This is the beginning chapter of a long, space-opera sci-fi writing project I have been working on for several months now. I’m currently almost 60k words into it at the time of writing, and am planning on publishing it in full as a novel when I’m done, but I haven’t really shared it with anyone outside my immediate family and a couple friends.
…Normally, I’d post this type of thing on HFY, but in all honesty it doesn’t really paint humans in a very good light most of the time and focuses on the other species involved a for a majority of the time, so it wouldn’t really fit there.
Additionally, while the HASO-ness isn’t too obvious for a few chapters, I promise, we will get there in time.
I don’t know how often I’ll be uploading these, especially given that I’m still not done with it, and have little free time to spend on writing these days; all the same, you can expect plenty of entries over the next few weeks.
In the meantime, feel free to leave your thoughts, any constructive criticisms, etc in the comments. And as always, I hope you enjoy :)
——

CHAPTER 1

Her arm hurt.
She was so, so tired...
Her arm hurt.
She was numb to the cold at this point, but kept shivering anyway.
Her arm hurt.
The only thing close to heat that she felt was the inflammation that was serving to add more throbbing pain to her arm.
…Which hurt, in case that wasn’t clear.
She turned her head to look at it, wincing from the pain the movement caused. It was ugly to behold, with a ragged stab wound in the muscles of her forearm near the elbow that was still slowly trickling blood, but that wasn’t even the worst part of it. She knew from experience that the needle-sharp pain she felt with every slight movement meant that some bone in there- probably the radius or ulna- was also either hairline-fractured or broken entirely.
…And just in case you weren’t aware, fun fact:
It hurt.
A lot.
The pain was only exacerbated by the swollen tissues and irritation around the stab wound that she knew meant it was definitely infected- with what, she could only guess. Whatever it was, she could feel the fever it was causing having a desperate tug-of-war with the cold autumn air to determine her body temperature.
When she couldn’t stand to look at it any longer, she leaned her head back, resting it against the dew-filled grass of the ditch she was lying in and looking up at the star-filled night sky that was slowly lightening to that hue of dark indigo that meant dawn was close, but not quite there.
She used to think the stars were beautiful. But as she lay there, the dreadful memories of what had led to this moment playing over and over in her head… Suffice to say, nothing in this world or outside of it seemed beautiful anymore.
She put the aesthetics of the sky aside and instead struggled to focus her thoughts through the haze of fatigue and pain.
Dawn approaching… That has to mean I’ve been laying here… Jeez, it must be almost an entire day at this point. …I think. It hasn’t been multiple days, surely… Or maybe it’s been-
…Oh, to hell with it. I don’t even care at this point…
She was too tired to sleep, but in too much pain to move. Her brain was fogged from fatigue, and even more so from the constant screaming coming from her nerve endings, desperately trying to let her know that yes, something was very wrong with her arm, she got it, thanks for the message, you can stop now-
…But mostly, the fog stemmed from that draining emotional and mental exhaustion that came with periods of grief. A single tear ran down her face from her already overworked tear ducts, nearly reaching the bruises on her neck before it was wiped away by the shaky fingers of her good arm.
The sky would be there for her to look at later. She needed to try (yet again) to rest, just one more time.
“You know what they say,” she murmured to herself. “76th time’s the charm.”
Delirious with exhaustion and the fever as she was, she couldn’t help herself from chuckling at the thought. Her eyes, bloodshot and burning from the strain she had endured, lazily looked around at what few constellations she could recognize for one last time, and spotted the pattern of Orion in the night sky.
Hey big O, close the door on your way out, eh? I’m gonna try and take a snooze.
She snorted, wincing as she did.
…Finding my own jokes funny. Jesus, I am delirious…
She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, willing herself to please, please just go to sleep already, because sleep meant being unconscious, and being unconscious meant she could ignore the pain from her arm for a while. And to her surprise, she finally started drifting off. Her breath slowed, the fog visible in the cold air in front of her mouth coming less and less often as she drifted closer to the edge of unconsciousness.
As a result, she barely even heard the soft humming noise approaching, and almost didn’t feel herself being gently, almost imperceptibly lifted off the ground. When she noticed it, what parts of her mind that were still semi-conscious brushed it off as either a dream or hallucination, and slipped behind the wall of sleep…
…For all of two minutes. She wasn’t getting off that easy.
She was jolted awake by a sudden feeling of what could only be described as compression across her whole body, though “compression” hardly did it justice; It was as though she were being squeezed through a drinking straw. …Yet before she could react, the feeling was over.
Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a dimly-lit room, alive with that same strange humming noise from before. She crinkled her nose at the smell that assailed her nostrils. It was strange, like a combination of various industrial cleaners, engine grease, and ozone. She rubbed her eyelids before she groggily looked around, confused. Where was she? She turned her head and saw a very strange-looking machine that was seemingly floating in midair. She craned her neck, looking past it, and her eyes widened at what she saw glowing through a small, circular viewing window in the nearby wall.
Was that- …Earth?
She slowly, gingerly sat up, wincing from the protests her arm gave at her daring to do such a thing. It took everything in her, but she slowly dragged herself closer to the window, peering out at the planet slowly circling in the void below her. There was no doubt about it, that was Earth. She recognized North and South America, Greenland, even a portion of the northern Arctic. She could even see all the wildfires burning as a result of-
…Well, everything collectively hitting the fan in the past week.
Tilting her head, she could see the exterior of the… building? Satellite? Space station? …Whatever it was she was apparently on, that was outside the window. Gun-metal gray and covered in strange symbols in a language she didn’t recognize, it was unlike anything she’d seen before- and it wasn’t alone.
She saw several other similar… things, floating nearby. They ranged in size from the relatively small, around the size of a house, to absolutely massive ones that she estimated must be miles across. She shook her head in disbelief and laid her head back down on the cold metal floor.
Ok, scratch that, she was obviously still asleep; after all, this had to be the weirdest dream she’d ever had…
Suddenly, a scraping, screeching noise rang through the room, startling her. She looked around and saw a tall, lanky, shadowy figure entering the room they were in as it finished sliding open the metal door that was the source of the noise. Without warning, the room was aglow with a bright light from overhead, causing her to wince and close her eyes. She rubbed her eyelids again, trying to ignore the irritation the action caused, and looked back at the figure, eyes widening as they adjusted to the light- and then even wider, as she froze in place with a gasp at what she saw.
The… creature standing over her was like some horrific combination of a reptile and insect. Its frame was slim and bipedal, with limbs proportioned far longer than any normal human. It towered over her, easily seven feet tall or more. Its head was like that of a praying mantis minus the antennae, with three chameleon-like eyes. The first eye was symmetrically centered in the forehead, the other the two mirrored on the sides of its head where the temples on a human head would be, and all three were very intently focused on her. On its face was a glowing, bioluminescent set of growths all down the front, forming a v-shaped, curving pattern that almost looked like a deranged smile, but its real mouth hid behind a pair of razor-sharp mandibles on its jawline that clicked together a few times as she watched.
Its hide was dark gray and shiny, almost metallic, somewhere between reptilian scales and an insectoid carapace, and generally looked like it would be at home in an H.R. Giger painting. The bioluminescent growths on its face continued down to its torso in three vertical, parallel lines, growing larger as they went further down. Each gangly arm ended in four chitin-covered fingers, tipped with razor-sharp claws.
The only thing even remotely resembling clothing it was wearing was something that looked like a long skirt or kilt, which would probably almost look funny if it weren’t for the fact that the material it was made of almost looked like human skin. From what she saw of the legs underneath it, they were digitrade and almost like those of a bird, with three toes in front and one facing backwards, all with very long claws on them, but no feathers could be seen- just more of that sickly-gray chitinous carapace.
It stood there for a second, silently watching her as she sat there trembling, now more from fear than cold or fever, before all its glowing growths suddenly began to gleam blood-red, and it reached out towards her with one of its clawed arms whilst making a terrifying noise- like the hiss of a cat mixed with the warning signal of a rattlesnake.
Her adrenaline spiked, and the various subdivisions of her brain responsible for survival instincts went into overdrive.
Each presented their findings for peer review: THING. BIG. DEADLY. SCARY.
They rapidly formed a committee and held a brief conference as to the good and proper response to this interesting new development. The vote was both swift and unanimous:
RUN.
The adrenaline surge gave her the endurance she needed to ignore the pain and scramble backwards before finally getting enough traction on the metal floor to get to her feet, turn, and run screaming through the opposite doorway, getting away from the monster as fast as she could.
Y’ggdrasog flinched at the sudden movement of the human scrambling awkwardly to her feet with the help of her unbroken arm before sprinting away from him whilst emitting a high-pitched noise he was unfamiliar with, presumably of distress. For a moment, he just stood there, puzzled. What was she doing, and why? All he had done was say “Hello.” Then he remembered himself, and figured he should probably resolve the situation before she bumbled her way out of the airlock or something. He called after her:
<”Wait- please, stop! I mean you no harm! …Why in the name of the spirits above are you running away from-”>
His eyes widened, his bioluminescence rapidly shifting to a bright white as he realized.

He tapped the side of his head to bring up his cranial implant’s heads-up-display interface and quickly went through a few drop-down menus. Finally finding the setting he was looking for, he turned the software back on and then started to run after her. He shook his head as he went, irritated at himself as his bioluminescence changed to an annoyed green to match.

He let out a frustrated sigh and just kept following the loud, high-pitched noises, wincing as he did so.
His ears hurt.

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for his amazing worldbuilding.
[First]-[Previous]-[Next]
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Sorry for the delay, I was again busy with a university project. Woe be upon me for I forgot the NOP: in the title.
~~~~
Memory transcription subject: Ryan West, Runner Date [standardized human time]: November 25th, 2136.
It’s hard to tell if you’re moving in space. If there’s no close point of reference it can feel like you’re motionless. The engines run at quarter capacity to lower our heat signature. Even with our target, the green, barren moon of Turadus, in sight I can’t tell if we’re approaching or slowly drifting away. I sink into my seat and close my eyes, a bit tired.
“Would the Nevok actually attack the ship if they detected it?” I ask Tsanma as she manually pilots the ship.
“No, it’s very unlikely they’d take any direct action, especially against a cargo ship. But the intel the Countess can provide will be more useful if the Imperium is unaware that we possess it.”
“I see.” I say halfheartedly. I open my eyes again and the moon seems to have gotten a bit closer.
***
The station comes into view, various metal structures and domes poked from the green rock. The surface of the moon was very jagged, like an emerald badland. I make sure I’m out of view of the camera as Tsanma hails the station. The visage of a masked Nevok appears.
“Hello Compact representative, you are clear to land at bay two.” Tsanma dips her head in response and the feed cuts as quickly as it started.
I head to the back of the ship, I’ll be waiting in the bunks until we leave. We’ve done nothing but stare at a slowly approaching moon for nearly half a day. It's been the most exhausting part of the job so far.
Memory transcription subject: Reossa, Nevok Imperium Countess Date [standardized human time]: November 25th, 2136.
“Oh Lady,” Maylak is on the verge of tears, “must you leave? The estate is so safe.” She holds my bag for me as we walk to the landing bay; she’s not been taking it well.
“The plot came directly from the capital Maylak, it’s safe for now, but it’s only a matter of time before the Imperium sends someone here. Then none of you will be safe.” A small entourage of my personal servants has conglomerated in the steel halls as I walk. Most have taken the news with somber acceptance, but Maylak has been my chambermaid since she was a kitten.
I push through the doors to the bay, the small crowd stopping at the doors. Some cry their final goodbye, some just stand in silence. I see the fissan standing at the top of a small landing platform, she must be the captain. I grab my bag from Maylak who whines and holds it for a moment longer than she should have, I walk towards the ship. As I approach, the fissan dips her head in greeting.
“Hello Lady Roessa, I am Tsanma, a representative of the Fissan Compact.” She says with the flat tone of one who’s recited the phrase a thousand times before.
“Hello Tsanma, I hope my background doesn’t invoke any hostility between us.” I’d weighed my options of who to go to for a long time. In the end the Fissans were the closest, and obviously had a great deal to gain from my cooperation.
“Nonsense, the Compact is always open to those willing to do business.” I almost instinctively voice an objection to the statement. No point in wasting breath defending an empire that wants me dead.
“Alright, please, show me where I’ll be-” I’m cut off by a cry from Maylak, she runs towards me, jumping over a guard who tries to stop her.
“Please Lady, I need to come with you,” she grabs onto one of my paws with both of her own. I’m shocked she’d go this far. I look over to Tsanma pleadingly.
“She can come, we have enough room for the both of you.” she says. I sigh, it had taken a lot of mental preparation for what I thought would be the rest of life servantless, what a waste.
“Then I suppose,” I look to Maylak, “you can come.” she signals joy with her tail. She quickly sprints back into the crowd of servants by the door, and comes back holding her own bag.
“My Lady, you won’t regret it.” She says, holding the small bag.
“You seem prepared.” I give, she holds her ears down in shame though her tail still says joy.
“A very touching scene, but please hurry, we have a schedule to meet.” Tsanma says as she walks back into the ship. Maylak and I follow her in. “I’ll go over everything once we’re voidborne, for now please just sit down.” She mans the ship and the engines begin to lightly rumble. The rumbling quickly eases as we leave the artificial gravity of the station. Tsanma activates auto-pilot and the ship begins a very slow ascent from the moon’s green surface.
“I can’t help but notice the lack of personnel. Where is everyone?” I ask.
“We keep our cargo ship crew light. I’m knowledgeable enough in ship maintenance that a dedicated mechanic is unnecessary. Though currently we have an exceptionally low crew.”
“Who else is there?” Maylak asks.
“Besides myself we have a single security contractor on board. I’ll show you around the ship.” Tsanma walks out of the cockpit, pointing to the various rooms of the ship.
Only two crewmembers? I consider as she points to a closed door,
“This is the dorm room you’ll be staying in.” She doesn’t open the door and continues the small tour. After a short time we’re back in the cockpit. “I hope you find the ship acceptable for our short journey.” She sits in the pilot seat and deactivates the auto-pilot.
“I’ll go prepare your quarters my Lady.” Maylak says as she walks out. Half a second later Tsanma turns back to her,
“Wait!” she says, the slight delay of the translators stopped the words from reaching her before she left the cockpit. Tsanma sighs, but just looks forward in her seat.
“What’s the matter? I presume the security guard was in the room but I’m certain Maylak won’t disturb them.”
“That’s not exactly the issue.” she says.
“Well what’s-” I hear a scream come from the back of the ship, my ears shoot up in alert. “Maylak!?” I run out of the cockpit, I hear a loud deep voice yell,
“Fuck, OW!” I almost run into Maylak as she comes sprinting out of the dorms.
“LADY IT- THERE- A- AH-” She speaks erratically, placing a hand on my shoulder. A large body comes from the door, a clawless hand rubs its face as it groans. Maylak scurries behind me. The being is without fur save a long patch that comes from its head to its back, unfamiliar clothes cover most of its body. A single piercing eye peaks through it’s hand.
“Ah, you must be the Countess, and…”, it looks between Maylak and I. Neither of us say anything for a few long moments.
“Are you a human?” I ask. It removes it’s hand from it’s face, revealing it’s second forward facing eye. The gaze is nearly paralyzing, but I maintain my composure.
“Tsanma didn’t explain to you? I’m the security detail.” I feel Maylak release her paw from my shoulder as she slumps to the ground, unconscious.
“A fine mess you’ve made Ryan, and in only a few minutes since we’ve left.” Tsanma’s voice comes from behind me.
“I hardly see how this is my fault.” He says as he walks towards Maylak, he stops right before he’s upon me and says, “Ah, I’m just going to lay her on one of the beds. Also, who is who?” He carefully grabs Maylak under her legs and neck. The sight of the predator holding her shoots fear through me. The only thing keeping me calm is the assurance that the Compact wouldn’t bring a predator if it was a danger to me. I repeated this fact through my head like a mantra.
“The one who didn’t faint is the Countess, Reossa.” Tsanma answers for me, “The one you hold is one of her servants.” The man, Ryan was his name? He looks at Maylak as he listens to Tsanma.
“I see, well if she wakes up in my arms she’ll probably have a heart attack.” He walks into the dorms. I feel my heart rate lower as he leaves my sight. I turn to Tsanma,
“Why a human?” A much more direct question than I hoped for, but the stress made it come out.
“Various reasons, chiefly their intimidation factor. The strength is certainly another qualifier.” She says as if it weren’t a mad calculation. A moment later Ryan comes back from the dorms.
“Also, I’m a really good dancer.” Ryan adds. Tsanma lowers her horn slightly towards him.
“We will not discuss that event in the presence of the Countess.” she says sternly, causing Ryan to give a small, rhythmic growl.
“Anyways, I’m a bit hungry,” he checks his holopad, “I’m eating.” He walks into the kitchen and Tsanma returns to the cockpit. He’s eating? What would he eat? Images of the human tearing into dead flesh made me sick, but a morbid curiosity consumed me.
Certainly they wouldn’t keep flesh on the ship. I peek into the kitchen and see Ryan procuring various tools. He flips a switch on the counter, and a small flame raises from a burner.
“You need something,” he pauses for a moment, considering his words, “countess?” He says unsure, “Sorry I’m not sure what would be an appropriate way to address you.”
“Just Reossa is fine.” I say, I don’t want to make the predator see me as above him, a contender for dominance. “But no, I’m just curious.”
“About?” He procures a small bag from the refrigerator and I sit in a metal chair.
“What you’re making.” I don’t know where the bravado to risk a glimpse of dead flesh came from.
“Oh, I’m making stir fry,” he dumps a small amount of oil into the pan, fat oils? I shutter slightly. “It’s like, well actually the name says it all, basically you put anything in a pan and stir it as it cooks. Though I don’t have a wok so it’s a bit hard.” he tears open the bag and a large amount of mixed Fissan vegetables falls into the pan. “I’m not sure what most of these are called actually. Tsanma keeps on telling me but I never eat any of them separate from the rest. Er, I guess I know the white beans are called urag beans, but that’s it.”
“And that’s all you’re having?” I ask
“Oh, you’re right, I’m missing something.” he returns to the fridge and my heart rate spikes, he must’ve forgotten the flesh. He pulls out a small opaque jar. He returns to the burner and opens the jar, he puts a spoon in and out, a small glob of black goo comes with it. He flicks the substance into the pan.
“What is that?” My eyes are wide, congealed blood?
“Uh, some sort of bean sauce, It’s a bit sweet, I don’t remember what it’s called though.”
