#(either the timing chain or the transmission is going and both of those on my car are a total engine rebuild)

[gilfrespecter]

I documented 700 important-to-me tiktoks before the ban. Which started an hour and a half earlier than it was supposed to. But I did it

[warsamongthestars]

WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT THE UMBARA ARC

Things I have come across, considered, or theorized, regarding Clone Wars the Umbara Arc.

# REGARDING THE 501ST / TORRENT COMPANY - FIVES Dude is the sanest man here. Yes, that includes Rex. Fives is literally the Everyman, the Good Man that goes to war. Everything about Fives is how a Sane but Confident and Good Person is suppose to do and how they would reasonably act, given all they’ve experienced.

And Gods is he brutal. He swipe-kicked an Umbaran, and blasted the fucker point blank.

He talked back to Krell on several occasions, first one resulted in a Lightsaber within Shaving Distance. He went behind the backs of the chain of command, but still respected Rex enough to tell him what he was going to do (and Rex even covered him).

And even in the face of Execution, he’s the Optimist to Jesse’s Cynic. In a final ditch effort, he pulls a speech for all his brothers. He sees people as what they are: Persons, each and everyone. And from the Start, knew Krell was a fuckin Bastard.

Fives is Smart too. Dude learned how to Fly an Umbaran ship, and Umbaran Tech is as alien as it gets (s’like trying to translate a Star Trek consol).

- JESSE Seems to be a Republic Fan considering he literally tattooed the Republic’s Symbol on his face and painted it on his helmet.

Dude is Snarky and Sassy. A dangerous combination. He makes snarky quips, is cynical in the face of execution, and even does the sassy hand on hip thing.

He’s also, apparently, either part Technician or part Hacker. Capable of cracking Umbaran Codes, if Fives’ good natured shoulder punch was any indication.

- KIX The Medic, and gods it could not have been easy to deal with all those causalities.

- HARDCASE Love Hardcase. Dude’s got explosions and fighting on the mind, his answer to a problem with guns is to bring a bigger gun. He’s got a one track mind, and Fives had to reign him in several times.

He’s definitely friendly enough, and takes things as they come, which suggested he had simple expectations and simple desires.

... Gonna miss him.

- TUP For all the “Tup was Innocent” I kept hearing, Tup is pretty much an Anxious New Guy. While being anxious about Krell is the reasonable reaction, if not the understatement, Tup brings anxiety to a new level.

He holds on to dear life while in transport with both hands, he’s fairly hopeless in most situations (brings to mind “We’re DOOMED!”  by C3-P0) [And let’s face it, Tup has good reason to be hopeless about stuff].

Fairly cynical, but in the way that new folk are cynical to the possibility of new outcomes. Kamino must’ve been hard on the kid.

- DOGMA ... I have reason to believe that Dogma’s chip was partially activated.

What starts to be just a young soldier following things to the letter, dives into a route of insanity that cannot be explained away. At least, by my perceptions. (Believe what you want, this is my article of stupidity, go get your own stupid if you don’t like it)

Sure, supporting Krell’s plans in the beginning just indicated that he was being idiotically naive. Sure, a fear of getting into trouble can drive someone to jump the chain if they feel something has gone wrong. He even got Tup in on it. This suggests youth, anxiety, and the unfortunate idea that he would have to learn things the hard way-- we’ve been there.

But Dogma was There when the Clone Transmission came in regarding Umbarans taking Clone Equipment. He was There when the 501st and the 212th attacked each other.

And yet, Dogma takes up a blaster against his own brothers, AFTER THAT ATTACK (FOR WHICH HE WAS PRESENT FOR THE BRIEFING OF AND FOR THE EVEN ITSELF), and screams that they’re all Traitors?

Its not like Dogma isn’t reasonably Smart. After a certain point, this stops being Anxiety and Desperation talking, and starts being something else.

It puts all other actions under a new light. Such as his rather robotic actions when he was first introduced-- they were on a battlefield, why the hell is he showing off a crisp and serious about-face / heel-turn like he’s in a fuckin Uniform Inspection?

And how he shoots Krell. Yes, it does look like a snapping point and you wouldn’t be wrong to take it as such. But by that point, he was using “Traitor” an awful lot.

... It makes sense to theorize that Dogma and Tup were apart of the same Batch. It seems that their entire Batch must’ve had Bad Chips. Wonder if that tumor killed the others...

- REX Man has the patience of a saint, but you’d have to when working with Skywalker.

I can’t blame him for the orders he received from Krell. Rex was in the worst position during the worst circumstances. If he defied orders too much, he ran the risk of court-martial or worse, and then his company and legion would be left to the mercies of Krell. If he tried to lessen the blow, he still would get chewed out by his company for following Krell.

He tried to justify it. Who wouldn’t when you’re between a rock and a hard place? When you know what’s around you is Wrong, but if you don’t do what you’re told, it could get worse. Of course you’d justify it. You’d do to stay sane.

He was the Honorable Man in the worst position.

- PROTOTYPE The thing about Season 7, is that it takes place years after Clone Wars was cancelled. Plenty of time to go back and sift through the old seasons, in order to build new ones when The Clone Wars was brought back to air.

And plenty of stuff in the Umbara Arc shows me that, y’know, Torrent Company was proto-Bad Batch.

You have Hardcase, who was basically Wrecker.

Jesse, who screamed Crosshair with that sass and snark. No wonder they didn’t like each other, they were quite a bit alike.

Rex, playing Hunter in both exhaustion, diplomacy, and nobody every being happy with anything he did.

Not sure who played the Tech here. Seems to have been divided between Fives, Jesse and Hardcase. Possibly Kix.

# KRELL

Let me just get my feelings out of the way.

We fuckin hate this asshole. Ever second he was alive on screen, I desperately wanted him dead. Dealing with him second hand is one of the worst experiences I’ve had with Clone Wars-- and I’m pretty sure he was written that way on purpose. I despise him. Wish he got shot sooner. The death tolls, the disregard, we saw how many new ways a Clone could die and ITS THIS BASTARD’S FAULT.

*ahem*

But that’s not why I’m here.

Krell’s speeches tells us that what he did, he’s be doing for a long time. Umbara took place in the Second Year of the Clone Wars... And this suggests that he may have Started a bastard.

He certainly was Dark Side by the time of Umbara.

Hints of his later speech also suggest that he had, in some way, contact with Darth Tyrannus, or possibly even Sidious himself acting as Tyrannus. Which puts things into a new light.

... I think that Umbara was meant to kill off Torrent Company.

Here’s my logic.

After Umbara, just about everything that goes wrong for Anakain, does. Kenobi betrays Anakin’s trust. Ahsoka is lost repeatedly, and thanks to the trial arc, gets gone for “seemingly” good. Everything was directed through the Jedi Council, and often, via the Chancellor’s hidden hand, was in some way isolating to Anakin Skywalker.

And it starts Here.

Who the fuck requests a General about to head into battle? What could be so fuckin important as to interrupt TAKING A SEPARATIST’S WORLD!?

Nothing. You don’t do that. There was nothing more important at that moment. You can’t claim incidental, because Anakin was never pulled off that way before or since. Take Anaxes as your Example-- his wife was Pregnant, and he was still fighting.

I think, via Krell, someone who is KNOWN to have massive clone casualties, who had possibly started off this civil war having already Fallen, that the Chancellor had started to find ways to Isolate Anakin. To ensure that Anakin’s trust would only be the Chancellor’s.

And he started by trying to ensure the deaths of Captain Rex and the rest of Torrent Company.

... Of course, unlike every other time. It takes a Chip to bring Clones to heel.

Because on their own? Clones don’t fall for the Machinations of Evil Emperors. They don’t get their strings pulled, like Jedi do. It takes a tumor-slave-chip to bring these great men to heel.

So Captain Rex survives. And becomes the worst thorn Palpatine has ever felt, for it.

[finleyfray]

Damnation

TW: dying, language

Finley sighs as she crashes down on her bed. It was late in the afternoon and she had a half hour break before she needed to go to work. She is tired after the whole day of classes. Lately she was so busy she didn’t even see her girlfriends for two weeks. Fin was living alone, so she had to work hard to be able to pay for her rent and food. Besides this, she was also in her last year at university. 

Those two activities took all of her time and while she tried so hard to make it work, she knew Alex and Maggie were very irritated with her lack of time to meet them and do something together. She promised them she’s gonna have a day off soon, but this was a month ago, and Finley really couldn’t afford a day off. Her rent price went higher last month and now she has to work extra hours to be able to pay for it.

Finley hides her head in her hands. She really misses her girlfriends. It’s only been 10 months that they’re dating, and they haven't even told each other “I love you" yet, but Fin realised that a while back. She loves them and she really wants to spend the rest of her life with them. 

Her phone rings and Finley picks it up. 

“Hey" Fin smiles as she hears Alex’s voice. “Can we come over for a second? We want to tell you something.” She frowns at Alex’s cold voice.

“Hi babe. I would love to but I have to go to work in half an hour.”

“That’s nothing new. Okay, we tried to talk with you, to maybe try and find another way. But I'm done with constant excuses. I’m putting you on speaker."

“What’s wrong?” Finley’s heart beats fast as she tries to suppress anxiety inside her. This doesn’t sound like the Alex she knows. 

“We talked a lot.” She hears Maggie's voice. “And we are really tired. You never have time for us, and it looks like there’s only me and Alex. So we might as well just be like that.”

“What do you mean?” Fin asks with a trembling voice. 

“We are breaking up with you.” 

“What?” She gasps. 

“Yeah. Sorry. We can’t go on like that. You never have time.”

“No, wait, don’t do that, I’ll make time, just give me one more chance, please...” Finley panickes. This can't be happening. After everything, they just decide she wasn't worth it… The woman feels anger inside her. Mixed with pain and sadness, but mostly anger. She hangs up and throws her phone against the wall. Her phone crashes and lands on the floor. Screw that. 

The black-haired woman stands up and goes to the elevator. She still needs to pay for her bills even when she was just dumped. She pushes the button to go down, but she never arrives at work. 

***

Finley opens her eyes and looks around her. She was in a dark room with chains around her wrists and ankles. Last thing she remembers was going into the elevator and then she felt a sharp pain in her head and she was out cold.

The blue-eyed woman has no idea why she was kidnapped. She wasn't any special, she was just working in a restaurant and in the shop and she went to the school. Work… she didn't arrive. Pretty sure they'll just fire her. 

She hears footsteps and tries to locate the people that were approaching. Even in this weird situation, Finley wasn't scared. Safe to say, she didn't even care.

"Good to see you awake. My goons might've hit your head a bit too much." She watches as the older woman enters the room, together with two men. 

"And who are you exactly? And why am I even here?" Fin looks at her confused.

"Lillian Luthor, and you're here to give me kryptonite." The woman spoke and Finley laughed. 

"Give you what? I don't even know what that is, I'm just a student, can't give you anything." 

"You can't, but your girlfriend can. See, I watched you for a while, and looks like you're the one I had to get to make Agent Danvers give me kryptonite from DEO. So now I'll call them, tell them we can exchange, they bring me kryptonite, you walk free." The woman circled her with a phone in her hand.

"Which girlfriend, what do you mean DEO? Also I hate to break it to you but that won't work. They broke up with me, I don't mean anything to them and I'm pretty sure they won't trade anything for me." The black-haired woman huffs and Lillian smiles. She taps on her phone and Finley screams with pain as electricity rushes through her.

***

Alex sighs as she looks at Maggie. She tries her best to not give away her sadness. Her girlfriend looks at her and gently cups her cheek. 

"Talk to me." 

"We shouldn't have. I don't want to lose her. This was a stupid idea. We got so mad when she said she doesn't have time… We shouldn't break up with her. We have to try and fix it." The redhead looks at the floor, her eyes wet and Maggie sighs. 

"You're right. Come on, she should be home already. We try once more, but Alex, if it doesn't work… I'm tired of having a girlfriend I don't actually have." 

"I know Maggs, but… I love her… Yea, it was hard the last few months… And we didn't even go that far in this relationship. But can you remember the time before it went to shit? Her smile that lights up the whole room? The way she checks on you after she knows you had a rough day at NCPD? The way she always knows what to say to make us laugh and feel better? The way she looks at us like we're the most important people in her life? How she says she's proud of us for doing all we can to protect this city. Even though she doesn't know I work for the DEO but thinks I work for the FBI. Maggie, I'm not ready to give her up and I know you aren't either."

"You're right." The raven-haired woman whispers and gently wipes away her girlfriend's tears at the same time blinking her eyes to get rid of her own tears. "We have to figure it out. We can't lose her. While we were a couple, don't get me wrong, I love you, but there was always something missing. And when we met Finley… It felt whole again. We stopped arguing that much. She's like a glue that holds us together. We have a lot to work on but I really think we have to try." 

"Let's get our girl back." 

They both rushed to Finley's apartament and knocked. 

"Finley, please open the door, we want to talk." Alex knocks on the door but she's met with silence. They wait a bit and knock a few more times but there's no response. 

"Use the spare key?" Maggie proposes and the redhead nods, taking out the key Fin gave them a while ago in case something happens. The agent opens the door and calls out. They go to the small room and look around.

"Finley's not here." Alex sighs and watches as Maggie goes to the wall and picks up a broken phone. "I think she was angry. Maybe she's still at work?"

They check the work but the manager tells them Finley never arrived to work. After hearing that, they begin to panic. It was not like her to miss her work. Alex takes them to the DEO and they ask Winn to look for any monitors around her living and work place. It doesn't help that Finley lives in one of the worst places in the whole city, they don't have any monitoring system. Alex calls her sister and Kara arrives in a minute. They're about to send her to patrol when Winn yells.

"We have an incoming transmission. Agent Danvers, you want me to put it through?"

"Yes. Put it through and track it immediately."

"...up with me, I don't mean anything to them and I'm pretty sure they won't trade anything for me." Alex gasps as she hears Finley's voice. Maggie goes to her and she clenches her fist.

"Luthor." She growls. She watches as Lillian pushes a button on her phone and their girlfriend screams in pain. "Let her go!"

"Looks like the transmission is one sided. They can't hear us. We can only see them." 

 --

Finley gasps as she finally breathes. Every muscle in her body hurts. 

"Fucking hell! I told you they won't give you anything, you stupid bitch!" 

"Oh my dear, of course they will." Fin tried to look at the woman but another rush of pain went through her. "They will give me the Kryptonite once they realise they can't track us." 

"Just fucking shoot me already! I told you, they don't care, just get it over with." 

"I can shoot her ma'am." She heard one of the men saying enthusiastically. 

"Stand down Barnes, this is not the plan." Lillian said and Fin smiled, she forced herself to look up at the man.

