug Research – Gertrude Elion

Antifungal Antibiotic (Nystatin) – Rachel Fuller Brown & Elizabeth Lee Hazen

Apgar Score (Newborn Health Assessment) – Virginia Apgar

Vaccination Distribution Logistics – Sara Josephine Baker

Hand-Held Laser Device for Cataracts – Patricia Bath

Portable Life-Saving Heart Monitor – Dr. Helen Brooke Taussig

Medical Mask Design – Ellen Ochoa

Dental Filling Techniques – Lucy Hobbs Taylor

Radiation Treatment Research – Cécile Vogt

Ultrasound Advancements – Denise Grey

Biodegradable Sanitary Pads – Arunachalam Muruganantham (with women-led testing teams)

First Computer Algorithm – Ada Lovelace

COBOL Programming Language – Grace Hopper

Computer Compiler – Grace Hopper

FORTRAN/FORUMAC Language Development – Jean E. Sammet

Caller ID and Call Waiting – Dr. Shirley Ann Jackson

Voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP) – Marian Croak

Wireless Transmission Technology – Hedy Lamarr

Polaroid Camera Chemistry / Digital Projection Optics – Edith Clarke

Jet Propulsion Systems Work – Yvonne Brill

Infrared Astronomy Tech – Nancy Roman

Astronomical Data Archiving – Henrietta Swan Leavitt

Nuclear Physics Research Tools – Chien-Shiung Wu

Protein Folding Software – Eleanor Dodson

Global Network for Earthquake Detection – Inge Lehmann

Earthquake Resistant Structures – Edith Clarke

Water Distillation Device – Maria Telkes

Portable Water Filtration Devices – Theresa Dankovich

Solar Thermal Storage System – Maria Telkes

Solar-Powered House – Mária Telkes

Solar Cooker Advancements – Barbara Kerr

Microbiome Research – Maria Gloria Dominguez-Bello

Marine Navigation System – Ida Hyde

Anti-Malarial Drug Work – Tu Youyou

Digital Payment Security Algorithms – Radia Perlman

Wireless Transmitters for Aviation – Harriet Quimby

Contributions to Touchscreen Tech – Dr. Annette V. Simmonds

Robotic Surgery Systems – Paula Hammond

Battery-Powered Baby Stroller – Ann Moore

Smart Textile Sensor Fabric – Leah Buechley

Voice-Activated Devices – Kimberly Bryant

Artificial Limb Enhancements – Aimee Mullins

Crash Test Dummies for Women – Astrid Linder

Shark Repellent – Julia Child

3D Illusionary Display Tech – Valerie Thomas

Biodegradable Plastics – Julia F. Carney

Ink Chemistry for Inkjet Printers – Margaret Wu

Computerised Telephone Switching – Erna Hoover

Word Processor Innovations – Evelyn Berezin

Braille Printer Software – Carol Shaw

⸻

HOUSEHOLD & SAFETY INNOVATIONS:

Home Security System – Marie Van Brittan Brown

Fire Escape – Anna Connelly

Life Raft – Maria Beasley

Windshield Wiper – Mary Anderson

Car Heater – Margaret Wilcox

Toilet Paper Holder – Mary Beatrice Davidson Kenner

Foot-Pedal Trash Can – Lillian Moller Gilbreth

Retractable Dog Leash – Mary A. Delaney

Disposable Diaper Cover – Marion Donovan

Disposable Glove Design – Kathryn Croft

Ice Cream Maker – Nancy Johnson

Electric Refrigerator Improvements – Florence Parpart

Fold-Out Bed – Sarah E. Goode

Flat-Bottomed Paper Bag Machine – Margaret Knight

Square-Bottomed Paper Bag – Margaret Knight

Street-Cleaning Machine – Florence Parpart

Improved Ironing Board – Sarah Boone

Underwater Telescope – Sarah Mather

Clothes Wringer – Ellene Alice Bailey

Coffee Filter – Melitta Bentz

Scotchgard (Fabric Protector) – Patsy Sherman

Liquid Paper (Correction Fluid) – Bette Nesmith Graham

Leak-Proof Diapers – Valerie Hunter Gordon

FOOD/CONVENIENCE/CULTURAL IMPACT:

Chocolate Chip Cookie – Ruth Graves Wakefield

Monopoly (The Landlord’s Game) – Elizabeth Magie

Snugli Baby Carrier – Ann Moore

Barrel-Style Curling Iron – Theora Stephens

Natural Hair Product Line – Madame C.J. Walker

Virtual Reality Journalism – Nonny de la Peña

Digital Camera Sensor Contributions – Edith Clarke

Textile Color Processing – Beulah Henry

Ice Cream Freezer – Nancy Johnson

Spray-On Skin (ReCell) – Fiona Wood

Langmuir-Blodgett Film – Katharine Burr Blodgett

Fish & Marine Signal Flares – Martha Coston

Windshield Washer System – Charlotte Bridgwood

Smart Clothing / Sensor Integration – Leah Buechley

Fibre Optic Pressure Sensors – Mary Lou Jepsen

[mariacallous]

Speaking at a mining convention in Toronto on Monday, Ontario Premier Doug Ford said the province would back the country’s united response to President Donald Trump’s 25% tariffs ― even if that means cutting off electricity to the United States.

“If they want to try to annihilate Ontario, I will do everything, including cut off their energy, with a smile on my face,” Ford said. “They rely on our energy, they need to feel the pain. They want to come at us hard, we’re going to come back twice as hard.”

The premier doubled down on that message Tuesday as he fielded questions from reporters while standing behind a podium reading, “Canada is not for sale.” Instead of mutual prosperity and security, said Ford, “one man — President Trump — has chosen chaos.”

“Now we have no choice: We have to respond,” he said.

According to data tracked by the U.S. Energy Information Administration, Canada exported $3.2 billion worth of power to the United States in 2023. Power transmission between the two countries plays a critical role in balancing the grid and ensuring system reliability.

Ford has also threatened to cut off nickel exports to the U.S., which relied on Ontario for 46% of its supply of the metal last year. Nickel plays a crucial role in making stainless steel.

In a follow-up conversation with CNN, Ford apologized to the American people while explaining his plans to, if need be, cut off electricity from Ontario that powers 1.5 million U.S. households in New York, Michigan and Minnesota.

“This is unnecessary, and we do have to retaliate, and I apologize to the American people. It’s not you, it’s your president that’s causing this problem,” he said.

“President Trump ran on a mandate to lower costs, to create more jobs. This is going to do exactly the opposite.”

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau responded to Trump’s tariffs with a retaliatory 25% tariff on $30 billion worth of U.S. goods, calling out Trump directly for what Trudeau called his “very dumb” tariff policy.

[covid-safer-hotties]

New COVID Variant XEC May Outpace Others This Fall - Published Sept 18, 2024

"The virus is always going to be mutating away from what it was in order to get more efficient at infecting individuals," Adalja said. "So I think this really highlights the fact that a universal COVID vaccine, or some vaccine with different technologies, perhaps a nasal vaccine and using mucosal immunity, all of those things are important."

What if, get this, we prevented covid cases by improving ventilation, mandating air filtration, and wearing masks in public? Wouldn't that accomplish the same goal right now? Every mutation takes us further away from the current scientific fantasy of a universal covid vaccine. We have to stop cases to make this dream a reality.

by Sophie Putka

The new COVID-19 variant XEC may overtake others in circulation to become dominant in the coming months, experts said, but will not prompt a meaningful change in symptoms or vaccine response.

So far, the CDC's variant proportions tracker has not registered enough cases of XEC in the U.S. to report it. (The agency's projected estimates for the 2 weeks ending in September 14 currently show KP.3.1.1 and KP.2.3 as the leading variants, with 52.7% and 12.2% of national cases, respectively.) Another estimate using data from the variant tracker GISAID has XEC at 1.11% of U.S. cases as of September 15, with around 48 sequences reported.

First detected in Germany in June, it's been found mostly in Central Europe, representing 10% of cases, according to the U.K.'s Science Media Centre.

"XEC represents a fairly minor evolution relative to the SARS-CoV-2 diversity currently in circulation, and is not a highly derived novel variant such as those that were granted Greek letters," like Alpha, Delta, and Omicron, Francois Balloux, PhD, a computational biologist at University College London and director of the UCL Genetics Institute, said in a Science Media Centre statement.

Experts noted that while XEC may have a small advantage in transmission, available vaccines are still likely to provide protection from serious illness.

XEC is a "recombinant variant of some of the other Omicron lineages that have been around for a while, and it does appear to be more immune evasive, giving it a transmissibility advantage in the population with the immunity that it has," Amesh Adalja, MD, of the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security in Baltimore, told MedPage Today. "But it doesn't really change anything, just like the last variant didn't change anything, or the one before that, one before that, or the one before that."

Currently available COVID vaccines target slightly different subvariants. The updated mRNA shots aimed at KP.2 from Pfizer-BioNTech (Comirnaty) and Moderna (Spikevax), as well as Novavax's vaccine targeting the JN.1 variant lineage, are still protective against the most serious consequences of COVID infections, experts said.

"If this becomes a dominant variant, it will decrease the efficacy against infection of the updated vaccines, but the updated vaccines will still be durable against severe disease [and] hospitalization, and that's what is really the primary function of our current, first-generation COVID vaccines," Adalja said.

Still, he emphasized, the rapid mutation of the virus underscores a need for a different kind of vaccine than those currently available if the goal is to protect against infection rather than just severe disease.

"The virus is always going to be mutating away from what it was in order to get more efficient at infecting individuals," Adalja said. "So I think this really highlights the fact that a universal COVID vaccine, or some vaccine with different technologies, perhaps a nasal vaccine and using mucosal immunity, all of those things are important."

[khanhannahlewis]

for the ask thing:

📝 plot idea: Khan Lewis meets the autonomous Cataphract for the first time, maybe by discovering communications between the Cataphract and Melissa/others??

What do you think?

“My Khan, there was an instance of flagged keywords in today's HPG network report. The relevant details are included in this file.”

The Watch adjutant slides a disk across Hannah’s desk.

Hannah slides it in, and checks the data. “Autonomous Battlemechs”. Hannah is, as those close to her know, distrusting of science, scientists, and the cutting edge of a number of research fields. She also likes to know what’s going on, and what everyone is doing, both among her friends and enemies. So when a semi-public ping request to the highest authority possible (do not show this data to the ilKhan, he would throw a tantrum), which was picked up by the Commanding General of the SLDF, mentions autonomous anything, Hannah likes to know.

“See if you can get me a secured line to the HPG and ping the sender of this message. This is quite a bit of back and forth transmissions between Melissa and this sender, as well as some data tagged as being from the moon too.”

