#what is a modifier in medical coding

[claxonmedicalcodinginstitute]

What is Medical Coding? Understanding Its Importance in Healthcare

Discover what medical coding is and why it's essential in healthcare. Learn how medical coders translate medical records into standardized codes (ICD-10, CPT, HCPCS) for accurate billing and insurance claims. Explore career opportunities in medical coding and how to get certified. Hashtags: #MedicalCoding #Healthcare #ICD10 #CPTCodes #MedicalBilling #HealthcareJobs #CodingCareer #MedicalCodingTraining

[lalalychee-x]

BOOTHILL D!CK PROFILE ft. headcannons

♡ OK SO! Yk those comments that pop out hex codes about character's cock? Yeah, well, I'm going to do that too. Except its BOOTHILL! 's dick, so there's a few catches. gn!reader. I do actually describe his dick like this in my fics, but here's a PROPER rundown! ♡ BASICS!

girth: #1f2124 (almost-black kind of grey) body: #3b3b3b to #9c9c9c gradient (girth to tip) tip: #1f2124 (almost-black kind of grey) size: undefined/ usually 9-10inch. texture: ribbed/ridged/plated/cold thickness: undefined/ usually 2inch - 2.5inch. foreskin:  no.

BOOTHILL! 's cock isn't made of skin, obviously. It's made of metal plates like his torso, plated a bit like scales. So there's larger and wider plates at the bottom, progressing into thinner ones as you go from girth to the tip. The edge of every metal plate is also coated in rubber, so every edge isn't sharp and can't cut you. 

BOOTHILL! The plating design allows his cock to actually curve and bend like skin.

BOOTHILL! 's tip is made of rubber, like medical-grade silicone! Like thick, dark, smooth silicone molded into a bulbous shape, and surprisingly needs a lot of lubrication to slide in anywhere.

BOOTHILL! 's cock is obviously metal, so that means its hard HARD. God, it (in theory) never really softens, but just stays thick inside you.

BOOTHILL! 's cock isn't just a regular texture, but is ribbed and ridged along the thick of it from the aligning of the plates. And god do they feel good...

BOOTHILL! It's unscrewable. No questions asked. He can get another one made of any design and just screw it on.

BOOTHILL! 's mechanic gets regular requests from you. You messily draw a new design of a dick you want to try with Boothill, begging him to tell his mechanic to make a dick of what you were imagining. Boothill does eventually give in, raising his eyebrows in surprise at what you were asking of him. "Good fudgin' god, darlin'— y'want to do... what?!"  The mechanic is definitely a masc lesbian with tattoos who is now wondering if she should quit her job. 

BOOTHILL! probably doesn't actually wear his cock often; he'd take it off during work because it's just another weak point and he wouldn't risk a blow to the groin.

BOOTHILL! has no actual fixed size, since he can just customise whatever the hell is between his legs. Or not between his legs. But he'd probably go no more than about 9 inches with you, because he doesn't want to hurt you. Expanding from that, he's probably a real sweetie at heart, but will tease the hell out of you to be mean at times.

BOOTHILL! can't (in theory) ejaculate. I mean, where is the substance coming from (pun not intended)? But through a lot of begging, his overworked mechanic agreed to make it work. You still can't get pregnant tho, if that was a possibility for you at all!

BOOTHILL! ...I can't decide if he has balls or not.

Feel free to ask for other characters!

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

[scootingaround12]

So I’ve been on kinda a Star Trek lower decks kick lately and one idea I’ve come across that won’t leave me alone is that Brad Boimlers is an augmented human.

Like maybe one or more of his parents had health issues/problems that they really didn’t want passed down to their child/ would make it so that child wouldn’t survive to adulthood.

But they were still desperate for a biological child of their own so ended up going to some shady doctor/scientist who said that they would rewrite the baby’s genetic code enough so that it wouldn’t have the health issues but still be there’s genetically.

In order to do this they basically had to create DNA that self replicated and healed as the baby lived so that none of the health conditions would kill him. It was partly successful, while Brad is very frail and displays a lot of the health issues and allergies of his parent/s he’s still able to mostly be healthy.

An unforeseen side effect of this was purple hair and that when enough adrenaline is pumping and the body feels like it has to go into survival mode the self healing DNA kicks into overdrive and he’s somehow able to survive experiences that would kill most others.

Seriously he’s come back from death/near death like 3 times and off the top of my head survived falling off a mountain with a local stating he’s the first she’s seen live afterwards in a current episode.

Also this is absolutely me looking way to deeply into a joke but I’m on a roll so hear we go: Mariner makes a comment that no Brad isn’t aging in reverse he just doesn’t get enough vitamins, what if due to his DNA constantly having to repair itself it basically leaches important vitamins and minerals from his body resulting in Brad being underweight and scrawny he also has problem digesting certain foods so has a hard time getting nutrients from that. He definitely should be on some kind of medical grade supplements but he’s delt with it his entire life and to him it’s normal (his parents were not risking taking him to a doctor more than they had to in fear they might find something out).

The whole but about him dying his hair could be him being paranoid about Starfleet listening to logs and him trying to cover his tracks if his hairs ever brought up. Also another person mentioned his admiration of Una to me and watching the episode it honestly felt deliberate with how clearly he hero worships her along with mentioning how he joined star fleet because of her, Una who’s Illyrian species known for it’s genetic modifications.

I’m thinking that Brad is a genetically modified human and starfleet as a strict no augmented humans allowed rule due to past experiences and worries they have about their unstable DNA.

Brad however has always dreamed of being in starfleet so despite the risks joins claiming to be just a regular human who some less than great genetics.

Honestly I think it could also be a really interesting way to show the not so nice and downright prejudice aspects of starfleet as a whole.

Especially if Brad is ever found out, since not only would he be kicked out he’d most likely be arrested for lying to starfleet about being an augmented human.

Starfleet is in no way prepared for the fury that is mariner, Tendi and Rutherford along with the entire cerritos crew coming for them.

[dandylovesturtles]

we're stressed but we remain silly (actually this is super angsty lol)

more Sidelined + Firefight (Firelined???) propaganda for the @tmntaucompetition

Sorry I keep stealing your boys @remedyturtles

Spoilers for chapter 15 of Firefight, cw: for heavy injuries + blood, no actual recounting of how they got the injuries in this fic, though

Please consider voting for us! Thanks!

-----

In the time it takes Donnie and Leo to get medical supplies, it's been decided that they'll be teaming up with the Firefight guys.

The situation has also, somehow, managed to deteriorate.

If Leo thought these guys looked like death warmed over before, now they just look like plain old death. The other Donnie is littered with bloody injuries and his leg is bent in ways it really should not be. And the other Leo...

Leo shudders at the cracks in his shell. He's not sure he wants to know what kind of monster could do that.

The Leo is chirping periodically - help help scared - and the Donnie answers back by tapping on his shell. Leo knows enough now to recognize it as Morse code; trying to calm him, coax him into coming out. It doesn't seem to be working too well.

"...I think we should have brought more medical supplies," says his own Donnie, yanking Leo out of his reverie. "This may not be enough."

"I don't even know where to start," Leo confesses softly. Really, they need to see a doctor, but Leo has no idea where to find one. Maybe one of the older turtles here has more medical experience than they do? But he has no idea who to ask...

"We'll just... do the best we can," says Donnie, and he sounds determined. Leo finally tears his eyes away from their deathly still mirrored versions, the Leo cradled close in the Donnie's arms, to look at his own twin. He's got his jaw set and teeth clenched, like he does when he's gearing up for something particularly unpleasant, and Leo isn't going to let him face it alone.

"Alright." Leo starts laying out their supplies on the bleachers, sorting it for easy grabbing. "Let's see what we can do."

-----

When he tries to take the other Leo away, the other Donnie bites him.

Really, he should have been prepared for that.

It's only hard enough to graze the skin on his arm, but Leo still hisses when it happens. The other Donnie's eyes fly to his face, then widen and let go, which is good, because Leo knows what could have happened if he bit down harder.

He looks horribly guilty, his eyes flying between the Leo in his lap and Leo's own face. His eyes are glassy and he may not be able to fully distinguish between them. So now he thinks he bit the brother who is still chirping periodically - help help scared - and boy does Leo feel like a tool.

He holds up his hands in surrender, rushing to reassure him. "It's okay, that was my bad. I could have telegraphed that way better."

"Excellent work, Leon," chides his own twin, who looks thoroughly unimpressed. He immediately grabs Leo's arm in one hand, then reaches for the disinfectant with another. "We're supposed to be treating their injuries, not yours."

"It's fine, it's just a scrape!" he says, but doesn't actually do anything to stop Donnie from cleaning it. His immune system has been pretty much useless since the armor, and mouths are nasty.

Besides, the gentle attention Donnie is giving his wound, despite his harsh tone, seems to be doing something for the other Donnie. He doesn't loosen his grip on his twin, but something unspools in his posture as he watches, attentive, as the wound is cleansed and covered. Like it's finally clicking for him that they're here to help. That things are... well, better than they were.

Leo gives him his biggest, most reassuring grin, and says, "Yeah, see? We're gonna get you guys all patched up."

Donnie finishes his work, then pulls on a pair of gloves, thankfully already modified for three-fingered hands. He holds out a pair for Leo. "Are your hands steady?"

It's not at all an unfair question. Leo nods. "Yeah. For now, anyway."

Donnie nods back, letting the gloves fall into Leo's palms. "I'll start work with Leo, you take Donnie. Start with the lacerations on his back. I... don't think we can do much for his leg."

"Right."

Donnie steps over and settles down on the bleacher next to the pair, body angled towards them. He holds out his hands for his counterpart to see.

"Hello, Donatello," he says. "Can I start treating your Nardo? I'll keep him right here - you can maintain physical contact if you want."

The other Donnie hesitates. He hasn't spoken since they arrived, his only active communication the continuous taps against his own Leo's shell. It's not surprising - there's no way this situation isn't overwhelming. But it's making this whole process a bit difficult.

Donnie's never let difficulties slow him down, though.

"I swear," he says, clear and steady, "I'll treat him like my own Leo."

The other Donnie looks down at the bloody shell in his lap. Then he looks at Leo, who gives another smile and a little wave from his wheelchair.

Again, it seems to be clicking, and slowly, very slowly, the other Donnie unwraps from around his precious bundle, and lets him go.

His chirps get more rapid when that happens, and the other Donnie's taps get more rapid. They're close enough that he can keep a hand on his Leo's shell easily, can keep up the Morse code, keep telling him that he's safe. It means Leo's going to have an awkward angle to get to the other Donnie's own injuries, but that's alright. He's gotten good at reaching things that aren't convenient.

He wheels himself as close as he can get, then leans over the arm of his chair and gets to work.

It has to hurt, but the other Donnie stays stalwart, all his focus on reassuring his twin, barely twitching as Leo cleans and bandages the wounds. So Leo works in silence, lets him tap away. He knows enough to recognize it, but not enough to know what he's saying. Still, he can take a good guess.

Eventually, Donnie has done all he can to the other Leo, and Leo himself is flagging. His hands had been steady when he started, but this kind of work wears him out quickly - his hand muscles are cramping, and his wrists are sore. Donnie catches on, because he always does, and announces that they'll trade places without leaving room for argument.

So after a little maneuvering, Leo has his counterpart in his lap, while his twin works on cleaning the other Donnie's arms and legs as best he can. The taps are still going, and the chirps still come, here and there.

Leo can't do much to help now, so he tries to help. Tries to think of what would make him feel better, if they were switched.

He looks over at the other Donnie, battered and bruised and bloody, his leg twisted and his breaths wheezing.

And the next time the other Leo chirps, he says, "It's okay. Donnie's safe."

And he says it again, and again, and again, each time he hears the chirp, until-

"You're safe, too, Leo."

He looks up, at his twin, whose hands have stalled in their ministrations. He's looking at the shell in Leo's lap, but for a brief moment his eyes flick up, and they lock, and there's something meaningful there that Leo has to rush to catch.

"You're safe, too."

Leo watches Donnie, for the first time he notices the shake in his twin's hands. And it occurs to him, if it hurts him to see a Donnie in this state, like he's never seen before, then for his twin to see a Leo in this state, when he has-

He takes a shaky breath. The chirp comes again, and this time he says, "Yeah. You're safe. Donnie's safe. It's okay. No monsters here."

They keep it up until Raph and Mikey come back with the chairs and the food and blankets, the ones Leo drapes over his legs to keep them warm. By that point, they've done about all they can, and with some maneuvering they get the other Donnie in the transport chair, and pass his twin back to him, safe in his lap.

He still hasn't made any move to come out, but no one tries to force him.

"Let's ask the staff if there's anywhere these guys can lay down," suggests Raph, and they all nod in agreement to that. The bleachers are not comfortable enough for naps, especially not in the state these guys are in.

"Do you need me to push you, Nardo?" asks Donnie. "You said your wrists were hurting."

"They're fine," he protests, giving his hands a shake. "Don't..."

The word "worry" dies when his counterpart chirps again, and he catches Donnie's flinch when it happens.

"...Well," Leo says, "I guess I could stand to take a break."

His twin looks relieved. Leo's glad one Donnie does, at least.

Donnie grabs the handles of his chair; Raph takes the handles of their teammates'. And with that, they're off.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Data Breach

Read on AO3

Word count: 12.8k

Alternatively titled "Lockdown."

CW: Public partial-nudity, references to sex work, Kidnapping, implied trafficking, threats of violence, anxiety/panic, body horror, brief mentions of medical trauma, character being hunted, brief mention of cannibalism, guns, knives

Notes: Naya "Bambi" Walker and Veronica "Bricks" Mason are my characters. Morgan "Sparrow" Voss belongs to @sentientcave.

I'm very excited because this is my first "complete" fic. And I wrote it within my first year of posting fanfiction! Thanks to everyone who has been here with me through it all!

The genetic and cybernetic enhancements that the public took for granted were a drop in the bucket. No one protested the same-day medical procedures for aesthetics and practicality and security. What harm is a microchip to automate one’s home, modified musculature that needed less exercise to maintain? Who was ever going to protest genetically coded locking mechanisms?

Soldier modifications are a violation of human rights. The deployment of those soldiers isn’t, unless they use their enhanced abilities to commit a war crime. But the process of modification, experimental and unregulated, driven by greed, desperation, a cold war that bled and screamed…

In the early days of accelerated genetics, on the heels of the prosthetic revolution, things had been hellish. Rejected limb grafts.    Explosively contagious viral infections previously rare in humans. Incompatible bones and organs and structures drowning experimental groups in their own fluids. Hunting and prey drives that only became apparent on the battlefield.

The deployment of modified soldiers isn’t a violation of human rights. But if even a single civilian is caught in the crossfire, it’s a war crime.

What the governments of the world did to the men and women who served them - and the populations they were supposed to serve - was a flood of destruction that led to international court-martial and proposed executions.

Only proposed though.

Naya, green around the gills from her latest information dive, wonders if maybe those proposals had more merit than she’d initially thought.

The files she found about the modified joint task forces, the Ghost Team JTFs, are more horrifying than anything she’s ever seen. Bone and dental removal, replacement, and additions. Brain implants, deeper and more invasive than most civilian interface units, which go just under the skin. Increased metabolism, shortening of the digestive tract, automatic injectors with stim packs that keep soldiers awake and lucid through unimaginable horrors.

Her hands shake, spilling tea leaves on the counter as she disconnects from her VPN network. She’d stumbled upon the initial files surrounding what had been Task Force 141 days ago, had quickly skimmed and duplicated their contents to read and review on her own time. Those had been bad enough. Reading about a Scottish soldier, shot in the head and brought back only to have his body altered. Another sergeant suspended in a tank as his genetically altered body attempted and failed to process all of the poisons they wanted him resistant to. A lieutenant who’s frontal lobe was hacked through to make room for a larger processor. The Captain captured and tortured and changed for investigating what was happening to his unit…

And that was before the videos.

Finding more information on Ghost Teams is virtually impossible. Official reports, even the ones she breaks into, list the 141 as defunct. Her fellow archivists don’t have any other information, and aren’t willing to help her dive again.

>>>Flower: even if the GTs are still alive >>>Flower: it’s too dangerous >>>Flower: too many powers want them to stay buried >>>Flower: we’ll lose everything if we go digging >>>Bambi: you don’t have any contacts i could ask? >>>Flower: i‘m sorry bambi

There’s more security, when she returns to the original server, too much for her to feel comfortable to try to force her way in. Her bots identify a couple of devices on the network that might be exploitable - a printer, two coffee machines - but she leaves them alone, for now.

Instead, she trawls conspiracy theory forums for any mention of experimental modifications, missing soldiers, and questionable medical equipment shipments. Experience means her bots filter through everything, which saves her more than a few headaches, but also means that she waits hours before a possible hit. And that hit is a dead end.

The hours turn to days before she’s able to find an abandoned, locked forum with deleted answers to heavily coded questions. The last post is seven years old, ostensibly informing community members of upcoming changes to the forum. The veil over the warning of government surveillance is thinner than tissue paper.

It’s the closest thing she has to a lead, so she makes a new post and sets her bots to monitor it.

>>18|\/|48(Guest): GTJTFs producing new 141 units? Leaked production reports, new specs?

She doesn’t expect a response, but maybe an auto-responder will give her a clue of where to look next. So it’s jarring when she gets an encrypted email with a reply from “dimentionspoker@noreply.co,” an hour later.

new units? have info on old units if you need references. let me know.

—

The middle city isn’t the safest, for all that the well-to-dos topside like to pretend that the truly unsavory elements aren’t that close to their picturesque lawns. Naya’s lived here her whole life, though she’s worked above a time or two. Even so, she’s never ventured this close to the freight shafts down to the docks.

The bar she steps into is loud and smells like liquor and motor fluid. It’s dim, and smoky, and she feels eyes on her as she makes her way to the bar. Her interface lights up with pings and an attempted ID and bank chip skim. All they get for their trouble is her least informative ID tag - Bambi.

The bartender, a large bodied person with the simple tag of Engine, operates behind the bar with four cybernetic arms. There’s no digital queue for her to log in to, or even a service request button on the seemingly organic wood bar. So she stands, hands folded on top of the bar for them to finish pouring drinks and notice her standing there.

Just as the barkeep’s attention slides her way, a warm body presses up behind hers. She stiffens as a the person jostles her to lean heavily on the bar. “Eng! Another for me. And whatever my cute new friend wants.”

A refusal is on the tip of her tongue, but when she looks up into slitted yellow eyes haloed by curled black and purple freeform locs, she gets an encrypted message.

>>>Bricks: Hello Bambi. >>>Bricks: Order a drink and come with me.

—

"They shouldn't be locked up. They're people, not mindless killing machines."

Across the table, under the dim lights, the woman called Bricks cocks her head. She’s a true cyborg, someone who’s modifications are probably keeping them alive. The cybernetics of her left arm extending well into her ribcage. She doesn’t hide it. Under dark overclothes, a slouching shirt exposes the metal of her collarbones, the servos that whir as she breathes. She swirls her glass of Jack and Coke with an amused look on her face as a barely muffled moan pierces through loud music.