"Yea, stand down. Good dog. Bet you don't even know how to fucking shoot, don't ya Barnes? Woof woof." Finley laughs trying to make the man angry. He doesn't look too smart, if he loses control, he'll shoot her. "Good obedient fucking dog." 

"Barnes no!" Lillian tries to stop him but it's too late, he fires 3 times and Finley stops moving.

--

"Fucking hell! I told you they won't give you anything, you stupid bitch!" 

Alex curses and looks at the screen. 

"What the hell is she doing!? She should stay quiet, not enrage Lillian more!?" Her girlfriend screams.

"Oh my dear, of course they will." The redhead winces as she hears their girlfriends screams. "They will give me the Kryptonite once they realise they can't track us." 

The agent looks at Winn but he sadly shakes his head. 

"I have nothing yet." He gets back to typing on his computer. 

"Just fucking shoot me already! I told you, they don't care, just get it over with." 

"No, no, Finley, no! Please, no, we do care, don't provoke them." Maggie sobs as she grabs the desk tightly.

"I can shoot her ma'am." 

"Stand down Barnes, this is not the plan." 

They look at the screen and Alex sees Finley reise her head. 

"No! Don't do it, Fin!" She feels it. She feels it with everything that her girlfriend is about to do something stupid.

"Yea, stand down. Good dog. Bet you don't even know how to fucking shoot, don't ya Barnes? Woof woof. Good obedient fucking dog." 

"Barnes no!" 

They hear Lillian scream and then 3 gunshots. They all hold their breath and look as Finley stops breathing. 

"You stupid fool!" It's all they hear and transmission stops. Alex feels herself falling to the ground and Maggie tries to hold her.

"Finley!" The redhead sobs as her girlfriend hugs her tightly, sobs escaping both of them. She can't believe it. It's all their fault. They made her believe they don't care and she felt like she didn't have anything to fight for. It was their fault.

Two days later they held a small funeral for their girlfriend. They couldn't find the body so the casket remained empty. Lena apologizes to them a hundred times. They know it's not her fault, but they still can't believe what happened. It was their fault and the only reason Finley is dead is because of their stupid idea. 

***

Finley gasps as she shoots up to the sitting position. She looks around, she's still in the same room, but there's no one here anymore. This dying was really exhausting. The black-haired woman thought that after dying so many times, she'll be used to it. She doesn't even know where she is. At least Lillian was "kind" enough to let her free from chains. 

Fin looks at her watch to see the date. Four days passed since the day their girlfriends broke up with her. She sighs and finds her way out. Looking at her shirt stained with blood she doesn't have any other option than to ask someone where she is. 

After 4 hours of travelling, Finley finds herself by the door of her apartment. The door isn't locked, but she remembers locking it. She opens the door and in two seconds she's pinned by the door by Kara. Who knew the little blonde had this much power.

"Who are you!?" She growls and Fin sees her girlfriends, ex-girlfriends coming behind her. Their faces pale as if they've seen a ghost. 

"Let me go, what the hell! You can't attack me inside my own house like that!" 

"This isn't your house, this is Fin's house. And she died. So who are you and why are you looking like her!?" She hears Alex growling. "Let's take this impostor to the DEO for interrogation."

Before she had any chance to say anything, Kara flew her to some kind of underground base and tossed her inside a cell. 

"For fucks sake, I am Finley! Let me go, Kara!" 

One thing was Kara, that she could fly and had so much power. Another thing was them locking her up in a cell. She looks at the blonde seeing tears in the corner of her eyes and she turns around and flies out of the room. 

Few minutes later her two ex-girlfriends and Supergirl enter the room. 

"Of course, you're Supergirl. It makes more sense now. And you're what?" She looks at Alex in the same outfit she wears normally to her work. 

"Agent Danvers, Department of Extranormal Operations and this is Detective Sawyer, NCPD."

"Well obviously, I know who you are, I am not stupid. We used to date, remember? Like you broke up with me 4 days ago. I might have trouble with my memory, but I am not an idiot!" 

"Who are you!?" Maggie asks, she looks as if she was on the edge.

"I am Finley. Like you can see it. Like obviously, I'm Fin!" 

"You died!"

"How do you know I died? You weren't there?"

"We saw you dying! You were shot three times!" Alex yelled.

"Yes, see, I know." Fin points at her shirt.

"Then who are you? You're a white Martian?"

"Uhhh, what? No, I am Finley! I am immortal, I can't die!"

"We saw you dying…." 

"Sure, I die but then I wake up after my wounds heal and I'm alive again!" Finley screams irritated.

"This is bullshit! Supergirl, did you get J'onn on the phone?" The redhead asks Kara.

"Yea, he's already flying here. He'll be here any minute and then we'll know who's hiding inside Finley's body." The blonde looks at her sister. "Let's get out of here." They go out and Finley sighs. Nothing else she can do then to wait for that J'onn guy.

--

After J'onn, who Fin found out is director of DEO, read her mind and confirmed that she indeed is herself, she was let out of the cell. Two pairs of arms circled her.

"We thought you were dead…" Alex sobbed. 

Fin closes her eyes and mutters.

"I didn't know that. I thought you didn't care anymore."

"Of course we care!" Maggie huffes while wiping away her tears. "We went to your house to apologise and talk it out but you weren't there… We asked Winn to look for any street footage but there was nothing. And then Lillian transmission… We watched you die!" The raven-haired woman sobs. "We're so sorry Finnie… We got mad at you, but we shouldn't break up… And then we watched you die… We can't lose you."

Finely looks at them while wiping away her own tears. She closes her eyes. 

We're they honest? She sees them now, crying, apologising. But once everything goes back to normal… Will they still stay, or will they run away yet again.

"I understand you're sorry. I am too. I wasn't avoiding you, I was so busy, trying to maintain work and uni. But will you still stay while I will be busy yet again?"

"Finley… you're dead… officially… We pronounced you dead. You can't go back to your old life."

"What!?" Finley screams as she steps back and looks at them. "Why!?"

"Well, you died! How were we supposed to know you're not really dead?" Alex looks at her as if she told her the time.

"I died 75 times and never once did I lose my identity! What do I do now!?" 

"Seventy-five times!?" Her girlfriends look at her in shock.

"Yea, my dad used to kill me for fun. It doesn’t matter now! Who am I now. What do I do now?" 

"We can get you a new identity." The director enters the room.

"I would have to search for work again! Go through 2 years of university again! I don't have the energy to do it again." Fin sobs and looks at the ground.

"I can offer you a job here at the DEO. Your abilities would be very useful and you would train with agent Danvers. If you want, of course." The man nods. "I'll let you think and talk about it. Let me know what you decide."

Finley thought about it. It wasn't a bad offer. Sure, she wasn't ever planning on working for a secret government agency, but is really someone planning that?

She looks at her girlfriends… Ex girlfriends…? Girlfriends? But they look at her too, waiting for her decision.

"Well…"

[human-do-a-worm]

Ramblings of an Old Soldier Part 2/?

Part 1 can be found HERE

The next day, the Unkall boy came back to the old soldier, sitting on the bench where he normally does, reading his data tablet. The boy had a rather happy look on him today.

“Ah, you’re back. I take it that my story wasn’t quite enough on its own then?”

“Not quite mister. It turned out to be more than enough for my first paper. After I turned it in, my teacher said I could go ahead and write the rest of my papers for the course since I had found a primary source willing to share their experience.”

“I see. How kind of your teacher. Back when I was in school, they would have told us to stuff it.”

“So, what other stories do you have to tell?”

“How about my time in the cycle after the Martian campaign?”

“That sounds wonderful. Let me start my recorder.”

The Unkall child pushes a glowing button on his data tablet, and a blue dot appearing on the screen indicated that the recording had started

“It was less than a month after the battle on Mars; that’s one twenty-fourth of a cycle in standard units. Reconstruction had begun on mars, and the war fleets which were now all massed around Terra had been split into five groups. Group Solar and Group Lunar were the two largest of the fleets, and as such were classed together. Group Pangea, Group Gondwana, and Group Oceana were the three smaller groups, and were classed together as well. The fleets were organized in this way by Grand Admiral Demetrius, to ensure that no one fleet would have to stand against the enemy for too long a time.”

“Since I’ve brought him up, I should probably tell you a bit about the Grand Admiral. Remember what I was saying about the preparations for the battle on Mars. All the meticulous planning done to move the civilians back to Terra, and keep morale up while being an effective fighting force? Well, that came from Demetrius, and was only slightly modified by individual units as the orders were passed down the chain. His odd decision making turned out to be one of the most valuable things that humanity had, because nobody could anticipate his plans; especially the Vrumoids. He was only a rear admiral, but after his commendation, and the first victory in the war, He was immediately promoted.”

“Back to the war now. The battle plan was simple. Keep a constant pressure on the enemy, working in a single spot, pushing the enemy back system by system, and planet by planet. Where to stop would be figured out as the fleets went along. This seemed to work very well. In most systems, Groups Solar and Lunar rarely had fire a single shot. The Vrumoids would either flee or be destroyed by one of the smaller groups before the heavy guns of the heavy class ships could be brought to bear.”

“The reconquest continued almost flawlessly until there was a single human world left to reclaim. Rexorb VI was nothing more than a rock when humanity last saw it, but after looking upon it, the armada called for the command group; Group Regal; to come and take a look. At first sight of the data scans, Demetrius broke down with laughter. Failing to find the humor in this situation, his second in command asked him what was so funny.” “These poor bastards. They’ve made this planet up to be just like Mars, hoping we’ll make the same mistakes they did. Have they never been told that it’s a bad idea to try using the tactics someone created against them? They’ve made themselves the easiest targets possible for us, and what’s even better is that they did it on a mining world. There were only a few housing units on that planet, and its riches lie deep inside. This is the perfect opportunity to try a new idea.”

“With that, preparations were made swiftly, and with much laughter all around. On the back side of Rexorb VI’s moon, groups Solar, Gondwana, and Oceana moved into position, mounting themselves with their primary propulsion systems poised to drop the moon from its orbit.”

The boy spoke up

“Didn’t the Vrumoid forces on the planet notice what was happening?”

Laughing, the old man responded

“Nope. That was a benefit of only showing the enemy one small and one large battle group at a time. According to Vrumoid intelligence recovered after the war, The defenders on Rexorb VI simply thought we were just deciding how to invade properly. They had no idea Demetrius was crazy enough to consider crashing the moon into the planet, and they would have to have been crazy to even guess that the rest of the fleet would just go along with it. I know Demetrius was expecting to do some explaining to the others.”

“The High Admiral may have been absolutely insane, but he wasn’t heartless. He ordered a shuttle to take one squad and an emissary to give them one final chance to surrender. They of course, believing a ground war lay ahead, refused. That was the last mistake that the Vrumoids ever made when dealing with humanity. Exactly one planetary axis revolution after the shuttle returned to the fleet, all the pushing ships’ engines fired up. Each of the ships had worked out their individual point of no return for propelling the moon towards the planet, and had an order to pull off at what their captain deemed a safe time before reaching their point of no return. By the time the last ship pulled off, The moon was going faster than its own terminal velocity.”

“When that moon hit the surface of the planet, the entire thing cracked like a geode. After observing this from one of their comm stations, the Vrumoid Empire rushed to set up peace treaty negotiations. Of course, who was the Terran representative by unanimous vote from the United Terran Council? None other than High Admiral Demetrius. They figured that if nothing else, he could get the Vrumoids to leave humanity alone. But what he got us was something so much greater.”

“As you might have learned in class, our home system and colonies were entirely located within an isolated part of Vrumoid space. We had no knowledge of the Galactic Council Alliance, at least until one of the Vrumoid delegates at the negotiations made a mistake and asked one of his compatriots what the council would think of their actions if they ever found out. After learning that there were other intelligent species in the galaxy, Demetrius demanded that humanity be granted a swath of planets and territory directly to the territory of another GCA member.”

“This single achievement is what brought humanity forward. Demetrius did what no other Terran could do; he found sentient life that wasn’t actively trying to kill us, and he made sure we could get to them with ease. If it weren’t for him, we would have never known the GCA existed, and likely would have been either wiped out or enslaved by the Vrumoids after they rebuilt their forces.”

“Of course, after we made contact with the council, and they saw what we were able to do to a far more technologically advanced species, they demanded to see our battle reports and to speak with all the commanding officers. I remember standing there by High Admiral Demetrius’ side.”

The young Unkall spoke up ecstatically

“You were a commanding officer?”

“Sure was kiddo. Leading the charge of those bikers on mars was one hell of a brave thing, and Demetrius took note. When he got the chance to promote one of his soldiers to an admiral under his command for Group Solar, he spoke loud and clear to us and said “Where’s that crazy bastard that volunteered to charge a platoon of enemy tanks using nothing but motorcycles and bombs on sticks? I have a job for you!” That was the day I was no longer a simple marksman, I was an Admiral, and a damn good one too. My group didn’t lose a single vessel to the enemy.”

“I still remember the day I went down on that rock the day before we cracked it. The Vrumoid commander must have been watching the video recordings from when I charged the tanks, because the moment I walked into the room and she looked up at me, she looked all sorts of shaken up. When I told her that this was her last chance to accept a mercy never offered by her empire, a chance to surrender; she simply said that surrender would never come until she and her warriors no longer stood upon the planet. If only she knew the irony in those words.”

“I remember being at the peace conference, and although Demetrius had only been seen rarely by the Vrumoids, mostly in transmissions intercepted from Mars to Earth, they had seen me plenty. I think I scared them more than Demetrius did, because when I talked about how my motorcycle wasn’t out of fuel yet, they started agreeing to our demands.”

Curiously, the boy tapped something into his data tablet

“Wait a minute, are you saying that you’re Admiral Sturm?”

“Indeed I am. Admiral Jakob Sturm, service number 6556-0293-422-41, former commander of the Terran expeditionary fleet codename Solar. I proudly led my sailors, soldiers, and marines through some of the harshest battles that humanity has faced, and kept my fleet intact. I wasn’t lying when I said that I didn’t lose a ship in my group to the enemy. And after serving 10 cycles in service of my species, I left honorably.”

“So what did you do after you left? I’d imagine being an admiral is a hard job to top.”

“You’re right, admiral is a hard job to beat. I served as an ambassador of Terra for a cycle before I returned to the stars. I found some of the others from back on Mars that charged with me on that day. We were a mercenary group. We mostly took escort contracts or welfare and security for anyone we deemed especially needy. We did good work for a few cycles, but then I had to give it a rest.”

“That’s around the time your name stopped appearing in records of both the GCA and Terran reports. What happened?”

“I’ve been talking for too long. I think you might be able to get a few pages out of what I’ve said today. Better to not burn up all your content at once, right? I’ll be here again tomorrow, like I always am. I’ll tell you more then.”

