2009 chevy cobalt svc tire monitor

Cliff's Notes:
We have two vehicles. 2015 CX-5 with 78k (paid off) and 2019 CX-5 with 56k (4 years and $20k remaining).
We'd like to consolidate to one larger 6-7 seater but don't need it immediately.
We have an single, older family member (MIL) that is in need of a car, but if she were to go get a new one or decent used one from the usual suspects, she would likely have a 7 to 9% interest rates along with a loan of 5-6 years. We bought it used in the middle of the pandemic but it's been well maintained well and I just threw new tires on it a few days ago and she would benefit from a known car. It also has (for better or worse) a 3rd party extended warranty to 100k.
She offered to "buy" our car by finishing the loan out by making payments on our behalf. We don't have any trust issues and certainly understand the risks of her potentially defaulting if/when it may happen.
This is a win as it frees up expenses on our end. However I'm hesitant. I think she would be better off in a Mazda 3 or CX-3/30 (her current car is a rusty, marginally safe 2009 Chevy Cobalt with plenty of dashboard lights always on).
My other option was to simply sell both cars to an online broker like Carvana (basically a wash on the loan) and use the net proceeds (estimating at 12k) as a down payment toward a CPO or other reasonable option.
Are we crazy about the MIL option? Sanity check please.

Desperate Car Wife: A Journey in the Making (part.8)
While my posts might sound like I'm not a happy car wife, that is far from the truth... I really do enjoy all things cars, but I have my limits! In marriage you take the good with the bad. Sometimes I'm excited for my hubby and his new shiney parts, he adds to his Gracie, but there are other times when I'm like, "how much did 5 feet of 0 gauge wire cost again!!???", "you just bought a big battery.. why do you need another one???" His reasons, while laughable from my perspective, are necessary to the means of his OCD in car audio.
So who is Gracie??? Gracie is/was technically MY Grey '09 Tahoe. To take this back for a minute... over the past 26 years, my hubby has managed to take over every vehicle we've owned. Even to the likes of every single one had/has bass, a new deck, new mids/tweeters, Z type tires, sick a@@ rims, cherry bombs or flowmasters, LED lights, the whole works!!!.... I'm not trying to paint him in a bad light or anything of that nature. He just has to drive and tinker on anything and everything we own. It used to annoy me (especially in our 20s and most of our 30s), to the point, about 6 years ago I sold my car and refused to buy another for about a year and a half! I knew if I did, it wouldn't be "mine" for long..
At the time, I was a driver for a company that let me take the work van home; they allowed quick trips to the store (free advertising for them), so I didn't really need my own car... We had his 97 C/K 1500 Chevy to get around town in, so I was in no rush to buy. But then, right around the 2yr mark, I decided I was going to buy a car and kept telling my hub that he was NOT going to drive it or do anything to it!!! LOL Boy was I sooooo wrong.... I had originally decided to get a Dodge Charger, but then played it out in my head and was like "nope, nope, nope" this will only make him want my car, and I'd get stuck with the truck. I love and hate that truck as many of you know....
So I eventually settled for a beautiful grey 2009 Tahoe LS. I named her Gracie. I still had my work van, so for the first month after buying Gracie, I didn't drive her much. Well that, to my hubby meant, he would drive it!!! Lo and behold, my hubby took over Gracie and somehow she became HIS Tahoe..... in a matter of 2 months after buying her!!!!! and I was stuck with that godforsaken truck afterall!!!
He sure does love Gracie tho! He rather nobody, other than him, drive her too!! I'm the better, safer, cautious driver, yet he worries I'll hit a dagone pothole! Blahahahahahaha
He has slowly customized the body, restored the paint, lowered, sitting on some nice looking 22s, upgraded to disc brakes with bright green calipers, HID headlights, wrapped the front bow blue and the back bow gun metal black... She's puuuurrrrdy, I'll admit! He fully replaced the entire stereo system, a gazillion times over! Pulled the bench seat out to make room for his two 15" Sundowns mounted in a crazy big ported box... Added amps and crossovers galore, a bigger alternator, pro series batteries, lots of 0 gauge wires.... It's every car guys dream all in one :) He has so much love for Gracie, just like he did for that '72 Camaro years ago...
Fast forward 2 years.... I'm still complaining about losing Gracie to him. I really was mad! I tried to avoid the inevitable and it still happened! So I did what any other Desperate Car Wife would do... I had him go buy me a Tahoe! The only catch is I GET TO PICK IT OUT *OCD overload for him hahahaha* and it will be a boy name! HAHAHA jokes on him this time!!
To my amusement, he was totally down for it!!! I picked out a Black '11 LTZ with all the bells and whistles! His name is TEX.... He does drive Tex from time to time, and wishes his Gracie was an LTZ too now, but I think I finally met his match.... I can actually say this is MY TRUCK! FINALLY!!!!
To this day, he takes lots of pictures and shares them in his FB car groups... He's now a moderator for one of the groups and Gracie is the Star of the show!! He gets lots of looks while out driving and some have even pulled over to chat and check out Gracie...
Part. 9 coming soon

Have two Ct sounds exos on a taramps bass 3k, I had a Chevy cobalt ss and the amp was right around its peak volume, very very loud and I sold the car and got a 2009 bmw335i sedan and put the system in that car, set gain with an oscilloscope, standing outside you can hear things rattle but inside the car the bass is almost not even there, any ideas?

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So my car is a 2009 chevy cobalt with a 2.2l and I just had a recent timing chain changed and five sensor it's better than before.when I'm idling at a stop the car just wants to go And like 5 min in a drive when I'm not even pushing the gas the engine just shuts off

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Pan facilitated the swift transfer of goods, though she was disgusted by the treatment of the Atmo who were assigned such descriptors.
They were fearful. Wary. Even those that commonly worked alongside Mama and the others were unable to coax the massive insects away from the kits, but she couldn’t blame them. In their eyes, her people were nothing but bringers of danger for the young they protected with their bodies, the juveniles scarcely peeking from behind the wall of carapace and blade they hid behind.
The urge to rend the flesh of those that brought the kits to such a state of terror roiled under her skin, held in place by a thin veneer of placation supplanted by the knowledge that they would soon be under her care. Joseph’s care.
