Civic center light rail station

The room and board i'm at won't let me keep my cat anymore, so need a place that cat friendly and hopefully have my own room since she scared of people that isn't me or my dad. And anywhere in Sacramento county is fine but hoping for a place that within walking distance of the sacrt light rail and bus lines.

Rereading End and the Death and again I noticed the term Neuro Synergy used several times to describe how Custodes communicate. I went through other Custodes books Emperors Legion, Master of Mankind, Gates of Bone etc and there is no other mention of it. Nothing in the codex that I recall either. It appears to be a new thing Abnett had introduced.
Evidently Custodes have some sort of limited telepathy which allows them to communicate with other Custodes. It’s mentioned several times most notably when Amon confronts the Wardens and asks about clarification of orders.
“‘Directives have been issued,’ says Harahel. ‘Confirmation of those directives may be obtained from the captain-general.’ ‘Obtain them,’ says Amon. ‘This is not currently possible. Captain-General Valdor is unavailable.’ ‘Obtain them via neuro-synergetics.’ ‘This is not currently possible,’ says Aedile-Marshal Harahel. ‘Captain-General Valdor is not present on Terra, and neuro-synergetic link is unviable.’
Later on when Valdor and his strike team land on the Vengeful Spirit you get this
“The others in the company strike. Their reactions could not be faster; reflexes that would shame mere Astartes. From pre-flare precipitation through materialisation through first daemon murders to their first kills, barely six nanoseconds pass. They are at pitched combat instantly, without prelude or warning, like pict-footage edited to play from the middle of battle. They are moving and killing before Geliden hits the deck, before the pieces of Astricol begin to separate, before Valique starts screaming. Constantin Valdor truncates the daemon he appears face to face with. His power sword is in and through the thing before it can react. Its head – massive, horned, manged with disease – is still grinning in anticipation as it is sheared off its shoulders. Valdor doesn’t need to speak. His command over his Custodes is partly wordless neuro-synergy, and partly decades of relentless drill and rehearsal. The company moves as one thing, like a troupe of gymnasts, their performance at once both precise choreography and acutely nuanced reaction. Their conditioning and combat formats are cured into them, practised to the point of objective perfection, but the expression of them is ordained, demi-second by demi-second, by Valdor’s neural cues. He doesn’t need to speak because there is no need for verbal command, and because there is nothing to say anyway.”
It’s mentioned 7 times in the novel and best described by this quick exchange when two Custodes switch stations and one just touches the other in passing
“The forehead touch is not a greeting, or a gesture of respect, it is merely a rapid neurosynergetic transfer that instantly acquaints Dolo Lamora with the circumstantial detail of Caecaltus’ vacated post, as though he had been standing there himself all this while. Uzkarel Ophite does not look up to watch Caecaltus go, nor does he look up to see Dolo Lamora arrive. He is simply aware of the situational change. His concentration and alert remain pure.”
So evidently a mere touch can relay all pertinent information from one Custodes to another. Furthermore there seems to be a range limit but it’s also able to transfer information and commands over a distance as evidenced by the Valdor passage and this when Sanguinius is confronted by a Custodian.
“He is aware of the others now. Four other senior Sentinels, summoned no doubt by the proconsul’s neurosynergetics, have arrived behind him in complete silence.”
Am I missing something? This seems to be a new thing and may explain why tho it looks like Custodes fight individually they are actually so in tune with each other that they instinctively cover each others blindsides without any need of communication.
Also did a quick calc. 6 nanoseconds from teleport in to first demons dead is absolutely insane. There are one billion nanoseconds in a second. We have examples of Custodes reacting in nanoseconds before but never given an exact number it’s always been vague. There reaction times here are basically light speed. As light travels roughly one foot per nanosecond. Assuming the Custodes appear within 6 feet of the the first demon kills that’s almost exactly light speed movement.

https://imgur.com/a/pxJMVMe
Ok, a few up for grabs today !
MBK XL SlayBack . https://imgur.com/a/8hHOj0J
Awesome knife ! Very slim package for all that blade . San Mai zdp189 steel , factory edge and very sharp . Snappy action with great detent . I’m the second owner , it felt a little gritty so I disassembled and cleaned and noticed the detent hole in the blade had a machining burr around it so I lightly sanded it down and now it’s smooth . A few swirl marks because of this on the tang but you can’t see it unless it’s disassembled. Centering and lockup are good . No marks on blade and body might have a snail or two but I can’t find any . Has pouch . Asking 160.00 shipped
‼️‼️‼️SOLD‼️‼️‼️Spyderco Manix LW Knife Joker . https://imgur.com/a/y8NMRq8
This is a solid and crazy light workhorse . The cool Fuckin translucent green handles , 20cv blade which is in great shape , no scratches or chips . Still very sharp . No marks on body … overall an amazing lightweight edc do it all Knaf . No box . Asking 140.00 ‼️‼️‼️SOLD‼️‼️‼️
Double X Kwaiken https://imgur.com/a/H2dtY8h In 440c at 58 hrc with acid etch . Wood and micarta scales. Has a nice leather sheath. I just don’t ever really carry a fixed blade . Tip came slightly rounded New from maker , has cert . Asking 140.00

Basically I'm basing at the riverside police station. I have this problem where I couldn't find the light switch for the main part of the police station. Another thing I was breaking some wall however I stopped at the one that has the light switches on them is there a way to make them or move them?

Just like that, you are given the ability to change the map of Villedor? How would you go about that and why? For me, here's how I would change it to make it look better, realistic, and more E3.
Vehicles: 1) Placement - Vehicular placement better suits to what people were doing before and not just lazily put crashes everywhere. 2) Paint - More looks of paint so it feels less like copy and pasted all the time and for overall look. Some vehicles I think could be better textured are emergency response, civilian, and business 3) More vehicles and types - More vehicles as well as type of cars, trucks, SUVs, motarbikes all that so it yet again, it feels less copy and pasted and more akin to various brands, businesses, and national origin of vehicles
Buildings: 1) More unique buildings - Instead of the usuall same shit. We get the occasional library, museum, police station, landmark, school, and all that. 2) Rundown - Buildings look more rundown and grayish rather than the bright colors they exasperate. 3) Foliage - Grass and other flora aren't that present on the rooftops
Installations: 1) Military - Proper military checkpoints that have actually proper fortifications, equipment, and vehicles lying around. 2) Medical - Small little areas where medical help was provided that contains ambulances, makeshift buildings, and all that like that seen in the bridge area of Harran in Dying Light 1. 3) Police and Swat - Areas of police and Swat holdout and patrol rather than just the occasionally sprinkled Swat truck or police van or cruiser
Vibe: 1) Color - Less bright and garish in more favor of gritty, darker, or neutral colors 2) Lighting and shadows - Designed to look better
Map: 1) More open - Self explanatory. Streets are wider and the map is bigger to compensate. 2) Outer areas - Countryside and forest make up the outerends of Villedor 3) Chemical zones - To me, it never really made sense why the flora went to the roofs given that the chemicals only covered areas where the player wasn't allowed to be in. I'd say to solve this through having little areas of chemicals sprinkled and act as hazard zones rather than just acting as Dying Light 2s version of the invisible barrier.

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/Qg9e44e
Hey y’all I wanna get this guy gone this week.
Parts list:
•Geissele Mk4 9.3” handguard
•Aero Precision upper receiver
•Magpul enhanced dust cover
•Toolcraft NiB BCG
•Ballistic Advantage 10.3” Hanson Profile barrel, stainless carbine length tube, Aero low pro gas block
•Radian Raptor LT
•Griffin Armament Hammer Comp, dedicated host for their M4SD cans
•Holosun 403C-GR perfect glass no salt
•UTG el cheapo aluminum BUIS
•Streamlight Pro-Tac HLX 1000 lumens w/ pressure switch
•BCM foregrip and MCMR rail covers
$600 for upper with optic and light, $450 just the upper with CH and BCG, $300 just upper. Open to offers, I need this thing to move. Will sell Holosun separately for $150.

