Hello everyone,
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I recently decided to go with Tunguska, after playing some basic games with black wind haqqislam and kaldstrom starter.
As I'm a complete novice at creating list (I only used models from starters pack so no need to question anything) I thought you could help me with them ?
I created 2 lists, 1 with TAG (because this big boy is a big part of my motivation to go to Tunguska) and 1 without him. Each in 300 pts and trying to be the most generalist I can (As I know I'll need to adapt my lists to opponent/scenarios later on)
Those 2 lists are to help me knowing what to buy next. Actually I only have the Tunguska starter and I tried to create the cheapest lists possible. One thing to consider is that I can have Dire foes characters individually (so cheaper than if I have to buy the full box, Jelena for example is at 10 buck for me)
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First list with the TAG :
gfgIdHVuZ3Vza2EHRWNvIFRhZ4EsAgELAIGyAQMAAIGyAQkAAIGyAQEAAIGyAQEAAIGXAQEAAIGYAQEAAIREAQcAAIO6AQUAAIGkAQEAAIGWAQEAAIGpAQEAAgEAgZUBAQA%3D
I never played fire teams but I will be able to have a securitate core with interventor. I will be able to have a Haris too with hollow man, Kriza and Stempler
Solo daktari may be suboptimal, any advice could be helpful, as again I never built any list in N4 before
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Second list without the TAG :
gfgIdHVuZ3Vza2ERRWNvbm9taWMgLSBObyBUQUeBLAIBCgCBsgEBAACBsgEDAACBsgEJAACBsgEBAACGDgEBAACERwEEAACERAEEAACDugEFAACBmAEBAACBlwEEAAIFAIGVAQEAAIGpAQEAAIGpAQEAAIGWAQEAAIGZAQEA
Fun part is that it's 33% cheaper. I went for Jelenaas she is cheap for me and seems good. I don't have MSV so her triangulated fire seemed good for me to compensate I know it's not the same models but I'll play reaktion and stempelr zond from the same zond box as it's the same S (I think opponents will agree as they are my only 2 bots)
I never played fire teams but I will be able to have a securitate core with Jelena as she counts as a securitate if I understood correctly the (securitate). Should I put the interventor with them or keep him outside ? I will be able to have a Haris too with hollow man, Kriza and Stempler
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Do not hesitate to tell me if you see anything wrong or counterproductive. I jumped into this faction for big guns and hacker boys, and even if i'm on budget, I'll try to take your advices into account, as long as I don't have to buy 8 box for 8 models (at the moment at least, it can be good advices for the long run !)
Plus, I have to admit, it's pretty fun to build lists with this army builder (I can't say the same for Battlescribe for 40k) so any advice will be an excuse to try building list again

Portable solar panels are a type of solar energy technology that can be easily transported and set up in different locations. They consist of photovoltaic cells that convert sunlight into electricity, which can be used to power various devices, appliances, or charge batteries.
https://usasolrsystem.com/2023/03/18/solar-panels-reusable/

Head over to https://www.bissell.com/ and wait for the chat window to pop up in the lower left part of your screen. Once it does, greet the rep and maybe ask a question like “how was your day” or something like that… After that, tell them that you just tried setting up your robot for the first time, but something weird is happening and it’s not working. I said that when I went to turn on the robot the green power light flashes rapidly for like 10 seconds then stopped. You must make up your own excuse as to why the robot isn’t working. I recommend going on youtube and seeing how the robot works, then saying how your robot doesn’t work in one of those ways. The secret to this jig is getting the rep to think that the problem is not with the battery, but instead the robot itself. The rep will ask you some questions about the battery, and you must emphasize how its working correctly. You can say how you made sure the dock was working and indeed transferring power to the battery. You can even say that you had a friend come over with his fully charged battery/ dock, and the robot still had (your problem you described earlier). The rep will eventually ask for your serial number, a receipt, and when you bought it. When they ask, provide them with this info (that you gathered before doing the jig). If all of your info is good, the rep will tell you that in order to receive a new unit, they will need to inspect the unit (they’re asking for you to ship the robot back to them). I simply told them that my wife literally just threw it away, and proceeded to start complaining and getting super sad… I got lucky with saying this considering the fact that only about 5 minutes had went by, so it is kinda suspicious that she threw it away in that time period… You can use this excuse but of course switch up the wording. You need to act super sad considering the fact you “didn’t know” you would have to send it back, and also because you just threw away an expensive item… The rep then should say that they have to receive the unit in order to send you new one, but keep arguing. DON’T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER. Unlike other companies, it’s not a set-in-stone rule that they have to receive the robot back before sending another one. The rep does have the power to make exceptions and just send you a new one, which leads me to an extremely important point: The rep must “like you” and trust you. After haggling the rep about not being able to ship it back for inspection, they should eventually tell you that since you have the sales receipt, they will go ahead and process the replacement for you. If you get this message, you did the jig successfully. The rep will then send you an email asking for another photo of your receipt/ invoice (make sure it’s flawless)! After you send the email, you should receive your robot within a 2 weeks. NOTE: A day after completing the jig, you can go back to the chat and ask if they shipped your robot. They will ask you for your robot, and then tell you that you should receive it within 4-6 days (if the invoice you sent passed their inspection, which it 99% of the time does if the invoice was flawless).

why am i suffering? i should be letting her hack away at my skull to perform a very crude craniectomy so she can pour battery acid on my exposed brain and giggle whenever it makes that sizzling sound without administering any anesthesia all because she let me hit it from the back

Has anyone played around with their max HR setting?
I’ve recently come over from Garmin (still use it for running/cycling/swimming) but noticed the Whoop HR calculation is a lot lower than what I have set on my Garmin. Admittedly I did the ol 220 - age to set the Garmin Max HR which I know isn’t the most accurate.
Does anyone have any experience in this area and what’s best without stepping into a lab?
Many thanks
🤟🏼

Been taking my pills religiously on time (5pm) until I got drunk and missed one last Friday. Automatically drank it the next day, so I drank 2 pills on Saturday. Had intercourse on Monday without pulling out.
The thing is, I am now (Wednesday) on my first placebo day. Am I protected? I read somewhere that I have to take a new pack right after the last pill since I missed a pill and had intercourse near my 7 day interval.

