Laser beam loli gif

I came across a cheap off-brand green laser on Ebay that measures about 140mw. Not the brightest of most powerful, but the beam looks like a strand of fishing line, and the dot is super small.
I would like to find a brighter one with similar characteristics. Thanks!

I have a new 130w unbranded Chinese laser. It is running a Ruida RDC6442S controller. The mirrors and head are upgraded and very well aligned. I'm running the stock crappy air compressor. I know the beam is not hitting the cone either. I did a test to determine this. I have a very nice tight beam and did a ramp test to determine the lens best height.
I'm trying to cut 1/2" Baltic birch. I thought it should be able to cut through, but it's not getting the last 32nd of an inch in some places. Other areas will cut through. And if I run it a second time it does not help.
Cutting setting are 4mm/s at 90% power. It's a 2.5" FP lens.
I'm almost positive it's me screwing something up. I just need to know what and how to correct it.

Hey, I'm running a game that has subtle sci fi story elements that are meant to be right in front of the players' noses, but never obvious. It's been really fun with delightful "aha!" moments.
Here are some I've locked in already. Anybody have some other ideas? Maybe something you've encountered in a book or used in your own campaign?

• Stories of how the Elves came to the mortal world by building a tower from their sky to the mortal sky, which broke in half in the middle. This explains the strange metal tower in the Elven capital. [It's their spaceship]
• Some ancient Elven bloodlines have very strange features like third eyes and bifurcated ears
• Magical items that are activated by lightning
• Palace Guards armed with rods of Modified Ray of Scorching (1 beam only), clubs, and transparent shields [laserguns, batons, and riot shields]
• Time travel lite. The players go through a magic door and do some stuff. Later, they encounter ancient legends about them doing whatever they did
• The afterlife being described as being on the sun or moon. Likewise, Aberrations are from "the dark side of the sun and moon"
• Playing fast and loose with definitions: sailors voyaging to the distant spheres, calling the moon an island now and then, mentioning that you can sometimes see other planes if you squint at the sky at night
• Ancient paintings where the sun is a very bright yellow [a younger sun]
• Mirrorfire (lasers)

I've got about 30 hours in the game. I've made it to the Last Stand about 10 times now, in the Kestel, Engi cruiser, and the Zoltan Cruiser, all layout A.
I've only managed to beat Phase 1 once, in a pretty heavily upgraded Zoltan cruiser. I beat the initial round with about 1/3rd of my HP left, and was pretty pissed when I saw the Flagship jump away with 0% of its health left. When I got to phase 2 I was in pretty rough shape and the swarms of drones was too much to handle combined with the fires and boarding drones.
I had the Halberd Beam, Heavy Laser 1, and Burst Laser II. Shields were at level 2, engines at 5 power, and I had good crew on Engine, Helm, Weapons, and Shield. I was using my lasers to knock the shields down, then using the beam to hit the shield, helm, and missile.
Would the cloak really help? I never have enough scrap for it because I'm constantly running out of fuel. Just wondering if you all had any pointers!

What's this, a weapon tier-list more than a decade after the game is published?
Yes.
I have Dead Space on the brain and I misspent many hours of my young adulthood on this game, so please suffer through my autism rant. My truth yearns to be told. I've stress-tested solo runs of every weapon back in the day and ran them through the Transit Hub fight as a testing ground to learn all the mechanics. And it needs escape after being penned-up for a decade. I love this franchise.
What's surprising about Dead Space 2 is that most of the guns are actually viable and fun. So even guns lower down on the list can comfortably beat the game if you know what you're doing. And there are very few actual truly bad weapons.
That said, here we go:
#1 Pulse Rifle (S-tier)
Best gun in Dead Space 2. Blasphemy. I know, I know, I love Plasma Cutter as much as the next guy, but after many many many playthroughs in Hardcore and Zealot, I have to narrowly award this the best gun.
Plasma Cutter is almost as good as the Pulse Rifle, but Pulse Rifle has a grenade launcher. So it has a built-in panic button that can just delete Necromorphs in a hurry. And like the cutter, has infinite range, fast reload, good damage and ammo capacity.
With the Cutter, I just leave it on horizontal cutting 100% of the time and never interact with the alternate fire mode. So the simple fact that there is a nuclear option on the Rifle puts it over.
You can animation cancel the Pulse Rifle to interrupt the burst to only fire one bullet. You do this by starting the firing animation then dropping the ADS midway. So you can always get pinpoint precise one-bullet shots doing this.
It's a bit hard to pull off under stress, but it's a great way of saving ammo if you have time to pick shots or just don't want to waste ammo on smaller and weaker targets. (The children Necros, for example.)
#2 Plasma Cutter (S-tier)
This needs no explanation. Plasma Cutter is the gold standard by which the other guns in this game are measured by. You can solo the entire game with this weapon and it's entirely self-sufficient and versatile in every situation.
While Plasma Cutter doesn't have a real "alt fire" mode, Stasis more than makes up for it. So that's not a real problem. And even so, it's an excellent gun if you position correctly. You don't really need "shotgun" support because the Cutter really is just that strong on its own.
#2 Javelin Gun (S-Tier)
The Javelin is just straight-up the superior version of the Seeker Rifle in every way. There's no tunnel-vision from scoping. It has pinpoint accuracy, high damage and high rate of fire. You can just kill Necromorphs by double-tapping Necromorphs in the chest. Weaker types just die in one-hit when fully upgraded. Also, it's ammo is stupidly cheap.
On top of that, its alt-fire mode electrifies the last javelin you fired and then detonates it. So it's also an AOE explosive. You can also animation-cancel javelins to get them to detonate prematurely by firing another spear off.