We are Azure Infinitum
Visit us at: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/)
You may have seen us in the Aether data center's party finder during our weekly events, or may have seen our recruitment shouts around the realm in-game in Midgardsormr, but there just isn't enough space in those places to really explain everything wonderful about what our Free Company and community is.
Azure Infinitum is an LGBTQ+ friendly community, and welcomes players of all experience level, play style, and availability. We're a warm home with a balance of online players, weekly optional activities, and flexible ranks from our membership, to our support & leadership categories. We have a 24/7 Support Team, a Councilship that governs each tier, seasonal events of our own, and many resources between the games we support and online services.
Who We Are
We are an established 9-year old community who's home is in Midgardsormr Server of Final Fantasy XIV. We are a structured, well-rounded, welcoming, friendly, and organized community that hosts daily events (check out our calendar: https://azureinfinitum.com/events/ ) that provide opportunity for members to excel. We work to provide an arena and opportunities to establish strong bonds and camaraderie between our members. As a community we are driven, we carry each other forward, and we are proud.
Our Name & Philosophy
Learn more about our global community here: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/aboutus/)
Learn more about our FFXIV Free Company here: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/ourffxivfc/)
Azure Infinitum means "Azure/Blue Infinity or Infinite Blue/Azure" and there is some mythos behind the name that stems from our guild-wide philosophy of kindness, freedom, vigilance, diversity and activity. We promote positive fellowship among members in an organized guild, with our sights open to our unending endless skies, full of possibility and success together.
Our motto is "As Free As The Azure Sky!" which stuck well when our FC was restructured from an old guild in 2014 as Azure was founded, and it was first shouted as we looked out at a clear blue sky above. has continued to be our electric victory as we continue to snowball in success and activity, our members soaring high through the Azure Sky, flying together!
Ranks
Click here to learn more about our community ranks: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/ranks/)
Our community has an organized ranking structure beginning with Members who comprise the majority of the roster. Scouts are our support team of Members who've stepped up to more officially support the FC, some work on obtaining a future leadership rank. Lieutenants and Officers comprise the proud Azure Council, a diverse group of players of different specialties and services to the FC, making up lower and higher tier leadership, seeing over the Scouts and the FC weekly events, aside from being admins. The FC Infinitum Master oversees all and leads the Azure Council and the company forward while always keeping the heart and vision of the community alive and in sight. Currently we are re-assessing ranks in the free company, giving more support permissions and duties to our Scouts, while the current council operates as a small team of Lieutenants lead by the FC Master.
Everyone Welcome and Who Fits Best
We have an open door policy. Whether you're casual, a returning player, a veteran, or a newbie, we have a vast array of players in our member roster. Our weekly schedule is organized and provides an array of activity for players of most levels, however we like to ask players who're pretty new or under the level cap, to be extra vocal about their needs while they're still unable to attend some daily events or higher level content that most of our weekly lineup focuses on. We want everyone to have as much fun as possible and have the most success. We find that most players enjoy Azure Infinitum, many have stated that they subscribed to FFXIV much longer than they ever would have imagined after they have been around in our community, as they've gotten involved and experienced all that we offer.
Our FC keeps a daily schedule (see here: https://www.azureinfinitum.com/events/) of events that are hosted by permitted Scouts and Council ranks, these range from 8-man and 24-man raids and map parties, to WT journal groups and trial clear parties or farms, and more- and attending anything isn't mandatory at all here. We're happy to have you, and its up to our members how much they'd like to get involved. Attendance is optional! There's never any stress to attend FC functions.
Savage Raiding Statement
We find that some hardcore raiders looking for free companies just to join their statics who don't already have one, might not fit well if savage raiding is their only or greatest focus, because traditionally Azure does not have a Savage Static, but focuses more on allowing members to organize their own groups and also provides resources to do so. Despite not supporting an official static for the FC, we hope that hardcore raiders enjoy the wealth of our community's wealth of harmony and overall fun, and that everyone may take initiative to seek out or build a raiding static within our community if they are interested, as opposed to missing out on experiencing Azure. Depending on the content season, we may have an Unofficial static lead by a leader, and routinely offer limited time Savage-learning events that may run for a number of months.
Rules and No Drama Policy
Please take a moment to look over our Rules Page at (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/rules/), we find that rude individuals and people who create drama are the outsiders here that don't fit well. We know its a big page, so at least visit the General Rules section before joining.
Recruitment Care & Activity
People of Azure Infinitum are often if not always good natured players who found their way to our community looking for a place with structure, friendliness, organization, and great activity, or they've been scouted during recruitment drives and have been well screened. Its a place where one can be social and attend everything, or relax in the background and enjoy the services and facilities of being in an active, organized, and friendly FC. We actively recruit periodically to assist with upkeep of community activity levels, and to meet new comrades. A community that closes recruitment can be doomed to stagnation. Its normal for a community to have an inner core of die hards who log in daily regardless of content releases, and also have an outer core of individuals that range from those with less availability to those who check in during Patches. This is why we take extra care in keeping the fresh blood flowing into Azure, cautious recruitment, and support our active model by always staying welcoming and sometimes running recruitment campaigns and other services. Like this ad!
Handling Online Drama
Because we keep a no-drama policy and have a strong communication network, it is leadership's ultimate priority to handle any issues that may come up as soon as possible, and most people appreciate our problem solving which has inspired many other communities. Between our Support & Leadership ranks, we use a number of report and resource channels to handle situations, and perform problem solving protocols & tactics to fairly address issues as possible. Drama is inevitable at some point for any online community, so its important to have a large and strong list of moderators (currently around 60!) and a council of leaders (15+) to quickly handle any problems. Luckily, we don't have a lot of drama, but we're always very well equipped and very prepared. Our community has been commended by game staff in the past for our methods, and we have worked with the FFXIV Special Task Force to ensure as much safety to our community as achievable. It should be stressed that it is up to our membership to report to GM's in-game, and to Azure Leadership should any issues or concerns come up. Its also highly recommended that our members appropriately document evidence that can be used to help us assess situations and make proper decisions. Documenation such as screenshots of harassment is a great example! Our members online safety is greatly important to us and is a number one concern of our leadership team. Our Rules Page at: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/rules/) describes a bit more in Chapter 3, including other entries on avoiding/ignoring trolls, playing while intoxicated, depression, and more.
Our Philosophy
We believe in our community and its people, how far we can go, how much we can do for each other, being an experienced community who's core values are positive fellowship, formation of bonds, and indomitable unity.
Azure Infinitum tightly grasps success and masters a casual and lucrative weekly play schedule while inspiring motivation and providing avenues for further success, friendships, and camaraderie among all who freely fly together among our Azure skies.
Founding on the principles of intricately forging a generally drama-free experience with keen leadership and a zealous and mighty membership, Azure has striven to guide and support many hundreds of players through every era of Final Fantasy XIV.
With an illustrious history, company lore, impressive statistics, and a model that is adaptable and blessed with innovative ability, Azure Infinitum claims a dominant presence of excellence and player growth that is possible in our community and extended services.
Estate Organization
We have the entire set-up at our estate, from gardens for members and Krakka Root production (free for members' chocobos), to our stables, nicely uniform clean lawn with hangout spots that are popular, with crafting stations, all available NPCs for simple mats and repairs, cut-scene viewer, toybox, triple-triad board, a fully operational and geared fleet of airships and subs, and our Azure Infinitum Assembly Chamber on the top floor for our meetings where announcements are made at our Grand Assemblies. Check it out if you like at Mist Ward 7 Plot 1.
We also have an organized form of gathering for weekly events in the yard, places to relax, food that is always available on tables at our Cellar, and hold a lot of special events and social games at our Hall. We're also conveniently located next to a Market Board and a Retainer Bell outside of our estate.
Communication and Extended Azure Services
We have multiple services of which none are mandatory, but we provide being (azureinfinitum.com) where our Forums, Event Calendar, News, Company Meeting Summaries, Seasonal Merch Giveaways, Contests, Rules Page, and more take place and can be found. We also have a popular and active Discord Server.
We also have a Facebook Group, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, Steam Group, (Look us up! Or visit: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/socialmedia/) and Linkshells like our Infinitum Alliance LS for contact and aid from our allies if needed, our Azure Hunters LS for Hunters, and our Azure Industry LS which connects our members to our inner crafting/gathering community for newbies to pros.
Also worthy of mention is our big Company Meetings in-game, known as Azure Infinitum Grand Assemblies. Even though we have several avenues that keep people connected, our live assemblies gather the FC in unity where announcements are made first, and all proposals, ideas, and more, can be decided together live with the Azure Council present.
This network ensures a lot of information and communication gets around and has been exceedingly useful to us.
More On Events
One part of our reputation that often precedes us is our event crafting and hosting.
First, let me make sure its clear that attendance is never mandatory, but those who can make use, when possible, of what we provide each day, benefit from our events each week.
Since our beginning, traditions like our Thursday Treasure Thursdays events have run each week. Our weekly line-up presently begins on Tuesdays post-weekly reset, and consists of Raid Tuesdays, Wondrous Wednesdays (WT Journal Parties, often doubles as Trial Clears and Pony Drops), Treasure Thursdays (Endwalker's timeworn maps with groups of 8 doing up to 3 rounds of maps allowing for up to 24 maps ran), 24-Man Tuesdays (full pre-formed Azure 24-member alliances are made and raids are cleared, will be returning upon the release of EW's 24-man), Super Azure Slayer Sunday (our weekly meetup to do all sorts of PVP content be it Rival Wings or Frontline), and Monstrous Mondays (helps clear the current and previous patch extreme trials).
Special, Seasonal, and Quarterly Events
More info here: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/azureday/)See the latest event news & more at: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/news/)
We also have what we call Special and Quarterly Events. These types of events are Weekend-Long-Events that usually consist of a theme or celebratory social events we craft. During these events we hold big Riddle Races, Costume/Glamour shows and contests, 3-Story Mansion Maze Races, Speedrun Dungeon Races, Hide and Seek games, Custom Quest Events, Discord events like Cards Against Humanity nights, Comedy events, PVP Tournament Circuits, and more.
Our Special and Quarterly events are Azure Day Weekend (Takes place 3 times a year across a weekend, celebrates the FC), Azure Summer Festival (3-days at the end of August in partnership with Child's Play, raises money for children in long-term care, anniversary of historic FC event called the Lunar Rebellion), Anniversary Azure Day (a big weekend event in November that celebrates our Founding), Azure Day Saint's Wake (celebrates Halloween/All Saint's Wake), Azure Starlight Day (celebrating Starlight Day/Christmas/December Holiday Season), Azure Grand Melee and Duel Tournaments (PVP Circuit series crowning our PVP Champions) and more.
Azure Day Weekends
If you've been around our server you may have heard of our Azure Day Weekends. Our Azure Days take place quarterly as mentioned just above, with four evolved editions called Azure Summer Festival, Azure Day Saint's Wake, Azure Starlight Day, and Anniversary Azure Day. With Azure Day Weekends and related events traditionally occuring quarterly our members are always excited to see the next big weekend of crazy and fun social games, and our showering of the free company in gil and prizes galore. We go all out when we celebrate the free company, and Azure Days are another way we find for leadership to give back to the community. 2023 and beyond is now host to additional seasonal Azure Day events!
We're always giving our members a chance to have fun, win big, and make some great memories in the in-game family we've become. Something fun is always on the horizon in Azure.
Community
I almost can't stress enough how friendly our community is. We have a vast variety of members from hardcore gatherers and crafters, social butterflies, chill veterans, experienced raiders, level grinders, support teams, PVP aficionados, mechanic specialists, and mentors. We're also very friendly to all casual players as well and we keep an open door so long as recruits are always aware that we have a no-drama tolerance here.
​Evolution into a Gaming Clan & Network
Plans are in the works and foundations are being laid that is slowly turning our community into a larger gaming network, with our first established Azure Wing with regular occurring activity being founded in Monster Hunter World, this has led to a successful Destiny 2 clan and more. Becoming a member of our Discord and/or Free Company now means access to things like our huge discord, Azure Wing membership in other games, and being able to join in on any of our other activities in the general community. Azure Network as its being called at the moment, is growing with an all-new website and community features for playing together across Final Fantasy XIV and to Azure Skies beyond!
Activity
We rank high as one of the top FC's in Worldwide Activity on lodestone, and have for a long time. Most of our players are divided between the US East and West Coasts, members in East and West Canada, and a few outside the US or in EU or Aus zones. Because we do have an activity policy (mentioned below) we keep a standard flow of people, and have crowds in the early morning, late morning, early afternoon, afternoon, evening, and late night crowds.
Elitism isn't our style. Our community boasts a broad range of characters, great personalities, the proud, and also some silly goofs. But elitism isn't welcome, no matter how successful we are or how large we grow. We're always welcoming towards fresh faces interested in joining our guild, and the in-game activity ranges between 30-60+ online at once during prime time hours, sometimes around 70+ on patch days, and usually always with half the roster logging in throughout a 24 hour period, and around 15-30+ during the night.
Activity Policy
We ask that our members do not go missing without logging in for more than 60 days straight. If we hear word from someone or have some kind of decent excuse, we place our members on our On Vacation rank, which lasts presently until 90 days have passed. Exceptions are made for military deployments, hospital stays, financial issues, disability/health related issues, moving, or other reasons that might fall on a case-by-case basis.
All members not heard from in 60 days (roughly 2 months) or currently 90 days (roughly 3 months) are discharged. We allow 3 joins to Azure Infinitum in total, but exceptions can be made due to reasons listed above. If removed for inactivity, or you've left our FC for another reason and haven't already joined 3 times, you're always welcome back, but please remember, we are not a revolving door.
Keeping our roster full of members who have been online and presently play the game actively ensures an active environment for our players who play often. It also keeps our credits and clerical processes balanced across our network, and allows space for new faces to join our big happy in-game family of comrades.
How to Join
Quick Instructions here for joinin us in FFXIV & more: (https://www.azureinfinitum.com/howtojoinazure/)
If you are interested in joining our Azure Infinitum free company, please register an application at our site and/or FC in-game. You can also seek any of our Scouts, Lieutenants, Officers, or the Master of Azure Infinitum in-game and ask for an invite. You can find their names on the roster page at our website.
If you read everything on this page, you are awesome, and you should let anyone you talk to who recruits you know that you read everything on this page which will greatly expedite your invitation to join.
If you have any questions whatsoever feel free to send a /tell in-game to me or any of our Scouts or Lieutenants listed on our official roster here: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/freecompany/9232519973597911137/membe
You can also message us at our FB Page: https://www.facebook.com/AzureInfinitum
Discord here: https://discord.gg/azureinfinitum
Twitter: https://twitter.com/azureinfinitum
Insta: https://www.instagram.com/azure_infinitum/
Main Site: https://www.azureinfinitum.com/

Thank you to u/SabbyofSableWine for the inspiration to make this, that's why I tagged it as Writing Prompt and not Original Story since I do borrow one or two ideas (they're very good ideas.)
First time posting on this sub so if I screwed anything up please lmk in the comments and happy reading!
Part 1:
It was a bittersweet day on the ship, Xoll had taken an early retirement to go home and take care of their sick parents, I knew I wouldn't be seeing much of them anymore, which devastated me as over our 3 Stellar Periods working together we had become quite close friends. Xoll was a friend to us all, that's the Om for you. After giving them a proper send off we anxiously clamored just outside the airlock to hanger bay 2 to see who the federation send to replace them.
The shuttle docked making a loud mechanical THUNK that reverberated through the metal corridor and the airlock hissed as it sprung into action, we all cleared the door. It spun to life, gears turning and lights flashing as the doors prepared to open, and out stepped of all things, a Human.
We all gasped in shock, we had all learned of stories about their brutal engagements in battle, engagements that rarely left survivors, and only as to serve as a messenger to the rest of the fleets. We had all heard of rumors about how they eat and drink some of the most volatile poisons known to the universe like it's nothing. I wouldn't be lying if I said we were all terrified deep down that this human would bring nothing but trouble.
"What you all standing around murmuring, this can't possibly be your first time meeting a human."
The crowd pushed me to the front, and I thought to myself Oh come on, you're really just gonna make me have to talk to him.
"Hello" I said sheepishly.
"Oh, I take it you've all heard the stories." He said making a weird sound I later came to learn as chuckling.
My eyes darted to the floor, so did everyone else's.
"Well, my name is Dr. William Schneider, but you can just call me William, I'm your new engineer, I was in fact born on Earth and I graduated top of my class and Terra Polytechnic and I just got assigned to your lovely ship. I look forward to getting to know you all."
He stuck out one of his hands, such peculiar things, all boney and rigid with these weird round lumps all over the 5 protrusions. I had no clue what to do with it, do I touch it, do I hit it?
"I take it your not familiar with the hand shake, it's a human custom, we grab each other's extended hand and shake it up and down"
How strange I thought, extending one of mine to join him in this strange custom. I shook his hand up and down, side to side and all around.
"Woah they're slow down you're gonna break it off! Just up and down, not too aggressively."
Don't hear about a human saying that very often now do you.
"Okay look it's probably wise to just resume whatever you're supposed to be doing, I'll say hi whenever I run into you"
"Why would you be running into us!?" Said Hlxop quite startled, he was of Avian classification and had quite fragile bones.
"Figure of speech, just means whenever I see you, no need to be concerned" William answered.
We all returned to out stations, being and navigator I went to the ships bridge along with a dozen or so others, William oddly enough though had disappears off to stars know where in the ship.
"Hey, does anyone know where William went?" I asked the group, William was a relatively mid rank officer and was required to be at the bridge for his introductory tour.
"Wait" said the Captain Reloxyn, turning around to look for him, letting out a deep exhale she said "Looks like we'll just have to make a few calls when we get to to the bridge, lets just hope this isn't some weird human thing that he'll keep doing, planets know it's already getting on my nerves." she said, with her hair undulating purple, indicating stress.
After getting to the bridge, we made a few calls before Hyldron (who sits next to me) tracked him down in the reactor, and of course they sent me to fetch him since he was being incredibly stubborn about insisting on meeting all the other engineers first.
After having had to march myself down to the reactor to find him mid conversation yammering on with the head of reactor ops about possible improvements to the Tritium harvester or something like that.
“What are you thinking you need to have your orientation tour 20 minutes ago!” I was borderline shrieking. “The captain’s hair has been undulating deep purple since I left!”
“If you insist." the human - I mean - William said quite begrudgingly.
After arriving at the bridge the captain, in a furious conversation demanded answers as the quote, "What in the goldilocks zone were you thinking just disappearing like that!?"
To which he replied with a "I figured that getting to know what the ship is like from the perspective of the other engineers instead of the captain and some fancy tour would make my presence here a bit less jarring, I know what your preconceived notions about Humans are and I know just how much you all revered Xoll." Admittedly I was on his side after hearing him talk, he seemed quite nice, and I wanted to get to know him better.
After eventually capitulating the Captain (though in protest I must admit) let him continue with his unusual methods William turned to me and said "Shit, I totally forgot to let you introduce yourself to me at the airlock, what's your name?" Shit was a uniquely human word, we didn't have a good translation into any other language, primarily due to it having a plethora of different meanings.
"Oh!" I said, almost jumping out of my seat. "My name is Tromō, Im a navigator here on the bridge, and I specialize in surveying pre-FTL worlds."
"Wonderful" he replied, "Nice to meet you” he said with this beaming smile that could just light up a room adorned across his face.
Pt 2 coming tomorrow!