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
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Chapter 14: Yearning For Stars
Rextros the Black Scar was, incredibly, a man noted for his black scar.
It was his symbol as a survivor. And more importantly, as a winner. He may have a scar, but the man he'd last fought had two broken arms and a big enough gap in his front teeth that he now whistled in between speaking.
Over the years, he'd fought with the best of the worst, turning bars inside out and alleys upside down. As a D-rank pugilist, he regularly left a reminder that of all the mean sods to ply their trade in this land, he was the meanest of them all.
And his reward? His own cozy little forest hideout, complete with a gambling table, a drinks bar and semi-loyal goons. It was everything a good little outlaw wanted. Except that he never wanted to be an outlaw in the first place.
He wanted to be a pianist.
“... Damn … !”
Rextros the Black Scar had no wish to lead his own group of bandits. A cold tent in a damp forest? A dirty camp filled with the stench of a dozen guys who didn't bathe, even though there's a river right next to them?
These weren't the dreams of a normal lad growing up on a farm. But he knew that working the land wasn't for him. His hands were made for more than sowing seeds and milking cows.
It was for playing nocturnes beneath the moonlight, his soul reaching out to gently sweep across the keys faster than his fingers did.
However, that dream wasn't to be.
Once he was old enough that he could no longer sneak his way into fancy bars and ply his budding skills on the pianos reserved for the famous, he knew he had to buy his own. It infuriated him that pianos were the playthings of the nobility. He couldn't even walk into a piano workshop before being tossed out. It was a closed circle for the rich and the few. And that lit a fire in his belly.
So what if the fancy lords and ladies couldn't stomach the thought of a mere peasant like him dirtying their favourite pastime? It wasn't them he'd play for.
Rextros the Black Scar would play for the people.
And he'd play a piano he could move with his heart as much as his hands—a St. Liane baby grand in mahogany red, rolled straight out of the Royal St. Liane Workshop in the middle of the royal capital and onto the bustling street outside.
That was the dream.
A dream which had slid further away with each passing day. The crowns he'd earned from his fights were barely worth the silver needed to hire a sister to stitch himself back up afterwards. And all the callouses on his hands were suddenly around his knuckles and not his fingertips.
Then, like a twisted angel summoned from the lowest abyss, that's when she appeared.
“Rextros the Black Scar. What a dreadfully dull name. It's as if you picked it out from a book of villains. Couldn't you have gone for something more original? The Black Etude, perhaps?”
“Hah? You picking a fight? And what's with that get-up? You hard selling for a casino? I don't gamble, so find someone else to fleece.”
“You say that, but isn't every day a gamble with the law to you? Honestly, however are you going to acquire the funds to buy a St. Liane of all things? You couldn't have picked a more expensive thing even if you tried. Greedy much?”
“... Who are you?! How do you know …”
“Hey, hey, hey. Wanna hear about a get rich quick scheme? Super reliable! Everyone's done it! And don't worry, it has nothing to do with gambling. Unless you want to?”
“D-Don't mess with me, woman! Who are you?! Keep away! I'm no fool—”
Rextros clenched his teeth as he recalled the memory.
He was no fool … Except that he was.
“... Damn … it … all! ...”
He crashed his fist down against his small table beneath his tent.
He'd stopped doing that lately. Firstly, he'd gotten used to the idiocy of his underlings. Secondly, it spilled his crowns everywhere and picking them up from the grass was a pain. If he ever wanted to buy that immaculate St. Liane, he'd need every last crown this rotten venture in poor decision making could get him.
So … how did it all go so wrong?
First it was the type of jobs. They'd started easy. Shaking down couriers and breaking into warehouses. Then they got harder. Not because the couriers got wiser or the warehouses tougher.
It was because he'd pieced together what he'd been stealing—and why.
He'd left in the middle of his last job and never looked back. Not because he had no regrets about running. But because he'd feared he'd see the face of that girl in her casino get-up looking right back at him.
The thought sent shivers running down his spine.
But maybe that was just because of the cold.
A forest. A cold, damp forest. This wasn't much better. But it was easier. Merchants used this road. He left the farmers alone. And the trolls. But the merchants? They took extortion as a business expense. And every now and again, a wandering nobleman and his family would come to hunt, forgetting that they were more likely to be found by the death beetles before they found a deer.
Was it kidnapping? Sure. But he was doing them a favour. The ransom reward was his just earnings. And what a reward they always were.
He was close. So close.
One last gig. One last merchant. One last idiot.
He knew this camp wouldn't last. But it didn't need to. He was so close. Then he could abandon this damp lifestyle and these stinking men and play ballades beneath the acoustic roof of the Reitzlake Grand Bridge.
That girl with a huge gob, haughty expression, fine clothes and dark hair without so much as an inkling of dirt on it was his ticket to freedom. That sword alone looked like it could be traded for any piano he wanted. He was even glad the idiots hadn't taken it from her. If they had, he likely would never have seen it.
Now he wished they'd just tried mugging her and suffered the consequences for it. Their dead bodies weren't likely going to reveal where he was.
“B-Boss … what was that? Who was she? Why did we have to give everything over?”
Rextros smashed his fist against the table again. This time, a cloud of dust came up as a crack appeared.
“Shut up! Shut up, all of you! I'm thinking!”
One by one, his underlings looked at each other with differing amounts of confusion and resentment. They didn't understand. They didn't know.
That girl, that ticket to freedom, was a poisoned bait. She'd come with one purpose and one alone. And that was to remind Rextros that so long as he lived, his obligations remained. He knew it. He'd dreamed it.
And now he feared the consequences of his flight.
But what could he do? That girl's message was clear. No matter where he ran, he would never be allowed to wander freely again. Every crown he stole wasn't his to keep. He wanted an out. But how could he? He'd seen too much. Not on purpose. But that didn't matter. He wasn't as blind as the rest.
And that was a problem.
“Boss! What's going on! That was everything! It was our pay, our weapons, you gave it all away! Who was she?!”
A problem like losing the loyalty of his men.
Forget making back his losses. He'd lose his life if they all turned on him. And he knew for a fact that the knives and daggers they carried were still on them, hidden in their boots and their clothes.
As every pair of eyes turned black, Rextros clenched his fist.
There was only one thing he could do. It was … It was dangerous. But it was his only choice. Not just to make it out of here alive. But to escape with it tomorrow, too.
He had to silence that girl.
Before she could reach her mistress, she had to be dealt with.
That way, he'd have time. That casino girl had to only suspect. Otherwise, she'd be here herself. Despite his fears, he knew she wasn't truly omnipotent. More importantly, it'd mean he'd have the money to flee. Even with just the crowns, he'd have enough to survive. More than enough.
He had to deal with that girl … and yet, if she was anything near as strong as that monster ...