They would be safe again.
“The carts have been loaded,” Raine supplied when Pan’s gaze lingered on the caravan milling about, their progress further into the settlement impeded by watchful eyes of the pack. Several kept their paws on their weapons, even the most disinterested in appearance hooking a claw over the pommel of their sword or knife.
The only members of the pack that were not vigilantly observing the traders were either those currently occupied elsewhere, or had fled when Joseph had lost his temper, their experience with his rage too minimal to have built up any tolerance or baseline. They would reconvene shortly, but she did not expect them to warm up to the Human as quickly as those who had seen beyond his affable temperament before this.
For Pan, the flash-boil of his wrath had cooled her significantly. Her instinct was to prepare—supervise, rather than slaughter. Protect those of her bond’s pack, for another would deliver his judgment should it be required. Every part of her solemnly confirmed it through means unknown, but she held no urge to question it. It was ironclad within her, the ticking machinations of her soul resonating with its certainty.
Before, the blinding concoction of emotions demanded she escape to safety, yet also to act to ensure the threat was removed. The conflicting drives led to the accident that had left Joseph’s arm scarred in the shape of her claws. Now, it was a distinct order, her purpose defined and tailored.
It was as clear to her as the mercurial pulse she felt lining her form with defensive purpose, her everything stalwart like bricks in an iron bulwark.
Remove whoever trespasses against the sanctity of that which protects her pack. Beyond such is for another.
“Send them on their way,” she ordered, the Wraith bowing and moving to speak with the traders. Though she was not their ‘mistress’, they had taken to listening to her as well as her bond. There was a preference shown to defer to him for majority of matters, but in absence of his commands, her wish was their impetus.
Faye remained at her side, the subservient posture that the deep gold-furred female maintained hiding the lethality they possessed. Perhaps in another circumstance she may have felt fear, but having been present for much of their inclusion into the Grand Hunter’s command, she instead felt comforted by their presence. It was lesser than when Tel was within proximity, the Paw’s form feeling somehow incomplete without her, but it was something nonetheless.
She watched as the disgruntled group was escorted outwards, their spoils of trade in tow. Many of the pack who were well versed with their ranged weaponry covertly held them at the ready should any desire to provoke them, their positions hidden to the best of their abilities. Not all were as stealthy as others, but the noted presence of some suggested more, and that was enough to sow trepidation.
Jax hefted his large ‘war-axe’ on his shoulder to glare at them, his bulging muscles under the fur telling of his restraint as he accompanied them beyond the confines of the walls. None of the caravan elicited a violent response, the leader of the traders tempering their discomfort with a firm command and careful glower.
“Faye, see to it that they do not return with ideals of recompense for our vigilance. If they are content to leave as they are; return.”
The Wraith bowed and slipped into the shadows, the Paw following the path of the female for a moment with her ears before it became little more than ambience. Joseph was often far more aware of their movements, though even he could not track his ‘girls’ for very long before they adapted to whatever was giving them away. It was a small point of pride for Pan to be able to identify their paths at all after so much practice, but she held no time in which to revel in it now.
A large black-furred female approached, Sahari’s involvement so far being little more than ensuring that the distraught members of the pack remained away—lest their twitchy reactions incite more than a distasteful send-off—and introducing the few new servants to the barracks to await orientation. It was hardly the minor task that it seemed to be, but her demeanour suggested that she wished to be at the forefront.
“The Atmo grow restless with the crowd,” she reported, her grip tight on her spear. The crossbow she cared for was still attached to her armour in the den, left behind at the advisement of the Paw. Provoking conflict would only endanger the insects, so those of proper station were to appear as nonthreatening as they could while still displaying their willingness to react to untoward behaviour. The implication of the pack still being armed as such imparted an impression of barely contained structure.
They were unstable. Possibly violent. It would be best not to chance their fear of the treaty.
“Faye is seeing that the trader’s egress will be complete,” she replied stoically, considering if she had performed as her mate would wish of her. “Raine is supervising them while remaining within sight in the meantime. Jax will guard the gate with the other members of security who are not patrolling the walkway.”
“Myself?” Sahari asked, her eyes transfixed on the leaving Lilhuns.
“Come with me. We will attempt to placate the Atmo.”
“What of Violet? Is she not their Grand Huntress?”
Pan took a breath to consider. Her kit was supposedly a figure of leadership for the insectoid people, but she would also see the treatment that her kin were subjected to. The Paw wished not to expose her kit to such. She didn’t want Violet to associate it with the pack she had grown so fond of.
Sighing, she nodded. There existed little that the young Queen should be sheltered from besides harm. Joseph would likely agree, though he would be slower to embrace the decision. Regardless, the Atmo kit was the best chance they had to separate the injured from those they protect long enough to receive treatment.
A curious pack member—their name unknown to her since the increase in acceptance of Joseph’s offer—peered curiously at the fading forms of the caravan. Pan called out to them, their expression distorting to a reluctant scowl. Many of the new members still found much distaste to be had with the defect, but she was hardly of a mind to permit it. There were tasks to be completed.
“Travel to the den of the Grand Hunter to fetch the servant named Scarlet. She is of a deep red fur and dressed in the Grand Hunter’s personal servant attire. Request that Violet be escorted to me. You may knock upon the doors of the den to gain their notice.”
“Why is it you expect me to-”
Pan stepped on their ankle, pressing her meagre weight to buckle the stance of the Lilhun. A paw gripped their upper-wear, tugging them to their knees so that she stood level with their kneeling form. A trick Joseph employed in sparring since the males of the settlement typically exceeded his height. It lacked the same domineering effect that her bond was capable of, but her internalization of all he had taught her made the motion second nature.
“There are injured that require her presence. Do not impede their treatment,” she commanded, her gaze piercing and cool, the slot of her bracer aligned with their throat.
Be it because of the swift execution of the submission, or the steeled tone she took, they nodded, a fear in their eyes that she wished not to impart. Releasing them, she stepped back, Sahari glaring at the Lilhun until they obeyed.