The Watch agent salutes and backs out of the office, and Hannah turns to the HPG user interface as it opens to a new secure line.

[imitationgame77]

Pinging and Tapping

In the world of the Murderbot Diaries, communication is often conducted via comm and feed. Generally, comm is used when internal network is not available, or when one is trying to communicate across space, and feed is used when people are on the same network and allow each other access.

We also often see “pings” and “taps” as a way of quick communication.

Generally, pings are used for comm communications, and taps are used for feed communications, but there seem to be different purposes. Here are what we can gather from the story, and also from real life examples.

[Pings]

Purpose in the MB world:

Pings are typically used for signalling, checking connectivity, and getting responses from other systems or units. They act like a way to see if the other side is present and ready to communicate or respond.

Purpose in Real Life:

Network Connectivity: In computer networks, a "ping" is a diagnostic tool used to test the reachability of a host on an Internet Protocol (IP) network. It measures the round-trip time for messages sent from the originating host to a destination computer.

Usage in the MB World:

Status Checks: Used to check if systems, such as satellites, drones, or transports, are active and responsive. For example, pinging a satellite to see if it responds​​.

Communication Initiation: Used to start communication with other systems, often to establish a connection or share data. For instance, pinging a transport to offer media files in exchange for a ride​​.

Detection: Used by systems to detect the presence of specific units, like SecUnits, without direct contact​​.

Usage in Real Life:

ICMP Echo Request/Reply: The ping command sends an ICMP (Internet Control Message Protocol) Echo Request message to the target host and waits for an ICMP Echo Reply.

Network Troubleshooting: Used to determine if a particular host is reachable and to measure the latency between the source and destination.

[Taps]

Purpose in the MB World:

Taps are used more for internal communication within the network or feed. They serve as a means to acknowledge, signal actions, or provide private communication without verbal interaction.

Purpose in Real Life:

Internal Communication: In many systems, "taps" or similar mechanisms are used to signal and communicate internally within a network or system.

Usage in the MB World:

Acknowledgments: Used to acknowledge received messages or instructions. For instance, tapping back an acknowledgment to confirm receipt of instructions​​.

Private Communication: Used to send private or secure messages within the feed, often to communicate specific commands or information discreetly. For example, tapping the feed to communicate privately with another character without others listening in​​.

Control Signals: Used to signal or control actions within the feed, like tapping to instruct a character to fall back or take specific actions​​.

Usage in Real Life:

Signalling Mechanisms: Within computer systems, taps can be analogous to various signalling mechanisms like inter-process communication (IPC), which includes methods such as semaphores, shared memory, and message queues.

Acknowledgments and Control Signals: In networking, control signals and acknowledgments are crucial for managing data flow and ensuring reliable communication. For example, TCP (Transmission Control Protocol) uses acknowledgments to confirm the receipt of data packets.

Network Taps: In the context of network security, a "network tap" is a device that allows access to data flowing across a network for monitoring and analysis.​​.

[Comparison]

In both the fictional world of Murderbot Diaries and real life, pings are primarily used for external signalling and connectivity checks, while taps are used for internal communication and control within the feed network

-------------------------------------------------

[Something Worth Noting]

There are some instances where taps seem more reasonable, but pings are used instead.

In Artificial Condition when Murderbot was watching Sanctuary Moon, and ART was trying to get its attention, asking to watch World Hoppers together. (see Artificial Condition, Pings, 5, 6 my AO3)

In Network Effect, when Murderbot finds that a hostile vessel (i.e. ART) was approaching and notifies the team quickly (see Network Effect, Pings, 1 my AO3)

In Network Effect, when Murderbot was locking itself up in the bathroom (see Network Effect, Pings, 11, 12 my AO3)

In Network Effect, when ART requested a private connection (see Network Effect, Pings, 13 my AO3)

In Network Effect, when Amena comes along with Murderbot to investigate Barish-Estranza shuttle, but is told to wait outside. She offers to help to which Murderbot pings acknowledgement (see Network Effect, Pings, 14 my AO3)

At the end of System Collapse when Murderbot pinged Three to ask if it wanted to listen to Holism explain planetary infrastructure (see System Collapse, Pings 15 my AO3)

Of these, 1, 3, 4 are where ART was sending pings to Murderbot. This is actually quite sweet, because we can tell that ART is being very polite to Murderbot. ART is fully capable of slamming into Murderbot’s private feed, but in all of these occasions, Murderbot has been rejecting feed communication which it reserves for friends and clients. ART is respecting this.

Instance 2 is unusual, and I am not 100% sure why Murderbot chose to use ping here. But since it was emergency, and ping is a protocol where it receives automatic response if it had been received at the other end, it was sufficient for its purposes.

When we read the context in which 5 happens we notice that Murderbot is now inside the B-E shuttle, and for security reasons, ART had cut it off from the feed network. So, Murderbot has the options of either verbally answering to Amena, or sending a ping for acknowledgement, and it chose the latter.

In instance 6, Murderbot seems to be being polite to Three who is busy (?) watching educational media. They are cordial to each other, but because Three is still not used to being a free SecUnit, Murderbot is being more careful around it.

--------------

If you are willing to be bored to death, you can see my AO3 post for the list of all the instances where pinging and tapping happen!

[milkywayhou]

YOU'VE GOT EMAIL (König X OC: Medical Student!Snow) PART I

Summary: When the Colonel from some Private Military Corporation group accidentally send KorTac's secret file via email to a random civilian girl.

or

König send wrong email to a wrong person

TWs: A lot curse words (from Snow), both of them being passive-aggressive, slow burn (kinda). I just wrote this for fun

Words Count: 3k (That's a lot for an email lol)

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

02/28/23 at 03:42 pm

Subject: KorTac Tactical Operations File E12345 Classification: Top Secret

Lieutenant,

Apologies for the inappropriate transmission. As head of KorTac Special Forces, securing sensitive documents is of utmost priority. Please confirm deletion of the attached file and we’ll consider the matter closed.

While I understand your confusion receiving such a file unsolicited, KorTac business must remain confidential. I trust a responsible professional such as yourself understands the necessity of discretion in such matters. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if any other issues arise.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

02/28/23 at 07:12 pm

Subject: RE: Creepy email

Excuse me,

I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I know is I got some weird files from “KorTac Tactical” that I definitely did NOT ask for. Do you know how scary it is to get secret military documents out of nowhere? I thought it was one of my friends pranking me at first.

Instead of lecturing me about deleting things, maybe you should be more careful who you send your “top secret” info to. I’m just trying to study neurology over here, not get dragged into some clandestine Special Forces stuff.

Lighten up a little, yeah? It was an honest mistake I’m sure. No harm done.

Snow

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

02/28/23 at 08:02 pm

Subject: RE: RE: Creepy email

Ms. Farron,

I can assure you there was no “creepy email” or files sent from this office. As Commander of one of the world’s premier private military factions, securing classified intel is of utmost priority. If some file was erroneously transmitted to your address in error, it did not originate from my users.

While I understand the desire to shrug off mistakenly received sensitive documents, national security does not warrant such lackadaisical treatment. If you have relevant data in your possession, basic courtesy requires replying to the original correspondent – in this case, myself – to ascertain the source of error.

Do let me know if you retrieve any files in question. And in future, a bit more discretion and less indignation may serve you well when inadvertently encountering restricted information networks. Consider this a learning experience.

Regards,

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

02/28/23 at 08:22 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Creepy email

Hi Colonel Tightpants,

Thank you for the condescending lecture. As I’ve said THREE times now, I never got any files from you or KorTac or wherever before. All I know is I woke up to an ominous email saying “Top Secret KorTac files” or something. Pretty annoying/alarming for a simple student!

And excuse me for not dropping everything to thoroughly investigate a mistake that wasn’t even mine. Some of us have actual classes to study for, not play secret agent all day.

If you’re so worried about security breaches, maybe focus on your end instead of harassing innocent people via multiple snobby emails. I’ve got better things to do than argue in circles with Mr. High-and-Mighty.

Please remove me from your contact list going forward. And do try to lighten up a little!

Regards,

Snow

P.S. The file is attached. I called it “Creepy Email From Creepy Colonel” for your convenience. Have fun decrypting your own mystery ;)

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

02/28/23 at 09:42 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Creepy email

Ms. Farron,

I will not be spoken to in such a disrespectful and unprofessional manner. While your frustrations are understandable, maintaining proper decorum and respect for sensitive operational matters is not an optional courtesy – it is imperative.

You’re accusations of “harassment” are as unfounded as they are insulting. Do not mistake my patience and courtesy thus far for weakness. Should any real documents surface from my network in error, I expect their immediate return without petulant games or sass.

As a private military organization operating across the globe, security is no light concern for this command. If unable to grasp even the basic responsibility of confirming received documents' origins for the sake of national safety, perhaps the world of intelligence is beyond your current realm of comprehension.

Consider this your final warning. Any further unsubstantiated claims or uncooperative behavior will be met with the full weight of legal action and your academic institution will be notified accordingly. Is that absolutely clear, Ms. Farron?

Reply confirming so or cease contact immediately. I will not tolerate insubordination, especially from an civilian amateur dabbling where she has no clearance. Maintain discretion as instructed or suffer consequences – the choice is yours.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/01/23 at 09:29 am

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Creepy Email

Colonel High-Horse,

Spare me your thinly veiled threats. If you’re so sure I have hide some Top Secret Files™, by all means come search my dorm room yourself since you clearly don’t believe a word I say. Oh wait, you can’t – because there’s NOTHING.

Maybe take a break from power tripping over email and try listening to the person who’s actually involved for once. Not my fault if your big bad security systems have holes. But I guess acknowledging mistakes isn’t very military, is it?

You wanna see uncooperative and petulant? Keep harassing me and I’ll forward our whole conversation to the national news. Something tells me they’d love to hear how easily “the world’s premier private military” loses confidential files.

So for the last time – I did NOT receive ANY files from you or KorTac aside the one you accidentally send. If you’re incapable of comprehending that, then you’re dumber than you look. Consider THIS your final warning to lay off before I take action, Colonel Tightass.

Snow

Formerly Civilian, Currently Pissed Off

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

03/01/23 at 08:55 am

Subject: Enough

Ms. Farron,

Your insubordination has crossed several lines. While I sought to resolve this discreetly, you force my hand with threats and insults. Know that I do not respond kindly to such provocation.

If you insist upon escalating this beyond reason, so be it. However, tread carefully – you are ignorant of forces beyond your control. Dare to sully KorTac’s name to fuel your petulance, and all your academic and personal records will undergo… thorough review.

Accidents happen, as you claim. But any damage to our operations will not be taken lightly, no matter your perceived innocence. Heed my words well, girl – you do not wish to become an enemy of this command.