Naya takes a deep breath to keep from fidgeting. It took three months to arrange even this meeting with the elusive American arms dealer, in the back of this dingy bar on a busy Friday. She wasn't about to lose the lead just because she could hear lewd comments and barely muffled squeals of pleasure from the nearby hall to the washrooms. The more concerning noise was coming from behind her, anyhow, the thump of knives into a dart board, distressed beeping from the unlucky mini-droid bound to the target.

"You want me to set up a meeting with the Watcher," Bricks drawls, sitting back in her chair. Her pointed cybernetic nails drum against the table. She doesn’t bother to whisper, but both of them have been disrupting any listening devices in range. "So you can make sure that Price's monsters are being treated humanely?"

"They're not monsters," Naya hisses.

"You've never seen them." It's not a question.

"I don't need to see them to know they shouldn't be kept locked in cages."

Bricks freezes with her glass halfway to her lips. Her eyes narrow. “Cages?”

“That’s what I saw.” Gritting her teeth, Naya hisses. “Look. You know what it means to be augmented, what extensive modifications are like. But without anesthesia? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”

“You’d be surprised what I would wish on my worst enemy, sweetheart.” Bricks chuckles and throws back the last dregs of her drink. "But you know what? Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine. You want in so bad? I'll set up a meeting with the Watcher, and Price."

Well. That was easier than expected. "What'll it cost me?"

"Oh, your whole life, probably. Your whole world view, certainly," Bricks chuckles. She gives Naya an obvious once over, gaze lingering on her breasts. "But you don't owe me any more than a quick flash of your tits."

That does make Naya’s confidence falter. "W-what?"

"You heard me. C'mon, give me a little peek, and I'll send a message right now. You can have Price's monsters off their leashes by the end of the week." Bricks grins, slit pupils pulsing wide with interest. "We don't even have to go anywhere, just pull down your shirt a little bit."

"I'm not..." Naya looks around, furtively. "This isn't exactly priv-" She flinches as she's interrupted by a loud moan, followed by a cheer from the rest of the bar.

"You're asking me to let your hands get real dirty, sweetheart." Bricks stands and circles the table to crowd Naya against the wall. She dips down to breathe into her ear. "And unless you want word to spread of a cute, clean cut, little topsider digging into illegal soldier mods, you're gonna pull your tits out and take the money I give you, after, Bambi."

There’s something behind the predatory look in the taller woman’s eyes. A challenge. She’s called Naya’s bluff, hasn’t she? When she refuses, Bricks will send her off with a laugh and a pat on her ass. And she’ll be back at square one, unable to face the danger of diving deeper again.

But Naya’s never been accused of knowing when to back down.

It’s the work of a moment to have the various video feeds in the room start a ten second loop. Her bots use movement patterns to make the video seem natural to anyone not looking closely. Bricks makes an interested noise when the video feed from her cybernetic eye continues showing Naya’s darting eyes and regular breaths. Her organic eye takes in the way Naya’s hands come up to unclasp the front of her shirt.

She takes a deep breath before hooking her fingers into the neck of her undershirt. She looks down as she inches it down to reveal the scalloped edge of her bra, instead of looking to see if Bricks is aroused or amused or some other, worse thing.

Before she can truly expose herself, a warm hand touches her wrist. “So eager. Not even gonna give me a little tease?”

>>>Bricks: Nice trick with the cameras, but you’re going to call attention.

Naya tips her chin up and immediately regrets it when Bricks leans down to meet her. Her breath shivers between their lips. When a metal arm comes up to block her view of the rest of the room, she turns her face away.

>>>Bambi: It’d be more suspicious if I let everyone have a clip for distribution.

“Smart girl,” Bricks whispers against her temple. “Take the credits.”

The fund transfer Bricks initiates has a public comment attached. ‘Classy. Could almost be the real thing.’ Naya glares up at Brick’s smirking face as she accepts the transaction. Two hundred. It feels like too little and too much money at the same time. Almost immediately, she gets inquiry pings from six other patrons the bar.

“And that’s your alibi,” Bricks chuckles, stepping back so quickly that she barely has time to put herself to rights. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

—

Naya tries not to fidget in the freight elevator, down, down, down, into The Throat. Bricks's arm is a possessive weight on her shoulder. On the other side of the lift, a startlingly tall man stares at them through the holes in a cloth sack. When she meets his eyes, something writhes where his mouth should be.

"Eyes to yourself," Bricks growls when he takes a half step in their direction. Her cybernetic arm crackles warningly.

The man visibly considers his options before making a guttural sound. A thick appendage, tongue or tentacle, Naya can’t really tell, pokes out from under the hood. He mutters something she doesn’t understand in under-tongue. Bricks hisses something back, pushing Naya behind her as she takes a threatening step forward. The man flinches, then crowds himself into his corner. He doesn’t even look in their direction for the rest of the descent.

When the doors open, Bricks holds her back until the man leaves, then steers her out into the street. Naya's been under-city before, but not in this bloc. The air is just as stale and hazy as she remembers, but this shaft doesn't see as much vertical commuter traffic as some of the others, so the street is dark instead of lit with neon. The faintest bit of light filters down from straight above.

Groping for something to say, she asks, "Did you know that guy?"

Bricks snorts, keeping an arm around her's waist as she steers her along. "Yeah."

“What did he want?”

She gets an uninterested shrug. “The same thing any bottom dwelling opportunist wants.”

It’s not hard to imagine what she means. When she doesn't say anything else, Naya searches for another topic. She swallows her pride and forces herself to say, "Thank you for setting up this meeting."

"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart. You're gonna hate me soon enough."

"I know it's dangerous for you," she insists as Bricks draws her down a side street. Dangerous is an understatement, if the Ghost Teams are so far gone that they’re experimenting on human beings. "Even if things are hard, moving forward, I appreciate your help."

Bricks doesn't answer. Instead, she knocks on a barred door. It opens a crack, and she and the other person hiss low words at each other. A shining green eye looks Naya up and down, the door shuts, and Bricks draws her away.

They stride, briskly, back to the main street. Bricks asks, "Do you have a respirator?"

"Yes."

"Put it on, don't speak."

Wordlessly, Naya unfolds the mask from her pocket and covers her mouth and nose. Bricks pulls a dark scarf from her shoulders and wraps it around Naya’s head and neck, and then drops a poncho over her head. Somehow, the mercinary looks bigger in just her thin shirt, the muscles and metal in her shoulders more pronounced.

Ten minutes into their silent walk, a man melts from the shadows and starts walking on Naya's other side. Though she can’t see much under his baggy clothes, his gait speaks to digitigrade modifications. When she glances up, he has a faceplate under his own hood. His voice, when he speaks, is robotic. "Bricks."

"Roach."

“You’re looking smug and determined.”

“I’m on a very… interesting job.” An encrypted message gets passed between the two of them, and Naya frowns behind her mask. She shouldn’t be able to tell that a message was sent, though, so she bites her tongue. Bricks smirks down at her, then turns her eyes forward. “What’s on your mind?”

"Shadows are hunting you. Seven thousand credits."

"That's insulting," Bricks dismisses. "Mace take the job?"

"That's insulting," Roach parrots back. Somehow, his metered and inflectionless voice sounds amused. A flurry of encrypted messages flows between them. Once those have finished, he says, "Come see us when your business with the Watcher is done." And then he fades away into the shadows again.

"Good job," Bricks whispers. "Stay silent. Keep taking deep breaths. Walk straight ahead. Don't run." And then she ducks down a side street, leaving Naya alone in the dark.

Fuck.

She keeps putting one foot in front of the other. Measured. Brisk, but unhurried. A couple of people pass on the other side of the street, then a man passes on her side. Under her poncho, she palms her pocket knife, but no one spares her a second glance.

After a full minute, Bricks slides out of the next alley and falls into step with her, a cigarette that smells like real tobacco between her lips. In her cybernetic hand, she has a twitching, bleeding length of what looks like an octopus tentacle the size of Naya’s forearm.

"You can talk now,” she says. “But you don't want to ask about this."

—

The respirator makes a lot more sense when Naya is led to a shaft to the Belly.

She’s never been to the middle level of the true undercity. Technically, no one should live in this industrial level, so there’s very little in the way of individual commerce and amenities. There is an abundance of dead “topsider tourists” every year, mangled and hacked to drain all of their resources before anyone can realize that they haven’t come home.

This lift is much smaller, just big enough for her to stand behind Bricks as the woman primes her arm. The edge of a plasma knife glows blue from within the mechanics of her bicep. When Naya activates the plasma in her own knife, Bricks looks over her shoulder at the near silent hum.

“You ever use that before?”

“Once.”

That earns an interested noise as the other woman faces forward again. “On a person?”

“…No.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” is all she says about that as the elevator shudders to a stop. “Stay behind my right arm. If I tell you to drop, you fall to the ground and don’t move until I tell you.”

When the door opens, it’s into a pitch black alley. The only light is the obscured gleam from with Brick’s left shoulder. Something in the darkness hisses. Bricks strides forward, and Naya has no choice but to follow after.

They walk for a few minutes without incident before Bricks knocks on a nondescript door. Next to it, a biometric scanner creaks open and scans one of her eyes, then one of her metal fingers. Naya flinches at the noise of a series of locks grinding open.

A stern faced blonde woman is on the other side of the door when Bricks gestures Naya inside. She’s not wearing a respirator, but then, neither is Bricks. The woman doesn’t say anything, so Naya doesn’t either. She just waits for Bricks to finish securing the door, then returns to her spot just behind her.

“Watcher,” Bricks greets with clear good humor. “I brought you a little something.”

Naya huffs a surprised breath from her nose, but stays silent. The Watcher. The overseer of at least one of five active Modified Task Forces. She looks so… normal. A woman in her mid forties, maybe, face lined with stress but open. Naya feels a little thrown off. When the lights flicker, however, she catches the red shine of a cybernetic eye. Whatever mods she has, they’re hidden so well that Naya can’t even sense them.

The Watcher’s eyes scan her for a moment before she’s looking back to Bricks. Naya only has a moment to wonder why she hasn’t been pinged before she asks, “Alive?”

“You always pay more when they’re alive.”

What? Naya stumbles backwards until she hits the door. “What?”

Bricks throws a grin over her shoulder. “I told you not to thank me.” Turning back to the Watcher, she says, “Thirty thousand credits. Had a run in with the King on the way here.”

“No one told you to bring her alive. Fifteen, and we void the Shadows bounty on you.”

“Twenty five. You want her alive, trust me. And I can handle the Shadows on my own.”

Naya gapes at the two of them. A quick glance over her shoulder and query to the door confirms that the locks won’t open again without a lot more force than she could manage, even if she wouldn’t have to fight Bricks to get out. And the Watcher… isn’t motivated to let her live. Fuck. The little knife in her hands feels less than useless.

“She wanted to meet you,” Bricks continues, crossing her arms. “And Price.”

That makes the Watcher pause and look over Naya again. “Oh?”

“She used his name,” Bricks confirms. “Real skilled code-breaker.”

“Hm.” The Watcher frowns, then says. “Thirty thousand is a low ball offer, then.”

“She thinks you’re keeping the task force in cages,” Bricks chuckles. “I want to watch when she sees them for the first time.”

That gets a huff of amusement. “Thirty thousand and a show… Deal. Bring her.”

When the Watcher turns away, Bricks looks back at Naya with a surprisingly gentle smile. “Good job. Now comes the hard part. Let’s go.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” she doesn’t want to walk forward, but there’s not much else to do. She tries to stand away from Bricks, but it’s hard in the narrow hallway.

“Nothing, now,” Bricks laughs. “Got you through the door alive, and Watcher can always use a code breaker.”

It’s hard not to feel stupid. Naya struggles to keep her voice even. “So this was just… a bounty for you?”

“Better me than König.” Bricks wiggles the tentacle that she’s still holding in metal fingers. “And better now than when an actual bounty was on your head. Diving into secure government information brings out the worst kind of trouble. The Shadows would have killed you in your bed. Kortac would have chipped you, if they decided keeping you was worth it. This way, everyone gets what they want.”

“Except me,” Naya points out.

“You’re still alive, for now,” the Watcher points out from a few steps ahead, without looking back. “Considering the problems you’ve caused me, it’s tempting to kill you myself. But Bricks is right. I can always use a Breaker.”

“I don’t do that professionally,” Naya protests weakly.

The Watcher doesn’t break stride. “You do, now.”

They get into another elevator, big enough for eight people. There aren’t any floor indicators, but as soon as the doors close, it starts to descend. Wrapping her arms around herself, Naya shivers. At this rate, she realizes, she may never see the sky again. She’ll be locked in a cage next to the 141, underground, let out to circumvent code for… what? To support more killing? More human experimentation? If she doesn’t cooperate, will they experiment on her? Put a processor in her brain to erase everything about her except for her skill?

Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, and she can’t help a sniffle.

“None of that,” comes the surprisingly gentle voice of the Watcher. When she approaches, she puts a gentle hand on Naya’s shoulder. “You’re here now. There’s no going back. But we take care of our own.”

Bricks snorts. “For given values of taking care of. You are keeping the boys in cages after all.”

“That’s not helpful,” the Watcher says, producing a tissue from her pocket and dabbing at Naya’s eyes. She pushes the makeshift hood back and gently removes her respirator, scanning her face with hard blue eyes. Eventually, she asks, “Why did you come here, Bambi?”

Shoulders coming up around her ears, Naya gets the feeling that because I’m an idiot isn’t the answer she’s looking for. She looks down at her sensible shoes, bracketed by the Watcher’s own worn work boots, and confesses, “Bricks said I could meet with you, and Price. And… I thought I could… encourage you to treat the modified soldiers more like people than animals.”

“And I suppose this encouragement was going to come with a threat to leak records to the public?” The Watcher’s mouth twitches into a sardonic smile when Naya looks up at her again. “Bold.”

Bricks chuckles. “Naive.”

“Hopeful. And some of the best plans are the simplest,” the Watcher dismisses.

Naya wouldn’t call her plan to connect to the building’s intranet and threatening to disrupt all of the life support systems “naive.” Now that she’s locked in, it feels like a distinctly hopeless course of action. She’ll have to think of something else, fast.

The Watcher steps away as the elevator comes to a stop. The doors open into a large control room, huge observation windows giving a 360 degree view out into dimly lit halls. Bricks ushers Naya out, heavy hands on her shoulders, until she pushes her into a chair facing a window to the left side of the room.

“Did we miss feeding time?” Bricks grins and pulls a puzzle ball from her bag. Her cybernetic hand twitches and whirs as it clicks through combinations.

“Luckily for Bambi, yes.”

Before Naya can ask what feeding time entails, something drops from the ceiling on the other side of the glass, startling a yelp from her. It’s a man, tall and lean, slitted eyes shining a red orange as he stares at her face through the glass. He’s half dressed, only in loose pants. Thick, dark streaks of something wet cover his chest and splatter down his legs. The grin that splits his pretty face puts three pairs of sharp canines on display, stained red.

The Watcher pushes a button, an intercom. “Gaz.”

“Who’s this cute little thing, Laswell?” Naya shivers as Kyle “Gaz” Garrick looks her up and down. He looks just like his personnel file, except for a wildness around his eyes that changes his face from welcoming to something dangerous. “Could practically smell her from the street.”

“Back away from the glass, you’re filthy. What the hell did you roll in?”

The man ignores the Watcher, face going soft as he leans down to get on a level with Naya. “Hello, honey. Such a pretty girl, what are you doing down here? You a friend of Bricks?”

Something about his crooning voice makes Naya’s hair stand on end. At the same time, she finds that she can’t look away from the man’s eyes as he tilts his head. They’re such an interesting color, and he keeps shifting ever so slightly in ways that draw her eyes to follow. He jerks quickly to one side when her eyes dip down to the red and brown splashed down his chest, then smiles when she looks back at his face. His teeth - even the extra ones - are perfect and red. Naya’s heart beats a little faster.

A loud pop and sudden flash makes Naya jump as Gaz reels back with a snarl.

“I told you not to touch the glass,” the Watcher grumbles. “Clean up. Make yourself presentable. And remind the others to put their masks on.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” he hisses. With one last, sweet smile to Naya, he turns and strides away before leaping up to grab an exposed beam and hoist himself into the shadows above the observation room. He disappears in the space of a moment. No matter how Naya squints, she can’t tell where he’s gone.

“Don’t look any of them in the eye,” Bricks whispers from close behind, chuckling at the way Naya jumps. “They’re predators, sweetheart, and you’re the sweetest bite of prey they’ve had in a long while.”

“Bricks,” the Watcher (Laswell?) chides. “Get her keyed in. Bambi, you’re not to be alone in here. We’ll get you interfaced with security so you know how to do a lockdown sequence before you’re introduced to the Task Force.”

When she’s handed an interface chip, Naya blanches. “I can’t, I don’t have a hard disk reader. Why do I need to know the facility’s lockdown sequences?”

“There’s no where in this facility that they can’t get,” Bricks replies, distracted as she opens a floor panel to extract a series of wires, and what looks like a very robust integration cable. “And if you’re going to work here, you’re going to need to be able to keep them from dragging you off and eating you.”

“Bricks.” Laswell snaps. To Naya she explains,    “Everyone who works here needs to know how to lock down in case of emergency.”

Naya gapes. “Emergencies? They can - They’re not -! They have full access to the facility?”

“Of course. They can get out of the facility, too,” Bricks snickers. “Who’s going to stop them?”

“Bricks!”

“All of the records say that they’re severely restricted.” The tight squeak in Naya’s voice is undeniable. “What do you mean they could eat me?”

“Old records,” Laswell answers without looking. A terminal lights up under her fingertips. “The only way the SAS would let us keep the facilities without bomb chips. Let me know when you’re ready for input.”

“The part about eating me?” Naya flinches as Bricks circles behind and pushes her hair up to expose the port beneath her left ear.

“If you’re as good as I think you are, you don’t have to worry about that,” Bricks says, shoving the cable into place. “Go.”

“What-”

Laswell launches the integration before she can get the question out. Naya’s whole body jolts, brain flooded with sudden input. She doesn’t dive into the data so much as she’s dragged under the tidal wave of the facility.

The whole structure unfolds around her, five floors, twelve stories down, three shafts up, two elevators, one stair. She’s in the observation tower, which descends three more floors. Heat, cooling, air filtration, power, food storage, office of Watcher One Kate Laswell, office of Bravo One John Price, research labs east and south, conference rooms, break rooms, sleeping quarters, inventory, directory of personnel.

Access Denied.

It’s nothing to shuffle the alert away. Asset Records. Veronica “Bricks” Mason, Gary “Roach” Sanderson, Mason “Mace” Ward, [Redacted] Nikto, Morgan “Sparrow” Voss. The list goes on. Task Force 141. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John “Soap” MacTavish, John “Bravo One” Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley. Vital statistics steady, duplicate identification signals, three dead copies, one living set. Security, kill switch overrides. These doors won’t close, but they’ll tell the observation tower that they have. Interesting.

Diving a layer deeper, she observes three separate security records. One is distressingly familiar, the records she’d found before, that spurred her to find Bricks, full of echoes of old code, now that she can see it. Then the one with logs going to Watcher One Kate Laswell, current and accurate. Except that the third log indicates security discrepancies and pings to KGKLJMJPSR. She logs the discrepancy on her own, internal system, a reminder to see if she can piggyback on someone else’s clearance.