Hey everyone, I wanted to share a seriously messed up incident I witnessed on the light rail last night. Picture this: it's a Saturday, and there are a few people in my cabin. Out of the blue, this guy in the back starts coughing like crazy, claiming he's covering his mouth (even though he totally wasn't). And as if that wasn't gross enough, he starts spitting around his seat.
But wait, it gets worse. This guy goes on a full-blown racist tirade that lasted a solid half hour, no less. I couldn't tell who he was aiming his hate at, but it was all about Mexicans. It could be me because I was one of the people onboard that could pass as Mexican (spoiler alert: I'm not). This lunatic had the audacity to yell about people not speaking "American" while claiming they were legal. He called Mexicans the "rear end of the cow", stupid, hypocrites for not joining the military, and a lot of other garbage. The worst of it? He said we shouldn't give a damn if they die, and we should "911 them." No one on the train, including me, had the guts to say anything. I didn't make eye contact because I didn't want to set him off or give him the satisfaction of being acknowledged. I mentally prepared myself to step in if he got violent. Thankfully, all he did was throw a can near his seat (not hitting anyone).
After what felt like an eternity of this unsettling rant, the jerk finally stood up, glanced at all of us, and mumbled something about how we're all pathetic before storming off.
I'm just relieved he didn't lay a finger on anyone or spit in their faces. One of the reasons I held back was because this guy looked repulsive, and the last thing I wanted was to have to touch or restrain him.
If any of you have encountered this piece of work before, here's what he looked like: a black guy, medium height, skinny, wearing sunglasses, and looking somewhere between 40 and 60 years old. He got off at either Capitol Hill or the University of Washington stop.
Stay alert and keep yourselves safe when riding public transport, everyone.
I don't know what the best thing would have been for me to do in this situation, I regret not recording it.

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Taken from http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2008/12/14/when_jesus_met_buddha/ for the intellectual discussion purposely. Not for commercial gain
When Jesus met Buddha Something remarkable happened when evangelists for two great religions crossed paths more than 1,000 years ago: they got along By Philip Jenkins December 14, 2008
While few mainline Christians would put the matter in such confrontational terms, any religion claiming exclusive access to truth has real difficulties reconciling other great faiths into its cosmic scheme. Most Christian churches hold that Jesus alone is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and many also feel an obligation to carry that message to the world's unbelievers. But this creates a fundamental conflict with the followers of famous spiritual figures like Mohammed or Buddha, who preached radically different messages. Drawing on a strict interpretation of the Bible, some Christians see these rival faiths as not merely false, but as deliberate traps set by the forces of evil.
Being intolerant of other religions - consigning them to hell, in fact - may be bad enough in its own right, but it increasingly has real- world consequences. As trade and technology shrink the globe, so different religions come into ever-closer contact with one another, and the results can be bloody: witness the apocalyptic assaults in Mumbai. In such a world, teaching different faiths to acknowledge one another's claims, to live peaceably together side by side, stops being a matter of good manners and becomes a prerequisite for human survival.
Over the past 30 years, the Roman Catholic Church has faced repeated battles over this question of Christ's uniqueness, and has cracked down on thinkers who have made daring efforts to accommodate other world religions. While the Christian dialogue with Islam has attracted most of the headlines, it is the encounters with Hinduism and especially Buddhism that have stirred the most controversy within the church. Sri Lankan theologians Aloysius Pieris and Tissa Balasuriya have had many run-ins with Vatican critics, and, more recently, the battle has come to American shores. Last year, the Vatican ordered an investigation of Georgetown University's Peter Phan, a Jesuit theologian whose main sin, in official eyes, has been to treat the Buddhism of his Vietnamese homeland as a parallel path to salvation.
Following the ideas of Pope Benedict XVI, though, the church refuses to give up its fundamental belief in the unique role of Christ. In a widely publicized open letter to Italian politician Marcello Pera, Pope Benedict declared that "an inter-religious dialogue in the strict sense of the term is not possible." By all means, he said, we should hold conversations with other cultures, but not in a way that acknowledges other religions as equally valid. While the Vatican does not of course see the Buddha as a demon, it does fear the prospect of syncretism, the dilution of Christian truth in an unholy mixture with other faiths.
Beyond doubt, this view places Benedict in a strong tradition of Christianity as it has developed in Europe since Roman times. But there is another, ancient tradition, which suggests a very different course. Europe's is not the only version of the Christian faith, nor is it necessarily the oldest heir of the ancient church. For more than 1,000 years, other quite separate branches of the church established thriving communities across Asia, and in their sheer numbers, these churches were comparable to anything Europe could muster at the time. These Christian bodies traced their ancestry back not through Rome, but directly to the original Jesus movement of ancient Palestine. They moved across India, Central Asia, and China, showing no hesitation to share - and learn from - the other great religions of the East.
Just how far these Christians were prepared to go is suggested by a startling symbol that appeared on memorials and stone carvings in both southern India and coastal China during the early Middle Ages. We can easily see that the image depicts a cross, but it takes a moment to realize that the base of the picture - the root from which the cross is growing - is a lotus flower, the symbol of Buddhist enlightenment.
In modern times, most mainstream churches would condemn such an amalgam as a betrayal of the Christian faith, an example of multiculturalism run wild. Yet concerns about syncretism did not bother these early Asian Christians, who called themselves Nasraye, Nazarenes, like Jesus's earliest followers. They were comfortable associating themselves with the other great monastic and mystical religion of the time, and moreover, they believed that both lotus and cross carried similar messages about the quest for light and salvation. If these Nazarenes could find meaning in the lotus-cross, then why can't modern Catholics, or other inheritors of the faith Jesus inspired?
Many Christians are coming to terms with just how thoroughly so many of their fundamental assumptions will have to be rethought as their faith today becomes a global religion. Even modern church leaders who know how rapidly the church is expanding in the global South tend to see European values and traditions as the indispensable norm, in matters of liturgy and theology as much as music and architecture.
Yet the reality is that Christianity has from its earliest days been an intercontinental faith, as firmly established in Asia and Africa as in Europe itself. When we broaden our scope to look at the faith that by 800 or so stretched from Ireland to Korea, we see the many different ways in which Christians interacted with other believers, in encounters that reshaped both sides. At their best, these meetings allowed the traditions not just to exchange ideas but to intertwine in productive and enriching ways, in an awe-inspiring chapter of Christian history that the Western churches have all but forgotten.
To understand this story, we need to reconfigure our mental maps. When we think of the growth of Christianity, we think above all of Europe. We visualize a movement growing west from Palestine and Syria and spreading into Greece and Italy, and gradually into northern regions. Europe is still the center of the Catholic Church, of course, but it was also the birthplace of the Protestant denominations that split from it. For most of us, even speaking of the "Eastern Church" refers to another group of Europeans, namely to the Orthodox believers who stem from the eastern parts of the continent. English Catholic thinker Hilaire Belloc once proclaimed that "Europe is the Faith; and the Faith is Europe."
But in the early centuries other Christians expanded east into Asia and south into Africa, and those other churches survived for the first 1,200 years or so of Christian history. Far from being fringe sects, these forgotten churches were firmly rooted in the oldest traditions of the apostolic church. Throughout their history, these Nazarenes used Syriac, which is close to Jesus' own language of Aramaic, and they followed Yeshua, not Jesus. No other church - not Roman Catholics, not Eastern Orthodox - has a stronger claim to a direct inheritance from the earliest Jesus movement.
The most stunningly successful of these eastern Christian bodies was the Church of the East, often called the Nestorian church. While the Western churches were expanding their influence within the framework of the Roman Empire, the Syriac-speaking churches colonized the vast Persian kingdom that ruled from Syria to Pakistan and the borders of China. From their bases in Mesopotamia - modern Iraq - Nestorian Christians carried out their vast missionary efforts along the Silk Route that crossed Central Asia. By the eighth century, the Church of the East had an extensive structure across most of central Asia and China, and in southern India. The church had senior clergy - metropolitans - in Samarkand and Bokhara, in Herat in Afghanistan. A bishop had his seat in Chang'an, the imperial capital of China, which was then the world's greatest superpower.
When Nestorian Christians were pressing across Central Asia during the sixth and seventh centuries, they met the missionaries and saints of an equally confident and expansionist religion: Mahayana Buddhism. Buddhists too wanted to take their saving message to the world, and launched great missions from India's monasteries and temples. In this diverse world, Buddhist and Christian monasteries were likely to stand side by side, as neighbors and even, sometimes, as collaborators. Some historians believe that Nestorian missionaries influenced the religious practices of the Buddhist religion then developing in Tibet. Monks spoke to monks.
In presenting their faith, Christians naturally used the cultural forms that would be familiar to Asians. They told their stories in the forms of sutras, verse patterns already made famous by Buddhist missionaries and teachers. A stunning collection of Jesus Sutras was found in caves at Dunhuang, in northwest China. Some Nestorian writings draw heavily on Buddhist ideas, as they translate prayers and Christian services in ways that would make sense to Asian readers. In some texts, the Christian phrase "angels and archangels and hosts of heaven" is translated into the language of buddhas and devas.
One story in particular suggests an almost shocking degree of collaboration between the faiths. In 782, the Indian Buddhist missionary Prajna arrived in Chang'an, bearing rich treasures of sutras and other scriptures. Unfortunately, these were written in Indian languages. He consulted the local Nestorian bishop, Adam, who had already translated parts of the Bible into Chinese. Together, Buddhist and Christian scholars worked amiably together for some years to translate seven copious volumes of Buddhist wisdom. Probably, Adam did this as much from intellectual curiosity as from ecumenical good will, and we can only guess about the conversations that would have ensued: Do you really care more about relieving suffering than atoning for sin? And your monks meditate like ours do?
These efforts bore fruit far beyond China. Other residents of Chang'an at this very time included Japanese monks, who took these very translations back with them to their homeland. In Japan, these works became the founding texts of the great Buddhist schools of the Middle Ages. All the famous movements of later Japanese history, including Zen, can be traced to one of those ancient schools and, ultimately - incredibly - to the work of a Christian bishop.
By the 12th century, flourishing churches in China and southern India were using the lotus-cross. The lotus is a superbly beautiful flower that grows out of muck and slime. No symbol could better represent the rise of the soul from the material, the victory of enlightenment over ignorance, desire, and attachment. For 2,000 years, Buddhist artists have used the lotus to convey these messages in countless paintings and sculptures. The Christian cross, meanwhile, teaches a comparable lesson, of divine victory over sin and injustice, of the defeat of the world. Somewhere in Asia, Yeshua's forgotten followers made the daring decision to integrate the two emblems, which still today forces us to think about the parallels between the kinds of liberation and redemption offered by each faith.
Christianity, for much of its history, was just as much an Asian religion as Buddhism. Asia's Christian churches survived for more than a millennium, and not until the 10th century, halfway through Christian history, did the number of Christians in Europe exceed that in Asia.
What ultimately obliterated the Asian Christians were the Mongol invasions, which spread across Central Asia and the Middle East from the 1220s onward. From the late 13th century, too, the world entered a terrifying era of climate change, of global cooling, which severely cut food supplies and contributed to mass famine. The collapse of trade and commerce crippled cities, leaving the world much poorer and more vulnerable. Intolerant nationalism wiped out Christian communities in China, while a surging militant Islam destroyed the churches of Central Asia.
But awareness of this deep Christian history contributes powerfully to understanding the future of the religion, as much as its past. For long centuries, Asian Christians kept up neighborly relations with other faiths, which they saw not as deadly rivals but as fellow travelers on the road to enlightenment. Their worldview differed enormously from the norms that developed in Europe.
To take one example, we are used to the idea of Christianity operating as the official religion of powerful states, which were only too willing to impose a particular orthodoxy upon their subjects. Yet when we look at the African and Asian experience, we find millions of Christians whose normal experience was as minorities or even majorities within nations dominated by some other religion. Struggling to win hearts and minds, leading churches had no option but to frame the Christian message in the context of non-European intellectual traditions. Christian thinkers did present their message in the categories of Buddhism - and Taoism, and Confucianism - and there is no reason why they could not do so again. When modern scholars like Peter Phan try to place Christianity in an Asian and Buddhist context, they are resuming a task begun at least 1,500 years ago.
Perhaps, in fact, we are looking at our history upside down. Some day, future historians might look at the last few hundred years of Euro- American dominance within Christianity and regard it as an unnatural interlude in a much longer story of fruitful interchange between the great religions.
Consider the story told by Timothy, a patriarch of the Nestorian church. Around 800, he engaged in a famous debate with the Muslim caliph in Baghdad, a discussion marked by reason and civility on both sides. Imagine, Timothy said, that we are all in a dark house, and someone throws a precious pearl in the midst of a pile of ordinary stones. Everyone scrabbles for the pearl, and some think they've found it, but nobody can be sure until day breaks.
In the same way, he said, the pearl of true faith and wisdom had fallen into the darkness of this transitory world; each faith believed that it alone had found the pearl. Yet all he could claim - and all the caliph could say in response - was that some faiths thought they had enough evidence to prove that they were indeed holding the real pearl, but the final truth would not be known in this world.
Knowing other faiths firsthand grants believers an enviable sophistication, founded on humility. We could do a lot worse than to learn from what we sometimes call the Dark Ages.
Philip Jenkins is Edwin Erle Sparks professor of the humanities at Penn State University. He is author of "The Lost History of Christianity: The Thousand-Year Golden Age of the Church in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia -- and How It Died," published last month.
© Copyright 2008 Globe Newspaper Company.
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2008/12/14/when_jesus_met_buddha/