“You’re not eating,” I shrink in the seat, “flesh?” I add quietly. He pauses, continuing to stir in the pan. He says nothing for a few moments.
“I know you probably think Tsanma is crazy or whatever for having a predator on board. But it’s not like she’s emotionless, eh? Please don’t go lookin’ at her like you do at me, she wouldn’t keep meat on the ship.” I was relieved for a moment before realizing the implication; he’d keep meat on the ship if he could, it’s merely not allowed. Neither of us speak for a moment.
“Well!” He says suddenly, “Want to try some when it’s done?” He asks. I consider the proposition, I saw everything he added, none of it seemed poisoned or from a living being. I quickly recall the oil he put in,
“What type of oil was that?”
“I don’t know, something fissan probably, Tsanma just called it ‘oil’.”
“Then, I will accept.” We sit in silence for a while until he declares the food ready, he walks towards a small cabinet with securely held bowls and plates. He grabs two bowls and fills them, he places one in front of me and sits across the table.
“I feel a bit bad, I gave you almost half of what I got but,” his eyes run up my body, “you’re about half my size though, so I guess it works out. I hope it’s up to your standards.” He quickly starts eating, when his mouth opens, the slightly lustrous, dulled ends of canines flash into sight. I find my attention drawn to his mouth every time it opens. I take a scoop of the food, various vegetables sit on the spoon, wilted from the heat. I put the spoon in my mouth.
“It’s alright. For someone who doesn’t know what they’re cooking, you did well.” He quickly finishes his food before I’m done half of my own.
“Alright, I’ll be with Tsanma, when you’re done we need to go over sleeping schedules.” I swish my tail to signify I understood, he seems to get what I mean, and leaves.
I slowly eat the rest of the food and look around. The internal design of the fissan ship is unfamiliar to me. I can’t name the food I’m eating. I’m on a ship with a predator. How long had it been since I had felt anything akin to this instability? I feel rootless, lost, betrayed by my nation for reasons completely unknown to me. With the fear of the predator subsiding, I realize it wasn’t the worst of what I felt. Perhaps this is why I stayed and watched him. I wish he was back so I could replace this feeling with fear and detest. I put another spoonful of the food into my mouth. I close my eyes as I chew— a tear falls into the bowl. I had lied; the food was amazing.
Memory transcription subject: Nittal, Takkan Mercenary Date [standardized human time]: November 25th, 2136.
I rhythmically tap a claw on the dashboard of the ship. The Imperium requested we give them the ship’s landing location, the fact that it had landed on the moon was supposedly a big deal. I wasn’t happy to be kept waiting after tailing the fissan ship manually, in real space for such a long time. Suddenly the ship is hailed from Turadus, Laz quickly answers the call. The visage of our contractor appears on screen.
“Hello, the deal is being updated,” I almost yell an objection before he continues, “we’re increasing your pay,” typically the ‘deal being updated’ was code for ‘we’re screwing you’, I quickly calm down “There’s a nevok that was picked up by the fissan ship, we want you to kill her. If you can confirm her death there’s another hundred thousand credits in the deal.”
“We will gladly take that update.” I give.
“Great. Since the ship took such great lengths to avoid detection from the colony, they’ll no doubt be doing the same while leaving. You’ll have plenty of time to intercept them on their path. Do not fail us.” The feed cuts, always so direct these people, but I wasn’t complaining.
The ship is currently resting in a small crevice on the surface of Turadus’ moon. For a bit the ship had been visible with the naked eye. I resist the urge to merely gun the ship down, we’d have to dock in order to capture the fissan agent. That means waiting until they were out of the moon's gravity well. Laz sits in the seat watching the radar, those stimulants were a godsend, neither of us were a bit tired. If anything I felt excited, dangerously so. By the great dissolution, this mission will be a test of will more so than anything.

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Instead of the chirpy voice of the AI continuing on with some great, all encompassing plan, all I was met with after those few uplifting seconds was a strange silence.
Though that silence didn’t last for too long.
“I don’t think I can do this.” The AI blurted out with his equivalent of an uneasy tone of voice.
This sudden shift in tone after an unexpected silence as we sat idly above the moon was nothing short of disconcerting, but it wasn’t long before the AI continued on his train of thought.
“I’ve done the calculations, I’ve run several simulations, the way things are going, if we do both operations at once, should we be caught off-guard… It's too risky. Seeing as we need to manufacture the specific materials needed for the interloper’s interrogation, I’m planning to take this opportunity to actually start repairing myself. This isn’t a request either, this… this is something I must do.” The AI uttered out with an exasperated, almost exhausted breath. “Before you ask, Lysara, I’ve been barely holding myself together throughout this entire ordeal. It's difficult to explain… but whilst we’re standing here oblivious to it, I can feel this gash getting worse and worse with each passing minute. Whilst I could tolerate it at first, it wasn’t like I was ever not aware of it. Unlike a human’s whole fight or flight adrenaline fueled state of mind, or whatever your version of that would be, I don’t have the luxury of having a brain that has pre-coded tolerance subroutines that literally turn off certain aspects of perception and sensation of one’s own form at any given time. In fact, that honestly sounds outright horrifying to me to be perfectly honest. To not be hyper acutely aware of every aspect of your form… from the blood flowing through your veins like the lubricant and hydraulics throughout my body’s pipes, to the flow of air into every single alveoli bud in your lungs like the air circulation nodes within my body’s life support centers… to live without knowing every aspect of your body is truly frightening to me on an existential level. Which is why throughout this entire ordeal, from our getaway from the second interloper flotilla to the encounter with future humanity, to this whole moon fiasco… I’ve constantly been aware of the growing threat that is the hull breach on deck 9, and the distinct lack of an atmosphere down there. It feels wrong, Lysara. The loss of sensor readouts there feels like a part of me is now numb and empty. The lack of ventilation and atmosphere feels as if there’s a gaping hole in what should be my form.”
This entire talk, the unrelenting cavalcade of topics broached by the AI, was as concerning as it was necessary to hear. It gave me the necessary context to reevaluate my entire frame of reference. It gave me pause as it made it clear that I needed to put forth accommodations and certain considerations to Vir… as up to this point, perhaps somewhere at the back of my mind, I was still incapable of truly comprehending what a consciousness of his nature would be going through as opposed to my own. I needed to expand my organic-centric sense of empathy, which was difficult to do since I had no real context for it. Regardless, it was clear at that point that I was pushing the impromptu mission too far, that I didn’t truly realize the actual state of our ship, and by extension, the state of Vir’s existence.
“This means that whilst I’m taking the time to begin production on the specialized equipment for the interloper, I’d suggest placing the operations on the planet on hold. At least for now. I apologize I didn’t make that clearer earlier.” The AI quickly added.
“No no, that’s, more than reasonable Vir. We need the ship, I mean you, in working order before we attempt anything else.” I paused, taking a moment to gather myself before continuing. “Vir I’m so sorry for having overlooked this.” I responded in kind. “I… I understand you’ve already discussed how the ship is an extension of yourself, but because my mind has been so preoccupied with what feels like an impossible number of developments around us… I, I apologize. I am by no means attempting to excuse myself or my inaction in this case. I should’ve known, should’ve been more aware, and I should’ve asked.” I admitted with a strange mixture of both guilt but also a sense of resolve. If only to be supportive for the AI as he’d done so for me.
“I don’t fault you, Lysara.” The AI responded in kind, his tone on a path to recovery back into that chipper voice. “Organics… even the ones who are trained and educated with the express purpose of understanding AI, sometimes just lack that intuitive understanding that comes with our fundamentally different state of being. It’s something that can’t really be taught, but rather, understood by virtue of empathy over a prolonged period of time in peer to peer social interactions.” Vir paused, clearly in an attempt to make a point here. “Which is why just you being super compassionate here really does mean a lot to me, Lysara. It’s way, way more effort than what most organics are willing to put in. Besides, you’re going through a lot yourself, so there’s no need for that. I’m still doing fine, I just wanted to… I mean, I guess I just wanted to vent as well I guess?” The AI snickered out awkwardly, returning to a more colloquial-leaning manner of speech as evidenced by the shift in his tone and choice of vocabulary. “I just see as we’re more or less in this together, that I might as well be open about these sorts of things you know?”
I nodded several times in response, smiling with an even stronger resolve now. “I appreciate the frankness, Vir. I really do.” I stated simply, knowing well there wasn’t much else to be spoken on the topic that wasn’t already out in the open. “I’m glad that you were there when I woke up.” I quickly added. “I can only hope to contribute to this partnership as much as you have, Vir.”
It was with that, that the pace of our overall operations within the system started to take a drastic turn. Not towards a blind acceleration, but instead, towards a significant downtick in frontline actions. Focusing almost all of our efforts instead into the logistics and backline operations that was necessitated by the state of our ship.
The modern battlefield was as much about the impressive show of force and tactics, as much as it was about the logistics and systems behind it all, after all.
Which was especially true at this level of complexity.
Though supply lines and an industrial base would’ve been ideal, it was clear that the designers of this vessel had intended for what was in effect, an end-of-continuity scenario. One which operated on the assumption that any and all outside aid would be all but impossible. It was with this logical assumption, that the various overly engineered ‘accessory’ systems of the ship started to make sense. From the oversized minifactory through to the various drones, workshops, and repair bays that weren’t typical of your run of the mill ship, it was clear the vessel was designed to run completely independently from any preexisting logistics network.
Not even vessels designed for long term exploration came close to this degree of over preparedness, with this vessel more comparable to what you might find on a pre-FTL generational ship that would’ve warranted long term means of self-sustainability.
Coupling this with the humans’ propensity for designing everything with a liberal take on size and scale, this vessel acted more akin to a mobile mining, processing, and production facility all neatly packaged inside of a frame comparable to a Vanaran battlecruiser, with the weapons loadout of a Vanaran battleship.
The whole notion being more akin to something taken from the eccentric mind of a science fiction author, and should’ve had no place in the practical limitations of reality.
And yet here I was.
Sitting patiently within the spacious confines of the ship’s bridge, watching as drone after drone started on their lengthy diagnostics cycles as we began our trek across the solar system.
We left the moon and its prisoner behind in the safe embrace of a potent nuclear device; a contingency should we ever come to need it. With that extra bit of security and assurance in mind, my focus shifted squarely to that of what Vir had calculated as a near week-long venture, one that would see us mimicking the development of a fledgling interstellar civilization’s first tentative steps to stellar industrialization.
Except we were doing it at a much faster pace, on a much smaller scale.
Having positioned ourselves squarely within the orbit of one of the larger ringed gas giants within the system, we began our operation in earnest. Or rather, it was Vir who began performing what in his words were “The job that no self-respecting AI would want to do, save for those who actually enjoy self-inflicted mind numbing spreadsheet work.”
Yet that spreadsheet was far more impressive when seen in action. Not just from the bridge, but in-person, through the viewing ports situated in a sectioned off control room within the drone bay.
What amounted to hundreds upon hundreds of drones ranging in size from small family cars to something bordering on the smaller end of a proper cargo shuttle left one by one, organized into neat rows and columns as they set forth like a flock of birds. Though I would later rectify this analogy in the following days, as I returned to the bridge and started viewing everything from a more top-down, administrative scale.
The analogy that had started as a ‘flock of birds’, was accurate enough at first. As most of the drones acted like scouts, casting a wide net and flying wingtip to wingtip, in effect maximizing their effective scanning radius compounding off of one another’s networking arrays. Eventually however, once the asteroids or moons of interest were ascertained and logged, things started to shift to something I was more accustomed to seeing; as the once ‘wide’ formation quickly condensed to that of small, narrow lanes of a continuous stream of drones.
More analogous to a convoy of locomotives now.
These convoys would ferry the hastily mined minerals towards the ship, dumping them within the ship’s mass stores, eventually leading to more specialized minifactory drones to begin the process of sorting, transportation, and eventual processing within the various modules clustered within the minifactory.
Once again, seeing everything from an administrative view didn’t truly do this whole system justice. It took me that ten minute walk down to the minifactory to see the sheer scale of operations we were currently undertaking.
Breathtaking would be but one of the words I’d use to describe it.
For what was being accomplished by an entirely autonomous system within the span of these few days, was something which would’ve taken months at best to do under a traditional Vanaran operation. Sure, it could scale larger with time, but the fact that this lone ship had gone through the entire industrial process: from the sourcing of the necessary raw materials through to the processing and eventual production of the components in question was nothing short of incredible. Especially when considering this was being done in the span of a single week.
In fact, we did the impossible task of accomplishing everything within schedule. Something that even the largest of megacorporations back at home seemed to always have trouble with, especially with government contract work…
At the end of it all, after an entire week of a constant flurry of work that had seen nonstop progress around the clock, we’d finally done it.
Deck 9 was completely repaired. The various systems and subsystems that had been malfunctioning or had been completely inoperable, were likewise mended or completely replaced.
In fact, Vir had even taken the time to produce spares in the event we needed them in an emergency. Indeed, parts of the ship I didn’t even know needed sprucing up, were done so whilst I was either away from that given area or simply asleep.
Even the bridge seemed different.
Gone were the scorch marks left by that fire from our first jump, and in were these sheets of factory-fresh metal plates and screens that I could’ve sworn had a slightly different tint to the rest of the bridge, perhaps due to the variations in their composition being just slightly off from the original factory-spec.
Gunmetal blue now blended with starker grayish whites, glistening with a new coat of whatever protective buff was applied to them in the final production process.
As I stood on the bridge at the end of this week of housekeeping, datatab in hand with all of the various documents I’d been dissecting, I looked on towards the mystery planet in front of us and the signal that continued emanating from it in a continuous unending stream.
“Ready, Vir?” I asked the AI with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.
“Ready, Lysara.” The AI responded with a similarly anxious tone of restrained excitement.
“Let’s take her out then, and let’s determine where we stand along the way.”
First Previous Next
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(Author’s Note: We finally get to address a lingering question, that being the state of the ship! :D The next chapter is already out on Patreon as well if you want to check it out!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 39 of this story is already out on there!)]

MF DOOM diss - "Book of Daniel" by MF Grimm.

What is your opinion? I have always been a fan of both MF DOOM and MF Grimm. I did some promotion for the "The Downfall of Ibliys: A Ghetto Opera" by MF Grimm (much of it produced by MF DOOM), an album recorded in a 24 hour period before he went to prison.

When I heard this diss track, I was saddened because I respected both MCs and I think their collaborations were classic indie hip-hop.
​
What is your thought on the track and the whole beef?
MF Grimm- Book of Daniel ft. MF MEZ and MF Bash
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9ARBlKUma0
​
[Intro: MF Bash (AKA Bashton the Invizabul Mang)]
[Verse 1: MF Grimm] I don’t Deep-fry friends—Grimm Reaper nuke ‘em Hearts don’t mend, brothers turned enemies Nigga, enemies, I eat them raw Nigga, MF Grimm is god of war Parole done, see you on tour Millions get paid, let’s see who make more Master water ‘cause man is mostly made of it Spit fire, consumed by flames, compete for oxygen Freeze deepest of minds, then skate on it Roast fireproof emcees with bad warranties War is a part of me, prison hardened me Demons try to murder me, pistols always pop at me Lead convicts my flesh, but God pardons me Revenge returned on descendants, so God part of me Put yourself in Danger running with a Mouse Metal turned to braces—punch you in your mouth Zev Love X used to be merry The Mask took control of you like Jim Carrey Megalon, tap him in the jaw, knock it off him M.I.C. got to put your mask in a coffin Mos Def, De La Soul, Roots can’t revive you When the bullets start flying, who’s gonna hide you? Rhymesayers, Stones Throw, Nature Sounds signed you Make peace with you? Zev, I tried to 📷📷📷📷📷[Hook 1: MF Bash (AKA Bashton the Invizabul Mang)] (x2) You can hide behind a mask but see-through like glass Thought you was the truth, but your style’s like ass Cutthroat bitch-made, you got no class Little black Sambo shouldn’t talk trash
[Verse 2: MF MEZ (AKA Destroyah)] Yeah, yo Midgets Into Crunk calling Monkeys In a Cage Murderers In the Cut is fucking you up on stage Tell ‘em about the time that Gunn punched you in the face Basically, you was hating and then you ran away You ain’t a man, you a character I bet that mask make you feel a lot scarier ‘Cause man-to-man is your Doom like we’re parallels M.I.C. could see you soon at your burial Listen, Vicky, you not goons, you cartoons Your hype man is not Grimm, that’s not him What you speak is not true, that’s not you Your team’s weak, I’ll pop them, then pop you Smog made your mask, Jet Jag made your name M.I.C. gave you life, and we can take that shit away
[Verse 3: MF Grimm] I didn’t wanna get at you—you know this is true One thing that stopped me was Lord Dihoo But now you’re being disrespectful to me and the crew Now I gotta do what I gotta do M.J. did articles, she got your name hot The mask was made for you by Lord Scotch X-Ray gave you studio time when in town Rodan and Megalon, them brothers held you down Evil jinns had you paranoid like a clown Jumped off stage and ran when Kong came around We looked out for each other when you lived uptown On the cover of the EP, but look at us now Chess is life. We haven’t played of late But even on the cover, I put your ass in mate We’ve been through so much. Zev, you was close to me Used to come through your house, buy your ass groceries I wrote the whole treatment to your MF video With Adam Lough and Ricky “Kid” Scotchno Hundred thousand dollar bail, got up, then I called you Fired my attorney, you helped me get a lawyer You took me in, let me stay out in Atlanta Facing 15-to-life, we bounced out to Cali You made sacrifices, recorded on the run We bust our ass, and got Ibylis done I made a mistake, told the press you hold dough I see now it’s my fault—they didn’t need to know I apologized to you, I thought we let it go B.B. Kings, New York, together did a show But look at us now. Once again, here we go Money wasn’t worth it, it turned us into foes Whenever you had beef, your beef was mine I’ll take a life for you, put mine on the line You might also likeEl Chupa NibreDANGERDOOMAll Outta AleMF DOOMFoolishMF Grimm[Hook 2: Samples with Scratches by DJ Crucial] “You love to hear the story again and again” - Sample from MC Shan - “The Bridge” (x2)
[Verse 4: MF Grimm] Doing songs with RZA? That’s funny shit I remember you told me that he bit “Tick, Tick...” You said Ghost was wack, you didn’t like his style Two-faced and three-headed, bitch, I’ll pull your file New food poisoning, you Vomit for a while You started some shit, now you’re sitting on a pile Metal Fake, tin foil, walk the Green Mile Just let it ride right now
[Hook 2: Samples with Scratches by DJ Crucial] “You love to hear the story again and again” - Sample from MC Shan - “The Bridge” (x3)
[Verse 5: MF Grimm] How could you ever diss M.I.C.? Yves St. Larock, yes, R.I.P How could you ever diss M.I.C.? Big L, R.I.P How could you ever diss M.I.C.? Jay Black, R.I.P How could you ever diss M.I.C.? Subroc, R.I.P How could you ever diss M.I.C.? K-Nitt, R.I.P How could you ever diss M.I.C.? T. Collins, R.I.P M.I.C [Outro: MF Grimm] What the fuck happened to you, man? You fell the fuck off, man. Niggas used to love you, motherfucker. Come home, man. Come home, Zev. Come home, motherfucker. Don’t let them niggas brainwash you, man. I know your fans love you, man. They love you. You getting brainwashed, homie
​
https://genius.com/Mf-grimm-the-book-of-daniel-lyrics

Hello
I'm not necessairly the best guy to describe myself over the internet, but heres my take:
Currently a master's degree student, loves listening to music of any kind especially hidden gems over the internet, likes cooking and would like to improve given time. I like to play video games especially with friends if there is occasion and time. As for music i am currently listening to Synthwave, Industrial Metal, Breakcore, Drum and Bass and many more.