Now that she’s thinking about it, she scans for what her clearance is supposed to have access to. It’s the second level, the one that doesn’t actually close the security doors surrounding the servers, sleeping quarters, and the observation tower. Well, that won’t do. She makes a digital copy of KL’s access and patches it into her own.

Just as she finishes, four ID tags simply labeled “Ghost” enter the lowest observation tower floor. That’s a glaring red security alert, and it only doubles in urgency as he accesses the hatch to the system port cable.

“Oh, that’s bad,” she hears herself say aloud as she gropes, blindly for the cable in her neck. “Ghost is accessing, I need to disconnect before he-“

Three more security alerts come up as the ID tags for Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap appear around the top floor of the observation tower, their floor. Naya quickly circumvents the overrides on the blast doors, and half observes rolling shutters covering the windows as Laswell makes a startled noise. Unfortunately, Ghost finds her while she’s distracted.

And he is a ghost, sliding between the layers of Naya’s own security code like a cold breeze. He rifles through her ID cards before she can even try to lock down. When she tries to lock him out of her interface, he slams through so fast it sends her reeling. Unfortunately for him, and for her, he trips over her Brain Blast in the process. The packet of musical theater data explodes to override everything she’s connected to, knocking her out of her connection to the facility and blaring Ohmigod You Guys through the speaker systems of the facility.

“What the fuck,” Veronica Bricks Mason shouts, covering her ears.

“Sorry, sorry,” Naya yelps. She manually reopens her access to the facility and cuts the sound. Her head spins with new information that she doesn’t have time to let her organic brain process. Ghost is nowhere to be found, but she doesn’t wait around to see where he pops up again before locking herself down and physically removing the cable from her neck. “Ghost tripped my security protocol.”

“You shouldn’t be able to influence any part of the facility,” Watcher One Kate Laswell observes. “Which means you’re every bit as good as Bricks says you are. Why did you lock down the tower?”

“Just this floor,” she answers absently, looking around as her interface flashes and labels new data points about her surroundings. It takes a moment for her to filter through everything enough to focus. “Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap were approaching as Ghost tapped in on the bottom floor.”

“I should have charged more,” Asset:Mason chuckles.

“Maybe you should have, Veronica,” Naya replies without thinking.

The woman just laughs. “Oh ho ho, you’re even better than I thought.

Watcher One Laswell drums her fingers on the table. “You don’t have a hard disk reader. Can you still access the facility without a hard line?”

Naya has to shake her head before she runs a quick system check. A ping to the 141 Facility gets a happy little ping back. “Yeah. My, um… my interface is a bit more robust than standard.”

Watcher Laswell nods. “Noted. Reset the security settings.”

Naya almost does it on autopilot, but stops herself. Running a quick check, she shivers. “They’re still out there. Three of them.” When Laswell only nods, she nudges the blast doors and security shutters to open. It takes a moment, but eventually they start to rumble to life.

Worryingly, when she can see through the windows again, Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap are no where to be found. The only active vitals in the facility say they’re right across the glass from where Naya is sitting. It sends a chill down her spine. Diving through the facility systems, she had felt untouchable. But she’s been outmaneuvered again. Unless…

She stands and leans closer to the glass, looking up into the shadows above.

Three pairs of eyes shine down at her from the darkness.

“They’re up there,” Naya whispers. When Laswell simply answers in the affirmative, she activates the intercom with a gulp. “Um. I’m sorry about the noise.”

“That’s quite alright, sweetheart,” a deep voice answers. “Ghost has a way of startling pretty girls. And I quite like a bit of theater.”

Well it’s not Gaz, and there’s no hint of a Scottish accent. “Are you… Bravo One? John Price?”

“You are a clever one.” One of the pairs of eyes squints and tilts. Another shuts, and doesn’t open again. Soap’s tags move a short ways away as Price continues. “Bricks says you asked to meet me.”

“Yes, sir,” Naya says, and then remembers too late that Bricks said not to meet their eyes. She tears her eyes away and jumps at the sight of John “Soap” MacTavish standing a few feet down the hall in front of her.

He looks good, surprisingly so. His hair is long, braided mohawk shining. A gleaming scar is the only indication of the wound that almost killed him. He’s healthy, big and bulky and dressed casually in black joggers and a tight black tshirt. Bright blue eyes with crossed pupils scan her face with interest. When he grins at her, his sharp teeth flash with titanium augments.

“Gaz wisna exaggeratin,’ ye smell quite nice, Bambi,” Soap purrs.

“What part of ‘masks on’ don’t you all understand?” Laswell grumbles.

“They’ve already got her scent,” Bricks snickers. “Did Ghost get your tags Bambi?”

“He did,” Price confirms from above. “Naya Walker, also known as Bambi. Computer scientist, you’ve sold a couple of database systems. Quite impressive.”

A pit opens in her stomach. Ghost had access to her system for less than three seconds. Her throat is tight when she says, “Thank you, sir.”

“So polite,” Gaz chuckles from above. “Come say hello, doll.”

Naya chances a glance back at Kate, then looks back at Soap, then up at the single pair of shining eyes above as Price’s ID winks away from your awareness. “I’m not sure I have clearance for that.”

“You didn’t have clearance to know about this facility,” Gaz points out. “And yet, here you are. Pretty as a picture.”

“Jesus,” Bricks mutters as Laswell makes a startled sound. “We really should put a bell on you.”

And then a huge hand presses against the glass next to Naya’s face. She startles backwards and runs into a huge, solid body, and yelps as a strong arm catches her about the waist.

“Caught ya,” a fourth, deeper voice rumbles above her. His other hand catches both of her wrists and immobilizes her as she stares at dark brown stains up to his wrists. “Been teasin’ us f’ months, dippin’ in an’ out ‘f m’code. So careful, li’l fawn. But not careful enough.”

“Ghost,” Laswell says. The whine of a plasma weapon being primed pierces through the otherwise silent room. Naya squeezes her eyes closed.“Hands off. That’s my Breaker.”

“’S’at so?” Ghost bends down, so far down, it seems, to drag the tip of his nose along Naya’s temple. “Seems she moight be mine, since I invited ‘er.”

“Speaking of,” Bricks interjects. “I’ll take my finder’s fee, now.”

“Bricks.” Laswell hisses.

“Transfer’s cleared, Bricks,” John Price says with a chuckle. “Pleasure doing business, as always.”

Like Gaz and Soap, Captain Price is bigger than his file made him seem. They’d shaved him, when they had replaced some of his bones with metal, but now his facial hair is as full and vital as the rest of him. This close, Naya can see the mechanics whirling within his eyes.

Leaning against his free side, Gaz licks his lips with a tongue that seems too long. But she only sees them for a moment before she’s being turned around, still wrapped in Ghost’s arms.

On the left side of the room Bricks lounges in a chair, tossing and catching and cycling through the combinations on her ball. She’s grinning like she’s gotten away with murder. Maybe she has - she’s been paid three times today for possibly the easiest bounty of her career. Across from her, Laswell holds a glowing knife in a loose grip by her side, shooting an annoyed glare at the other woman.

“What the hell is this?” Laswell hisses.

“You told us to stop hunting your techs,” Price chuckles.

“Bambi is mine,” Kate reiterates, glaring out the glass.

“Just a wee taste, Watcher,” Soap burrs from somewhere. “Ghost is code breaker enough, ye dinnae need another.”

Naya feels her entire body go cold. She takes a deep breath, reconnects with the facility, and runs Flash_Bang.exe.

—

The underground building has a straightforward layout, but that’s dangerous. Naya flicks away the alert when Ghost manages to patch his way back into the facility and silence the music - fuck, it only took him twenty eight seconds? - and ducks under a desk in the office she broke into, one floor down.

It’s hard to stay one step ahead of him, but her spiders and bots repair the five second camera feed loops as soon as he forces the cameras back online. He only wastes time breaking a third of the bot codes before he seems to realize that they’re replicating and switches to tagging, leaving them to run their processes.

It takes two agonizing seconds for her to open the audio relay from the observation tower without revealing her location to Ghost’s sweeping pings.

“-vilian running wild and scared through a secure facility, John.” Kate snaps.

“I thought she was your new breaker,” Gaz snickers. “Not really a civilian.”

“Nae,” Soap interjects. Naya is glad she doesn’t have video to see the nasty smile she can hear in his voice. “Watcher’s right. We cannae let her get too far.”

“She’s fucked the cameras,” Ghost chuckles. “Could get them back online, but it’d take some time.”

Price hums. “Location?”

“West labs’re pingin’,” Ghost answers. He sounds pleased. “Don’t mean much. She’s got bots spoofin’ her IDs.”

“Smells like she’s gone to the east wing,” Gaz purrs. “Lots of classified documents that way, Laswell. Hate to think of what she might come across if she makes it down to the third floor.”

There’s a tense silence before something slams. Eventually, Laswell hisses, “Fine. Bring her back. Alive and unharmed.”

“No promises,” Soap laughs.

Naya scrambles from her hiding spot as she confirms that the cameras in this south wing hall are looped. She needs to get back to the north side of the facility to get to the stairs that might take her up and out. But first she needs to get them off her trail… Somehow.

There’s a janitor closet two doors down, and she spoofs the signal to unlock the door just long enough to slip through it. She looks for bleach and prays it will be enough to mask her scent, then curses to herself when she realizes the bleach will be an obvious mark of her presence. She can’t just erase herself in the physical world the way she can, digitally.

An encrypted message alert calls her attention.

>>>Bricks: Soap will run at you directly. Gaz likes to ambush. Good Luck!

“I c’n see that, Bricks,” Ghost rumbles.

“She’s already at a disadvantage,” the mercenary chuckles. “Poor little thing, you’re going to eat her alive.”

“Oh, she’s not as harmless as all that,” Price laughs. “Took over the whole facility, gave Ghost the slip-“

“I let her go,” Ghost interrupts.

“Set up the meeting so there’d be no one here but us. Got her hands on the codes she thought would let her take control of us, the mindless killing machines.” John continues. He chuckles. “She’s a smart little thing.”

“She got the deadswitches?” Bricks sounds genuinely surprised.

“Command codes. The first ones,” Ghost confirms. “Duds, since we don’t have the chips, but she don’t know that.”

Well, she does now. Naya grabs three bottles of bleach and puts her respirator back on as her mind races. Part of what made soldier modifications so disgusting were the control processors. The irony of finding out that the 141 had somehow removed theirs was not lost on her. They’re already as free as she’d hoped to help them be, and they’re using that freedom to hunt her like animals.

The IDs for Soap and Gaz are still a floor above, moving slowly, following her trail. Ghost and Bravo One are still in the observation tower. She opens one bottle and rolls it back down the hall she came down, then jogs the other way, splashing the bleach as she goes. The observation tower in the center of the floor has mirrored glass, spiking her heart rate every time she catches sight of herself out of the corner of her eye. It’s so jarring that she almost doesn’t realize Gaz and Soap are coming out of the nearest elevator.

She ducks into an office just as the bell dings around the corner.

“Ach, that’s nae very nice, Bambi,” Soap calls. When he speaks next, it’s muffled, likely by his own respirator. “Ghost, she’s scent bombed the whole steamin’ floor. Where is she?”

“Don’t be lazy, Johnny,” Ghost chuckles. “’Ardly a hunt if there’s no challenge.”

“She’ll want the stairwell,” Gaz says. “Lock it down.”

“Already done,” Ghost says. “But locks aren’t exactly a deterrent, if you ‘aven’t noticed.”

“Bottle rolled down this hall,” Gaz says. “So she probably took the other.”

“Aye, that’s what she wants us to think,” Soap chuckles. “I’ll clear this side.”

Naya holds her breath as heavy footsteps start toward her hiding spot, then go so light she almost can’t hear them. She watches the light under the door and resists the urge to flinch at the appearance of a shadow. The man - Soap’s ID sits like a brand so close to her own in her interface - lingers by the door for a long moment then moves on. He’s so quiet that she keeps the map of the floor up to watch his progress. He’s listening for her, she realizes, stopping at each door. She’s lucky that the air circulation vents are above the door, or he might have heard her heart racing.

When Soap and Gaz each turn corners to start investigating the south wing, Naya finally lets herself take more than the shortest breath. She eases the lock open with a flinch at the mechanical click, but neither Soap nor Gaz change their trajectory. When she opens the door and peeks out, the hall is empty. So she eases her way out, crouches low, and shuffles as fast as she can to the stairwell.

She gives the locks three scans before coding them to unlock. The light turns green without incident. She waits for a moment. Soap and Gaz move just a bit farther away. Naya breathes a silent sigh and eases the door open.

“Got her,” Ghost says. “She’s in the stairwell.”

Above her, a door slams open. Naya yelps and starts jogging down the stairs before she can hear what Captain Price yells down at her. She brute forces her way through the lock codes for the third floor and pulls the door open, throwing her bottle of bleach at the wall before slamming it shut. She trips every proximity alarm she can, leading west through the third floor as she throws herself down the next flight. At the fourth floor door, she creates a signal loop, mindful of the door sensor she’d overlooked before. She hears Gaz and Soap slam through the second floor door open just as the door to the fourth closes behind her.

Too late, she realizes that she can’t hear into the tower anymore, and the map of this floor is all static in her interface. The schematics she had before are corrupted - Ghost’s doing, most likely. She can still see the locks on the doors, the terminals connected to the intranet in the various offices. It will have to be enough.

She darts into the eastern wing of the floor and realizes that no, it won’t be enough. The layout is different than the upper floors. The observation tower has no windows in this direction to speak of, for one. And the cameras are few and far between. The doors are also farther apart, and low pile carpet gives way to hard linoleum.

When she turns the corner, she gasps and ducks. Not that it would have helped any. She’s faced with a gymnasium, weight machines and benches and treadmills like a normal gym, except with weights so large it’s almost comical. There’s no one here, but the open space feels like a threat all the same. She turns tail and jogs back toward the observation tower.

As she turns south, she realizes that the tower has no windows on this floor. It’s not a relief, not really. Even if no one can see her, she’s trapped. Gaz and Soap are still looking for her, one floor up. How long will that last? The bleach trick can only work for so long, probably. And Ghost is good, it’s only a matter of time before he breaks into the camera bot code and finds her. How is she going to get up, past the first floor, let alone the next twelve flights of stairs to the streets of the Belly.

God, how is she going to make it home?

Her vision blurs with tears before she can finish taking her next breath.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpers before a hiccup jolts through her. Her breath shudders from her throat as she swipes at her eyes. “No, no, keep it together, it’s gonna be okay. I can figure this out, I can. I can, it’s okay.”

“Bambi? Talk to me,” Brick’s serious voice comes through, suddenly, fuzzy but definitely there. “Those sound like tears, sweetheart.”

Naya sobs, she can’t help it. It’s a few seconds before she can force more words out. “Why did you do this to me?”

“You asked me to bring you,” Bricks reminds her with a soft chuckle. “Didn’t know you were gonna try to take over the whole facility, or I might have set something else up. But if you come out now -“

A hand touches Naya from behind and she screams, throwing a HardReset packet into the space before she can even wonder if that would have any impact on Soap or Gaz. When she whirls around, though, a man she doesn’t recognize is slumped against the wall, barely keeping the weight of a bricked cybernetic leg from dragging him to the floor. Her interface has a moment to tell her this is “Mace,” before she’s darting around him and running again.

“Fuck!” the man shouts. “Watcher what the fuck- No, I’m on the fucking training floor, why the hell-“

“Bambi,” Bricks shouts, “Do not go into the w-“

She slams the connection shut and tries, unsuccessfully, to wipe her tears away. The distraction is probably why she doesn’t realize she’s heading north, but she knows her mistake as soon as she hears the stairwell door open.

She screams again, right in Gaz’s face, can’t help it now that she’s finally made noise. She dodges his reaching hand and bolts, knowing she can’t outrun him, but what else can she do?

“Shite. Ghost!” Soap calls. “Lock it doon!”

Naya dives through a blast door as it slides shut, ignoring the myriad of voices that shout at her. Through the panic, she terminates all of her bots and slams all of her processing power into separating Ghost from the security access from the floor. He puts up a fight, but another BrainBlast and FlashBang gives her the two seconds she needs to take control.

An alert flashes.

<<Message from: WatcherOneKL. Accept?>>

Sitting on the floor, panting and sniffling, she gulps a deep breath. Someone pounds on the door, but it’s solid, and Ghost can’t get past her bots to regain control. She’s safe.

—

In the observation tower, Price frowns at the data pad in his hands. “Ghost, Bricks. Where did you say you found Ms. Walker?”

“Found us, really,” Ghost mutters, focused on the 3D hologram of the facility. Bambi’s ID markers dance all over the place. He’s running algorithms to try to find a pattern, but she’s three steps ahead, it seems. “Set out a lure and she tore through it like tissue paper. An’ then she made a forum post lookin’ f’r information on soldier mods.”

“Scrubbed everything clean,” Bricks adds. “We couldn’t find her for days after she blew through everything. I got lucky that I found the forum post, it didn’t even trigger Ghost’s spiders.”

Price hums. “And… did either of you confirm which hacker group she’s a part of?”

“Didn’t really have time,” Bricks answers with a shrug. “As soon as I confirmed who I was, she demanded to meet Laswell, and you.”

“Interesting. Any of you ever hear of a group called the Archivist Collective?”

Laswell frowns. “Collective for Anarchy?”

“No.” Price shakes his head. “Archivist Collective. It’s the only thing coming up with her background check. And she’s not a known member of any of the major hacking groups.”

Bricks shrugs. “Obviously, she’d use another alias.”

“No,” Price says again, walking over to show Laswell and Bricks the data pad. “None of her aliases are connected with anything but this Archivist Collective. And their only mission is to ‘Counter censorship through the collection, preservation, and dissemination of contested and classified texts.’”

Ghost makes an interested noise and leaves the hologram to start another terminal whirring. “Let’s see what they’ve got then -… oh.”

Bricks sits up from her sprawl. “Oh?”

“They’ve got an archive. Barely any security at all. Hosted on the GaiaPet: Craft servers.”

“GaiaPet?” Kate frowns. “Isn’t that a… virtual pet game? Where people make things with voxels? Procedurally generated…. They’re definitely robust enough servers for cyberattacks-“

“It’s jus’ a fuckin’ library,” Ghost grunts, navigating through. “Huge text files, embedded images. Some of it’s definitely classified. But tha’s oll… Oh, shite. Jus’ found our records.”

Bricks looks from the terminal in Price’s hand, to Ghost, and back. “Wait. John, you said she sold a couple of database systems. She’s got to be working with some data brokers, at least.”

“This says she developed and sold literal systems,” John says, horror dawning on his face. “A spreadsheet editor and a UI designed to organize complex data sets. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t sell information. Everything she’s got, besides those systems, is open source.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ghost breathes.

Kate strides up to look at his screen. “What?”

“She’s got an active account on GaiaPet. A pet frog named Señor fuckin’ Snuggly. Her last login was today, and her chat with the AI said ‘Wish me luck, if we can’t get those soldiers released, we can at least get the information out there.’”