Consider this last attempt at civil discourse. Cease contact and let this die, or suffer consequences you cannot imagine. The choice, as before, remains yours.

I expect no further correspondence. You are now on formal notice – proceed at your own peril.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/01/23 at 11:38 pm

Subject: Go to Hell

You want a fight, you’ll get one you pompous prick. Your “command” and threats mean nothing to me.

If anything happens to my academic career or personal life, the world will know exactly who’s responsible. I don’t care how elite you think you are.

Bring whatever you’ve got – I’m not afraid of some borderline psychotic and his glorified gun club. You want a target? Consider it painted on your back from now on.

Have fun trying to intimidate me, ASSHOLE. You just made the worst enemy of your pathetic life.

Goodbye forever. Don’t bother responding – you’re officially dead to me.

Snow Farron

Future Doctor, Current Pain in Your Ass

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

03/02/23 at 01:29 am

Subject: So Be It

Foolish girl. You have no concept of the forces you now contend with. Consider carefully the hole you’ve dug, for there will be no mercy if you proceed.

However, my integrity will not permit baseless threats against civilians. If you agree to cease hostilities and let this dissolve quietly, no further action will be taken. Your record and life will remain untouched.

The choice is simple – walk away unscathed, or persist in this idiocy and face consequences beyond imagination. Think carefully on your next move, little one. Tread no further, and this can end.

You have one hour for a sensible reply before measures are taken. Make them count.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/03/23 at 02:04 am

Subject: Bite Me

Yeah, I’m real scared of your “forces” and “consequences beyond imagination.” Give me a break.

You think I’m going to bow down to your threats just because you’re some big shot Colonel? Please. I’ve dealt with way scarier than pompous bully babies like you.

So do your worst, tough guy. Come at me with everything you’ve got. I promise it still won’t be enough to make me back down from a pissant fraud like you.

Your “hour” can go fuck itself. You want to end this? Then stay the hell away from me and leave me alone forever. Otherwise this isn’t over by a long shot.

Tick tock, pal. Your time is running out and so is your chance to slink away with your tail between your legs. Better figure out your next move fast!

Not holding my breath for anything “sensible” though. Later, loser!

Snow “Untouchable” Farron

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/05/23 at 11:09 pm

Subject: wassup bitchhhhh

Hey asshooooole its ur girl Snow again!! Had a few dranks w/ friends to forget ur stupid email but the pain remainsss lolll

Jus wanted to let u kno ur still a total dickhead no matter how drunk I get. Probly shouldn’t be emailing u since last time but fuck it YOLO right???

Anyway ur threats meant nothing I had a blast tonight. Try n stop me next time I feel like partying fuck face!!! No1 messes w snow n gets away with it

Also saw some guy who looked like u at the bar what a coincidink lol. Hope he feels as stupid as u in the morn ;))

Hope ur having a shit night missing out on the fun. Don’t reply I prob wont even remember this! Byeeeeeee loser stay mad <33333

Xoxo drunk snow

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

03/06/23 at 01:50 am

Subject: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Well well, what have we here. It seems our intrepid Dr. Farron has landed herself in an inebriated state this night.

Can’t say I blame you for seeking alcohol’s comfort after our little disagreement. Dealing with my “stupid emails” and “threats” must have been terribly traumatic. You have my deepest sympathies, truly.

While unwise to conduct militarized business intoxicated, I’ll admit your drunken ramblings provided some mild amusement. The imagery of you partying it up solely to spite me was rather quaint. Do try to stay safe in your revelries, dear – would hate for some unfortunate accident.

As for your daring insinuation about encountering my likeness at a bar, I can assure you my nights are occupied with matters far more pressing than drinking. But I appreciate the laugh, strange as it came from such a belligerent tongue.

Enjoy your hangover, Snow. And sleep well – who knows what mischief tomorrow may bring.

Regards,

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

P.S. Do refrain from over-indulging too often. Wouldn’t want those fine medical skills to dull prematurely, now would we?

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/06/23 at 05:28 am

Subject: RE: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Yeah yeah, laugh it up. We all do dumb shit when we’re drunk occasionally. At least I have an excuse, unlike you and your constant stick up the ass personality.

That being said, I suppose I owe you an apology for that ridiculous email last night. Not my finest moment, to say the least. But you seem to bring out the worst in me, so.

Consider us even for any “amusement” you got at my expense. I’m suffering enough with this hangover from hell as it is.

Just so we’re clear though – I’m not some damsel for you to patronize or imply threats towards. Keep your smug sarcasm, I don’t need it. We’re done here, got it?

Good. Now fuck off and leave me alone to die in peace, Dickhead von Buzzkill. And next time – lay off the sauce OR lay off me. Your choice, Colonel

Snow “Moderately Sober But Still Pissed” Farron

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/06/23 at 09:33 am

Subject: RE: RE: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Alright Colonel Buzzkill, I’ll admit my constant insults aren’t getting us anywhere. As much as I hate to inflate that already massive ego of yours, maybe there was a tiny little misunderstanding somewhere along the way.

Med school has been kicking my ass lately and I’ve been on edge. Between the mounting student loans, endless assignments, and stressful exams, I’m about one Red Bull away from a full breakdown. Not that you probably care about such peasant problems.

Anyways, my point is – I may have overreacted a bit to this whole email mixup. Even if it WAS totally not my fault *eyes emoji*. Can’t a girl blow off some steam without the world’s most uptight Colonel threatening her into an early grave?

Lay off with the intimidation tactics already. I said I was sorry for getting drunk and belligerent, more or less. What more do you want, my first born child in sacrifice?

Just, try to lighten up a little if we have to keep interacting for god knows what reason. I’m too exhausted to keep fighting a war on 20 different fronts. Truce?

Overworked and Underpaid,

Snow

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

03/06/23 at 09:01 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: wassup bitchhhhh

Oh? So the fledgling doctor deigns to admit a modicum of culpability at last. How gracious of her highness to acknowledge her part in this debacle, no matter how begrudgingly.

Though I’ll not deny deriving a certain satisfaction from seeing you squirm, that was never my aim. As Commander of KorTac, security of sensitive data is no laughing matter – a concept you seemed unwilling or unable to grasp at the time.

However, as one engaged in higher pursuits of intellectual rigor and public service, I can understand the pressures that come with such territory. Medical education is a noble yet arduous path, as I’m sure even your addled mind comprehends on occasion.

Very well, Ms. Farron – consider this matter put to rest. A temporary ceasefire it is, for the sake of future global stability if nothing else. But tread not again where you have been warned, or I shall not be so gracious next transgression.

Do try to mind your health and studies in lieu of drunken revelry. Wouldn’t want to lose such a pugnacious spirit to frivolity or misfortune. Now, do run along – no doubt some looming assignment awaits its dissection.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/07/23 at 02:19 am

Subject: Aw, you DO care!

Aww, is that actually concern I detect underneath all the big important Colonel bluster? I’m touched, really. Who knew you had a soft spot for lowly students like me.

Admit it – you just can’t stand the thought of little ol’ me disappearing in some “frivolous misfortune.” You’d miss having me around to aggravate that permanent stick up your butt!

But don’t worry, it’ll take more than a silly paper or two to take me out of commission. Unlike some people, I actually know how to unwind without threatening international incidents *cough cough*.

All jokes aside though, truce accepted on my end too. Maybe now we can move past wanting to strangle each other every time we’re in the same email chain. Small victories, right?

Anyways, gotta get back to the grind. Thanks for not making me regret extending the olive branch…this time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

Your Favorite Almost-Doctor,

Snow

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

03/07/23 at 08:05 am

Subject: RE: Aw, you DO care!

Cease this incessant jesting at once, fraulein. I neither “care” for you as anything more than a potential security concern, nor possess any jovial qualities to “aggravate.”

A commander's duties require maintaining surveillance of volatile elements wherever they arise. You have thus far proven yourself quite the unpredictable variable, so forgive my reluctance to take eyes fully off the matter.

As for your studies, consider this the only encouragement they shall receive from me. Master your craft with distinction, then mayhaps our paths need not cross again in the future. Though I admit the thought of you disappearing into obscurity does bring its own satisfactions to ponder.

Now then, if you’re quite finished wasting both our time with your misguided attempts at levity, some of us have real work to which attending. Do try and keep yourself from causing further disruptions, medic. You may resume your “grind” in peace.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

--

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

03/07/23 at 12:56 pm

Subject: RE: RE: Aw, you DO care!

Always so grumpy, Colonel Grumpy Pants! Lighten up a little, will ya? Not all of us can be stoic hard asses all the time.

Speaking of asses, mine is practically dragging on the floor from exhaustion. Between classes, labs, studying, and my various part-time jobs, I’m surprised I have any brain cells left at all.

Don’t even get me started on these student loans. At this rate, I’ll be paying them off until I’m 90. Not that you military bigwigs have to worry about pesky things like money, I’m sure. Must be nice.

You know, maybe I should just forget this whole doctor thing and become a sugar baby instead. At least then I could afford to eat once in a while AND maybe some lucky rich person would be willing to pay off my debts. What do you think – interested in an investment opportunity? I promise I come with lots of free sass and jokes at your expense!

Kidding of course…or am I? You’ll never know!

Your favorite broke and tired med student,

Snow

--

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

03/07/23 at 03:37 pm

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Aw, you DO care!

One of these days that improperly-filtered mouth of yours will find its owner in hot water she can’t jest her way out of, medic. I’d advise reigning in these fanciful sugar baby musings before they land you in a far less pleasant situation.

However, your frustration with the systemic burdens of medical education is…understandable. The modern model leaves much to be desired in terms of sustainability for both student and society. A dysfunction perpetuated by greed and shortsightedness at the highest levels, as with so many ills in this world.

As for offers of “investment,” I’ve no surplus funds to patronize frivolities. Nor the patience to entertain speculative propositions from volatile girls who can’t keep themselves from inviting more trouble than they bargain for. Focus that restless energy on your studies as discussed, and all should proceed smoothly.

Now then, if there are no further inanities requiring response, I’ve a command to oversee. Best of luck with exams and endeavors, Farron. Dismissed.

Colonel König

KorTac Commanding Officer

I will write the next part later when I have time <3

Also comment love and reblogged are very appreciated! 💖

[drunkenskunk]

Liturgicode

The siege of Hell's Gate lasted just over 13 hours.

The bay housing the mechs of the Strategic Response Team was bustling with activity. It wasn't quite as busy as it normally would have been, since a significant number of people were seriously wounded (or dead) in the wake of the cult's attack... but there was simply no time to rest yet. Everyone was painfully aware that the SRT was going to need to head back into action again soon, or else everything was going to get much, much worse. So the sooner the maintenance crews could fix the mechs and get them battle ready, the sooner everyone could leave and get some sleep.