Basically: This gun is just about spamming death spears without caring about cutting off the limbs mechanic. If one spear doesn't kill it, then two or three will. Who cares? High ROF and cheap ammo. If you somehow have terrible aim, don't worry, just buy more.
The only reason it isn't higher on this list is because it has a low magazine capacity and its just a bit awkward to deal with swarm enemies. But it's still an S-tier gun. It's entirely self-sufficient and can deal with any situation in the game.
#3 Force Gun (A-Tier)
I'm dropping this gun down to A-Tier for a couple reasons.
First, it's not entirely self-sufficient. There are a few cutscene events where this gun will not do any damage. So you're forced to complement it with other weapons as companions to get through those parts.
Second, it has inferior range to every gun in S-tier. It's still very good range. It just isn't theoretically infinite.
But all that aside, it's a very comfy space shotgun. The primary fire zones enemies in your face and the secondary fire is a large blast that goes up to a good distance and does good amounts of damage. It's very forgiving and bypasses the need to aim at specific limbs. Counterintuitively, the primary fire is the utility while the secondary is the actual damage.
There is a bit of a charge delay to fire off the secondary, but I haven't found this to be a real drawback in actual stress-testing in gameplay. It's an easy weapon use to get excellent results.
#4 Flamethrower (A-Tier)
Yes. Flamethrower is a weapon players have been sleeping on. Yes it's better than everything lower on the list. Mald. Like the Force Gun, this weapon excels in medium to close ranges.
And by medium range, it's further than you think. The mistake most players (and myself) have made is that you underestimate its reach. It goes out a good distance so you need to fire a little early.
It like the Force Gun and Javelin gun doesn't care about aim. Just wash it over everything in reach and you will stunlock everything to death in a pretty short amount of time, even in Zealot. It's very good at zoning and controlling everything in reach. It has high capacity so you don't feel it's "wasted" on weaker enemies.
The alt-fire also throws a fire bomb canister as an AOE explosive. And it will pretty much one-shot most enemies. That said, it's strictly just a worse version of the the Pulse Rifle grenade because it doesn't detonate on impact, bounces for a bit and is a bit slow to fire and reload. Still, it's nice that you have the option.
Another downside is that it's not self-sufficient in all cut-scenes so you will have to companion it some of the time.
#5 Seeker Rifle (B-Tier)
This gun is extremely fun to use, but has a high skill ceiling to get the same results as better guns. You have to just completely change your playstyle altogether to solo-run the entire game with this.
It's good in all situations theoretically, but really really hard to master. It has a medium rate of fire, low magazine cap and high damage. You can just body shot enemies to death because it does so much damage. The ROF is just low enough that you really can't make too many mistakes.
I've figured my way around this by just keeping the Seeker Rfile on full-magnification. I only pull up ADS when I'm ready to acquire a target rather than tunnel-visioning at all times. It's definitely a weird mentality to approach the game, but it taught me to start doing that on other guns since it's easier to maintain peripheral vision if you're not hard-scoped all the time.
#6 Line Gun (B-Tier)
It's just a worse Plasma Cutter.
Sorry, I want to like it, but I don't. It's theoretically self-sufficient in all situations, but its rate-of-fire is painfully slow and its alternate timed explosive is extremely awkward and slow to place. On paper, it sounds like a great weapon, but the details of its implementation suck.
It has a higher skill ceiling for worse results than any other gun above this one. There are a lot of situations where Necromorphs slip in between the pacing of my shots. And that's no accident. Every gun above this one can basically just stagger stunlock enemies with a high rate-of-fire, then follow up the stuns with more precise killing shots at a low investment in time/cost.
You cannot miss with the Line Gun. You have to be perfect to never take damage. And its high damage and forgiving width doesn't justify how clunky it is overall. It's a good gun held back by a few major flaws.
Keep in mind, I just listed two guns that are pretty much AOE weapons and are braindead to the point of never needing to aim. And here? You have a slow gun you have to aim. And on top of all that, those other guns just have better alternate fire modes.
The more precise guns higher up on this list don't need to be precise all the time. You can just hammer the chest of a Necromorph to stunlock it then slowly creep your shots over to a killing shot. Just that barrage of shots will kill faster than you think.
#4 Ripper (C-Tier)
So take all the complaints I had so far and apply it to this gun.
The primary fire only zones a tiny space in front of you. The Flamethrower and Force Gun far outclass it here. It also has a very low damage over time effect and you can lose the sawblade if you're hit by an enemy.
So yeah, you lose your defensive zoning if you're hit. The number of times I've had an enemy just jump past my sawblade to hit me is too numerous to count. This is not an issue with the other short-range guns.
It's alt fire is theoretically mid-ranged projectile. Just inferior in every way to every other gun above this one. Line Gun sweeps a larger area without any projectile drop off. Javelin has high ROF, pinpoint accuracy and raw damage. Flamethrower just blankets a cone that you can sweep back and forth while stunlocking anything caught by it. Force Gun has better AOE hitscan coverage.
This gun is the most overrated gun in the Dead Space fandom. It's a fun gun but it's just a security blanket for bad players. A crutch. I almost want to put it lower on the list out of spite, but it's technically viable without wanting to pull out all your teeth.
Oh and it's not self-sufficient because it won't work in all cutscenes. Just to add insult to injury.
#5 Contact Beam (D-Tier)
It's just a worse version of the Seeker Rifle and Javelin.
Yes it one shots enemies. But has a longer charge time than the Force Gun, which does pretty close to the same damage in most situations. The difference is the Force Gun barely needs to be aimed.
Seeker Rifle can basically pop off two shots in the same time. Javelin could hurl out 2-3. The Pulse Rifle probably can just more cost-efficiently spam grenades at everything.
Its alternate fire is just garbage. Again it one-shots in an AOE, but who cares? It locks you into the animation to execute and you will and can take damage during it. Stasis is just better in most situations.