“If you insist sir. I’ll be here.”

“Until then, take care. I may be old, but I still expect people to stick to a schedule.”

With that, the boy stopped his recording and went home. To meet someone as important as Admiral Sturm, who seemed to have vanished from most records 8 cycles ago, was entirely unexpected. Unexpected, but it will certainly make a wonderful paper for his teacher.

[siriuscatbennett]

The First Avenger info dump because I can

Enlistment/Dog Tags/Awards:

It is canon that Bucky Barnes enlisted on his own right after Pearl Harbor (and Steve tried). This would make his dog tags a type two. His service number would start with a 1 (enlisted army soldier) and a 2 (from New York). This site can be used to generate dog tag numbers (I haven’t tried all the functions, but be aware the O for officers is a 0 starting in 1942). 

During WW2 (amongst other times), there was the Regular Army and the Army of the United States (which no longer exists). Voluntary enlisted men were in the Regular, with draftees in the other (officers were often part of both and had two separate ranks). If you choose to divert from canon and make Bucky a draftee (I personally have always liked this fanon because I’m evil), his service number would start with 32 (drafted, New York). This would also better explain why Bucky rises to the rank of Sergeant so quickly as promotions happened constantly in the AUS ( Dwight D. Eisenhower rose from a colonel to five-star general in three years). 

Steve would have a different type of dog tags than Bucky (including a different chain). He would have a type three (as would anyone between July 20, 1943 and March 31, 1944). I will illustrate the differences below with the custom tags I made for Steve's sister and Bucky in my fanfic (feel free to use the info from them). The N and 7 in her tag are for nurse.

The T42 you’ll see below is the year tetanus shots were recieved. I’ve seen some with two years and some with one. The B is blood type and the P is religion. 

Steve received an award for rescuing the POWs. Seeing as this wasn’t presented by the president, I’ve decided it was the Distinguished Service Cross. This award comes with a $2 pay raise; as a Captain, Steve previously made $200 a month, paid monthly (post-serum). Bucky made $78 as a Sergeant, with a $3.90 pay raise after 3 years of service (December 1944). Steve also obtained SSR pins after joining them (and I believe the Howling Commandos should have as well). (Even though nurses had the rank of an officer, they didn’t get equal pay until after WW2. They earned $70 a month for the first 3 years.)

Many soldiers put their second dog tag in their boot, usually slipped on the shoe laces in between the tongue and top of the shoe.

Not a fact, but I will add a link here to a website where you can either buy Bucky/Steve’s dogtags or make custom ones for $10 (personally, I would advocate for the custom as Bucky’s say he’s not from NY and show he is a draftee. Also, he has type B blood, not O. And Steve is Protestant, not Catholic. The site also states officer’s service numbers didn’t start with 9, but those with special duties did. His service number would most like be between 800000 and 999999, starting with a 0- to show he’s an officer).

Sister: Margaret E Rogers N-724669 T42 B                         P

Bucky: James B Barnes 12831412 T42 B Margaret Rogers (next of kin) 1404 Alameda Ave (next of kin address) Brooklyn NY     P (address, religion)

Italian Front:

Seeing as the 107th were venturing to England in June 1943, they most likely headed straight to Sicily from there (or diverged if they had fuel) to aid in the invasion, continuing into the invasion of the mainland before pushing troops back toward Austria. Italy surrendered at the very beginning of the invasion of the mainland, so the Allies only fought Nazis and Italian soldiers loyal to Mussolini (National Republican Army), who was arrested during the invasion of Sicily and broken out during the mainland invasion. Seeing as Chester Phillips and Peggy were with Steve, they must have joined the 107th later. In my canon, they (and Howard) join at the beginning of the mainland invasion. 

AM-lira (Allied-Military Currency), 100 "am-lire" for a U.S. dollar, was the currency specifically put into circulation for Allied Military after the landing in Sicily. It was used interchangeably with their normal currency. Once the Howling Commandoes join the SSR, they use British currency. 

The 107th’s camp pre-Battle of Azzano was most likely behind the  Volturno Line. Azzano is part of Umbria, which was about 170 miles into enemy territory. 

Post-Azzano, the camp was most likely behind the Barbara Line. Walking approx 533 miles from Kreuzberg, Austria, with troops alternating resting periods in the trucks, walking approximately 42 miles for 12 hours a day, they would reach camp in thirteen days.

Random:

Steve’s canon address according to Avengers is 1404 Alameda Ave. Brooklyn, NY 11362. This is a Queens zip code. I changed it to 11237.

As a Sergeant, Bucky would command a squad of 12 soldiers (privates), split into 3 fireteams. He was also assigned a PFC (one of the scout riflemen) as an assistant; this soldier could serve as either the squad leader's messenger to the platoon commander or could be used to relay orders to other squad teams, as needed. Sergeants are responsible for the individual training, personal appearance and cleanliness of their soldiers, and are expected to set a standard for lower-ranked soldiers to live up to.

Women did have their own army sect for part of the war (Women’s Army Corps) but they didn’t go overseas as they didn’t legally get benefits overseas {I didn’t read a lot on this, take this with a grain of salt}. They did all the non-fighting jobs like listening to radio transmissions and fixing weapons. 

On the ship, there were three-tier bunks. Enlisted men got footlockers under their beds (you could lift up the base), while officers got standing lockers. I would assume water on ships was cold, filtered from the ocean, and they had showers.

Showers were available but not popular at this time, just like hot water heaters. Many people still boiled water to take baths. People also didn’t bathe as often and there was only one kind of shampoo and no conditioner. Women made their own concoctions, used soap, or straight up would do egg masks. Hair was kept clean by doing the “100 strokes” with a hairbrush that was cleaned after every use. Indoor heating also wasn’t used everywhere, leaving many places still using things like fireplaces and wood stoves.

Soldiers used latrines in WW2. They also used a bucket of water and a bar of soap to wash. When water was unavailable and snow was, it was melted and used. They could also simply use things like rivers and lakes if available but if unnecessary, weren't used as lice was prevalent along with disease. Clothes weren't washed often (depending on the situation, some men went weeks without washing their uniform, only changing into dry socks when necessary) but when they were, they were boiled in big pots of water in mass and hung on a line to dry (there were also other ways, but I preferred this one). They carried an extra shirt, socks and laces, water canteen, ammunition, a spade, grenades, a gas mask, food rations, a cup, a wash kit (toothpaste, razor, comb, etc), first aid pouch, and a helmet (usually on their head) in their haversack's/on their belt (and rations, of couse). There was also a tent pack, but most soldiers would simply carry a raincoat. Lots of candles and oil lanterns to light the night. Canvas water bags – also known as Lister bags – were hung around camps and used for dispensing drinking water in which a dose of chlorine was added for purification.

Medical:

Morbidity from such diseases as tuberculosis (anti-tuberculosis agents didn’t begin to appear until 1949), rheumatic fever, typhus, dysentery, and malaria were high. There were tuberculosis quarantine wards separate from the other patients and were eventually evacuated. Frostbite was also common during the cold. Hepatitis A and B were also prevalent. Trench foot was also common, sometimes leading to jungle rot (often referred to as 'the creeping cruds'). PTSD was known then as 'battle fatigue'; men showcasing symptoms were often just given rest and food near the front lines and would normally rejoin the fight in a few days or were evacuated if necessary. All soldiers were vaccinated against tetanus, typhoid, smallpox, cholera, and yellow fever before shipping out. Dental hygiene was extremely important and many field hospitals were equipped with dental prosthetics. 

Food:

A-Rations referred to fresh/refrigerated meats, bread, and vegetables, prepared in mess halls. These meals were basically the same as C-rations, but fresh and always warm.

C-Rations consisted of one M-unit (12 oz can, meat), one B-unit (12 oz can, bread/dessert), and an accessory pack. Each daily ration consisted of three M-units, three B-units, and three accessory packs (one for each meal). The cans were made of tinplate. The cans had a gold lacquer finish. C-rations can be eaten cold or hot and were cooked with a Coleman's pocket stove (which was made specifically for WW2 soldiers).

M-units initially had three kinds: meat and beans, meat and potato hash, and meat and vegetable stew. In 1943, meat and spaghetti in tomato sauce was added; along with meat and noodles, pork and rice, frankfurters and beans, and chicken & vegetables in 1944. 1944 also brought a chopped ham, egg, & potato unit and compressed cereal B-units to replace meat & vegetable hash.

B-units contained crackers, three sugar tablets, loose candy (Brach's chocolate caramels, candy-coated peanuts/raisins, Charms hard candy), and a packet/small can of beverage mix (instant coffee, powdered lemon drink, or bouillon soup powder). Orange drink powder was added in 1944. Due to spoilage, the loose candy was replaced in 1944 with a Brach's fudge disk or a Jim dandy.

Accessory packs (brown butcher paper) contained sugar tablets, water purification tablets, a flat wooden spoon, a piece of candy-coated chewing gum, three 3-packs or one 9-pack of cigarettes, a book of 20 moisture resistant matches, a paper-wrapped P-38 can opener (with instructions that everyone immediately throws out), and about 22.5 sheets of toilet paper. Cigarette brands included Camel, Chelsea, Chesterfield, Craven A-Brand, Lucky Strike, Old Gold, Philip Morris, Player's, Raleigh, and Wings (these were traded constantly). Can openers were meant to be disposable but soldiers wore them on their dog tags for later use either with opening cans or other things (clean muddy boots, screw screws, open letters, strip wires, trim loose thread, and sharpen pencils). 

Seriously. They really gave every single soldier three can openers a day. With printed instructions. During metal rationing. Of which soldiers just put them on thier dog tag chains for later use. Where did all these excess can openers go? And why half a sheet of toilet paper? 

Clothes:

The nurses wore an olive drab service jacket and skirt (they are seen in pants as well) and cap, khaki shirt and tie, and brown shoes (wore nursing shoes or boots). The rank insignia (a single gold bar for second lieutenants, the vast majority of nurses) was worn on the epaulets. A gold "U.S." pin was worn on each collar, and a gold caduceus with a red N was worn on each lapel. Whenever the service jacket wasn't worn, the rank insignia was pinned to the right collar, the caduceus on the left.

Soldier’s field uniforms looked like this (with some adjustments based on gun used). And yes, the leggings are neccessary, they helped keep feet dry: 

The layout I made for Steve’s apartment (there are 2 beds and dressers in the spare room because Bucky lives there too, feel free to change this):

These aren’t all the links I used, because I’ve gone through a lot, like a lot, but here are the ones I saved that are relevant (I don’t like using wiki but I cross-checked any info stated above):

https://www.google.com/amp/s/screenrant.com/winter-soldier-mcu-complete-timeline-bucky-barnes/amp/ https://movies.stackexchange.com/questions/65170/how-did-bucky-get-the-rank-of-sergeant https://marvel-movies.fandom.com/wiki/Steven_Rogers https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_campaign_(World_War_II) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allied_invasion_of_Sicily https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allied_invasion_of_Italy https://history.amedd.army.mil/booksdocs/wwii/medsvcsinmedtrnmnrthrtrs/chapter6.htm https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squad https://www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/comments/4j8zos/pay_of_american_gis_during_world_war_ii/ https://blogs.stockton.edu/womeninwwtwo/womens-military-involvemnt/womens-nurse-corps/#:~:text=The%20pay%20of%20members%20in,per%20month%E2%80%9D%20(2). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Service_number_(United_States_Army) https://www.med-dept.com/articles/u-s-army-ww2-dog-tags/

Find me on Wattpad here where all of this information and more will be compiled in a Bucky Barnes series with mediocre writing (coming soon). 

[wonnoy]

yamaguchi and smart cars

i feel like if anyone were to own a smart car, it would be yamaguchi and it'd be white, so here's a short fic about it

[][]

it was one of those breezy summer days where it was the perfect temperature and everything just felt right. you were pulled up at a stop light, the hum of your smart car vibrating nicely in your ears. yes, your smart car.

it was bright yellow, had a top speed of 120mph and gear shifted like a bitch. but you absolutely adored it.

it was a gift from your mother when you finally got your license and you've been driving it for the past five years. student in college with no debt on your shoulder but still too poor to fix the poor transmission on your car. you were quite literally driving it into the grave.

you pushed your foot on the brake when coming to the red light at the intersection. you were first in the line, windows down, a pair of shades on and with your radio blasting music from the aux connected to your phone.

you were well aware that your car brought a lot of attention to itself, it wasn't a very popular car where you lived - excluding the bright yellow it already was. so you were used to the eyes it brought whenever you rolled up. sometimes, people even took pictures with you posing for them.

that was the extent of it.

your fingers drummed lazily against the steering wheel, the light you were currently at notoriously being the longest to sit at. you could barely hear yourself think over the music blasting from your abused speakers let alone the mans voice trying to get your attention. you reached for the volume, turned it down, and looked over to your left.

holy.

there was another smart car next to you, blindingly white with electric stamped right above the wheel and what looked to be a tiny volleyball over the 'i'.

iconic.

the guy yelling out your name was leaning over his friend in the passenger seat with his hand next to his mouth. he smiled brightly when he saw you finally looking at him. his hair was green, contrasting every other decoration in his car that you could spot (everything in there was white). with his freckles, he looked like a tanned strawberry. he looked like a tourist, a small little volleyball sparkling on his chest on a silver chain and a pink floral printed shirt. his shades were golden, perched right behind a spring of hair on his head.

you couldn't see his friend from the way that he was pressing himself into the passenger seat, but you could tell he was much taller than the car itself.

"your smart car looks so cool!" he called out to you and he stuck his thumb out, winking at you. you blushed a little. a cute guy, in a cute smart car, complimenting you? something like that has only happened in your dreams and you squashed those dreams maybe a year ago. you swallowed and gave a complimenting smile back towards him.

"why thank you," you said, "mr. carrot top," you teased, sliding your sunglasses down over your eyes. you could see his stunned expression though the tinted view of your glasses before his grin returned.

"your banana go kart can't compete with the white damba here," he laughed at you, pretending to caress the dashboard of his smartcar. you scoffed at him, pressing your foot down on the pedal. your car practically whined when you did that, mr. carrot top doesn't know who he's messing with.

to anyone else who was listening to you trying to race the 'white damba' (as he put it), someone would have laughed hysterically at you both. your car sounded like a toy car that you moved back for it shoot forward.

"you wanna bet?" you stuck your tongue out at him before glancing up at the light to check if it was still red. it felt like you've been here forever.

the guy looked at your and gripped his steering wheel looking away before making eye contact with you again, "you can't hear it, but i'm pressing on the petal too," he said with a cheeky smile. oh right, because it's electric. you barked out a small laugh before nodding your head at him. you felt giddy, as if you were middle school again by doing something so silly.