So a few months ago, I filled my tank at a gas station I don't usually go to. The needle went above full when it never does that anywhere else with the same amount of gas. Immediately after, my car started having this issue of losing power going uphill and also when I need to overtake. I had also just gotten a tire change and topped up fluids. No lights are on in the dash except the parking brake light which has been on for years because of a small leak in the brake line that I haven't gotten fixed.

I ventured through the realm of the forgotten, a solitary wanderer treading the fringes of a world I could never truly call my own. Each step propelled me deeper into the heart of isolation, where extravagant condos belonging to the wealthy loomed on one side, and the impeccably groomed greens of an exclusive golf course stretched out on the other. Beyond was the sound, a channeled sea of islands and foggy weather. Sandwiched between them, an enigmatic patch of forest concealed its secrets, a barrier between opulence and the untamed.
A bone-chilling fog rolled in, veiling the nearby islands in an eerie cloak of mystery. The islands, silent and enigmatic, whispered their secrets to those who dared listen. But on this night, I had more immediate concerns that demanded my attention.
My footsteps led me towards what I knew was my path.
The forest itself seemed out of place, a remnant of untamed wilderness amidst the refined elegance of the condos and the pristine golf course. It was a forgotten corner of nature, hidden away from prying eyes, its secrets locked within its ancient trees and shadowy depths.
It was within this eerie thicket, nestled amidst the extravagant neighborhood and the tranquil sea adorned with fog-shrouded islands, that I stumbled upon a chilling discovery. Max, my loyal canine companion who had accompanied me on countless escapades, led me to a hidden grave. A heavy air of unease settled around us, and a shiver ran down my spine, for I realized I had inadvertently stepped into a dark and foreboding nightmare. Some nightmares are not cleared away in the morning light.
The forest floor was strewn with golf balls, their presence a strange incongruity against the backdrop of towering trees and decaying foliage. But it was the horror that awaited me that truly shattered any sense of normalcy. As Max began to unearth the enigma hidden beneath the earth, an ominous atmosphere descended upon our surroundings, setting the warming orchestra of my thoughts for a descent into madness.
Max began scratching at the ground, his paws kicking up small clouds of dirt. I watched him with trepidation, unsure of what he had stumbled upon. And then, the truth emerged amidst the chaos of his excavation. The forest floor, already littered with golf balls, revealed an even more unsettling sight—a skeletal hand, its bony fingers clutching a weathered club.
As Max continued to dig, my unease grew, and I could no longer ignore the foreboding sense that something terrible was about to unfold. Suddenly, a chorus of guttural voices pierced through the silence, their chilling tones mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant crash of waves against the tranquil sea.
We huddled in the dense thicket, our hearts pounding against our ribcages like captive beasts. The air grew thick with fear and the stench of decay emanating from the newly discovered grave, just a few feet away. Max, his hackles raised, stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the abyss of the forest.
The feeling of being hunted made us hide, readied us to run. Somehow they knew that we had found their secret. Perhaps the hunters were as sensitive to fate as I.
The nightmare began with a hail of arrows, raining down from above like deadly specks of darkness. I dodged and weaved, desperately seeking cover from the onslaught. The masked men, their eyes burning with malevolence, closed in on me with flashlights in hand, casting grotesque shadows against the fog-laden trees.
A thrown bottle exploded at my feet, glass shattering and cutting into my flesh. The searing pain only fueled my adrenaline-fueled flight. The hunters pursued, their footsteps thundering behind me, accompanied by their mocking laughter and sadistic jeers.
Then, a gunshot shattered the night, its sound resonating through the forest. The other men shouted in anger, chastising the gunman for his recklessness. Chaos intensified, and I felt a tomahawk cartwheel past my ear, missing me by a hair's breadth.
In the midst of the chaos, my heart ached for Max. He had vanished into the depths of the woods, drawn away by something I couldn't fathom. I wanted to run, to escape the approaching vehicles and the hunters who sought to claim me, but I couldn't abandon my faithful companion.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity. The sound of vehicles grew louder, the hunters drawing closer. I was terrified and heartbroken, my mind torn between saving myself and waiting for Max.
Just as I was about to abandon hope, a shadow emerged from the gloom. It was Max, bounding toward me with a wagging tail and a glimmer of relief in his eyes. Tears of gratitude welled in my eyes as I called out to him, and he joined me, his presence reinforcing my resolve to flee this nightmarish pursuit.
With renewed determination, Max and I sprinted through the tangled underbrush, the relentless pursuit of the hunters driving us forward. Our hearts beat in sync as we raced against the encroaching darkness.
I followed Max, as he seemed to know the way - having run ahead and found our escape.
The forest seemed to conspire against us, its twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands, ready to ensnare us in its malevolent embrace. The undergrowth became a treacherous obstacle course, threatening to trip us up with every step. But Max, ever the loyal companion, guided me through the labyrinth of shadows, his senses honed to navigate this haunting realm.
As we sprinted, our breaths ragged and desperate, the pursuing hunters closed in, their footsteps growing louder and more menacing. The sounds of their jeers and taunts echoed through the trees, a symphony of sadism that chilled me to the core.
Then, as if the forest itself decided to aid our escape, a hidden trail materialized before us. It beckoned, a sliver of hope cutting through the suffocating darkness. With no time to spare, we veered onto the path, our feet pounding against the earth, propelled by a surge of adrenaline.
The trail wound deeper into the heart of the forgotten forest, twisting and turning like a serpent, as if playing a wicked game with our pursuers. Shadows danced around us, their elongated forms whispering malevolent secrets. The air grew colder, biting into my skin, and an otherworldly hush settled over the land, as if the very essence of nature held its breath, aware of the horror unfolding within its domain.
A fog reached up from the cliffs as we ran under the open moonlight. We were exposed to our predators, yet the fog came and made us invisible to them. As we reached the other side of the cliffs and more forest, the seaside abandoned us and the fog retreated naturally.
As we raced along the path, the distant sound of crashing waves began to fade, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the haunting calls of nocturnal creatures. Fear and exhaustion threatened to overtake us, but the thought of what awaited us at the hands of the hunters fueled our determination.
The path abruptly opened up into a clearing, bathed in an ethereal glow. Moonlight filtered through a gap in the dense foliage, casting an otherworldly radiance on a weathered stone structure that stood at the clearing's center. It was a forgotten shrine, forgotten by time and those who once paid homage to its mysterious deity.
A surge of both trepidation and desperate hope coursed through me as I realized that this shrine might hold the key to our salvation. With no time to second-guess, we approached the ancient structure, its moss-covered stones seemingly pulsating with an unknown energy.
As I stepped onto the sacred ground, an unsettling stillness fell over the clearing. Max's hackles rose, his gaze fixated on the shrine's mossy entrance. A primal instinct warned us of the ancient forces at play, but we had come too far to turn back.
Summoning all the courage within me, I pushed open the heavy stone door, revealing a chamber shrouded in darkness. A chill wind swept through the entrance, carrying whispers of forgotten incantations and the scent of decay.
With hesitant steps, we ventured into the unknown depths of the shrine, our hearts pounding in our chests. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating us with a weighty anticipation. The air grew dense with an ancient power, the residue of rituals long forgotten.
A dim light flickered at the center of the chamber, drawing us closer like moths to a flame. We stood trembling, almost forgetting our dire escape. Max began a low growl that broke into a frightened whine.
From the depths of the chamber, a haunting wail erupted, resonating with the agony of centuries past. Shadows coalesced into a towering figure, its eyes blazing with an otherworldly fire. It was the wrathful spirit of the forest itself, determined to protect its secrets at any cost.
Max barked, a valiant act of defiance in the face of an unstoppable force. I stood my ground, clutching my pack, and mustered all the courage I had left. In a trembling voice, I spoke words of remorse and reverence, offering appeasement to the vengeful spirit.
"We're drawn here...to see the grave...to escape its makers."
A hush fell over the chamber as the deity listened, its wrath subsiding, if only momentarily. In a voice that echoed through my mind, it issued a warning—a warning to never return to this forsaken realm, to leave the secrets of the forgotten forest buried in the past.
It wasn't in words, it was just a feeling. I knew what it wanted, and so did Max. It had made itself clear. It would spare us only if we abandoned our trespasses.
With a final glance back at the shrine, Max and I fled, propelled by a newfound urgency. The pursuing hunters were nowhere to be seen, as if swallowed by the very darkness they sought to unleash upon us.
As we emerged from the clutches of the haunted forest, the first rays of morning painted the sky, casting a golden hue upon our weary faces. We had escaped the clutches of the forgotten, forever marked by the consequences of horror that we had personally experienced.

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/7woUbqy
Eotech XPS2-1 - Great shape. Glass is pristine. Buttons still have a lot of life. 0 delamination. This spent it's entire life on my UMP build, which only ever went to the range then back in the safe. I'm going to a T2 on the UMP for a thinner profile. Has original box. $400 shipped
German VP9 Barrel - A LOT of life left in this. A conservative estimate is that it has 500 rounds through it, and that's being generous. It was swapped pretty earlier on for at threaded barrel to run suppressed. $200 shipped
KAC RAS Bottoms (x2) - Light salt. One heatshield is marked with the KAC Logo, 1S002, and Knights Armament Company. The other is marked with the old KAC Logo and Knights Armament Company. Neither are showing any signs of purple yet. $70 each or $120 for both.
Magpul Suppressor Cover - It's just too big for my taste. It's definitely heavy duty, but probably more suited for you lucky guys who have the giggle switch. There are 2 rings on the inside that attach to the proximal and distal ends of the suppressor, preventing it from making contact with the heat shield and allowing the exterior to cool quicker. There are Youtube videos on it. Definitely looks like a fleshlight. - $50 shipped
Dakota Tactical MP5/SP5 rail Blk - Finally landed a RAS for my Mp5 so this is going up for sale. Great tube, solid lock up. Minor marks from where I added and removed attachments. I can't find the screw you need to attach. I'm sure DT can replace or at a minimum share the thread pattern and it can be sourced at the local hardware store. Bought this on 3/30 this year, got it to the range twice, then taken off. -$95 shipped
Let me know if you need more photos. Only trade I would consider at this time is a KAC URX 4 wrench +/- cash depending on what you are buying

I was turning out of the gas station parking lot to go left. I looked both ways not seeing another vehicle and got clipped by a truck speeding. Witnesses told me the truck turned right at their light and was speeding my direction. If anyone is familiar, this is the parking lot at Bucees in alabama. It’s very poorly designed and I was informed by the police that they respond to accidents there all the time, two prior to mine that day. Also, because it’s a known accident area, the business has traffic control for this intersection. They were let go early that day. At what point is the business liable for anything? I heard Alabama is an at fault state so I believe I will be a percentage liable along with the truck. I want to know if it’s worth speaking to an attorney about the business being liable.