The silence in the room is palpable. And then Bricks says, “Bambi? Talk to me. Those sound like tears, sweetheart.”

—

Naya keeps her arms wrapped around her knees until she stops shivering. In that time, two more message request alerts pop up, from BravoOneJP and GhostSR. All of them are marked maximum priority, and she has no desire to touch them. She can see the signal burst of Bricks trying to talk to her, but she’s muted the feed so that she can just have… a single second to breathe.

Her interface pushes everything away to prioritize an SOS signal, then automatically begins transcribing the subsequent Morse code message.

SOH. West wing dangerous stop. Battle androids stop. 15 active 20 inactive stop. GSR give code for control stop. Confirm stop. SOH. West wing dangerous stop. Battle androids stop. 15 active 20 inactive stop. GSR give-

She minimizes the message and sucks in the deepest breath she can, holds it, and forces herself to focus on her body. If she thinks about fifteen battle droids on this side of the door while modified soldiers hunt her on the other, she’ll start screaming and never stop. A part of her wants to lay down and just… give up. A big part. The whole part.

She opens the message from Laswell.

Bambi: You’re in a hazardous section of the facility. Ghost is standing down, for your safety. You will have to establish connection with the control tower to gain codes for control of battle -

Naya deletes the message and opens the one from Price. It’s more of the same, a demand that she open communication, a warning that the west wing of the floor is dangerous. She almost doesn’t open the message from Ghost, but… she doesn’t have much to lose.

She jumps when the message contains an audio file.

“Bambi, fuck, we didn’t know you was a literal archivist. Bricks an’ I fucked up. This is a truce, a suspension of hostilities. SOH. The training floor you’re on is fuckin’ dangerous, Bambi. Too dangerous for me to try t’ take it from you. You gotta take control of the droids. I can’t fuck wit’ ‘em while you’re in control of the space. I managed to confirm shut down of 20, but there’s 15 more. I c’n try to send the control codes this way, but the codes expire every 2 seconds. Better if you open comms. If you can’t, Morse confirmation, I’ll send the codes. Once you grab one, the rest will come for you. You’re fuckin’ fast, I know you can do it, but if you have an issue, open the door an’ Soap and Gaz’ll support.”

She’d rather be shot full of holes by military grade turrets than open the door. Her map of the facility is complete again, and she can see four IDs on the other side of the barrier. Soap, Gaz, Mace, and the redacted asset, Nikto, mill around, pacing between the blast doors and the central tower. But no one is pounding on the door or trying to open it, physically or otherwise. When she checks, her bots are idly cycling through access code randomization, but there’s no attempts at a breach.

Maybe Ghost is telling the truth?

She sends a Morse message.

Received stop. Hold for confirmation stop.

The answer is immediate.

Received stop. Holding for confirmation stop.

Does she want to open the comms? What if it’s a trap? Without knowing how long the code chains are, she’s at a disadvantage without a direct link to the tower. But if she opens connection to the tower, how can she guarantee that Ghost won’t command the androids to terminate her? On the other hand, if he is telling the truth, and the codes expire that fast, there’s no way she can locate and override that many machines that are actively trying to keep her out in time. And they are definitely trying to keep her out - her spiders have been able to confirm twenty units on standby, and fifteen empty holding stations, but there’s no sign of the other droids.

With a shaking breath, Naya opens the comms.

Brick's voice is the one she hears first. "Oh, thank fuck, she's back. Bambi? Can you hear me? Sweetheart, I need you to keep the blast doors static. If they cycle, they might start a lockdown sequence, and that will get the droids moving.” It takes two tries to get the words past her tight throat. "I don't want to die." "I'm so sorry, dove," Captain Price croons. "We’re gonna get you out of there.” "I won't tell anyone, I promise," Naya babbles though gasps. "I just want to go home." "You're gonna be okay, Bambi," Ghosts voice is surprisingly gentle. “Cleverest breaker above and below the city, yeah? Gave Soap an’ Gaz a proper chase an’ knocked Mace on ‘is arse. Coupl’a droids don’t stand a chance.”

“I’m not - I don’t know how to fight,” she whimpers.

“Who said anythin’ about fightin’? Pretty girl like you don’ have t’ lift a finger. Laswell?”

“Working on it,” the woman mutters. “Bambi, I need you to try to give us cameras without initiating any other processes. That’ll help- oh. You are fast. Give me a few seconds to find the nearest droids and we can give you the serial numbers.”

“She’s so small,” Price notes, somewhere in the background. “Possible the droids won’t even register her as a target.”

“I think we’ve fucked up enough today that we don’t need to risk it,” is Brick’s bone dry reply. “Sparrow is going to beat all of our asses.”

“Well, we’re about to give Bambi control of thirty-five full combat units,” the Captain points out. “Might not be much left of us to kick.”

Laswell breaks in. “Ghost-”

“Got em,” Ghost answers. “Bambi, ‘ve got a bead on the nearest units. ‘ow do you want to do this?”

Naya takes a couple of deep breaths and tries to hype herself up. It’s just code work. There are other variables, but at the core of it all, it’s just code. Yes, many of the variables have potentially painful and fatal consequences… But in the end, she can either do the code or not. And if there’s one thing she can do, it’s code.

“H-how,” she clears her throat and blinks back tears. “How many bits, per unit? For the key, I mean.”

“Forty ninety-six.”

Oh, just the highest security rating in the world, she thinks to herself, a little hysterical. She nods to herself and talks through the urge to giggle with nerves. “Okay. That’s seven hundredths of a second per unit, with the key. That’s… not so bad. I can probably handle them in batches of 5. Can I have the first hardware address? Morse, please.”

It takes a second, but the information comes through. It only takes a moment for a spider to highlight the machine in the network. Very quickly, her bots are able to identify and tag seven other units on her map. She shoots a summary data packet back to Ghost.

“Are these all droids?”

“Yeah, that’s half of ‘em. Laswell, she was able to identify all of the A-27 units, do you have eyes on any of the E-243s?”

In the background, Price mutters, “Kate hasn’t even laid eyes on all of the 27s.”

Another data packet comes through, and Naya is able to tag seven more dots on her map. Fifteen battle androids, and two of them just down the hall and around the corner on either side.

Naya takes another hiccuping breath. “How fast can they move?”

“A-27s are closest to you, they’re about a meter per second. The 243s move at about 4 per second.”

“Okay,” she says, holding her breath through another hiccup. She has two of her bots run movement simulations, and decides she’ll focus on the closest two A-27s, then the closest four E-243s. She has the processing power to do it, between her own interface and the facility. But… “I’m going to need these six keys first, but I have to let the doors cycle. How long is the lockdown sequence?”

Bricks makes a concerned noise before answering, “Fifteen seconds before you can open the door.”

So, if she messes this up, she’ll be dead for about 11 seconds before they’d be able to retrieve her body. Wonderful. “Ghost, I need all of the codes at once, in two packets, with the keys in this order. And then the next set of keys as soon as you have them. There’s a half second delay, so I need them as soon as they’re generated.”

Laswell sounds genuinely concerned when she asks, “Is that going to give you enough time?”

Naya runs the numbers again, and realizes that she’s fallen into a very peculiar state of calm. “I should have one point three seconds plus a little wiggle room per key. That’s plenty, for the first part. And if the first part doesn’t work… I don’t really have to worry about the rest of it.”

Captain Price’s voice is stern as he gives commands. “Gaz, tell Nikto to power up the cutter, in case we need to get you through the door. Bambi’s going to override the droids.” He’s quiet a moment, then, “Ghost says she can do it, and from what I’m seeing up here, I’m inclined to believe him. But the resets she did mean the door is going to lock down before she can open it again.”

Ghost says, “Ready to send the next round of codes on your mark, Bambi.”

Naya squeezes her eyes shut and sets her bots to be ready to receive and engage the keys. She takes one long, deep breath. Another. Lets all the air out in a huff. “Mark.”

As soon as the packet comes through, her interface is a flurry of executables and intrusion alerts. Her bots are fast, but the activation of the keys isn’t instantaneous. Just as she was warned, as soon as the first set of keys starts running, all of the droids set themselves to Active:Seeking, Objective:Eliminate. But almost as fast, they’re all placed back into Standby:HoldPosition in a wave that flows through the entire wing.

"That's all of em," Ghost sighs, four seconds later. Something creaks, probably the chair he's sunk himself into. "Fuckin' 'ell, she got all of em. Don' think she even needed me to provide the third set of keys. If she don't run screamin', I want her runnin' the damn-" Naya's heart spikes as an alert pings her interface. Her voice squeaks when she calls, "Ghost? There's two units coming online. They’re not listening to me, I can't stop them. What do I do?" Before she can hear his response, the power to the hall cuts out. Naya holds in a scream as everything goes dark and then red with emergency lighting. Captain Price's voice is overtaken by static, and then she loses the tower completely. Somewhere, in the darkness, she can just barely hear the whine of attack units Riley and Merlin priming their weapons.

—

“Goddamn it,” Kate snarls. “It’s the 9s. They’re jamming the signal.”

Bricks jumps up from her chair. “Bambi’s in there without access to the system?”

Ghost makes a disagreeing noise. “They’re active because she’s not an authorized user. They’re jamming anything that isn’t local to the wing, I should be able to patch- Johnny!”

“We cuttin, LT?”

“Forward these packets to Bambi, nothing else.”

“Aye - fuck!”

—

A message request from SoapJM flashes on Naya’s screen just as she finds out that these new droids can move at thirteen meters per second. When she opens it, she gets an immediate key packet. Every bot she has gets set to receive, but the keys are expired, so she has to wait an agonizing three-quarters of a second before the next ones come through.

Just as a next packet arrives, a blue beam of light slices across the end of the hall, then a second from the opposite side. She barely has time to match the keys to the hardware addresses before two furry muzzles round the corner, guns glowing from their shoulders. Naya has only a moment to recognize the controversial K-9 battle units before they both take a step in her direction. And freeze.

It’s an harrowing second of silence, two, three. She doesn’t even breathe.

With a whir, mounted turrets power down and withdraw back behind artificial fur. The K-9s change their status to Standby:AcceptNewObjective with identical head tilts. The one tagged Riley wags its tail and trots forward, tongue lolling like the average bio-dog. Merlin approaches with a little more hesitant body language, though Naya can see the way it’s integrating her tags into the authorized user list in its software.

She flinches away from the door at the high pitched whine of a plasma cutter on metal. Hastily, she sends an ‘All Clear’ message back to Soap, just as the lights come back on.

Captain Price’s voice resolves with renewed connection to the control tower. “-both of your necks. What were you thinking?”

“Oh, suddenly we’re all about vetting assets?” Bricks laughs. “You recruited me with a bag over my head.”

“You were an establlished CIA asset,” Laswell grits out.

Bricks scoffs. “And Sparrow and Nikto?”

“We wasn’t wrong,” Ghost interjects. “Bad intel aside-”

“No intel!” Captain Price half-shouts.

“-she took the facility from me twice and disarmed 15 droids in less than 4 seconds without any formal training. She’s good.”

“None of that matters if she’s dead,” Laswell snaps.

Naya clears her throat. “I’m not dead.”

“Bambi!” Bricks sound downright cheerful. “Doors are almost done cycling, you’re almost out. Hold tight.”

Petting a hand over the soft fur of Riley’s head, Naya feels for the lumps of it’s internal machinery. Of course, she can’t find it - K-9s were built for stealth and surveillance, to blend in with any other dog. These ones are modified for combat, but they’re still adorable.

It’s almost hard to believe that they were going to shoot her, less than ten seconds ago.

The blast door’s status changes to ready, an almost cheerful ping in her interface. She barely gives it a thought before initiating another lockdown sequence, then queuing two more behind it.

Ghost notices. “Bambi?”

“I need a minute, please,” she answers, then cuts the camera feeds.

Merlin eventually comes and sits just out of reach, tail thumping once against the ground. Naya pulls up it’s configuration settings and examines the personality controls. Calm, but friendly, alert, reserved, breaks “arbitrary dog rules” at a rate of 6%. Riley: open and playful, eager to please, breaks rules 17% of the time. Both locked to 141 facility 4th floor, west wing training center.

Do Not Remove.

—

When the blast doors open, Naya is standning a few feet back. Riley and Merlin lay on either side of her feet, solidly in a sleep cycle. Her fingers dig into the opposite sleeves of her cardigan as Soap and Gaz come into view, along with a fully functional Mace, and a fully helmeted cyborg she can only assume is Nikto.

“Steamin’ Jesus, bon,” Soap says taking a step forward. “Ye gave us a wee fright!”

“If you get within three feet of me,” Bambi says, pausing for a deep breath. “I’ll shoot you.”

Three set of eyebrows shoot up. Nikto’s faceplate remains unchanged. Gaz looks at the others before answering, “We’re sorry we frightened you, love. We didn’t know Bricks hadn’t-”

Naya interrupts him. “I would like to leave now.”

“Well…” Soap says with a shrug. “We can take ye back t’ Laswell?”

“That’s fine. Riley, Merlin, up.”

When the dogs “wake” and stand, Mace says, “They can’t pass that door.”

She takes a step forward, flanked by the dogs. “I think you’ll find that they can.”

“Nae, Bambi,” Soap says gently. “They’re hard coded-”

Riley’s turret activates as soon as Soap takes a step toward her. Naya takes another deep breath, and repeats, “If you get within three feet of me, I will shoot you.”

“Well you certainly won’t be doing that with the dogs,” Gaz scoffs. “We won’t touch you, but you really should come with… us.”

The dogs cross the threshold of the door with her, and the plasma cannon in Merlin primes with a dangerous, high pitched sound. When the stunned soldiers don’t step back, the dog’s chest panel opens with a blue glow.

“Three feet,” Mace says, taking two big steps back, hands in the air near his head. “You got it.”

“Yes, sir,” Gaz says aloud, taking his own step backwards. “The doors are open and we have eyes on her. She’s got the 9s with her. Well sir, it seems she’s taken a liking to them.” He pauses. “Soap did tell her that, but apparently she doesn’t really care.”

Naya rolls her eyes and enables the cameras in the hall. “So you’re all allergic to just saying things outright?” The muted audio feed is a flurry of activity, but she just gestures down the hall. “After you.”

—

In the end, everyone ends up in a second floor conference room. Naya stands by the far wall, Riley and Merlin a deadly guard panting in front of her feet. The other eight sit and stand at the other end, fidgeting and clearly searching for a way to break the silence.

Bricks tries first, “Sweetheart-”

“Give me a reason not to overload the filtration systems,” Naya interrupts.

That makes everyone flinch. Laswell clears her throat. “What-”

“Because,” Naya nearly shouts, “I could shoot at least two of you, but then you really would kill me this time. But if I backflow and spark the air, that would kill all of you.”

“Kill ye, as well,” Soap points out.

“I thought I was going to die about five times in the last hour,” Naya says, much calmer than she feels. “Mention me dying again and I’ll fry your interface.”

“Ghost just aboot did tha’ already,” Soap mutters.

“Need a hacker for an op. Thought you was a professional,” Ghost finally admits after a moment of tense fidgeting. “Way you ate through the files I laid out, blew through a 256 like tissue paper. Couldn’t find you after… Figured you knew what you was doin’. And y’do.”

Naya’s eye twitches. “And you couldn’t send me an email? Set up an interview?”

“I did try,” Bricks points out. “But you said all the keywords that tend to get a person fast tracked to a very classified meeting.”

“A very classified meeting where you sell me, twice and then hunt me for sport?”

“Everything sounds bad when you say it like that,” the other woman chuckles.

The air circulator over the door falls silent. In the ensuing silence, Naya can hear the servos whir in Bricks’s arm.

“Clearly, we made mistakes,” Laswell admits. “So. What do you want?”

“I want to not have been sold and hunted for sport. Barring that, I would like a time machine. I’d love to know what you consider an equitable offer, Watcher One.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Mace hisses at Captain Price.

“Apparently we made a tactical error,” the man grumbles. “And then a series of compounding tactical errors.”

“You did not ask Nikolai,” Nikto says, matter of fact. It’s the first Naya’s heard his voice, human and heavily accented. “Or Sparrow. She will not be pleased, I think.”

“None of Nik’s contacts c’n do what Bambi c’n do,” Ghost counters.

“Bambi can kill every person in this room,” Naya says, voice flat, emphasized by the glow of two plasma cannons. “Bambi can turn this whole facility into a goddamn crater. Bambi can post videos of the human experimentation to the holonet.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Gaz says. “What human experimentation? No one’s experimenting on anybody.”

“I saw the videos!” Naya yells. “People in cages, people on operating tables, awake, screaming, crying. I saw people eating raw meat, off of leg bones, eating people!”

“Oh fuck,” Ghost says, voice wavering. His face is stricken when she looks at him. “Bambi, that weren’t for you to see, fuck, ‘ow deep did you fuckin’ go? I didn’t even-”

“That’s the job,” Bricks cuts in. “That’s why we needed a hacker, because we’re trying to stop that from happening, and we can’t get through their walls or exploit their vulnerabilities.”

“Oh, that’s just the “bad guys”?” Naya scoffs. “Okay. Why was Gaz covered in blood when I arrived?”

“Blood!” Soap yelps. “That was hydraulic fluid an’ oil! One of the bikes is actin’ up, and our mechanic isnae aroond!”

“It was in his teeth!”

“He’s bonnier than he is graceful!”

“Oh, fuck you, Tav!”

“You said you couldn’t promise to bring me back alive! Ghost called it a hunt!”

“Ah was jokin’!” Soap runs and hand over his mohawk. “We’re a right frightful lot, and sometimes we sneak aboot, but mostly people just cannae always hear us coming! Ye’d think we could catch one wee little civilian withoot incident!”

“You’re the one who was running through a secure facility,” Captain Price points out.

A plasma cannon discharges into the wall above his head. The whole room freezes for a beat before Naya hisses. “If you ever even think of implying-”

“Any information you find about Makarov and his dealings, you can make public,” Bricks interrupts. “Who, what, when, where, how. All of it can go into your archive.”

Laswell scowls. “Now hold on-”

Bricks talks over her. “We don’t have anything you want that you can’t just outright take, Bambi. That’s what you came here for. Information, and to get people out of cages.”

Nikto looks at Bricks and snorts before muttering something under his breath in Russian. Mace crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat and doing a much better job of keeping his thoughts off of his face than Soap and Gaz. The sergeants look horrified. Ghost looks about ready to throw up. Captain Price and Laswell share a sour, resigned look.

“You’ll have our backing,” Laswell sighs. “You’ll need something a bit more secure than the GaiaPet servers, or you’ll be tracked. But yes. You can disseminate the information.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Naya considers her options, arms around herself. The air circulator kicks back on.    Eventually, she says, “I want an advance. Thirty thousand credits, plus however much Price paid.”

“Done,” Bricks answers.

“And… I want seventy five credits an hour.”

“…Fine,” Laswell agrees.

“And I keep the dogs.”

Captain Price makes a disagreeing noise. “Those are government property.”

“Either I keep them, or I set them to self destruct and detonate every android on the fourth floor.”

Nikto says, “You are a bloodthirsty hind.”