"what do i get if i win?" you looked back over at him, smile smile idly playing on your lips. you didn't miss the way he licked his.

"maybe i'll give you a kiss?" his thumb tapped on the wheel and his friend put a hand up to their head. you know for a fact that he was probably muttering something but you couldn't exactly hear it. you could imagine what this interaction was feeling like for his friend right now.

"that feels like more a reward for you if you win, how about your number instead?" you winked again at him. you looked up quickly at the red light you sat at, seeing other cars start to slow down in front of you. you would be moving again soon.

"first one to the wendy's parking lot wins then?" he pushed his glasses down over his eyes and looked forward again, both hands gripping the wheel again. you snorted lightly before getting ready to race him too. you were pretty sure you knew which wendy's he was talking about.

the cars that were passing in front of you had fully stopped now and you knew it was any millisecond now when it would finally be your turn. you took one last glance at carrot top before looking back and the light turning green.

your foot slammed so quick on the pedal and your poor little tires worked so hard the moment you did that - you were more than certain that you left little tire marks on ground. the whine of your engine was anything but quiet and you lurched back into your seat with whatever horsepower your car had. the needle on your dashboard went into the red zone, something that you've never accomplished.

next to you, you could see the white damba zoom a little quicker than your car and you grit your teeth. a kiss from him doesn't sound bad (and you were sure that it wouldn't feel bad either) but you, for one, would hate to lose. your car pushed you forward with every gear shift, elbows chicken-boning each time it did.

it hadn't been longer than six seconds until you finally pulled out level with the white damba, not even sparing a glance at it's cute driver. instead focusing on the quickly approaching wendy's sign. your speedometer was pushing into the 50's now with 45 being the speed limit for the road you were currently on.

you were only hoping that there were no cops around or speed cameras out to catch your license plate number.

you had barely just pulled ahead of the white damba before your indicator was on and you drifted into the wendy's parking lot. you were more than certain that you would have to take your poor car to the mechanic after this whole ordeal. you narrowly missed the light pole in the parking lot trying to park your quickly with the white damba following your exact moves. the adrenaline was pumping through more than just your veins, making your heart throb.

you tried to keep your breaths even, more alarm by yourself because of what you just did. racing a complete stranger because they were cute and in another smart car. is this all that it takes for you to be irrational?

a cute face? you looked in your rearview mirror watching the white damba pull up, you barely caught a glance of the man's face before it moved out of view.

you sighed heavily, yea, it was.

he pulled up next to him, honking his horn and it sounded exactly like a tiny honk coming from a child. you looked over at him, the cockiest smile that you could muster on your face.

"didn't think that you could beat me honestly," he said whilst unbuckling himself from his seat. his friend however didn't even move but you could hear him muttering again. the guy stepped out of his car and so you took the hint to do that same.

after stepping out, you placed a hand down on your hip, "so does this mean i get your number?" you grinned.

"can i at least tell you my name before you do? so it isn't just cool smart car guy?" he grinned at you. he's a bit of a smooth talker isn't he? you shook your head at him and smiled.

"the number will do," you reached through your window to grab your phone, "for now at least."

in the side mirror of your car you could see the guy fist bump the air furiously as in a way of victory. he acted so boyishly despite the devious flirting he was doing with you at the stop light. you pulled up the contacts on your phone and put in for the contact name 'race loser' before handing it to him.

"tha-" he stopped short seeing the name and frowned, "race loser? really?" he scoffed and typed his number in.

you sent a message to the phone hearing an instant cheap ringtone in response. was that his ringtone?

you jumped back into your car and waved back at him through the window. the carrot top went to the car window leaning into it.

"can i at least get your name?" he smiled at you. your heart lightly fluttered at the look of it before shaking your head - you were not about to give in so easily.

"sorry, but that wasn't apart of the bet,"

[][

cute, lol

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [58]

xiii. praimfaya 

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: angst, mentions of radiation sickness/poisoning, injuries, stitching up wounds.

Summary: the end is near, praimfaya approaches. a last minute plan to go to space leaves your small group scrambling to get ready in time. 

a/n: IT’S HERE THE FINALE IS HERE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK BC IT HELPS ME A LOT TO DETERMINE IF THERE IS INTEREST IN SUB ROSA CONTINUING!!! OKAY I LOVE YOU LITTLE MOONS!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

March 21st, 2150; Becca’s Lab; less than 2 hours until Praimfaya

The planning that goes into sending 9 people into space is a lot more intense than you expected. You spend the next couple of hours trying to figure everything out, get the rocket modified, and informing those in the bunker of your plans. Right now, you are in the office with Bellamy, sitting near the radio, talking to Octavia. He just told her everything, down to the smallest of your plans, letting her know exactly what challenges you’re facing, and she seems surprised that you’re even doing this. “Five years. Can you really survive up there?”

“Raven says we can. As soon as it's safe, we'll find a way back down. We will meet again.”

“I'll be waiting…” She pauses, giving the moment a dramatic effect before finishing, “Under the floor.”

“You're not that little girl anymore.” He sits back, waiting for her response, met with nothing but silence. He glances at you and then over to the radio, his brotherly instincts kicking in. “What is it, O?”

“I'm not sure I'm up for this, Bell. They look at me like I know what I'm doing, just because I won a fight.”

“They look at you like that because you saved them, but it won't last. Now you have to lead.”

“How? I'm not a leader. It should be you or one of the twins or-”

He cuts her off, nipping the insecurity in the bud. “O, stop. None of us could've done what you did, and it wasn't just winning a fight. You gave people hope when there was none. You're Prometheus, stealing fire from the gods and giving it back to the human race.”

You smile at your history nerd, proud of his metaphor, and Octavia jokes, “Prometheus got chained to a rock so that eagles could eat his liver.”

“Thanks for ruining my metaphor, O.”

You and Bellamy laugh, and you can hear Octavia laughing on the other end before she gets serious again. “I love you, big brother. Guess it takes the end of the world for me to say it.”

He drops his head, and you can see him fighting back tears, after weeks of desperately wanting to hear the words from his little sister. “I love you, too.”

He lets go of the button, and a static that wasn't there before comes through, growing louder and quieter every few seconds. Bellamy looks at the radio in confusion, and then fear, as he questions, “O? Hey, O, are you there?”

When she doesn't answer, he fiddles with the dials, and you stand from your chair nearby and come to settle beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his thigh as he repeats, “Are you there, O?”

When nothing comes through, he drops his head again, the tears threatening to fall, before he pushes them away and whispers, “May we meet again.”

You echo, “May we meet again.”

The door to the office opens and Clarke steps inside, looking happy, blissfully unaware that the radio cut out before you could talk to your mom. She smiles at you, “Hey, do they have her?”

“The radio's dead, we won't get to say goodbye to mom.”

Her face falls at your words and you stand and walk over to her, pulling her into a hug as she starts to cry. You comfort her, feeling your own wash of sadness, and you feel Bellamy place his hand on your shoulder, allowing you to draw strength from him. The moment doesn't last for long though, because Murphy yells from down in the lab, “Twins of Terror, Bellamy, get down here!”

You all run out of the office and down the stairs into the lab, stopping beside the others to watch the giant screens in front of you. One of Becca’s drones is situated outside of Polis, filming the tower, and in the background you can see Praimfaya approaching, the large, fiery death wave barreling towards the tower. You reach out and grab Bellamy’s and Clarke’s hands, all three of you connected as you watch the death wave cover the tower, before it knocks out the drone itself, ending the signal. 

Your stomach drops as the transmission ends, aware that now, all 9 of you are well and truly alone, with no help or assistance coming from your friends and family. Raven stares at the blank screen, her voice a horrified whisper. “It's 210 miles from Polis to the island. According to what was our last drone, the wave is accelerating.”

This new challenge hits her, making her think, and she starts to whisper a list of things that need to be done for this mission to be successful. “If we're not off the ground at least 20 minutes before it hits, the electromagnetic charge in the pyroclastic cloud will shut down the rocket's avionics, meaning it won't fly. That gives us 90 minutes to run a 6 hour preflight check, retrieve the oxygen generator from the lighthouse, turn a cockpit designed for two into one that can carry 9, and load the cargo hold with enough food to keep us from starving in space while we wait for algae to bloom.”

Murphy quips, “I thought you said it was gonna be hard.”

“That's not the hard part. Becca designed her rocket to dock with Polaris, not the Ark. That means I have to pilot it into the hangar bay on the ring.”

Harper looks towards Raven, shaking her head in confusion. “What's so hard about that?”

“That's not the hard part, either.”

Clarke starts to grow exasperated and she looks over at Raven. “What is the hard part, Raven?”

“Assuming we blast off in time, CO2 scrubbers on a two person rocket won't support 9 of us.”

You shrug, “So, we use supplemental oxygen.”

Monty informs you, and the group, what makes that a challenge. “Our tanks only hold an hour of air.”

“Correct. We'll have one hour to get into orbit, land in the hangar bay, and fire up the life support system using an oxygen generator built to supply a lighthouse bachelor pad.”

Murphy looks over at Raven and deadpans, “You suck at talking people into things. You know that, right?”

“Anyone here still need to be talked into this?” Bellamy looks around at everyone, waiting for each of you to shake your head no before he looks at Raven. “Good. Now we know the many ways we might die today, why don't you tell us what we have to do to live?”

Raven turns to the monitor and pulls up a 90 minute timer for all of you to keep an eye on, before she starts to hand out assignments. “Monty and Murphy, I need the two of you to go to the lighthouse bunker and get the oxygen generator.”

She hands them the tools they’ll need and the two boys nod and quickly begin their journey. Raven turns to Harper, Emori, and Echo. “I need you three to help me get the rocket ready, run the preflight check, and pack up the food.”

They nod, awaiting further instruction, before she turns and looks over at you, Bellamy, and Clarke. “I need you to go over the plans again, thoroughly, and make sure all the calculations are correct. Otherwise, this is all for nothing. Everything is up top on the next level of the lab.”

She points you to where you need to go, and all three of you immediately head there and start to comb over the plans, schematics, and data laid out before you, ensuring everything seems correct. You’ve run through it at least three times before Bellamy gets distracted, and walks away from the table, looking out over the lab, over to where the others are preparing the rocket. You look over at him, watching him, as Clarke begins again. “So, let's go over this again. I figure two months until the algae farm produces enough food to feed us. If we ration the MREs, we should get there.”

She looks over at you and Bellamy, realizing you’re not listening, and she sighs. “I’m going to take a break. Be back in a few.”

You nod and watch as she heads towards the stairs into the main part of the lab, and you walk over to where Bellamy is standing at the railing, nervously tapping his fingers. When he sees you approach, he smiles, and shakes his head in disbelief. “Grounders in space, it's an oxymoron.”

“It was the only choice.” You smile and shrug, “Only choice, also an oxymoron, by the way.”

He turns towards you, eyes anxiously scanning over you, the way he seems to do every hour since you coughed up blood in the snow. He runs his hand over the top of your head, to the sweat gathered there, and pulls a face. “So is cold sweat. I’m still holding out hope for that Nightblood solution.”

“Seems like there was never any solution. I guess Alie was right about that.”

“Hey, Our fight isn't over, not yet.”

You shrug again, thinking of your mom’s vision that she seems so convinced of. Clarke seems to feel the same way, because every mention of it leaves her worried. “My mom had a vision of me and Clarke dying, apparently just like the one Raven had that told her there was a rocket here.” 

“It is not the same thing.”

“Maybe not. But they were both EMP'd.”

“Abby will be fine, Raven told her how to stop it.”

You shake your head, Bellamy still not understanding. Maybe you’ve evaded Death too many times before and this really is it. If it is, not many people get the chance to say goodbye to the love of their life, and you’re starting to feel like you should take this rare opportunity and remind him how you feel. “That's not what I'm talking about. If anything happens to me-”

He immediately cuts you off, not wanting to hear this conversation. “Nothing is happening to you.”

He tries to walk away, deflecting, distracting, motioning towards the charts on the table. “Come on, let's run these water numbers again.”

You reach out and grab his hand, your voice and expression pleading. “Please, Bellamy, I need you to hear this.”

You wait and he nods, letting you know he’ll give you this one goodbye. You take a deep breath and begin, “You and I have been through a lot together. The moment I met you in the halls of the Ark, I thought you were an asshole. That didn't change once we got to the ground, but somehow, someway, I found myself hating you less and less with each passing day. I never would have thought that the guy that threatened me my first day on the ground would turn out to be the love of my life, but I’m so glad you are. I’m so thankful for every second that I’ve gotten to spend with you. I have loved seeing you grow from a selfish asshole into a caring leader, always willing to do anything to save his people. I trust you, I trust your heart, I trust your decisions. The only thing I ask, is that you watch your emotions, check on how you feel. Sometimes your heart rules you, my stormy love, and you make rash decisions based on how you feel. Step back, evaluate everything, and do what’s best for everyone. That’s how we’ll survive, that’s how we’ll deserve to survive.”

Tears well up in his eyes as you talk to him, eventually spilling down his cheeks as you say what might be your last goodbye. He pulls you towards him, into a kiss, pushing his feelings into it. You feel his wet tears graze your cheeks as he reminds you of his love for you, making sure you never forget that you have his heart and that he’s better for it. When he pulls away, you realize that you’re now crying too, suddenly faced with the idea that you don't want to die, you don't want to be without him. But sometimes, these things lie in the lap of the gods, and you can't control it. If Death is coming for the Bringer of Death, then so be it. 

Unfortunately, a soft moment can never stay a soft moment on the ground, because chaos always strikes at some point. This moment is no exception, as a giant zapping sound comes from inside the rocket, followed by Raven’s loud cry of anger. You and Bellamy turn to look at the rocket in alarm before you run down the stairs, meeting up with Clarke at the bottom before you run over to the rocket and peek inside, looking down at Raven who is waving smoke away from her head. “Raven, what is it?”

“Oh, there isn't enough time. We're pushing too hard.”

Bellamy shakes his head, giving her a concerned look. “What's happening?”

She ignores him and calls out, “Computer, systems check.”

“Launch system...optimal. Navigation system...optimal. Life support system...assessing damage.”

Raven waves off the worry she sees crossing your faces. “It's okay, we're using supplemental, anyway.”

“All life support systems are offline.”

She nods, holding a finger up at the three of you. “Just wait, two more.”

“Landing system...optimal. Communication system...assessing damage.” She drops her head, looking slightly worried as she awaits the verdict. “All communication systems are offline.”

“Recommend repair options for communication system.”

Harper looks her way, not understanding your pilot’s worry. “Who cares? There's no one to talk to, anyway.”

“Quiet.”

“Damage is beyond repair. Total system replacement required.”