Oh and all the ammo is expensive. There's just no point to this gun. Spamming Javelins is way cheaper and does more damage.
Yes, I know I angered the Contact Beam fanboys. I don't care. Your gun is slow and tacky and you're bad at the game. The Seeker Rifle has its faults, but it forces me to play the game like a Zen archer. The same can't be said about the Contact Beam.
#6 Rivet Gun (F-Tier)
This is the DLC weapon. Again, fun for meme runs, but it's just a bad gun. It has a high rate-of-fire and high capacity but somehow does less damage and is less forgiving than the Ripper or Plasma Cutter. It's like the worst combination of every weapon.
The alternate-fire mode is wonky and inconsistent with its physics. Basically it explodes all the nails you've already shot into an enemy, but even this doesn't guarantee a kill. While other alternate fire modes just don't need all this set-up to instantly delete enemies.
#7 Detonator (Worst Gun)
Okay, in fairness this gun isn't supposed to be a primary weapon. I think its intent is to be this minelayer gun that you can use to prep the battlefield.
It's just bad at that too.
The Detonator basically sets lasers in a line. It fires projectiles if anything trips those lasers. Also I think it explodes? It's been awhile since I played the game, much less used this weapon. I just remember hating it.
It will explode if you manage to hit it perfectly on an enemy. But if you miss it'll just latch onto wherever it lands.
So you can't theoretically use it as a direct fire weapon. But it's hitbox is small and you'll miss a lot. And it won't guarantee a kill even if you do land the shot.
As a trap, it just isn't practical. You could spend the entire game mining every vent. But this is boring and unfun. Not every vent will spawn an enemy. And even if it does, the lasers are so precise and finicky that you can't guarantee that an enemy will trip it, let alone die instantly from tripping one.
You'll have to metagame to even use the weapon properly and it'll still suck.

AO3 Link
13 AS:
Tails Adventure:
Once again going on his own adventure, Tails arrives at Cocoa Island, helping out the residents, building more machines and gadgets, and generally relaxing a little. But suddenly, an army of imperial birds called the Great Battle Kukku invade the island for unknown reasons, and start causing chaos.
Determined to stop them, and with plenty more gadgets to use, Tails sets off to stop the army, help the locals, and save the island from any more destruction. Throughout his journey, the young fox encounters Battle Kukku XVI (Also known as Speedy), where the two often compete in speed and gadgets. Only for the latter to get frustrated at being beaten by some young mutant fox.
Eventually, Tails reaches their Battle Fortress, bringing the fight right to their leader, Great Battle Kukku XV, and their mechanical mastermind, Dr. Fukurokov. That’s when the young fox finds out why they’re here. After learning about Tails’ incredible gadgets and intellect, they wanted to kidnap and use him in their quest for world domination.
Obviously, the young fox doesn’t take kindly to this, and promptly defeats them, along with Speedy, and sends their warship crashing down into the ocean, alongside much of the army. And after repairing the damages done to Cocoa Island, the day is saved, and while Tails feels a bit guilty about bringing such danger to these people, they reassure him and let him know he’s been an incredible help to them. A true hero.
Happy to hear their kind words, Tails hangs around Cocoa Island a little longer, building some defense mechanisms and machines to make sure nothing bad happens once he leaves. And after saying his farewells, the young fox heads off for another adventure…
​
Sonic Blast:
While Tails is off on his own adventure, Sonic is relaxing at South Island, with the white Chaos Emerald in his possession. But he’s then ambushed by Robotnik in another mech, alongside a small company of Badniks, who wants the blue blur’s gemstone. And despite some slight annoyance at being disturbed, the hedgehog accepts the doctor’s challenge.
However, during the scuffle, Sonic accidentally drops the Chaos Emerald, as he, Robotnik, and the Badniks start playing hot-potato with it. Eventually, the doctor loses his patience and attempts to shoot the hedgehog with a laser beam, while he’s trying to get the gemstone. Though, instead, he unintentionally hits the emerald, shattering it into a couple of pieces, and destroying all the Badniks, alongside pushing Sonic and Robotnik away.
Once he recovers from it, Robotnik manages to take the broken Chaos Emerald pieces, and heads to his new Silver Castle base, interested in seeing how this happened and if he can use it to his advantage. As for Sonic, he gets back up, and chases after the doctor, wanting to repair the gemstone and stop whatever plan he has in store.
As for Knuckles, the Master Emerald alerts him of the white Chaos Emerald breaking, which surprises him. And fearing what this means for the massive gemstone, along with the rest of the emeralds, the Echidna decides to go after Robotnik as well. Soon enough, he meets up with Sonic, and the two team up to stop the doctor again.
Once Robotnik gets to his Silver Castle, he studies the broken Chaos Emerald, and finds out that the laser beam cracked it due to the structural integrity of the gemstone being torn apart from the energy. And while the broken shards don’t seem like much, the doctor theorizes that they may contain even more power than before, now that the energy inside them has no limits anymore without being fully formed.
Eventually, Sonic and Knuckles reach the Silver Castle, and fight against Robotnik’s new mech, which is powered by the emerald shards. And despite it’s power being much greater than they expected, the combined teamwork of the two heroes sends the machine to the scrap heap, alongside the base.
So, with another plan down the drain, Robotnik decides to leave with his remaining forces, and Knuckles is able to figure out how to restore the broken Chaos Emerald to normal. With the day saved, the Echidna heads back to Angel Island, and Sonic leaves with the gemstone in search of another adventure…
​
Sonic 3D Blast:
Robotnik hears rumors about Flicky Island, where a unique race of colored Flickies reside. They are said to come from another dimension, and can create warp rings to enter it, or go to any part of the island. Thinking this could be useful in finding the Chaos Emeralds, the doctor goes to conquer the island with his forces.