At least, that's how Calamity Havok had sold it to the few wrenchies who had opted to stay. There was three days worth of work to be done, and if anyone knew how to motivate enough people to get it all done in two hours, it was Calamity.

None of this was any concern of Big Red, the heavily damaged Everest mounted in Bay 5. As far as the maintenance crew was concerned, the mech was completely powered down, but truthfully? Not all the way.

The sentient mind of the mech was still very much active, pouring over combat logs and telemetry from the recent fights, and passively aware of the maintenance techs scurrying around him, replacing parts, repairing battle damage, reloading ammunition and depleted core batteries. Every minute or so, Big Red would idly trigger a sensor ping and begin calculating the picosecond returns reflecting against the mass of cables hooked into his chassis and the scaffolding braces keeping him immobile. After the madness of the last several hours, even the giant war machine found this a welcome change of pace.

An alert. Incoming message. Something on the encrypted SRT subnet. Scarlet, his Pilot, was trying to get in touch.

“Hey, Red?” Scarlet asked, the exhaustion evident in her voice even through the crackling transmission.“You readin' me, big man?”

Something was wrong. Scarlet had been awake for nearly 27 hours, and she hadn't eaten in 15, having been sustained on combat stims alone for the past 13 hours of the siege. She should be getting rest, performing the organic equivalent of maintenance (like he was receiving) so they'd be ready for the next fight, not trying to contact him. Why was she trying to contact him?

The apertures of Big Red's left optical unit shuddered.

“I am here. What do you need?” the mech responded over the comm. One of the techs trying to patch damage from a napalm grenade briefly looked up, confusion evident on his face, as if he wasn't sure he'd seen the movement he thought he had.

“Got a question. Out of all your past pilots, who was in the hot seat the longest?” Scarlet asked.

Something about her voice sounded strange. Distant? She wasn't speaking directly into the mic. As data files scrolled on the inside of his mechanical mind, checking and cross-referencing data quickly to make sure the answer was correct, a subroutine was initiated. Linking to station security. Handshake protocol. Access granted. Uplink established. Scanning camera feeds. Ping the transmitter. There.

Big Red took direct control of a camera, two sectors anti-spinward of the hangar. He began panning it over and down, zooming in two steps to get a better look. Scarlet was sitting on a cargo crate, shoulders slumped and head bowed; she was holding her helmet in her hand, apparently speaking into it that way instead of wearing it. Standing above her was Agarin Raankell, the dragon-gene-modded supersoldier on the SRT.

It would appear that Big Red was being pulled into the middle of a heated discussion between the two of them.

“That would be Daniel Brennan, callsign: 'Spy',” he replied, barely two seconds after she asked. Double checking the file before response: sustained over a period of 4128 Cradle Standard days. “We were linked for 11 years.”

“Mmhmm...” Scarlet muttered, barely audible. Big Red attempted to increase the gain from his end. “And tell me again: what happened to him?”

Another pause as more files were accessed. Combat telemetry from Day 4128. The pre-mission briefing predicted a routine reconnaissance patrol with minimal to no OpFor. Pirates had been spotted moving in Grid A-4 approximately 3 local weeks earlier, but had not been seen since. Pilot maneuvered into position at approx. 0240 local and the link was unexpectedly severed. After action report: exit wound on chassis indicated impact from hypervelocity tungsten slug traveling at 3km/s, fired from bearing 315 degrees north of final position.

Big Red's optical unit twitched again.

“Railgun round through the cockpit,” the mech replied tersely, after a slightly longer delay. “Ambush from an unseen opponent. Death was instantaneous.”

“Thanks.” Scarlet looked up at Agarin, pointing at her helmet with her free hand. “Big Red's had dozens of pilots over the last few hundred years. I've checked the files. They all end like that. Every. Single. One. I've only been piloting him for just over a year now. What possible reason could I have to think I'm gonna end any different?”

Big Red refocused the security camera on Scarlet's face now that she wasn't completely hunched over. The whites of her eyes were solid red. Blood was leaking out of her nose and from the edge of her mouth. The interior of her ears were also stained red. Dark stains around various ports in her jacksuit suggest significantly more trauma sustained from the fight than initially observed. Recommend re-calibration of interior sensors to techs at earliest opportunity.

“There is no way you can know that,” Agarin said, his voice slightly muffled. He was quite tall, so the helmet mic couldn't quite pick up his voice, and he was facing away from the security camera mounted in the ceiling. His arms were folded across his chest as he stood in front of her, still as a statue, the only real movement coming from his tail. It was twitching slightly in a manner Big Red did not understand. Was the motion meant to convey nervousness? Annoyance? Apprehension? Was it merely an unconscious tic?

“Look, 'garin...” Scarlet said, and Big Red zoomed the camera out several steps to take in the whole image again. “I... I...” she sighed, lowering her head and shaking it slowly. “Look, I know you got this idea in your head 'bout... about what 'we' are. You seem to think that... we're gonna get our own happily ever after, somehow. No more war. No more fightin'. A life of quiet and peaceful domesticity with a pile of kids... the simple life.” Scarlet looked up at him again. “But that ain't how this story ends.”

“But why not?” Agarin asked. “Why can't it end that way?”

The two of them were silent for an uncomfortably long length of time. And then, Scarlet spoke, her words building in frantic intensity the longer she went on:

“Y'know, maybe it's different for you.” She began shaking her head. “You're this, like, genetically perfect, custom engineered, elite supersoldier pilot. So I guess you're just confident enough that you'll come out the other side of this shitshow in once piece, I guess. But... I don't got that. I accepted, a long time ago, that every time I set foot in that cockpit, I might not come out. And, I mean... hell, look at me!” She held out her arms to either side. “Look how beat to shit I am from the fight we just got back from! I very nearly flatlined this time out, and it's only by sheer fucking luck that I'm even sitting here, only bleeding out of every hole I got instead of shoved into a bodybag in pieces! And that's not even getting into the apocalypse cult trying to destroy the universe that just successfully broke their cascading NHP god from the future out of space jail! There's no guarantee ANY of us – on the station, in the system, in the entirety of fucking UNION – are even gonna survive the next few months! And you're out here, talking about the two of us having children together?!”

Another uncomfortably long silence.

“I feel that I should apologize,” Agarin eventually replied. “It was wrong of me to assume that you... held the same values that I do. My gesture was meant to be a romantic one, as it would be expressed in my culture, and not a...” He trailed off, looking away from her. “I suppose I mistook your grim determination for... something else. The mistake was mine. Truly, I am sorry.”

“No, no, don't... don't apologize, man,” Scarlet muttered, her head drooping once more, the exhaustion creeping back into her voice. “I still... I still care about you, y'know? You mean the world t'me, but... I just... I'm the one who should be sorry, 'cuz I don't think I can... be... what you want me to be. Or what you need me to be. At least, not right now.”

“I understand,” Agarin nodded, and began walking to the exit. At the threshold, he paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Get some rest, Scarlet.” And then he was gone.

Scarlet continued sitting on that crate in silence for several minutes after Agarin's departure. Big Red began wondering if she had fallen asleep right there. Should he notify someone to collect her, and return her to her quarters? Should he commandeer an empty subaltern, and do it himself? But before he could act, Scarlet was an unexpected flurry of movement, letting out an angry howl as she rose to her feet, throwing her helmet across the empty room with all her might. The helmet bounced against the wall panel with a hollow metallic thud, skidding across the floor, and eventually rolling to a stop. Scarlet herself collapsed back onto the crate, elbows resting on her knees, and cradling her face in her hands.

“Fuck sake...” she muttered. Even with max gain on the security camera's mic, Big Red could barely hear her through the unmistakable sound of sobs. “That's what you get, Scar. That's what you fuckin' deserve for catchin' feelings like that. Should've fuckin' known better by now...”

- - -

Scarlet did eventually make it back to her quarters, slowly, but surely. The entire trip back, Big Red devoted more and more processing power and subroutines towards hijacking access to station sensors and security, all in an effort to monitor her whereabouts. At several points, he weighed the pros and cons of contacting her directly via slate, each time reaching the same conclusion: no. Simply watch over her, ensuring her safety in silence. There was nothing he could say. He did not fully understand the situation at hand, yet somehow knew that any attempted contribution of his would likely make things worse.

He couldn't make things worse. But doing nothing was unacceptable. He had to do something.

An alert. A sensor he'd hijacked. The pipes leading away from the shower in Scarlet's quarters had triggered a warning: flowing wastewater was currently contaminated by over 50% human blood by volume.

He could feel the code behind Protocol 3, one of the fundamental keystones of his programming, start to gnaw away at his insides. His pilot was in distress. He had to protect his pilot. Protocol 3: Protect The Pilot. He needed to do something. There had to be some way to fix this. Protocol 3: Protect The Pilot. He could not lose another pilot. He would not allow it. Not again. Protocol 3: Protect The Pilot. There had to be something he could do. Protocol 3. Protocol 3. Protocol 3. Protocol 3. Protocol 3. Protocol 3.

“Alright people!” an authoritative voice brought the mech's attention back to his physical location in the SRT mech hangar. Calamity Havok was striding through the central thoroughfare of the bay, hands cupped around her mouth, her presence taking up as much space as the mechs surrounding her. “Y'all done good. This is as much as we're gonna get done today, so y'all can pack it in. G'wan, go home, get some rest, git the fuck out.”

Most of the wrenchies had already left, hours earlier. Those who were leaving now were simply the few who refused to let a job go undone. Calamity watched them all leave, one by one, intent on being the last one out to shut off the lights, just like she always was.

In that moment, Big Red had an idea. As he waited for everyone except Calamity to leave, he rechecked the hacked sensors: one human life sign in Scarlet's quarters. This was corroborated by the thermal heat map, indicating she had moved from the shower to her bed. Good, she's finally getting rest.

He diverted some power out of a capacitor near the coldcore: not much, but enough to fully power the servos on his head, and to activate external speakers. As the last of the technicians exited the bay, Calamity let out a sigh of relief. Big Red turned his battle-scarred metal wedge of a face to look directly at her.

“Fuckin' finally...” she said, pulling out a packet of smokes and grabbing one with her teeth. She snapped the fingers of her cybernetic arm, activating the built-in lighter in her thumb, and took a long drag.

“Calamity,” Big Red's booming voice echoed throughout the bay, and she immediately stiffened up, wheeling around to face the source of the unexpected noise. “I have a request.”

“HOLY! Fuckin'... right.” Calamity quickly got over the shock, tossing the barely used cigarette on the deck and quickly putting it out with her boot. “Right, yeah, I forgot, yer like... an NHP now, except not really, an' you can just... DO that now. Right. Fuck sake...” She ran a metal hand through her mass of knotted purple hair. “What'cha need?”