Raven sits frozen in place, staring off into the distance, and Bellamy looks at her, concerned. “Talk to us, Raven.”

“We're not going anywhere.” She looks over at the fried panel, before she storms out of the rocket, yelling at the computer as she leaves, “Computer, terminate launch sequence.”

You, Bellamy, and Clarke exchange a worried look before you all hurry after her, and Harper, Emori, and Echo join you as you come to a stop around Raven. She’s staring down at a tablet in her hand, and you try to get her attention. “Raven, explain.”

“It's simple, there's no power in the ring. Two minutes ago, I thought it wasn't a problem because I could activate it remotely.”

Clarke nods her head, starting to understand. “Over the rocket's comms system.”

Bellamy shrugs, and tries to offer a solution, “So we turn the power on from the inside. “

“We can't get inside, that's the point. Without power, we can't even open the hangar door.”

Clarke steps closer to her, trying to diffuse the situation. “Raven, think. You've solved bigger problems than this before.”

“Oh, yeah, not in 53 minutes.”

“Raven-”

She cuts her off, plopping down onto the stairs to the rocket with defeat. “It's over, Clarke! You know, maybe if I still had Alie's code eating away at my brain, I could figure it out. I'm not smart enough myself.”

Clarke turns around, looking lost at what to say, and you all turn to Bellamy, knowing he’s the best at pep talks. He accepts the role and sits down beside Raven, his voice soft. “Raven, you can do this. How many times have you saved our asses before you ever even heard of Alie?”

“Too many to count.”

“You're damn right. We don't need Alie on the Ark, we need you.” Something about his words stop her falling tears, and she stares at him, clearly working through something in her head. “What?”

She jumps up very suddenly, pacing around your small group. “Alie was on the Ark, Alie was on the Ark! I was right there, so close to the kill switch, but she got away by transmitting herself to the ring.”

Emori nods, remembering. “Using the pod in the temple.”

“Yes! If she can do it, so can we.”

You look at her, not sure how she expects to get to the pod in the temple. “Raven, we'll never make it back to Polis on time, and the radios are dead.”

“We have something better than radios: the satellite tower.” She turns and points to Echo, Emori, and Harper. “You three, back in the cockpit, finish those restraints.”

They immediately follow her directions and climb back into the rocket, and she turns to you, Clarke, and Bellamy. “You three, helmets on. You're with me.”

She starts to walk away, but she remembers there's one last thing to do first. “Computer, resume launch sequence!”

“Resuming launch sequence.”

She grabs her helmet and the three of you grab yours, following her out of the lab and to the surface, her tablet still in hand, and she stops outside in the snow, pointing to the tower in the distance. “The tower's less than a mile away. All you have to do is plug this into the junction box at the base of the tower. Sat-Star-One is the name of the dish.”

She hands the tablet to Clarke, and you repeat back, “Sat-Star-One.”

“Everything is set. Once the tablet is connected, the dish will align itself with the Ark. The graphic will flash green, and that's how you know it's locked on. When it says 'send', you hit send, and the power up signal will turn on the lights, and that's it. Are there any questions?”

She finishes her instruction with a smile, leaving the three of you a little unsettled given the gravity of the situation. “Yeah, why are you smiling?”

“Because without comms, even with the power on, we still can't open the hangar bay door from inside the rocket.”

Bellamy shakes his head, his helmet shifting slightly from the movement. “Wait. How is that a good thing?”

Clarke connects the dots first. “She gets to take her space walk.”

Movement behind Raven pulls all of your eyes in that direction, watching as an orange suited figure climbs over the snow and runs towards you, struggling with a large machine part in their hands. You all run towards them, recognizing Murphy, who puts the machine down at your feet as you look around for the other man he was with. “Murphy, where's Monty?”

Murphy glances up at Bellamy, struggling to catch his breath. “He's in trouble, he had to expose his hands. He passed out. If we go back now, we can get to him.”

Bellamy looks over at you, expression worried and Murphy quips, “You can be impressed with me later, we gotta go.”

Raven picks up on the indecision in the group, turning to tell Bellamy, “Aligning the dish is a two person job at best, the twins can handle it. Harper will help me with the generator. Go!”

They start to run off, the ticking countdown making all of you too anxious and too eager. You call out to Bellamy before he gets too far, “Bellamy-”

He spins around, practically buzzing with nervous energy. “If this is one of those moments where you tell me to stop and think-”

You cut him off, “No, I was just gonna say, hurry. And that I love you.”

The words never fail to soften him, and ease some of his anxiety. “I love you more than the stars. See you in a few.”

You nod and he turns and runs into the woods, following Murphy, and you watch them until they’re out of sight as Raven hands Clarke a pack. “Monty's pack, everything's inside. It's gonna take you a good 10 minutes to get back from the tower and down to the cockpit. You have to leave that tower with 10 minutes on the clock or you'll both be left behind.”

Clarke tries to hide the anxiety in her voice, but fails as she checks her timer and sees 25 minutes on the countdown. “Ten minutes, we got this.”

You give Raven one last look, “Any last advice?”

“Yeah, run fast.”

And that’s all she has to say to push you and Clarke into gear. The two of you take off running towards the tower, ignoring the struggle of running in the snow in clunky suits. You can feel your earlier radiation poisoning wanting to slow you down, but you ignore it, determined to make it there and back in time. Your path takes you to the top of a small hill, the tower just at the bottom of it, and you lift your timer to check the time. “Eleven minutes.”

You and Clarke exchange a worried look before you scramble down the small hill to the panel of the tower, and you pull it open while Clarke grabs the tablet from the pack. You scan the names, looking for the right one, excited when you see it. “Sat-Star-One!”

You point to the right outlet and she plugs the cord in, both of you looking towards the tablet with excitement. But your excitement turns to frustration when the computer beeps, “Dish not aligned. Dish not aligned.”

“What did we do wrong?!”

“I don't know, radio for help!”

Clarke grabs the radio from the pack and frantically calls out, “Raven, please say that you can hear me. Something went wrong. We did everything you said, but it wouldn't-” Something on the door of the panel catches her eye and she reads outloud, “Manual operation? You've got to be kidding me.”

You both look up the tower, to the very top, where the dish is situated, before you exchange a look, knowing what you have to do. When you check the time on your countdown, it’s ten minutes on the dot. If both of you want to survive, you have to leave now. But if you leave now, you’ll all die in space, unable to get in the Ark. Clarke pushes the radio into your hand and starts to unplug the tablet, “Get back to the rocket, I’ll meet you there.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!”

“If you don’t, you’ll die!”

You grab her hand, holding her in place. “Mom’s vision had both of us dying. If this is it, then this is it. No avoiding it now. Stronger together.”

“Stronger together.” She repeats it back to you, accepting this, before she moves over to the ladder and starts to climb. Before you follow her, you lift the radio. “Bellamy...if you can hear me, don't wait. I love you, so so much.”

You run over to the ladder and start to climb up behind your twin, watching as you climb higher and higher. Each rung that brings you higher into the sky brings you a better glimpse of the approaching death wave, growing more terrifying the higher you get. Each time your arms move to pull you higher, you get a glimpse of the countdown, and when you’re halfway up, you whisper, “Oso gonplei ste odon.”

Our fight is over. Finally, the two of you reach the top, just as the timer on your wrist starts to beep, signaling that you’re out of time. Less than a minute later, you hear a sound tearing through the air, followed closely by the rocket, launching into the sky. You and Clarke both watch it, left behind, and you feel emotion start to grab you and choke you. Clarke reaches out and squeezes your hand, reminding you, “They’re not safe yet. Not until we get the power on.”

You nod and turn towards the control panel, watching as Clarke plugs in the tablet again, the computer repeating, “Dish not aligned. Dish not aligned.”

Clarke smacks the side of the panel, growing frustrated, “Come on, turn!”

She looks up at the dish, and you catch onto her line of thinking, already reaching towards the ladder that will take you up to the satellite. “Tell me where to go, Clarke!”

You climb up to the dish and start to pull it towards you, the satellite pointing into the sky. You hear it make a clicking sound, and you look down at Clarke, who calls out, “Good, now push it forward!”

You do as she says, pushing the satellite forward, pointing it towards the ground, until you hear another click. You look down for more direction, and she yells, “Pull it back again!”

You pull it back again, using all of your strength to get it as far back as possible, until you hear the third and final click. When you look down at Clarke, she screams, “Yes! Dish aligned!”

You lower yourself back down to her, just as she hits the send button. The two of you watch the green bar load, the message taking an agonizingly long time to send, until finally it goes through, a small little message popping up in the corner. “Sent!”

Both of you hug the best you can given the suits still on your body, pulling away when you realize the growing roar of something fast approaching. You look out towards the sky again, the death wave now horrifyingly close, and the two of you exchange a terrified look before Clarke yells, “Go, go, go!”

The two of you scramble down the ladder faster than you thought was humanly possible, running and stumbling through the snow, trying to escape Praimfaya, which seems to stay right at your backs. As you near the lab, the death wave roaring right behind you, Clarke stumbles and falls, the distinct sound of breaking glass heard as she hits the ground. You reach out for her and grab her, and at the same time she tries to jump to her feet, causing the two of you to collide in an awkward way, the broken glass of her helmet tearing into the left suit of your arm. You let out a cry of pain, the glass cutting into your skin, before both of you clamp a hand over your exposed areas and take off running again, nearly at the door to the lab. 

The death wave seems to overtake you both as you reach the door, and Clarke pulls it open, stumbling inside. You run in after her, pulling the door closed, both of you slipping and sliding inside on wet, snowy shoes. Clarke stumbles to the table you were running numbers at less than two hours earlier, and she tugs off her helmet, instantly coughing up blood. Her face is covered in lesions, red and angry, and she stumbles once, before falling to the ground, unconscious. You run over to her and try to lift her, but the movement tugs on your arm, forcing you to cry out in pain. You check and make sure Clarke’s still breathing before you do anything else, and once you’re sure she’s still alive, you pull yourself from your suit, screaming as the suit takes some of your skin with it. 

The cut on your arm definitely needs stitches, black blood dripping from the wound and running over the lesions on your arm, and you fumble around for a first aid kit, already feeling weak and sick. You sob with pain the entire time you stitch up your arm, doing the best you can as the stitches tug and pull on the fragile skin. Finally, once the wound is closed, the last bit of your energy spent, you lay back on the ground beside Clarke, lightheaded from radiation, blood loss, and pain. And as unconsciousness creeps up on you slowly, reaching out to drag you under, you look up at the ceiling, imagining the sky above, the Ark floating across it. Just as the darkness starts to take you, you whisper, “In this lifetime, and in the next.”

Somewhere in the sky, swimming amongst the stars, Bellamy Blake stands in the viewing window of the Ark, staring down at the Earth below, covered in a toxic death wave. Tears fall down his face, thinking of the love of his life, swallowed whole by radiation, and he chokes out, “Forever.”

-

next chapter

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Earth is Space Australia “The Invasion Continues

You all seemed to really enjoy the burg invasion, so here is some more. I hope you like it and I hope you have a great Monday.

“This planet…. Is a death trap. All our men are dead or…. Or dying…. Please we cannot survive any longer.”

The transmission ended rather abruptly, and the newly instated burg commander slammed his fist into the control panel, “What is happening!”

Around the room his counterparts scurried to avoid his anger.

“There have been reports of animal attacks, poisonings and…. Industrial accidents…. It seems that the human planet is far more dangerous than we originally anticipated. The entire thing is a deathtrap.”

Crew members cowered back against their station as a pincer slammed into the console, “They are squishy flesh-bags you should have no trouble taking them out!”

“The humans are not the problem, it is their planet. It is covered in boiling water, poisonous plants, angry wildlife, and apparently non-military have banded into pack-hunting structures in order to kill us, and it is working very effectively. We assumed that their civilian population would be largely inferior to their military counterparts, but it turns out that the non military humans are just more creative.”

The burg commander’s carapace chattered with his anger, “Then if we cannot win this war, we will hit them where it hurts.”

“Your glory?”

“Bring me the GPS coordinates.”

“The ones that we took from the destroyed human ship.”

The burg rubbed two of his upper legs together, “Exactly those.”

The burg second in command looked very confused, “But, your glory. These….. Are just locations on the planet related to specific human soldiers. Why would we need these?”

The burg commander tapped his leg against the console,

“Cut off the head, and the body will die.”

***

“This morning both local and worldwide governments have reported isolated pockets of alien ivation from all over the world, Let’s head to Jeff who has been traveling the eastern seaboard this morning with details.”

“Thank you Tom, and yes worldwide and local governments have issued a state of emergency. UNSC forces are being deployed as we speak to all locations around the globe where the Burg have been sited. However, this is no independence day Steve, this is something entirely different. While there have been reports about burg sightings, teams of them up to five or six strong in some cases, so far no one has been killed or injured, at least not by a burg anyway.”

“What do you mean Jeff?”

“Well isolated reports have reached us from all across the world of people who have accidentally run into burg remains rather than live soldiers.. Evidence suggests that Crocodiles, bears, wolves, poison ivy, army ants, hippos, kangaroos, and poisonous snakes have all taken up the cause of mother earth, who doesn’t seem particularly pleased about being invaded. And when the burg have made their way into populated city centers, well things haven’t gotten much better. Groups of drunken football fans in eastern Europe and the British isles have been seen roaming the streets of Berlin, Paris, London, Dublin, and Rome in packs . Vatican security forces were even dispatching a number of burg troops in the early hours of the morning.”

The TV screen cut to a grainy video of a dark street which showed a pack of riotous humans with bats, clubs, and broken chairs racing down the street after alien forms shouting insults to the fleeing backs.

The video cut.

“Reports in from Chicago have the local gangs, police forces, and a high school chess club teaming up and beating the invasion back with gunfire, improvised explosives, dogs,  and molotov cocktails of all things.”

“A truly shocking turn of events Jeff, but what are the UNSC saying about protecting us and our families during this time.”

“The UNSC is cautiously optimistic about the outcome of this event, Tom, but even so, they are advising that all Burg sightings be directed to the UNSC invasion hotline, with the number posted on screen right here, and available on all major mobile devices. Civilians are encouraged to avoid the burg if at all possible, though if those are not an option for either you or your family, the CDC has issued reports that human saliva can be fatal to the burg due to a certain enzyme which known to break down burg slime, and the potent cocktail of germs which follow. Your best weapon is to spit at them, barring that, than go right ahead and beat them to death with any available blunt object within reach, or sharp object. Shaolin warriors in china, Samurai enthusiasts in japan on Renaissance goers from america to europe are finding uses for swords and bladed weapons they have not been used for in the history of man. Attack dog saliva is just as useful as human saliva in this case so if Fido wants to get in on the action, your best bet is to let your pooch go ham and serve himself up a plate of space crab.”