Immediately, he starts turning the Flickies into Badniks, and studies their power in order to create his own warp portals. Some time later, however, Sonic and Tails arrive at Flicky Island after picking up something strange on the jewel radar. They learn the doctor’s up to no good again, and set out to stop him like always.
In particular, Sonic keeps Robotnik busy, while freeing all the Flickies from their Badnik shells, and Tails searches for the Chaos Emeralds on his own with some gadgets. Eventually, after exploring the different regions of the island, the two heroes arrive at Robotnik’s Panic Puppet base in order to end this madness.
But during their supposed final battle, Robotnik uses the energy he took from the Flickies to teleport to another dimension. Luckily, the Flickies create a warp ring to allow Sonic to chase after the doctor, Chaos Emeralds in tow. There, the REAL Final Fight begins, as the doctor uses his Final Weapon to attack the blue blur.
However, while it’s not an easy battle, Sonic is able to defeat Robotnik without ever having to go Super, and escapes the collapsing base with the help of the Flickies. The island is saved, and the doctor’s gone alongside his forces. Sonic asks the Flickies to send the Chaos Emeralds away as well, before departing with Tails…
​
Sonic R:
While leisurely enjoying the sights of a big city, Sonic and Tails see an interesting event advertised on a gigantic screen. The World Grand Prix, where the contestants compete in 5 different race tracks for a nice cash prize, and to show who’s the best racer. The young fox is interested in joining, but the blue blur isn’t, since races aren’t really a challenge for him.
Though, when they look up the current contestants, they find that Dr. Robotnik, Metal Sonic 2.0, Metal Knuckles, and Egg Robo are competing. Thinking this is probably another scheme of his, Sonic and Tails join immediately, along with Amy once she learns what’s going on, and Knuckles unexpectedly enters the fray, feeling that he might be needed here.
Naturally, Sonic is right in that Robotnik has something to gain from this World Grand Prix. He thinks the Chaos Emeralds are hidden in the race tracks, and decides to join in the race alongside his Metal series robots and Egg Robo, while also having Tails Doll as surveillance. Hence, everyone competes in some Super Sonic Racing.
As the races go on, the heroes and villains manage to get 3 Chaos Emeralds each. But the last one is hidden in a strange, colorful crystal island floating a little above the ocean, known as Radiant Emerald. The last Chaos Emerald and race is located there, so all the contestants give it everything they got to win.
In the end, Sonic and his friends get the last emerald, which leads Robotnik and his minions to attack them. But sadly for him, the doctor’s machines get wrecked, and he ends up retreating once again in a huff. Then, once they scatter the gemstones again, the heroes go their separate ways as the winners of the World Grand Prix…
​
Sonic The Hedgehog 4 (Episode 1):
Plenty of time has passed since Robotnik’s last scheme, and Sonic has decided to once again explore the world on his own. However, while relaxing at an island with familiar sights, the blue blur is attacked by some of the doctor’s old Badniks and machines, which means he has to get back into the action.
As for Robotnik, he’s initiating a grand project by sending some of his old machines and Badniks to keep Sonic busy, while he sets up his new Mad Gear Zone, and searches for something. Though, it’s not certain what the doctor is up to. But Sonic doesn’t care, as it’s probably something bad like always.
Hence, Sonic goes across the different areas of the island, smashing Badniks and taking Robotnik down whenever they encounter each other, before arriving at Mad Gear Zone. Then, after another scuffle, the doctor retreats to his E.G.G. Station in space, with the blue blur using a spare rocket device Tails gave him to follow.
On the space station, Sonic faces Robotnik in his new Death Egg Robot, which ends up causing major damage to their surroundings. So, once the doctor’s taken care of, the blue blur flees the exploding station, and heads back down to the island, successful in saving the day again…
Or did he REALLY save the day?
​
Sonic The Hedgehog 4 (Episode Metal):
Though Robotnik’s machines and space station have been destroyed by Sonic, he’s been successful in the first phase of his grand project. Making sure the blue blur doesn’t know about his real goal, and knowing where a certain artifact is on the island. But right now, his concern is a returning Little Planet…and with it…a returning machine…
​
Next Chapter
Archives
Unseen Adventures (Part 2)

July night ball: heat lingering in the Fenway bleachers after a day baking in the sun, lights twinkling, Verdugo on first, 2 outs, Yoshida with a 3-1 count. Will he swing?
The Yankees are in town, and chants erupt yet again to “F the Yankees!” For once, the chant matches up with the opponent. Masa takes a few practice sweeps, staring down Nestor Cortes. The pitcher comes set.
Judge dinks around in right, breathing out of his mouth and wondering if he’ll ever learn to tie his shoelaces. A cheer goes up behind him, ladies shrieking and men howling—Aaron’s used to the commotion.
He’s thinking about how much he likes having so many fans who are so nice to him when a BU bro in a Hernandez jersey leaps the fence, vaults onto Judge’s back, and sinks his teeth into his prey’s shoulder. He tears flesh with a wild, deranged look in his eye.
At the same time, around this park that has seen so much, bedlam erupts. Something surges through the crowd, like the Wave but more insidious in nature: a disease that causes the afflicted to become mindless undead fiends, thirsting for the blood of humans.
A Yankees fan leaps into the Yankees dugout and tackles Aaron Boone, from whom a geyser of blood erupts.
But as the scene unfolds, we quickly see the meaning of Boston Strong. Kiké does a series of flying handsprings towards an usher in a red polo, culminating in a headlock between his thighs and a snapped neck. Triston Casas pulls a handgun out of his bag and starts picking off the undead, a perfect shot. Dave O’Brien is bitten by Tim Wakefield; Youk grabs him by the shoulders and throws him out the open window of the broadcast booth, plummeting to the roiling crowd below. The cameras catch the 89-year-old grandmother with 30 grandkids all from Boston who delivered the opening pitch bite the face off tonight’s guest Fred Lynn behind home plate.