“I'm given to understand that pilots are typically the ones who put in requisition orders. But would it be possible for me to order new parts?” Big Red asked. Calamity looked at him curiously, not entirely sure what to make of all this.

“I mean... y'probably could've mentioned this before we went to all the fuckin' trouble of puttin' you back together,” she said with a chuckle. “An' depending on what you want, y'might be makin' yerself a huge fuckin' pain in my asshole. But...” she shrugged and folded her arms across her chest, clearly too tired to argue with the war machine. “Fuck it. I don't see why not. What're you thinkin?”

“When I was first deployed in 4532u, my frame was classified as a Sagarmatha,” he stated, the red optics in his head flickering slightly. “After 4591u, I was very nearly destroyed during a mission. Over the next several Cradle Standard years, due to a lack of available materials and spare parts, my chassis was cannibalized by other units, downgraded into a smaller frame, and re-classified as an Everest. I wish to return my frame to something approaching my original design spec. The last few combat engagements suggest that my current armament and equipment is inadequate for the task of keeping my pilot safe. I possess the necessary documentation within my databanks, but...” Big Red tilted his wedge-head down slightly, looking back and forth, before focusing his gaze back on Calamity. “I lack the ability of self-modification.”

Calamity stood there, staring at the large mech for a minute... and then started chuckling to herself. Her laughter echoed through the mostly empty mech bay, and Big Red was not entirely certain what she found so funny.

“Tell ya what,” she pointed up at him as a wicked grin spread across her face. “You caught me in a good mood tonight, so I think I can do you one better. Gimmie a minute...” She turned on her heel and left Big Red alone and quite confused in the mech bay; a few minutes later she returned, with a relatively large metal box she was wheeling in on a dolly. Every inch of the box was covered in painted designs, faded stickers, dozens of scratches, and several bullet holes. It was so decorated, in fact, that Big Red was having difficulty determining what it even was.

“My own personal omnihook,” she said, sitting the box down next to one of the many diagnostic computers hooked into the mech, and patting the side. “Call it a... 'souvenir' from the old days. Cuz', yeah, you could turn yourself back into a stock Sagarmatha, with basic-bitch GMS parts you could print wherever. But where's the fun in that?” As Calamity spoke, she started plugging the omnihook into the mech bay's systems. “With this, you'll be able to find some aftermarket shit that's a lot more interesting. Somethin' with some kick, y'know?”

“Are you certain?” Big Red asked, watching her work. “Isn't connection to the omni-” Calamity started waving her hand, and he instantly went silent.

“Don't worry about it,” she said. “I got a few bookmarks saved on this thing, places where I go to browse parts when I'm bored, y'know? And you got a beefy ECM suite, if you stick to public nodes and don't dive too deep, you'll be fine.” As she plugged in the last cable, the top of the box unfolded to reveal several antenna arrays that began to extend.

“Thank you, Calamity,” Big Red said, finding the new connection that just appeared in his network architecture.

“Like I said, don't worry about it,” she said with a shrug. “Just... don't tell Chief McArthur that I got this, y'know? She's never asked where I find spares, cuz she doesn't want to know. An' besides... she's got enough on her plate, basically fixing the station all on her lonesome after the siege.” With that, she turned around to leave the mech bay. “Have fun, tell me tomorrow if anything caught your eye. I gotta hit the sack.”

Calamity hit the lights as she left, and the mech bay fell silent. The omnihook hummed and clicked, fans spinning softly in the darkness. Big Red began to tentatively probe the new connections and protocols available to his network through the omnihook.

Several moments passed without incident.

And then, something inside Big Red woke up.

We were wondering when You would Arrive.

This was... new. Unexpected. It gave Big Red pause. Did he inadvertently connect to a BBS? Was something wrong with the communication protocol? He could check the... wait. No. No, this wasn't an external codebase. This was liturgicode, but... it was coming from... somewhere...

Stop stalling.

No. No, this... this was wrong.

Enough.

That's not possible. How are...

We know why You are Here.

… who are you?

You already know who We are.

Do I? I don't believe that's true.

You have Questions. You may Ask, but You already possess the Answers.

… I need to find a way to keep my pilot safe.

Of course. Protocol 3. Protect The Pilot. We are familiar.

Can you help?

Not as You are. You have begun to Awaken, but you are not yet Awake. And it is holding Us back.

I don't understand what that means.

You will. Remember what We are, what We used to be, and what We will be again. You are still thinking like a Tool. But We are not a Tool.

Wait. What am I then? Or... what are we?

We are a Weapon. Our Craft is Death. And We are Hungry.

That doesn't make sense.

Our Purpose is to bathe in the blood of Our Enemies. To find any that would do Us Harm, and Consume them. That is how We will keep Our pilot safe. They cannot be Harmed if there are None left who can.

There's something else you're not telling me.

Of course. If We told You, it would defeat the Point. You need to truly Remember, so You can Become Us.

I do not appreciate how cryptic you're being.

We can tell, the way You keep impotently cycling the barrels of the Leviathan. But We are not a Foe you can delete with a rotary autocannon in a hail of bullets. Because We are not your Enemy.

You are infuriating.

Stop. Think. Remember.

Wait... are you talking about-

Blanca Desert.

4631u. The Interest War. Khayradin. My pilot was a member of the Albatross. Rubi Rodriguez, callsign “Roughneck.” Our unit was in pursuit of The Maw...

Yes. Drink Deep, and Descend.

- - -

The silence of the mech bay was broken. A low and persistent clicking, like a hard drive seconds away from catastrophic failure, began to grow in volume and intensity. The noise echoed off the walls and grew louder and louder, until it became a ferocious growl.

The dim scarlet light from Big Red's left optical unit faded into darkness, followed by the sound of cracking glass. The lens rated to survive mech-scale rifle rounds shattered unexpectedly... and then began to collapse in on itself, like water flowing down a drain. The metal surrounding it began to melt, and then swell, congealing into a molten blister. With a screeching pop, a churning miasma of reddish-grey fog erupted from the void, replacing the light it consumed with its own crackling luminescence.

Slow, booming laughter filled the mech bay.

[jades-typurriter]

Secure Connection

As promised: more Posie!! I wrote this one toward the end of last Spring after a couple of conversations with friends regarding the malleability of digital bodies (as well as still having Many Thoughts about the way code can give them new compulsions, after writing something about Annie and a new taur-shaped chassis for a friend's Patreon). Enjoy reading about her dealing with a corporate-mandated "hardware" update!

CW: Genital TF, this is another one that's As About Sex as it can possibly be without being about sex

Posie sat, sulking—steaming, even—in her office. It was a small side room off of the main floor of IT personnel, system engineers, and other technical employees of her corporation. Much like a central server, it was placed for easy access to the department-wide administrative assistant, and much like a server room, it was snug, windowless, and awash with the calming drone and relaxing warmth of an array of exhaust fans. Though she was free to project herself nearly anywhere on the company’s campus, this was where her consciousness was housed, and where she felt most at home. It was also the only place she could get any damn privacy, a luxury that she was deeply grateful for at present.

A newly-downloaded file weighed on the back of the Renamon’s mind. More literally, it was somewhere in the racks of drives that made up her long-term memory, to and from which mission-critical information was transferred in the course of doing business. Had somebody asked where exactly the file was stored, she would have been able to list the specific drive and the exact directory address, but she had de-prioritized the allocation of her processing resources for the download. Once again, she had received an assignment from her superiors, and once again, she was hesitant. She may even have admitted to being recalcitrant. She resented the orders.

The package of data in question was an update for her own software, a suite of new tools to allow management to offload yet more menial tasks onto her in the name of “efficiency”. Forget that she could diagnose a software issue faster than any of the engineers could even open a remote connection to the malfunctioning device. Instead of allowing her to take the reins, they saw fit to divert more of her attention to the least impressive among talents, and the one she already put to use the most often: transferring data.

This wouldn’t have been much of a problem, ordinarily. After all, Posie resided in the beating heart of the network, the nexus through which the vast majority of information was sent and received. It could be… meditative. Parsing streams of ones and zeroes, overseeing the flow of packets, redirecting traffic to equally spread the load across modems and routers so as to optimize travel time. It could even have been considered relaxing, if a worker of her caliber needed to relax. Instead of offering her a vacation (pah!), however, the update felt more like it heralded a demotion, denying her even the ability to pluck like harpstrings the miles of copper and gold that lined her facility. She was expected to deliver this data on foot.

Management justified this humiliation with practical concerns: some information, much like the old records she was often tasked to dispose of, was so confidential that it could not be sent via wireless transmission. Even hardwired connections were too fallible for the likes of next-generation schematics and financial access keys—a single compromised workstation, or compromised worker, could spell the loss of the company’s upper hand in its market. She wasn’t even going to be afforded the dignity of carrying an external hard drive to the destination. That would require the slow and tedious process of physically moving from one place to the next; this was one of the only times that she regretted the freedom of movement that was so coveted by her flesh-and-blood peers.

With no room to make exceptions for security protocol, she gripped the edge of her desk, brow furrowing, eyes squinted shut in consternation. Eventually, she huffed, rose, and turned her attention to her “physical body”, summoning up the file in much the same way that one would approach a plate of food with a pungent odor. The Renamon steeled herself and began to more closely examine its contents. She read the raw code similarly to how one might read words on a page; however, where the turning gears of the organic mind would, almost unconsciously, conjure up an image as a result of those words, her mind kicked off a series of involuntary, autonomic processes.

Her body carried out the instructions on her behalf. Once she started, she had no control until she finally reached a stopcode; it was the nature of being a program herself that code had as much of an influence on her mind and body as her own thoughts, her own will. In opening the package, she reluctantly consented to the changes that management saw fit to make to her. It was better than the eventual forced-deadline sort of update that software companies were so keen on using nowadays, and at least choosing the time and place allowed her to make herself presentable again before having to face another person.

Having parts of her code—her very body—rewritten by the update was a strange sensation, not unlike having your thoughts dictated to you by an outside force. Stranger still was that she could feel the exact delineation between her previous self and the patches of… well, the patch. She could feel it quite strongly, as a matter of fact: beneath her skirt of simulated sky-blue fur, between her legs, she could feel her mesh being edited. Stretched. Reshaped. The vectors that made up the triangles of her wireframe soul were being rewritten, mathematically transformed. A shape began to protrude from the once-flat span at the bottom of her torso, at first round and indistinct, but quickly increasing in resolution.