“Thank you Jeff, and stay tuned where we will be receiving real time updates on the state of the invasion. But for now will your homeowners insurance cover alien invasions, what you need to know.” Martha, Jim, and Sunny sat on the couch staring at the TV.

Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Better stay inside, Sunny. I’m sure after that there might be some people to gungho to notice you’re a bit too pretty to be a burg.”

“Alien invasion.” Martha muttered, “Do you think we should get the guns ready, just in case.”

The man shrugged, “Couldn’t hurt. Come on Sunny, you know how to use a gun don’t you.”

“I am Chief weapons specialist.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Martha stood, “Grab my shotgun will you, dear, I’m going to go check on Adam.”

He nodded, letting her go. Sunny glanced over her shoulder catching a glimpse into the room through the door where Adam was lying out cold. She was pleased to see he was still asleep, and had slept through most of the night.

Hopefully this alien invasion thing would be over by the time he woke up.

***

Martha appeared at the top of the stairs into the basement, just as Jim and Sunny were coming up the stairs, a gun in each hand.

Martha took one from Sunny and walked into the kitchen, where the three of them sat at the table loading weapons. The doorbell going off nearly startled them out of their seats, but Jim went to go get it.

Sunny listened intently.

“Hey dad, did you see the news this morning?”

“Oh hey David, why don’t you come on inside, good morning to you Jordan, ah and my nephew.” Sunny lifted her head as David, Adam’s older brother, walked into the kitchen with his partner Jordan and their little boy bouncing happily in Jim’s arms.

Martha got up to hug her sun, and the other members of his family.

“Yes we heard about that.”

“Oh, hi sunny. Is Adam here?”

Martha had the group of them take their seats, “he’s resting. Apparently he went and saved the universe just recently, and we are trying to get him to rest. So don’t talk about the whole alien invasion thing too loudly.” 

“Oh, sorry.”

It was just at that moment that the absolutely deafening sound of engines rocked the house rumbling through the floors and shaking the very foundation.

“What in blue blazes.”

Outside the front window a chain of bikers and rednecks doubled up on old rickety dirt bikes raced past the window screaming and brandishing guns. The line seemed to go on forever until they vanished down the road.

“What in the hell.”

A groggy voice just behind them, “What’s going on?”

They all turned to find Adam leaning against the hallway wall rubbing his eyes and looking rather bleery. He was still very pale.

“Just the neighbor kids being louds, now, Go back to bed!”

Adam appeared too groggy to be skeptical and just staggered back to his room.

The group of them looked at each other nervously.

“Sunny and I will stay here and guard the house, you three mind going outside and checking out what is going on.”

***

They had come to cut off the head. All remaining burg forces had been rerouted from the rest of earth, and were now making their way towards the GPS coordinates. They knew they could not overtake earth, but if they couldn’t do that then they had vowed  to destroy the morale of humanity and take away it’s greatest nuisance.

Commander Adam vir would be dead before the sun sak below the horizon.

They entirely expected to show up in surprise, unannounced, but earth had different plans for them. In the space of ten minutes, two of their troops was hit by a minivan, and a third was attacked by a very angry small dog.

Walking along the fence line another burg ran into a very strange creature. It was very small, and sat atop a fence post, its golden eyes fixed on the burg as it lazily flicked it’s tail back and forth. Its ears were drawn back flat against it’s skull. He approached, and the creature hissed. He went to shoo it away with a hand.

And was immediately set upon by a very angry cat intent on ripping his eyes out of his face.

Their luck only worsened as engines rolled up the street, and a group of hungry looking bikers, teamed up with a very gleeful group of rednecks came charging down the street guns blazing. Motorcycles spun out, humans went flying.

Nearby, in the residential houses, families hid in their basements, while others made it to rooftops taking pot shots from their balconies, upper windows, or sometimes form the peak of their rooftops. 

One young man had been very industrious, unbeknownst to his parents, and began chucking lit molotov cocktails out the window of his bedroom. 

His older brother, also a chemistry geek upgraded that to homemade napalm.

From the other end of the street, the highschool girls softball team, and the girl scouts rolled up on hover boards and the backs of bicycles. The  softball team had a mounted automated pitching machine on the back of a wagon, and each girl was equipped with a bat, and a bucket full of balls.

The girl scouts had apparently been preparing since last night, and had water guns full of spit, which was pretty gross but rather effective.

The softball captain took up a mounted position at the back of the wagon, and began pouring the balls into the machine which fired out at about ninety miles an hour give or take five. One burg had his face collapsed in an unlucky turn of events.

Their invitation to the high school baseball team had not gone un-headed, but they had brought with them the chemistry club, and the robotics team, who had downgraded to potato guns for the moment.

The police rocked up a few moments later to create a blockade down the next street and coordinate so now humans got caught in the crossfire .

An unsupervised cheerleader, had made herself rather industrious  pulling up with a vest full of hair products, which people seemed skeptical about until she sprayed a burg right in the eyes, and turned another can into a flamethrower. A group of firemen showed up behind the police, blasting lines of Drev with high powered fire hose 

I took the burg longer than it should have to determine that being lumped into a group wasn’t the best idea and so broke off into smaller units managing to sneak in through the mele and into the neighborhood.

Their luck didn’t get much better.

One of them was nailed in the head by a dirty diaper dropped from an upper window.

Another found himself hounded by the cross country team, who were gleefully using mankind's god-given talent of distance running to run their prey into the ground, hunting like pack humans should before beating them to death with tire irons and crowbars.

Someone’s dad stood on his front porch armed with a fire extinguisher and his tool belt, while another mom had packed her kids neatly into their car seats and was roaming the streets with ACDC blaring through her open windows, mowing over any unsuspecting burg that happened to end up in the street while her teenage daughter offered free ammunition and snacks from the back window.

The UNSC showed up late to the party rolling into scene in jeeps with proper military equipment and drones

By this time the invasion force was dwindling, and only a single group had managed to make it through to their target.

A little house in the center of the suburbs unsuspecting in the warm overhead sun.

They crept forward a few of them moving around back while the others inched around front.

One slid up to the front door, reached out a hand and opened inward.

They were met by the barrel of a shotgun and a very angry blond woman, and her face twisted into a snarl, was the last thing he ever saw.

***

Adam was woken a second time by gunshots. Bolting upright in bed and nearly passing out from the vertigo. He blinked blearily past his fuzzy vision and out the door as his mother backed into the hallway. There was another loud blast and blue icor painted the wall before her.

She backed down the hallway, and he could hear the repeated pump of the shotgun as she backed down the hall.

The burg chasing after.

He tried getting to his feet, but ended up on the floor gripping the bedside table for support.

His mother’s hair flew wildly about her head

“YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY SUN.” Another mob of them was rounding the corner.. It looked like she was going to be over-run.

But a sudden swirl of blue overtook them, and Sunny charged into them dispatching at least four less than as many seconds. A whimper came from the corner, and he turned his head to find Jordan, wide-eyed standing in the corner blocking his son shakily holding a rifle in one hand.

Martha backed up until she was kneeling right before Adam blocking him with her body.

Sunny was backing down the hall now too as the Burg followed.

Jordan took a deep breath and peered around the doorframe, taking one or two shots as sunny flattened herself against the wall, before he ducked back into cover.

It wasn’t looking good.

Not at least until Jim, and David came bursting in one through the front and one through the back mowing down the remaining burg.

Adam found himself flat on his stomach pinned to the floor as his mother through herself over him blocking his body with hers despite how much smaller she was.

And then the gunfire stopped.

“Martha! Martha!”

“We’re ok Jim.”

“Jordan.”

“Right here.” The two of them ran into the room David scooping up Jordan and his son, while Jim ran to make sure his wife was ok.

Outside, boots clattered on the porch, and a group of UNSC soldiers burst into the house sweeping their guns over the blood painted walls. They stopped when they saw Adam sitting at the foot of his bed very much alive, 

“Delta to Alpha one the package is secure.”

Adam was thinking about asking his mother why no one had told him about the alien invasion.

But then he saw her cradling a shotgun covered in burg blood hair in a wild mess and decided that.

Maybe that was a topic for another time. 

[legobiwan]

What we need is an AU in which Obes giving illegal aid to Mandalore in The Lawless was uncovered and he is put on trial with Ahsoka during The Temple Bombing arc.

I was feeling prompt-y so here’s a ficlet as answer. I…uh…don’t know how I got from a trial to the ending of this, but perhaps I’m channeling my Broken Ashes energies…. :o

—–

“…and with these brazen acts of treason - to the Senate, to the Republic, and the Jedi Order - “ Mas Amedda paused, lifting his broad face to survey the packed hall, as if he were meeting the gaze of every sentient in the room. 

Every unscrupulous holojournalist hanging on tenterhooks, salivating over their next big byline, Anakin raged internally, his mechanical arm groaning as he gripped the armrests of his chair. Vultures. Every last being in this room circling above the remains of what had been Ahsoka’s glowing potential, her skill and intelligence wasting away under the bright lights of the Senate’s courthouse.

Anakin grit his teeth, pulling at the chair, which whined with the strain. The small noise earned him a fleeting glance of concern from Padmé, who was situated across from Anakin, the two of them holed up in the pod reserved for the accused’s defense team. A blatant show of bias on Anakin’s part, something the Council had vociferously warned him against lest they appear to be “in conflict with the rule of the Republic.”

He didn’t give a bantha’s ass about the Council right now. Especially when Obi-wan was nowhere to be seen. 

Coward, Anakin seethed. 

Mas Amedda unfurled an antiquated-looking flimsi, his eyebrows rising as he scanned the document. Something a little too close to satisfaction seeped through the Force, not only from him, but hundreds of other gleaming-eyed politicians who seemed a bit too enthusiastic about the possible execution of a Jedi. 

Of a child.

“ - the court finds the former Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano guilty on all counts, including premeditated murder, attempted murder, sedition against the Republic, and multiple acts of terrorism against the Republic. Sentencing will be held tomorrow at 0800 hours,” the long-horned Chagrian intoned.

Ahsoka’s shoulders hunched at the verdict, her gaze dropping to the floor as she allowed herself to be escorted away by two Republic guards, a steady hand on each of her upper arms, her wrists bound in Force-suppressing cuffs.

And that was it. No last-minute heroics, no rushing into battle just when things seemed lost, lightsabers blazing. Unlike the front, this had been an invisible war, one that had Anakin swiping at phantoms for hours in the dingy Coruscant underworld, to no avail. 

It was the Council’s fault, Anakin grit inwardly. It was Obi-wan’s fault, for letting - 

“And now we turn to the last trial of the day,” Mas Amedda spoke again, his expression having curled in confusion as he narrowed his eyes at the datapad in his hand. Anakin only then noticed that the Council hadn’t moved from their spots in the observatory area reserved for Jedi and another visiting dignitaries. that if anything, they had gone even more rigid.. 

Something twinged in the Force, Anakin’s precognition hiccuping over the unexpected bump, his ire at the Council temporarily forgotten. What in the Nine Corellian Hells was going on -

Mas Amedda gestured at the stenographer droid, who pushed a button on its chest. “Trial number oh-eight-seven-four,” it buzzed in the same bored monotony of every civil servant Anakin had ever had to deal with on Coruscant. “The Galactic Republic and the Grand Army of the Republic versus Obi-wan Kenobi.”

An electric jolt surged through Anakin’s body and in half-a-second, he was on his feet, hands clasped on the balcony railing, his torso bent over the side of the pod as Obi-wan - Obi-wan, Anakin gaped, trying to wrap brain around this new reality - was marched to the same defense pedestal Ahsoka had occupied only moments before. Unlike Ahsoka, Obi-wan radiated his usual unperturbed calm, his posture perfectly erect, features settled into polite anticipation - the same look he had on any number of diplomatic encounters, the same infuriating equilibrium he exhibited whenever Anakin directed his not-so-rare anger in his direction.

Anakin’s mind whirred like an out-of-control astromech motor. 

“What the kriff, Padmé?” he hissed at his wife.

Padmé turned to him in wide-eyed horror. “I…I don’t know, Ani. This wasn’t announced on the Senate schedule,” she whispered back, unable to take peel her gaze from the incongruous image of Obi-wan - Jedi Council member, High General of the Republic - on trial like a common criminal.

As with Ahsoka, Admiral Tarkin stepped forward to represent the prosecution. 

“General,” the Admiral sneered, making no attempt to hide his contempt for the Jedi Master. “Or should I say, former General Kenobi. You are brought here today to answer to charges of rendering illegal aid to the planet Mandalore, a unilateral action not approved by the Jedi Council, Grand Army of the Republic, or the Senate, as dictated by military, civilian, and Jedi law. Furthermore, you stand accused of inciting war on said neutral planet as an agent of the Republic, subverting longstanding Republic law and intergovernmental treaties, an abuse of your office as both a High General and Jedi Council member, all charges that can and will be classified as treason against the Republic. Do you understand these charges?”

“Perfectly,” Obi-wan answered, his familiar tenor resonating throughout every corner of the courtroom, which buzzed with the revelation of this new information. Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin watched the press box explode into a flurry of activity. Apparently, they hadn’t known about this, either.

Mandalore. Anakin raced to connect any of the events of the past few weeks. It all seemed so long ago, with the bombing of the Temple, Ahsoka’s arrest and escape, and finally, her expulsion from the Order, the horrible chain of disasters taking precedence in his mind, an immoveable monolith of anger and fear that clouded his memory of almost anything else that had occurred in the past few months, forget the past few weeks.

And yet…Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, reaching to the Force, concentrating. Obi-wan had asked to borrow the Twilight, as a personal favor. Anakin had thought the request odd at the time - Obi-wan’s dislike of flying was only outstripped by his blatant disapproval of a vessel he had once called “a durasteel coffin with wings.” And Obi-wan himself had been…on edge, when he made the request, his Force presence a sharp blade, his thoughts uncharacteristically drifting from the conversation he was having with his former Padawan. At the time, Anakin had attributed it to stress - the war was, after all, taking a large piece out of all of them and Anakin had learned long ago that asking about it would only be met with all the aggravating, fluid evasion that had earned Obi-wan the moniker of “The Negotiator.” 

Anakin hadn’t thought much else about it. After all, he had a rare multiday furlough on Coruscant, a break which somehow managed to coincide with Padmé’s increasing travel schedule, and one he intended to put to very good use. Even Obi-wan’s strange return to the Temple - in civilian clothes, bulky canvas bag hung over his shoulder, eyes shadowed with fatigue - hadn’t done much to darken Anakin’s good mood. In fact, he had almost forgotten he had lent Obi-wan the ship until he found an envelope of credits and a terse apology in Obi-wan’s slanted, neat handwriting waiting on the seat of his Jedi starcraft. 