Pan’s posture deflated slightly. Joseph would be disappointed that she resorted to threats of violence to earn the acquiescence of another whom should be kin, but there was little time otherwise. Many of the wounds the Atmo sustained had partially healed, but several were fresh. It was only due to her mate’s warnings that the caravan limited their treatment of the insects to stern commands while within view of the pack, but she blanched thinking of what might have befallen them before.
“Shall we attempt to tend to them?” Sahari asked, her tone soft and considerate. Pan nodded, tearing her gaze away from the now empty gate, Jax’s axe peering from behind the wall to tell of the male watching the departing caravan dutifully.
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She had removed her bracers, her retracted claws leaving no danger to the Atmo as she attempted to apply healroot to the oozing wound. It flinched, retreating with the group as they moved away, their attentions focused solely on her kneeling form. They seemed fearfully expectant, as if an order would come in which they could perform to stave off the threat of harm that they assumed present. Even her affirmations of their intentions did nothing to assure them, a similar ploy to draw compliance likely used in the past.
Her heart mourned for them, Mama having been much of her solace since being saved by Joseph. The insect was a fond part of the pack for most everyone. Pan could only try her best to seem harmless, her gentle cooing and slow approach failing much the same. All she wished was to tend to those that were kin to the one whom offered her comfort when her own emotions waged war with her expectations, yet they thought her of peril, so they maintained their protective shield around the kits.
“Huntress Pan,” Faye and Raine spoke in unison, their presence previously unknown due to the Paw’s lack of awareness. She flicked an ear in their direction, unconcerned in the face of her task as Raine assumed the role of speaking for the pair. “The caravan has left. We suspect they seek to trade with High Hunter Loptr or Grand Hunter Trill.”
“Thank you,” she replied with a faltering tone, her own disappointment with the attempts to tend to the Atmo spilling into her words. The Wraiths seemed apologetic, yet did not speak. Pan offered a small smile to reassure them that they had performed their tasks well.
Clicking originated behind her, Mama having arrived first. Pan wasn’t sure if Violet, Cobalt, and Rose were coming, but she doubted Scarlet would deny a request unless Joseph or Tel said something to supersede her.
The ‘Hatcher’ Atmo immediately approached the group, her gestures urgent and percussive vocalizations crisp. Whatever was said, the cluster of insects failed to part from the young, standing between the Lilhuns and the assumed target. One of them responded, though remained where they were and flinched when Pan stood.
It watched her as she stood next to Mama, the blue Atmo looking to her before seemingly using her to illustrate a point. The other insect shied away, unwilling to part with the kits.
Mama mimed a request for healroot from Sahari, the black-furred female having given up her attempts to apply it and deferring to Pan due to the Paw’s diminutive stature making her appear less of a threat. The Atmo need not know that she was likely the most dangerous to them due to her countless suns sparring with Violet.
A few sharp clicks placated the cluster long enough for Mama to place the flora within her mandibles, applying the results to the still-open wounds. She repeated the process for each of the adults, the insects seeming to merely tolerate the aid while Lilhuns remained, denying treatment of lesser wounds despite Mama’s insistence.
Pan waved the pack to take up guard further away, Sahari shooing the more curious members who still seemed to not wish to adhere to the whims of a defective. The white-furred female ignored them. They would grow used to her presence or suffer at the paws of the pack.
None would endure constant remarks about her, if only because they had long since grown tired of voicing much the same and have since accepted that their reservations meant little to anyone within ear-shot. Some have already learned such lessons, the odd new addition to the pack nursing bruises or scratches from those who grew irritated being approached with the complaints. It was an unorthodox method to force assent, but it was self-perpetuating and—more importantly—required no action from the leadership that might sully relations.
So far, all who had been informed of Pan’s station requiring acknowledgement eventually conceded, preferring to simply deal with it rather than be tasked with mundane work or physically told of how little others wished to hear about it. It had not escalated to the point of injury—she doubted anyone would react that way—but it was not uncommon for new members to be seen trying to work out an ache in their arm or stomach due to unsolicited whining.
An excited chitter halted as Violet drew near, her advance slowing. Pan could tell her kit was worried for the new Atmo, her blades compacting to her torso in concern. Scarlet’s eyes narrowed dangerously for but a fraction when they rested upon the wounded insects, the Wraith quickly reinstating the placid look of unflappability she typically donned, her pace matching behind the young Queen.
Mama clicked her greetings, and likely a brief summary of events, Violet nodding her understanding. With expedience that rarely existed beyond tackling those she enjoyed the company of for an embrace, Pan’s kit scratched onto her tablet, presenting it for the adoptive blood-mother after gesturing to move alongside the building out of view.
[Please get father.]
The Paw opened her mouth to ask why, the inhale filling her with disgust, anxiety, steeled rage, and sorrow. Her expression fell as she shrunk under the weight of the bond, a part of her celebrating the connection while the rest sorted what she was receiving. “He is near.”
Violet wiped her tablet clear and prepared a message for him, the English text as indecipherable as always. Harrow had become rather proficient in utilizing it, but Pan struggled with memorizing the way characters interacted, despite her attempts. It was much simpler to use a script that rarely lifted the pen.
True to her senses, Joseph joined the group, the few stragglers of the pack either leaving due to his scent or trusting the male to handle the situation. For a flicker of a moment, when her bond nodded his thanks to those forming a wide perimeter around the Atmo beyond their perception, she felt a deep ease.
Control. Things would move as willed, merely because it was asked.
Her very core swooned for him, her soul satisfied for the instant the sensation was exposed.
“How’s the Atmo?” he asked tersely, his voice still carrying the hint of the Lilhun growl that his constant practice had drilled into him. The firmness sent a shiver down her tail, the bond assuring her that he was comforted by her mere presence despite the tone he used.
“They allowed Mama to see to their more urgent wounds, but they refuse to part so that we may do a more thorough examination. I fear they see us as but more abusers,” she admitted, her words wilting. He returned a pained scowl.
“Violet?”
Their kit approached, displaying her message in two scripts, the latter added once it was clear Pan would be within range to be a part of the conversation. [Please meet with them. They will trust you.]
“And not you?” he questioned honestly. Pan frowned, unsure what to make of the assertion.