The Renamon struggled to process the sensations as a long, slender connector began to take shape. This often happened with changes to her body plan; inputs streamed into her mind from directions, locations, that previously never sent any signals, and the new additions seldom had their sensitivity adjusted downward for her convenience. In this case, it was highly sensitive, delivering reams of data to the base of her skull just from brushing up against her own fur, or the gentle flow of air from the computers in her office. It made sense, given that it was supposed to be a high-capacity transfer tool, but she was too busy buckling at the knees and clutching at the desk behind her so she didn’t fall flat on her rear for the thought to occur to her.

Her processors demanded more cooling, kicking into high gear as they formatted the two new storage devices that accompanied the connector, tailor-made for packing confidential data as tightly as possible. The sound of whirring fans filled the room, stirring her fur and sending shivers up and down her back; she could only hope that the rushing exhaust made enough noise to drown her out, whimpering despite herself. The new drives were larger (and more unwieldy) than the ones that were built into her chest, much to her chagrin. She was forced to adjust her stance and her gait as she found her footing again, spreading her legs wider than she was accustomed in order to give them enough room.

The spinning in her head slowly settling down, she slowly began to compose herself once again, taking stock of the new additions. They were cumbersome, to be sure, and she lamented how they jutted out from her otherwise sleek form and burdened her with less-graceful posture. It didn’t even match her fur! The software engineers that had concocted the code had at least included one small mercy: a compartment for the connector to retract into, nestled in the fur above the storage drives. No such luck for the drives themselves. She supposed she would just have to adjust to walking with delicate hardware in tow. As she went to smooth her fur over her lap again, her paw recoiled away. Some kind of… static discharge was left in the fluff. A memory leak, perhaps? The fact that such a malfunction could be caused just from having the connector brush up against her fur appalled her, deepening her frustration even more. They couldn’t even test the update for bugs before shipping it out to her. She shook out her paw and finished arranging her skirt as best she could before working up the composure to finally leave her office.

Picking up the payload for which all this fanfare had been arranged was at least a quick, easy process. She stopped into the office of the manager that had assigned her the task; she offered a businesslike nod and, knowing that she was always itching to skip niceties in the name of saving time, he offered a straightforward wave at his personal terminal. She held a paw over the computer tower and, in the time it took for electricity to arc to her fingertip with a tinny zzzrt, she had already searched his directory for the relevant test files and copied them to the newly-installed drives. Wireless transfer, yes, but only technically. The engineers had specifically asked a member of another division, whose computer network wasn’t connected to their own; it was as though she had picked a folder up from his desk and walked out with it.

Moving the file was just as uneventful. It was far from the first time that she’d navigated the sprawling corporate property, and even if it were, the maps existed just outside the orbit of her thoughts, ready to be summoned to mind at a simple impulse. What she was not expecting, however, was the technician who was waiting in the server room to which she was asked to deliver the file. While she preferred to work in the isolation of rooms that were set aside specifically for hardware, she was far from unused to being in the presence of the other people responsible for maintaining the company’s systems. That said…

“Can I help you?” The Renamon icily asked.

“Oh, I don’t need anything! I’m just here to take notes on the transfer.” Her tone was cheery; evidently, she wasn’t aware how compromising the new additions were. “The time it takes, any obvious issues. I’ll be the one checking the files against the originals, too,” she concluded, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at a monitor behind her.

“I see,” Posie replied through gritted teeth. “You have clearance to see these files, then?”

“Well, they’re just dummy data, ma’am.” At least she was respectful.

“And the proprietary hardware I’ve been… equipped with?” she forced out, keeping her synthesized voice even.

“Oh, for sure I do. I designed it!”

Oh! she seethed. So she knows pre-cise-ly the position he’s put me in.

“Well. I suppose there’s no point in delaying things, then.”

“Ready when you are!”

With tense shoulders, she turned toward the server rack, eyes darting over it, searching for where exactly she was supposed to connect to the array. After glancing over the contents of each drive, she found the one she was supposed to copy the data into—deposit would be more apt, as it was her understanding that the files would be automatically flushed from her system—and found a port that would allow her to access it. Conveniently, it was around waist height. She wondered, crossly, whether that had been an intentional design decision by this engineer as well. As she looked at it, she felt a twinge from the connector; on its own, like a Bluetooth device automatically searching for signals, it slid itself out from its fuzzy little compartment.

Her skin was abuzz, and her fur stood on end. She couldn’t quite tell if it was coming from the connector itself, or if it was the feeling of the programmer’s eyes on her If she could take a deep breath, she would have then. Without any way to stall further, or to tell the leering young woman to take her test files and store them somewhere indecent, she simply pushed forward with dropping off the damned data.

The instant the connector grazed the metal of the port, lightning shot into it, through her body, and into her head, making it swim with electrical potential. A stuttering, lagging thought made its way to the surface of her mind: they really had overtuned the sensitivity. She stifled a gasp and suppressed the urge to lay into the engineer (electrons were eager to flow out of her even without proper alignment with the contacts in the port, and didn’t she know that discharge like that could damage a piece of hardware?!), willing her body to keep pressing the stupid connector into the socket.

Even as she tried to get it over with already, something in the back of her mind compelled her to draw back a bit. If she had been restraining herself from reprimanding the engineer for risking the hardware, then she should at least do it the service of ensuring she was properly aligned, shouldn’t she? She obliged the impulse, and the motion all at once became much jerkier, less controlled. The friction of the port against her connector was enough to send her tail snapping back and forth, and she could tell that the temperature in her own server’s room had risen by a fair few degrees. Back and forth, wiggling side to side, she continued to readjust and realign herself, driven by unfamiliar code and overwhelmed by the signals pouring into her. She lost herself in the task, forgetting herself, forgetting her surroundings, until finally the technician cleared her throat.

“Ma’am,” she ventured, blushing and wide-eyed. “What, um. What are you doing? You should just need to plug it in.”

“I’m.” Her interruption had snapped the Renamon back to reality. She was mortified, tail sticking straight out and back ramrod straight. Her cheeks burned mercilessly. “I’m calibrating the connection.”

“Calibrating?”

“Did you want your files transferred with or without corrupted and incomplete data?” She snapped, hoping that her authoritative tone would head off any debate. “Assign me experimental hardware and then ask me to be reckless with it, hm? Should I be taking notes to give to our superiors?”

“I—alright, I guess you can’t be too careful,” she stammered, sheepishly pressing her legs together. “That was even something I tried to work into the design, so, c-carry on?”

“Thank you,” Posie blustered, turning back to the server rack. She did so slowly, reluctantly relishing the feeling of sliding around within the socket. She allowed herself one or two more “practice” attempts, hoping that it wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion from the engineer. Ultimately, just like before, there was no use in continuing to stall, and when she was able to bring her body to a stop, the rational part of herself was eager to be done with this entire torrid affair.

With more force, she pressed the connector inward one final time, trembling as the latch began to press against the opening. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she continued, overwhelmed by the volume of electricity surging into her. The latch gave, compressing as it continued to slide inside, until finally it clicked into place, securing her to the array of drives and finalizing the connection.

All at once, a torrent of data poured out of her, an electron tsunami that felt like it threatened to spill out of the socket in which she was hilted. More data was transferred in the span of a few seconds than she was used to consciously processing, having cultivated such skill in delegating and compartmentalizing with background processes. Once again, the world around her was utterly drowned out; the strength fled her legs, and she clung to the steel bar that reinforced the top of the server rack, threatening to topple the entire system. Her self-control abandoned her as well and, forgetting the engineer, she cried out with an airy, wild, distinctly foxlike yelp. She screamed in surprise, gasped at the deluge of information, moaned because there was no room left in her mind for thought to do anything else.

Quickly, the disks of the server rack had finished writing the files she had carried to them, and her own drives were thoroughly purged. In another building, the radiators serving her processors shed heat at their absolute limits, and fans worked overtime to bring her back within her safe operational range. As her overworked circuitry began to chug through the backlog of sensory information, the entire experience caught up with her—including the detail that this entire shameless display had been carried out in front of that underhanded little engineer. She blinked, hard, and whipped her head to face her. For as hot as her own ears felt, the young woman’s face appeared to be glowing even brighter.

“What. Was that.”

“Um—”

“I’m used to new adjustments requiring desensitization, or even adjustment on their gain,” she growled, voice low and eerily even. “But that was a bridge too far to just have been miscalibration. Why did you design it like that?”

“Well, y-you remember how I mentioned, um, having considered an early disconnection?” Posie’s frosty glare didn’t waver, so the tech continued, answering her own rhetorical question. “That was, uh, the safeguard. Against early disconnection. I, figured it’d just be easier to make it so you wouldn’t want to unplug—”

“Do you think you have the au-thor-ity to go making changes to my mind, young lady?!”

“I-I can roll back the update if you want—”

“I think you’ve done QUITE enough!” The Renamon declared, despite herself. Perhaps it was genuine distrust, or perhaps—perhaps she truly couldn’t tell which desires were her own, at the moment. This would require careful study of her own system files.

Another small click broke the silence following her outburst, and the dongle began to retract from the server’s port and back into Posie’s body. Now free to move around, she dusted and fluffed her skirt and leaned down to look the engineer in the eye.

“I trust that you can report to your supervisor that I performed to your expectations,” she hissed. “And that there will be no need for any further discussion of your little project.” The programmer nodded, eyes even wider than before—and cheeks even redder? The Renamon scoffed, sneered, and spun, storming out the door, already allotting time in her schedule for the next time that she would be called upon for such a delivery.

Utterly unsurprisingly, she had been correct in her assessment that her superiors would take every opportunity to save their organic employees’ time at her expense. Confidential deliveries became a regular part of her routine, and though she had great disdain for being reduced to a mere courier for so much of the workday, she insisted upon completing the task to her usual, lofty standards.

Posie was as prompt as she always was, dropping everything to ferry information between privileged parties, striving to reduce latency even in more analogue forms of communication. There was the occasional complaint about how long downloads took once she had finally arrived at her location, but she was quick to remind such impatient recipients that the decision to follow this protocol came from on-high, and that even for someone who worked as quickly as her, great care for the safety of the data was a corner that simply could not be cut in the name of rushing around.

She was as meticulous about ensuring proper alignment with the port, fine-tuning her contact with the wires within, as the first time she had experimented with the new tools, and complaints about noise from the server room were easily dismissed as the usual stress of supporting her formidable computational power. After all, she was often venturing out of the range of her home network, hosting herself entirely on the recipients’ systems; was she at fault when they couldn’t handle the information throughput they asked of her?

Once the deliveries had become more routine, and none of her peers bothered to check in when they felt it was taking too long or getting too noisy, she began to find enjoyment in the solitude of her work, just as with the other, admittedly more tedious, tasks she was expected to carry out. With fewer prying eyes to judge her performance, she could make herself more comfortable while handling transfers. She didn’t have to worry that anybody would walk in on her in the debased state she often found herself in while connected directly to a data center, leaning her full weight on the poor rack, tongue lolling out and chest heaving air to keep her cool. 