No.
He had no choice. Not if he wanted to survive. Even if she matched him as a fighter, he had to deal with her. Then, he'd get out. Lay low. Flee the kingdom. That St. Liane was beyond his reach. But there were others. A Zelronto, perhaps. Lacking in finishing and incomparable with the tonal brilliance of a St. Liane, but bearable nonetheless.
It was time to leave these idiots behind.
But not without using them one last time.
“Shut up! All of you!”
“But Boss—”
“That girl. She was here on behalf of the Adventurer's Guild.”
“What?!”
The looks of rebellion were quickly replaced by panic.
Rextros smiled internally to himself. It was every outlaw's worst nightmare. Those that weren't him, of course.
The Adventurer's Guild weren't like knights or soldiers, who'd make so much noise looking for them that they could pack up and leave without so much as leaving an empty bottle behind.
Adventurers were hunters. Hunters that got paid absolute jack for the work they did. And that meant they did their jobs for reasons other than crowns.
In short, the worst type of people.
“She wanted to cut me a deal. All our gains for a day to leave. Except that won't matter if she's dealt with first. Go get her. Now.”
A few of the men shifted. Most were just confused.
“B-But if she's an adventurer, why didn't we just jump her already?”
“Fool! I was watching the treeline! You guys can't stand sentry even if I peel your eyelids off! I had to make sure there was nobody else! Now you see why I'm the leader and you idiots are not!”
“B-Boss!! Then, then that means ...”
“She's alone. Probably thinks she's stronger than all of us. Some brat that just got promoted to E-rank and thinks they're hot stuff. You know what to do.”
“Yes, Boss!!”
Rextros sighed as the underlings shot off, their hidden daggers being pulled from whatever sorry part of their bodies they hid them in.
It was going to be close. That girl … the sword she had. Only an extremely capable swordswoman would dare wield such a weapon. To be anything less was to invite every rogue within spitting distance to try and steal it from her, alive or dead.
Even so, she was alone. She had to be. The way these people operated demanded it. He had fourteen men under his command. Idiots to the last, but idiots with brawn and no discipline. If they all hurled themselves at her, there was simply no way she would be able to defeat them all.
And if so few made it back that he could claim all the loot for himself, then so be it.
Rextros smiled. Perhaps this wasn't such an unfortunate meeting, after all. He'd been meaning to consider a way to leave his goons in the lurch. If someone could deal with them for him, then all the better.
He simply needed to be ready to make good on his escape.
BRRROOOOOWWMMM.
It was at the exact moment that Rextros the Black Scar thought this that his feet suddenly left the ground.
“Gwaaaahhhhhhhh!”
Letting out a scream, he flailed uselessly at the air as he was suddenly flung against the back of his tent, taking it and also a tree with him as he went hurtling down the mound he'd pitched his makeshift throne on.
An enormous, ear splitting explosion drowned out his scream. Or at least what sounded like an explosion. He couldn't be sure with the entire forest groaning in pain. Leaves, branches and trees bent wildly as though slapped by the force of a thousand hurricanes. And yet Rextros instinctively knew that it could have been worse.
The source of that explosion was further away. And it was not aimed towards him.
If it had, he wouldn't be in a position to feel breathless with shock.
Sweat ran down Rextros's face as he crawled up from the dirt. He was lucky. He'd narrowly missed impacting with the tree that now had its roots torn from the soil. Looking around, all he saw was carnage. Bits of the camp were everywhere. And the forest was groaning even louder than before, as though it now had to right itself after being struck by the hand of a god.
Or perhaps a goddess.
That girl … it couldn't be ...
His entire body shaking, Rextros thought about the idiots he'd sent after her. They'd only just left. They … They were probably okay. Even so, could it possibly be a coincidence that she'd set the entire forest on its knees the moment he'd decided on his treachery?
What … What kind of power was this?
That was not the power of some D-rank punk like him. It was beyond that. The sort of power that only named legends past the point of being human possessed.
Had that girl lived a warrior's life, in solitude, training her swordsmanship on some distant mountaintop to achieve that level of destruction?
Rextros now knew he couldn't stay. Not even if all the copper, silver and gold in the world was made available to him. It was time to flee. Right now. Away from this kingdom, filled with more monsters than anyone as insignificant as him had the right to know.
And then maybe, just maybe.
When enough time had passed—he'd be able to take over the farm, and go back to milking cows and tilling fields.
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Hi folks, we've been very critical of administrators for failing to reduce crime around campus, with gun violence an especially frightening trend. It's a justifiable reaction given the frequency and severity of threats to student safety and the historical charge of universities to maintain safe learning environments. Notwithstanding limits to the doctrine of "in loco parentis" and the endemic nature of crime in North Philadelphia (with violent crime surging since 2020), I think students are reasonable to expect that when the university enacts a crime prevention strategy, it does in fact prevent crime. And it's probably fair to hold the administration accountable if they've claimed the lion's share of responsibility for student safety.
What I'd humbly like to add to this conversation, though, is that students themselves can be part of the solution. You can advocate for public safety. You can understand how the manufacture of guns for ostensibly legal purposes drives the black market for guns used in many shootings near campus. You can understand the role of assault rifles in making confrontations between gangs especially deadly for perpetrators and for any pedestrians caught in the crossfire. I hope I'm not portraying myself as some violence prevention expert, because I'm not, and you don't have to hold yourself to that standard. I only want to urge folks to explore how they can solidify their commitments to a safer campus and put them into practice. And that might start with doing something as simple as reading the news.
In that spirit, I'm sharing these articles from a Washington Post series about the AR-15. The links take you to the full versions without a paywall. You don't have to be a WaPo subscriber. Please feel free to circulate with your friends. These are poignant, eye-opening, and not that long. And while the intractability of gun violence in the US might not inspire confidence in your capacity to help solve it, I hope you'll find that learning in itself can be a source of motivation. Not to get too corny, but maybe, maybe, knowledge is power.
A letter from Executive Editor Sally Buzbee on the AR-15 series
What does an AR-15 do to a human body? A visual examination of the deadly damage
Sutherland Springs survivors haunted by an AR-15's carnage, trauma
Magazine restrictions could reduce mass killings by AR-15s, but courts must decide
As guns saturate the United States, police turn to the AR-15
Decades of marketing reinvented the AR-15 into a top-selling firearm
Why do people own AR-15s? 33% of owners cited self-defense, poll finds
How the AR-15 became a powerful political, cultural symbol in America
The AR-15's impact in America: Here's what The Post's examination found
Armed with AR-15s, extremist and militia groups anticipate civil unrest
Gunmakers' growth in red states marks a divide on weapons like the AR-15