I often see nowadays the fandom commonly debating on how Anakin was and how the Jedi Order of the Prequels were. Usually, you'll see people going on about how Anakin was at fault for everything he did or that he was completely faultless in the matter. In terms of the Jedi, people often either make them out to be total good or being just as bad as the Sith. I find that strange that these are the most common positions because it's very easy for you to just take a middle ground.
Anakin Skywalker was a villain.
This does not need any explanation. Anakin as Darth Vader is made out to be the bad guy because he is; he's the right hand of the evilest man in the galaxy. He was broken by this point, but at the end of the day, it is still Anakin. Accepting that Vader is just a broken version/different personality of himself rather than a separate person is something Anakin needs in order to redeem himself; he needs to accept that he has done nefarious acts as Vader.
Anakin Skywalker was a victim.

• Anakin has been under Palpatine's grasp ever since he was a child ("We will watch your career with great interest"), and when Palpatine talks to Anakin about Anakin's first assignment in AOTC, it is very obvious that they have been around each other for a while with Anakin treating him as an uncle or father almost. Though his killing of the Tusken Raiders is often seen as his first step to the Dark Side, he was already compromised since he got there at the age of 9.
• Anakin as a 9-year-old was demeaned for fearing for his mother, something that is completely natural. When Anakin is grown up and asks for their (Yoda's) help, they have no better advice than to tell him to move on and accept it, which may be correct but doesn't make for good emotional advice. To be fair to Yoda, he probably grew up with people passing away left, right, and center, so it is reasonable for him to think this way; that still doesn't make it good advice for Anakin though.
• Anakin was still a child when Palpatine first started manipulating him. Bear in mind, Anakin is not at fault for this as he is still a child and thus under the responsibility of a guardian who failed to protect him. That guardian is obviously the Jedi Order.

The Jedi Order was good but heavily flawed.
The Jedi is still generally good:

• They are fighting the Sith, which are evidently the bad guys.
• They are generally compassionate towards others.
• They taught people about the Light Side, which is definitely meant to be the good in Star Wars.

The Jedi display very cultish or red flag behaviors:

• They are unwilling to train certain people because they are "too old" and their future is unclear, but this doesn't make a lot of sense; if their future is unclear, why not take them in so you can lead them to the light? It's certainly better than risking them turning to the Dark Side.
• They are unaccepting of attachment. Most people will think that "attachment" means unhealthy relationships, but the Jedi clearly define it in the layman's terms: deep bonds with family and friends. This is supported by the fact that Anakin was not allowed to see Shmi, and in Legends, Shmi actually sent a letter to the Jedi Temple to inform Anakin that she was freed and invite him to her wedding, yet the Jedi Temple turned it away. Additionally, Anakin was legally not allowed to marry Padmé; Anakin was scared of getting in trouble because he was going to get in trouble, not because he was paranoid. Though he wasn't legally allowed to marry Padmé, there was nothing wrong with bedding her. Also, as a side note, most people talk about how detachment (moving on) is what the Jedi encouraged, but in order to detach, you need to be allowed to attach first.
• The Jedi allow sex but not marriage, so this is not a celibacy thing. Most people like to treat this as a little joke but when actually put into perspective, this is a massive red flag. In the eyes of the Jedi, the main issue with Anakin wasn't that he was sharing a bed with Padmé; it is that he loved her enough to stay for breakfast the following day. They basically view sex as some sort of commodity and tolerate it because it doesn't threaten a Jedi's loyalty to the regime, but actually forming deep bonds with those they have sex with does.
• All of these combined is ultimately why the Jedi Order doesn't accept children; children or anyone older have lived a life outside of the order and thus cannot be easily indoctrinated and are likely to deeply care about people outside of it. Sure, they can leave, but they won't have anyone to fall back to because they are completely disconnected from their family; they might have some token connection to their birth culture and skills necessary for independence, but they are all alone.

On a narrative level, the idea that the Jedi Order was good but heavily flawed is also supported from the very beginning in the OT. Luke Skywalker, not the Jedi Order, is meant to be the ultimate hero and, by extension, the representation of good in Star Wars, and what does Luke do at the end of Return of the Jedi? He defies both the Sith and the Jedi by not only resisting the Dark Side but also saving his father. Luke still being a Jedi clearly implies that they are meant to be good, but Luke defying Obi-Wan and Yoda, representations of the Old Order, clearly implies that the old ways were flawed.
Anakin's story is meant to be an inversion of Luke's story, so we are meant to take the same lesson from a different perspective:

• Anakin's story is a story on how the suppression of human nature can corrupt genuine love and turn it into possessive love which leads to people doing terrible deeds for the ones they love.
• Luke's story is a story on how allowing it to flourish leads to people doing great deeds for the ones they love.

I ventured through the realm of the forgotten, a solitary wanderer treading the fringes of a world I could never truly call my own. Each step propelled me deeper into the heart of isolation, where extravagant condos belonging to the wealthy loomed on one side, and the impeccably groomed greens of an exclusive golf course stretched out on the other. Beyond was the sound, a channeled sea of islands and foggy weather. Sandwiched between them, an enigmatic patch of forest concealed its secrets, a barrier between opulence and the untamed.
A bone-chilling fog rolled in, veiling the nearby islands in an eerie cloak of mystery. The islands, silent and enigmatic, whispered their secrets to those who dared listen. But on this night, I had more immediate concerns that demanded my attention.
My footsteps led me towards what I knew was my path.
The forest itself seemed out of place, a remnant of untamed wilderness amidst the refined elegance of the condos and the pristine golf course. It was a forgotten corner of nature, hidden away from prying eyes, its secrets locked within its ancient trees and shadowy depths.
It was within this eerie thicket, nestled amidst the extravagant neighborhood and the tranquil sea adorned with fog-shrouded islands, that I stumbled upon a chilling discovery. Max, my loyal canine companion who had accompanied me on countless escapades, led me to a hidden grave. A heavy air of unease settled around us, and a shiver ran down my spine, for I realized I had inadvertently stepped into a dark and foreboding nightmare. Some nightmares are not cleared away in the morning light.
The forest floor was strewn with golf balls, their presence a strange incongruity against the backdrop of towering trees and decaying foliage. But it was the horror that awaited me that truly shattered any sense of normalcy. As Max began to unearth the enigma hidden beneath the earth, an ominous atmosphere descended upon our surroundings, setting the warming orchestra of my thoughts for a descent into madness.
Max began scratching at the ground, his paws kicking up small clouds of dirt. I watched him with trepidation, unsure of what he had stumbled upon. And then, the truth emerged amidst the chaos of his excavation. The forest floor, already littered with golf balls, revealed an even more unsettling sight—a skeletal hand, its bony fingers clutching a weathered club.
As Max continued to dig, my unease grew, and I could no longer ignore the foreboding sense that something terrible was about to unfold. Suddenly, a chorus of guttural voices pierced through the silence, their chilling tones mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant crash of waves against the tranquil sea.
We huddled in the dense thicket, our hearts pounding against our ribcages like captive beasts. The air grew thick with fear and the stench of decay emanating from the newly discovered grave, just a few feet away. Max, his hackles raised, stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the abyss of the forest.
The feeling of being hunted made us hide, readied us to run. Somehow they knew that we had found their secret. Perhaps the hunters were as sensitive to fate as I.
The nightmare began with a hail of arrows, raining down from above like deadly specks of darkness. I dodged and weaved, desperately seeking cover from the onslaught. The masked men, their eyes burning with malevolence, closed in on me with flashlights in hand, casting grotesque shadows against the fog-laden trees.
A thrown bottle exploded at my feet, glass shattering and cutting into my flesh. The searing pain only fueled my adrenaline-fueled flight. The hunters pursued, their footsteps thundering behind me, accompanied by their mocking laughter and sadistic jeers.
Then, a gunshot shattered the night, its sound resonating through the forest. The other men shouted in anger, chastising the gunman for his recklessness. Chaos intensified, and I felt a tomahawk cartwheel past my ear, missing me by a hair's breadth.
In the midst of the chaos, my heart ached for Max. He had vanished into the depths of the woods, drawn away by something I couldn't fathom. I wanted to run, to escape the approaching vehicles and the hunters who sought to claim me, but I couldn't abandon my faithful companion.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity. The sound of vehicles grew louder, the hunters drawing closer. I was terrified and heartbroken, my mind torn between saving myself and waiting for Max.
Just as I was about to abandon hope, a shadow emerged from the gloom. It was Max, bounding toward me with a wagging tail and a glimmer of relief in his eyes. Tears of gratitude welled in my eyes as I called out to him, and he joined me, his presence reinforcing my resolve to flee this nightmarish pursuit.
With renewed determination, Max and I sprinted through the tangled underbrush, the relentless pursuit of the hunters driving us forward. Our hearts beat in sync as we raced against the encroaching darkness.
I followed Max, as he seemed to know the way - having run ahead and found our escape.
The forest seemed to conspire against us, its twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands, ready to ensnare us in its malevolent embrace. The undergrowth became a treacherous obstacle course, threatening to trip us up with every step. But Max, ever the loyal companion, guided me through the labyrinth of shadows, his senses honed to navigate this haunting realm.
As we sprinted, our breaths ragged and desperate, the pursuing hunters closed in, their footsteps growing louder and more menacing. The sounds of their jeers and taunts echoed through the trees, a symphony of sadism that chilled me to the core.
Then, as if the forest itself decided to aid our escape, a hidden trail materialized before us. It beckoned, a sliver of hope cutting through the suffocating darkness. With no time to spare, we veered onto the path, our feet pounding against the earth, propelled by a surge of adrenaline.
The trail wound deeper into the heart of the forgotten forest, twisting and turning like a serpent, as if playing a wicked game with our pursuers. Shadows danced around us, their elongated forms whispering malevolent secrets. The air grew colder, biting into my skin, and an otherworldly hush settled over the land, as if the very essence of nature held its breath, aware of the horror unfolding within its domain.
A fog reached up from the cliffs as we ran under the open moonlight. We were exposed to our predators, yet the fog came and made us invisible to them. As we reached the other side of the cliffs and more forest, the seaside abandoned us and the fog retreated naturally.
As we raced along the path, the distant sound of crashing waves began to fade, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the haunting calls of nocturnal creatures. Fear and exhaustion threatened to overtake us, but the thought of what awaited us at the hands of the hunters fueled our determination.
The path abruptly opened up into a clearing, bathed in an ethereal glow. Moonlight filtered through a gap in the dense foliage, casting an otherworldly radiance on a weathered stone structure that stood at the clearing's center. It was a forgotten shrine, forgotten by time and those who once paid homage to its mysterious deity.
A surge of both trepidation and desperate hope coursed through me as I realized that this shrine might hold the key to our salvation. With no time to second-guess, we approached the ancient structure, its moss-covered stones seemingly pulsating with an unknown energy.
As I stepped onto the sacred ground, an unsettling stillness fell over the clearing. Max's hackles rose, his gaze fixated on the shrine's mossy entrance. A primal instinct warned us of the ancient forces at play, but we had come too far to turn back.
Summoning all the courage within me, I pushed open the heavy stone door, revealing a chamber shrouded in darkness. A chill wind swept through the entrance, carrying whispers of forgotten incantations and the scent of decay.
With hesitant steps, we ventured into the unknown depths of the shrine, our hearts pounding in our chests. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating us with a weighty anticipation. The air grew dense with an ancient power, the residue of rituals long forgotten.
A dim light flickered at the center of the chamber, drawing us closer like moths to a flame. We stood trembling, almost forgetting our dire escape. Max began a low growl that broke into a frightened whine.
From the depths of the chamber, a haunting wail erupted, resonating with the agony of centuries past. Shadows coalesced into a towering figure, its eyes blazing with an otherworldly fire. It was the wrathful spirit of the forest itself, determined to protect its secrets at any cost.
Max barked, a valiant act of defiance in the face of an unstoppable force. I stood my ground, clutching my pack, and mustered all the courage I had left. In a trembling voice, I spoke words of remorse and reverence, offering appeasement to the vengeful spirit.
"We're drawn here...to see the grave...to escape its makers."
A hush fell over the chamber as the deity listened, its wrath subsiding, if only momentarily. In a voice that echoed through my mind, it issued a warning—a warning to never return to this forsaken realm, to leave the secrets of the forgotten forest buried in the past.
It wasn't in words, it was just a feeling. I knew what it wanted, and so did Max. It had made itself clear. It would spare us only if we abandoned our trespasses.
With a final glance back at the shrine, Max and I fled, propelled by a newfound urgency. The pursuing hunters were nowhere to be seen, as if swallowed by the very darkness they sought to unleash upon us.
As we emerged from the clutches of the haunted forest, the first rays of morning painted the sky, casting a golden hue upon our weary faces. We had escaped the clutches of the forgotten, forever marked by the consequences of horror that we had personally experienced.