Why Obi-wan hadn’t left the envelope in Anakin’s quarters was not a question he had wanted to ponder at the time. 

Could that have been it? He had heard the reports of civil unrest on Mandalore, of a military coup by dark agents of multiple criminal organizations. Had heard the whispers of the assassination of the Duchess, a topic Anakin had no intention of raising with Obi-wan unless the other man did so first. 

It all seemed too strange to be real. 

“And former General Kenobi,” Tarkin’s posh, nasal voice wrenched Anakin back to reality. “Do you deny that two weeks’ previous, you took the Republic-registered shuttle Twilight and traveled to Mandalore system after receiving a transmission from the Duchess Satine Kryze?”

“I do not,” Obi-wan answered evenly.

Anakin’s eyebrows shot upwards. That explained where the Twilight went.

“And do you deny,” Tarkin continued, a hard, greedy glint in his eye,”that you traveled to Mandalore with the sole purpose of rendering aid to a neutral government, without the approval of the Senate, the Jedi Council, or the Grand Army of the Republic, that your actions - or lack thereof - spurred a civil conflict leading to the death of the Duchess Kyrze under mysterious circumstances, and that you willingly undermined Republic law in order to further your own agenda and possibly the agenda of the Jedi Council?”

Obi-wan was silent for a moment, his Force presence nearly invisible to Anakin, as if it had been swallowed by a black hole. When he spoke again, his voice exhibited the slightest amount of strain. 

“As to the first accusations - no, those events occurred more or less as outlined. I received a transmission from the Duchess Kryze requesting my help as the city of Sundari was under attack. Knowing the Senate would not approve such interference by the GAR, I traveled to Mandalore on my own to attempt to diffuse the situation.” Obi-wan paused, his eyebrows furrowing. “There were…circumstances I was not prepared for when I arrived. You are correct that the Duchess was killed and a civil war now rages on-planet.”

What? Anakin couldn’t help his mouth from dropping. Obi-wan? His Obi-wan? Disobeying the Council and the Republic? A quick glance at the Jedi Council didn’t tell him anything - in face, they looked even more dour now than they had during Ahsoka’s trial.

“As to the second point - “ Obi-wan continued, a bit too cheerfully. “I suppose it could be seen that way, from a certain point of view. I do not deny my guilt in this matter, if that is what you are hoping for, Admiral. In fact, I am far more guilty of treason than Ahsoka Tano, and would gladly exchange my sentence for hers.”

“We are not here to compare the building crimes of the Jedi, Master Kenobi!” Tarkin bit. “We are here to establish your guilt, which you seem to be all too happy to corroborate, so with the permission of the Chancellor, I move to proceed directly to sentencing - “

“My dear Admiral,” Obi-wan interrupted, an unfamiliar, feral grin playing on his features. Anakin’s face furrowed in confusion even as the Force flicked its tail dangerously. What are you doing, Obi-wan? 

“My conviction is all but assured. While the Council has graciously agreed to only suspend my seat and Master title until the outcome of this trial, I imagine my time in the Jedi Order is now reaching its end. Unfortunately for you, I have no desire nor intention to see my supposed crimes paid for, at least not yet.”

Tarkin frowned, his fist clenching. “You act in direct opposition to the Senate, the military law, Master Kenobi. And now you threaten to undermine the very fabric of our judicial system, threaten a coup by the Jedi - “

Obi-wan leveled a glare at Tarkin, the intensity of the stare raw enough to turn Anakin’s stomach. Something was really wrong here, something with Obi-wan had changed and he didn’t know what to do.

“The Jedi have no intention of overthrowing the government, Admiral. Myself, on the other hand - “ Obi-wan shrugged. “Let’s just say I have other plans.”

That did catch the attention of the Council as several members stood, hands straying to their weapons. Even the frenzied activity of the press box came to a halt, flimsis slipping off tall stacks, fluttering to the ground as several jaws dropped in astonishment.

Tarkin chuckled, unfazed by Obi-wan’s bizarre behavior. Perhaps he had expected the Jedi Master to act this way, expected all Council members to secretly harbor these desires. Anakin could only watch in horror as the scene unfolded, Padmé having come to his side, her hand on top of his.

“What’s happening, Ani?” she whispered. 

Anakin could only shake his head.

“You do realize, Master Kenobi, you are in no position to make such threats. And that any plans you have made will be ruthlessly crushed, and by now your own execution is all but guaranteed.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Obi-wan answered, stepping on the railing of the podium with one swift movement, catching Anakin’s eye for the briefest of moments - apology, promise, and something else all flashing across their bond in an instant before Obi-wan stepped of the platform and plummeted into the deep chasm of the courtroom. 

The room exploded in chaos, several delegations of Senators screaming in high-pitched ululations, Tarkin and the other military leaders barking out orders, the Council racing from their podium, Mace Windu and Kit Fisto leaping themselves over the barricade to follow Obi-wan, who was assuredly not dead.

Not dead, Anakin thought, falling into his seat, shock numbing the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. 

Not dead. 

The Jedi Master and General were dead, executed by Tarkin’s words and Obi-wan’s own confession in front of a hundred holocameras. The man remained, however, most likely already beating a path to the Coruscant underworld, perhaps going as far as the next star system, if he planned it right. Which, knowing Obi-wan, he likely did, to the millimeter. Maybe he’ll even pick up Ahsoka on the way, the bright, strange idea streaked across the muddled static of Anakin’s confusion.

Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi was dead. 

But who would rise in his place?

[masterjedilenawrites]

The Helmeted Hunter: Chapter 25

Boba Fett x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Mention of injuries

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

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Chapter 25: The Exchange

The Slave I shot out of hyperspace, emerging just in front of a massive, triangular ship. Coming out of hyperspeed was always jarring, but this time it especially made your stomach leap into your throat. The might of the Empire could not be easily overlooked with such a vessel; it was no wonder they had been able to take over your planet.

"Ready?"

Boba had his armor and helmet back on, his voice coming through filtered and distant. He reached out and squeezed your hand, a reassuring gesture, but you could tell he was also steeling himself for the task at hand. Retreating back into his armor, becoming once more the aloof bounty hunter the rest of the galaxy knew him as. You wished you had some armor of your own to hide behind. Though you were ready and eager, you were also, quite frankly, scared.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you exhaled.

He let his hand linger on your yours with an intimacy that had only grown more comfortable between you in recent days. You would certainly miss it, but the hope of being with him once more, free and secure, would help keep you going.

"I'll meet you down below," he said, reluctantly letting go to steer the ship. The Empire was growing ever closer, looming in front of you, threatening to swallow you up. You didn't want to dwell, so you made your way out of the cockpit.

Breathe in, breathe out. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on that simple task for the next few minutes. Soon you felt the Slave I's inner gravity shifting as it laid itself down to land. When that familiar landing jolt came, you opened your eyes, staring at the ramp door with an odd mixture of dread and hope. Just outside were answers, but would they be satisfying? You had once been terrified of reaching this part, where Boba would hand you over to claim your bounty. You were still scared now the moment had come, just for different reasons.

Before your mind could spiral helplessly away, Boba clambered down beside you and began putting the old shackles on your wrists. They hurt now more than ever. Not only was there an inner soreness that would take many more weeks to heal, but you'd also had to cut back into one of the scars to implant a tracker. Boba had a personal rule against tracking devices, claiming such signals could be tracked both ways and he was too clever to ever compromise his own location. But an exception had been made for you; the risk of you disappearing was too great.

You only briefly took note of how easily you two had slipped back into old roles, he in his bounty hunting gear and you in your prisoner chains. It seemed like a lifetime ago when you'd last been like this. But then he tapped your chin gently, reminding you how far you'd truly come from being those people.

"Remember the plan," he said softly. "And good luck."

"See you soon," you whispered.

The ramp began to lower, letting in bright, florescent light. You were in a hangar much larger than the one on Crimson Dawn's ship. A row of stormtroopers were lined up on either side, and in the middle waiting was the Imperial Commander you'd once encountered, Orson Krennic.

Boba grabbed your upper arm roughly and pulled you after him down the ramp. You could see in your periphery he had his gun out, laying casually against his chest but pointed in your direction. You tried to keep your head down as he led you along, but it was difficult not to let your gaze wander around the vast room in curiosity.

"Boba Fett," said Krennic as you approached. He sounded even more condescending than he had before. "I dare say, I was surprised to receive your transmission this morning. Did your mysterious other deal fall through?"

Boba stopped a few feet short of the Commander, still firmly holding onto you. "Too much trouble," was all he said.

Krennic chuckled. "So it would seem. Yes, I've heard all about your entanglements with Crimson Dawn. Fighting like children over this bounty. Though I had hoped you'd be the one to eventually bring her in. I never did like Vos, the arrogant prick."

There was silence and Krennic seemed annoyed that Boba didn't want to comment and keep the conversation going. He stepped forward, but Boba jerked you closer toward him, the barrel of his gun digging into your shoulder.

"Payment first," he stated.

Krennic tut-ed and motioned to a droid standing off the side. It plodded over, carrying a case, which it opened to show Boba.

"One million, divided between Imperial credits and peggats, per your request."

Boba nodded at the droid, satisfied with the currency. He pushed you forward slightly, making room to grab the case. "She's all yours."

"Pleasure doing business with you, Fett," Krennic drawled.

A pair of stormtroopers came up on either side of you as Boba went back to the Slave I. In a few moments, the ship was flying out of the hangar, back out amongst the stars. You turned in time to watch it disappear into hyperspace.

And just like that, he was gone.

This was the part of the plan that had taken the longest to sort out; you two had stayed up late several nights arguing back and forth how to best handle it. The Empire couldn't have any suspicion that Boba would still be invested in you after the handoff, and yet, he hated the idea of having to return later to break you out, or track you if they chose to take you elsewhere. Each moment you were with them brought the threat of harm, and who knew if he could reach you in time?

One of the stormtroopers started removing your shackles, much to your surprise. Krennic looked over at you with a sort of smug grin that made you sense he knew exactly what you wanted to know but was having too much fun to tell you.

"Trouble, trouble," he said, coming closer. "That's all I've heard about you, young lady. I was beginning to think it wasn't worth it for us, either. But patience always wins out in the end. Doesn't it?"

He took your hands in his, examining the scars and scabs along your wrists. He squinted up at your face, assessing what other signs of mistreatment might be there. You'd had time to heal, sure, but you still hadn't properly showered, and there had been many sleepless nights while you fretted over plans with Boba. You knew it was enough to fool him into thinking you'd been a prisoner all along.

"Take her for inspection," he finally said, gesturing at the soldiers next to you. "Bring her to my office when you're done."

The inspection wasn't as invasive as you'd feared. In fact, it was more refreshing than anything. You were made to disrobe by a protocol droid before being sent through a quick rinse of soap and water. New clothes were given to you, a stiff blue jumpsuit with an Imperial logo stitched on the front, and the droid even wrapped some bandaging around the one wrist you'd re-aggravated for the tracker. There was another tracker, inside the former case of your music player that you'd put in your back pocket. The device was predictably discovered by the droid, who then passed it along to the stormtrooper that came to collect you.

Krennic welcomed you into his office, which looked more like a conference room, with a long table extending down the middle, windowless walls with florescent lighting emitting from along its border, and a small bar area in one corner where Krennic was presently pouring a drink. The stormtrooper handed him your music player before exiting, leaving you to stand awkwardly by yourself.

"Sit." It was more of an invitation than command. Krennic set his drink down and pulled out a chair, and that's when you noticed the plates of food in front of his seat and the one he was offering you.

You slowly lowered yourself in the chair, staring at him, not sure what to make of all this. You'd rehearsed over and over in your head all the things you wanted to say in this moment, but now you were at a loss. Was this a show, meant to give you a false sense of security? Or did the Empire want you for other reasons, not to be a prisoner, but something else?

You cleared your throat and forced out some questions. "So... what exactly do you want with me? Why the high bounty?"

Krennic chuckled as he looked at you over the rim of his glass. "Oh, you'll see soon enough."

See? What could he possibly have to show you?

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 9, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

It appears the Senate is on track to pass the bipartisan $1 trillion “hard” infrastructure package as early as tomorrow morning.  

As soon as it passes, Democrats will turn to the $3.5 trillion bill, a sweeping measure that would modernize the nation’s approach to infrastructure by including human infrastructure as well as the older “hard” projects. It establishes universal pre-kindergarten for 3- and 4-year-olds, cuts taxes for families with children, makes community college tuition free for two years, and invests in public universities.

It invests in housing, invests in job training, strengthens supply chains, provides green cards to immigrant workers, and protects the borders with new technologies. It expands the Affordable Care Act, invests in home and community-based health care, and reduces the cost of prescription drugs.

It also invests significantly in measures to combat climate change. Focusing on clean electricity, it cuts emissions through tax incentives, polluter fees, and home electrification projects, and replaces  federal vehicles with electric ones.

The bill calls for funding these measures with higher taxes on corporations.

The measure will move forward as a budget resolution that simply says how much money the government expects to need next year, and from 2023 to 2031. Once it passes, the various committees will hammer out exactly how much money should go where, and Congress will then hammer that into some form of an agreement.

Once a measure is finalized, the Senate will try to pass the bill through the process of budget reconciliation, which cannot be filibustered, meaning that it can pass with a simple majority.

If, indeed, President Joe Biden manages to pass both a bipartisan bill that pleases some Republicans and the reconciliation bill that pleases progressive Democrats, it will be an astonishing accomplishment.

One thing that is not in the larger bill is an increase to the debt limit, which will be imperative before October. Raising the debt limit is necessary because Congress has already appropriated money that the Treasury does not have, so it will have to borrow to meet existing obligations.

Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell has threatened that neither he nor any other Republican will lift the debt limit and that Democrats must do it alone. But Democrats are not willing to raise it themselves, when it was the Republicans who ran up the debt during Trump’s term, adding $7 trillion to the debt while they slashed corporate taxes. ″The vast majority of the debt subject to the debt limit was accrued before the administration taking office,” Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen told Congress on Monday. “This is a shared responsibility, and I urge Congress to come together on a bipartisan basis as it has in the past to protect the full faith and credit of the United States.”

The large infrastructure package will reshape American society to invest in ordinary Americans and to get the nation on track to face a future that does not center around fossil fuels. That such an investment is on the table right now seems like good timing, since today, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) of the United Nations released the most thorough report on climate ever compiled, and the conclusions are a “code red for humanity,” according to United Nations secretary-general Antonio Guterres. The report is based on more than 14,000 studies and is endorsed by 195 governments.