The Queen wiped her tablet clear. [They worry I am being threatened to compliance.]
The Paw felt wounded, her chest pained. A glance to her bond proved that he felt hurt by the assertion, but understood why it was thought of them. He cycled a breath, his aimless gaze bouncing amongst nothing.
“Sure,” Joseph agreed after a moment. “But, you two are coming with me.”
“They will be fearful of me,” she protested quietly, though she didn’t fight the paw that encapsulated her own.
“We’re her parents.”
She couldn’t respond to his statement, her body melting as the words tickled the longing she held for so many years. A small smile was returned instead of further disagreement, her nodding speaking before she could. “She is our kit. Let’s introduce ourselves properly.”
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It went as well as it could have, the Atmo listening to Violet once Joseph had made an appearance. Minus the skeptical look they were giving him, Rose and Cobalt taking up an almost ‘royal guard’ position on either side of the three of them seemed to have placated the initial fear. The insects were still wary of Pan, which led to a scene he wasn’t expecting in the slightest.
Though they were much more placid to his own advances, Pan approaching after a delay to coax one of the children out was met with a raised blade, one of the Atmo moving to attack her to defend them. He wasn’t overly worried—untrained Atmo had more in common with someone trying to use a sledgehammer that was too heavy for them, slow and cumbersome—Violet, however, was apparently immensely displeased at the attempt to harm her new mother.
With a crack that sounded more like a pair of gunshots than the clack of blades it was, the Queen used the rising of her jab to halt the descent, and a lightning straight to knock them off course, both happening so fast that Pan was too surprised to react.
In a startlingly rapid appearance, Rose and Cobalt placed themselves between the white-furred female and the stunned insects, Violet snapping clicks in a display of aggression that Joseph didn’t think was possible. The Queen was absolutely furious, the adult Atmo cowering in the face of her ire more than they did when they were in the cage. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Violet’s status or if the proficiency of the strikes, but they were shrinking enough that, if he didn’t know better, he would say that the purple Atmo was twice their size, rather than half.
“Violet,” he said softly, placing a hand to her spherical shoulder, “They’re scared. They’ve been hurt by people who look a lot like Pan.”
The young Atmo stomped her legs, the force behind each of the six impacts kicking up dirt.
“I know you’re mad they tried to hurt her,” he reassured, lightly pulling her into his chest. He tried to keep a parental warning in his tone, but he was too damn proud of her for it to stick. She had identified a threat to her loved one, then acted to defuse it. Even when the opportunity to attack further was easily there, she opted to berate the other person. Though he couldn’t understand them, the essence of her body language leaned more towards the fuming chastisement he himself tended to take when people took things too far, but not far enough to warrant retaliation.
For some reason, seeing her exercise that level of restraint in the face of an action that—if Pan wasn’t as spry as she was—could have resulted in serious harm filled him with pride on par with when she initially began communicating with everyone using her tablets. Taking a breath, he failed to wear a stern face, resigning to kiss her head and stroking her back. He really was too damn proud to be scolding her.
“We need to keep in mind that they’re scared,” he reminded her gently, his daughter falling quiet under his touch. “Once they’ve calmed down, we give them the chance to apologize. It’s not the mistakes that make a person; it’s what they do about them after.”
A wayward glance to his white-furred girlfriend revealed that she was watching him, her eyes glimmering with love and pride much the same as his own. A secondary look had him blinking, most everyone in the vicinity was watching him, people who were keeping those less familiar with Atmo at bay coming to inspect the loud interaction having gathered. Some were wide-eyed, some seemed content, some smugly smiled while feigning disinterest.
His surprised curiosity even caught sight of Harrow, the orange-furred female practically attached at the hip to Jax, the two having met and deciding to see how things were going. She was still dishevelled from her earlier reaction to the document they were reading, but the mated pair were gazing at him with a firm pride that he wasn’t sure the origin of. Harrow herself seemed entranced, her tail entrapping Jax’s tightly as her wet eyes focused covetously, the black-furred male resting his paw on her back.
A replay of the events in his head seemed innocuous enough, but something itched at him. Wait...
“Well spoken, my male,” a sultry voice declared, the touch of Tel’s lips to his neck sending an unexpected shock down his spine. She lowered her volume to whisper into his ear. “I thought your voice was gaining an... attractive edge. I suppose this is why.”
Within the light haze she tended to put over his thoughts, his mind caught the discrepancy.
He had spoke Lilhun. Everyone understood him.
His secret out, he felt the heat burn his cheeks. At least it wasn’t whining that she heard. It sucked that everyone would know about the fact he no longer needed a translator for most things, but he supposed it was better that way.
He cleared his throat, the attempt to seem nonchalant falling flat as he tried to ignore Tel and switched back to English. “Anyway. Let’s give them a chance to ease into things. If we’re gentle, they’ll be more receptive to us taking a look at the kids.”
Violet nodded, though she still seemed displeased at the events in general. Despite that, her blades relaxed along with her posture as she approached the group again.
With a bow that seemed to take the entire group of Atmo by surprise, her soft clicks resonated outwards. It didn’t take an expert to see that Violet apologizing to them for her outburst was unexpected. Both because she was a Queen, and because the adaptive translators that surely sync’d to Lilhun speech would have heard him tell her that they were the ones expected to apologize.
With an exchange of looks, the adults lowered themselves to the ground and made a point of bowing lower than Violet. Once the group had reciprocated their own quiet clicks of apology, the Atmo who had moved to strike Pan repeated it to the white-furred female. It brought a smile to her face, the Paw accepting it and moving to regroup with Joseph now that the pack was given permission to check on the Atmo.
“Our kit takes after her blood-father,” Pan commented quietly, her tail wrapping around his wrist as she folded her paws over her lap, peacefully watching over Sahari and those of Mi’low’s pack tending to what injuries they could discern.
“It’s quite interesting to see her castigate her pack,” Tel added, draping herself over Pan while her tail mimicked the white-furred female’s. Her chin rested between the fluffy ears, her arms falling over the shoulders of her smaller counterpart to rest at the stomach.