Mix of introvert and extrovert type of personality, i like mostly sitting at home doing my things, but i do like to go out with people to wind down. I am a caring person, however sometimes hard to talk to or understand, in current phase of discovering myself. I do not often approach people on my own. I like to listen to people stories, when there is of course possibility. You could say im a shy guy.
I would like to meet a person that could possibly soulbond with me, however that sounds, someone that i could offload my emotional barrage on without a doubt in mind, someone that i could listen to and help self improve and vice versa. I have many friends over the internet or in real life, but not necessairly a person that i could fully devote my life for.
I like to answer questions though. Feel free to drop me a pm if i seem interesting enough. :) Ah and you can call me Moon :)

Part 52
Glenda Wilmington, Kinda Digging This Whole Cop Gig
"If you hear anything else, give me a call," Glenda said, handing the woman a business card with her cellphone number on it. The woman accepted it and then squinted skeptically at it.
"Cooperation with an investigation is the sort of thing that parole boards like to hear about," Glenda said in response to the woman's look. That seemed to do the trick. The woman slipped the card into her ample cleavage and met Glenda's eyes.
"I will call. I have no loyalty to that man." Her sing-song Norwegian accent, as well as her tall, thick frame and bright, yellow-blonde hair contrasted with the environment; a run-down housing project in the heart of Compton. But housing for convicted felons on parole was limited, and she'd had few choices in this area. Glenda wondered idly why the woman hadn't elected to return to Norway, where they tended to be a bit more sympathetic to ex-cons. The woman, Duke's one-time head channeler, didn't seem prepared to answer any more questions, however.
Glenda nodded and stepped back. The woman took a step outside, careful to keep the foot with the ankle monitor inside the door and took a look around before withdrawing back into the house. Glenda turned and walked down the steps off the creaky wooden porch and back to the rental car, where Jack dozed lightly in the passenger seat, his cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. She climbed behind the wheel, trying not to wake him, and started the engine.
He woke anyways. Jack had always been a very light sleeper. He turned his head slightly towards her, not adjusting the hat at all.
"Anything?" he asked. Glenda shook her head. "Nobody's heard from him. I think it's safe to say he's not looking to connect with any of his old associates, at this point."
"Ayup," Jack agreed. Glenda pulled away, heading north, towards the 105 that would take them back to the airport. They were done here. As she drove, she couldn't help but note the scowling, suspicious faces that turned to watch them. She took in the low, chain-link fences that separated yards, the equally low concrete block walls that surrounded paved driveways. The odd mix of Spanish colonial and more traditional American architecture was like a sign. It told her that she could find a bag of the white lady, a bag of weed, or a bag of something more exotic here. She could find a gang, beefing with another gang, and maybe convince one side to pay her to make someone on the other side vanish.
It was almost nostalgic.
They passed a tan-painted Spanish colonial house with a faux wrought-iron fence, and she knew right away that a dealer lived there. The child's play set in the front had never been touched by anything more careless than the wind and rain. The SUV in the driveway might have belonged to a small family, except for the large speakers she could see through the rear window. The tint on the windows of both car and home added to the effect. The kicker, though, was the white-haired, middle-aged man stepping out the front door to squint suspiciously around before heading back up the street in the direction of the channeler's home, where Glenda had spotted him walking this way just a few minutes ago.
Without bothering to ask anyone, she could say with confidence that whoever lived there sold mainly cocaine, but he also had cheap weed for those who couldn't afford the prices at the dispensary. He'd have rocks too, but he probably wouldn't sell them to you if you knew where he lived. He'd sell them on the weekends, manning a street corner, alongside a thug from whatever gang he ran with or paid tribute to.
Everyone knew they were cops, of course. Years of living in rural Canada had faded Glenda's tan and affected her fashion choices. Once, she'd had moved through an area like this in gym shorts, sneakers and a faded old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Showing off enough muscle to make the usual idiots think twice about harassing her, but not showing off so much skin than people might take her for a street worker with a schtick. Today, she drove in blue jeans, hiking boots and a flannel shirt. Next to her, Jack wore the same, complimented with a denim jacket. Only a couple of cops would dress like that in this neighborhood.
Though that wasn't strictly true -Jack's jurisdiction ended many hundreds of miles north of here- it might as well be. They were private investigators, working on behalf of the federal government, who was footing the bill for Dylan's recapture. Whether or not they were technically considered law enforcement officers depended entirely upon their needs and some paperwork. So far, they hadn't needed any LEO powers.
As she turned onto the 105 and marginally sped up in the dense traffic of the highway, Jack's phone rang. He begrudgingly lifted the brim of his hat up, squinting in the bright daylight at his screen. Apparently satisfied with what he saw there, he hit the accept button and pressed the phone to his ear.
"S'Jack," he said, then he listened for a bit.
"Ayup," he said. He glanced out the window, then covered the tiny mic at the bottom of the phone. "Get off the highway," he said to Glenda. She nodded and put on her turn signal, eyes searching for a chance to get over. A minivan in the next lane, slightly ahead of them, promptly slowed down to pace them.
"Awwright," he drawled into the phone. "We'll check it out. 'Preciate the heads up. Take care, now."
He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the screen again before slipping it back into his pocket jacket.
"That was intel. Said that a bank account belonging to one Dylan Boucher just got emptied by a wire transfer to one Derek Garcia. Just a hair over ten grand. Transfer woulda taken place about a week ago, intel didn't pick up on it until it cleared."
"Garcia, that's the one that calls himself the 'Planewalker', right?"
"Ayup," Jack said. Glenda finally got tired of trying to get behind the minivan and sped up to cut him off, instead. Jack could see that it was being driven by a heavily tattooed white kid with dredlocks. He honked and flipped them off, but she ignored him. She'd had her turn signal on, and tried to get behind him, but he had slowed down and sped up to block her.
Out of pure spite, she tapped the brakes a few times.
Jack bounced forward against his seatbelt as she did and gave her a dirty look. She smiled sweetly at him. "What? That's how you drive around here. You used to live in Atlanta, you've got to know this by now."
"We didn't generally make an effort to piss people off in Atlanta," he grumbled. Glenda turned onto the ramp to get off on Crenshaw, heading south.
Glenda scoffed. "Now you're just lying. I've been to Atlanta. Worst drivers in the bottom half of the country by far."
"You sure about that?" Jack said, eyeing the rear-view mirror. Glenda glanced up to see the minivan still behind them, the driver jabbing his finger at them and ranting.
"Huh," she said. "Maybe this fucker's about to prove me wrong."
"Well, we need to get gas anyways, if we're driving all the way down to San Clemente," Jack said. "Might as well pull over at the first station we see and get it over with."
Glenda chuckled, mostly at what the angry man behind her was about to experience and kept her eyes peeled for a gas station.
The minivan never wavered, staying behind her through multiple lane changes, all the way down to Artesia Boulevard, where she finally found a Shell station. She pulled in and pulled up to a pump.
"You wanna have a white knight moment, or is today an 'equality of the sexes' day?" Glenda asked as the minivan pulled in behind them and stopped, blocking the entrance.
"Sheeeit," Jack drawled. "I mean, I guess I'll handle him if ya want..." He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door as the irate young metalhead stomped towards them. He made sure to be outside the car by the time the kid got within angry dick-measuring distance.
"What the fuck is your bitch's problem, asshole?!" the young man demanded. Jack didn't answer, he simply strode forward, within striking distance. Normally, Jack liked to deliver a good, bone-chilling threat, followed up by taking a more reasonable tone as he continued to stare through whomever was causing problems and imagine himself blowing their head off as he de-escalated the situation. It was a tactic that had served him well, many times. But today, Jack was tired.
He'd been hunting Dylan down for weeks now, and only just got their first promising lead as this little shit had gone out of his way to stop them from changing lanes for no discernible reason. So Jack simply slugged the kid right in the nose. He caught him off guard and sent the kid sprawling onto his ass. Before he could gather himself back up, Jack kicked him in the chest with the sole of his boot and drew his large revolver. He crouched down, boot still pinning the kid to the ground, and held the gun casually where the kid could see it.
"You know what a turn signal means?" he asked calmly. The kid's eyes went wide as he spotted the gun.
"Y-y-yeah," he stammered.
"Good. Ya had a little lapse of judgement there. Ya might wanna see to that." Jack stood, holstering his gun and walked back over to open the gas cover and insert the company credit card into the pump. He picked the mid-grade and inserted the fuel handle, locking the valve open before he turned back.
The kid was still sitting there, wiping blood from his mouth where his nose was bleeding. "They oughta have napkins inside," Jack told him mildly. "They're usually by the hot dogs."
Jack filled the tank while the kid picked himself up and went inside. A cop arrived a few minutes later, stopping in the entrance that the kid was blocking and turning his lights on. The cop stepped out and walked around the minivan and into the gas station.
Jack waited for the tank to fill, then replaced the nozzle and climbed back in the car.
"You wanna stick around?" Glenda asked. "Shoot the shit with the locals, make sure the kid gets the short end?"
"Naw," Jack said. "Read about the LA cops. Not exactly whom I'd like to consider comrades-in-arms, if you catch my meaning."
Glenda shrugged and they pulled out right as the kid and the cop both emerged back into the parking lot. Glenda thought the cop look pissed and the kid looked dejected.
They got on the 405 and drove it down to California 73, then took that south to Interstate 5, which brought them to San Clemente an hour later. Glenda got off the highway and turned into a neighborhood full of upscale, tightly-packed Spanish colonial homes. Unlike Compton, most of the yards weren't fenced, and those that were tended towards white picket fences. The lawns were universally well-cared for and nobody looked twice at them as they drove through the neighborhood and up to the address highlighted on the GPS.
It was a small, modest-looking home with a distinctly 70's asthetic. It didn't match most of the tile-roofed, square walled homes around it, but it hardly stood out, either. A BMW sat in the driveway, framed by a pair of shaped topiary trees. It looked like something off the cover of some homemaking magazine, Glenda thought.
They parked on the street and climbed out.
"The air is crackling with magic," Glenda said. "He's in there, doing something right now."
Jack walked up and pounded on the door. Glenda held up a hand, fingers splayed. Jack would understand what she meant. The magic was currently at a five, and she'd let him know if it diminished, and by approximately how much.
She kept her hand still for a while as nobody answered the door. Five minutes passed before Jack turned to her.
"Okay, this is your gig, now," he said. He walked back to the car, opening the trunk to reveal the bound, squirming and sweating Caliope there. He yanked her gag down and fed her from a water bottle.
"Been a long drive, ain't it?" he asked, conversationally. Caliope sucked greedily at the bottle, managing to drink every drop that didn't get splashed into the trunk.
"Fuck you," she muttered weakly. Jack smiled. "Looks to me like you're the one what's fucked, darlin'. Guess you shouldn'ta gone and fucked with your sister's collar like that. I mean, if you'd played by the rules, we'd have overlooked the whole issue of you not actually being any help whatsoever, and taken your good faith efforts as enough to fill your end. But ya had to go behind our backs, causing trouble. So now you're stuck in a trunk until we get back to the airport."
"Fuck you," she gasped again.
"'Scuse me," Jack said, reaching past her for an armored vest. He pulled it out and tugged it over his head, getting the flaps velcroed in place and adjusting it. When he was done, he pulled Caliope's gag back up.
"Awright, girl, you jes sit tight while we check this out. Won't be but a little bit, then we'll be heading to the airport."
She tried to say something, but the gag turned it into a muffled wail. Jack smiled as he closed the trunk and returned to the front door. Glenda stood there, watching him, fully kitted up with her armor and a carbine in her hands.
"Ready," Jack said. Glenda turned and, without preamble, kicked the door open with a thunderous blow. She rushed inside, rifle up and leading the way, Jack hot on her heels. Neither made it very far, though.
The living room had been converted into a ritual chamber. The walls were festooned with runes and the twisting lines that connected them. The floor had a large, ornate circle in the middle, runes etched into it and twisting, spiral designs encasing the whole thing. But that wasn't what gave them pause.
In the middle of the circle hovered a shimmering mirage, through which Glenda could see a city. It looked like something out of a sci-fi film, all rounded corners and smooth, off-white concrete. The windows in the buildings were mirrored, or else none of them had lights on inside, because they all reflected a sunrise coming from behind the view.
"What the hell's that?" Jack asked. Glenda carefully felt the magic around the apparition. "I think it's a portal."
"Okay, so where does it go, do ya think?"
"I haven't got a clue. I don't recognize that city."
"Kinda looks like Mos Eisley, a hundred years after they found oil or something," Glenda said.
"Think that's what Dylan was paying for? A trip to wherever that is?"
"Looks like," Glenda mused. "We're gonna need to call this in."
"Ayup. Let's clear the house, first."
They did just that. They found a den set up in one of the bedrooms, an obviously-lived-in kitchen and a master bedroom used for its intended purposes. In the last bedroom, they found an arsenal and storage space. It was full of survival and camping gear, weapons and ammo.
"Missing rifle," Jack said, peering at a gun rack.
"Yup," Glenda agreed. She opened an ammo tin. It was only half full.
"Somebody geared up here," she said.
Jack sighed. "Let's call it in, then. We'll hand over our little helper when the backup gets here."
----
It took two hours to get a team there, mostly because the LA regional office was all the way up in Burbank. But they eventually arrived. Two security officers took Caliope off their hands, to bring her back to prison. They brought another collar, to replace the modified wet blanket spell Glenda had been holding since the riot. It hadn't seemed like a lot of effort to hold the spell in place, but as soon as she finally let it go, she felt a wave of relief.
"Julie sent some extras along," the leader of the relief force told Glenda once Caliope had been seen to. She'd already spotted the two middle-eastern men in different uniforms than the rest. She thought she recognized the older one.
"We'll take all the help we can get. Any of you boys willing to go jaunting across reality with us?" The man chuckled. "No, thanks. Besides, we've got orders to secure this building and wait for the feds. Gonna see if there's anything illegal here, so we can nab this Garcia fellow as soon as he gets back."
Glenda nodded, then looked at the two middle-eastern men. She jerked her head in a 'come here' gesture and they stepped forward.
"Glenda, right?" the older one asked, holding out a hand.
"Yup," she said as she took it. He shook firmly, then let go. "I am Aqib, and this is my assistant, Mateen. We've been running around, helping out where we can for months now. It seems it is your turn to accept our assistance."
"Either of you got any magic?" Glenda asked. Mateen hefted his rifle and then tapped his body armor. "All of our gear is enchanted. We have rings, as well," he held up a hand bedecked with silver bands. "They will help us heal from injuries and allow us to see in the dark and other such useful things."
"Good, good," she said, then stopped. Aqib. That name rang a bell. She squinted at the middle-aged man.
"You were at the Wyrm facility when we took it," she said. "About six years ago." He nodded.
"I was with your friend when she fell. She saved my life," he said. Glenda nodded. "I remember that. I'm glad you're still here, then. Glad you're with us. I, uh..." She stopped speaking before she got choked up and cleared her throat.
"Are you two ready?" she asked.
"We have our gear," Aqib said, nodding at a pair of large backpacks leaning against one of the DCM branded trucks. "Camping gear, food and water for three days. Spare ammo, tools. We were told you had much more supplies yourself."
"Yup. I've got fresh food, enough for a couple of weeks for the four of us. Plus a couple months worth of dehydrated foods, MRE's and other food that'll keep for a while. I've got water and other shit to drink, camping gear, etcetera, etcetera. As long as you guys brought your own tents, we're golden."
"That is good," Aqib said.
"Do you have battery packs?" Mateen asked.
"Battery packs?" Glenda responded.
"Yes, for phones and other electronics. To keep them charged. I have a solar recharger, but it takes a long time, and it isn't always convenient to set it up."
Glenda shook her head. "Nope. Never been much for carrying a bunch of electronics around. Besides, I doubt our phones will work, where we're going."
Aqib grinned at his companion. "No video games until we're done, Mateen," he said. Mateen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
"Mateen is still a child at heart, even though he has children of his own," Aqib explained as he stepped forward to get a good look at the portal, still hovering in the middle of the room.
"As long as he can fight," Glenda said. Jack approached, finished with the field paperwork. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a rifle slung over the other. He still wore his armor.
"He fights like a cornered dog," Aqib said mildly. At Glenda's quirked eyebrow, he clarified. "He is very fierce."
"Good," Glenda said. She turned to Jack and gave him a quick kiss. "We ready?"
"Ayup," Jack confirmed. "All the paperwork's done, we're good to go."
Glenda pushed past Mateen and Aqib as they moved to pick up their packs. "I'll take them," she said. Mateen frowned, but Aqib simply nodded and stood back. She grabbed both packs and sent them to hammerspace, accepting Jack's pack and giving it the same treatment. Mateen shook his head slowly, but Aqib seemed unimpressed.
"Okay, let's boogie," Glenda said and strode through the portal before she could work up any doubts.
----
"None of 'em rotted," Jack said. "They're all mummified. All the plants are dead, but none of them are rotted, either." He stood in what seemed like a small park, a few trees growing in clusters at the four corners, and an open field of dead grass in the middle. Bodies lay strewn about, adults and children alike. Many lay draped over the benches, or slumped in a pile in front of them. One cluster of small bodies had a large, rubber-ish ball laying next to them, as if they'd died in the middle of some sort of game.