“I’m really not,” Naya says. “But I’ve had a very long day. Do we have a deal?”

“Don’t think we have much of a choice,” Captain Price concedes.

Just then, the door to the conference room opens, and a brunette peeks her head in. Morgan Voss, “Sparrow,” as her ID tags her, nods at Laswell. “Just got in, didn’t know there was a meeting scheduled. What did I miss?” Her eyes drift up. “What the hell happened to the wall?”

[nocturni3]

Miguel O’Hara x male reader: Daddy appreciation

Top reader

(TW: incorrect Spanish I’m not a Spanish speaker sorry, praise kink, IVF reference, infertility issues, depression, infertility treatment, IVF struggles, fatherhood, anal sex, handjob, body worship, doggy style, becoming parents, celebrating, slight daddy kink, slight public teasing, slight car sex, edging, stomach bulge, breeding kink, submissive headspace)

Months passed since the two lovers became engaged and things couldn’t be better for them both. It was as though things were beginning to look up for both Miguel and M/n as they moved outside the city; away from the loud noises, most of the crime, the stresses of Miguel being spiderman.

After Tyler Stone vanished after his failed attempt at getting his CEO position back from Miguel, Alchemax was slowly turning into a big corporation that began to take the city's poor and lower classes protests seriously. A corporation that both M/n and Miguel could be proud to work for.

With the help of Miguel’s mother as his secretary much to both men’s surprise she was good at both being a threatening force and yet a silvered tongued negotiator. What’s more M/n’s department got more funding to extend a larger hand in downtown clinics and ERs providing them with the newest and safest tech during surgeries, and treating illnesses and diseases that had been neglected by Tyler Stone.

It allowed M/n to move all his major work as head of the medical engineering department to their home; it felt unreal as though this shouldn’t have been possible for Miguel to live happily in a loving relationship with a house, and a ring on both fingers. Spiderman was needed less and less as most of the villains that littered the city were falling back into the shadows with Alchemaxs change of CEO, the change needed for a better future for everyone.

Looking around his new and much larger office that Miguel shared with M/n; he sighs, taking off his tinted glasses as he shuts the hologram screen off; after signing off another approval for the start of a more powerful environmental power grid to be placed downtown. To help clean the pollution and gasses that permeated the air quality.

Rubbing his sore eyes Miguel sighed as he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to breathe in the smell of M/n cooking them both an early lunch before their doctor appointment. An appointment they both were excited but scared to go too. After all it would be their 5th appointment of seeing if Miguel’s constant supplements had helped any with his sperm count; one of many side effects of his DNA being spliced with a spider. An effect he hated, despised so much that Miguel was losing hope with each failed test, with each failed attempt at fertilizing the donor's eggs; eggs that were running low with each failed appointment.

Miguel had his fair share of breakdowns as this was their best chance to have a kid, as M/n was deemed infertile the second round of IVF. A fact that had broken the two men; a hard fact that had all the pressure placed on Miguel which M/n tried his best to help Miguel through, but there was only so much his love and support to ease the pain and hole forming in Miguel’s chest each time they got the news of yet another failure.

Even with technically advancing the way it has been compared to the early versions of IVF in the early and mid 2000’s to now with the child being grown in a womb like environment eliminating the risk of miscarriage by a large margin.

There was only so much technology can fix when it came to a genetic code being altered in the way Miguel’s has. Only so much injections of enhanced vitamins could do for a body that was genetically modified, only so much it could fix an already broken-

“Miguel hun, lunch is ready! And your medicine too love

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face even more as the knot in his stomachs made it harder for him to want to eat anything. Made the decision to just ignore this one appointment to just wallow in his own self pity; maybe then Miguel wouldn’t need to take anymore injections. Resting his arms on the glass surface of his office table Miguel felt the tired, mental exhausted tears start to purs into his eyes as he tried his best to control the painful knot in his chest at the thought of this appointment being another nail in his self worth.

M/n looked at the still closed door of Miguel’s and his office. Seeing no sign of Miguel coming out M/n whipped his flour covered hands looking at the plate of hot steaming beef and veggie empanadas he had just finished cooking .

A recipe Conchata had given him after the two revealed their engagement to Miguel’s family; who all accepted the fact it was either accept the two for their love of the other or they’d lose Miguel for good.

M/n remembered holding Miguel’s hand throughout the entire exchange. He still held his finances hand through this difficult time in their lives; wanting to have a child to call their own. M/n despised not being about to take all the weight off of Miguel; he wished he could be the one going through the bull of the stress and pressure of these appointments.

But he wasn’t…he was completely infertile; the Lilly hood of him having a kid even with IVF was zero. The least he could do for Miguel was make him as comfortable as he could for as long as the both of them wanted to keep trying.

After all it was ‘through sickness or health, til death’; the ring on his finger made it all a reality. They were starting the next chapter of their lives together. The wedding was all set up, the venue paid for, their suits tailored and ready. They bought a house! But even that wasn’t enough for what their hearts truly craved for a child; a kid they could both raise and watch grow up with two loving parents; far from the toxic lives the both of them had to endure.

They just had to wait and hope that this appointment was anything but good news for them. Placing the dirty kitchen towel on the counter M/n dusted what was left of flours and spices on his shirt. Before making his way to the closed black door of their modern homes office.

A light knock echoed throughout the house as m/n waited with baited breath for Miguel to answer him. Give him time to regain his composure before m/n enters.

Lyla looked over to Miguel who quickly wiped away the stray tears that escaped his normally composed face. She saw how much the two wanted a kid, even going as far as to pick out names ahead of time while planning their wedding. Even though she was sentient now she was still very limited on what she could do to help.

“Miguel”

“Hm”

Lyla forced a smile as she appeared next to Miguel’s shoulder, leaning over to look into his eyes getting his attention.

“M/n made your favorite!”

Lyla smile widen seeing Miguel’s frown turn into a small smile, as he scoffs his face turning a shade of red as he once again mumbled,

“Shock, ¿qué hice para merecer a alguien como él?”

Lyla disappeared and reappeared, informing Miguel, smiling as she pulled at a holo pad tilting her glasses down on her nose as she spoke in a joking assertive voice.

“Ah well let’s see, you and hot stuff over there met, we’re friends for four years and in that same year became boyfriends, then from then on you two dated, kissed, kissed, oh wow looky! Nope, more kissing, proposal and now you two are trying for a kid!”

Lyla froze her small bit hitting a sore subject as she tossed the holo pad over her shoulder listening to it canish in pixels as she turned to see Miguel’s face turn hopeless once more.

“Trying and failing-“

Lyla quickly appeared in front of Miguel shushing him.

“Listen here! And listen closely Miguel, you're not failing! You and M/n aren’t failing at anything, you’ll see Miguel things will start looking up for the both of you-“

A soft knock at the door was heard as M/n’s voice spoke up. His voice was soft, calming, warm as he spoke to Miguel.

“Hun are you okay? Is it okay if I come in?”

Clearing his throat Miguel waved Lyla away who huffed as she disappeared to another part of the house, continuing her installment of security measures.

“You don’t have to ask, this is your office too”

The door Jared opens revealing m/n whose clothes even after his attempt at dusting them off still had flour sticking to his shirt. Miguel smiled at M/n who made his way into their shared office, his eyes falling on the old day of the dead costume now turned spiderman suit that now mostly stayed locked for the time being behind a glass case.

The memories of Miguel saving him from a hostage and mugging, the moments the both of them spent in the other's arms comforting the other. loving each other with all their heart; Looking over to Miguel who began to fidget slightly as he started getting up only for M/n to make his way over to the stressed out man in front of him, placing his hands to Miguel’s tensed shoulders gently pushing him back into the comfortable office chair. Before leaning over the man who's had too much stress placed on his shoulders.

Leaning down M/n smiled his lips grazing Miguel’s, as he spoke his own hands running down Miguel’s muscular shoulders to his thighs massaging the even more tensed muscles. His hot breath landed against Miguel’s now parted lips as his focus turned from the stresses of their appointment to a need for a taste of M/n.

Miguel took in his fiancés appearance, his s/c skin that always seemed to glow anytime Miguel layed eyes on him, his H/l H/c hair that always managed to fall in the right places to frame his handsome features just right; enough to take Miguel’s breath away even after all these years Miguel would somehow still be flustered by the man in front of him.

“I know, but I figured you needed some time to yourself, didn’t want to interrupt your work mr. Sexy CEO”

M/n purred, closing the distance between their lips. Miguel sighed, feeling his entire body feel lighter as his hands reached up to take hold of M/n’s jaw gently rubbing it as they kissed.

The rhythm they kissed, the soft yet yearning for the others lips even after they had pulled away left the two nearly breathless as they stared at the other.

M/n smiled, leaning his face into Miguel’s hand, his own reaching for Miguel’s as they simply took in the atmosphere of this moment. The smell of food filling the air reminded the two of the meal waiting for them. Miguel sighed his face that had once been soft and relaxed after so long of stress now tensed at the approaching appointment. Another disappointment-

M/n kissed Miguel’s temple, feeling the pulse of the stressed out man in front of him who’s heart was beating rapidly.

“I know that face hun; this appointment has to be good news-“

“And what if it isn’t!”

Miguel shut his mouth at his outburst, his eyes burning once more that the thought of their doctors telling the couple more bad news or worse she’d tell them Miguel's sperm fertility was just not improving…that.

“Hun, it’s not hopeless, shock don’t say that anything but that, please.”

M/n’s voice creaked, he shook his head shoving his own feelings down, focusing on what he should say to Miguel who was losing hope.

“What else should I say, Cada visita es solo una pérdida de tiempo. I want to raise a kid with you so badly; I want to have a normal family with no strings attached…but every time we try Esta maldita genética mutante todavía lo arruina todo!”

M/n wiped away Miguel’s tears, ignoring his own that streamed down his face. They wanted to complete their family so badly, to raise their own family, to live a normal calm life. Seeing the man in front of him break down, his heart wide open and exposed, raw with grief and self hatred. He hated seeing Miguel so broken; going from a confident, strong headed, sarcastic hot shot to a broken mess in his arms M/n wanted to just take all the pain away.

“Miguel don’t say that”

“But it’s true, if I never tried to cure myself, never got my genetic code rewritten with a spider we wouldn’t-“

“I wouldn’t be alive”

“Huh-“

“Miguel, if none of this happened to you, if you never became spiderman…I would’ve died that night. Spiderman wouldn’t have saved so many lives, and even if you weren’t spiderman we both know you wouldn’t have just sat by and watched Alchemax keep hurting people. Things happen in ways that force us all to adapt, evolve in ways that shock even ourselves, be it in a positive or negative light. But don’t ever hate yourself ever, no matter what happens now to the future miguel I’m just happy to have you in my life, to have a kid with you and we will Miggy we just have to be patient a little bit longer”

Miguel leaned his head into the crook of m/n’s neck as he let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around m/n waist and back breathing in his scent. Mixed with expensive cologne and food had Miguel’s heart lighten; feeling truly at home in m/n’s arms, holding his soon to be husband.

“Estoy tan cansado de esperar”

“Oh hun I know, I know but we have to try and stay positive the best we can…which food can help com one handsome let’s eat and get you your injection before the doctor tears our heads off”

“Ugh, shock not another shot”

M/n stood up taking Miguel’s hand pulling him up from his chair pulling the muscular taller man against his own chest. The sounds of birds outside singing with the distant sounds of yard drones cutting the neighbors yards. It felt truly like home, staring down at M/n who caressed Miguel’s jaw luring him down for a peak.

“It’s just a small prick, besides hun I made your favorite food; managed to get your mom’s recipe”

Miguel peaked those intoxicating lips once more, his arms wrapping behind his lover's head. Untaloned Mighuel ran his fingers through the soft hair; gently tugging out knots as he gazed into the E/c eyes that stared back at him with such love it only luring him in even more; a siren song with no dangers.

“And how did you manage to do that? That woman keeps her recipes closer to her heart then that hun of hers”

Smirked, M/n flipped his head to the side, side eyeing Miguel.

“I have my ways, she’s not so secretive if you hang her dirty laundry out in front of her. Besides, it’s the least she could do after dragging our love through the mud. Now stop deflecting, let's eat before we go okay. And Miguel I love you just remember that no matter what I love you”

Leaning down Miguel pressed the twos for heads together, smiling allowing his teeth to show. His old confidence came back in full; feel much better than before.

~~~~~~

At that moment he was, but now that the couple sat in their room waiting for their reproductive endocrinologist Miguel became an anxiety riddled mess as he sat on top of the examination table trying to at the very least keep his talons in check as to not hurt the hand that was intertwined with his.

“Shh babe, just remember to breathe okay.”

Miguel tried to follow m/ns advice but even that wasn’t helping as Miguel squeezed his hand slightly as he kept his eyes moving around the room, reading the small posters featuring information on IVF and it’s almost beaconful message of;

‘We make families whole!’

Scoffing Miguel looked over to M/n who had his full attention on rubbing Miguel’s clenched hand, trying to sooth Miguel’s anxiety. Realizing he was hurting him Miguel eased his grip on his reassuring fiancé who leaned over in his chair placing a tame kiss upon Miguel’s quivering one.

His voice was like satin, soft and calming as he spoke with such confidence Miguel yearned to have such hope like M/n had.

“She’ll be here real soon hun, they are very busy today”

“I know but we’ve been waiting for an hour! Can they get this over with-“

“Hey now what did we talk about in the taxi hun?”

Miguel wanted to cop attitude but seeing the look M/n gave him Miguel sighed, taking a deep breath calming his already breaking heart at the news he knew they’d get once again. Breathing out Miguel pressed his head against M/n’s staring at their interwoven hands staring at the red diamond that sat set into the tungsten carbide band engraved with the couples most charashed phrase,

‘Mi única luz en la vida’

Words Miguel knew were far more truer now than ever before. His gaze soon fell to staring at m/n who smiled softly, even though he looked hopeful Miguel sensed he was just as much of a nervous wreck as he was.

“Try and stay hopeful-“

A small knock interrupted the couples thoughts as their doctor walked in, her holo pad along with her AI who processed the data came walking in. She was anything but a straight to the point, take not shot doctor. As she looked up her glasses caught the bright lights that had Miguel wearing his tinted sunglasses.

“Mr.O’Hara and Mr.L/N; I know you both what nothing more then to know the news-“

M/n smiled his voice loud and excited as he gave Miguel’s hand a slight squeeze as he spoke.

“Do we ever, it’s good news right doc?”

Miguel felt his fiancés hands shaking as they clasped over Miguel’s. Who now comforted M/n as his voice cracked some. Miguel clenched his teeth as tears began to gather.

“You both have been going through the highest levels of IVF, the most expensive treatments for infertility in men your age group and on top of that 5 separate appoints with no promising outcomes-“

‘Here it comes-‘

“Which is why I’m pleased to tell you both good news!”

Tears fell from Miguel’s eyes as he looked at the doctor, his and M/n’s hands gripping earthers tightly as the news left the doctors lips, her smile widening as she call for her AI to pull up the photos of a artificial womb with a small fetus floating within a time counting down twirls the date their child would be ‘born’.

“You both will be proud dads of a healthy baby girl! Congratulations!”

M/n yelled out pulling Miguel into a tight embrace, tears streaming down both soon to dads faces. Miguel began crying as well as he gripped the back of M/n’s shirt as he sobbed in pure relief of happiness. Almost disbelief as they stared at the photo given to the two of the child’s ‘ultrasound’. Standing up M/n wrapped his arm around Miguel’s waist as he asked the doctor questions Miguel didn’t bother to pay attention to as he held the photo in his hands, seeing their baby, their own daughter! Alive and healthy, a clear bill of health.

“When will she be fully developed I know this kind of new technology is recently upgraded and such with nutrition and growth potential en-“

“She’ll be born and ready for the both of you to take her home in around 3 months as long as she stays on the growth patterns she’s been showcasing. Rest assured mr.m/l, ohara we’re ensuring this little princess will be well taking cared of and safe”

Both parents sighed at the news, Miguel looked over to M/n who looked about ready to start crying himself at the news. The news they’ve been waiting for so long; was coming true, they’ll be parents with a baby girl running around. A strong, healthy baby girl.

“Now then I’ll just be right outside filling out your paperwork make sure to talk to the front office for your own paperwork to fill out, her name, legal parents that sort of thing, nothing to serious”

Miguel still could barely believe it even as he looked back down at the ultrasound seeing the small fetus that would soon grow into a baby; Their baby, migue leaned his body weight against M/n who smiled tears filling his own eyes as he held his fiancé.

“Thank you Dr.Lee, I-I don’t know how to even word just how much this means to us.”

Dr.lee smiled, placing a hand upon the couple's still interwoven hand.

“No need to thank me for doing my job, and once again congratulations Mr.l/n, Mr. ohara”

The door closed behind the doctor giving the new parents time to process the news of their daughter. M/n squeezed Miguel’s body closer to his as the two stood looking at the small ultrasound of their daughter. M/n smiled as Miguel's lips crashed against his own in a raw emotional moment of tears of both fathers, as overjoyed tears streamed down their faces: as all the stress and heartache finally vanished after months of wanting and waiting for this same news.

“W-we’re having a baby”

M/n smiled down at Miguel pulling his body flushed against his chest his hands gripping him by his waist his fingers soon running up Miguel’s white long sleeve shirt messaging the tension in his back out. Littering Miguel’s tear stain face with peaks with sweet nothings.

“ we’re having a little Gabriella, you did it hun; shock im so happy right now!”

Miguel’s eyes brightened kissing M/n back with a new found exuberance at the realization of this being real. That this was happening, that they were starting a family together. With a daughter they both always wanted Miguel’s hands wrapped around m/n’s neck basking in the joy the two felt,

“I guess this is the part I admit you were right?”

Laughing m/n held Miguel’s face in his hands leaning close enough for their noses to touch.

“Nah, I mean sure it’s nice to be proven right but now all I care about is that our daughter is safe and healthy and taking you out to celebrate…maybe invite the family?”

Miguel laughed, nudging his nose against m/ns shaking his head.

“You just wanna show off Gabriella don’t you”

“And why shouldn’t I? After all she’s our daughter, our strong, healthy, beautiful baby”

~~~~~

M/n couldn’t keep his hands to himself during dinner; and how could he? With Miguel sitting beside him as he spoke to Gabriel who seemed more distant and out of it, Miguel tried not to get sidetracked with the hand that slowly moved its way farther up his thigh. But the more he tried to ignore the hand that rubbed up and down his thigh getting closer to his slowly stirring cock. Trying to calm his body’s reaction Miguel tried asking Gabriel how his own fiancé was doing with her pregnancy.

“Oh she’s fine…when she’s not obsessing over spiderman. After all he’s the protector of the people right?-aye mamá! ¿Para qué era eso!”

Gabriel winced as Conchata hit the back of his head with his palm as she finished drinking her drink. Setting the drink down she turned to Gabe who seemed to know he messed up poorly as she began talking in her authoritative voice that made even Miguel tense up as. M/n tore his eyes away from the uncomfortable situation of watching an adult being ridiculed by his own mother.