Chaim Bloom and David Ortiz vault from the box where they were eating caviar, plummeting to the seats below and executing perfect landings. They each grab the nearest zombie by the head and smash them together. Big Papi rips a seat from the concrete, and wades into the crowd, slamming gnashing heads with the business end of the seat and shouting “Here I come! I’m in the Hall of Fame!”
Devers grabs a bat in each hand, and begins whipping them in circles. Like two helicopter propellers, they whirl faster than the eye can see as Raffy steps towards the stands, eyeing the nearest zombie. Bat meets skull: base hit!
Justin Turner looks up from the tablet where he had been studying his last at bat, takes in the scene, and slowly steps up to the field. His forearms and shins lift upwards, before sliding smartly back, revealing metal and chrome and Kevlar panels beneath. From his right forearm emerges a giant laser blaster; from his left, a chandelier of long needles. His limbs extend, as he turns into a hulking machine of war. Chaim Bloom jumps onto his shoulder and shouts “Go!”
Turner marks the turning point in the assault, the moment it went from a zombie attack to a proper Red Sox rout. Too many hits to count as Turner levels the throngs of undead with laser beams. The bodies pile higher as Masa roundhouse kicks zombie after zombie. Devers hits a home run out of the park with the head of a hot dog vendor like a tee-ball at-bat.
Two and a half hours: longer than the game would have been with the pitch clock, all to clean up the mess and ferret out every last zombie. A sweep by the Sox. As the team regroups among the mounds of bodies, Cora looks each man in the eye in turn. “Looks like baseball season has just begun.”

TWBS Previous Next First
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---Esme’s perspective---
---Saturday, 11th of November, 2682 Terran Calendar---
---Southern England---
Fucking Sussex!
‘Can you send me to the Forth Valley?’
‘Oh, we can try… On an unrelated note, how’s your standard English? No problems in communicating?’
I should’ve just said ‘No, I have great difficulty in communicating in anything but Lallans Scots!’ instead of putting on my poshest English speech register to say ‘Marjorie dearest, would you be a lamb and pass another buttered scone… hold the raspberry jam, it’s far too spicy for me!’ which she told me she’d take as a ‘Yes.’
“This is an English language barracks. If you have been directed here in error, please make yourself known to barracks staff for reassignment.” plays a loud, prerecorded Welsh language announcement, over speakers.
They’re fucking rubbing it in!
“This is an English language barracks. If you have been directed here in error, please make yourself known to barracks staff for reassignment.” it repeats in Scots Gaelic.
“Ceci est une caserne Anglophone. Si vous avez été assigné ici par erreur, veuillez vous faire connaître auprès du personnel de la caserne pour une réaffectation.” it says in what I’m 90% sure is a French version of the same announcement (I can’t be certain, though, as that’s not one of my languages).
Looking at the crowds queuing to get in makes me regret asserting that I didn’t need transport here.
‘You shouldn’t be sending someone to War that you don’t trust to navigate themself from Galloway to Sussex!’ were my exact words.
I brushed off the recruitment officer saying that I’d be processed faster if I arrived on Military organised transport.
Well, standing here’s not gonna get me to the front of the queue now, is it!
I walk forward to join the massive throng of people, almost all of which look to be about my age.
It’s astonishing how short you feel, being an average height girl in a crowd of people!
178cm really isn’t all that much when you’ve got a not insignificant number of +2m guys here!
Even guys who are the average 188cm can make a girl feel short when their packed too close…
I see a few Neanderthal hunks… perhaps conscription won’t be all bad(!)
When I make it to the front of the line, the guy just stares expectantly at me like I’m supposed to already know what to do.
“Y’awright?… Err… mah nam’s Esme Reid…?” I say, hesitantly, in perfectly comprehensible speech.
“I’m sorry, would you repeat that?” he answers, looking at me like I just spoke to him in fucking Chinese!
“Greetings, gracious sir! You may kindly refer to me by the name ‘Esme Reid’!” I say, affecting my supercilious Southern English gentlewoman accent.
“Alright, Ms Reid. Please present your draft papers and identification.”
The balls they have to ask me to prove who I am when they’re the ones asking me to go off and fucking die for them!
I think about quipping that I should ask him to show me some proof that this is a legitimate Military installation sanctioned by the government of Sol… but think better of it…
Instead, I pull out my draft papers and my holopad, quickly getting up my identification app.
The man scans the code with his own holo and spends a few seconds glancing from his screen to my face and back.
Seeming satisfied that I’m not attempting to enlist under a false identity (for whatever strange reason a person might want to do that) he glances at my papers, says “Everything seems to be in order.” and waves a hand in front of a machine which whirs for half a second before spitting out a simple chain necklace with two little metal rectangles hanging off of it.
He hands it to me and says “This is your identification tag. Please check that the information on it is correct and, if it is, put it on and never take it off.”
I check the tag.
“You’ve got my name and birthday right…” I say, making a conscious effort to keep my speech register in that that a standard English speaker would consider acceptable “…don’t know about the regiment and serial number.”
“Those will be correct.” he says with a ‘move along’ tone.
I shrug, raise the dogtag over my head and drop it around my neck.
I walk on and he’s serving the girl behind me before I’ve even rounded the counter.
I’m ushered through the barracks, herded by the staff, until I reach a building labelled ‘Billet House 279’.
It doesn’t really look like I expected soldiers’ digs to look.
Definitely prefabbed but sort of has more the look of a uni hall than anything else… though I think it’s probably a bit much to expect that I’ll get a room to myself(!)
I follow the throng of draftees through to a wide open room, on the ground floor, that looks like it’s normally a cafeteria.