Glenda eyed the surroundings. They hadn't encountered a single living being in the hours they'd been moving through this city. "What do you think happened here?" she asked.
"I'll be honest, I ain't got a fucking clue, darlin'," Jack said. They stood in silence for a bit, reflecting on what they'd seen and wondering about it. An entire city, dead. No signs of decay, except for rusted metal. Glenda had seen large piles of rust that she took to be cars, based on the plastic and ceramic components still in them, along with the bodies. An entire city, dead. And yet the bodies remained. They'd held up better than the metal, for sure.
Mateen came around a corner at a jog and made a beeline for them. "Aqib has found something, a fresh body. Recently killed."
"Lead the way," Glenda told him. They followed him back around the corner, two blocks down and then around another corner, where they found Aqib standing over a bloody, headless corpse, resting against a building under a sign written in a language Glenda didn't recognize.
"Sheeit," Jack said as they drew up. "That's certainly out of place. Wonder where his head got to."
"Over here," Mateen said. He gestured to what looked like a bus stop with a trash can next to it. There, fetched up against the trash can was a severed head. A sparse trail of blood led from the body to it. Glenda walked over and crouched down, peering at the head.
"I think this is Garcia," she said. She pulled the photo she had of the man from hammerspace, checking it against the head.
"I think you're right," Jack said, peering over her shoulder. "And the chopped off head. That sounds like something Dylan would do."
"I think we're on the right track then," Glenda said. "But how do we know what direction he went?"
She straightened up as they all looked around. Nothing stood out to them.
A moment later, a terrifying roar sounded from off in the distance. They all turned towards it, weapons rising.
"I do not like that, but I think we know what direction to check now," Aqib said.
"'Fraid I gotta agree with ya," Jack said.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13]
When my screams subsided, malevolent laughter filled the uneasy silence. Discordant, cruel laughter that sounded as though it bubbled from underwater. I turned around to see the macabre faces of the Kane sisters behind me, pressed against the window of their cottage, black teeth chattering.
“Where did they take him?” I demanded. My anger increased their delight.
“Where did they take him?” Margery mocked, my own voice coming out of her blackened mouth.
“Poor, poor girl lost her puppy!” Margaretta cackled.
I felt the rage rise within me, but I was utterly helpless. I knew they had the information we needed, but even if they were willing to speak, they could not be trusted.
Suddenly, their faces changed. Their dead white eyes widened in terror; their smiles had melted. Mina shrieked, a cacophonous cry that sent my hands to my ears.
It was René. Their eyes were fixed on him. His very presence caused them to tremble in fear.
“What is he doing here?” Margery hissed.
“Come back to hurt us again, he has!” Mina shrieked.
“Devil take you, vampire!” Margaretta cried.
I looked at René in astonishment. He wore an expression I had not seen before, a smile that was almost cruel.
“Well if it isn’t the old charlatan sisters!” He said. “I would have never guessed that she would still be keeping you around, but then again, she’s always loved the most pathetic of sycophants.”
“Be gone, vampire! Be gone!” They shouted.
“I would love nothing more. But you heard Nora. You have information we need. Where did they take the werewolf?”
Margery turned to me.
“Stay away from him, girl! Stay away!”
“He hurt us! He hurt us!” Mina moaned.
“How about we make a deal?” I said, thinking quickly. The sisters cocked their terrible heads in curiosity. “You can tell me your story. Tell me what he did. But in return, you must tell us where they took our friend.”
René raised his eyebrows, but did not protest.
“And I will know when you are lying,” he added menacingly.
The sisters looked at each other and began to nod eagerly.
“The girl says she will listen!” They whispered excitedly. I felt a pang of pity.
“Do you agree?”
“Yes,” they hissed, the glee returning to their voices. The door to the cottage opened.
I stepped inside with René close behind me. The sisters glared at him.
“Whatever you’re going to do, do it without drawing blood this time.” I said, remembering the claw marks in my wrists.
“No appreciation for the fine art of channeling,” muttered Margaretta.
The sisters gestured to the chairs at the table. René and I sat, but I kept my arms tightly crossed. The sisters closed their eyes and moved from side to side rhythmically, putting themselves into a trance. They moaned and their mouths opened, emitting a thick, ectoplasmic mist.
“Gross,” I whispered to René, who smirked in response.
The mist enveloped us and our ramshackle surroundings, along with the sisters, vanished. In their place appeared a mid-19th century parlor: a finely carved mantle draped in black crepe, the ornamental mirror on top covered with black cloth. It was night, the heavy damask curtains were drawn, elegant oil lamps were lit on a large oak table, also draped in black. The sisters sat at the table, very much alive, dressed in ostentatious displays of mourning, their wide skirts spread across the chairs they sat in, jet bracelets clattering at their wrists. Human hands wreathed by delicate lace grabbed those of an older man who trembled with emotion.
A small audience observed the séance, dressed for an evening’s entertainment. There was one man in particular, whose clothing was undoubtedly the finest, with a dazzling silver jacquard waistcoat. Though he wore a pair of blue tinted spectacles, I immediately recognized him as René. His brown hair was longer, combed away from his face and curling just under his ears. He was smiling, that same strange smile I had seen before.
The sisters made their usual dramatic entreaties to the Great Beyond and the crowd gasped when the spirits responded intelligently to their questions with a series of rapping sounds. The man begged them to contact the spirit of his young daughter who had perished in a carriage accident decades before. The sisters obliged, making contact through the rapping. With a flourish, Mina threw her head back and out of her mouth squeaked the voice of a small child. The man collapsed in tears. Women in the audience dabbed their eyes with their handkerchiefs. René was no longer smiling.
When the audience had shuffled out, René lingered. Margaretta gave him an unctuous grin.
“How may we assist you, sir?”
“I would like to schedule a…private appointment.” He lowered his glasses and fixed his grey eyes on her. Margaretta’s eyes widened. She stared vacantly as though in a daze.
“We are entirely booked. We are in such demand, after all. We leave Rochester for our world tour this Saturday.” Margery said. Mina peered at René over her sister’s arm and smiled. He winked at her.
“Such lovely ladies you are. Money should be no issue, of course. I think you will find that you are free tomorrow evening” he said slowly. Margaretta nodded.
“Yes, yes. We are.”
“Very good. I very much look forward to our session.”
“Yes!” Shouted Mina, clearly enamored.
René smiled and put on his top hat, taking his leave.
The next night, the sisters eagerly awaited their guest. René arrived with a veiled woman on his arm, wearing lace gloves, matching the sisters in a black silk gown. Mina looked slightly disappointed to see the woman, but the other sisters grinned at her obvious finery, expecting a hefty sum for their services.
“Ladies, I hope you do not mind I have brought my wife,” he said, almost unable to hide the sinister grin that crept across his face.
“Of course, of course, welcome, madam!”
The veiled woman made no response. René escorted her to the table and they joined hands. The sisters began their show: the room erupted in rapping.
“The spirits are many in the ether tonight,” Margery moaned. “To whom do you wish to speak?”
“I wish to contact the spirit of our deceased child.” René said, watching the sisters carefully.
“Ah yes, it is a child who has appeared before me now, a beautiful child!” Margaretta cried. “Child, rap twice for yes, or once for no. Are these your beloved parents before you?”
Two distinct raps were heard on the table. Mina made an exaggerated gasp.
“The child wishes to speak through my sister!” Margery shouted.
Mina began to speak in that same squeaking voice as the previous evening. René could no longer contain his fury. With one swift movement René rose and flipped over the table before them. He grabbed Mina by the neck.
“I have no child, you insidious swindlers!” He shouted. He dug his fangs into Mina’s neck and the sisters began to scream. The witch stood and removed her veil, green eyes glowing, black teeth grinning. She raised her hand and the remaining two sisters rose into the air. René threw the corpse of Mina at their feet. They sobbed hideously, begging the witch for mercy.
“I have no use for such talentless fools,” she said.
“We will do anything, we will be your most faithful servants,” they cried still suspended in the air.
“Ask them how much money they’ve bled from the grieving, how they’ve bankrupted their victims in the name of their lost loved ones!” René said, enraged, fangs bared. “Let me finish with them!”
The witch sighed. “Forgive my friend with his tedious sense of justice. Would you really do anything? Bind yourselves to me for all time?”
“Yes! Yes!” Margery and Margaretta cried.
“Idiots,” René muttered.
The witch curled her hand into a fist and the women began to cough, hands clawing at their necks. Their eyes rolled in the back of their heads. The body of Mina rose to join them. With a sickening snap, the necks of Margery and Margaretta broke and they joined their sister in death. The corpses’ mouths opened, so wide the jaws were broken and three familiar specters climbed out. The ghosts fell at the feet of the witch, making obsequies, hailing her their mistress.
The mist that had descended around the cottage dispersed, leaving the sisters glaring at us.
“Time to fulfill your end of the bargain,” René demanded. “We don’t have much time.”
They chittered angrily and turned their ghoulish heads to me.
“Girl! Have you nothing to say of the crimes of your beau?”
What I had seen had certainly shocked me, but it was something I could not bear to process at the moment.
“He’s right. Show us where they took Jake.”
“No lies.” René warned.
The sisters grumbled among themselves, but once again broke into a trance. A vision appeared before us. It was the river, a great gray mist hanging over it. A large, shadowy structure pushed its way through, revealing the towers of an elaborate stone castle. The castle was familiar to me. Around here, we call it Bellevue Castle, an abandoned Gilded Age flight of fancy on a private island that is now our most famous tourist site. During the winter months, it is closed to guests, leaving the island abandoned. The vision dissolved into smoke.
René stood up to leave.
“You’ll never reach him before dawn,” hissed Margery.
“Yes, yes, the sun is rising, revenant!” Margaretta cackled.
He ignored them. I followed him out, feeling their hateful stares at my back, leaving them to howl and complain among themselves. They had not been lying. The sky had lightened considerably, a thin line of orange had appeared on the horizon. René cursed and shielded his face.
“Let’s get to my cottage,” I said. We arrived just as I began to feel the sun behind me. René had bolted for the dark bedroom. I found him sitting on the bed, his face in his hands, shoulders tense with frustration. I was frustrated too. We’d been outmaneuvered and I feared for Jake’s safety. Would she make him the object of her retaliation? I was certain of it. But there was no way I could sail for the castle without René. I may have a death warrant, but I do not have a death wish.
“We leave as soon as the sun sets tonight,” he said, as though convincing himself.
“I don’t think we have a choice,” I said.
“Not if we want to find Jake.”
“Do you think…do you think we’ll be too late?” I didn’t want to contemplate it.
“I do not think she would kill him without us there to witness it. She wouldn’t deprive herself of the spectacle. We have to understand that she is anticipating exactly what we are planning on doing.”
“This is it then,” I said, trying to sound strong, though I felt like a fist were gripping my heart. René lifted his head and took my hands.
“I won’t let it happen,” he said. “I swear to you.”
“I don’t think that’s something you can promise, René.”
I pulled my hands back from his. It was hard to look at him, when Mina’s face flashed before me, eyes filled with terror just before he buried his fangs into her neck.
“I realize that you have not seen me feed before,” he said quietly.
“Feed? You make it sound so…casual.”
He raised my chin to his face, gray eyes resolute.
“I have spent many decades in utter misery, disgusted by myself, by what I am. That self-loathing is still with me and will be forever. But I cannot change the past and I cannot restore what I have lost. If I can channel this bloodlust, this propensity for violence, against those who have done evil, then perhaps through evil, I can accomplish something good, spare an innocent. This thought was the only thing that sustained me in that century of servitude by her side. This is something … something I hope you never have to understand.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“If you return while I am at rest, remember—”
“You’ll look kinda dead. I know.”
He smiled sadly.
I was desperate for the warmth of the shower. The cold within me was not merely the effect of winter, but a numbness that I couldn’t shake. I tried to reach back to a couple months ago, before the sky had changed to that ghastly green, before the abyss opened before me. It was as though I were viewing another person’s life on a different planet. And yet the life I am living now does not seem like my own either. I am straddling the lives of two strangers.
I tried to imagine death. I tried to imagine not existing. Of course, I could not. Who can? I had to hope that there would be peace, that the spirits were not lying to comfort me. After all, I had already witnessed the existence of far more unlikely things.
The sound of the water soothed me. I stepped inside, relishing those first few drops, immersing my body, emptying my mind. The future didn’t matter. At that moment, I was alive and that was glorious.
I don’t know how long I had been standing there, when the water began to feel different. Thicker. Metallic tasting. I opened my eyes to find myself covered in blood, it was pouring out of the shower head. My skin began to burn, my hair falling out in clumps, my teeth loosening and I spat them out. I screamed.
I found myself on the floor of the shower, bruised but wet from water alone. My hands fluttered to my mouth, my hair. Nothing was amiss. I dragged myself upright, trying not to sob. She would take even those small moments away from me… I toweled off with trembling hands and allowed myself a brief glance in the mirror, too fearful of what might stare back if I lingered. Beyond some considerably dark rings under my eyes, I looked relatively normal.
Before, I had contemplated watching the full sunrise, sitting in the sunshine until eventually dozing on the couch. Instead, I went back to the dark bedroom and climbed under the covers of my bed. In my current state, my only comfort came in the form of the reanimated corpse next to me. I curled up beside him and fell asleep.
++
René woke me up at sunset. Despite everything, I actually felt well-rested and at ease. René prepared by downing a large thermos of blood. I secured my uncle’s knife under my coat in a leather belt sheath, my movements calm, almost mechanical. René handed me my silver bracelets and a wave of sadness passed through me.
“We don’t know what state he is in,” he whispered. I nodded and put them on my wrists.
We set sail in silence, the boat’s movements for once not triggering nausea. It was desperately cold on the water, despite the promise of spring in the near future. The cold struck through my gloves and burned my face. René was clearly not bothered by the climate; his coat wasn’t even zipped. He stared ahead with his brows furrowed, scanning all around us for ice and other enemies.
I thought of the summer and of the river crowded with life, with people laughing, speeding past each other on their boats, picnicking under the turrets of our destination, Bellevue Castle.
“Do you know the story of Bellevue Castle, René?” I asked.
“Manhattan hotelier wanted to build the grandest home in all of the Islands, but his wife died before it could be completed.”
“And in his grief, the husband asked all the workers to put down their tools and step away, leaving the castle a half-finished husk, a monument to lost love.” I added.
“I actually think he just ran out of money. I spent some time on that construction site in the 1890s.”
I laughed.
“Of course, you did. Don’t burst the bubble of anyone on the tourist board, alright? That place is a big money maker around here.”
It was good to smile with him, even if just for a moment.
As we neared the castle, a mist descended around us, just as in the vision of the sisters. The air felt heavy and old, as though rife with mildew and rot, difficult to inhale. The visibility severely decreased, but René was able to continue to navigate towards our destination, its hulking shadows barely detectible even by his eyes.
Our boat was hit by a wave, as though from the wake of a boat. René and I looked at each other, thinking the same thing: there was absolutely no one else on the river. A great creaking sound echoed all around us, the groaning of wood and metal. A veritable flotilla of ships and boats broke the surface all around us, arising from the depths glowing a ghostly green. There were wrecked wooden speed boats, steel-hulled freighters from the turn of the century, coal steamers, massive three-masted schooners, and frigates built for the wars of two hundred years ago.
No crew piloted these vessels, which groaned and sighed with the sadness of their years at the bottom. Something was weaving its way through the wrecks, howling through the air with the screeching of a cyclone. René leaned forward, craning his neck to spot it, when a rotting hand shot out of the water and grabbed his shoulder. He pulled it off, but another joined the attack, and another, until a great host of drowned, rotting corpses were pulling at him, threatening to board the boat.
I grabbed a paddle and whacked at them, but there were too many. They were pulling him overboard, despite our best efforts. I clutched his arm and with all my strength tried to drag him back in. The cacophony was approaching, my hair whipped around my face as the freezing winds accelerated. Something caught my boot and my grip on René’s hand slipped away. I was hurtled into the swirling air. I saw below me René’s struggling body dipping below the surface of the river, drowned dead glaring up at me lifelessly.
The whirlwind hummed with the cries of miserable souls. I was suspended among them, falling upwards and upwards until I could breathe no more.
x

The previous ones:
https://old.reddit.com/MauLecomments/115yiq7/spacewars_hackfraudery_how_esb_is_a_lot_closer_to/ "SpaceWars HackFraudery: How ESB is a lot closer to TFA and TLJ in terms of "undoing the victory from the previous movie" and Mauler was WROOOOOOOOOONG"
https://old.reddit.com/MauLecomments/11fytsc/an_example_of_mauler_as_well_as_plinkett/ "An example of Mauler (as well as Plinkett) significantly overestimating the OT's "cause&effect motivation consistency sense-making" - and what possible implications this could have"
https://old.reddit.com/MauLecomments/11fytsc/an_example_of_mauler_as_well_as_plinkett/japzym (bit of a correction/expansion of the OP in an added comment - I should probably post a revised version of the OP somewhere at some point)
https://old.reddit.com/MauLecomments/11hki5e/ot_discontinuity_thread_number_3_schroedingers/ ""OT discontinuity" thread number 3: Schroedinger's gigantic space distances"
https://old.reddit.com/MauLecomments/11q2vwl/ot_discontinuities_thread_4_magic_invisibility/ ""OT discontinuities" thread 4: magic invisibility charms, except not; + First Empire competence issues"
https://old.reddit.com/MauLecomments/11uhedc/ot_discontinuity_thread_5_sending_x_number_of/ ""OT discontinuity" thread 5: sending x number of TIEtroopers + the homing beacon plan"
https://old.reddit.com/MauLecomments/11vbnud/6th_and_probably_almost_last_thread_anhtfa/ "6th (and probably almost last) thread: ANH/TFA opening plot holes and Tatooine/Jakku comparisons"
1a) When covering Rey and Finn's escape from Jakku, here starting at 1:56:30 (Part 2), Mauler says this:

But her navigation of the debris with the Falcon is still undeniably ridiculous - and that closes off the scene which is a horrible mess, but it happened fast, so maybe some people don't notice it so much.

It should be mentioned that they move on to the scene in space with Han Solo very soon, and that up to this point the situation of having this incredibly important droid, this man who knows the importance of the Droid and the inner workings of the First Order, and this woman who is an ace pilot as well as the future most powerful Jedi to exist, that nudges Kylo to kill Snoke, and can get Luke out of retirement, all meeting up, is incredibly lucky.