“that was for disrespecting the man who managed to keep downtown safe while your stupid fiance and her useless rebel group got in spider man's way most of the time!El hecho de que esa rata sin hogar te haya abierto las piernas no significa que empieces a faltarle el respeto al hombre que está ayudando a tu hermano a sacar el crimen de las calles.”

Miguel had to force his face to stay as blank as he could as he took a bite from his meal, staring at the two members of his family arguing. While trying his best to not buckle against M/n's hand that now cupped his covered cock in his hand.

Messaging the area with a straight face side eyeing Miguel with a look that had Miguel’s stomachs knot up with lust; his cock throbbed against M/n’s hand earning Miguel a smile from M/n as his attention turn back to his mother and brother who were in an argument that was gaining some attention from the other people eating; clearing his throat M/n smiled at the two as he spoke a lovable tone calmed the two in laws down as he spoke.

“What we wanted to tell you both is that well…Miguel did we grab the photos?”

Miguel took a sip of his drink, nodding clearing his throat as he reached into his pocket grabbing the two ultrasound of the IVF womb with their soon to be daughter inside looking in her seventh month. Miguel’s hands shook not from nervousness even though he knew his mother and brother would take it as such but that was far from the reason he was quivering as the hand messaging his slowly hardening cock rubbed and cupped around him firmer.

“Mamá, Gabriel y M/N y yo estamos teniendo un bebé.”

Miguel’s smile widened, handing his mom and baby brother their own ultrasound pictures of his and M/ns baby girl.Gabriel practically yanked the ultrasound out of Miguel’s hand only for his scowl to turn into a look of pure adoring as he looked at his niece, his face beaming at the small image.

Conchata grabbed a hold of the small photo looking at the ultrasound . The stoic scowl that seemed to always be stuck on her face vanished as she looked down at the photo running his hand over the polished image of the baby curled up covering its face.

“Do you know the gender yet?”

Her voice softened as she stared over at the couple who looked at one another for permission. Miguel smiled at his mom,

“She’s a girl, a strong, healthy girl”

“What are you naming her! Did you come up with names yet?”

Gabe shouted as he leaned over the table at the couple.

“Yeah we settled on Gabriella for her. It just fits her don’t you think”

M/n's hand lightened its messaging of Miguel’s covered cock, Miguel’s one hand gripping the hand in place wanting it to stay, to keep its teasing as it stroked the straining fabric against his now hardened cock.

“Sure does! Now I know how to embarrass her haha Gabriel and Gabriella! Genius M/n!”

“Actually man it was Miguel who chose the name. He seemed dead set on the name and who am I to tell him no”

M/n smirked, kissing Miguel on his cheek; Gabriel’s chest clenched seeing the happy couple. Seeing his older brother aka spiderman in a loving relationship while his own as being torn apart because of Spiderman!

Looking away Gabriel grabbed his drink, chugging the rest of the alcohol, getting an elbow in his ribs by his mom who corrected his manners.

“Don’t drink like that”

Resisting the urge to yell at his mom who now favored his more successful CEO brother. Instead Gabe apologizes for his hasty celebration. Congratulating the couple before standing up excusing himself for leaving early.

“Do you want us to pay for a taxi for you Gabe!-“

“No, I'm good! Congrats again miggy!”

Miguel sighed, placing his head into his hands rubbing his temple looking towards his mom, who was now standing up grabbing her jacket, rolling her eyes at Gabriel’s ‘childish behavior’ stating she had to get going. Saying she had an appointment with a friend.

As both of the couple watched as the two rushed out leaving M/n and Miguel alone at the table. M/n’s other hand guiding Miguel’s hurt expression to face him kissing his fiancé who’s family rushed out as fast as they came. M/n knew the family had a toxic streak but to just ditch a celebration of a new member of the family coming soon…m/n knew it cut Migue deep.

Leaning forward M/n pressed his lips against Miguel’s, being glad the couple chose a booth seat as not many people bothered to look at the couple.

The hand that messaged Miguel’s cock gripped his balls harder, fondling them the best they could with; making Miguel pant, trying to keep his face and noises down as they were still in a public space surrounded by intel’s other people.

“We’ll celebrate in our own way after all You're getting pretty horny now aren’t you hot stuff?”

Miguel’s other hand gripped around M/n's wrist for support as his hand began palming his cocks head through his jeans. It took all his will power to not throw his head back from the pleasure and teasing he never knew he missed getting from his other half; who’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, his hot breath brushing against Miguel’s skin had his skin shiver with goosebumps all in anticipation…hinging on every word the man in front of him whispered.

“Wanna treat my baby’s daddy just right, gotta make him feel real appreciated”

Miguel let out a soft gasp moan as lips trailed down his jaw to his neck. Miguel couldn’t take much more, his cocks throbbing became painful, his legs were turning into jelly at the images runny through his dirty, horny mind.

Would his throat be fucked raw? On his back taking his lover's cock? Would he fuck him like an animal in heat, pull his hair, mark him. Miguel’s grip tightened around M/n's wrist while his free hands talons tore through the leather of the booths seats.

Feeling M/n smirk against his neck Miguel sighed leaning his head against m/n chest; embarrassed wasn’t the word he’d describe himself, there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came down to their lust for each other, PDA a sign for either of them to get home fast or there was no stopping them from indulging in their carnal desires for pleasure.

For many men Miguel’s size being the ‘bottom’ was embarrassing, to look too weak so fragile for any amount of touch to satisfy their needs. To Miguel it was pure bliss to let the walls down to let someone else take control to be in charge of his own pleasure. Someone like M/n who knew Miguel’s body inside and out, knew ways to make Miguel go limp at the near thought of getting fucked raw with carnal, primal lust and desire.

Feeling m/ns lips leave his neck Miguel clung to him jerking his hips slightly against the hot palm rubbing him through his pants. His focus was beginning to slip with each thrust of m/ns palm against the head of the aching cock. So much heat burning in his stomachs Miguel felt his control slipping even more as his fangs ached leaking bits of his own venom into his mouth mixing with his drool in ways that had his tongue buzzing with the bitter sweet taste.

“Por favor, te necesito tanto que duele el amor”

M/n's hand palming softened its unbearable teasing as he pulled Miguel’s head into his neck area as his voice shouted out to their waitress. Miguel’s large muscular body tenses at slight fear of being caught in the act had Miguel regain some sense through the cloud of heated lust.

“Excuse me, could you call up an auto taxi please? We both must have drank more than we thought.”

Miguel let out a strained moan at the sudden strong rubbing that started once more. His mind rendered into a fog of pleasure struggling to keep itself focused on the act of staying aware of the situation they were in. He could hardly even focus on what their waitress was saying.

“Oh of course sir I’ll go do that right away, was your automatic payment set up for when you leave?”

“Oh yeah it’s all set up, tell the cooks good job on the food yeah and here's a tip for the trouble.”

“Oh there’s no need but thank you so much sir, the taxi will be here soon!”

Miguel let out a groan of relief with the deparcher of the young waitress. Trying his best to play it off as him being ‘drunk’ that didn’t stop M/n from kissing down his jaw to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin near Miguel’s ear; sucking the skin leaving hickeys from his jaw down his neck. The grip Miguel’s talons had on the leather seat tightened even farther, tearing more of it in their wake of pleasure.

“joder a la mierda por favor necesito sentir tus manos a mi alrededor, I can’t take it anymore-“

“Mr.l/n your taxi is here!”

Miguel’s face tensed his eyes clenched shut, his lips swollen from his teeth biting down to keep the moans from pouring from them. But m/ns hand didn’t light up even as his sweetened voice. But Miguel knew the slight straining behind it as M/n's hand tugged Miguel’s shirt from his pants helping Miguel hide his rage ig boner as the two stood up.

M/n gathered most of their stuff, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s waist as he ‘helped’ Miguel walk outside to their taxi that waited for them, it became harder to walk from the anticipation of whatever was in store for him once they both got into the hover car.

Tossing their coats into the hover car M/n held the door open for miguel who only had one foot into the car before hands rubbing up his covered spine before lips kissed behind his ear, Miguel groaned when a hand gripped his straining cock firmly before letting Miguel go to get into the taxi.

The autopilot chimed on,

-“Please enter in destination requirements”-

M/n closed the doors hatch, without hesitation M/n swung his leg over Miguel’s legs straddling, his knees m/n’s face blocking much of Miguel’s view as he racked his hands all over Miguel’s muscular body.

Both adults eyes filled with lust for the other, Miguel’s body could help but shake as hands that weren’t his own started running up his thighs landing just shy of the raging cock that throbbed underneath the slowly staining fabric. Miguel barely had time to hit enter on the holo pad before the hands unbuttoned the jeans and took the pre-dripping cock out from the straining fabric.

No matter how hard Miguel tried he couldn’t hold back the unrestrained pornographic moan that escaped. He’s never felt this much lust in his life, it was almost suffocating as the hand started it unbearably slow pumping from head to base. It was as if with each stroke of the hand left Miguel more breathless than before,

Throwing his head back to the back stead’s headrest M/n's free hand took a handful of Miguel’s dark locks making him stare into e/c eyes. Miguel groaned, staring at the man he was marrying, having a kid with, and fell so deeply in love with it nearly hurt to feel him all around him.

Leaning forward M/n smirked, his voice heated, hot, and horny all for Miguel to make the man under him feel appreciated, worshiped, and valued. And that was exactly M/n planned to do, make Miguel’s walls come fully down to fuck him in ways that would make them both so exhausted the next morning they’d just stay in bed and bask in the afterglow of sex but the new found strength both parents had now for their daughter.

“¿Qué quiere papá que haga? What can I do to make him feel appreciated?”

Miguel’s mind was slipping, slipping into the pools of light headed lust. Pleasure building painfully slow in his guts, the weightless feeling of the hover taxi waiving past other hover cars only added to the feelings of his mind slipping into giving all power to the man over him.

All Miguel felt was appreciation from the man in front of him, sighing as lips trailed down his lips to his neck, the warmth wet trail left from his fiancés tongue left in its wake had Miguel craving for more of m/n.

“Ah, ¡joder! No sé”

-“please refrain from contaminating the back seat; if you proceed to do so you will be charged extra for any cleaning services that will be required”-

The automated voice sounded over the taxis inner speakers of the back seat. It sent an electric shock through Mighuels body as he made an attempt to fix himself, only for a hand to push his back against the plush seats of the Taxi. Soft swollen lips pushing against his own, M/n’s voice lustful, soft and jokingly tone all slipping through his voice as he spoke against Miguel’s slightly parted lips.

“You do know; you’ve known for months what you’ve wanted me to do to that body of yours; you just have to tell me how you want it daddy, this is all for you to feel appreciated”

M/n pulled Miguel by his shirt, closing the space between their lips in a heated kiss. Miguel moaned, letting his mind give in; opening the floodgates as Miguel’s hands ran their way up M/n hips grinding his hips up with each jerking motion the hand around his cock pumped. Pre leaking down the thick Vick onto the hand, lubing it up even more to pump faster.

The air around the lovers heated up, the smell of sex and sweat mixed together with their colones that only became stronger the more they sweated. Miguel’s mouth limply hang open his forehead resting against M/n’s chest watching his cock vanish and reappear as the hand twisted at the head making it leak even more pre, drool dripping from his mouth as he watched his cock get pumped with the hand; spit joint the pre in lubricating m/ns hand in jerking Miguel more efficiently.

“Remember Miggy we can’t make a mess”

Hooking a finger under Miguel’s chin M/n lifted his face to look at the existence of the state Miguel was in. What he saw had his own cock throb painfully at Miguel’s flushed face, his unfocused eyes, the drooling mouth that revealed his fangs that seemed like they were even losing control over their venom leaking out, Miguel’s messing hair clinging to his forehead. M/n smirked down at his blissed out minded fiancé who’s arms clung loosely on his hips.

“ w-want you inside, hmm ah”

Miguel moaned his head leaning against M/ns hand, his body was in a state of plearsureable numbness. The only thoughts going through his mind was the thought of M/n cock filling him up with is seed. In a primal part of his mindset miguel craved to be filled to the brim with M/ns kids.

“Want your cum…in me filling me”

“Oh? And why does daddy want my cum?hmm”

Twisting his hand harshly at the reddening tip of Miguel’s cock; m/n moaned watching Miguel’s body shake involuntarily with Miguel’s whines from the amount of pleasure.

Miguel couldn’t take anymore his cock,his stomachs, even his ass ached for his fiancés cock to fuck him raw and full with cum.

“I want more kids, want you t-o fill me with them ahh, carajo!”

Miguel stammered his request filled M/n with such primal desire to do just as his future husband asked. Fill him full of his cum, his kids, to get him pregnant; to give their baby girl Gabriella siblings right away.

It was a part of Miguel’s brain that had these instincts programmed into him from the desisted, it made Miguel feel nothing more than a needy animal but in a way it was part of Miguel that he couldn’t hate…not when it made sex feel so fucking good.

Yet Miguel wasn’t prepared for his pants to be yanked as far down as M/n could manage before he got sexually frustrated enough to the point he removed his hand from Miguel’s burning cock to O’Neal down in between Miguel’s legs yanking his stained jeans the rest of the way off.

Licking his lips as he stared at Miguel’s pre-covered cock to his twitching hole. Shoving his own fingers into his mouth not knowing just how deputed Miguel’s venom was;

“Don’t give me those sexy eyes, I’m not gonna risk getting paralyzed by that venom of yours again.”

Throwing his head back in frustration Miguel knew M/n was valid in his concerns last time they were lost in this kind of lust he was paralyzed for a good part of the day stuck with a raging boner.

Opening his eyes Miguel looked down at M/n who was sucking on his own fingers coating them in his spit, while his other hand grabbed ahold of Miguel’s thigh guilding it over his shoulder showing off the puckering ring of muscle that craved for him.

Feeling his face heating up to a point Miguel could only moan as fingers began their teasing taunts with each small push, a slight probe. Whines escaped Miguel’s lips as one of his hands gripped his own hair the other made its way to his beading pre cock. Only for the hand to get slapped away.

Shocked, Miguel looked down to M/n whose face was in between the two mounds of ass, his tongue pushing past the ring of muscle, loosening the inside enough for a finger to shove it’s way all the way to his knuckle.

“Amor a la mierda por favor déjame eyacular”

Miguel’s struggling voice whines his free hand reaching down to M/n hair gripping his fingers into the soft messy h/c. Pulling m/ns head closer with each brush made on his prostate. The burning pleasurable sort of pain each time a finger was added along with the tongue that still eases the ring of muscle open.

Stretching Miguel’s ass farther, the heights of Miguel’s nearly climax was at its peak, the knot that formed altightened, heightening his senses even higher than before as blood rushed to his ears the corners of his eyes started to go white with pleasure.

All stopped once the autopilot spoke once more the voice alerting them of their nearly destination in a few moments. Causing the head between Miguel’s shaking thighs to retreat, along with the tongue that Miguel had gotten so used to the warmth of inside him.

Letting out a desperate breath Miguel looked down at M/n. Whose face was just as flushed as Miguel’s as he stared back, his fingered scissoring Miguel’s still tight hole open; preparing him just the way he wanted.

All while he stroked a hand against Miguel’s neglected cock that leaked far more the more teasing M/n did.

“Look at yourself you sexy beast, being scissored and stretched with one hand while being given the best handjob with the other and still you want me. Shock I love it when you let me take care of you baby, so sexy”

Miguel’s hands clasped M/n head weakly hinting at his desperate want for their lips to mean once more. Chuckling M/n continued his assault of his fiancés ass and cock. Their lips barely brushed against the other when the hover taxi sounded;

-“destination reached! Scanning; cleaning required your holo card will be charades as such for a cleaning crew, enjoy your day”-

M/n smirked down to Miguel’s exposed body, exposed to him and him only; Miguel’s muscles that were flexed made the shirt he worse tight and cling to parts of his body that had M/n drooling himself while racking his eyes down the masterpiece of the body before him.

Miguel’s cocked twitching with the lack of attention went for his ass as it tried to pull his fingers deeper. Latching onto Miguel’s soft spot on his neck resulting in slightly taloned hands to grip his shoulder breaking the skin slightly: the pain was worth more of those sweet, addictive moans being pulled from those plump lips.

“Shock Miguel keep doing that and I might let you fuck me instead”

Miguel’s groan tugging on M/n’s suit wanting him to be in the same amount of undress he was right now. Miguel wanted him inside, fucking him raw and primal to worship his body like he knew M/n would.

“cariño, please get me into the house and you can do whatever you want with me!”

His head rolled back as M/ns fingers retreated out from his ass, with a wet sound as they pulled fully out leave his hole twitching for something to clench, to suck deep within itself.An invention M/n would soon take

“When you put it like that how can I say no”

Miguel let out a shaking breath as hands brushed up his chest all the way down to the jeans that were still down at his ankles.

“Shock I can’t stop looking at you; fucking beautiful”

Lips ghosted down Miguel’s thighs, the trail of kisses were near unbearably sweet; it had him breathless all while M/n pulled his Jeans up, his boxers covering most of Miguel’s hyper sensitive cock.

The fabric now covering him up had Miguel panting as he resisted the urge to pull the clothes off his hyper sensitive cock. The fabric brushing against his slightly exposed head had Miguel squeezing his legs together as much as he could as the two made their way into their house.

A house that already held so many memories and would hold more. A clean organized house, with modern furniture decorating the interior of the modern home. The only messy part could be spotted in the kitchen which was getting cleaned already by LYLAs drones.

Miguel’s scenes were in overdrive; the smells of both men perforated the air of the house with their colognes, and now the smell of sweat, and sex that clung to the two. The smells are becoming stronger in their bedroom. A room that houses all the smells that had Miguel's instincts go wide.

It all had Miguel’s head spinning as he turned to M/n who smirked as he threw their suits onto the floor seeing the darkening lust that poured into Miguel’s eyes just before he pulled his other half on top of him.

M/n gasped as their bodies hit the plush bed; Miguel’s face was redder than m/n had ever seen it, his hair was messy sprawling over his face and bed. His fangs catching the dimmed lights as miguel spoke his voice thick with a need to be fucked, to be filled with cum.

“Love you; want more of you”

“Yeah?”

“¡Sí, por el amor de la mierda, por favor, que me jodan!”

M/n practically ripped Miguel's clothes off leaving the far more stronger man naked and bare underneath his body. Miguel’s broad figure relaxed moaning with each light touch M/n left on his skin. Any amount of lips that licked up the sweat that ran down Miguel’s anticipating body.

M/n loved seeing Miguel so lost in the ecstasy of it all. Watching him shiver,buckle, beg underneath him seeing him finally let go of all the stress and pressure that the last few months placed on him. Now he gave in, allowing himself to feel everything all at once.

M/n took his time stripping his own close off his body, giving the desperate Miguel underneath him something to enjoy with each curse word that poured from Miguel’s lips with each piece of clothing thrown elsewhere in the room.

Miguel, sexually frustrated made a move to pull M/n down to him but it only resulted in him being flipped into his stomach. Gasping as hands gripped his hips, pulling them flushed with a straining pair of pants that covered a raging cock under eight rubbing ever so slightly against Miguel’s prepped plum ass.

“Such an impatient daddy; maybe I should punish you-“

“No!”

“I guess you're right, this day is all about you, about making you feel really loved. Is that what you want for me to shove my cock inside this needy hole?”