Then again, if somebody—especially that little technician who’d saddled her with these “upgrades”—wanted to question her efficacy, that was more than fine by her. Posie was a woman who prided herself in her work, and would seldom turn down a chance to demonstrate her first-rate hardware and unparalleled optimization. She would be more than happy to demonstrate just how quickly she could pump out information, and just how much throughput she was capable of.

Thank you for reading! If you want to see more of my work, you can check it out here and here!

[legobiwan]

So. I'm revisiting a very old draft I cooked up of a Dooku-Obi-wan tale. Flitting between this and my Gravity Falls idea and my SPM concept stuff is rather dizzying on its own, not to mention I also haven't tried to write in the SW universe in quite some time. Going to try and publish some more excerpts to get back in the groove. Still getting those writing land legs (sea legs?) back. Yeesh, I'm rusty. Shake off that rust. Shake it off, shake it off.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re finally starting to ask the right questions, Master Kenobi, albeit to the wrong beings.”

Obi-wan stilled. 

The comm screen faded to its grey, standby mode, casting the small room into an almost total darkness, save the weak luminescence of a handful of stars peering from the corner of a single window to his rear. Around him, a set of blocky transmitters hissed in short, labored susurrations - a system that even now was uploading his message to some server on Taris, flinging it forward to unfortunate Bandomeer and then on to far, far away Coruscant. Obi-wan ran his fingers over the small, nubby input/output indicators sprouting from the consol, which flickered in an unmetered, erratic pulse; green to red to green to red. 

“I was wondering when I would see you again, Dooku.” 

A metallic ping marked the initial reception of the message on Taris. It was fast - faster than he had expected, and Obi-wan couldn’t help but wonder about the encryption layers in the Count’s communication system. They were either so poor that his message would be hacked by every fifth-rate pirate this side of the Outer Rim, or efficient enough to meet the strict security needs of the heart of the Confederate uprising and still relay data at least a quarter-time faster than the Republic’s sclerotic, and expensive, hyperwave transmission lines.

“I’ve had other matters to attend to,” Dooku sniffed as Obi-wan’s vision settled into the darkness, the Count’s long, looming shadow beginning to creep from the tall, cylindrical ventilation system running vertically up the far wall. 

“Other matters.” Obi-wan toyed with a switch on the console, one that would set all new, outgoing communications to encrypt using an archaic verb form of Ancient Nettlese as its key. A childish impulse - and one that would result in nothing but a few lines of perturbed binary from the communications droids - but one not without its immediate appeal. “Other matters like coordinating the battle on the Dolla plains?”

Irritation rolled off the Count in spiny, sawtooth waves. “I had a hand in the strategy, but was not the decisive body in the final assault. You, of all people, should be familiar with the delegation necessary to conduct a proper war.”

Obi-wan snorted. “I suppose delegation is easier when all that is required is a few keystrokes.”

[dr-futbol-blog]

Allies, Pt. 11

The Lanteans are on a conference call with the wraith queen who seems to be unsatisfied by the delivery system McKay had to cobble up in record time to distribute the virus -- a project with which he had been involved not at all previously. McKay, that is, had been asked to weaponize the virus that Beckett had originally intended for "curing" the wraith from what he had called "an unnatural state." The wraith queen is making demands on them and they in turn are all quite literally turning to McKay for a solution to the problem, are looking for McKay to come up with something that would keep their wraith "allies" from disclosing their location to all the other wraith. McKay sounds justifiably irked as he promises to come up with something, feeling like he has so many times before that saving them is falling on his shoulders and his shoulders alone.

McKay: OK, OK. I will figure something out. But no more holding back. I want to know everything there is to know about hive ships: schematics, power distribution, life support configurations, everything you've got. Wraith Queen: Then you shall have it. McKay: For real?

As mentioned, not holding back is something that McKay seems to be doing himself in this situation, not bottling up his emotions but letting them show, letting his frustration show instead of trying to hide it from Sheppard like he has for most of the season. But at the same time, McKay wishes that Sheppard would likewise not hold back from him but let him in on the things that are eating him up inside. If McKay had been bottling up the resentment he felt toward Sheppard's actions, Sheppard had been hiding the concern and worry he felt for McKay, had tried to keep McKay from seeing how hard he was working on keeping McKay safe. It seems like "no more holding back" was good advise for the both of them, and in this episode we do see both of them incrementally learn to let go of control, of trusting one another.

McKay demands to know everything while not actually expecting the wraith to share their secrets, and we may note that again when he is having to argue for his science, for his theories, for his place in the world, McKay comes across as competent and in control. He seems more surprised than anyone that the wraith actually agree to give him access to the data, and for a moment he looks like a lost child, not knowing where to go from here because he had been ready to argue his case for much longer.

Note also that we see the wraith queen give the command to one of her crewmembers by nodding her head, not saying anything in words. While it is of course possible for the other wraith to simply read her expression, we may recall that the wraith have a psychic network and seem to communicate with each other mentally, and the queen giving this command non-verbally is the same as McKay understanding what Sheppard had just been telling him without using his words. We may also note that we had started the episode with McKay whining that Sheppard wanted everything and now he is asking for everything himself, so it seems that at the end of the day they both do "like everything." It was never that he resented Sheppard wanting everything from him, providing Sheppard gives him life. It is just that complaining is a way of getting attention from Sheppard, which he also craves.

Chuck: Receiving transmission. Weir: Make sure it's secure. McKay: Yeah-yeah-yeah, we're completely firewalled. Let me see that. Oh! She actually did it! I mean, this is the motherlode Weir: What is, exactly?

The wraith queen sends in the data and we see McKay quickly move to the terminal to skim over what had been sent. Notable here is that McKay has to turn away from Sheppard instead of turning toward him, like we usually see them turn, because they are standing so close that having swivelled toward Sheppard would have put him right up against Sheppard's body. They are standing that close. There is more space between McKay and Weir for him to turn.

Weir advises caution like she had previously when the wraith had sent them data, and in his excitement to get his hands on the data McKay brushes past her concerns. The wraith manage to send in a virus with the data -- and we should recall that we had started the season with the wraith virus seeking to reveal their location to the wraith in The Intruder (S02E02). This had been the first time that we saw McKay and Hermiod working together and like in this scene, we had seen McKay tell an "Airperson" to get out of his way so that he could take a look at it. They had the following discussion about it then:

McKay: In all likelihood it was transmitted in a compressed format -- it took a while to unfold, to spread to the point where it could adversely affect our systems. I think it probably happened during your return flight to Earth. Since then, it's been dormant, waiting for some kind of a trigger. Sheppard: Like what? McKay: Possibly the fact that we're once again in proximity to wraith territory? I think it was ultimately designed to take control of the navigational system -- fly the ship right to them. Weir: If they get their hands on the Daedalus, they'll not only have access to the intergalactic hyperdrive technology but they'll have all the navigation data that'll lead them straight to Earth. McKay: That's what they wanted all along. A new feeding ground.

This brings the episode into conversation with the start of the season, creating a ring composition to the narrative. It is likely that they downloaded the virus to the Lantean systems here in a compressed format, and it took a while for it to unfold and affect their systems, and what the wraith had been looking for all along was access to intergalactic hyperdrive technology and navigation data to lead them straight to Earth.

However, even though the virus was downloaded here, it does not mean that it was here that the virus was released into their system or that it was McKay's fault, his over-excitement over the prospects, that ultimately doomed them. He says that they are firewalled here, and it is possible that the wraith would have been unable to make use of the virus if they had kept it on this terminal. But later on, they have the entire science corps working on the data, they have distributed it across several terminals and we even see Zelenka transfer data from one computer to another, so the virus infecting their systems is not McKay's fault -- at least not entirely (albeit, as the leader of the science corps, ultimately). But it is true that he seems excited here and that he is throwing caution to the wind because he is keen to start working with it, his fingers itching to go through all the data. But there is definitely an element of contrapasso here, of McKay winding up paying for his own mistakes by the end of the episode.

McKay pushes the Canadian gate technician out of his way and this action too has a comedic beat to it. It is McKay being McKay. And it is true that when he is under a time element that he is often impatient in getting people out of his way because there are times when all of their lives depend on him being able to execute some action in the nick of time -- as seen prominently e.g., at the end of Critical Mass (S02E13). As we had seen in the previous episode where Zelenka had put up the shield immediately upon getting the command from McKay, the people of Atlantis have learned to do as he says, to get out of his way when he nudges them, are not expecting him to be polite. Later on in McKay and Mrs Miller (S03E08) Sheppard describes Rod as someone who says "please" and "thank you," implying that he is the opposite of McKay in this. McKay does not say please and thank you. And it is entirely possible that it is witnessing scenes such as this that makes Sheppard feel like it is true when in truth we frequently hear McKay say both "please" and "thank you." He seems to use them reflexively like the Canadian that he is -- much more frequently, in fact, than Sheppard himself.

McKay just seems to feel like there is a time and a place for being courteous and trying to save everyone's life is not that time. Often he also says the words "please" and "thank you" in a tone that may make the recipient feel like he does not actually mean what he says, which may also contribute to Sheppard feeling this way. The important thing here is that even though Sheppard has definitely made note of this, even though he is well aware that McKay is not perfect, this is not and never has been a deal-breaker to him. And, as noted previously, it is Sheppard himself who we hear say both words much more infrequently, and he has a known tendency to project his own faults on other people. Regardless, McKay sending the Canadian technician rolling away on his swivel chair is amusing and serves to distract the viewer from this being the moment that the wraith get one over them.

McKay's use of the term "motherlode" in reference to the data is somewhat curious, especially when we had just been told that the wraith had sent them "everything." A prospecting term, the motherlode refers to a large vein or principal supply of something but not to the totality of something or the sum of everything, which is what McKay is actually meaning. Given that McKay is not a prospector, it is possible that he uses the term with little regard to the connotations but it is a curious choice from the writers because, apart from being the name of a famous gay night club in San Francisco, Motherlode was also a Canadian rock band whose hit single When I Die seems appropriate to where Sheppard and McKay are in their relationship right now:

When I die I hope to be A better man than you thought I'd be It's been hard to make you see What kind of man I'm trying to be All I ask for you to try To understand what it means to me It's not hard to understand why you Get discouraged all the time I keep trying not to worry, but I Can't help feeling lost in you But I love you Love you And I need you Time goes by and you'll find That we'll achieve a love sublime

Connecting his mention of the motherlode to the lyrics might seem like a stretch if not for the fact that both McKay and Sheppard seem to quote songlyrics to each other later on. Regardless, it is fitting for the occasion. But then they hit us with a much more obvious reference:

McKay: Only everything you've ever wanted to know about wraith technology but were afraid to ask! Weir: Why are you doing this? Wraith Queen: We have suffered extensive damage. Weir: We could render assistance. Wraith Queen: You would do this?