“If she stops at keeping people in line, I’ll be happy,” Joseph sighed out, relieved that Violet hadn’t picked up his penchant for getting slightly more physical than might be required at times. If it was another circumstance, he might have moved to disable the threat entirely. Not versus the Atmo—they didn’t deserve a broken limb for being terrified, and they were hardly a threat at the moment—but a Lilhun would probably be using a sling by the end of the day. It was hard to repeat the attempt if their shoulder was dislocated.
Tel gave him a toothy grin to match the teasing side-eye. “With you as her template?”
He rolled his eyes, choosing to remain silent rather than dig himself a hole he couldn’t climb out of. Pan giggled, raising a paw to rest over the one Tel had dangling over her.
“She has learned the value of protecting her loved ones.”
“And the necessity of the force to perform such,” the grey-furred female countered to her white headrest. Pan nodded slightly, careful not to disturb Tel too much while still agreeing.
“A gentle paw.”
“And a lethal claw.”
He eyed the two curiously, their synchrony striking him odd. He was about to voice his observation, but Sahari called out to them, a short debriefing assuring them that the children were unharmed, but several of the adult Atmo would be better off resting. Besides what seemed to be exhaustion, two of them were having difficulty moving a leg.
A flicker of frigid fire within him licked against his core, his stomach tensing as his cinders of rage reminded him why they were in such a state.
“Tel,”
“Yes, my Sheath?” the female returned, her tone like cold steel.
“You mentioned a stealth recon unit?”
“Target?”
He stared beyond the buildings, the gate out of sight. “I want Wraiths watching the caravan. I want to know what they trade, who they talk to, where they source their goods, and a copy of their ledger. I don’t see them not keeping track of deals. Sounded like this wasn’t the first batch of Atmo they’ve dealt with. Get me a name.”
“I recommend Scarlet and Kaslin,” she opined professionally, all pretense of coy teasing gone.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Scarlet is designated to keep an eye over the Atmo until everyone gets used to each other and Kaslin is in charge of Toril. Send Faye and Raine.”
“Myself?”
He glanced at the grey-furred female, her having abandoned using Pan as furniture and standing stiff, her tail attached to his arm the only discrepancy in the image of a hardened assassin before him. “I want you to take a few security members and teach them what you’ve taught Harrow.”
Her ear twitched. “You were aware?”
A snort escaped him. “Her gait shifted. Either she bothered you to teach her how to move like a Blade or she’s copying the way your hips swing.”
The slight shift to a sultry look gave away an obvious desire to dig into that comment, but it was defeated by the context surrounding it. “How many?”
“Jax!” he called out, Harrow joining her mate after the two finished applying treatment to a smaller wound on a carapace.
“Yes, Grand Hunter?” the black-furred male replied, his flat tone unsure of if he was being summoned in any official capacity.
“How many of the security are proficient enough in CQC to take on new training?”
Jax blinked, scratching his chin with a claw. “I would say that none are to a level you would wish—our training pales to what you provided for us—but perhaps four might be of sufficient skill.”
Joseph tipped his head towards the massive male. “There you have it. Take four of security and get them moving quietly. I want each of them topped off for marksmanship too. Harrow, you manage that since you’re still the best shot in the pack.”
The orange-furred female jolted, obviously not expecting to be included. “Oh, uh, yeah! Um, yes, Grand Hunter.”
He raised a brow at her floundering, the Head of Technology refusing to look at him. “Odd for you to use the title.”
“I just... it felt like what I should say.”
Joseph grunted, unconvinced, but not bothered enough to remark. “Before that, I wanted to ask you to transcribe the document. We need a physical copy others can read.”
She deflated, her gaze burrowing into the ground. “Can I ask why?”
“This is bigger than just us, Harrow. The pack deserves to know,” he replied quietly, feeling guilty that he needed to ask her to thoroughly dig through something that had made her physically ill. “I’d ask Violet, but she’s going to be busy with the Atmo. Plus, I don’t want her to read that.”
A squeeze on his wrist reminded him that Pan was quietly watching. “She must know as well. She is the leader of her people.”
“I... She’s just a kid,” he muttered, not wanting to admit that Pan was right. The understanding smile from her defused any further argument. The Queen had watched the fate of her people and had taken it far better than he would have hoped to ask for. If she was expected to help raise her species from the ashes, then she would need every bit of information she can get her hands on. It was his job to ensure that she knew what to do with it.
“Okay,” Harrow agreed after a moment, her voice strained. “If we need copies, I’d want someone else to do it, if that’s okay.”
“Thanks, Harrow.” He reached out to tussle the fur on her head, the female retreating back a step to tuck behind Jax. His questioning protest died in his throat as he let his hand drop. He was asking her to do something she would rather not. She was allowed to be mad about it. “So, Wraiths on the caravan for information, security to be trained as stealth snipers, and Harrow will get a usable transcript ready for everyone.”
“It will be done, Grand Hunter,” Jax affirmed, patting Harrow who nodded her agreement before the two returned to assisting the pack with the Atmo. Violet was calming them while Mama assisted in processing any healroot that was needed, Rose and Cobalt standing on either side of the Queen stoically.
Tel pecked him on the cheek. “I will order the Wraiths to depart at once. They will require time to prepare.”
He nodded, offering her a weak smile that was marred by his guilt as she left, a sharp whistle calling the girls. Pan leaned into his arm, her tail shifting to wrap around his waist. “We will be well,” she assured softly, a paw grabbing his hand. He gave it a squeeze. “What was the message?”
Joseph swallowed. “We’ll go over it as a group when Harrow is done,” his gaze slipped upwards, the dwindling hours in the day passing by. “It’s a lot to take in.”
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
“Leader,” Nav called over the monitors, their tone bored. Willin didn’t blame the Lilhun, they had been mostly staring at charts and readouts for as long as they had been space-borne. It got tiring keeping track of so much information.
“Go ahead.”
“Mild disturbance to systems, suspected EW field of the warp-spike. If we were not aware prior, I would have assumed it mere calibration error.”
Willin furrowed his brow, his tail lashing in his seat. “This far out?”
“Affirmative,” Nav replied, tapping the screen with the back of their paw in frustration before deflating into their chair. “I would suggest that we await reinforcement EW ships to disable it, but I believe we should be able to progress purely based on how strong the signal is.”