I ventured through the realm of the forgotten, a solitary wanderer treading the fringes of a world I could never truly call my own. Each step propelled me deeper into the heart of isolation, where extravagant condos belonging to the wealthy loomed on one side, and the impeccably groomed greens of an exclusive golf course stretched out on the other. Beyond was the sound, a channeled sea of islands and foggy weather. Sandwiched between them, an enigmatic patch of forest concealed its secrets, a barrier between opulence and the untamed.
A bone-chilling fog rolled in, veiling the nearby islands in an eerie cloak of mystery. The islands, silent and enigmatic, whispered their secrets to those who dared listen. But on this night, I had more immediate concerns that demanded my attention.
My footsteps led me towards what I knew was my path.
The forest itself seemed out of place, a remnant of untamed wilderness amidst the refined elegance of the condos and the pristine golf course. It was a forgotten corner of nature, hidden away from prying eyes, its secrets locked within its ancient trees and shadowy depths.
It was within this eerie thicket, nestled amidst the extravagant neighborhood and the tranquil sea adorned with fog-shrouded islands, that I stumbled upon a chilling discovery. Max, my loyal canine companion who had accompanied me on countless escapades, led me to a hidden grave. A heavy air of unease settled around us, and a shiver ran down my spine, for I realized I had inadvertently stepped into a dark and foreboding nightmare. Some nightmares are not cleared away in the morning light.
The forest floor was strewn with golf balls, their presence a strange incongruity against the backdrop of towering trees and decaying foliage. But it was the horror that awaited me that truly shattered any sense of normalcy. As Max began to unearth the enigma hidden beneath the earth, an ominous atmosphere descended upon our surroundings, setting the warming orchestra of my thoughts for a descent into madness.
Max began scratching at the ground, his paws kicking up small clouds of dirt. I watched him with trepidation, unsure of what he had stumbled upon. And then, the truth emerged amidst the chaos of his excavation. The forest floor, already littered with golf balls, revealed an even more unsettling sight—a skeletal hand, its bony fingers clutching a weathered club.
As Max continued to dig, my unease grew, and I could no longer ignore the foreboding sense that something terrible was about to unfold. Suddenly, a chorus of guttural voices pierced through the silence, their chilling tones mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant crash of waves against the tranquil sea.
We huddled in the dense thicket, our hearts pounding against our ribcages like captive beasts. The air grew thick with fear and the stench of decay emanating from the newly discovered grave, just a few feet away. Max, his hackles raised, stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the abyss of the forest.
The feeling of being hunted made us hide, readied us to run. Somehow they knew that we had found their secret. Perhaps the hunters were as sensitive to fate as I.
The nightmare began with a hail of arrows, raining down from above like deadly specks of darkness. I dodged and weaved, desperately seeking cover from the onslaught. The masked men, their eyes burning with malevolence, closed in on me with flashlights in hand, casting grotesque shadows against the fog-laden trees.
A thrown bottle exploded at my feet, glass shattering and cutting into my flesh. The searing pain only fueled my adrenaline-fueled flight. The hunters pursued, their footsteps thundering behind me, accompanied by their mocking laughter and sadistic jeers.
Then, a gunshot shattered the night, its sound resonating through the forest. The other men shouted in anger, chastising the gunman for his recklessness. Chaos intensified, and I felt a tomahawk cartwheel past my ear, missing me by a hair's breadth.
In the midst of the chaos, my heart ached for Max. He had vanished into the depths of the woods, drawn away by something I couldn't fathom. I wanted to run, to escape the approaching vehicles and the hunters who sought to claim me, but I couldn't abandon my faithful companion.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity. The sound of vehicles grew louder, the hunters drawing closer. I was terrified and heartbroken, my mind torn between saving myself and waiting for Max.
Just as I was about to abandon hope, a shadow emerged from the gloom. It was Max, bounding toward me with a wagging tail and a glimmer of relief in his eyes. Tears of gratitude welled in my eyes as I called out to him, and he joined me, his presence reinforcing my resolve to flee this nightmarish pursuit.
With renewed determination, Max and I sprinted through the tangled underbrush, the relentless pursuit of the hunters driving us forward. Our hearts beat in sync as we raced against the encroaching darkness.
I followed Max, as he seemed to know the way - having run ahead and found our escape.
The forest seemed to conspire against us, its twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands, ready to ensnare us in its malevolent embrace. The undergrowth became a treacherous obstacle course, threatening to trip us up with every step. But Max, ever the loyal companion, guided me through the labyrinth of shadows, his senses honed to navigate this haunting realm.
As we sprinted, our breaths ragged and desperate, the pursuing hunters closed in, their footsteps growing louder and more menacing. The sounds of their jeers and taunts echoed through the trees, a symphony of sadism that chilled me to the core.
Then, as if the forest itself decided to aid our escape, a hidden trail materialized before us. It beckoned, a sliver of hope cutting through the suffocating darkness. With no time to spare, we veered onto the path, our feet pounding against the earth, propelled by a surge of adrenaline.
The trail wound deeper into the heart of the forgotten forest, twisting and turning like a serpent, as if playing a wicked game with our pursuers. Shadows danced around us, their elongated forms whispering malevolent secrets. The air grew colder, biting into my skin, and an otherworldly hush settled over the land, as if the very essence of nature held its breath, aware of the horror unfolding within its domain.
A fog reached up from the cliffs as we ran under the open moonlight. We were exposed to our predators, yet the fog came and made us invisible to them. As we reached the other side of the cliffs and more forest, the seaside abandoned us and the fog retreated naturally.
As we raced along the path, the distant sound of crashing waves began to fade, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the haunting calls of nocturnal creatures. Fear and exhaustion threatened to overtake us, but the thought of what awaited us at the hands of the hunters fueled our determination.
The path abruptly opened up into a clearing, bathed in an ethereal glow. Moonlight filtered through a gap in the dense foliage, casting an otherworldly radiance on a weathered stone structure that stood at the clearing's center. It was a forgotten shrine, forgotten by time and those who once paid homage to its mysterious deity.
A surge of both trepidation and desperate hope coursed through me as I realized that this shrine might hold the key to our salvation. With no time to second-guess, we approached the ancient structure, its moss-covered stones seemingly pulsating with an unknown energy.
As I stepped onto the sacred ground, an unsettling stillness fell over the clearing. Max's hackles rose, his gaze fixated on the shrine's mossy entrance. A primal instinct warned us of the ancient forces at play, but we had come too far to turn back.
Summoning all the courage within me, I pushed open the heavy stone door, revealing a chamber shrouded in darkness. A chill wind swept through the entrance, carrying whispers of forgotten incantations and the scent of decay.
With hesitant steps, we ventured into the unknown depths of the shrine, our hearts pounding in our chests. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating us with a weighty anticipation. The air grew dense with an ancient power, the residue of rituals long forgotten.
A dim light flickered at the center of the chamber, drawing us closer like moths to a flame. We stood trembling, almost forgetting our dire escape. Max began a low growl that broke into a frightened whine.
From the depths of the chamber, a haunting wail erupted, resonating with the agony of centuries past. Shadows coalesced into a towering figure, its eyes blazing with an otherworldly fire. It was the wrathful spirit of the forest itself, determined to protect its secrets at any cost.
Max barked, a valiant act of defiance in the face of an unstoppable force. I stood my ground, clutching my pack, and mustered all the courage I had left. In a trembling voice, I spoke words of remorse and reverence, offering appeasement to the vengeful spirit.
"We're drawn here...to see the grave...to escape its makers."
A hush fell over the chamber as the deity listened, its wrath subsiding, if only momentarily. In a voice that echoed through my mind, it issued a warning—a warning to never return to this forsaken realm, to leave the secrets of the forgotten forest buried in the past.
It wasn't in words, it was just a feeling. I knew what it wanted, and so did Max. It had made itself clear. It would spare us only if we abandoned our trespasses.
With a final glance back at the shrine, Max and I fled, propelled by a newfound urgency. The pursuing hunters were nowhere to be seen, as if swallowed by the very darkness they sought to unleash upon us.
As we emerged from the clutches of the haunted forest, the first rays of morning painted the sky, casting a golden hue upon our weary faces. We had escaped the clutches of the forgotten, forever marked by the consequences of horror that we had personally experienced.