Miguel’s talons released from his fingers gripping the thick blanket underneath the two, the unstable fibers of the blanket resisted the tearing from Miguel’s claws. Miguel looked over his broad shoulders seeing M/n tossing his pants off the bed along with his boxers leaving them both fully naked, a fact that had Miguel pushing his ass back against the cock that now rubbed its pre leaking head between the two mounds.

Miguel arched his back as the head teased his waiting, ache hole. The heat radiating from m/n legs and cock that pressed flushed with Miguel’s body had him moaning tears of joy ran down his face with the burning pleasure rippled through his ass up to his head.

As m/n started to slowly push the head of his cock inside Miguel. Hearing M/n’s low moans against his lower back, groaning about Miguel’s tightness that clenched around the head.

“Shock, miggy your ass is pulling me in so well”

Miguel moaned loudly at the praise, taking pure bliss of feeling so fucking full of M/n’s cock. Each each raised Miguel’s moans higher and higher, the addictive burn of his ass adjusting around the cock that fox in oh so perfectly had Miguel’s rolling his hips. M/n's hands grip on Miguel’s hips tightening as he holds back to give Miguel some time to breath only for Migue to buck his ass back slamming the rest of the cock into him.

“Fuck miguel! Ah”

“sí se siente tan lleno querido, más quiero todo lo que tienes"

Miguel managed to get his arms under him, his talons gripping tighter on their blankets; the glow from the fibers resisting the tears had the dim room glowing faintly as the illuminated the two pleasure lost men.

Miguel threw his head back moaning loudly as M:n hips gave in fully to Miguel’s demands. An iron grip on Miguel’s hips would bruise the next morning from the intensity of m/ns thrusts had Miguel voice breaking mid moans. In no time m/ns cock found Miguel’s prostate ramming into the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

Electrifying pleasure after pleasure had Miguel screaming as his vision began to turn nearly white as the pleasure blinded him. His knees began to lock up the feeling of the nearly inhuman speed his fiancés thrusted into his tight ass had Miguel railing for more.

Thrusting his own hips back against m/ns the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in their room the smell of sex and sweat became nearly as intoxicating as the pleasure. The nails in his hips trailed separating one wrapping itself around Miguel’s dripping reddening cock pumping the cock in time with his thrusts stimulating Miguel’s nerves even more. Miguel’s mouth hangs open saliva escaping his mouth that is now mixed with his venom making for a sweet but bitter taste to be a constant in his mouth.

Before Miguel had time to realize the other hand trailing threw his hair it was already to last as M/n pulled Miguel’s head back, both arms wrapped around Miguel’s body pulling the pleasure lost man to his own chest allowing lips and tongue to trail down Miguel’s neck leaving hickeys and bite marks in their wake.

Miguel’s moans turned into whimpers as the increased intensity of m/n thrusts became harder and faster the knot in Miguel’s stomachs was reaching its breaking point; Miguel’s cock was leaking an amount M/n's hand was covered in the pre.

“Ah, look down Miggy, fuck my cock is filling you good hun”

Miguel did as he was told with slight resistance from the still tight grip M/n's hands had in his hair. What he saw had Miguel nearly lose his instinct riddled mind as a bus able bulge could be seen with each harsh unforgiving thrusts.

“Go on, fill it, fill just how much I’m filling you baby; rub that cock filled stomach of yours for me.”

Miguel threw his head back as another dead-on hit to his prostate was made, his head resting against M/n shoulder. His hands trailed up to his stomachs moaning at each thrust had the bulge protruding from Miguel’s stomachs to rub against his hands.

M/n was right he was filling Miguel so good, so much filled him Miguel never wanted this to end the feeling the cocks head gave him with each thrust had Miguel’s brain want to believe it wasn’t a cock but his and M/n’s child growing inside of him. A baby bump; that a child was growing inside of Miguel.

“Shock M/n more ¡Lléname, cum dentro de mí por favor! quieres darle a Gabriella un hermano quiere a tus hijos, amor”

“Ah fuck keep t-talking like that and I’ll loose it hun”

“So close to, ah shock, shock please so close! W-anna feel you cum inside me!”

The knot that’s been building in both of the two lovers grew to its breaking point. The pain melded with the pleasure of the pressure build up had Miguel gripping M/n's ass keeping him in place the best he could while his screams of pleasure filled the room ; ropes of cum splattering all over the bed sheets and m/ns still pumping hands.

Wet skin slapping movements filled the air of the couples room; as a tear stained Miguel gasped for any amount of air he could get as his body shook only for a moan to rip be ripped out of him as his hand felt M/ns hips sputtering in a final harder thrust up into Miguel’s tightening hole; the bully Miguel felt twitching harshly against his prostate as his inside were flooded with m/ns hot seed. Made Miguel buckle his own hips into the air as yet another unexpected second orgasam hit him.

Grabbing hold of M/n's hair Miguel sighed, feeling his lover's lips soothing him. Soft lips trailing up Miguel’s neck to his jaw. His hand turning Miguel’s fucked out expression towards him peppering kisses all over Miguel’s face that scrunched up in discomfort as 5the now softened cock slipped from his cum dripping hole.

Leaving Miguel whining yet moaning at the soft attention he was receiving from M/n whose other hand rubbed what was left of Miguel’s cum on the now dirty blanket. Before stroking Miguel’s aching thighs and hips.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?��

Miguel laughed, opening his eyes to stare at his worried fiancé who’s shoulder bore more damage compared to Miguel’s soon to be bruising hips.

“You're asking me? Last I checked I’m not bleeding anywhere”

“Yeah yeah smart ass, fuck I love you so much“

Interweaving his fingers through the h/c hair Miguel breathed in m/ns scent now mostly smelling of Miguel and sex Miguel relaxed basking in their afterglow.

“Yo también te amo, m/n”

Feeling m/n face pressed into Miguel’s neck Miguel relaxed as he continued to play with his lover's hair; feeling him speak against his neck a statement that had Miguel’s chest ache with just how much he loved his man holding him.

“And I love our daughter; I’ll protect both of you the best way I can I swear, I’ll keep you both safe no matter what”

“Now you’re stealing my lines”

A chuckle tickled Miguel’s sensitive neck as they both chuckled while caressing each other's bodies, messaging out the aching muscles.

“Sure am, we deserve a normal life don't you think, a nice long vacation”

“And just how long is this vacation lasting?-“

“The rest our lives; raising our beautiful baby”

The couple intertwined their hands M/n looking down at Miguel’s ring around his finger, the joy and light feeling of finally finding the family he’s spent all his life searching for was here. Had always been here in his arms for years and now another part of their family is one her way as well.

Pulling Miguel’s hand to his lips both Miguel and M/n kissed their ringed fingers, nudging ‘em their head together as they basked in the love they held for each other and their daughter.

Nothing would change that…ever.

Part 6 final

( damn this turned out very long and angsty and soft all at the same time! Hope y’all like it!)

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

The answer is "by the skin of their teeth," but this article is too polite to say it.

By Joshua Boscaini

COVID-19 is evolving and with it the need for new vaccines to protect people against serious illness and death.

Australia has detected its first cases of the highly transmissible XEC "recombinant" variant — a mix of two previous Omicron variants called KS 1.1 and KP 3.3.

Researchers have been working to ensure immunisations that provide an adequate level of protection against new COVID-19 variants are widely available to the community.

So if there are always new variants, how do scientists keep up with mutations and update the vaccines?

How are mRNA COVID-19 vaccines made? When reports of coronavirus first emerged, researchers quickly obtained a genomic sequence of SARS-CoV-2 — the virus that causes COVID-19.

This helped researchers work out the genetic make-up of the virus and how it causes disease in people, according to the National Human Genome Research Institute (NHGRI).

Once scientists analysed the genetic sequence, they identified the spike protein as the most effective target for the immune system and created a copy or code for it.

Unlike traditional vaccines that contain an inactivated or weakened version of the virus, mRNA COVID-19 vaccines contain a message or code that is delivered to someone's cells.

Doherty Institute professor of virology Damian Purcell said that spike protein code — or RNA message — was "packaged" into lipids to keep it protected for distribution in syringes.

Professor Purcell said once the mRNA vaccine — or message — was injected into a person's muscle, it instructed their cells to reproduce the spike protein.

"These are little bubbles of fat, four different lipids, that together encase the RNA [and] enable it to be protected as it is packaged into syringes and injected into your muscle," Professor Purcell said.

"Those lipids facilitate the uptake and delivery of the essential messenger RNA — the message to be coded within your own cells so your own cells start making the … spike protein."

The process triggers an immune response which creates spike protein antibodies.

The NHGRI said those antibodies remained in the body and recognised the virus if someone became infected, attacking the antigen before it reached healthy cells.

How are vaccines modified to keep up with new strains? Westmead Institute for Medical Research Centre for Virus Research director Tony Cunningham said new strains emerged when the SARS-CoV-2 spike protein changed, making the virus more transmissible.

Professor Cunningham said the mRNA vaccines allowed scientists to change the spike protein code and update the vaccine with the new message.

"If you actually think about RNA like DNA is coloured beads on a string — four coloured beads and they vary along the string — then it's in essence changing that sequence," he said.

"You can just simply change the middle bit of the RNA and that can be done very quickly.

"That spike protein is the one that actually allows the virus to attach to the cell and what we want to do is produce antibodies that stop viruses attaching to the cell."

Professor Purcell agreed, saying one of the advantages of mRNA vaccines was they could be changed and produced usually within a month.

"It's actually one of the really powerful aspects of the mRNA technology, is that many, many steps … can remain the same," he said.

Professor Cunningham said the key to responding quickly to new variants was maintaining good surveillance.

He said it was up to the World Health Organization to recommend what strains should be included in updated vaccines.

Professor Cunningham said the vaccines then needed to be approved by the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA) in Australia to make sure they were safe and effective, a process which could take about two months.

Why do vaccines need to be updated? COVID-19 vaccines need to be updated because they cannot protect against newer strains of the virus as effectively, according to Professor Cunningham.

He said that was because the immune system did not have the same antibodies to recognise and fight off the mutated virus.

"Variants can change so they're no longer completely protected against the antibodies that are circulating," Professor Cunningham said.

"That's why we need to keep changing our vaccines, and … particularly in aging people, we need to be immunised every six months to keep the antibodies up."

Professor Purcell said the first Omicron strain was an "escape" variant that required an updated vaccine.

"When the first Omicron came, it had many, many, many changes — more than we'd ever seen before and that was a very significant escape variant," he said.

"People vaccinated with the ancestral strain of vaccine were not protected from transmission with that COVID variant."

He said while people still had some immunity from the original vaccine, it was not enough.

"We do have some underpinning immunity that's capable of still preventing severe disease from those infections but it is still relevant enough to develop a new strain of vaccine," he said.

What vaccines have been approved for use in Australia? Australian Department of Health statistics showed 72.3 million doses of the COVID-19 vaccine had been administered as of October 9.

Pfizer's Omicron XBB. 1.5 and original vaccines were approved for use in children aged five to 11 years old, while Pfizer's original vaccine was also available for children aged six months to four years.

Pfizer's Omicron XBB. 1.5, Original/Omicron BA.4/5 and Moderna's Omicron XBB. 1.5 were available for people aged 12 years and older, according to Healthdirect.

The TGA said it was evaluating Pfizer and Moderna's JN.1 strain vaccine for use in Australia.

[tunastime]

For the spotify wraped... a 25??

so I swear I got this ask last year but I can't for the life of me find it anywhere, so maybe I never posted it? I'll link it if I can find it, but this song specifically falls into the fixing tango portion of my SEN playlist for docsuma! (EDIT: I FOUND IT)

so here's that, but from etho's pov instead of xisuma's! which is what the original fic. apparently obfuscated from my view. was in. regardless, enjoy! (738 words)

The first time Etho meets Tango is when he’s under his hands. Not physically, since Etho was no mechanical engineer and certainly had never claimed to be. He was good at smaller mechanics, because Bdubs, in their few years of knowing each other, because they’d both been hired at the same time here, luckily, and there was something so charming about him when he’d met him the first time on the Crescent, had taught him. But other than that, his entire background on the Relation was systems analysis and software programming, and not even in a language he particularly understood. Tango—the android, dormant, almost as if it were sleeping—was programmed in a language he understood, though it had been so heavily modified by the android itself, and Doc and the Admiral, apparently, that it was like learning a whole new one. He skims the code in front of him with his heart beating away in the base of his throat.

This is the second most terrifying moment of his life. Second only to the time the lab space he’d been using, snuggled up close to the outermost chamber of the sealed ship’s core to assist in making warp drive adjustments, had exploded on impact when the Relation crashed into its sister ship. That was also the first time he’d seen any of the people in this room with him, currently, besides the android dormant beside him, turned on its—his—side so Etho was able to access the cerebral port at the base of his neck. He can still feel the slightly cold impression of Admiral Void’s hands on his shoulders. 

He’s turned to leave Doc’s main lab space, now, standing with him at the base of the stairs, arms folded. The Chief Medical Officer—Cleo, he’s been told—had also left a few minutes prior, concern written deep into their expression. Now it’s just him, and the body to his immediate left. Tango. That was kind of a nice name for an android. Kind of rolled off the tongue. And clearly the Admiral, and Doc, and the CMO, had liked him a fair bit, because Etho had never seen the Admiral so firm in his convictions or statements. It was like he’d shifted to being a whole different, almost younger version of himself, fresh out of the academy. He wasn’t old by any means—Etho was almost certain he was older than him by at least a year, but the spark in his eye when he’d told him: I just need something, if anything changes, you ping me in the feed, Lieutenant, was something foreign to him. Even as he spoke to Doc in low, hushed whispers, his tone seemed to carry that spark. Etho rolls his shoulders. 

Tango has a variety of patches on his grey jumpsuit, too. Over his shoulder is the brightly colored HASA meatball, his name is embroidered in chunky, HASA font on the front with LT stitched in front. He had the dark red stripe of engineering down the side of his arm and the seam of the jumpsuit. They liked him enough to treat him like another member of the crew, which was different than Etho had ever encountered. The sparse connections he had ever had with bots were either low-sentience bots, like in the Relation’s or Crescent’s medical suite, the haulers he’d seen on the Prometheus, or any of the drones he’d come in contact with. He’d never been face to face with sentience and artificial intelligence like a self-writing android, or construct, or anything in between. It was interesting, and it was kind of nice. Tango looked human, aside from the slightly shiny, plasticine and silicon skin, now underlain with visible electric lines. He had bright blond hair and a soft face and the Admiral and Doc clearly referred to him as Tango and buddy and friend, so the admiration was clear.

It was that admiration that was scaring Etho, too. Because if he fucked this up he could call his job done for, easily. He breathes out a shaky sigh as he spreads out the crash logs between his display monitors. Doc comes to stand at his elbow after a moment, brow furrowed.

“Don’t be so stressed,” he says a touch playfully. “It’s only your rank on the line.”

Etho barks out a strained laugh. When he looks behind him, the Admiral is gone. He swallows.

He really, really hopes Doc is joking.

[sisusquid]

The Übersaw build breakdown, Part 1: (enjoy!)

Note: I'm more than happy to answer any and all questions about this build. Want me to breakdown a specific step or detail, please ask!

From top reference, to bottom complete, this build was a challenge from start to finish and required me to learn a ton of new skills, and reach out to a variety of people for help/advice/brainstorming! But when I decided I was finally going to make my dream cosplay of Medic, I knew this is the saw I wanted to make along with it.

Every piece was made from scratch, and includes sintra, pla 3d printing, resin printing, acrylic tubes, a straw, bondo, E6000, hex bolts, led ring light, arduino trinket, metal switch, aaa battery pack, misc. wiring, spray paint, acrylic paint, and a whole lot of sanding sanding sanding!

I always wanted to stay as true to the original design as possible, but knew adjustments would have to be made, moving a model from a game to real life. Some details I wanted to keep a true as possible, such as the base shape and size. Some aspects were modified deliberately to fit better with the overall aesthetic of the specific version of Medic I was creating; such as smoothing out the edges of the handle, rather than keeping them sharp like in the game. (Something that would make it more realistic overall, a goal I kept in mind through every piece of the costume.)

One such change was adding liquid to the Übersaw core and an led light that pulses red. Looking at the base design, and the color palette the original creators used, they intrinsically translated in my mind to "liquid" and "light" rather than just a flat color. Thinking about Medic and his designs, I figured an ominous, pulsing red would be perfect for when the Übersaw was fully charged. (Plus it would look really cool, so... that definitely influenced my decisions!)

I mixed up a concoction of distilled water, red and silver mica powder, and filled an acrylic tube with the mixture. There's actually two tubes, the smaller inside one helps reduce water weight on this already hefty prop.

Of course, these changes also meant I needed to learning how to code an arduino trinket (which ended up being a lot of fun!), and create a special holder at the base of the Übersaw to hold the ring light, trinket, switch, battery pack and wiring. Not to mention it had to be accessible so I could change the batteries out when needed. That's when it was time to ask for help from some talented friends!

Here's what the resulting holder ended up looking like! (Not pictured is the ring the light sits on) It was 3d modeled and printed in PLA by my friend with some imput by me, but he knows so much more about this stuff I was happy to let him take the lead! The design includes hex bolts to secure the light holder to the Übersaw like a clamp, but also allows it to be opened in half for easy access to the batteries/any electronics that are having issues.

The base of the whole saw is sintra (pvc board), in many layers. The layers were then blended with Bondo and SO MUCH SANDING. After the piece looked like a cohesive whole, rather than 8 layers of plastic board, it was base coated with spraypaint and detail painted with acrylics. (I say this as though it was a simple task, but the spraypaint fought me every step of the way, had to be constantly re-sanded, and some layers refused to dry at all and had to be varnished to remove the tackiness. It was a trial to be sure!)

But after all was said and done, it was finally time for detail painting: My favorite part of any project! (Continued in part 2)

[meadowindreams]

Yandere AU: Penny Polendina

Getting close?

Penny is new to this world (literally) and so she will use this as an excuse to say that she wants to experience normal things, going on small "hangouts", even trying to have small brushes like hugs, even hand holding, and hand jobs since she can use the excuse of her noting being able to have "social que", like when its appreciate to kiss your friend, or if where (on the cheeck, lips, or neck even on the dick when she grope him without him noticing, ) of course she plays the naive card and keep doing it, to the point Jaune would be so used to it considering how naive he himself it too. Whenever she needs him she just plays dumb and acts like this.

Android: since she was not designed to have access to the entire internet, keeping him away from friend, and would prevent him from receiving any "unsavoury" messages, even getting dirt on the girls that are getting a little too close to him.

Human: since she is no longer connected to the internet, she cant understand certain human action and ask him to be a guide, since she is human she can say she has forgotten, making them spend more time together, how the internet works, she would just use that as an excuse even though she knows how to use the Internet safely.

Protecting?

She will hack any all technology, security camera and certain AIs, removing certain safety features, resulting in more "accidents", letting those who got to close perish, she would fake certain record framing other for crime they didn't commit while keeping jaune away from all the legal trouble, she would even forge marriage documents so that they are married, she has taken a hobby in photography especially photoshopping. She would override Pietro code and implement new feature such as using drug, and overriding networks and security, only she needs to know anything about Jaune, no one else needs to know. Even faking medical record to keep Jaune in bed rest even thought he is as health as can be, even using fake identities letting her be the only person in his life.