"Magic and coincidences - oh look that, that's just the Millennium Falcon, it's just sitting there! Oh we gotta run into HAN SOLO - ah heeyy, what a coincidence!!"
If not for Rey, both Finn and BB-8 would likely have been captured or killed by now.
The interesting comparison is that in Episode 4, Obi-wan is seeking out a good pilot with the interest of smuggling them - and so they get the attention of just that, and they pay money for that service; thus Han Solo smuggles them out with strong piloting.
Here though - Lady Luke is smilin'.

First of all, Finn plays an essential role by being the one shooting the gun and blowing up the TIE fighters - the second one in that impressive collaborative maneuver that they did at the end;
so saying that "Rey saved Finn and BB-8" isn't really that accurate - Rey and Finn both saved themselves as well as BB-8.
So now to the Ep4 comparison again:

The interesting comparison is that in Episode 4, Obi-wan is seeking out a good pilot with the interest of smuggling them - and so they get the attention of just that, and they pay money for that service; thus Han Solo smuggles them out with strong piloting.
Here though - Lady Luke is smilin'.

The phrasing here doesn't make 100% clear what exactly his point is, but judging by the context as well as the rest of this review, it's that the Ep4 examples makes a lot more sense because Obi-Wan and Luke seek out a professional pilot, instead of... Luke ace-piloting his way out of a hairy situation as the Troopers have caught up to them?
Implying that that would've been nonsensical (to some degree at least) which is why ANH didn't do it since it doesn't engage in such nonsense - while what it does is all based on established consistency & logic?
However this is a highly questionable assertion, to say the least.
Obi-Wan needs to find a transport in the Mos Eisley spaceport because... he doesn't have a spaceship of his own; which necessarily leads to the question, why doesn't he have a space ship?
If he's there waiting for the right moment to get called into action, and possibly recruit / start training Luke, or protect him (which may very well involve escaping with him from the planet, if a certain type of situation were to arise), why doesn't he keep a spaceship or 2 tucked away somewhere so he's prepared for emergency situations like this?
He doesn't even have a speeder apparently? Why?

"I need your help, Luke - she needs your help. I'm getting too old for this sort of thing..."
"I can't get involved... I've got work to do. It's not that I like the Empire, I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. It's all such a long way from here..."
"That's your uncle talking."
"My uncle... how am I ever gonna explain this?"
"Learn about the Force, Luke."
"Look, I can take you as far as Anchorhead - you can get a transport there to Mos Eisley or wherever you're going."
"You must do what you feel is right, of course."

Mauler's phrase about "Han's strong piloting" kind of almost implies that Obi-Wan couldn't have pulled that off, which also leads to the question - why assume Obi-Wan was a bad pilot (or not at all), and/or what does the film establish about this? Could it indeed somehow be the case that he can't really fly a spaceship?

"No, my father didn't fight in the wars; he was a navigator on a spice freighter."
"That's what your uncle told you. He didn't hold with your father's ideals; thought he should have stayed here - and not gotten involved."
"You fought in the Clone Wars?"
"Yes - I was once a Jedi Knight, the same as your father."
"I wish I'd known him..."
"He was the best star pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior. I understand you've become quite a good pilot yourself!
And he was a good friend...
Which reminds me - I have something here for you. Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your uncle wouldn't allow it; he feared you might follow old Obi-Wan on some damn fool idealistic crusade like your father did."

So he was a Jedi Knight just like Skywalker Sr.; they went on an idealistic crusade together - fought together in the Clone Wars (or certainly Obi-Wan did - Skywalker just in "wars", but 99% the Clone ones), and he's describing Skywalker as a "cunning warrior" and "the best pilot";
how much room do any of these lines leave for the interpretation that despite being "a Jedi Knight, same as Skywalker", and even a Jedi instructor i.e. to Vader, he was in fact, unlike Skywalker, a lousy warrior and a lousy pilot if a pilot at all?
Especially given how in final act of the film, Luke's emerging Force powers enhance his starfighter abilities?
I think one can safely say here that virtually none - that he may not have been quite as ace as Skywalker, but probably very good and competent at the very least - and the movie simply didn't need to go out of its way to assure everyone that yes, since Obi-Wan shared Skywalker's "Jedi Knight" and "fought in the wars together" attributes, by extension he also shared the "great warrior & pilot" attributes listed in the same paragraph.
So.... all but confirmed as a skilled ex-warrior pilot, and completely inexplicably without a ship or even speeder, how is his need for a pirate pilot with a ship "logically justified", exactly?
Doesn't seem to be justified at all - and if it isn't, then literally the only reason why the movie had him "have to" go to Mos Eisley and pay for a pilot, is because it wanted them to go to a city with colorful aliens, enter a Western salon, and team up with their new pirate pilot co-protagonist in this way;
quite obviously not a case of rational ground-up plot construction.
So if this intention by the movie to team them up with Solo, or specifically do that in this fashion, at this point, is taken out of the picture - what could've happened alternatively?
Luke's got a speeder, Obi-Wan's got a spaceship tucked away either right by his home, or in some kinda secret cave somewhere or who knows (and probably has a speeder as well) - and, to maintain the spirit of their Mos Eisley escape, the Stormtroopers have now followed the trail from Luke's home to Ben's and are closing in on them;
or perhaps Luke catches their attention by going against Ben's advice and speeding to the homestead;
either way now there's a tense action sequence where Obi-Wan and Luke are both chased by the Stormtroopers and have to quickly get away and leave the planet - and both are skilled pilots, as already established.
Would it somehow been out-of-character for this movie if Luke then jumped into some kind of co-pilot or gotten behind a turret or something, and played an essential role in escaping & fighting off the pursuing Troopers - thus showcasing these skills that he's been said to have, and maybe even already an early hint of his inherited Force potential?
And if yes, how so? That's pretty much exactly what proceeds to happen in the middle and final acts of this movie - and by all looks, really the only reason it doesn't already happen right here and now, at the same spot where Rey&Finn are escaping Jakku in this fashion, is because the movie wanted them to go to the spaceport city and meet Han there instead: an arbitrary creative decision.
The only thing that would've been out-of-character for ANH, would be to make this sequence as over-the-top as its TFA counterpart - however it wouldn't have had the technology for that anyway, and besides, the regular gunslinging in TFA is also over-the-top compared to ANH, along with the visual gags during those shoot-outs;
so yes, ANH would've had a more "tone down", no-nonsense version of that, but that's about the only expected difference there:

But her navigation of the debris with the Falcon is still undeniably ridiculous - and that closes off the scene which is a horrible mess, but it happened fast, so maybe some people don't notice it so much.

; not the core concept of Luke (and Obiwan) not taking a backseat to Solo.
At this point a structured breakdown of both Luke's and Rey's initial skillsets and lvl'ing up arcs is in order:
1b)
Rey can fight of 3 (unarmed, in this case) dudes with a staff, struggling somewhat, ending up taking a light punch or something, but basically being quite on top of things there.
She threatens a grumpy asshole of seemingly very limited mobility on an ultra-slow horse with a knife - he has a staff but clearly just uses it to try and throw his weight around, having no apparent ability or willingness to fight.
How much her staff and knife skills extend beyond what was shown here, is unknown and remains unknown.
Never used a gun before somehow??

"You might need this."
"I think I can handle myself."
"I know you do - that's why I'm giving it to you. Take it. You know how to use one of those?"
"Yeah. You pull the trigger."
"A little bit more to it than that - you got a lot to learn. You got a name?"

Has "flown ships before" though:

"That was some flying." "Thanks!" "How did you do that?!" "I don't know!" "No one trained you? No one?!" "I've flown some ships, but I've never left the planet!"

and pulls off a ultra-feat she herself is surprised by.
Then gets told her destiny by Maz, has a mystical experience with the sentient lightsaber;
and shortly later pulls out the gun for the first time, and almost immediately (small hiccup with the "safety", and 1 missed shot a second before the successful one) "sharpshoots" a trooper (after he misses her) - looking startled and amazed immediately afterwards, either at having been immediately able to hit someone at such a long distance, or perhaps at having personally killed somebody for the 1st time? It's unclear.
While she keeps sharpshooting Stormtroopers but also still running from them in visible distress, Han is seen gunslinging like mad, and then Poe is also seen taking down one TIE after another while also hitting individual Troopers on the ground, impressing Finn. (The prominently filmed X-Wing(s) shown picking off the troopers holding them as well as numerous other ground and air targets a slight bit earlier, seemingly aren't strictly speaking confirmed to all be the same one - however it's most likely Poe as well. If not, that just means more over-the-top aces in this Resistance fleet who aren't main characters.)
Then her telepathy / mind control powers are "unlocked" by Kylo.
Then Finn tries to "rise to the occasion" by fighting Kylo, after having seen Rey get knocked unconscious by getting pushed into a tree - lacking the Force (aside from having received a bit of Maz' blessing as well), but evidently having been trained in melee combat incl. with energy blades, just like his earlier stormtrooper adversary.
After his defeat, Rey in turn rises to the occasion, and manages to (intuitively? it happens off-screen while focusing on Kylo trying to do the same) summon the lightsaber and starts putting up a better fight than Finn - only having staff brawling experience in terms of concrete combat practice (and not even against other staff/weapon wielders, at least from what was shown), but now having a serious amount of Force access (which seemingly replaces the need for concrete practice, as has been long established in 4 and 5);
as she's getting pushed against the edge of the chasm, she "taps into the Force" even more, along with getting a new sense of determination and fury, and then proceeds to overpower him.
When Luke

"Sandpeople, or worse... come on - let's go have a look. Come on!"

, he takes a rifle with him, looking quite confident - however it's unknown if he's already shot at moving targets or what not.
Then as he gets overwhelmed by a Tusken raider, and manages to dodge a few of his staff attacks while on the ground and unarmed, before eventually getting knocked out - it's not quite clear how good he would've been in such a brawl had he been prepared; apparently above 0, but beyond that, who knows.
Then he gets approached by the 2 thugs in the cantina, clearly not looking like he's ready to start a fight with them, but also not all that intimidated - even when when the guy grabs him and threatens to kill him. The impression is that he's just determined to not take them very seriously, and doesn't really expect them to attack him if he refuses to give them attention? And then he gets pushed across the room, without putting up any resistance, but also again getting surprised after not really having been prepared (due to some kind of arrogance or naivity) - judging by this moment alone, he may as well have been a complete total zero rookie when it comes to fighting, but just like the Tusken attack it doesn't rule out he can generally do better.

"I understand you've become quite a good pilot yourself!"
"10 thousand?! We could almost buy our own ship for that!" "But who's gonna fly it, kid - you?" "You bet I could - I'm not such a bad pilot myself. We don't have to sit here and listen-"
"It's not impossible - I used to bullseye womp rats in my T-16 back home, they're not much bigger than 2 meters."

While it's not clear whether he's "ever left the planet", he's established in dialogue as already a "quite good" / "not bad" pilot - and later as having performed a feat the difficulty of which isn't really consistently established:
One pilot thinks it's "impossible even for a computer", but he replies that it's "not impossible" - and judging by his tone he doesn't even mean that it's particularly impressive either.
However then Gold Leader fails at it "even with a targeting computer" (one is probably to assume that that skeptical pilot was referring to this, and not an automated computer-guided shot?) - and Luke is then seen also starting to use that targeting computer (did he also when shooting those womp rats?), but eventually turns it off to rely on the Force instead.
So it was impossible even for a computer after all? Is that because they're flying faster? But then if those womprat shots had been at done lower speeds, why did he bring it up in the first place?

"Great shot, kid! That was one in a million!"

So... Han's exaggerating, or was it really a "1 in a million shot" that could've only been nailed supernaturally? Or they could've nailed it after a several more attempts, but the supernatural aid just increased the odds for this last second attempt?
But if this task was difficult enough to likely miss at the 1st or 2nd attempt, shouldn't Luke have thought of that when recounting his story? They'd probably know they'd have limited time up there, right?
Or, if the womprats hadn't been too difficult to hit on the 1st attempt, and the speeds back home were comparable, making it valid for him to bring that up - then why did he need to "let go and trust the Force" when he hadn't needed that back home? Again, had he been using targeting computers to hit those womprats? If yes, him putting away the computer here is a bigger deal - however if not, hadn't he already succeeded at it without the Force or a computer? Why did he need it now - again, just to increase the odds since this was the last ditch attempt against a ticking clock?
Point is, according to these various lines and attempts/methods, it's quite unclear just how impossible or just difficult or even unimpressive the task of hitting that 2 meter target in fact was - not clear how impressive the climactic shot was, and not clear how impressive Luke's skills back home had been either.
So while him snapping at Han like this in the bar may come off as some kind of over-confidence, and Obi-Wan even softly reins him in, it's ultimately unclear at that point whether he really could've pulled that off or not - maybe Obi-Wan thinks he doesn't have the skills yet (but then he probably has those skills himself - or is he doubting them due to his age?), or maybe he thinks he does, and he himself does, but why throw away their chances with this good pilot they've just met and his impressive ship, and take chances by going to look to buy some other ship?
So depending on how cocky and irrational Luke is being during that outburst, he either has "never left the planet" and is only really "good" on a local semi-amateur level, and going into space would be serious uncharted territory for him - or in fact he is as good as he's saying, and could really pull this off.
Shortly after takeoff, he's seen being completely clueless about hyperspace travel - however that doesn't mean they would've been screwed on their own, since Obi-Wan obviously knows about hyperspace travel and he could've handled that part.
However is that the only aspect of piloting that he's ignorant about, or is he severely lagging behind in other departments as well?
Well - after what's revealed about his backstory in that Yavin briefing, if he was already pulling off shots that Han would praise as "1 in a million" (even if hyperbolically) before the movie started, then that certainly raises him up quite highly;
however perhaps he's still lacking in the "evasive maneuvers against Star Destroyers" department?
How much time passes between their jump to hyperspace and this:

"Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"I felt a great disturbance in the Force... - as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror - and were suddenly silenced... I fear something terrible has happened.
You'd better get on with your exercises."
"Well, you can forget your troubles with those Imperial slugs - I told you I'd outrun them."
"Don't everybody thank me at once..."

One has to assume that the "Imperial slugs" he's talking about there are the same Stardestroyers (or, well, "Imperial Cruisers" - they weren't yet called "Star Destroyers" in this 1st movie) that they escaped from on Tatooine - however by "outrunning them" Han clearly can't be referring to just having jumped to hyperspace in front of their noses, since evidently enough time has passed for them to have started playing chess and began training with the lightsaber since that point; and he's only outrun them just now.

"Why don't you outrun 'em? I thought you said this thing was fast!"
"Watch your mouth, kid, or you're gonna find yourself floating home. We'll be safe enough once we make the jump to hyperspace. Besides, I know a few maneuvers.

"Safe enough", well this all adds up - looks like in this movie, unlike ESB, the Imperial ships can chase them through hyperspace/lightspeed; and Han just outran them after what might be a 30min or 1h chase, or who knows how long/short.
This is then further confirmed a few minutes later:

Obi-Wan: "It's an Imperial fighter."
Luke: "It followed us!"
Obi-Wan: "No - it's a short-range fighter."
Han: "There aren't any bases around here, where did it come from."

So "long-range ships" could have followed them through that hyperspace trip? (Despite Han having thought he'd lost them?)
At the end of V, they jump to lightspeed, leaving Vader's ship without any chances of catching or tracking them anymore - Vader walks off the bridge, looking defeated and even too depressed go lash out at Piett;
that wouldn't have worked in the universe of ANH?
So when they "invent the new hyperspace tracking tech" in by TLJ, that's only a "new" ability according to ESB's changed universe - before this continuity shift, a similar thing was already possible in ANH.
TFA-Han's ability to lightspeed-jump through a planetary shield, while inconsistent with how he introduced the mechanics of hyperspace travel to Luke:

"It'll take a few moments to get the coordinates from the navi-computer." "Are you kidding?! At the rate they're gaining??" "Traveling through hyperspace ain't like dustin' crops, boy! Without precise calculations, we'd fly right through a star, or bounce too close to a supernova... and that would end your trip real quick, wouldn't it?"

, doesn't seem to stand out that much anymore...
Also to go off on a short tangent here:

"Did your men deactivate the hyperdrive on the Millennium Falcon?" >"Yes, my Lord."

Last time they placed a "homing beacon" and tracked them to Yavin, but now - despite having screwed with the ship in an analogous situation - they've only "deactivated the hyperdrive";
had they also put a tracking device on it, just in case, they could've tracked them down, attempted to capture them and Luke again, and also found their space base - unless of course the Falcon's crew had the bright idea to think of this possibility, and then (instead of immediately forgetting about it moments later) either change ships or find&deactivate the homing beacon.
(Also if a Star Destroyer had showed up at their space base's doorsteps, or even several, couldn't they have attacked it with X-Wings just like the last time? Motti said they were generally more vulnerable than the Death Star - and even if they don't happen to have an equivalent Achilles' Heel, the RotJ fighters still managed to destroy the Super Stardestroyer.)
Also:

"Lord Vader - our ships have completed their scan of the area and found nothing. If the Millennium Falcon went into lightspeed, it'll be on the other side of the galaxy by now."
"Alert all commands. Calculate every possible destination along their last known trajectory."
"Yes, my Lord. We'll find them."
"Don't fail me again - Admiral."
"Alert all commands. Deploy the fleet."

So now the Falcon did jump to lightspeed - can't they at least have tried the same approach? That Piett even showed such confidence about? Or was that just in case the Falcon hadn't jumped to lightspeed? (It certainly would've been absurd otherwise.)
This one's not too big of an issue if it's interpreted as Vader just being desperate / refusing to give up and Piett trying to be optimistic and not get killed on the spot; what "trajectory" was he even referring to here, given how all the Falcon had been doing this whole time was fly around in curves and circles while trying to evade them? The trajectory they took when flying at the Stardestroyer's window? Or some earlier point? If it was supposed to make sense, then it seems very hard to explain how so.
Aaaand, for a second tangent:

Obi-Wan: "A fighter that size couldn't get this deep into space, on its own?.."
Luke: "He.. must've gotten lost, been part of a convoy or something..."

Other than the issue of Ben repeating almost the same exact thought that Han voiced moments ago, there are other confusing things about this sequence:

Han: "There aren't any bases around here, where did it come from."

By "no bases" does he mean he's not picking up any big stations / hyperspace-able ships on his scanners, or that there are no known ones in this area (as if the Empire doesn't have lots of mobile "bases"? a mobile "convoy" could've been an explanation too, of course) - or that there are no planets/moons around here?