Hi! This is the first post in what I hope to be (about) a 7 part series following the adventures of a human destroyer with a crew who was not trained for diplomacy becoming the last chance for peace between two alien species who aren’t very happy that their first contact with humanity is a purpose-built warship blundering into their space. Kida sorta. This is my first time writing anything like this, or really anything at all for public viewership, so feedback is welcome!
This is the prologue, the framing sequence is kinda vague here, this is mostly just to set up the main cast of this show and the titular gunboat, the UNS Crazy Train, so apologies if it drags a bit in a couple places, but I figured it’d be best to exposit now and focus on a more character driven story later (unless y'all really like exposition). Future chapters will probably use the memory transcription framing sequence, the next one will for sure, but I'm not great at writing in first person, so it depends after that. I’m aiming for one post a week, but IRL may have other plans for me.
Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for his original series, The Nature of Predators, It is very good! Read it if you haven’t because, 1:why are you on the NoP subreddit without reading NoP? Silly. And 2:None of this will probably make sense unless you already know a good chunk of NoP’s plot.
I started working on this before part 98 came out, but this story is not set in the primary canon, so effectively that's about where it diverges from the normal timeline. I'll do my best to avoid contradicting lore from before 99 wherever possible!
That's enough introduction, on with the prologue!

Historical Record: July 12th, 2137
“Captain Krenshaw?”
The captain didn’t look up from his datapad, beckoning the visitor into his office. Probably just another new batch of paperwork for me to sign. While he was enthusiastic about captaining the UNS Crazy Train, the first in the UN’s new class of siege-breaker destroyers, he hadn’t anticipated the amount of documents he would have to sign and submit before. Liability waivers for every new piece of equipment on board, confirmations of deliveries of a dozen different ammo types, and signing the admittance documents for every one of the six hundred and thirty souls on board. Maybe the engineers have a new type of wrench they need approval to distribute to the workstations, he thought with a rueful smile.
The ship had been scheduled to launch five days prior, but the fueling shuttle had somehow brought fuel rods half again too long to fit in the reactor, and so the geniuses in engineering had figured out a way to cut them down to size. It was faster than waiting for replacements, but by no means a fast process, and some logistician had decided to take advantage of the ship sitting in dry dock above Mars and managed to add thirty tons of cargo to the manifest.
“The last of the ammunition has been loaded, we have one last matter to attend to before we are cleared for cast off.” The visitor said while handing him a clipboard.
The captain stood, recognizing the voice of Commander Wilson, his second in command and long time friend. If the commander was hand-delivering a hard copy, this must be an important piece of cargo. A cursory reading of the document proved him right, much to his consternation.
“We’re transporting war criminals now, Hanah? I thought four hundred incendiary bombs for the Fissan’s new “terraforming” project was a bit much, Lieutenant Kiref was already complaining about how he wouldn’t get any time to train with his marines with all this guard duty, and now he’s going to have to have to incorporate at least ten people into prisoner watch.”
Wilson shrugged. “I tried to argue with them, but apparently these criminals need to be delivered to the Venlil High Courts pronto. UN command wants any Arxur sympathetic to our cause to know that we don’t use exterminator tactics on defectors.”
Krenshaw sighed, “Great, just what I need to be worried about, racist pyromaniacs on a ship packed to the brim with napalm charges. I suppose I should go and talk to them before we set off, acceptable conduct and all that.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re ready to go other than that?”
Wilson nodded, and Krenshaw followed her out of his office, leaving her in the battle bridge to make final preparations, while the captain got in a lift down to the dock connecting them to the Martian Shipyards.
As he passed the levels, he again marveled at the warship he was now in command of. The Crazy Train was not a particularly large ship, coming in at just under half a klick long and a quarter of that in width and an eighth in height, but the armor made her literally second to none. While the lower half of her twin hulls were armored comparably to any other human warship, the top halves were covered and connected by a series of armor plates collectively thicker than the wingspan of Earth’s largest fighter, not even including spacing. In order to account for her massive weight, the four primary propulsion thrusters (one at the front and rear of each hull) could rotate to face straight down for atmospheric flight.
Her design had been the result of information gleaned during the UN Shadow Fleet’s marauding attack through Chief Hunter Shaza’s sector, notably the complete lack of any anti-capital ship weapons on the surface of any of the Arxur cattle worlds. A conversation with some of the Arxur sympathetic to humanity, and interrogation of one of the cattle farm overseers revealed the reason: apparently, about sixty years ago a cattle world had been drained of guards for another all-out attack, leaving just under one hundred Arxur in charge of roughly three thousand Mazics. One stampede later, and the Arxur had lost control of the farm and all of its anti-starship heavy plasma railguns. The facility was removed with antimatter bombs, but over a hundred bombers were lost in an operation that, had the guns not been operational, could have been handled by three or four. Rather than rework their entire military strategy to rely on smaller, more flexible forces that didn’t require reducing entire galactic sectors to skeleton crews, the Arxur just moved all the heavy guns to orbital installations.
As a result, the UN commissioned three new classes of warship under “Project Rustler,” with the objective of creating purpose-built warships for eliminating orbital defense platforms and liberating cattle farms. The designers of the Crazy Train had come up with the quintessentially human tactic of building a ship so heavily armored and with such powerful engines that she could hard burn past the platforms, dumping dozens of boarding torpedoes and enough countermeasures to cloak a small fleet in her wake, hover above the farm, drop the onboard detachment of marines to the surface, rescue as many cattle as possible, and escape virtually unharmed due to the upper armor plate being thick enough to take dozens of shots that would split a larger ship in two in stride.