I ventured through the realm of the forgotten, a solitary wanderer treading the fringes of a world I could never truly call my own. Each step propelled me deeper into the heart of isolation, where extravagant condos belonging to the wealthy loomed on one side, and the impeccably groomed greens of an exclusive golf course stretched out on the other. Beyond was the sound, a channeled sea of islands and foggy weather. Sandwiched between them, an enigmatic patch of forest concealed its secrets, a barrier between opulence and the untamed.
A bone-chilling fog rolled in, veiling the nearby islands in an eerie cloak of mystery. The islands, silent and enigmatic, whispered their secrets to those who dared listen. But on this night, I had more immediate concerns that demanded my attention.
My footsteps led me towards what I knew was my path.
The forest itself seemed out of place, a remnant of untamed wilderness amidst the refined elegance of the condos and the pristine golf course. It was a forgotten corner of nature, hidden away from prying eyes, its secrets locked within its ancient trees and shadowy depths.
It was within this eerie thicket, nestled amidst the extravagant neighborhood and the tranquil sea adorned with fog-shrouded islands, that I stumbled upon a chilling discovery. Max, my loyal canine companion who had accompanied me on countless escapades, led me to a hidden grave. A heavy air of unease settled around us, and a shiver ran down my spine, for I realized I had inadvertently stepped into a dark and foreboding nightmare. Some nightmares are not cleared away in the morning light.
The forest floor was strewn with golf balls, their presence a strange incongruity against the backdrop of towering trees and decaying foliage. But it was the horror that awaited me that truly shattered any sense of normalcy. As Max began to unearth the enigma hidden beneath the earth, an ominous atmosphere descended upon our surroundings, setting the warming orchestra of my thoughts for a descent into madness.
Max began scratching at the ground, his paws kicking up small clouds of dirt. I watched him with trepidation, unsure of what he had stumbled upon. And then, the truth emerged amidst the chaos of his excavation. The forest floor, already littered with golf balls, revealed an even more unsettling sight—a skeletal hand, its bony fingers clutching a weathered club.
As Max continued to dig, my unease grew, and I could no longer ignore the foreboding sense that something terrible was about to unfold. Suddenly, a chorus of guttural voices pierced through the silence, their chilling tones mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant crash of waves against the tranquil sea.
We huddled in the dense thicket, our hearts pounding against our ribcages like captive beasts. The air grew thick with fear and the stench of decay emanating from the newly discovered grave, just a few feet away. Max, his hackles raised, stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the abyss of the forest.
The feeling of being hunted made us hide, readied us to run. Somehow they knew that we had found their secret. Perhaps the hunters were as sensitive to fate as I.
The nightmare began with a hail of arrows, raining down from above like deadly specks of darkness. I dodged and weaved, desperately seeking cover from the onslaught. The masked men, their eyes burning with malevolence, closed in on me with flashlights in hand, casting grotesque shadows against the fog-laden trees.
A thrown bottle exploded at my feet, glass shattering and cutting into my flesh. The searing pain only fueled my adrenaline-fueled flight. The hunters pursued, their footsteps thundering behind me, accompanied by their mocking laughter and sadistic jeers.
Then, a gunshot shattered the night, its sound resonating through the forest. The other men shouted in anger, chastising the gunman for his recklessness. Chaos intensified, and I felt a tomahawk cartwheel past my ear, missing me by a hair's breadth.
In the midst of the chaos, my heart ached for Max. He had vanished into the depths of the woods, drawn away by something I couldn't fathom. I wanted to run, to escape the approaching vehicles and the hunters who sought to claim me, but I couldn't abandon my faithful companion.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity. The sound of vehicles grew louder, the hunters drawing closer. I was terrified and heartbroken, my mind torn between saving myself and waiting for Max.
Just as I was about to abandon hope, a shadow emerged from the gloom. It was Max, bounding toward me with a wagging tail and a glimmer of relief in his eyes. Tears of gratitude welled in my eyes as I called out to him, and he joined me, his presence reinforcing my resolve to flee this nightmarish pursuit.
With renewed determination, Max and I sprinted through the tangled underbrush, the relentless pursuit of the hunters driving us forward. Our hearts beat in sync as we raced against the encroaching darkness.
I followed Max, as he seemed to know the way - having run ahead and found our escape.
The forest seemed to conspire against us, its twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands, ready to ensnare us in its malevolent embrace. The undergrowth became a treacherous obstacle course, threatening to trip us up with every step. But Max, ever the loyal companion, guided me through the labyrinth of shadows, his senses honed to navigate this haunting realm.
As we sprinted, our breaths ragged and desperate, the pursuing hunters closed in, their footsteps growing louder and more menacing. The sounds of their jeers and taunts echoed through the trees, a symphony of sadism that chilled me to the core.
Then, as if the forest itself decided to aid our escape, a hidden trail materialized before us. It beckoned, a sliver of hope cutting through the suffocating darkness. With no time to spare, we veered onto the path, our feet pounding against the earth, propelled by a surge of adrenaline.
The trail wound deeper into the heart of the forgotten forest, twisting and turning like a serpent, as if playing a wicked game with our pursuers. Shadows danced around us, their elongated forms whispering malevolent secrets. The air grew colder, biting into my skin, and an otherworldly hush settled over the land, as if the very essence of nature held its breath, aware of the horror unfolding within its domain.
A fog reached up from the cliffs as we ran under the open moonlight. We were exposed to our predators, yet the fog came and made us invisible to them. As we reached the other side of the cliffs and more forest, the seaside abandoned us and the fog retreated naturally.
As we raced along the path, the distant sound of crashing waves began to fade, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the haunting calls of nocturnal creatures. Fear and exhaustion threatened to overtake us, but the thought of what awaited us at the hands of the hunters fueled our determination.
The path abruptly opened up into a clearing, bathed in an ethereal glow. Moonlight filtered through a gap in the dense foliage, casting an otherworldly radiance on a weathered stone structure that stood at the clearing's center. It was a forgotten shrine, forgotten by time and those who once paid homage to its mysterious deity.
A surge of both trepidation and desperate hope coursed through me as I realized that this shrine might hold the key to our salvation. With no time to second-guess, we approached the ancient structure, its moss-covered stones seemingly pulsating with an unknown energy.
As I stepped onto the sacred ground, an unsettling stillness fell over the clearing. Max's hackles rose, his gaze fixated on the shrine's mossy entrance. A primal instinct warned us of the ancient forces at play, but we had come too far to turn back.
Summoning all the courage within me, I pushed open the heavy stone door, revealing a chamber shrouded in darkness. A chill wind swept through the entrance, carrying whispers of forgotten incantations and the scent of decay.
With hesitant steps, we ventured into the unknown depths of the shrine, our hearts pounding in our chests. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating us with a weighty anticipation. The air grew dense with an ancient power, the residue of rituals long forgotten.
A dim light flickered at the center of the chamber, drawing us closer like moths to a flame. We stood trembling, almost forgetting our dire escape. Max began a low growl that broke into a frightened whine.
From the depths of the chamber, a haunting wail erupted, resonating with the agony of centuries past. Shadows coalesced into a towering figure, its eyes blazing with an otherworldly fire. It was the wrathful spirit of the forest itself, determined to protect its secrets at any cost.
Max barked, a valiant act of defiance in the face of an unstoppable force. I stood my ground, clutching my pack, and mustered all the courage I had left. In a trembling voice, I spoke words of remorse and reverence, offering appeasement to the vengeful spirit.
"We're drawn here...to see the grave...to escape its makers."
A hush fell over the chamber as the deity listened, its wrath subsiding, if only momentarily. In a voice that echoed through my mind, it issued a warning—a warning to never return to this forsaken realm, to leave the secrets of the forgotten forest buried in the past.
It wasn't in words, it was just a feeling. I knew what it wanted, and so did Max. It had made itself clear. It would spare us only if we abandoned our trespasses.
With a final glance back at the shrine, Max and I fled, propelled by a newfound urgency. The pursuing hunters were nowhere to be seen, as if swallowed by the very darkness they sought to unleash upon us.
As we emerged from the clutches of the haunted forest, the first rays of morning painted the sky, casting a golden hue upon our weary faces. We had escaped the clutches of the forgotten, forever marked by the consequences of horror that we had personally experienced.

It was hard work pushing papers down the long bench. Mr. Uoka found himself drinking tea and eating nutrient scnes with countless other bureaucrats. Suddenly, however, he found himself suddenly eating scones with Mr. Hay Rekk, and didn't quite know what to say. all of his imagined witty barbs and urbane comments disappeared when what remained of the man looked down on him, sneering through his photoreceptors. 'Hatarti.'
'It's-well-'
'Come into the damn conference room.'
Mr. Uoka practically tripped over himself to follow. Rekk kicked a number of people out of the conference room, stuffed a cipher secretary into a chair, and then began. 'Harati. We're fucked. You're fucked. I'm fucked. And I don't even have a penis or a butthole, that's how fucked we area. Nearly five billion...fucking...insane. Your trade bloc going down the drain. You think you can help. Make it quick, or I'll make it happen somehow.'
'Thank you, Chancellor. I...um. Well...this is a very complicated situation, as you well know, of course-'
Rekk sagged. 'Uoka.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I know. I know how your fucking kind talk-'
'Are-are you saying that I am lesser because I am a-?!'
'Stelliberal? Yeah. Fuck you, lib.'
'...oh.'
'Short words. Give your point. We don't have much time.'
'Yes. Rekk—we need market development. Not maket-lead or centric—development of the market itself. Not just the places-'
'Cashification. Specialization. Less farmers.'
'Yes-precisely. No more barter. More goods moving through markets. Less subsistence.'
'Wagies, then. Townies, or urban poor.'
'I support urbanization, sir.'
'Don't call me sir.'
'Ok. Urbanization. Towns cannot grow the requisite numbers to break out into proper cosmopolitanism.'
'What if we can get them commuting?'
'A good idea, if done, sir!'
'I'm gonna do it. The cities are getting cargo and people rail. Fancy people rail. Good people rail. Make them get around and keep mixing.'
'Wonderful! Perhaps they might have sports leagues-'
'Only if they have riot divisions.' 'Tragic, sirr-Chancellor.'
'Rekk. Liberal.'
‘What about local commuting, to bind the cities and townies into one greater mass?’
‘I’m working on it. Gonna do freight lines out, and if they don’t attack the trains, then we’ll move on maybe getting some of them on them. Cargo stakeholders first, then maybe passengers. That might take a generation, but I’m going to make it happen.’
'You should accelerate cashification.'
'I'm trying. Right now, we’re slowly doing money storage. Making local banks. Moving money still needs to be figured out. I can't fucking even let them consider paper, they'll go nuts.'
'Armored cars and trains, local banks being able to do deposit transfers? That kind of thing?'
'Armored trains are rolling out now. Banks are gonna get fucking permitted at some point. Their majesties want strong basic regulations. It'll go slow, but the problem is how heavy that shit is.'
'Yes, indeed. Perhaps one can make the coins self-lighten?'
'Good idea, lemme write that down.'
'Here is a white paper, chancellor.'
'Got it. Next. Fusion.'
'Yes. Fusion. Civil fusion. The power of a star. Will they get electricity?'
'Everything is electric for the clones already. Fixed the web, too. For the peasants? Fuck no. We're gonna dole out miracles slowly so they don't melt down street lamps to make into weapons. Biggest one is atmospheric nitrogen fixing. We'll give em superstitious fertilizer, not some crap. Use lightning banks. We're also gonna light up all the cities, and electrify all public buildings and entertainment areas. The towns are gonna have a slow drip of things, very slow. Elite exposure first, gauge fuckery. If they act up, beat them smart.'
'There's no personal incentive right now to electrify, Rekk. Outside of the workplace, are you trying to generate mass demand?'
'Yeah.' Rekk looked pensive. 'Get the kids. Get the house managers…err…wives. That’s what they’re called. Make work-life easier.'
'Perhaps you might offer rental machinery, to ease the-'
'...you have another white paper?'
'Indeed, Chancellor.'
'Give it. What else?'
'Well, there is the Shining Lord's legacy of...advanced sciences.'
Rekk sighed. 'Yeah. Fuckers. Peasants...we were wrong. Couldn't see. They'd been made weak many years ago, before we were made. Broken people. Lost their chances. Their wants. Their selves. You speak about consumers. Buyers. Wanters. Needers. These people can't want or need anything that the Golden Ones said was bad.' 'They can act on their own.'
'Yeah. Everything Kweens did is stuff they'd do on their own. Build them up comfortably. Make them feel better. Safer. Not terrified. You seen them.'
Mr. Uoka had. 'They need to be able to want again. Or to recognize that they have needs.'
'Yeah. No more fear. No more pain. No empty bellies, or sick ones.'
'They need healthcare.'
Rekk tried to sneer. 'Working on that. Real busy. You think I got a headshrinker?'
‘I think it would help.’
‘I got drugs. Why don’t you take some?’
Mr. Uoka reminded the Chancellor that he was a liontaur, and that clone drugs wouldn’t work on him. Chancellor Rekk reminded the consultant that he had tried clone drugs and that they’d worked. Both stared at each other for a moment before moving on.
‘Healthcare, Rekk. Healthcare. They need it. On all worlds’
‘The Sunforgelands are unfucking themselves.’
‘I’ve watched them begin to separate from Kabria and develop their own identity. Of course, they will not be one for quite some time. If peasant marketisation truly fails, then they will be the obvious backstop.’
‘Yeah. But I’m not counting on them. We’re gonna use fusion electricity here to make a lot of drugs for the cities. Really pump them up. Introduction will take a while. The cities will export them to the townies.’
‘But why will the townies even go to the cities?’
‘Unno. It’ll be easy. Maybe get some money. Maybe come back and work for more money and clout. Farming will keep getting easier, so less people for less farms.’
‘Will you truly make an effort to make powered farming equipment common again, Rekk? Or will you be defeated by someone being afraid of tractors?’
‘We won’t. But we will make fuel at home. And we will figure out which of the fucked up mosses and weird foxes won’t be killing people. Seeds-’
‘The biotechnology of the Shining Lords persists. But how much does it, truly?’
‘Enough for us to gather it up and use it, though. Against them. We will use their seeds, and their bugs, and their birds, and we will force them to give us honey and nectar and grain. And we’ll keep em in hives and tree trunks and in farmlands and in those fucking makeshift swamps. And we’ll eat em. Tear the head off and suck out the guts until the little legs kick, kick, kick…’ Rekk seemed to be having more fun thinking about torturing the old animals of the Shining Lords than anything else.
‘...do they have…sufficient nutritional value?’
‘Yes. Taste like shit.’
Mr. Uoka considered saying that if the clones thought something tasted like shit, it truly did, but he kept that thought to himself.
‘How much will you be allowing them to see?’
‘All of it, cause fuck em. Let’s scare 'em straight.’
‘...that is an unusual motivation, Rekk. But I admire your commitment.’
‘Yeah, yeah. We’ll knock in some gardens with nice plants that make medicines and antibodies and stuff, and we’ll give em nutritional supplements-’
‘And birth control.’
‘Yeah, good point. Don’t want too many of them. Abortions should be cheap, fast, and easy.’
‘And birth control, Chancellor.’
‘You mean like for-before they screw?’
‘Yes. It will lead to a significant amount of independence for women–I don’t think the Shining Lords allowed anything beyond the gender binary, did they–and break up some of the core cycles of reproduction with an Epistocided people.’
‘Put the paper on the table.’
Mr. Uoka obliged.
‘They’ll shit their pants, Haraati-’
‘Hatari.’
‘And we’ll make em clean up the shit, and dry it, and use it for fucking manure. I will drag these dense ass motherfuckers-literally half the goddamn time-to decency, whether they like it or not. They’ll farm the land, and they’ll pay taxes, and they’ll buy regional, and they’ll fucking like it. And if they cause problems, Mr. Uoka, I’m going to-’
‘To show them some fucking compassion. They’re scared children. That’s what they are deep down.’
‘No, we’re going to give the fuckers the baton and ten years fixing hedgerows with powered equipment.’
‘During the riots, I took shelter in a building with some clone functionaries–Happies, a few Biggies or specials. A number of peasants…I’m not sure, must have been about 60…broke in. They were going to burn the place down around us, and I was scared. They were ignoring commands, and we were prepared to shoot them, and then–well–I didn’t want to shoot them. So I roared. And threw a chair. They all fled. Not a shot fired. They were that easily scared off. You don’t have to beat them. You don’t need to be harsh all the time. Spare them, Rekk. I’m not asking for absolution, but don’t be like your makers. They’ll be better if they can relax comfortably; they’ve tasted a bit of safety with all of the turmoil. Let them keep eating.’
‘...target the stunting, huh?’
‘Above all else. The Shining Leeches enslaved-’
Rekk cut off Mr. Uoka with peels of laughter. He enjoyed the multifaceted implications of that insult: weaknesses, dependency on others, ineffectiveness, false bravado–and the chance to cut the stress. Eventually, he got back on topic.
‘...they used biology to enslave ourselves. We use biology to free ourselves. But this doesn’t cover the magic.’
‘It’s degraded a lot over time, right? And her majesty is satisfying the demands of many of the laws. So there should be no problem.’
‘I hope so. There’s…big changes coming. Stuff I can’t reveal to you. Yeah, the investors will like it. But it’s going to be big, Hattie.’
‘What is it?’ Mr. Uoka overlooked his name being messed up again.
‘The beginning of the end.’