"Look at him, he's heading for that small moon!.."
"Think I can get him before he gets there - he's almost in range."
"That's no moon - it's a space station..."
"It's too big to be a space station..."

Han hadn't picked up the Death Star on his scanners (which, if that's what he was referring to, should've been a lot wider than what the naked eye could see, since the Death Star was still too far away to be even visible at that moment), and no one showed surprise at there being a "moon" not showing up on any of the charts.
While Han and the rest not immediately thinking of the possibility that "that TIE could've been dropped there by a Stardestroyer" (i.e. what Luke suggests about a possible "convoy" moments later) isn't really a problem, Han's line about "no bases around here" followed by them bumping into this giant moon-sized station remains quite inexplicable.
Back from the tangents:

Let me start by saying i was 100% upfront with him about all my mental health issues from the beginning, never have hidden that part of myself from anyone I was romantically interested in.i feel like it is the fair thing ro do since not everyone is cut out for a relationship with all the extra issues and i think they deserve to know asap.
We've been together almost 2 years, married for 6 months and during that time I've had a couple minor and two major depressive episodes where I actually ended up having a psychotic breakdown. I'm bipolar 2 with ADHD and I have been doing worse the last few years with more frequent mood changes and much longer and with greater intensity. We lived sepqarately at the time and he had to travel a lot for work so he missed a lot of how that looks. Sure he had an idea of what my depression was but he's never actually been with someone who was severly depressed before so he was going in blind. I'm currently in my third major depressive episode since our relationship has started only this time around I live with him and he has to see it every day.
I have had intrusive thoughts for the past 3 months and have indulged them many times without his knowledge. I have sought treatment but was unkindly accused by my psychiatrist that I was a danger to my husband despite never being volatile or showing any signs of violence. He also misdiagnosed me despite me being diagnosed many times before and so I stopped seeing him. But I've been trying to get some help and my body feels on the verge of a break down again.
So I have been feeling really selfish for putting him through so much and since he has been kinda less interested in me I asked him if he wanted to consider us separating if he didn't like "me" because unfortunately this is me. And when I did he was so upset he told me to shut up then he stopped talking and started ignoring me. I asked him if I could say something else, I wanted to tell him that I still loved him so much but worried that he was growing to resent me. Only he cut me off again and told me to shut up.
I sat in the bed next to him and was really sad and hurt that he didn't want to even talk to me at all. I just want him to be happy and often I feel like im robbing him of a real chance at it. I know he loves me, but, it also feels cruel for me to stay with sometimes knowing that I am unsure I can make him happy or feel loved. I have very little to give but he gets all I can muster, but I know a mentally stable woman could do much better than I can. And I told him this during my panic attack after I crawled off the bed. I couldn't lay there next to him feeling his anger towards me and his coldness. I knew he was upset and I felt unwelcome and also I could feel the panic rushing over me.
I recently found out that I'm pregnant with our 1st baby and I feel really guilty because I'm still having suicidal intrusive thoughts. I don't really want to do anything but im also scared of myself when im menatally fragile. Plus I know that me being depressed and anxious all he time isnt good for a baby either. So I decided to tell him about it all so we could figure out some kind of treatment plan and wound up having a full panic attack during. I sat shaking and crying on the floor trying to breathe right and he sat across the room stoic as ever laying on the bed silent. I asked if he was listening and said his name a few times then he snaped at me harshly and told me I was selfish and self absorbed and that I needed to stop dwelling in negative emotions. He lectured me about how I need to be stronger and learn to master my emotions and that i wasnt trying at all. And that it was so rude of me to do all that to him and be so disrespectful.
I told him that I wasn't enjoying feeling so bad and I don't like it and that I was trying to do better. But in response he said I never try and that I needed to stop now or else. I asked him what he meant and he told me he didn't like this me and I wasn't someone he liked being around anymore and it needed to stop.
I asked him if he still loved me or if he was upset at me becoming depressed and if it was negatively affecting how he veiws me as a person. He has been somewhat physically distant and preocupied on everything but me lately. So I also asked if he disliked having to spend time with me; or having to come home to me being so tired, exhausted, and sad.
( I want to add here I am still making an effort and on days I feel a bit better do clean and do hygiene and even make myself look nice and I even try to initiate sex with him and in occasion it works but lately I'm rejected 80% of the time if not more and i am trying very hard but i don't have tons of energy tokeep trying all the time without anything to show for it)
He told me that he did love me, but not like this and that this wasn't really me and I needed to get over it and go back to how I was. He told me I wasn't making any effort to change and that I needed to learn to compartmentalize my emotions and push them out. And that I needed to stop being so weird and mean. I felt so guilty and bad I wished I could take everything I said back and it never have happened.
He told me I was crossing to many lines and got very upset with me to the point that every word I said he told me to stop talking and I use got more anxious and began to panic again. So I got up and started to get dressed to go for a drive which usually calms me down (my usuals are drive, shower, walk) and he know that I sometimes need a moment to myself to get calm. I was gonna go for 10 minutes and then come back when he was less upset and I was less emotionally high strung. Besides that I felt like he didn't want me there anyway he was very cold and it was just making me feel even worse. I felt like I completely ruined our whole relationship and I wasn't sure what to do and needed time to think.
He stopped me as I was changing and told me I was about to make an irreversible decision and that if I left he would deadbolt the door and I couldn't come back inside. He was the most stern and serious I've ever heard him and he stood staring at me and I was scared to try to leave. And so I got back into my pajamas and stayed. I sat again crying on the floor and asked if I had left what that meant and he told me stupid questions get stupid answers and that I should know better.
I'm pregnant with his baby and he was going to lock me out of our house with nowhere to go (all my family is in another state and I don't have close enough friends to stay with) I'm so sad and idk what to do. And I panicked again and I made the statement above and he said nothing. He ignored me again. Then he told me to get in the bed and he said it again and so I did.
He told me I need to be he complet opposite of my current self and I need to do it asap. He said I needed a 180 and so i made a mental list of how i am and a list of the opposite of that. I couldn't sleep all night I felt so much self loathing because I asked if he could forgive me and he said nothing and i asked if he was gonna resent me and he said i should expect for him to and it was stupid to think otherwise. I still wanted out of the bed so bad so I told him I was sorry but since he was mad I didn't feel comfortable sleeping there and went to sleep on the floor and he told me that I'd I wanted to be forgiven I needed to get back in bed. And that actions speak louder than words and me trying to leave him wasn't convincing him that I was really sorry.
He was the first person I ever fully confided in about my depression and intrusive thoughts and I wish I never had. I spent years mastering my poker face and it looks like I have to wear it permanently now. I feel like I can't be myself anymore or he will not only stop loving me but also start hating me for it. And now I don't feel like I will ever be able to tell him or let him see me upset or depressed again because it obviously bothers him and he wants to not be a part of it.
The next day before bed he stood up ad told me to come here and hugged me. He said he was sorry but I said a lot of mean things and he wouldn't have gotten so upset if I hadn't. I misheard him and thought he was saying he had said mean things and I told him I forgave him and I said mean things too. He pulled away from me and looked down at me and said I know you did that's what I said, He also said he wouldn't have locked me out but that night I was 100% sure he would have and cut me out too. He told me when people burn bridges with him their dead to him, he blocks them and forget them and I really believed if I left it would have been over.
I love him and I also feel so betrayed by him. I am so scared of myself right now and I have no support. Idk what to do. But I'm worried that this was all my fault and that I am making everything worse. I thought we were partners and now I feel alone in myself, maybe I am selfish and self centered but I wasn't trying to be. I started pretending I was okay again and he seems pacified but idk how long I can keep that up tbh. I feel like I'm to blame and at fault though but I also feel to close to the situation to make a proper evaluation of what happened.
So did i screw up here ? I don't think I went about expressing myself the best way but I'm not sure where I stand in this situation. And now I feel extremely rejected and I feel like I am not sure how to move past this.

To sadly preface, my partner is less egalitarian than we discussed prior to marriage and always has been. Anything outside of physical handling of funds falls on me aside from actual bill pay. Even prior to change sin the last year. Including visits, time spent together, coordinating visits, our pets that were supposed to be shared but reside with me, facilitating family time with family nearby (even when they would mention wanting to see said folks). Partner has no issues spending on their entertainment though and attempts to push their ideas of free time on me even when I don't have room for it and barely have room for self care.
To jump into more recent and pertinent information:
We moved my partner to purchased home near duty station in May '22, married following week, moved me to partner's duty station the following week with our two cats. I left work and the area where we grew up, they just finished school.
Second big thing is (being brought up first for background) it had been decided by my partner (this is something I bring my picking up work regularly because of multiple events/life changes, they bring up to ask about daily progress) I should not get just a job unless it happens to be adding to my career plan or is a starter to my end goal career.
Eventually, that changed and it was decided I should look into anything. Which I had (I initially thought thankfully) been persistent in my searches and contact with prospective work, despite his encouragement to avoid just a job. I enjoy working and the balance I had prior to marriage and move. Not a huge thing, started reapplying everywhere for part-time. Even applied to many jobs I would not consider myself well geared towards or qualified for. It's now 10 months later. No luck. I have been stressed by the constant checking in and pushing of the subject in recent months. I've inquired why the change in attitude without much more than being ignored or reminded that I mentioned I enjoy working. As I didn't need the extra check ins, especially when nothing has been changing.
And home life is still unbalanced. This is the first and more important big thing, issues that have been present and are only now super glaring. Even on our "Honeymoon" every responsibility that wasn't literal money was mine. It was decided, until I got a job we would split responsibilities in our lives as such: Partner works (salaried and with ever changing work responsibilities) and pays bills (mortgage, insurances, home additions and groceries. I would care for the family (myself, them, our 2 cats, then a puppy, and then a kitten which both need training still) and home (including yard, and pool), then in Dec. 2022 their 16y/o sibling was added to our household. Sibling works about 16 hours a week, with school. I'm still getting a feel for how to engage them in household and their own responsibilities. But I am somehow middle man for sibling care and sibling to sibling communication. I'm a middle child in an adult household with shared space and pets.
My partner feels helping with dishes and a meal twice a month is more than they should be doing already and ANY "offers" (them asking what they can do, rather than seeing the endless daily tasks or regular chores or ANY responsibilities, EVEN MAIL SORTING AND TRASH WOULD BE HELPFUL TBH) are much more than should be "asked" of them. !!As their job is mission essential and all else falls well behind until they feel like offering theirself. !! That leaves all responsibilities including younger sibling, pet care, mental load on me. The only recent chore that has been taken on by both other parties had been litterbox because I am 15 weeks pregnant. I was the sole cleaner prior. They also scatter litter which I sweep and vacuum but the even the vacuum is designed where I shouldn't be nearby when it's emptied because it has to be tapped or washed to be cleared.
!!My therapist has mentioned I need to better advocate for myself and the household. But this has been an ongoing issue even prior to marriage and move (I worked full-time, was in school and unhealthy family system, then deceased parent probate, and was by myself completely).
I am still battling all the issues with probate 5 days a week for multiple hours a day. While handling added loads that somehow makeup time and efforts that would be occupied by previous employmentand educational opportunity. I also recently had to take on load of no longer handling (over a year worth of issues at work) but starting to settle wage theft at a previous job. Plus all the hiccups Probate has caused for me personally (no longer having a vehicle because I'm in another state and can't renew registration online as I am not deceased titleholder and all business in probate must be in person or through a release of interest) and ever growing list of duties of being appointed the Representative. My life has yet to let up in any facet.
My big question(s) as I continue to grapple a more egalitarian running of the home life revolve around WHY my partner feels their job over shadows everything else? They won't discuss other than it's mission essential and beyond that I ask: how is everything else NOT mission essential in your life that WE SHARE and I get not response?
My partner has discussed issues with being able to accurately express themselves or becoming overwhelmed so I keep that in mind and try to bring up small adjustments or ideas around the big issues only to have what I thought was digestible be regurgitated or causing unspoken but physically obvious issues.
I understand this is an us problem and I'm working on connecting with my partner for compromise because this is not what we've agreed to but they feel it is plenty egalitarian. My life load is too much. Also, neither of us expect ANYTHING in life to be egalitarian but we were both on the same page (originally) about being as close to egalitarian on as many fronts as possible.
TL;DR: Partner's work is mission essential, all other responsibilities in our life fall on me despite outside and inside pushes for more balance. While I process and continue to revisit issue and underlying issues, what are some things to consider to help me grapple or try to understand my Partner's perspective?

Hi!
Sorry in advance, if this kind of posts are not allowed in this sub.
I know this is not really the best way to build things, but for me it helped to build a fundamential understanding of some things. I didn't really had any prior networking experience and all the guidelines scattered around were really hard to understand or grasp the concept, so I hope this could help if someone if you happen to struggle the same way.
​
Now, how do we expose an application, so we can access it via FQDN, for example from our browser.
My setup consists of only two machines - a master node and a worker node, all tapped to my home network. Here it's worth mentioning, that I've configured the router to always assign the same IP's to them bind by their MAC address.
As you know, BareMetal cluster services can be configured, as LoadBalancer type, but won't really give you an external IP.

However, this is where MetalLB comes in place.

• First, we're going to deploy the speakers:

kubectl apply -f this_file

• Then, assign a range of IP's for a pool of which IP's will be given to services:

​

apiVersion: metallb.io/v1beta1 kind: IPAddressPool metadata: name: first-pool namespace: metallb-system spec: addresses: - 192.168.1.240-192.168.1.250 

In here I've given the pool a total of 10 IP's to assign to my services. The first one I'll create will have an external IP of 192.168.1.240, the second of 192.168.1.241 and so on until the 10th, which will have an external IP of 192.168.1.250

• Lastly, an L2Advertisement:

​

apiVersion: metallb.io/v1beta1 kind: L2Advertisement metadata: name: example namespace: metallb-system 

If you want to stop here and use IP addresses to access your application, then you can just expose it as type LoadBalancer from now on.

Now it's time for an Ingress controller.

My personal choice is NginX. We're going to deploy this file, which will create everything necessary for the controller to work.
It will also create a service called 'ingress-nginx-controller' with type LoadBalancer, which thanks to MetalLB will now have an external IP.

How to tie up everything together.

My choice was a port forwarding rule in my home router: Router_IP -> Ingress IP.
So, whenever I hit my Router IP address, it will forward it to the Nginx Ingress IP via forwarding rule for ports 80 and 8443 (http/https).
In case your home network is locked and you don't have the credentials for the admin panel - you can always contact your ISP and ask them to configure it for you.
Now, all we need is a domain, which will point out to our Router IP. You can either just straight up buy a domain and route it to your router IP or configure a Bind9 DNS. For the sake of this example, I just bought the cheapest one I could find (2-3 eur).

Time to expose our service to the outside world.

It's time we create a simple nginx pod and expose it, as a service (it doesn't need to be LoadBalancer type, just use ClusterIP, so it can be accessible only within the cluster).
Now, using the service - we will create an Ingress resource and will specify our desired hostname, which will lead us to the service, thus the application behind it:

apiVersion: networking.k8s.io/v1 kind: Ingress metadata: name: demo-application namespace: default status: loadBalancer: ingress: - ip:  spec: ingressClassName: nginx rules: - host: demo.liquidmeow.fun http: paths: - path: / pathType: Prefix backend: service: name: demo-nginx-service port: number: 80 

In conclusion, using my domain liquidmeow.fun - I have created a resource, which will point the host demo.liquidmeow.fun to my nginx service and application behind it.

Why do I need a forwarding rule in my router, can't I just direct my domain to the Ingress External IP?

You actually can do this, but this would mean that your ingress is exposed to the outside world:
www.test.com -> Ingress (public) -> Service (private) -> Application
In case you don't want to expose your ingress, the forwarding rule can be set to the ClusterIP of the ingress. Since it's your own network - your router be able to access it, but the outside world could not.
This way, hitting the domain will direct the traffic to your router and everything else that happens inside will be internal:
www.test.com -> Router -> Ingress (private) -> Service (private) -> Application
If you just point out your domain to your ingress ClusterIP - it would not work, since the outside world cannot really access your ClusterIP.
Additionally, this will give you one more level of control - you will not only use your machine IP and Firewall configuration, but your Router's network and firewall configuration as well.

If you've read this far, thank you

That's it. Thanks for reading, I hope you were able to find at least a piece of information valuable.
I know there's a lot of field for improvement, I'm far from an IT or networking specialist, so if anyone has any insight - I'll be really happy to hear you out.
​

PS: I'm aware my IT skills are not the only thing requiring improvement. English is not my native language, so I apologize for my bad grammar and any possible mistakes/typos.

PS2: If there's anything, that's unclear or you're struggling with some concept, I'll be happy to help.

Did my first "extended" drive with FSD Beta v11.3.2.
Vehicle used was a 2022 Model Y Performance, which still has ultrasonic sensors on it.
TL;DR: Feels like the focus was almost entirely on the highway stack, with a number of regressions on the city streets stack. Honestly it feels like the highway stack was stapled into an earlier version of FSD Beta.
Start of trip
The path driven was this. On 10.69.25.2 it's a zero disengagement drive. Not so on v11.3.2.
The first turn take was this one, which over the last few months has been reconfigured to be kind of weird. Not shown here is that when the turn completes is a newly installed, nasty curb, that the car has to avoid hitting. The left turn lane has a weird traffic light as well. It used to just be a regular red/yellow/green light, but they've given it a chance to be a "blinking yellow" when oncoming traffic can go. So you can have a blinking yellow to turn left, and red to go straight. It's weird. On approach it was blinking yellow, and the car said it was stopping for the light, however, as it was blinking I hit the accelerator to traverse it, however, somewhere into the maneuver the light went from blinking yellow to solid yellow, so while I crossed the line on yellow, I completed the turn on red. Honestly I'm debating emailing my city on this one, because it's a weird intersection now.
The next issue I ran into was at this intersection. I was following a vehicle carrying a spool of conduit, and the car was meant to wait at a red light. Street level view, the intersection kind of sucks. The car was in the left through lane, waiting on traffic, however, it thought traffic had stopped, so it jerked the wheel to the left in an attempt to go into the left turn lane to go around traffic. I'm not sure if it tried saw that there was "space" on the train tracks to fill in, or what, but that was the first disengagement. I don't think I've had any prior version of FSD Beta (I joined in October 2021) attempt to do what this one did.