Captain Krenshaw’s musings were interrupted by the bell indicating someone else was getting on the lift. The doors slid open, and the massive form of an Arxur blocked the doorway before quickly ducking inside the elevator.
“Mornin’ Captain” growled Lieutenant Kiref, crouching slightly to avoid whacking his head on the seven foot tall ceiling. “I’m heading down to the docks to take delivery of that batch of prisoners. Where are you headed?”
“Same place actually, I figured you might need some help.”
The Lieutenant waved his tail to indicate his skepticism. “Captain, I am more than capable of taking delivery of three Venlil, who are already cuffed. If they are that heavy, I can requisition some marines to help drag their bodies to their cells after they faint. Why are we hauling prisoners anyway? The version of the orders I got were blocked out.”
“Kiref, these are war criminals, exterminators deployed with the UN army on an Arxur scientific research base.”
Kiref cut in, “Well at least they should be accustomed to seeing sentient predator species then, shouldn’t that make them easier to handle?”---”Sir?” quickly correcting his mistake. Captain Krenshaw is tolerant of a lack of decorum, but I really need to get the hang of these human honorifics for the next time I have to justify my service to some admiral Kiref internally chastised himself.
“They were found by their commanding officer after having burned several defectors to death, so I think fainting is nowhere near the worst situation we could have.” Kiref’s yellow slitted eyes went wide, then narrowed with anger. “What’s more, there was another defector who was still on fire, and survived, so this will definitely go public. The UN wanted to try the exterminators at the Hague, make sure everybody else knows that’s not how humanity treats defectors and POWs, but Tarva insisted that they be tried on Venlil Prime. The UN wants to announce the trial before the story breaks, so the prisoners are taking the next ship to Venlil Prime, which is us.”
“Thanks for the heads up, and glad to know the ship’s leaving soon.” The captain nodded in agreement to the last sentiment, as the doors to the lift opened, revealing the ready deck, which was supposed to be kept clear for troops and equipment for planetary landings, but which was currently packed to the brim with shipping containers full of napalm and canned fruit. The pair made their way through the labyrinth to the airlock connecting the Crazy Train to the dock, Kiref taking note of the lack of any dropships within the hangar.
“Captain, has there been any word on when we will be taking on any landing vessels, and of what type they may be? I was hoping to run disembarkation drills with the landing party.”
“Some new Nevok design they don’t want to be sending the schematics over long range broadcast, probably a good idea given how poor the cybersecurity on those old Fed transmitters is.” The captain replied, with a chuckle at the last part. “You should have at least some time to train on the way to the rest of the fleet. I understand you had planned on using the ready deck to train for surface combat, but since that isn’t an option, I’ll set aside the living quarters and sickbay for the freed prisoners as a simulation for boarding actions.”
Kiref swung his tail in a gesture of appreciation. “I thank you for your consideration sir. I will make sure my men will be capable of securing any ship in the Dominion or Federation within less than a half an hour after boarding.”
Stepping through the airlock, the pair walked onto the dock, which was as large as a highway, and populated sparsely by crewmen loading the last few containers and a squad of marines who snapped to attention as the two officers walked passed. Sticking out like a sore thumb among all the sailors were three of the baldest looking Venlil either man had ever seen seated in benches a little way down the dock, flanked by four uncomfortable looking guards in UNMP uniforms. Upon seeing the alien’s strange haircuts, Kiref glanced quizzically at his commanding officer, who just muttered “exterminators” in response, causing Kiref to roll his eyes. The exterminators were wearing hand (or paw) cuffs clearly designed for someone much larger than them, and The lead exterminator, judging by the insignia pinned to his fire-resistant uniform, glared at Kiref with a look that betrayed not so much fear as anger and disgust.
As Captain Krenshaw began signing over custody of the prisoners, the lead exterminator let out a yell. “Hey human! You know you got a monster in your crew?” The captain put down his pen and turned to face the Venlil, a terrifying look in his eye that made the other two Venlil back down. The leader carried on, oblivious “We could take care of it for you! That thing’s a danger to anybody on board, at least get your chief of security to confine it to a cell!”
Lieutenant Kiref snapped his eyes over to the Venlil, and unsheathed his claws, causing the exterminator to take an involuntary step back. “I’m sorry prisoner,” said the Arxur, his every syllable dripping with venom “I didn’t quite hear you, would you care to repeat that?”
The captain jumped between the two aliens. “THAT’S ENOUGH!”
“Look, human, that thing-”
“I SAID ENOUGH. For future reference, his name is Lieutenant Kiref, not ‘it,’ mine is Captain Krenshaw, not ‘human,’ and as commander of my ship’s marine detachment, he is the security chief. You are under his charge for the duration of our voyage, so I suggest you treat him with the respect he is due.” The captain turned to the Lieutenant. “Take these war criminals to the brig. You know the handbook on prisoner transport inside and out, I trust you will have no problem keeping them confined?”
“None whatsoever” said Kiref, grinning at the now cowering Venlil. He motioned for two marines who were coming back from the interior of the shipyard, and the three of them escorted the cuffed Venlil into the bowels of the ship.
The captain sighed and turned back to the four military police officers, and finished filling out the clipboard before handing it back to the officer who had given it to him.
“Safe travels, captain, and good luck” The man said.