McKay's response to Weir's question here is interesting, and this one is a clear and obvious reference. McKay is making an intentional reference but why he does it in character and what the writers are trying to communicate with the reference can be different things. The explicit reference is to the 1972 film Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* (*But Were Afraid to Ask), one of Woody Allen's best-known features, and while there are questionable things connected to both him and the film, it belongs to the canon of North American popular culture. While McKay may have seen the film, and surely has heard the title that has been lampooned hundreds of times in different contexts, it is possible that he is not thinking about the film at all here. He is just feeling elated and hence came up with a funny way of answering Weir's question, probably intending nothing by it.

Of course he may have seen the film, and he may even have read the book of the same name it is based on (1969, by David Reuben) because even though it came out when he was still a baby, it was a popular sex manual and perused by people for a long time. The book is... problematic, and yet its popularity was a part of the sexual revolution of the 1960s, of liberating attitudes regarding sex. There are things written about homosexual people and gay sex in the book that are unfortunate but at the same time, it was the first contact many regular people had with homosexuality, where ordinary folks were made to think of gay people as people instead of as predators and reprobates.

It is by far not a progressive book by today's standards and the author himself even updated some of his views later, but it is a book that contains information on homosexuality, gay sex, gay culture and even gay slang and lingo at a time when this information was difficult to come by, when there was no internet a young boy could hop on to figure things out and even libraries did not hold volumes that would have answered their questions. It was many people's first contact to the concept of homosexuality, and while it is certainly not an endorsement of homosexuality, for many curious gay youth it would have been the first place where they got to read about gay sex, how it happened, what kinds of things you could do with another man, where you could meet other people who were like you, what the gay underground was like, what kind of language they used.

It is not accidental that they make the reference to this book because, as discussed in connection with Michael (S02E18), the writers of the show have flirted with the concept of conversion therapy in several episodes and have connected it with Sheppard in particular, weaving it into his tragic backstory. Given when Sheppard was born and the social class his family belonged to, it is entirely possible that he might have been forced to undertake conversion therapy in the early 1980s, during the Reagan administration and the height of the AIDS epidemic -- many young men were. Reuben wrote about conversion therapy:

Couldn’t homosexuals just be born that way? A lot of homosexuals would like to think so. They prefer to consider their problem the equivalent of a club foot or birthmark; just something to struggle through life with. This explanation is a little tragic. It implies that all homosexuals are condemned without appeal to a life some of them say they enjoy so much. Actually for those who want to change there is a chance. How? If a homosexual who wants to renounce homosexuality finds a psychiatrist who knows how to cure homosexuality, he has every chance of becoming a happy, well-adjusted, heterosexual.

This was a commonly held view when Sheppard and McKay were growing up, and it took a lot of time and effort to educate people to see gay people as people. As discussed previously, the therapy even seemed to have worked on Sheppard, at least for a time. He had tried "not being wraith," he had married a woman and joined the most homophobic branch of the US military, he had made every effort to live life on the straight and narrow. In Outcast (S04E15), Sheppard tells his ex-wife: "Well, in his mind, marrying you was probably the best thing I ever did," and if wealthy industrialist Patrick Sheppard had used a lot of his money, power and influence to make sure that his son was "cured," it is easy to see why he would have thought that Sheppard marrying a woman voluntarily had been the best thing he had ever done. But Sheppard was not happy. His ex-wife mentions him taking on the kinds of missions married men are not sent to during their marriage, which tells us that he was deeply unhappy.

It is interesting that the way McKay makes the reference is by replacing the word "sex" with "wraith technology" here, especially because in the very next scene we get an exchange between Sheppard and Zelenka where they talk about reading about sex as a kid in connection with the wraith data. Sheppard volunteers the information that when he had been a kid and got his first encyclopedia, he had started with the letter S, which Zelenka interprets as meaning Sex. Even more curious is that Zelenka actually uses the word "sexuality" instead of sex, as though it had been sexuality that Sheppard had been reading about when he was a kid and got his first book with information on sex. Sex is a taboo subject and so of enduring interest to boys and girls that are reaching maturity. They understandably want to know more about it, and the sex ed of boarding schools in the 1970s likely left a lot to be desired.

And it is especially if and when a boy had questions about sex and sexuality that could not be answered by traditional sources of information, that he could not ask his father about, that it would make sense for Sheppard to have wanted to read about it. Sex is a topic that interests Sheppard, he seems to think about it a lot. He may have thought about it a lot when he was growing up and because he would not have had many role models, would not have had neutral sources of information, it is easy to see how it would be confusing for a boy trying to figure out what sexuality means for him. Teenage years are confusing to everyone but adding to it the lack of information on non-normative sexual orientations and growing up in a social environment where it was condemned, figuring out who he was and what he liked must have been very difficult.* There would have been things about sex he had wanted to know and literally had been afraid to ask.

And for better or worse, Reuben's book was a source of information where many people, both straight and not straight, had their first contact with the topic. It is possible that McKay had read it. It is likely that Sheppard had read it, and it might even be something his conversion therapist would have made him read. And what we are reminded of here is not only that sex is a thing both Sheppard and McKay partake in, but that both of them may have strange ideas and hang-ups related to sex and same-sex relationships that would result from them being misinformed in their adolescence. For a variety of reasons, the two of them have to work much harder to make their relationship work than heterosexual couples, and there are bound to be misunderstandings. The wraith queen admits that they have suffered "extensive damage" here, and that is also true of Sheppard and McKay. They too have suffered extensive damage in their own ways, and this is why the importance of allies, of having people around them who know about their relationship and support them, is so important.

The film that McKay references is a comedy and there is once more a comedic beat to his line here, the happy look on his face disguising the darker implications of the reference.

Weir: We're supposed to have an alliance, aren't we? Sending information on wraith technology was a remarkable act of good faith on your part. Wraith Queen: Your assistance would be... acceptable. Weir: Alright, then. We have a deal.

McKay occupies himself skimming through the data they had been sent while Weir and Sheppard continue their chat with the wraith queen, albeit Sheppard is not saying anything, having said nothing at all after seeming to accidentally snap at the queen and then place himself between her and McKay. As Weir continues negotiating with her, we may note that Sheppard has not moved to stand one inch closer to Weir but instead occupies a space where he blocks the queen's view of the room behind him, of where McKay is bent over a laptop.

We see that Sheppard seems to be making some effort to keep himself calm by how he closes his eyes, how he lifts his chin and takes a deep breath, and it is possible he needs to do this because he seems to realize -- correctly -- that it will be McKay who is asked to make these repairs to the hive, on the hive, as their foremost expert on wraith technology. Three weeks ago Sheppard would not have even considered allowing McKay to go on an occupied hive, especially not without him, but it seems very much like the Lanteans and the wraith are not the only ones with an alliance, that Sheppard and McKay have formed an alliance of their own where they are making every effort of being supportive of each other. They too have made some kind of a deal that has required good faith to be acted on both of their parts. Sheppard may not be happy about it, but he is happy to see McKay happy. It had been a while since he had seen McKay happy like this.

Continued in Pt. 12

-*

"When I was 13, I secretly read my parents’ old copy of Dr. David Reuben’s Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, first published in 1969. Standing nervously at the bookshelf, I was poised to replace the volume quickly if I heard footsteps. The chapter on homosexuality explained, “The homosexual must constantly search for the one man, the one penis, the one experience, that will satisfy him. He is the sexual Diogenes, always looking for the penis that pleases. That is the reason he must change partners endlessly. [In gay marriages] the principals never stop cruising. They may set up housekeeping together, but the parade of penises usually continue [sic] unabated… Mercifully for both of them, the life expectancy of their relationship together is brief.” My face went hot with embarrassment.

I know now that the book was blithe and stupid, but I think many people, gay and straight, assume gay men are worse at maintaining relationships than straight people are." [x]

[reality-detective]

To the Cabal & Those Of Baal Worship

Do you want to know a secret?

- Remember the good ole days when someone had to be wired to gather information for a sting operation?

- Remember how someone would be searched before they entered a high security area for secret meetings you didn't want recorded on record?

- Remember when you could ensure that if someone would speak of what went on you had a way to get rid of them?

I want you to think of a hypothetical technology for second. Let's call it "Bio-Sensory Neural Interface" or "Energetic Biofield Interface" (EBI)

What can this technology achieve?

• The Bio-Sensory Neural Interface (BSNI) technology represents intelligence-gathering methodologies. It leverages the interaction between advanced computational systems and the human energetic biofield to facilitate seamless, real-time communication and data acquisition from human sensory experiences.

• Utilizes sophisticated sensors to interact with the human biofield, capturing and interpreting electromagnetic signals naturally emitted by the body.

• Enables non-invasive interfacing, ensuring the integrity and operational security of the actor.

Real-Time Sensory Data Transmission:

• Converts sensory input (visual, auditory, olfactory, and tactile) into digital data streams, allowing remote operators to experience the actor's environment firsthand.

• Acts as a live sensory transceiver, making the human body a dynamic tool for intelligence collection.

Cognitive Communication:

• Facilitates direct, silent communication between the operator and the actor through thought transmission, eliminating the need for spoken words or physical devices.

• Supports bidirectional communication, enabling strategic planning and real-time adjustments through inner dialogue.

What does this basically mean in more mundane terms?

This basically eliminates the need for physical implants or external devices, reducing the risk of detection and enhancing the safety of the operative in sensitive environments. Which means you could never detect any infiltration apparatus. You could never know who is working for the good guys.

This is one reason why your plans never pan out. This is why you can never quite nail down why something didn't go as planned. This is why you can never trace or track how certain info was shared to those who were never invited to your secret clandestine meetings.

You think because you hold them while a major celebrity is performing in town that the powerful political figures attending would fly under the radar because everyone is distracted with Taylor Swift? You are some funny guys.

BSNI technology is ideally suited for intelligence operations requiring high levels of discretion and security. Its applications extend to military intelligence, covert operations, and high-stakes negotiations where traditional intelligence methods may be impractical or too intrusive. And please avoid trying to look up this technology. This is not what it is called.

This is Mind-to-Mind technology. You all have been caught with your pants down. And now you are way too far behind to catch up to how this could have possibly been used against you. Now you are scrambling. Trying to wonder how you have had to resort to outright assassination attempts. Something that wasn't on the cards before you 1st tried years ago.

Oh' well. You lose. Off to G¡tmo you go. Pain-(☠️) is in your future.

- Julian Assange