The camp attendants (who I’m guessing were in the same boat as us, not too long ago) direct us to stand along the left, right and nearside walls, keeping the back wall and centre of the room clear.
Everyone in place, there follows a few minutes of silence broken only by people whispering to one another.
Then, she enters the room.
Dark skinned and clad in green camo clothing, her scalp is easily visible between her cornrows with nary a hair out of place.
Her expression looks absolutely indifferent with just the slightest hint of a curled lip.
From the broadness and flatness of her facial features as well as her single mauve eye, she is clearly half Tshwane… though, you’d never guess that from her stature!
Female Tshwane average nearly 2m… the men are more like 2.2m!
She’s shorter than me!
She’s also built like a Sapiens, not the willowy thinness typical of Tshwane
I guess genetics interact in funny ways sometimes…
Based on her age, her Tshwane parent would probably have to have been one of the very first to be cloned back!
The other eye seems to have been ripped out at some point because in its place is a bionic and there’s a patch of hypopigmented scar tissue, forming a tear shape, at the right corner.
“Recruits… Welcome to the United Terran Coalition Infantry Trainin’ Camp, Graffham… My name is Warrant Officer Simone Sands… and I’ll be your drill instructor…” says the woman, cooly, speaking in a rough sounding, London accent.
The surname ‘Sands’ probably means her dad was the Tshwane (though not necessarily… she might have been given her mum’s surname… or it might be a coincidental English surname).
“…You all know why you’re here… Most of you’ve prob’ly already lost loved ones to this War… You are here to defend our right to exist… and I can’t think of a more worthy reason to fight than that…”
I’ve decided I like this woman… She may be English but I’ll try not to hold that against her(!)
“The first thing I need to tell all of you is that, by the end of your trainin’, you will NOT like me…” she says, as if reading my mind “…that’s OK. My job ain’t to be liked, my job ain’t to make friends… my job is to make soldiers!”
She casts her biological and bionic eyes around the room, letting her words hang in the air.
“Note… that I said ‘soldiers’… This ain’t Full Metal Jacket. This ain’t the 20th Century. There’ll be no Pvt Piles here!… I ain’t aimin’ to destroy your minds or your individuality. I ain’t goin’ to physic’ly and psychologic’ly abuse you into becomin’ robots or killers… I am makin’ you into soldiers… Regardless… this process will not be easy! In fact, it may well be the hardest thing you ever do!… As the face of this process, you will come to hate and resent me for it!… I hope for it! The more you hate me the more-DO YOU HAVE SOMETHIN’ TO SAY, PRIVATE?!”
Everyone in the room is startled by the authoritative woman breaking herself off to shout angrily at someone on the other side of the room.
“STEP FORWARD AND SPEAK SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR YOU!”
The boy that steps forward is tall, bulky and muscular with a handsome, half Neanderthal face… just my type!
Then he has to go and ruin it by opening his mouth.
“I was just saying… that I find it somewhat difficult to take you seriously as a commanding officer… You just seem a little bit… little.” says the boy in the poshest, smarmiest English drawl I’ve ever heard!
The woman does not shout, she does not scream, she doesn’t snarl or even purse her lips!
She just nods, as if considering his words, then asks “What’s your name, Soldier?”
“Rupert Forest.” responds the boy, proudly.
“And, how tall are you, Pvt Forest?” responds the woman, unimpressed
“195cm.” he answers.
“And, what’s your mass?” she asks.
“110kg.”
“I see, I see… So, by your logic… you’d make a better drill sergeant than me, would you? You’re 25cm taller and 35kg heavier, afterall!”
He smirks “I wouldn’t presume to say so, Ma’am…” in a way that definitely suggests that he thinks he would.
She seems to consider that for some moments before answering “Alright then, fight me for it!”
“I’m sorry…?” responds the poshboy.
“You heard me… Clearly, you got no respect for skill and experience but it seems like you must respect power… so fight me for it! You win, you get to train this lot, I win, you never question my authority again!”
Is this woman mad!?
She may be a soldier but this boy she just challenged is a half Neanderthal giant!
She’s gonna lose!
I do not want to be drilled by some snotty, privileged English brat who got here at the same time as I did and just couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut!
Then again, I don’t really want to be drilled by a woman so delusional that she felt the best way to squash insubordination was to challenge a man she has no hope of beating, either!
The guy is clearly salivating over the power that’s just been slapped on the table in front of him as he answers “I accept your terms, Ms Sands…” with faux magnanimity.
There’s no way they’d let a Private run drills, is there? When he wins, someone just needs to go and complain and they’ll give us another (less stupid) drill sergeant… right?
He strips off his jacket to reveal a pair of thick, muscular arms that (in spite of his repulsive personality) are a thrilling sight.
He has to go and ruin it by flexing and posing, clearly revelling in the room’s worth of gasps he got when he revealed his arms… He obviously likes being the centre of attention.
“Done?” asks Sands, drily.
“If you still want to do this…” he says, smugly “…you could just concede defeat and I’m sure no one would hold it against you!”
Her lip curls as she answers “But… if I did that, no one would learn nothin’, now would they…”
He shrugs before launching himself at her without waiting for her to give the word to begin.
She whirls out of the way and he snatches at her, unsuccessfully, as his momentum carries him past.
“Lesson 1:…” she shouts while snapping into the space behind him and kicking out his knee “…size does not determine victory, strength does not determine victory…” levelling another powerful kick between his shoulderblades to bring him to the ground.
She backs off, allowing him to scramble to his feet and turn to face her, hunched in readiness and scowling.
“…Pvt Forest here looked at me with contempt on account of my small size and, though he didn’t say so, I’d guess that my rough accent, my lack of a graduate epithet and my lack of a penis also played a roll in his judgin’ me as less than!… He thought he could beat me, he probably still DOES, and, ’causa that, he didn’t respect my ability to lead…!”