“Thanks, we’ll definitely need it.” Captain Krenshaw turned and began calling over his radio to the crew, “Alright, seal all airlocks, disconnect all umbilicals and prepare to release docking clamps, we will be underway within the hour.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ship wasn’t under way for very long.
The UNS Crazy Train exited hyperdrive about four lightyears from the edge of the Sol system, just over a day and a half after departure in a patch of seemingly uninteresting space. Captain Krenshaw ran onto the bridge, disheveled but attempting to put on a professional face, buttoning the last button on his jacket. “What’s the status?” This was a charted area of space, if there had been an asteroid or large space rock,it should have been marked on the map, and the only other plausible option was an enemy fleet, which seemed absent.
Commander Wilson turned at his entrance, vacating the command chair “We’re not sure what it is, the automated navigator detected an absurdly large object in our path, but only picked it up at the last second, and was able to break us out of FTL within just forty klicks of the object. Scanner Officer Casey is investigating now, but we haven’t seen anything since going sunlight.”
The captain took a seat and looked over at the sensor station. “Any ideas yet Caysey?” Officer Casey was by far both the youngest and least experienced member of the Crazy Train’s bridge crew, but Krenshaw was somewhat concerned with the Dossur’s ability to perform his duties under stress. He had been diagnosed with “predator disease” which manifested as an extreme lack of fear response, which meant that he was capable of exchanging small talk over lunch with Kiref for three whole minutes before fainting. Krenshaw had been assured multiple times that the diminutive officer would be just fine in performing his duties as long as the enemies stayed on the other side of a screen, and the Dossur’s natural extremely fast reflexes proved Caysey was adept at identifying and distinguishing targets, so the captain was hopeful, if a bit cautious.
Caysey looked up from his screen, his field of view severely limited by his blinders. “Captain, the only thing that could have blipped into and immediately out of sensor range that fast was another ship passing dangerously close without announcing it’s heading, headed inbound for Earth.”
“An invasion fleet perhaps? Should we turn around?”
“I don’t think so, It would have skipped in front of us for a fraction of a second. The object was detected for over a second, at the speeds we’re talking about, in order to do that the ship would have to be literally light-seconds long, and wide too given the distance this thing seems to stretch on to the sides” The scanner officer looked back to his panel and took several deep breaths before continuing. “I think sensor error is the more likely option. Possibly also some sort of energy field orbiting a local sun at superluminal speeds, but that’s not supported by any scientific theories I know of,” Caysey hastily added.
“I think we’ll avoid examination of theoretical physics for now, drop a beacon and we’ll see if anyone wants to send out a science ship later, helm, continue at sunlight speeds until we clear this field.” The captain said, relaxing a bit. We were needed at the front weeks ago, every day we aren’t there, more people die in Arxur farms.
The ship slowly trundled forwards at sunlight speeds for a few minutes, all eyes were looking at their instruments. The bow punched into the zone, the bridge crew collectively taking deep breaths.
“We should be clear in twenty seconds” Wilson called out.
The whole ship was in the space where the disturbance had been now.
“Fifteen seconds…”
No objects on scanners within the collision warning perimeter
“Ten seconds…”
The bow had reached the far side.
“Five…”
With one and a half seconds to go, Caysey yelled out “WAIT-” but it was too late. Within half a second the entirety of the UNS Crazy Train was engulfed in a bizarre energy field. The standard lighting on the bridge cut out and the emergency bulbs burst from the power surge, plunging the ship into total darkness. The ship rocked violently as the engines gimbaled in random directions. Faster than even the Dossur could react, every electrical system on the ship was flooded with power levels dozens of times higher than what they had been designed to handle. The helmsman screamed as his hands were electrified by the absurd amperage traveling through the ship’s wheel. The ship's reactors tripped, dropping the control rods within another half second, triggering warnings on every panel on the engineering decks.
Within another second the energy had passed, leaving the Crazy Train drifting lifeless in deep space. The turbines slowly winding down triggered the emergency batteries to connect to the ships power, keeping the remaining systems functional, for now. The backup computer activated, rerouting power through backup conduits wherever possible, and developing a list of what needed to be replaced.
Captain Krenshaw was the first to get to his feet. “Is anyone injured?”
“Helmsman Jones' hands are burned pretty badly, should I escort him to sickbay?” said Commander Wilson, helping the injured man to his feet.
“Please do, then help Dr. Mulvan get a triage going.” The captain replied. “Is there anything on scanners, Caysey?
“No s-sir” panted Caysey slowly getting to his fleet. “I should be able to check the beacon we dropped just before we entered the field.” The Dossur was quiet for several seconds. “Sir our comms and scanners may be more damaged than the computer says, I can’t even establish that the beacon is there. Should I launch another?”
“If we have that functionality, then do so. It seems your superluminal energy field hypothesis may have some merit after all” replied the captain, still a bit shaken.
Caysey punched a few buttons before frowning. “The next beacon is launched, and it’s meeting all expected readings. It’s like the other probe just disappeared.”
Krenshaw didn’t give it much thought, contacting engineering to see when the situation on damage control was. The damage turned out to have been mostly superficial or to redundant components, mainly to lighting systems and some CIWS targeting systems. All things that could be replaced in-flight or swapped out quickly at the next port. The only crucial component the ship was missing was the long range communications array, leading to the captain's decision to continue on towards Venlil Prime. At least they have an approach vector lined up for us, we would be cruising into extremely heavy traffic with no comms and dodgy sensors if we head back to Earth. So much for a peaceful maiden voyage, although at least it’s not the worst thing that could have happened...