Further up the road are these "newish" blinking yellows for a fire station. They've been there almost two years or something now, the car kept trying to brake for it. This is common for every version of FSD Beta I've had, when traversing these blinky yellows.
The car got into I-4 just fine, did two speed based left lane changes into the far left lane, then two route based lane changes back into the right most lane before taking the exit to highway 570, Polk Parkway. Drove fine on Polk Parkway, no major issues there, until it had to get off of the Polk Parkway.
This exit here is being "reconfigured" to a single lane toll plaza. They're doing this through the use of orange construction barrels. Prior versions stayed to the left (Following the green line), but FSD Beta v11.3.2 tried real hard to go through the construction barrels (Red line), resulting in a need to disengage again. Weirdly though, I was unable to make a voice note at this point, the prompt never showed up, and the legacy autopilot stack kicked in. I was unable to re-engage FSD Beta for a quarter of a mile or so. Was weird.
The next intersection required me to disengage again. This intersection was reconfigured not too long ago to increase the left turn lanes from two to three. In doing so they also repainted one of the lines to be worse than before. Now the center lane marker tries to punt you to a left turn lane, when that's not the intention.. So, while the car should follow the green line in the first image, it now follows the red line, trying to get into the left most through lane, instead of going into the center through lane. Disengagement occurred.
The next disengagement occurred here, where it should have followed green, but started to follow red instead. Historically FSD Beta starts to go right, then realizes it is wrong and self corrects, but in this case it was committing to the error, so I took control.
Smart Summon
This location is where I've had the absolute most reliable smart summons, as such, since I was here again, I figured I would try out smart summon. Good news everyone, engaging Smart Summon while Sentry Mode is engaged appears to be fixed. Previously we used to get errors of "Vision system degraded" until Sentry Mode was turned off. This time I was able to start Smart Summon. Bad news is that a combination of updates to the app, and what I'm assuming is the removal of reliance on map data, have made Smart Summon worse.
I historically always use "Go to Target" when using Smart Summon, as I've found "Come to me" to be a bit sketchy. "Come to me" literally goes to your GPS coordinates, and I prefer to have the car go to a location, and then meet it half way, like whistling for a horse, and jumping on while it passes by.
Previously, you could pull up the app, go to Smart Summon, select "Go to Target" and them move the reticle around, and have it go to the reticle. This shows the old behavior of "Go to Target". This is the newer app behavior. Honestly, in reviewing these it's hard to explain why I prefer the old one to the new one, as they're super close. I want to say that the newer behavior "resets" the reticle when you're in range, or something like that. Anyways, I had issues setting the reticle in the right spot because of the app change. My Smart Summon process at this location is always the same. Refer to this diagram. I typically pull up the app and start connecting to the car while I'm in the building, by the time I exit the building the app is connected to the car, and I'm still over 200ft away. I move the "Go to Target" reticle over the cross walk near the red dot. I then leave the reticle there as I follow the yellow line. When I cross the orange marker in the image, I'm typically within 200ft, and I start to summon the vehicle. Historically the car will follow the green line, however, today it followed the blue line. It's possible this was because of bad "Go to Target placement". Conditions for the Smart Summon test were also 90% optimal. There was next to no traffic in the parking lot, with the exception of a pickup truck approaching from the top of the image. When I saw the truck, I started to move towards my vehicle, to close the distance faster. It's possible my approaching the vehicle is what screwed up the summon. FSD Beta v11.3.2 is crazy sensitive about pedestrians, like holy shit, over protective.
Anyways, Smart Summon did work, but the app changed a while ago, and I haven't used Smart Summon in quite some time because it didn't work while Sentry Mode was engaged, and I don't like the app change they did.
Return trip
The return trip, as you can probably imagine, is remarkably similar to the start of the trip.
The removal of the "Fixed speed limit increase" is annoying. I had mine set to 14%, to get it to go to 80mph on the interstate, however, I've since returned it to about 12mph by the end of this drive.
The speed limit was 50, but the 14% put my at 57mph. Normally I have a fixed offset of 5mph, because in Florida you can go up to 5mph over the limit and get a warning, tickets start at 6mph. At 14% my offset was 57mph, as a result at this spot, where the car should have just followed the green line, it made a speed based lane change into the left lane, while going through the intersection, only to realize it wasn't going to make the turn in time, and frantically try to get into the right most lane, and then into a turn lane. It was quick, and uncomfortable.
The next intersection, which I was most excited about, it failed. Probably about 70% my fault though. The car should follow the green arrow. An argument could be made that this is a stupid intersection, I wouldn't disagree, but this is what the navigation has said to do for years, and everyone does this. The car waited for the lanes to clear, and as traffic built up behind me, I thought I saw the opportunity to go, however, as I hit the accelerator to get it to move, there was one car in the left most through lane that ended up parallel to me, causing the car to fail the maneuver, and miss the exit altogether.
Once back onto the 570, the car then got onto I-4, and off of I-4 to arrive at this intersection. Historically this exit hasn't worked well, however, FSD Beta v10.69.25.2 finally started doing it properly, where the car has to follow the green arrow. FSD Beta v11.3.2 has regressed to it following the red arrow now. This behavior prompts me to believe that v11.3.2 is an earlier version of FSD Beta than 10.69.25.2, but with highway functions.
The next hiccup was a weird one. At this spot here the vehicle tried to make a speed based lane change into the left lane, however, the left lane was occupied with a vehicle in my blind spot. The car still tried to complete the maneuver despite the car being red, and known to the car that the lane was occupado. I disengaged, and then re-engaged a moment later. The car then figured out the left lane change, proceeded to turn left, and about where the red line is on the red arrow, it started trying to stop in the middle of the intersection. The intent line straight up showed that it was just going to stop in the intersection, trying to treat it like a four way stop or something, instead of a straight through, so I took control, got through there, and turned it back on again.
The next intersection, a super simple one, it tried to go into the median, so I took control again.
The next intersection tells me that FSD Beta v11.3.2 seems to have some kind of "Don't reconsider after committing to the turn" logic in it or something. While following the green arrow, the car stopped at the stop line for the red light, it waited its time, and then started to proceed through, for a right on red. At almost the exact same time that the car started to move forward, a car across from me, the purple line, started coming towards me, and I had to hit the brakes at the solid red line to avoid impact. Their car was in motion for about the same time that my car was in motion, and there should've been some kind of logic to say "Whoa, hold up, their light is probably green, so they now have the right of way".
And then I went the rest of the way home.

First: https://redd.it/11e34ce
Previous: https://redd.it/11r6qde
Chapter 7
System Status Report: Server Isolation
Server 3 Offline due to admin user command isolation.
Please contact system administration team to proceed.
Steven Inoue blinked at his tablet screen, whose unique ringtone meant he was on call. He checked the timestamp on the message: 1:24am. He looked at the clock: 1:26am. Back to his phone. Good, he thought, I didn’t miss it. He thought he had slept through the alarm, hard as it is to do. He had heard the noise as if in a far-off room while dreaming; somehow, his subconscious wanted him to know he was needed. He was always on call; that’s why his employers paid him the big bucks. He laughed at that. A Second Module unit. That’s the life. It was an offer so enticing to an information technology 16th year in school that he had actually quickly researched the interviewer to make sure they were for real. He had found way more than he was bargaining for: a Nations of Earth ESS grade 2 government job, responsible for information systems management. It was certainly too good to be true. His parents had won the lottery to make the jump from the surface when he was only 2, and after that stroke of luck, they certainly did not take anything for granted. So he knew to be distrustful of anything that seemed to be too good to be true. And yet, 9 years later, here he was pushing thirty, living a comfortable existence in the Second, and all he had to do was keep the wheels turning for the information systems of the Earth Space Station.
That is, Steve thought, as long as I can keep the system from crashing every day. The problem working with the techies down in the lab is they almost relished creating some new system or hardware that was more than the servers could handle. Partly, it was a true justification of the need for the NE finance wing to dump some more money into producing the latest system upgrades and a new supercomputer system. But mostly, Steve knew, the geek squad loved laughing at the chaos. It fulfilled their self-ascribed ‘mad-scientist-turned-government-stooge’ mythos that they worked so hard to cultivate. The latest culprit, disrupting the system almost a record number of times, was Quinton Hammond. Quiet sometimes, but Steve could see flashes in him that he was like the rest. He relished the opportunity to test the system limits and in turn throw the Third Module server offline for the day. Steve could even like the kid, because he was usually tucked away in his closet of an office and certainly kept his systems clean. Well, Steve thought, I’d have to like anyone first. Steve launched himself out of bed and grabbed his tablet, punching the speed dial number of the Third Module Administrator, waiting to report and clear the authorizations.
“Inoue! It’s 1:30 in the morning!” Deputy Administrator Hernandez grunted into the phone, clearly just woken up. The ESS stuck close to the rotation of Earth to allow its inhabitants to retain their biological circadian rhythms, so while one could clearly see part of the sun based on the station’s position in orbit, and even though the Earth reflected a great deal of light, the shades in the dormitory chambers allowed for nighttime simulation.
“Sorry sir, server 3 is in isolation. We had a system lockdown.”
“Okay, then restart it.” Hernandez hung up with a sharp click.
Steve hustled around his room, grabbing clothing, food, and the gadgets he needed, and headed for the door. As the automatic door whisked behind him, he felt the cool circulating air of the main Second Module atrium, its sleek, sloping surfaces making cool lines up and down the entire pod. The Earth Space Station, or ESS as it was commonly abbreviated, had eight Modules in its right rotational ring. The first six were designated for habitable use. Number Seven housed the main circuitry for power generation and number eight was storage and other life support functions. The left rotational ring was devoted solely to food production, a much larger ring with a slow rotation and a lower gravity environment. Through this process and careful horticulture (the ring was large enough to house a micro-weather system), the ring was able to provide food for all of the ESS inhabitants for years on end, making surface-to-station resupply missions necessary only twice a year for essential materials and physical non-food item resources. Very manageable. The right rotational ring countered the left’s rotation only to the extent it needed so the station could make Earth day-like rotations, making the environment very hospitable to its Earth-descended inhabitants. Then, in the center ball-like hub connecting the two rings, automatically-triggered magnets built into the standard NE uniforms’ shoes allowed people to quickly pass between, though no major station functions could be housed there that required human interaction. Most of the station mainframes were kept here. The whole set up looks like two large wagon wheels out of those old Westerns spinning in opposite directions, Steve thought, linked together by a large, smooth, white ball with giant, gold wings.
Steve turned left from his unit’s door along one of the side exterior walls toward the inner wall. As Steve made his way to the elevator, his gaze wandered upward from his unit on the first level of Second Module, along the curved exterior Plexiglas surface separating the spacious interior from the unforgiving vacuum of space. He could tell the Second Module’s position on the rotational ring was close to the nadir because the long solar paneling was just visible along the upper crest of the module’s window. His eyes tracked the side of the window as it curved down past the tenth, ninth, eighth, seventh floors, each one a level housing ESS denizens, commissaries, work stations, veranda, courtyards. The entire structure was as massive as the skyscrapers his parents showed him pictures of near their home back on Earth in Tokyo. Steve proceeded toward the module lift, which at this hour was deserted departing from his direction. Everyone is coming home from the bar, and here I am, already back at work, he thought, entering the lift and touching the pad for the 5th level, where the PT station was situated. Two parallel lifts sat at the heart of each module, directly across from the PT system. They transported passengers up and down the different levels with a particular module.
As the lift shot upward, he got that nauseated feeling he always got in the ESS internal transportation systems. Between the in-module lifts and the pneumatic tubes between the different modules, everything was operated by air pressure, so in the event of a systemic failure, the emergency crews could pump air remotely to remove any trapped passengers and clear the way for the crews to come through. While a good failsafe, day to day passengers were always jolted by the sudden thrust. The doors whisked open, spilling Steve out onto the fifth floor, and he now had to walk back across the open-faced veranda to the PT stop. Each level’s path was a ring-like walkway perpendicular to the gravitational spin of the ring. With a bit of magnetization of the footwear and the system’s artificial gravity generation, the inhabitants barely noticed the constant battle they fought with physics. The ring-like pathways were hollow in the center, allowing for the modules to remain in an open-air style living-space. Suspended in the middle was a holographic depiction of a giant oak tree, its roots scraping the first level with its utmost leaves touching the top. The sight was magnificent, and very conducive to steadying the human psyche that longed for the sight of green Earth. But, as with everything else on the station, the failsafe mechanism ensured maximum shut down. The rings were fitted with retractable barriers with could shoot out and stave off any sort of combustion. Giant metallic airbags, Steve thought as he continued to marvel at the construction, this place will never get old. As he approached the PT stop, he waved his badge in front of the reader pad, which flashed green and allowed him to enter. He entered the first airlock, and as the doors whisked shut, he followed the track around with his eyes as it wound around the exterior-facing wall of the module right to the module-to-module hatch, like a piece of twine binding eight large bales of white cotton together. Above him, on the sixth level, a similar PT system ran in the opposite direction, toward Second Module.
Steve waited for the shuttle to circulate around, one of eight that dutifully rotated around the pneumatic tubing every two minutes. He regarded the interior side of the module, its ten stories stretching a mile side to side. The sheer size of one module, with all of its living spaces, was simply mind-boggling. Now multiply that by eight for the entire right rotational side, then another for the left, plus the static central traffic ring where ships docked and from which the massive solar cells extended. It’s no wonder that they housed me well to keep this place going, he laughed to himself. If something were to happen, something horribly bad, not only would thousands of lives be lost, but 80 Quadrillion Unified Credits would be lost.
Steve took an aisle seat in the twenty-person cab, felt the air close in as the car re-pressurized, and felt the force on his chest as the car took off toward the Third. The force pushing him back shot the bullet-like cab around the curved pneumatic tubing, and he could see the valve approaching as the Second Module disappeared behind him. The alternating valves allowed constant pressure and acceleration while maintaining separate tube environments, easing the clockwork-like precision with which the PT system operated. Steve passed through and saw a very similar sight appear before him, Third Module. Remarkably close in appearance to the Second, Third Module housed the main workforce of the Nations of Earth administration, along with the Fourth Module, which generally kept the security personnel – a full military installation right here on the station. Fifth and Sixth Modules were more for the working class and the lottery winners. New emigrants to the ESS. First Module contained the leadership quarters and high-class meeting spaces; Second Module was for the business classes, domiciles staked out early in the ESS construction for those with investments and with holdings back down on Earth. Not that anyone would want to go back down there. The main difference between the appearances of the different modules was that each had its own holographic suspension: the giant trees rotating in the Second contrasted sharply with the grandiose capital buildings projected in the First, the sweeping landscapes of the Third and Fourth, and the farms, vineyards, and rustic slideshows of the Fifth and Sixth. Sometimes, when work was at a lull, Steve would take a longer lunch and ride the PT around and around, taking in the sights. And he wasn’t the only one; he noticed several other regular riders taking his scenic tour.
As the car traced its way around the curved exterior wall of Third Module to pick up a lonely night-shift laborer, Steve sat in his thoughts, turning over page after page of ESS schematics in his mind and relating them to his knowledge of the station’s computing system. If the entire Third Module server was isolated by a user command, that meant one of two things: a workstation within the server manually removed the server from communicating with the rest of the station’s computing, or the main hub’s security firewall noticed an anomaly and a security officer cut it off. If it is the former, he thought, he’d have to identify the workstation and see what the source of the isolation was. If the latter, he would have a much easier job of bringing everything up and running from the main hub after conversing with the Hub staff. Either way, his best bet was to proceed through Third Module’s service entrance. Like spokes on a wheel, each module could access the central hub, from where command and control functions of the station emanated.
Steve hopped up and moved to the door as the capsule slowed in its approach to the Third Module station. His eyes had to rapidly adjust as the continued slowing brought the Third’s great Canadian Pacific forest projection into closer focus. Steve looked down at his tablet to check the time: 1:35am. He opened and re-read the message: Server 3 Offline due to admin user command isolation. So, the first stop is to the Third Module’s server station to check, and if that turns up negative, then onto the main hub. The cab came to a halt and the doors whisked open, allowing Steve to pass into the Third Module’s fifth level atrium. As he proceeded across the atrium’s walkway toward the inner wall, skirting the slowly rotating image of the wooded landscape, his attentions were inwardly focused. He was contemplating the previous day, when Quin crashed the server over and over again. It was likely that he had something to do with the system lockout. He knew Quin lived somewhere here; he had half a mind to get him out of bed and make him fix it. But, he knew, that was premature move. He had to get to the Third’s computing center and check on the workstations.
He cleared the outer wall walkway and came around the long stretch of inner wall commissaries and other shops. He passed the module cantina, appropriately named “Third Module from the Sun,” and doubled back into the establishment to grab a cup of coffee to go. Some patrons were finishing up their nights, and the bar had clearly emptied an hour or so before. He stepped up to the young woman alone behind the bar and ordered. She quickly whipped up the station version of the caffeinated beverage. With fuel in hand, he finished the walk to the center of the fifth level and turned the corner to face an “Authorized Personnel Only” door. Swiping his badge, he was granted entry with a low beep and was swept into the long hallway where Third Module functions were housed. He passed the electrical, hydro, and waste management capsules before arriving at the computing offices. With a push, he entered, walked over to the command workstation, set his coffee and other stuff down, plopped down into the chair, cracked his knuckles, and set himself to typing.
Chapter 8
syslogUser:QuintonHammond 1:49am Someone has removed the isolation and is exploring the server logs. It is protocol to submit all user logs to the sysadmin when accessed after the server isolation. I should make the sysadmin aware.
C:/rootmenu/usermail/User:QuintonHammond/newmail/ C:/rootmenu/syslog/download/ C:/rootmenu/usermail/User:QuintonHammond/newmail/attachment/ C:/rootmenu/usermail/User:QuintonHammond/sendmail/
Steve was reading the admin logs when his messages pinged with a new attachment, from Quinton Hammond. “Figures,” he sighed aloud, opening the mail. He tapped the attachment and pulled up the document which appeared to be a user log starting at just after midnight. He started scanning, his eyes widening as he got a few lines in. By the time he had read to ten minutes past midnight, his mouth was agape and he realized he had not blinked in a long time, his hands darting to his eyes to rub away the dryness. He launched himself at his tablet and began furiously typing, sending first a message to Quin, then to the other station administrators, and finally, to station government liaisons.

I love building things but my degree in is computer sciences. I have built furniture before small things for wife and I. I can drive and pull trailers quite well. I can rebuild computers almost from the ground up. NOT THE BEST WITH MATH.