Dating?

she tell Jaune that she wnats to experience romance and will ask him to help her understand certain emotions (like the obsessive love, or the intense desire to feel his love when his huge cock plow her newly created pussy and wants to feel what it is like to have her newly installed womb being flooded with his hot cum non-stop), she would study even small gesture and manipulation technique to use, even love bombing, and so many other things.

Android: she can easily modify herself to match his preferences, voice, hair even her curve making herself seem irresistible to him, possible making herself looking like pyrrha of course she would not since this would cause jim to still having lingering feelings for a death woman and she would see this as a waste.

Human: she would act all clumsy, pretending to adjust her new body, either faking injuries making him carry her, and stay home with her, making him isolated, but makes him think it's worth it helping her recover, or actually hurting herself, she can fake pain which is enough to convince him to believe her.

Marriage and family?

Human: She wants to have children, considering she is technically "owned" by the special forces, then it would be "recommended" as this would increase the number and power of the special Ops, she would study everything she can about child rearing, and want more as she would love to break the record of Mama Arc, since she can act like that its normal since again she never "grew up".

Android: Pietro can make as many children as she wants also since that she cant get pregnant and can get tried in a normal sense like when they have sex meaning they do continue any and all couple activities together.

Reaction?

Ironwood: He is somewhat indifferent to all of the drama, he would probably not even notice anything wrong, which she would use to her advantage, since as long as she can still keep up efficiency, he wouldn't care. However if he somehow finds out about her little "crush" he could use this to his advantage, pulling strong and resources, for Jaune to be only hers, in exchange she would do more work, but he know how far she can push it, since he knows that she can and will kill him, considering the length how far she is willing to go for him.

Aces and other Ops: The other would be happy for her, (mostly) since they used to ask her to all the much harder task, but since she has become more "aware", she has become a little more rebellious espically when they ask her to do things that would make her arrive late to meeting with Jaune or is generally time consuming.

Pietro: With him seeing Penny as his own daughter, he'll probably be a little worried for her safety as she is new to the world and (he thinks that) she is naive and can be easily manipulated (despite her manipulating a human into being her partner), of course she'll offer to let him add more "safety measure" like enhanced strength and more weapons, which she will use on "targets" mainly those who are getting in the way of Jaune's relationships. He has mix feeling towards Jaune, since he does really care about her and does make a effort but he also stabbed her in the chest with the intention of death, but he will stand by and let his daughter be happy.

Rejection?

Human: she is sad, she would start to have a mental break down since she seems list without Jaune, both literally and in a metaphorical sense since he has been there for her since she has been brought into this world and she cant think of a better world without Jaune in it, she would actually become SH to herself since she has never felt this type of emotion and has no idea how to deal with it. She would use this excuse to make him date her, and threaten to hurt herself if he ever leave but i doubt he would ever think about leaving since he is now guilty.

Android: she would stalk him through ever camera and cause certain accident for anyone who get close to him, or ruin any date he has with other girls, even making white noise that would remind him of her, manipulating the world to make him love her, she would change her bosy to become different women to get closer to him, it doesn't matter what form she is in, as lone as he love her, she doesn't care.

[eternal-echoes]

“Dr. Franck Mauvais-Jarvis added, "The combination of all genetic and hormonal causes of sex differences aforementioned culminates in two different biological systems in men and women that translate into differences in disease predisposition, manitestation, and response to treatment."(36)

What this means is that men and women are susceptible to disease in different ways. Women are more prone to autoimmune diseases while men are more susceptible to infectious diseases.(37) Men are more likely to suffer heart disease and are three times more likely to be diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder.(38) Sex differences exist in rates of heart disease, asthma, diabetes, Alzheimer's disease, pneumonia, and autism, to name only a few.(39)

Men and women also exhibit symptoms of disease in unique ways. Whereas men often experience chest pain during a heart attack, women experience pain between their shoulder blades, nausea, vomiting, and shortness of breath.(40) Because women often experience different symptoms when suffering a heart attack, they are more than twice as likely as men to be sent home from the emergency room without being diagnosed and, as a result, are more likely to die after being released.(41)

Males and females also respond to drugs differently, both in terms of efficacy and side effects.(42) Aspirin, for example, is more beneficial to women than men in preventing stroke, but more beneficial to men for preventing heart attacks.(43) In the words of Dr. Maria Ferretti, "When properly documented and studied, sex and gender differences are the gateway to precision medicine.”(44)

Often, the solution to a patient's ailment depends upon a doctor's understanding of sex-specific medicine.(45) Dr. Marek Glezerman, author of the book Gender Medicine, recalled an instance where another doctor reached out to him for assistance regarding a female patient who suffered repeated epileptic attacks. Her specialists made repetitive changes to her medication to alleviate her ailment, but without success. Dr. Glezerman pointed out to the doctor that the woman's seizures worsened in both frequency and intensity during the second phase of her menstrual cycle, when women experience a surge of progesterone. Progesterone is a natural inhibitor of antiepileptic medication, and therefore the solution was not to change her medication, but to increase the dosage during that window of her cycle. Her doctor implemented this recommendation, and the problem was solved.(46)

These medical considerations are even more important for individuals who identify as trans. If a woman identifies as male, her medical providers still have an ethical obligation to account for her biological sex as a woman when treating her. No amount of self-identification can override the reality of her genetic code. At times, this can make the difference between life and death. Take, for instance, the tragedy that was reported by The New England Journal of Medicine when a woman who identified as a man arrived at an emergency room, complaining of abdominal pains.(47) The individual's medical chart listed the patient's gender as male, and so doctors treated the individual accordingly. Unfortunately, the cause of the patient's discomfort was that she was in labor. Because she was not appropriately triaged and evaluated for pregnancy related problems, the child passed away.”

-Jason Evert, Male, Female, or Other: A Catholic Guide to Understanding Gender

—

Work cited:

36) Mauvais-Jarvis, "Sex and Gender: Modifiers of Health, Disease, and Medicine," 566.

37) Cf. Glezerman, Gender Medicine, 27.

38) Cf. R. Loomes et al., "What Is the Male-to-Female Ratio in Autism Spectrum Disorder? A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis," Journal of the American Academy of Child Adolescent Psychiatry, 56 (2017), 466-474.

39) Mauvais-Jarvis, "Sex and Gender: Modifiers of Health, Disease, and Medicine," 576.

40) Mauvais-Jarvis, "Sex and Gender: Modifiers of Health, Disease, and Medicine," 567.

41) Cf. Glezerman, Gender Medicine, 107; V. Caso et al., "Antiplatelet Treatment in Primary and Secondary Stroke Prevention in Women," European Journal of Internal Medicine 23 (2012), 580-585.

42) Cf. H. Whitley et al., "Sex-Based Differences in Drug Activity," American Family Physician 80:11 (2009), 1254-1258; Institute of Medicine, Committee on Understanding the Biology of Sex and Gender Differences, Exploring the Biological Contributions to Human Health: Does Sex Matter?, ed. Theresa M. Wizeman and Mary-Lou Pardue (Washington, D.C.: National Academies Press, 2001), Executive Summary, 1.

43) Cf. Glezerman, Gender Medicine, 102,

44)  M. Ferretti et al., "Account for Sex in Brain Research for Precision Medicine," Nature 569 (May 2019), 7754.

45) Mauvais-Jarvis, "Sex and Gender: Modifiers of Health, Disease, and Medicine."

46) Cf. Glezerman, Gender Medicine, 22.

47) Cf. D. Stroumsa et al., "The Power and Limits of Classification-A 32-Year-Old Man with Abdominal Pain," The New England Journal of Medicine 380 (May 16, 2019), 1885-1888. Blum, Sex on the Brain, xvii.

—

For more recommended resources on gender dysphoria, click here.

[hezele]

Bg3 Cyberpunk AU

6 people get hired by a mysterious but powerful group called the Absolutists to do a job. These 6 strangers are all down on their luck, desperate enough to take the job even if everything about it screams sketchy. The rewards they’re promised could be the key to turning their lives around.

The Team:

The Face: Wyll the rockerboy, protector and voice of the people. He can charm his way out of near anything. His one-man band is known for its uplifting energetic tunes and its messages that urge to stand up in the face of injustice. He does occasional merc gigs, some for people down on their luck, and some for a mysterious woman who stinks of the corps

The Runner: Gale has always been a talented netrunner from a young age. His ingenuity and grasp of coding are superb, beyond many peoples capabilities. He wound up in a relationship with the legendary Mystra, the woman who invented the current net system. Rumor has it there's been a falling out.

The Ninja/Techie: Astarion knows how to sneak around and take people out quietly. He also has the tech skills to take apart someones security system and modify his weapons for maximum efficiency. He used to work as a doll for many years but has recently quit, taking up this new gig.

The Driver/Killer: Lae'zel is a skilled no-nonsense fighter with the resources and teachings of her nomad clan to back her. Her clan is known to be ruthless but effective fighters. To say they are wary of outsiders is an understatement. But the clan needs money, and Lae'zel is willing to take a gig to pull some cash in.

The Medtech: Shadowheart might be ornery with questionable credentials but she’s a highly competent medic. She knows how to tend to wounds just as well as how to make them. She has a strange piece of tech whose function is unknown. She carries it with her everywhere but refuses to explain what it is.

The Muscle: Karlach is a solo skilled at a variety of melee fighting styles. She used to work as a hired corporate assassin but has since gone freelance. She has a prototype piece of cyberware tech installed thats extremely handy in a fight, but faulty and dangerous both for those around her, and herself.

[nohara-rin-dot-mp3]

Hiii :D For the character ask if it inspires you: Orochimaru

first impression: evil guy... very evil... i liked the snake vibes but i don't think i was particularly attached to them

impression now: if you tell a kid that they're going to be evil and then ask them to do evil science experiments for you and then tell them that they're evil for doing the evil science experiments. well i've got surprising news about what happens lmao. it's not that what happened isn't their fault per se it's just that perhaps their were. influencing factors. and the of course the universal naruto moral modifier of "everyone is kind of like that :/" but you can tell that orchimaru's soooo evil because of queer-coding. until they switch it to a comedy device. god i wish their androgyny was sincerely depicted.

favorite thing about that character: i really just like the fact that everyone kind of forgets the orochimaru was the main villain for like, half the series. it's chill. they're chilling. they didn't even like stop the war crimes or apologize they just start living in konoha again. the timeline around their original departure is so funny too it happens like on four different occasions depending on the flashback so i can only imagine that they just kept getting discovered and then. not leaving. because hiruzen didn't give a fuck. hilarious.

least favorite thing: i don't even know there's a lot of things that are objectively terrible about them but i find myself fond of all of them... i guess the fact that they talk with jiraiya sometimes. get a better rival. tsunade is right there.

favorite line/scene: all the body horror stuff. i love body horror. i love it when their skin melts and shit. that's cool.

favorite interaction that character has with another: their first fight with tsunade!!!!! literally everything about there interaction across that timespan is soooo good. them offering to revive dan n nawaki is obviously manipulative on some level but i also like to think that orochimaru is actually trying to give her them back. because they love her. and like, they're both missing-nin, right, even if tsunade was never officially put in a bingo book? and then she REJECTS him and KILLS HIS ARMS and it's just very good very yuri.

character that I wish that character would interact with more: i would have loved to see them interact with konan in a meaningful way... both of them are chasing immortality (orochimaru through actual, physical living forever and konan through carrying out the goals of the dead forever and ever in order to preserve them in memory like a pinned butterfly) and both of them are insane and i just think. that there could have been something there. like even if it was just a fight i would have loved to see it... i want to see konan's plan to take them out (i KNOW she has one it probably involves. ten million billion bombs. foolrpoof.)

character from another fandom that reminds me of that character: shoko jujutsu kaisen.... it's the medical malpractice and insane skewed morals based around making themselves immune to suffering. it's a good character archetype i like it a lot

headcanon about that character: they can't drink for SHIT idk if anything on the topic has ever been said but if it has i do not care i know in my heart. that they are a lightweight. most of the time they just don't drink because they don't really enjoy it anyways but when they go out with tsunade she always convinces them to take just a sip and then makes fun of them in the morning because they passed out after like. two beers.

song that reminds of that character: blue lips by regina spektor. smth smth death being human/fighting that + the passage of time. idk. mostly this is just vibes.

unpopular opinion about that character: i see a weird amount of sakumo/orochimaru and i just don't see the vision at all. like. what is compelling about their relationship. orochimaru is possibly one of the LEAST suicide guys ever but not in a way that contrasts meaningfully with sakumo's most suicide guy ever shtick i don't understand what the appeal is!!!!

favorite image:

idk what happens in boruto but i'm a big fan of orochimaru's milf era.

[koegama]

4. Are there any trades or hobbies whose practitioners are stereotyped as weird or extraordinary? (E.g. the “mad hatter” trope.) Why? How true is this perception?

For non hanasei species, inkers are the main weirdo profession. Inkers are those who "tattoo" Aether into people's bodies, which can modify, remove or add body parts and functions onto them. It's basically science-y magical bioengineering. The way it works is that Aether's volatile state can be pre-conditioned to do certain things, so inkers will create "ink bottles" of Aether mixed with other components to program a certain function.

That's only the first part, though, the created Aether ink then must be injected correctly to complete the correct conditioning and give the costumer their requested morph. They used to be called Aether tattooists back then, as many of the equipment is similar and the Aether injection looks like drawing a tattoo, rather than needle injections or other medical procedures. Inkers was a slang that became more popular because it separated them from normal tattooists.

Hanasei are a species very interested and enthusiastic about messing with Aether and body mods, so to them inkers are cool and normal. Other species are getting more comfortable with it (in varying degrees) but the trope of hubris inkers is very common in their media. For Hanasei though, the main stereotypes are for religious leaders, since they're a mainly atheist species who's own religions are dwindling or extinct. Their main beef is with zealots, but it can easily fall into religious intolerance or ignorance on their side, and some of them can be unreceptive to normal religious activities.

6. What is a common way to subtly insult someone in your world, without crossing into overt rudeness? Gifting an item with negative connotations? Addressing them more familiarly or formally than normal? Backhanded compliments?

Hanasei: Not giving context of tone or intention. The way they talk means that one set of gills is talking as usual, and another set gives context, meaning, or tone. Something like "I hate this" "[I am joking]". Not giving that context and forcing the person to figure out what you mean is a subtle way of saying you don't care if they understand you or not.

Luminae: politeness in general. Even in workspaces, casual talk is the way to go with anyone, including most bosses. Politeness is reserved for strangers and specific settings like political discussions in political halls, formal code protocols etc.

Tajira: tajira have a shit ton of social rules and contracts, and breaking any of them will be seen as an insult to the other parties' time and respect. Trying to top off someone's accomplishments or belittle it indirectly is one of the big ones though.

[littlenyao]

Perhaps one overlooked misconception regarding Ratchet is that there is a tendency to think of him being akin to a human medical doctor. After all, he's treating exactly one species: Cybertronian.

Well.

Technically that's true.

But what you have to think about is the sheer number of different frames Cybertronians have, even within their own species. How mechanically different all of these frames are. How on a regular basis, Ratchet is treating quite a number of planes, trains, and automobiles. The sheer amount of knowledge of how all of these different frame types function is so vast that describing him as equivalent to a human medical doctor isn't quite sufficient.

No, Ratchet is a veterinarian.

If you've ever hung out with veterinary students (as I have) you know that they are studying not just one but multiple species, including cats, dogs, pigs, sheep, cows, and horses (who are notorious for being just plain weird). In the class I was doing tech support for, we had a pediatrician who had apparently decided to run the gauntlet again to become a veterinarian. They claimed that veterinary school was much harder than medical school.

It's not that hard to imagine why.

So it shouldn't be all that surprising that it's hard to find a medic like Ratchet who can a) switch from from working on a sports car to a fighter jet without breaking a sweat, b) effectively run a department where the list for spare parts is longer than War and Peace, and c) make it look easy.

Not to mention if someone needs custom parts, Ratchet has to be a machinist to create them. Or if someone needs their source code modified, Ratchet has to be a software engineer to reprogram them. And he has to do all of these at an expert proficiency, all day, every day.

Even if he is a hyper advanced mechanical lifeform with tons of memory and millennia of experience, it's easy to see how even he would get burnt out having to keep track of all of this, especially during the war when he was also trying to keep his staff alive.

[sonicasura]

They shouldn’t have underestimated how much Megatron’s judgement was deteriorating.

Should have moved the base…

—————————————

While young Raf was recovering, one of the screen’s suddenly sounded an alarm as dozens upon dozens of ground bridges opened up across the continent. They only stayed open for a few seconds—but it was enough to sense dozens upon dozens of spark signals exiting the portals. The Autobots saw one open up in their own groundbridge bay, every cybertronian there tensed expecting a swarm of Vehicons.

A strange mobile medical berth rushed forward forcing Bulkhead to catch it and make sure the unfamiliar mech on it didn’t tip onto the floor. Following him was a strange spherical storage device leaking grey sealant. The groundbridge closed shortly after as Ratchet rushed over to the medical berth. It had obviously been shabbily modified to become mobile.

Optimus cautiously approached the storage capsule weapon still drawn in case it happened to be an explosive. Yet the Matrix was reacting wildly to what was contained within so an object of harm might be unlikely… What lay within were three ancient looking energon daggers. All three were wrapped in inner panel mesh to keep them from breaking. There was a legible if rushed message scratched into the inside in English.

‘Omega Key pieces 3/4. Check in Smokescreen. Don’t let Megatron get these ever.’

————————————

Knockout sped out of the groundbridge in his alt-mode, Breakdown situated on a medical berth turned trailer. Starscream flew out of the bridge as it flickered closed then elevated so he didn’t take a nosedive into the road. The former Decepticon took extreme care in making sure he didn’t run over any potholes or rough patches. Both for his partner’s sake and the sake of the injured organic shapeshifter in his backseat.

(“What are those mutated things?!”

“Terrorcons. Cybertronians brought back from the dead by Dark Energon. Don’t let their Vehicon frames fool you—they have tentacle like limbs in their mouths that can suck the Energon from any mech… All it take is one bite to turn another. You can only beat them by taking out their spinal struts.”

The shapeshifter had already keyed in codes to the groundbridge generator, sending multiple teams of uninfected Vehicons through. Knockout watched the currently a Predacon now welding to create two mobile medical berths… “What are you making?”

“Come on, you’re a medic. Surely a mobile medical berth isn’t the most mind boggling thing out there. I’ll send Smokescreen to the Autobots and set Breakdown on this so you can tow him away from here.”

“But in his condition—“

“He’s stable enough to handle a trip. I know you’ll be careful enough. Besides, you normal cybertronians are vulnerable to being turned.”)

Megatron had been experimenting…

—ROB’d Anon.

This honestly feels like a situation where Dart might get a new transformation if they weren't injured. I'm not surprised Megatron continues to do very stupid and dangerous things. Something that's gonna bite him back soon enough.