Thanks for reading, it means a lot! Again, thanks to SpacePaladin15 as well! Hope to see y'all next time on Gunboat Diplomacy!
(also did anybody else know disembarkation was the proper word? I just kinda assumed it was disembarkment until google and spellcheck corrected me)

Before i start my very large rant, I would just like to say, I love my parents and am grateful for everything they have done for me HOWEVER, I just can’t seem to add up the remnants of my past 18 years. Okay, so where do I begin ? I’m 19 this year and I don’t think I can handle the constant loop of unproductive days followed by waiting for what seems to be FOREVER to go to bed to avoid everything. I was a bright kid who talked using dramatic gestures and the people loved me. I’m not sure what happened but I then became this extremely shy kid who had major separation anxiety/social anxiety. I cried during my first year of school and cried for many more years. I loathed the idea of being around other kids and demanding teachers for 7 hours and I never woke up without trying to find a way to call in sick until i was in 10th grade. I’m lonely, I feel sad and jealous seeing others at the shops. Eventually, I feel as though I’ve transcended into a void. I feel numb. Growing up, I had friends, some that left quickly others that were my friends for many years. I always felt left out . My parents are religious but aren’t strict upon it to a large extent. They did, however, use religion to deprive me of what would have made many childhood experiences and memories. I was allowed to go out with friends, maybe twice in my life without supervision , the other four with my parents being there. I begged for a phone and got one in high school but wasn’t allowed to message or call any of my friends ( I lived near my school, so the phone wasn’t really of any use ). My life consisted of going to school, then back home. Any outings had to be with family. I never face timed , or went to houses. I never watched any popular shows or movies because any show/movie that involved human actors was deemed inappropriate by my mother so I was never able to relate with any of my friends. My friends often told me that I probably didn’t consider them as friends since I “never wanted to hang out”. In reality, I didn’t want to make my parents look bad and simply told my friends that I didn’t have time to go to their plans. My 14 year old sister stays in her room all day with the door closed, when I until now have someone barge in on me. I always told to get out of my room and be with family so I basically lived in the living room. Remember the COVID-19 lockdown? I did all my zoom meetings in the living room when I had a perfectly spacious room. My father told me that he liked this new house better because everyone is together. No double storeys to keep people separated and the rooms are all near each other. After graduating high school, I thought I would become a more improved version of myself in uni ( college, whatever you want to call it ) but boy was I gullible. I got my learners license 3 years ago but I don’t have my license because : 1- Anxiety 2- I saw no point in having one. It’s not like I was going places. I made all my classes online except for one day on campus. Despite all of my parent’s friends asking why I didn’t take the bus or train, whenever I brought up their comments, my parents would answer for me. “ Oh but you’ll be scared since you’ve never used public transport. You’ll be so lost or even miss your train!” True but I’m not scared. So my mum offered to drive me there. Getting ready, she’d tell me not to wear baggy clothes because it didn’t look nice. She’d also comment on how certain things made me look like a ball ( thanks to that extra 15kgs lockdown gave me ). Then she’d tell me to wear something different in case people notice that my pants were the same as last time. Then, she’d ask why I used my own shade of foundation, I needed a lighter one because fair skin looks nicer than tanned. She’d finally end up wearing something that looks like all her other black coloured clothing and we’d drive off.Around 40 minutes away, she decides to stay at uni since there’s no point in driving all the way back. I definitely didn’t enjoy it when she walked with me all the way to my class on the first day. Or when I have to walk back to the units coffee shop to meet my mum and walk back to the car together. Don’t get me wrong, its lovely spending time with parents but being privileged plus being heavily dependent on your parents gives other the impression that you’re an ignorant and spoilt snob. Or you’d get made fun of for not knowing how the outside world works. She makes sure to emphasise how she never has time because she always has to take the kids to school and take me to uni. Anyways, then I’d go back home, try to study with all the noise, end up wasting my entire day making empty promises to myself and have nothing done. Then at around 10-11pm, mum would announce that she’s tired and when she’s tired, we have to give her all of our electronics ( phone, iPad, laptop, switch, everything ). Then I’d have to wait until she waked up in the morning until I get my things back and thankfully she charged the phone but oh god she forgot the iPad this time, looks like lectures will have to be watched later. Nowadays, she tells me that I can keep my IPad /laptop with me until late so that I can study. I refuse each time. Why? I don’t enjoy pity. So now I sit here, not doing my skincare, not happy with my weight, no motivation to study, not bothered to complete simple tasks such as making my own bed, not going out with friends despite my parents getting mad and telling me that they aren’t stopping me from doing so. Well, surprise surprise, I’m pretty sure that none of my friends message me anymore since I never put in the time for them. Now, I watch my 14 year old sister FaceTiming and messaging all her friends. I look back and see my 9 year old sister FaceTiming her friends on her iPad, playing Roblox together. It’s messing me up and I sure as heck am jealous. My parents do love me but all of this pointing out my flaws, treating me like a child, not allowing me to be able to grasp a single fragment of a childhood memory really has turned me into this miserable, anger consumed person. I need to learn to suppress certain feelings while emphasising others. E.g. I could be so emotionally driven, anything would make me cry ( children’s movie, celebrities being cheered at, etc ) but I also can’t tell the difference between nervousness and anxiety. When I see my mother or sister cry, I feel awkward, sometimes annoyed. I’m not moved yet I remember what I need to do in steps and I only take action out of guilt so step one, see if they need to be alone, step two coax them, step three move in for a hug and so on. SO so sorry for this rant, was never given psychological help so I’ve kept most of my problems to myself. This would only accumulate to a quarter of my issues. Any advice is greatly appreciated !
P.s - I can’t move out ( religious reasons ) and I’ve never ignored my parents as it would make them fume with rage so I can’t do either of the two.