“No. Assuming the distress call was accurate, we would be dead in the sky just the same. Tech?”
“Nothing worth caring about,” she dismissed with a wave of her paw over her shoulder. He was pretty sure she was playing a game on her console, but the female had an implant to track the system status without needing to actually do anything, so her word was as good as manually checking.
“Nothing we care about now, or nothing that we need to care about because you’re going to activate our defences?” he returned with a hint of chastisement.
The screen flickered to several menus of dense text, new lines added before it changed back to the entertainment. “Yes.”
Willin nodded, satisfied that the slight push would probably have them immune to most conventional electronic interruptions. “Okay. Nav, make sure we stay on course. Tech is good, but she is hardly the Hunt Mother.”
“Affirmative, Leader.”
“Comms, How’s your systems?”
“Operational, Leader.”
“So it’s likely that the habitation ship continued under the assumption of a mild disruption. Let me know if it suddenly fails.”
Comms nodded silently, having little else to do for now besides keep an eye out for communications. Willin was pretty sure that Tech could set up something for him to do, but professional obligations mandated him bored stiff. Not everyone could end up the product of successful military trials, nor end up a survivor of a terrorist attack that availed themselves to it.
The dark green-furred male fixed his sleeve as he poured over reports, his job outside of combat and diplomacy to be reviewing how others performed such. As much of a disaster the Union was, it had been passed down the ranks that there existed members of the collective who were more amiable individually.
How did they learn about that? Willin didn’t know. It was above his rank, and thus, not his problem.
Either way, since they had fought off the attacks, they had been expanding Lilhun space at a hurried pace in a particular direction. It was described as ‘strategic acquisition of viable habitats’, or—more commonly amongst the lesser of the military—see it; take it.
They were scanning anything that so much as supported fire, as asinine as it was. They had the ability to check if an atmosphere could support Lilhun occupation, but the orders that came seemed to be searching for something specific. It wasn’t even an issue until recently, their progress through the most recent vectors being something of importance to the top. They had found quite a few possible places to set up, and several habitation ships were redirected to occupy them, but each was designed to be little more than a forward military base, proper colonization being an afterthought.
With a few more places to fall back to—or continue their species in relative peace should the worst come to pass for the home system—Willin would have expected easement in the search. It seemed that it was best for him to simply be the Leader of a utility craft, because the top continued their investigations.
Regardless of his opinions, they were well on the way to the coordinates transmitted by the stranded crew of the habitation ship, victims of the warp-spike that his crew were being introduced to. The fabricators were currently spitting out water-proof equipment for his crew, but they would be pretty limited in weaponry to distribute until they supplied more material. The machine was slow, clunky, and inefficient, but it was a foray into new technology purloined from the Union, so there were hiccups expected with iterations.
He wouldn’t worry about arming the entire surviving force—not yet. The main issue with Hunter packs was that allegiances shifted. No longer were they a pack of the military, moving under commands and reigned in by consequences. They were feral; free from the united force of their peers.
Willin didn’t blame them in the slightest. They were stranded and the communications they managed had apparently cost them every AEC they had available. He was just wary of how many of them would welcome the reintegration into a larger structure after so long fighting tooth and claw for the barest necessity, led by those who they deemed worthy. Why sacrifice their positions within their packs to resume a paltry station at the bottom? Why abandon the dens they made by paw, the relationships they forged through blood?
Majority would, he figured—a comparative few wished to remain servants—but until a larger fleet arrived to promise warm bed and warmer food, there was a fair chance that the Grand Hunters would resist and influence their pack to remain under their pads.
He couldn’t say if the top would wish the occupation of the planet to continue, but if they did, then he supposed that they could do worse than a few competent leaders vying for territory. Primitive, perhaps, but that should be resolved with a few shipments and another habitation ship supplying resources and labour.
He closed his documents and sighed, a languid claw scratching at his ear.
The ‘fun’ part would be doing his duty of offering the opportunity to those who claimed command on the new planet. It was an obligation he wasn’t looking forward to. On top of likely being told where to shove it, he would need to submit reports of the various packs to the higher-ups so that they knew who to work with first. Belligerent or defiant Lilhuns would be left to fend for themselves until their pack collapsed under them to chase a better life with settlements or cities built with military blessing. It was hardly a better living for most to scavenge for their comforts when armour, dens, security, and recreation were but a few suns away.
“Tech?” he called, not bothering to look if she had tipped an ear—her audio interface had perfect pass-through. Despite the damage that the volume of her entertainment would do to organic eardrums, the synthetic ones she had could likely function even under the deepest oceans—though she herself would have passed due to the pressure. “Can you give me something to do for a while?”
With a minimal pause, a puzzle game flickered on his screen. He exhaled slowly as he tried not to be too disappointed. Tech knew he wanted to turn his brain off, she just disagreed, and was probably right. Too much mind-numbing activity would lessen his reaction in the event of an emergency.
He dragged a pad over the numbers, adding them together and allowing new ones to populate the spaces the old ones occupied.
At least it was something.
Next

I(25F) had to say goodbye to my sweetest boy Teddy(14M) Sunday night. The pain is unbearable, and I feel like I'm stuck in a trance hoping I snap out of it and that none of it is true.
Teddy and I lived out here in PA with older siblings for the past 2 almost 3 years. We're originally from NY, where my mom and my younger brother still live. Thursday Teddy had 2 seizures, first one was at 5:30am, I was in denial due to only seeing him post-seizure. I monitored him and he had his second at 6pm. It happened in the bathroom before our walk, and I got down on the floor to comfort him until he got back up. So as soon as he was up, I called a local vet, and she told me to wait until there was a 3rd to take him to emergency and to schedule an appt in the meantime. I called my mom crying immediately and explained everything to her, so she booked us a vet appt back home in NY.