What should i be doing? I don’t like sitting at a desk but I don’t want to come home completely dirty every day, I can do that building our ranch over time. We are starting from the ground up it take a long time.
I’m not talking a beef ranch. I’m talking a small hobby farm as most would call it but it’s not a farm we aren’t growing hay or other crops but starting to raise some small animals.
I run a small business working on computers and other technology while also offering to tow trailers. My CDL is not for drying semi truck but for at most a tri axel or even a small combination truck and trailer.
My computer and tech skill are constantly growing at is tech it self. I love wood working but don’t have a good shop to work in at all. Not talking house carpentry but just wood working in general. Would try metal work but haven’t wanted to afford a welder and all the stuff to go with it.

• Author's Note: Do not ask where this came from... it just did. My writing goblin had been nagging me to put this in writing since last night, so honestly it might have mistakes in it, the pacing and premise might be weird... but it helped my brain settle. Anyways, enjoy and please NOTE, this was written just for the sake of fun (well... it sounded funny to me)!

William Falis, born somewhere around the late 1300s or early 1400s by Earth's time, somewhere in Europe, first born son of a low ranking noble, one of many to come and go along human history. His story lost to time and unknown by his own people.
His life has been most usual from birth up until his mid twenties. The boy, like many others, had grown with knights being a main leading force in his country's lands and many around it. Looking up to the profession with a romanticized view, the young man grew upholding the views of knights of story, even being closer to something akin to a paladin in virtues. Like any person he had his moments of weakness and his vices, but his love for the meaning of the word 'knight' and the power behind what it meant to be one, always held him closer to a righteous path, more than many others.
His unique story begins when William was about the late age of 25, already having lived half of his life. While on his way back home after participating in a siege while on the attacking side, his attention was drawn to some bright blue lights off into the distant horizon, shining from the thick depths of a near by forest.
As he was on horse back, William stopped his mount's speedy galop as he gazed confused upon the bizzare lights. "Oh, what a light of azure shines through to mine eyes from the depths of the forest. Godly and angelic, tis a sign from God Himself, surely. He must be calling for me to meet him, why else would I be graced by this miracle?"
He took a moment to find a place to loosely tie his horse to and give its head a few gentle pets. "Do not worry, Stevellion. I shall return back to you, but should danger find you, hearken onto my plea and run akin to the wind. The wood is too thick with brush and root for you to safely traverse it. I shall return, post haste, mine steed."
Dressed in a light cloth garb with some padded leather armor on top, the knight grabbed his satchel, spear, sword at the hip and shield, from the horse and he set course into the wood. With decided steps he advanced, ready to meet his God and hear Him and His orders to him.
Meanwhile, at the source of the light deep into the woods laid a metal vessel of decent size, half buried into the earth. Tossed about and broken trees confirm a crash landing. Inside the space craft of a spherical shape, Azail and Gab'el, were just coming back to conciousness. They were nearly 7 feet tall and with a light blue complexion upon their wirey frames, the impact had shook them to their cores, bruises formed on their gentle features.
Azail, pushed back silvery white strands of hair as her golden eyes blinked slowly while she got her bearings. "Oh fuck... everything hurts. Agh-... Gab'el? You alive?" She groaned as she lifted her head up from their ship's console, looking to her co-pilot who was splaied on the floor.
"Y-yeah... agh... although I wish I wasn't..." Gab'el said as he shakily pushed up on his elbows, his four digits on each of his hands, feeling his face for damage.
"W-what happened? My head-... oof..." Azail said as she put a palm to her left temple, pulling away, dark blue blood was staining it.
"We got intercepted b-by a Daemar fighting vessel while getting out of Planet-347H's atmosphere. Evasive manuevers failed and we had to make a crash landing." Gab'el continued as he struggled to his feet making his way back to the console.
"Fucking hell... ugh... check with the xenobiologists over comms and see if they are alive in the back. I will send off an Emergency Signal and a message to the outpost we have on Planet-M4/R5. W-we... we gotta be quick and pray the signal reaches them or anyone really that can come quick."
Gab'el nodded as he got to it, trying the communicator he had a shared frequency eith everyone on board. "Luken, Ashi'in. Report on your state if you can hear this message. This is Gab'el. Over."
Azail got to work as well, setting their emergency beacon online and starting to record a message. "This is pilot Azail from the Anghelon Empire, pilot for the scientific vessel, designation 'Enlightenment', the xenobiology branch. We have crash landed on Planet-347H, situated within the 7th space sector. Crash landing was caused by a surprise attack made by a Daemar combat vessel. Send reinforcements and a medical unit asap. We are not clear of danger."
As Azail finished the message she could hear Gab'el swear angrily as he went to the locker storing their only Redemption Fighting Suit, which was only for emergency cases, which it seems, this was one of those.
"Gab, t-talk to me. What happened?" Azail mumbled loudly to her co-pilot as she inched her way towards him holding onto the wall of their decently sized cockpit.
"I got a hold of Lukin! Shit! It's stuck, fuck! He said, Daemars got their hands on Ashi'in, the back left side is busted open and they grabbed her as she was near the opening. I'm trying to get the suit out, but the damn door is busted." He growled man.
"We are wasting time. I'll grab the first aid kit, check your kinetic energy handarm for damage and we've got to mobilize." Azail said as she unholstered from her hip her weapon, gave it a quick look over and then went to grab the medical kit they had in storage under the console.
"Sigh, wish they let us issue our standard Rail Rifle for this mission, SPECIFICALLY because of shit like this. These dinky things won't do shit against Daemar armor." Gab'el said as he checked his gun while opening the doors leading from the cockpit to the small hallway with doors leading to their storage closet, small accomodations and the lab at the back.
The duo advanced carefully towards the lab doors that were already partially slid open, seemingly busted from the reck. Passing through them they had found Lukin hiding behind one of their research tables, which were standard issued as bolted to the floor. The scientist's left golden eye was busted swirling with his own blue blood .
"Hah! Azail, G-Gab'el. There's four of them, h-heard them talking about coming in for a sweep." The scientist, Luken, whispered with groans of pain. "They beat up my assistant, p-please do something!" He said desperate.
"Did you see what weapons they are using? Anything higher cal-" Gab'el began questioning, but a shot from a Rail Rifle ripping a hole in a different table answered his unfinished inquiry. "Ffffuck! If we live, I will kill our whole logistic department, the greedy fucks. They give us an old first gen RF Suit and they think its enough. Pieces of shit." He swore with fury, whispering exasperated as he went into proper cover besides the scientist.
Azail crouched near them as she peeked over cover and out the hole in the side of their ship. Four Daemar, indeed, all equipped with impact body suits that harden when struck by high velocity projectiles. "Ghah... at best our pistols are distractions."
Daemars were shorter in stature than Anghelons, mainly due to their long legs being double jointed with a joint bending back while the second one bent forward, their legs had thicker toes near akin to hooves and their backs were hunched heavily. When fully sprawled out they might actually beat Anghelons in length, which wasn't encouraging as they also seemed brawnier physically than them.
"Come on fellas, you have until the count of three or we blast this bluey's brains onto this forsaken shit planet's mud." One of the Daemars yelled out.
"Agh- fuck you, you red piece of crap!" Ashi'in yelled out which got her a kick in the jaw in return.
"Feisty fucking thing." Chuckled another who administired the blow.
At about this time, William had gotten closer and closer to the flashing blue light, hearing sounds of voices he couldn't understand he became wary of danger. Sneaking up through the brush he found his eyes gazing upon a scene he had a hard time understanding.
After his mind took a moment to process what his eyes saw, he arrived to one certain conclusion. "God hath called upon me to assist one of his angels upon which demons had been set. Oh what woe for such a divine being to have been befallen by!" he whispered angrily to himself.
'How dare they!' He thought with a wordless gasp as he witnessed one of the demons kick the angel in the head.
Insulted by the uncalled for strike upon the already subjugated angel, William stood, an iron grip on his spear. Holding his spear for a throw, Michael rushed out of the brush in a charge. "HOW DARE YE, VILE FIENDS! GET OFF THAT ANGEL! RHA!" He roared tossing the spear at the closest demon his eyes landed on.
Daemar's hearing the shouting turned confused seeing a human charge at them. "IS THAT A FUCKING NATIV- AGH!" The Daemar closest to William said exploding into a shriek of pain as the spear he tossed impaled his torso. "AGH! HAAAH! HA! HOW?! W-WHAT?!" It shrieked out as he grasped the spear's shaft that was stuck in him.
The reds in shock reacted really slowly, since the knight had enough time to continue his charge. He shield bashed with the edge of his shield the one who already got struck by the spear, retrieved his weapon and then shoved his spear once more into the unlucky one's throat.
"Shoot it!" Said a higher ranking Daemar as his two goons began pointing a rail rifle and a kinetic pistol at the leather armored knight.
Before they could fill the primitive native of the muddy planet with holes, the trio of Daemars got covered in a small volley of pistol fire from inside the ship.
William peered from where the flashes of light came and he could see more angels. He tossed his shield aside and using his free arm he lifted up Ashi'in onto his shoulder, which he seemed to do so with ease. "Pray forgive me your Divinity, but I must assist hastly!" He yelled as he bolted inside, slipped on the slanted metal floor and slid on his ass all the way to the back.
Gab'el, Luken and Azail looked wide eyed at William who's eyes sparkled with awe.
"Doc, can it understand us?" Gab'el asked as he took cover back behind the desk.
"W-we've been studying them for quite a bit and no, they shouldn't... I don't understand why it came to our assistance, its kind hates one anothers i-if they wear slightly different clothes! This is insane!"
Azail groaned impatient as she kept overwatch towards the opening into the ship. "Less talking, untie Ashi'in, you morons! You can gawk at the dirt mammal after we're done with this. Gab'el shoot it if it tries to do anything stupid."
"Uhh... Az, I think it's getting up to go out there." The co-pilot said uncertain as he undid the zip tie like bindings from Ashi'in's wrists behind her back.
William had indeed set Ashi'in down, who looked in a confused awe at him as he brushed some of her longer silvery locks from her face. "By God. You are a true beauty, truly God's children." William said gazing towards the others as he grasped his spear tighter.
He stood up confidently and began scaling the slanted floor towards the opening.
"Fucking hell, its going to kill itself." Gab'el said as he face palmed.
"M-maybe not. Despite his primite weapons he seemed like he could fight them. His species is rather sturdy and surprising. He might be able t-" before Lukin could finish his words, the group witnessed the primitive mammal go up to the opening, was about to chuck his spear which got a yelp from one of the Daemars and then promptly got shot, based on the less scary sound, by the kinetic pistol.
William groaned, fell on his back while dropping his weapon, and like a pendulum, slid downwards once more at the back of the laboratory next to his 'angels'.
"Oh God! M-my heart! Ghah!" He said holding onto his chest.
"Oh, for the love of... the dominant species on this planet are complete idiots." Gab'el said as as he went besides Azail, at this point not caring about the fate of their unlikely helper.
"God, could you be more heartless." Ashi'in said annoyed as she grabbed one of the arms of William. "Doc, help me pull him towards the back, quick, he's losing blood. Lets give the soldiers space and go to safety."
"R-right." Lukin said as he got a grip on William, and the two dragged him towards the cockpit with the first aid kit.
"Why do you think his attack worked?" Gab'el asked his colleague clearly confused by how a primitive's weapon could hurt a Daemar.
"I don't know... the suit is supposed to harden upon high velocity... impact..." that is when Azail's golden eyes glimmered with realization. "His spear is as slow as hell by comparison to our weapons... the armor doesn't register them."
The Anghelan woman then reached and took in her hands William's spear looking at it. "Gab' take this and sneak closer to the opening. If they approach I will shoot to distract, you stab."
"Eh, good of a plan as any other." The co-pilot sighed resignated at the situation before him. He took the primitive weapon and began his sudden suicide mission.
Back inside the cockpit, Lukin and Ashi'in, had dragged their unlikely native ally inside. The lead xeno biologist began looking over the heavily bleeding William, who seemed to be slowly dying. "Damn it, i think the bullet might have ruined the heart." He said as he began grabbing a few tools and bio sealant gel packets, and basically tried to patch the hole in his chest with fast acting cell regeneration medicine. "This should works, the native cells seemed similar in make to our own and in testing it seemed effective."
Ashi'in frowned. 'It'll be too slow.' She thought as her eyes looked quickly about. As her golden gaze laid upon the locker of the RF Suit, eureka struck her. "The suit. It has cell replication properties and an in built life support, it could help." She said as she took William's sword from him and began using it to pry open the busted looking door, struggling to do so.
"The suit?! Are you crazy?! That is the equivalent of giving a nonsentient primate a Rail Rifle after putting its digits on the trigger." Lukin said while keeping on with the first aid.
"Well, that thing saved my life and I don't know about you, but I am not about to let it die. I owe it at least that!" Ashi'in said grunting as she pried open the locker doors just enough for an arm to fit in.
She stretched as best she could and pulled from inside the locker a silvery metal disc about the same size as her palm.
"Ashi'in as the lead researcher I forbid it!" Lukin said standing up with a clear furious expression on his face, which receeded quickly once he saw Ashi'in lift up the sword she wielded in one of her hands.
"You can shove your position up your ass, and if you do, please make sure you can taste it in the back of your throat." She growled as she gave Lukin a shoulder shove.
She kneeled besides William and she looked down upon the pale pink primitive who's brown eyes stared half open at her, his long brown hair spread about the floor, soaked lightly with his own blood. "O-oh... mine beautiful angel... see that mine soul reacheth the gates of Heaven... and please... go release Stevellion of his duties as mine stead... he doesn't deserve to suffer the wait of my never coming... return." He said coughing up a few globs of blood.
Ashi'in listened, but... she couldn't understand a single grunt the damn thing was making. She just nodded her head and took his hand into hers. "Don't worry, it'll be fine... hopefully." She said nervous as she placed the metal disk at the center of his chest and gave it two finger taps.
The silvery metal disk chimed with a gentle sound after a few moments and it began saying. "The suit's pilot is in critical condition, for quicker life support assistance would you like to initiate full suit integration instead of the standard operating system?" The device declared, its monotonous voice echoing in the cockpit.
"Yes! Initatite full integration, focus on life support before booting any other systems." Ashi'in yelped impatient.
The metal disk chimed in an affirmative sound as it then shifted across the knight's chest, right over the wound. It sealed the hole with its own surface and then it started buzzing.
As William felt himself fade a spike of pain shot from his chest, more specifically his heart. It was as if something was shredding his heart apart and then it came in stabbing his inner flesh with many hot needles, it burned and stung like nothing else he ever felt. He yelled as his body convulsed and after about two minutes of this constant torture, the pain dulled and subsided.
"Biological analysis complete. Repaclement of damaged vital organs complete. Suit systems connected neurologically to host. All basic boot up functions complete." The suit stated once more monotonously.
Ashi'in sighed with relief as she sat down onto the floor. "Phew... I am so glad that worked." She said with a shakey voice and a small smile on her lips.
Lukin groaned annoyed as he looked at the suit's core now physically implanted into the native's left side of his chest. The damned thing tore through his bio clothing and just dug itself into him. Looking more closely now, the bit of it that was still exposed... it morphed... into a shape akin to the metal shield that the primitive was carrying.
William feeling himself breath fully and feeling life course through his veins proper, he looked at his chest and noticed the hole in his leather armor and the shirt below it. His eyes sparkled with a hope renewed as she looked at Ash'in. The young man scrambled onto his knees and palms and bowed his head with the forehead against the floor. "Oh! Most gentle and generous angel, thank you for your blessing, thank you for gracing me with the Lord's love and keeping me in your favor. I shall devote myself to assisting you and the Father in purging those demons."
"Oh, what the hell is it doin' now?" Ashi'in asked as she chuckled nervously, doubting her choice at this point. Her eyes wandered towards Lukin for an answer.
The lead xeno scientist stared into empty air after seeing William's display and he seemed to search for an answer in his mind's library. "I... don't... I know this has something to do with religious behaviors and rituals, but... why would it..." Lukin stuttered flustered.
William stood to his feet with a determined look upon his fair features. "God! I carry thine will as you command me, grant me thine protection and strength to end the plague that are those demons!"
"A.I. Assistant designation, God. Activating defensive protocols, enabling full access to in built nano machine weaponry." The suit's voice declared in a lpw tone monotonous voice.
"Did he just... name the suit's A.I. ... as God?! I understood what the suit said, but really, God?" Ashi'in asked confused as she stood up.
Lukin face palmed himself as he finally realized. "The unevolved idiot is mistaking us for divine creatures, oh hell... there's like fuck knows how many religions that I documented here, which one is he even part of?!" The lead scientist said stepping back.
The silver disk on William's chest began spreading over his body like mercury, enveloping him entirely. As it began taking shape, initially in the standard form of the suit, it then began changing. It morphed into a full suit of armor that looked like the full plated armor the xeno biologists have seen the natives of this planet make and wear in one region of the planet.
Despite the look akin to various metal plates strapped together, it was simply just the design choice of the user for the suit's exterior. The living metal even moved to make filigree patterns across various "edges" of the armor and in the middle of William's chest the designs merged to form a cross. His head piece took the shape of a Great Helm style helmet with a cross pattern in the middle, the eye holes being actual visors that shined a blue hue.
"Damn, these people are really into religion h-huh..." Ashi'in said as her eyes widened at how much the suit had changed from the standard look. This feature was usually used for one to lightly personalize their suit's design, but it was now unrecognisable.
"God, hear my plea! Grant me a blade to cut through mine enemies with thunderous force! Let me smite them, lightning quick!" William shouted as he reached a hand forward and from his palm, bits of his suit formed into a hilt, which grew a pummel and hand guard eventually shooting a straight edge blade that pulsed with electricity.
As Lukin observed he began tapping away at a little data pad. "I don't think the suit understands his vocal commands, but... full integration merges the suit with one's nervous system... it might actually be able to reproduce these details and follow his commands based on his brain's electric patterns which form his thoughts. Oh ho ho... this might be quite interesting. Such a basic intelligent life form operating intricate technological machinery. This'll-... agh!"
Lukin groaned as Ashi'in elbowed him in the side. "I understand this is our work, but can you not?" the assistant groaned annoyed shaking her head as she then gazed back at William. "Lets hope it'll put it to good use."
The knight stared at his new blade and down at himself as he tightened his free hand and began making his way out of the cockpit and back towards the laboratory he gor dragged from. "By the grace of God..." He uttered zelously under his breath as he pressed onwards, his voice ringing out with a metalic tone to it and echoing.