Gwzuc complained to his father for what felt like the 10th time about being pulled out of school for an entire week to travel to Demila, a backwater planet just so they could visit on a specific date . His father unrelentingly told him once again “This is an important date for myself and the humans, they call it Memorial Day, a day to celebrate and mourn those lost in the line of duty. Of which the humans have lost plenty in the War of Imperial Aggression. Hopefully you will understand once our day has concluded.”
Krlinn Vol'jin was a former Captain in the Federation Armed Forces, being medically discharged after the slaughter of Demilia which saw Federation ground forces being reduced to a mere 20% of what was sent to the planet in an effort to stop the Tuvili Empire from gaining a valuable stronghold in the fight for the Federations survival.
Krlinn and his son Gwzuc arrived at the memorials entrance and proceeded to a hallway immediately to their left, Krlinn already knew exactly where to go, having been here countless times before. Gwzuc on the other hand only got a quick glance around, the wings of the memorial seemingly dedicated species by species with Humanity’s being the largest.
On the way over Krlinn started to speak to his son using a tone Gwzuc was all too familiar with, it meant that his father was about to start one of his famous lectors and not even a charging Curbat could stop him, with nothing better to do Gwzuc listened while walking, his father choosing to not take the speed assist walkways in an effort to have more time to make his point before reaching their destination.
“Now son I know that you have heard all of this throughout your lifetime but I feel the need to reiterate it due to what you will see shortly. Humans arrived on the galactic scene a couple of centuries ago and ever since then have been an average species in our great federation, not the strongest, nor the most intelligent, no, Humanity simply exists in most aspects of life.” At this point they reach around the midway point where banners from Terra, the Humans homeworld are flown along with a statue, Krlinn stops them both and walks to the statue before looking his son in the eye. “But Son, do not be mistaken when you look a Human in the eye and see nothing but steely resolve looking back at you. Know in your deepest hearts that something somewhere should be terrified.” At this point Gwzuc looks confused at the statue, it appears to be a human male wearing firefighting gear he looks at the plaque in front of the statue which reads
“Dedicated to the brave men and woman, firefighters, police, and EMT’s who lost their lives while helping the citizens of Demila during the war, costing many of their own lives but saving countless others in the process.”
“But I don’t get it. Why die for others instead of saving themselves?” Gwzuc said quite frankly while looking at his father.
Krlinn sighed, the question being poised one he was expecting but was still hoping to all together avoid. “That question is what we are here to answer today. Humans are unique in the federation, most species have an instinct for self preservation, our many cultures only serve to reinforce that instinct. For that matter the human’s have that same instinct, the difference being they can turn it off. That steely eyed look I mentioned earlier? That’s how you know if the “switch” has been flipped in a human’s head.” Krlinn brought his son up to start the walk back down to get to the exhibit that was their goal. In the meantime he could see Gwzuc’s coils phasing in his head as he was slowly starting to understand why his father never talked about his experiences in the war.
“You know son, the humans almost never made it to front line combat units” Krlinn said to his son. His son looked at him surprised and asked “How? They make up almost half the Federation’s forces!” Krlinn replied “That came about partially because of the event’s here. For all the Federation’s upsides it’s bureaucracy is not one, most saw the humans lack of specialization and failure to excel at any one thing to mean that they were useless. While most humans in the Forces were relegated to backline support and logistics, or medical staff there were always a few every infantry company did see at least a few. Hell, one of the member’s on my headquarter’s staff was human.”
There was a long minute of silence following this, Gwzuc looked at his father who had the eyes of a person looking into the past remembering something Gwzuc knew better than to interrupt him when he got like this, after a minute they were at the front of the exhibit.
They had walked into a large hall with statues every 20 yards or so, while they hadn’t encountered anybody on the way to the hall due to them taking the non speed assisted path the hall was filled with people, while all species appeared to be represented it stood out to Gwzuc that the majority was of Humans which he thought odd, until he remembered what his father had told him. That this was a Holiday for the human’s one a day to remember and mourn those who had fallen.
“We could spend all day here looking at every memorial, but instead I want to focus on the Men and Women I personally knew and served with who helped me and others survive.” Krlinn said to his son, bringing him to the first statue, again without needing more than a second to gather his surroundings.
The first statue they came upon was of a woman saluting, the almost bronze statue was so detailed he could see the wrinkles around her eyes, evidently the picture this was molded after was taken of her facing that system's star. Krlinn tells Gwzuc “I will let the plaques do the talking, I didn't know the private well enough to add more information.” Gwzuc walked forward and saw two plaques starting with the one on the left having more and larger writing
“Here lies a remembrance to Private Livia Morrison, a medic who in the battle of Demilia at great risk to her own life ran across a battlefield in an effort to save two marines who were severely injured by an artillery shell. She ran over 300 meters while being actively engaged by combatants to reach the marines. At which point she provided life saving assistance and stabilized them. However after finishing her duties she heard cries coming from a short distance and while moving to provide them care she was hit by an artillery shell. Her bio-metric suit and helmet recorded her last words as “Get those Marines home” before shortly passing away from blood loss.” Gwzuc’s hearts were beating slightly just reading that, not imaging he could ever do something so dangerous. The second plaque seemed to be for information “Private Morrision received a battalion commendation for her heroic efforts. We thank her family for allowing her likeness to be used. It should be noted Morrision had only been stationed on Demila for two weeks when the attack began, it was her first posting out of training and her only.”
Krlinn quickly brought his son to another statue giving him barely enough time to absorb what he read before his father began to speak “This is Sergeant Rhett Dunlap, while I would not have considered us friends due to a myriad of reasons he was a good man, from what I hear those whose lives he saved donated the cost to get this statue built.” Gwzuc took a good look at the statue. It showed a short human male who one would call diminutive if not for the fact that his muscles made him look extremely stocky. The statue showed him in a kneeling position with a light machine gun in one hand, the other arm missing below the elbow, his uniform tattered and shrapnel sticking in all parts of him. Gwzuc started to read the quite long plaque
“Here lies Sergeant Dunlap depicted by request of his brothers in arms to show his final moments. The Sergeant was severely injured in an artillery blast resulting in his arm being blown off. It is noted when asked about it he told his superiors “Just a flesh wound” before laughing, A few moments later the imperials began another push and the Federation had to fall back or be enveloped. The Sergeant then picked up a machine gun and hoisted it onto a nearby wall before telling his platoon leader that he would cover the retreat. His platoon leader accepted, seeing no alternative. The Sergeant proceeded to hold off imperial forces single handedly for over 4 minutes resolution in his platoon making a full retreat with no casualties. For this Sergeant Dunlap was awarded a Titanium Novastar”
Krlinn put a hand on his son’s shoulder after seeing Gwzuc finish reading, startling his boy. His father spoke in an uncharacteristically quiet voice “I saw it you know. His final stand, we had a drone in the area to make sure the retreat went as smoothly as possible. He wouldn’t, couldn’t stop. Even when he ran out of ammo he pulled his knife out and used it. When we finally took that sector back his corpse was surrounded by imperial bodies. I shudder to imagine what he could have achieved without already being injured.” Come son there’s one more statue you need to see.
With that Krlinn brings his son to the final statue, which was also the largest and in place of honor in the middle of the room, it was a simple statue similar to the first one they went to showing a tall but skinny human male saluting, due to others in the room they must wait for a handful of minutes before being able to read this statue's plaque. This appears to be the only statue with an accompanying piece on display, it appears to be a name tag ripped off a military uniform that says “Saunders”. The entire wait, Gwzuc noticed his father had not said a word and appeared to be in his own world. Gwzuc read the plaque
“Here Lies lieutenant Caleb Saunders dubbed by many as “The Savior of Demila” whose actions caused a total rout of the Imperial forces on the planet during the Battle of Demila. While Federation forces were in a near collapse the lieutenant grabbed a targeting sensor and spent 12 hours sneaking into an Imperial Ammo facility in an effort to place the sensor in a way to be able to bring artillery accurately onto imperial lines from far off batteries. Helmet footage that was being transmitted to base showed that in the process of activating the sensors a patrol of Imperials found him. Instead of engaging the sensor and retreating he valiantly activated it while receiving multiple injuries, allowing said artillery to destroy the facility and cause a chain reaction destroying a large number of Imperial Assets at the cost of the Lieutenant’s life.”
Gwzuc quickly moved onto the second plaque his two hearts racing, a thought forming in his mind. “This statue was paid for and commissioned by the Federal Armed Forces. For them we thank the ability to remember Lieutenant Saunders. For his actions Saunders was awarded a Federation Star of the People, The federation’s highest military honor. We also thank Captain Krlinn Vol'jin for donating Saunders name tag. It is said he ripped it off before allowing Saunders to attempt the mission in an effort to ensure his sacrifice would not be forgotten.”
After reading the last sentence everything fell into place for Gwzuc who turned to his father, however before he could get a word out his father said “Some of the human’s have a term for this type of thing you know? That’s how damn common it is for them. They call it “Broken Arrow.”” His father motions his son to step away so others could read the plaque Gwzuc witnesses a sight so rare he forgot it possible his father was in tears. Full blown tears “Caleb was a damn good man you know. Had a wife and daughter, he was going to engineering school on the side, he had every reason to live. That’s how I learned about the human’s now famous look. That was the first time I saw it, you know? We were trying to set up a final line of defense, something, anything to slow the imperials down, buy time for civilians to evacuate, reinforcements to show, hell just praying anything would happen other than our deaths. All looked hopeless, we were in a staff planning meeting. When someone pointed out how close the ammo dump was to their motor pool. A glaring oversight but one an overconfident enemy makes. Saunders had made a comment that was true, if we could get one of our Targeting sensors on the building we could call in a strike to blow it up. The atmosphere and jamming made anything but direct positional targeting impossible, the device had to physically be at a location to be used. It made bombing near impossible for us and they knew it. Sadly we had no explosives to make use of.” Krlinn at this point took a minute to compose himself and finish his story. “We all agreed it would work, but no one would risk their lives like that, it just wasn’t done. Caleb finally said he would do it, I didn’t believe him however seeing the other human’s heorices I should have, and said ok to the plan thinking it was just bravado and he would back out. He just prepared his pack and sensor so I saw him off. When I saw that look in his eye, that look that meant he already knew he was dead and just waiting for it to happen, I thought for just a minute, maybe just maybe he would go through with it, so I took his nametag and sent him on his way. Not putting much stock into it succeeding goddess not even watching his helmet cam, that was until he broke comm discipline and his comm burst with the sound of gunshots and screams, until finally all he said with a grunt was “Standy for target acquisition”. Following that was one giant fireball a few minutes later…” Krlinn looked at his son after giving his son a minute to understand and absorb all of the information he was given. He felt guilty about being annoyed at his dad for taking out of school. After a while all he said was “I’m sorry” before they began to walk back down the hall, Gwzuc looking at every human present through a new lens, partially in awe, partially in fear of what they are capable of.
On the treadmill-like walkway back he heard his father say to himself a poem, but for the first time listening to the words and truly taking their meaning in.

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

His father finished his almost mechanical repeating of the poem before saying to his son “Human’s won’t throw their lives away, but they will sacrifice them if needed”
A/N This is my first time writing a short story like this since school, so I’m happy with any criticism. I do hope however you enjoy it! The end poem is not my own work as I hope you all know. All credit for that goes to Dylan Thomas the Poet.

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/FbID9vO
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