Saturday, we made the drive up, we got to my mom's house, and he was ecstatic, he had boiled chicken for dinner, he ran, he jumped, he was 100% himself... up until 9pm that night. To make this short, Sunday at the vet nothing could be done for him. It turned out to be Cancer. They gave us a weeks' worth of medication to comfort him. We took him back to my mom's house and just spent time with him. At around 10:45pm he made a cry and couldn't stand himself up. I wrapped him in a blanket, and we got in the car. My brother drove us, and I stayed in the backseat with him laying on my chest. It was a 13-minute drive and his heartbeat stopped 1 minute before we pulled into the driveway.
I am devastated, I was in shock, crying. I spoke to him the whole time in his last moments, I kissed him, I rubbed him, but I couldn't hold back my sobs. And although everyone keeps telling me that he chose to pass in my arms and not on a cold metal table I can't help but feel this immense guilt for making him experience the transition of death. I just want to know that HE knows how much we loved him, and that I didn't want him to leave, and it wasn't up to me. That I would've taken this illness away and carried it myself if I could.
Teddy was born January 18, 2009. We came into each other's lives in February of 2009, when I was 1 month away from being 11 years old. For the past 14 years we have been inseparable. He has such a huge personality. Every morning as soon as he heard me wake up he'd run over to cuddle. We'd lay there and I'd talk to him until he had enough of me stalling a walk. And every night, when he was tired and ready to sleep, he'd make sure I know it was my bedtime too.
I came home to PA last night due to work this week, but I will be returning back to NY for his ashes. It was incredibly hard stepping foot back into my room, when all I smelled was him.
There's nothing really that I'm looking for from posting this. I just felt like I needed to express this somewhere where I know family and friends won't keep telling me the same things, that things will get better with time. Because the truth is, I don't ever want to feel better. It's not fair that the world keeps moving without him in it. And I don't feel like I deserve to ever feel better without him here.
To my monkey boy, I love you. You'll be home soon... please come visit my dreams.
Edit: Sorry, when I said I wrapped him in a blanket and my brother drove us, we were rushing to the Emergency vet to put him down. He passed right before he pulled into their parking lot and we took him inside, got confirmation and said our goodbyes..

(I posted this in dogs not realizing there was a pet loss one, sorry if you see this twice)
I(25F) had to say goodbye to my sweetest boy Teddy(14M) Sunday night. The pain is unbearable, and I feel like I'm stuck in a trance hoping I snap out of it and that none of it is true.
Teddy and I lived out here in PA with older siblings for the past 2 almost 3 years. We're originally from NY, where my mom and my younger brother still live. Thursday Teddy had 2 seizures, first one was at 5:30am, I was in denial due to only seeing him post-seizure. I monitored him and he had his second at 6pm. It happened in the bathroom before our walk, and I got down on the floor to comfort him until he got back up. So as soon as he was up, I called a local vet, and she told me to wait until there was a 3rd to take him to emergency and to schedule an appt in the meantime. I called my mom crying immediately and explained everything to her, so she booked us a vet appt back home in NY.
Saturday, we made the drive up, we got to my mom's house, and he was ecstatic, he had boiled chicken for dinner, he ran, he jumped, he was 100% himself... up until 9pm that night. To make this short, Sunday at the vet nothing could be done for him. It turned out to be Cancer. They gave us a weeks' worth of medication to comfort him. We took him back to my mom's house and just spent time with him. At around 10:45pm he made a cry and couldn't stand himself up. I wrapped him in a blanket, and we got in the car. My brother drove us, and I stayed in the backseat with him laying on my chest. It was a 13-minute drive and his heartbeat stopped 1 minute before we pulled into the driveway.
I am devastated, I was in shock, crying. I spoke to him the whole time in his last moments, I kissed him, I rubbed him, but I couldn't hold back my sobs. And although everyone keeps telling me that he chose to pass in my arms and not on a cold metal table I can't help but feel this immense guilt for making him experience the transition of death. I just want to know that HE knows how much we loved him, and that I didn't want him to leave, and it wasn't up to me. That I would've taken this illness away and carried it myself if I could.
Teddy was born January 18, 2009. We came into each other's lives in February of 2009, when I was 1 month away from being 11 years old. For the past 14 years we have been inseparable. He has such a huge personality. Every morning as soon as he heard me wake up he'd run over to cuddle. We'd lay there and I'd talk to him until he had enough of me stalling a walk. And every night, when he was tired and ready to sleep, he'd make sure I know it was my bedtime too.
I came home to PA last night due to work this week, but I will be returning back to NY for his ashes. It was incredibly hard stepping foot back into my room, when all I smelled was him.
There's nothing really that I'm looking for from posting this. I just felt like I needed to express this somewhere where I know family and friends won't keep telling me the same things, that things will get better with time. Because the truth is, I don't ever want to feel better. It's not fair that the world keeps moving without him in it. And I don't feel like I deserve to ever feel better without him here.
To my monkey boy, I love you. You'll be home soon.. please come visit my dreams
EDIT: Sorry, when I said I wrapped him in a blanket and my brother drove us, we were rushing to the Emergency vet to put him down. He passed right before he pulled into their parking lot and we took him inside, got confirmation and said our goodbyes..

Friday I was in a no fault accident and was hit by a person who ran a stop sign. My car is probably totaled (2009, chevy cobalt 215,000). I was in the process of saving to buy a new one, but alas the time is now. I make 55k a year, have a 12 month cushion and have 6k saved for a new car. My monthly expenses are ~1100$ (rent 800$, I.E.Subs=40$, cook at home) everything included except savings contributions. I was hoping to not have to buy til late next year but Im basically SOL now. Any advice? This is my first time being a victim of an accident and idk if im gonna get much for my car. Was really hoping to buy a car out right next year for 25k-ish so i wouldnt have a car payment. Any advice? I can hold off on buying it for a while and use buses and one-wheel; however, grocery shopping and trips to see my parents are gonna be a pain in the ass. Any and all advice is welcome. I just want something super reliable and not picky as anything is a step up from a 14 y/o car.

I have a 2017 Chevy Cruze and I'd say probably about a year or so ago I really started to notice in the winter months here that my tires were always dropping in pressure. Sometimes almost having to fill them up every couple of days if not every week. I always just assumed this was because of the cold weather we get here but now that I've been paying attention more it's still happening now that temps are in the 60-70+ degree range here.