My final project for my class on alternative energy systems gave me the notion to construct a solar panel by myself. The original concept was to construct a solar panel that would power an electric bike's batteries, however there were several setbacks. The greatest was that the number of solar cells bought was greater than the quantity of power required to charge the batteries. As a result, the project evolved into a learning experience with some challenges and, of course, answers that eventually produced a solar panel that can provide enough energy to recharge a smaller battery or a gadget. From calculating the supplies and tools I would need to obtain fairly priced solar cells to understanding the mechanics of appropriate wiring, this project was a tremendous learning experience on all fronts. I want my project to show the procedures I took to construct the solar panel and generate electricity.
https://usasolrsystem.com/2023/03/18/diy-solar-panels/

Hi everyone
I have some experience of mixing and mastering and is getting back into it again after some years. I have started learning mixing/mastering in Dolby Atmos/Spatial audio and need songs to work with. So I am looking for bands/artists that are interested in getting a Dolby Atmos mix for free in exchange for letting me work on your track. I don’t want to charge people unless I feel that I can deliver 100 % without having to revise the song a hundred times, but I need stuff to practice on. Any genre is interesting. You can keep the track and do whatever you want with it if you’re satisfied with the end result. DM me if it sounds interesting.

So I am currently on Vacation and just fried (half of) my cameras battery charger due to probably what I can faintly remember being an oversight in the USB-PD protocol and I would like to find out if my theory is correct. I go into a bit of USB-PD details so I hope its fitting for this sub.
So my Camera takes 2s Lipos and the charger has inputs for Micro-B, C and an USB-A plug. I assume that it just takes any 5V from anywhere and balance charges that 2S Battery.
Now onto what happened. Since I am on vacation I only have one charger with me which supports USB-PD for 45W = 15V 3A charging of my Phone and Steam Deck which is the highest both support. Since I needed to charge my phone and camera battery I plugged in the phone first and charged it, after it was done I simply unplugged the USB-C cable from my phone and left the rest plugged in. Half an hour later I realized I forgot to plug the camera battery charger in so I took the USB-C cable thst previously charged my phone at 15V and plugged it into the Camera Charger and something inside immediately burned and the smell of magic smoke filled the room.
I thought that the entire thing was done for now but it seems that only both female plugs are unusable, so the Micro-B and USB-C, however I can still use the entire thing over its male USB-A cable plugged into some random outlet in the hotel just fine, although it gets so hot the LCD is turning full black, though it still charges the battery. The USB-PD charger also works just fine with my phone after completely unplugging it from the wall.
So now my actual question: Since I cant open the thing I cant look at what exactly burned and how the inputs are connected to the actual charger. It fried as if it received overvoltage, so does the USB-PD charger or the protocol in general hold its Voltage even with the Sink device unplugged and it was "still at 15V" when I plugged in the camera charger? I would assume the camera charger is just a dumb "5V from whatever plug" device. Would unplugging the phone and then plugging the cable into a dumb USB-C port always provide that with the last requested voltage? Shouldnt the USB-PD device rather immediately go back to 5V, at least with a rather short timeout?
The Camera Charger is an INCA CD-SD016, PD Device is a Samsung EP-T4510

I'm curious what strategies people are using to maximize the life and minimize capacity losses for their batteries. The response I got from Rivian customer service was "ABC, always be charging." Keep charging to 70% as much as possible and minimize time at higher ends of the battery.
My concern is cycle charging. I never got a clear answer whether it's better to charge back to 70% each day to keep near the same SOC or whether it's best to use the battery a reasonable amount, say something like to 30% SOC and then charge back to 70%. My understanding of battery technology is that they will degrade over so many cycles, so my thinking is that I don't want to charge every day to minimize the cycle charging. Is that not a thing if it stays below 70%? Any informed EEs or longtime EV owners out there have any insights?
Much appreciated!

Hi guys, I'm playing an articer battlesmith in my campaign and my DM allowed me to create from zero some magical weapons and items. We already done the BONKER a magical maul that grows stronger on level and can at level 14 can banish a creature to the "HORNIEST JAIL". Now I'm thinking about making another improvement for the maul inspired by gravity ash of war in elden ring and another one for my pistol/rifle. I can switch between the two mode by a bonus action and gravity improvement scale with levels too. Lvl 6: As a bonus action you slam your weapon in the ground and gravitational magic centered on it gather dirt and stones on your weapon increasing his damage by your INT modifier for 1 min. As an action you can end the buff and hurling your weapon; you can force your enemies in a 15ft cone to do a DEX saving throw. They take 2d6+ int damage or half as much if they succed OR target one enemy in 15ft range and making him do a CON saving throw taking 2d6 damage and having is speed reduced to 0 until his next turn. LVL 12: You slam again your weapon in the ground this time causing every creature in a 15ft radius to do a dex saving throw, taking 4d6+int force damage pushing them 5 ft towards you and being knocked prone or half as much on succes without being prone. Lvl 16: When you hit an enemy with a melee weapon attack you can transfer the center of gravity on him if he fail and INT saving throw. Every turn him and every creature in 5ft from him take 1d6+int force damage and reducing their speed by an ampunt of feet equal to the damage. you can end the effect early making the gravitational well explode doing 6d6 force damage to the creature and every other creature in 15 ft of the creature that doesn't succed a dex saving throw and having his speed reduced his speed by half the damage. Every effect requires a charge and i have a number of charge equal to Int+1 and i regain all the charges after a long rest. What do you think? Thx guys

A few days ago, my Win Max 2's battery died all of a sudden and it doesn't retain charge for more than ten minutes. I contacted GPD through email several times on [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected]) but got no reply. It's also my work laptop and I have to use it plugged in like a desktop to get my work done. What should I do now? I haven't even discharged battery more than dozen times and haven't even played games on it that much. Moreover, I have always set the tdp below 12 watts, even during gaming, but the battery still died. It's really disappointing, no matter how much carefully you use GPD device, they still die without any reason.

I don't have any off street parking so park on the street. Is it feasible to have an electric vehicle in this situation? I have seen in the Borough of Richmond upon Thames that they have lampposts with charging points in them but not sure if my borough have these.

whats the best way to put a solar panel into my 12v Setup. My secondary battery currently chargers from a dc to dc charger but wanted to add a solar panel for when i will be camping and using the battery without having to run the engine. Is there an automatic isolator that would switch from the dc to dc charger to the solar panel. Or can I just connect the solar panel to the controller and then battery without an isolator in between.