Forest makes another lunge for the smaller woman, misses and is punished for it by being knocked back to the floor.
I’m agog as I watch this little woman… there’s no other word but toy with the giant man!
“…but victory does not care how big you are, how strong you are, how classy or educated you are or what**’**s in your pants or panties…!”
She dodges around his arm and pins his chest to the floor with her knee.
“Discipline and trainin’ determine victory!… Things that I have and Pvt Forest LACKS!… Things that ALL of you will acquire, over the next 8 months!!!” she turns her head down to the mountain of man she’s pinning to the floor “Concede, Private!”
The man shakes his head, trying in vain to leverage himself up.
“Alright then… Lesson 2: When faced with a resistant individual, compliance can be effectively enforced by the expedient of lockin’ their joints to induce PAIN!!!”
She grabs his thick arms by the wrists and pulls them backwards in a way they are not meant to bend!
He screams in agony!
“CONCEDE!!!… Don’t make me send you to the Medical Officer! It’d be inconvenient for BOTH of us if your pride makes you miss your first week of trainin’ while your arms heal!!!”
He holds out for two more seconds before screaming “I concede! I CONCEDE!!!”
She releases him and stands back up.
“On your feet, Soldier…” she growls down at him.
He stands back up, his face beet red.
“Are you ever goin’ to question my fitness to instruct again, Private?” she glares up at the humiliated giant.
“No.” he answers, gracelessly.
“No…?” she says as if waiting for something else.
Forest looks as confused as I am about what she’s expecting.
“No, Ma’am!” she snarls.
“No, Ma’am.”
“Good, we’ll work on your attitude, movin’ forward. Now, get back in line!”
The humiliated man picks up his civvy jacket and returns to the place he was called out from.
“Now, I don’t think I need to prattle on anymore about how you’re gonna hate me by the end of our time together, do I?… I think Pvt Forest helped me prove that point quite well, so I’ll move on… You will sleep in this buildin’, six to a room. Your rooms will be gender segregated. If you wish for a place to be… intimate with people of the opposite gender, you may request use of one of the conjugal rooms… I suggest you do the same if you want to be intimate with a same gender partner but that’s between you and your roommates! You will eat in this room at 0700hrs, 1200hrs and 1800hrs. Diet’ry requirements will be accommodated but, bare in mind, this ain’t your mummies’ and daddies’ kitchen! ‘This food is forbidden by my religion/personal ethics’ is a diet’ry requirement. ‘I am allergic to this food’ is a diet’ry requirement! ‘I don’t like how this food tastes’ is not(!)… In the mornin’s, you will be receivin’ lessons in lecture theatres, workshops and the like…”
“Oh great… just what I wanted after leaving school(!) More classrooms(!)” I mutter to myself.
Her head instantly wheels to me with unnerving precision.
“Someone else with somethin’ they’d like to say!?” she says, locking eyes with me, terrifyingly.
“No, Ms Sands!” I answer, instantly.
“Miss?! I’m not your bloody schoolteacher girl!!!”
Everyone laughs. Even Pvt Forest, like he wasn’t just humiliated himself, 2 minutes ago!
“Ma’am… err… Ma’am, no, Ma’am!!!” I say, doing my best to emulate the tone I’ve seen soldiers use in films.
She rolls her eye (it’s difficult to tell if the bionic rolls too) and says “Better… What’s your name, Private?”
“Ma’am, the Private’s name is Esme Reid, Ma’am!!!”
“Do you remember me tellin’ you this ain’t Full Metal Jacket?… You don’t need to scream when you talk to me, you don’t need to refer to yourself in third person and one ‘Ma’am’, when you’re done speakin’, is enough, Reid!”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She points to her single, mauve eye, then to me and says “I’ll have my eye on you, Reid!”
Somehow, her tone sends a chill up my spine but I do my best not to show it.
She turns away and I release a silent sigh of relief.
“As I was sayin’… In your lectures you will learn the ins and outs of military theory; tactics, strategies, logistics etc. You will learn as much as we can tell you about the nature of the species we are fightin’; their capabilities, tendencies, political organisations and known weaknesses… bear in mind that First Contact weren’t much more than 4 years ago and we’ve been at War for almost all the intervenin’ time, so a lot of what we teach you will be little more than guesswork and hearsay from prisoners we’ve interrogated… The mornin’s’ll also be where you learn the particulars of the equipment you’ll be expected to be proficient with in the field. This includes firearms, plasmaweaponry and durasteel armour, as well as the tech you’ll likely encounter from the opposite side; kinetic pulse weapons, laser weapons, field emitters etc… I strongly suggest that no one allows word to get back to me that they’re not takin’ these classes seriously!… A stupid soldier is a dead soldier!”
She glares around the room, her eyes resting on me four a quarter of a second.
“…In the afternoons and evenin’s, you’ll be doing PT… that’s ‘Physical Trainin’’… soon to be every one of your two least favourite words in the English Language(!) “
I notice a wry smirk twist the mouths of a few of the camp attendants.
“In PT you will be drilled in agility, endurance, close quarters combat and coordinated marching… Five times over the comin’ 8 months, you and your trainin’ partner will be dropped into a remote bit of wilderness, somewhere on Earth, for five day practical survival experience. You will be given a beacon, to summon retrieval, but these are only to be used in cases of actual threat to life or bodily integrity… not because you’re feelin’ miserable!”
She takes a second to pause for breath.