An interesting thing I have noticed when I monitor the tire pressure in the menu. Before I get any alerts for low pressure I can see that on one side the pressure seems to keep going down and it usually starts to drop in pressure within a day or two of filling up. Until eventually one of the tires on that side hits about 27 or 26 and then the alert comes on. It will then sit at 26 or 27 if I don't fill it up right away (say I got home and the alert came on when I get in the next morning it doesn't go below 27 or 26) Now the driver's side of the car seems to go in the opposite direction where it actually goes up in pressure a little bit but never down.
​
I was just wondering if anybody else has experienced an issue like this where you are constantly having to put air in the tires and it just so happens that it's always on one side of the car. I've been trying to think of when this started. I got new tires immediately after my lease was up and I bought the car out since the tires on it that it came with somehow were already pretty worn down at that time. For some reason, I want to say this started after I got the new tires put on but I'm not confident.
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Any advice would be appreciated.

It’s a 2009 Chevy Cobalt LT version with the 2.2L engine just need to take out the outer tie rod and replace it (ole lady bent it before I knew her and I am just finding out about it so now that ik the issue I’m here trying to see what I need to replace it tool wise

I’m a broke 21 year old, I have a Chevy impala 2009 LT. I already did everything I want to do cosmetics wise, lowered, rims/tires, wrapped the trim in and out, car play screen, tinted head/tail lights, tinted windows. But I’m moving to the engine now, I am thinking about doing cold spark plugs, cold air intake, performance exhaust, and maybe a tune. Is that a good idea? I want my engine to last. I just need a little more speed than stock nothing crazy. I was thinking about a super charger but too much money. I just want this thing as fast as I can make it without spending a fortune, just until I have money saved for a faster car

I have had this speed dependant noise (sounds like WOM WOM WOM WOM WOM WOM) for about 2 months now.It pretty clearly sounds like it is coming from the drivers side front. It recently got worse, really noisy. Finally got around to trying to fix it today. Now me thinking this was a wheel bearing issue, changed the wheel bearing. Just the one side. However after test driving, the sound is still the same intensity while going straight, and still gets louder when turning left AND right just like before. What else could be causing this? I thought maybe the other bearing is bad as well but the sound still sounds like its coming from drivers front and gets worse turning either direction. So im stumped. Any ideas? Oh also my front shocks are pretty shot, but all my other suspension and steering components are under a year old.

*Semi long story, about a 5 min read*
Here is the story: In March of 2022 my first vehicle (2004 Chevy Trailblazer aka Blackjack) developed a tick, unfortunately I was no mechanic and had driven it for 5 years and had over 200k miles on it. It served me well but it was time for something new, I sold it for $1400. Also in March of 2022 was when car prices were at pandemic level high unfortunately, luckily I had some money tucked away for this to put down a good down deposit on a 5-10k car. I finally found my pick, a 2009 Mercury Grand Marquis aka Black Betty, former detectives car, black, came from California. (Which means a lot living in the midwest). I paid just under $7000 after tax, title, ect. I had always liked the look of the GM, Vics, TC. Before I got my Trailblazer I tired to convince my parents to let me get a Crown Vic but they wouldn't bite.
Fast forward to sometime last year, my girlfriends grandma was going to sell her old pop up camper but instead gave it to her for free.
Fast forward again to about 2 months ago. I just turned 21 and my parents told me that they had an investment account they made for me when I was born, which was now being transferred into my name (About $19,000) I excitedly told my girlfriend about this and that was my mistake. My mom always says "It's easy to spend someone else's money." She then says that I should buy a truck to haul the camper with, since her vehicle (2012 GMC Terrain) was much nicer and only a 4cyl. I didn't mind the idea and thought "maybe ill like a bigger vehicle again" after finding some and test driving some I put my car on FB marketplace and sold it to a couple looking to buy there son a car that he could make payments to them. I sold it for $4200 and then 3 days later I bought a 2009 Toyota 4Runner, It was not a truck but it could tow and reminded me of my old Trailblazer a little. I did however pay more than I should have but thats besides the point.
After I sold my car I thought "I didn't like that car that much did I?"
Well it turns out I did.
For about the next two and a half weeks after that I was a mess, crying and have the worst sellers and buyers remorse Ive ever had, all because I let my girlfriend talk me into buying a vehicle to haul a stupid pop up. I didn't listen to my parents who said they would let me borrow their Traverse if I wanted, I didn't even listen to myself, as I was driving to the dealership with my parents I told them and myself I was not going to do it, and I did it anyway. I cared more about making my girlfriend happy than I did myself, and sold my perfectly good car, for another perfectly good car.
Its now about a month and a week past when I bought the 4Runner and I was finally over the hump of sellers and buyers remorse, when I get a message from the guy I sold my car to.
The guy text me saying basically his son missed his first payment to them so he took the car back lol. In my first week of sellers remorse I had messaged him and asked if I could buy the car back, I got no response for a week so I figured it was a lost cause. But here we come to the title question: Should I buy my old car back?
I obviously would love to have it back but I no doubt would probably be losing about 4-6k reselling the 4Runner. Also the guy fixed every little thing that I probably just got used to when I had it, so he is now asking $800 more than what I sold it to him. For everything he did fix, its worth more than that easily.
Neither my girlfriend nor my parents are giving their opinion on this decision, and I don't blame them.
My two decisions are this:
A) Buy the car back and be happier, but have to grit my teeth and bare the loss of thousands of dollars, and probably be in the dog house for a week or so (She wont give me her opinion but I know she didn't care for the car so much, she just liked the tinted cop windows and V8 lol)
or
B) Keep the 4Runner and stick with my mistake and learn from it for the next time I go to purchase or sell a vehicle
I get this is a rare opportunity that someone who sells their car and wants to buy it back gets, I recognize that and I honestly just cant make a decision, Ive never been good at making decisions and probably never will.
I told the guy I would give him an answer by Monday, and Im writing this Sunday night so idk how many people will see this, let alone read it all. But thank you to anyone who did.
Please give me your opinion, or if anyone has bought back their car please tell me how you felt after. I will try to respond to any questions( If there is any) in the morning.
Thank you for reading.