“You get an allowance of 12 days off, over your time here… that’s two a month… These are subject to my approval and I may deny them for any reason, including no reason… so don’t piss me off!… You may not take more than 2 consecutive days leave at a time! Certain classes are mandatory and leave will not be approved on days they occur. If your allowance is spent, no more leave will be approved, barring a real emergency!… Now, for today, you are going to line up to have your maps and room keys downloaded onto your holos when your name is called, then you are going to have your bodies scanned for your armour measurements… at that point everyone with no uterus has the rest of the day free to settle in… If you have a uterus, you’ll need to report to medical to get your cycle paused! This is, I’m afraid, nonoptional… You are not prohibited from engaging in relations with your fellow recruits but you cannot be a soldier while you’re able to get pregnant. Attempts to circumvent this requirement in any way will land you in the Stockade!… After your cycle pause has been given, you’ll also have the rest of the day to settle in… Enjoy it! It’ll be the most downtime you get for a while!… Finally… I believe we have a 17 year old with us here… Pvt Taylor?”
A few people put their hands up, most looking confused.
“Pvt Oskar Taylor! The 17 year old?” she says, exasperated.
All but one of those with their hands up put them down.
The one remaining Pvt Taylor with his hand in the air has pale skin, black hair, brown eyes and a sharp featured face wearing a dour expression.
He stands even taller than Forest… Nearly 2m tall!
Though he’s not quite as heavily built, he’s certainly a good looking piece of boycandy!
“Pvt Taylor…” says Sands, her mouth breaking into a smile for the first time I’ve seen “…couldn’t wait to go off to War, could you(?)”
He mutters something but, while I can hear the power and deepness of his voice, I can’t make out a word he says.
“You’ll have to speak up, Taylor! Nobody’ll be able to hear you if you mumble.” points out Sands.
“I said I had some personal circumstances that made this the most sensible course of action for me, Ma’am.” says the tall, dark haired man, looking over her head rather than down at her and speaking in a grim monotone. He definitely loses boycandy points for the poshness of his accent, unfortunately…
“I see… I won’t pry into that but… you didn’t think of Officer Training? That’s the route that most people take when volunteering ahead of their conscription.”
He shakes his head “I thought of it and decided against it, Ma’am.”
“Oh? Why’s that, Pvt Taylor?”
“I didn’t believe I would make a good officer, Ma’am.” he answers simply.
She laughs “I wish every soldier could be as introspective, Taylor! I like you!… Unfortunately, bein’ a minor does mean that you can’t be put in a room with others… Sooo, that means you get a room to yourself… for the moment. Might sound cushy but before anyone else gets too jealous, bare in mind that privacy is the only advantage! His room will be a sixth the size of yours so its basic’ly a broomcupboard… the disadvantage will be severely reduced opportunity to socialise!… If that doesn’t sound doable, you can leave and come back when you turn 18, Taylor.”
“It’s acceptable, Ma’am.” he says without hesitating.
Yeah… it’s official… I don’t like him…
---later---
I rub the spot on my arm where the serum was thunked into me about 15 minutes ago.
Like with everything else about conscription, I get it… I understand the point…
But seeing the sense doesn’t mean I have to like it!
It’s not like I want to get pregnant (getting a nine month reprieve from service would be a fairly shitty reason for me to bring a child into the world) but it does feel like one last slap in the face to my personal autonomy that I’ve just had a cycle pause fucking mandated upon my body by the government!
As I draw near, door 1512 detects the key downloaded on my holo and unlocks
I open it and am greeted by a blonde girl, smiling broadly and instantly identifiable as brimming with ADHD energy.
“Hey there! My name’s Charlotte, it’s lovely to meet you!” says the girl, wrapping me in a hug without asking if I’m OK with that.
Her accent makes me wonder if everyone I meet here is going to be a posh toff!
She makes three of three of my fellow draftees!
“A pleasure, Charlotte… the name’s Esme…” I say, speaking Scottish accented standard English and gingerly patting her back.
“Oh, you’re Scottish…?” she says pulling herself off me with an expression that suggests meeting a Scottish person is just the most wonderful thing she could have imagined “…My great grandmother was from Edinburgh, where are you from?”
“Stranraer.” I answer.
She frowns “I don’t know it, I’m sorry!”
“I won’t hold it against you… Southwestern tip of Scotland? Where it nearly touches Ireland and the Man Peninsula?… ’Bout two and a half million people?”
“Oh, wooow! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone from a village before!” she says, seeming entirely oblivious to how that might be taken as an insult.
“Yeah… I guess it’s not that big.”
“Well…” she wraps me back in the hug and continues “…we’re the first ones to the room and that has to mean we’re going to be best friends!”
“I’m afraid my best friend’s name is Tamsin… the position is not open.” I say, firmly setting a boundary.
“I meant best bootcamp friends, silly!” she says, as if that should have gone without saying.
“Alright… I guess that positions open… but you’ve not got the job yet(!)” I quip, warming up a little to the ball of posh English energy.
She pulls back and beams at me “Alright then, for my first act as best bootcamp friend candidate, let me show you the view!… That should earn me some points!”
She says, leading me into the room that’s so small it makes me doubt that that goody-two-shoes 17 year old can possibly have one a sixth this size!
She leads me to the window and spends a few moments making sure I’m positioned just right before she draws back the curtain.
The view is quite breathtaking… rolling hills of snow blanketed mammoth steppe, lit by evening sun, with barely any of the sprawling military camp visible.
Though, you can see one of the tallest structures ever built by Humanity… the Sussex Space elevator… several times the Earth’s own diameter, the ‘top’, if you can even call it that, is a fifth of the way from here to Luna! …And… in 8 months, I’m going to be riding it, all the way up, to get on a troop transport.
“Look! See! There’s a herd of aurochs over on that hill! You know this place used to be a national park, before even Unification or the Reset! It’s called the South Downs! My mum told me we had family from here… obviously I never met any of them because they would have left hundreds of years ago!…”
The bubbly girl talks and talks and… just keeps talking… but I don’t particularly mind.
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