It warns that we have waited too long to reduce our use of fossil fuels, guaranteeing that the globe will continue to warm for at least the next 30 years even if we address climate change immediately. This will mean more extreme weather: fires—like the Dixie fire currently raging in Northern California, which is the largest in the state’s history—floods, disease, extinctions, and social conflict. If we address the issue, though, there is still a window in which we could mitigate changes that are even more dire.

The Republicans object to the larger infrastructure bill because it uses the government to invest in the economy, which will cost tax dollars. For forty years, Republicans have called for turning the economy over to private interests and for tax cuts to free up capital for investment, which they argued would make the economy grow. But those policies have sparked discontent as they concentrated wealth upward and ran up huge deficits and debt.

Now, as Democrats want to go back to the sort of system that created our booming post–World War II economy by stopping the concentration of wealth upward and investing in infrastructure, Republicans are complaining that the cost will hobble the nation. They are threatening to refuse to raise the debt ceiling, although as Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen pointed out, Congress assumed the vast majority of the debt that requires a higher limit before President Joe Biden took office.

Meanwhile, Republican policies are not looking very good right now, as Republican governors have stood staunchly against combatting Covid-19 with either masks or vaccines. The virus is now surging again in the U.S., which currently has 17% of the world’s new infections despite having the best vaccine supply. The spike is especially obvious among children, who make up 20% of the nation's new cases, apparently becoming infected in homes where adults are not vaccinated. On ABC, Dr. Mark Kline, Physician In Chief at Children’s Hospital New Orleans, said: “We are hospitalizing record numbers of children. Half of the children in our hospital today are under two years of age, and most of the others are between 5 and 10 years of age.”

Cases continue to rise in Florida and Texas, where governors Ron DeSantis and Greg Abbott have prohibited mask mandates. In Florida, journalist Katherine G. Hobbs reports: “Volusia County and Advent Health Orlando are finalizing the purchase of fleets of refrigerated mobile morgues amid Florida's COVID surge.” In Texas, Abbott today called on Texas hospitals to postpone elective procedures in order to clear more beds for Covid patients. The state’s health department is trying to find more health care workers to come to the state to help out.

Nonetheless, DeSantis and Abbott refuse to modify their ban on mask mandates, clearly seeing a strong stand on this issue as a political statement that they believe will win them Republican voters. But as infections and deaths, especially among children, rise, the wisdom of this move is not clear.

Private companies, courts, and schools are all challenging the governors’ edict. A federal judge has overruled Florida’s prohibition on private companies from asking about vaccine status, a rule challenged by cruise ship lines, who would have faced millions of dollars in fines, although vaccine requirements are standard in other ports they visit. DeSantis says he will appeal.

In Arkansas, where only 37% of the state’s population is vaccinated, two challenges to the state’s ban on mask mandates led a judge on Friday to block the ban temporarily. One of the challenges was brought by a school where more than 900 students and staff are quarantining because of a coronavirus outbreak. In Texas, Austin, Houston, and Dallas Independent School Districts are instituting mask mandates in defiance of Abbott’s executive order.

In Florida, the Miami-Dade school system is the fourth largest school district in the nation. When Superintendent Alberto Carvalho made it clear that he will follow the guidance of public health experts and doctors, DeSantis threatened to withhold the salaries of any superintendents or school board members who defy his executive order prohibiting mask mandates.

Carvalho issued a statement saying “At no point shall I allow my decision to be influenced by a threat to my paycheck; a small price to pay considering the gravity of this issue and the potential impact to the health and well-being of our students and dedicated employees.”

—-

Notes:

Vincent Rajkumar @VincentRKUSA with the best vaccine supply has now 17% of the worlds daily new COVID cases. In number of cases per day we are in a different level and trajectory than every other country in the world. Again. 778 Retweets1,324 Likes

August 8th 2021

Kyle Griffin @kylegriffin1Home Depot is requiring all workers to wear masks in all stores, regardless of vaccination status or the transmission risks of the area.6,278 Retweets56,706 Likes

August 9th 2021

https://abcnews.go.com/Health/wireStory/arkansas-lawmakers-adjourn-leave-mask-mandate-ban-intact-79314538

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/kids-sick-covid-are-filling-children-s-hospitals-areas-seeing-n1276238

https://thehill.com/homenews/state-watch/566943-dixie-fire-becomes-largest-in-california-history

​​

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/08/09/climate/climate-change-report-ipcc-un.html

https://www.cbsnews.com/video/children-make-up-20-percent-of-all-new-covid-cases-across-the-us/

Greg Sargent @ThePlumLineGSThe reconciliation budget resolution is out. Here are the toplines: 404 Retweets924 Likes

August 9th 2021

/photo/1

​​

Kyle Griffin @kylegriffin1Dr. Mark Kline, Physician In Chief at the Children’s Hospital New Orleans, on ABC: "We are hospitalizing record numbers of children. Half of the children in our hospital today are under two years of age, and most of the others are between 5 and 10 years of age."4,721 Retweets9,175 Likes

August 9th 2021

https://www.washingtonpost.com/travel/2021/08/09/desantis-passport-ban-norwegian-cruise/

https://apnews.com/article/coronavirus-vaccine-us-military-requirement-pentagon-3975940c732352f72e41f6e34a3a2669

https://apnews.com/article/coronavirus-vaccine-us-military-requirement-pentagon-3975940c732352f72e41f6e34a3a2669

https://miami.cbslocal.com/2021/08/09/ron-desantis-state-education-board-withhold-salaries-superintendents-school-board-members-mask-mandates/

Katherine G. Hobbs (she/her) @KatherineGHobbsBREAKING: Both Volusia County and Advent Health Orlando are finalizing the purchase of fleets of refrigerated mobile morgues amid Florida's COVID surge, a rep from Mopec confirms @WJCTNews691 Retweets770 Likes

August 9th 2021

https://www.politico.com/news/2021/08/09/abbott-texas-hospitals-covid-503066

https://www.cnn.com/2021/08/09/politics/read-senate-resolution-fiscal-year-2022/index.html

https://www.cnn.com/2021/08/09/politics/democrats-budget-resolution-debt-ceiling/index.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/us-policy/2021/08/09/treasury-yellen-debt-ceiling/

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/08/09/us/politics/infrastructure-senate-biden.html

https://www.cbsnews.com/video/miami-dade-superintendent-says-mask-mandate-bans-deeply-influenced-by-politics/#x

https://www.kxan.com/news/education/set-for-school/austin-isd-board-set-to-discuss-covid-19-safety-protocols-before-students-head-back-to-class/

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[rinari7]

@slytherintothedragonsden​ and @ciara-jane​ Many many thanks for the topic suggestion! And I have other reports I’ll have to do, so I’m saving the other topics away as well for those! :3

All right, buckle up folks! By popular demand, we're talking about bicycle gears!

This will probably be more information than any average consumer wants or needs to know, but I had to make it report length, so my apologies! But I'll try to be concise, and I'll do my best to keep the maths to a minimum for those of you sensitive to such things. ;)

The term "gear" or “speed” in this particular context refers to a particular arrangement of toothed wheels, disks, or shafts that translates torque generated by either a motor, someone’s pedaling, or a combination of both, into the physical speed of the bike on the path. Put more simply, a “gear” is a particular “translation” of turns of the crank arms to turns of the back wheel.

So people have more of an idea of precisely what I’m referring to, here on a modern utility/mountain bike chain drivetrain and gear setup:

1. crank arm

2. chainrings

3. front derailleur

4. chain

5. rear sprockets (together also called a cassette, that are attached to the hub of the rear wheel and drive it)

6. rear derailleur

The first bikes only had one “gear” — the pedals and crank arms were affixed directly to the wheel hub. One crank arm revolution equals one wheel turn, one wheel circumference traveled. Incidentally, this is also why penny farthings became a Thing, as ridiculous as they looked and as dangerous as they were — people wanted to get farther with one crank arm revolution, and they were only really limited by the length of their legs and from what height they were willing to risk falling.

Still, gear-less bikes were less than ideal. Issues getting up a hill? Too bad, get stronk. Want to go faster? Pedal faster, lazybones. :P

For the people with a little more common sense or a healthy fear of heights, the “Safety” bicycle (coming to stores near? you in 1886!) got rid of such stupid things as an enormous front wheel, and sat the rider much closer to the ground. More importantly for the development of our modern bicycle transmission, it sat the rider in between the two wheels and used a chain to transfer torque from the pedals to the rear drive wheel.

(For the less physically gifted… physics-ly gifted? torque is force applied over a distance that makes something turn. However, distinguishing between torque and force is more an issue of pedantry and math-ish nerdery than any real key to understanding.)

In the early days, some people came up with the bright idea of putting two different sized cogs or sprockets on the opposite sides of the wheel. Two gears! Too bad you had to stop, get off, remove the rear wheel to flip it around, secure it again, and then get going again in your new gear. This only really became a Thing in racing, where the difference in speed mattered enough to justify that whole song-and-dance.

How does a different-sized rear sprocket make a difference in speed? I’m so glad you asked! (Warning: maths ahead, but I’ll try to make it painless.)

Y’all remember levers, right? (Excuse the terrible Microsoft Paint drawings I made at 11 at night, please.)

You can apply less force at the end of a longer “lever” and have the same effect as if you’d applied more force to a shorter lever. Mathematically, the equation is: F1 x l1 = F2 x l2.

(In the diagrams, F1 is the force of gravity pulling the box down, and F2 is the force exerted by the person, l1 the blue length and l2 the red length. They were originally color-coded like most of the bolded stuff but tumblr didn’t feel like working with me there.)

Now let’s take a look at the rear (driving) wheel of a bicycle. (Proportions exaggerated.)

Y’all see it too, right? Like, uh, either way the torque the chain applies to the sprocket (the blue side of the lever) is on the less advantageous side of the equation (smaller than red), but the larger gear offers a less-bad ratio.

So, why would anyone use a smaller gear? More force actually applied to the wheel on the road is better, right?

Not necessarily. If you’re moving forwards at a good clip, you’re good. If you apply too much force, there’s also the risk of the wheel slipping and losing traction on the road.

Also, I picked the icons I did for a reason. Notice how the larger gear has more teeth? That means it takes a longer length of chain to tug the larger gear around one complete revolution.

What if your chainring has only half as many teeth as your rear sprocket? The teeth are the same distance apart, same chain. That means you have to complete two revolutions of the crank arm to move one rear-wheel-circumference forwards.

There’s an equation for this, too: transmission ratio i = teeth of chainring ÷ teeth of rear sprocket = radius of chainring ÷ radius of rear sprocket = rotations of rear sprocket ÷ rotations of chainring. Any of those three possibilities will get you the same answer.

Note here that the lever principle applies to the pedal and chainrings as well.

In this case, a smaller chainring works in our favor, transferring more torque to the chain and thus to the rear wheel, but less speed.

If we put both of these aspects together, we have the combination small chainring + large rear sprocket giving us the maximum transmission of force from pedals to the rear wheel, but not much forwards speed. Conversely, the combination large chainring + small rear sprocket gives us a lot of forwards speed, but not much force — if we hit a hill we’re going to have a hard time.

Practically speaking: most bikes have two or three chainrings (controlled by the left gear shifter) and between 6 and 10 rear sprockets, though the trend is shifting back to one chainring and many rear sprockets in the super-high-end systems. (Also, with the advent of pedelecs and electric auxiliary motors, most people are now just switching the motor’s boost level instead of shifting chainrings).

To make things more concrete: my bicycle has 8 rear sprockets and 3 chainrings, in bike lingo 3 x 8 gears or speeds. I could say 24-speed, technically, but realistically there’s some overlap in there between different sprocket-chainring combinations, and some combinations I would realistically never use, like small chainring + small rear sprocket, or large chainring + large rear sprocket (not to mention that those kinds of extreme gear combinations can exacerbate chain wear).

On your gear shifters, the thing to remember is: if pedaling is difficult, shift down, to the lower numbers on the left and right displays. The indexing (assigned numbers to cogs) is nicely uncomplicated that way.

I’ve sprung forwards a bit historically, but hopefully that answers the questions of “what even are bike speeds and what do these wizard numbers mean?”

I’ll cut the history and rambling a bit short at this point: in 1930 the predecessor of modern chain-driven gearing systems, the Vittoria Margherita, was invented, and in the 1950s the basic design of modern derailleurs and chain gearing systems popped up, and has stuck around ever since. Shimano did a thing in the 1980s, designing hubs, cassette, pedals, chainrings, front and rear derailleurs, and most components of the drivetrain to specifically work best with the whole set of their parts, which… uh. Like, good that they offer a well-performing, smoothly-designed system, but locking you into buying only their stuff if you want your thing to work right? Not a huge fan. (The corporate side of bikes is. Uh. A whole thing. A whole-ass other ramble.) And now there’s electronic and wirelessly controlled gear shifters, but that’s most of the major developments in gear shifting.

The first widely available transmission system that could be operated without, uhhh, stopping and taking your bike partially apart, was actually an internal gear hub, invented by William Reilly in 1898. It had two (2) different settings. Eventually someone invented the luxury of three-speed hubs!

Internal gear hubs have a different construction, but the principle of the gears are the same: different-sized cogs translate the torque of the chain into more wheel rotations or more applied force to help you get up that damn hill. Nowadays there’s even 14-speed internal hub gears, and an interesting gearbox concept (Pinion is the company) that does the whole translating-through-gears at the bottom bracket and crank arm, entirely between the pedal and chain, instead of between chain and drive wheel.

There’s actually an interesting debate to be had on chain gears versus internal hub gears — they’re both good for different things. Vaguely, internal hub gears are less maintenance-intensive, since most of the mechanism is protected from the elements, but they’re heavier (not the choice of racers). Though you can shift gears at a standstill, you can’t shift if you’re putting much force in the pedals and getting the rear wheel out is a bit more complicated with a hub gear system, if you have a flat. Chain gearing systems are the choice of competitive bikers, generally more efficient at transferring power and offering a broader range of gears.

Hopefully I haven’t offered too much information, or an overwhelming amount. If y’all want clarification on anything, just poke me. :3

Sources:

- I have a 500+ page textbook on all things bicycles. “Fachkunde Fahrradtechnik,” 7th Edition, from the publisher Europa-Lehrmittel if y’all wanna look it up

- Seriously, I’ve been learning this stuff for like 9 months at this point. Theoretically and practically. And I’ll be taking a whole-ass apprenticeship midterm next month. At some point your own education should count for something.

- Also, simple physics.

- A few Wikipedia pages for random references, in particular pertaining to the history of hub gears (and “oh shit what is the thing called in English” moments).

- https://evelo.com/pages/history-of-the-bicycle for a few historical tidbits

- https://bikeradar.com/features/when-were-bicycle-gears-invented/ for more histoical tidbits

- Pictures and icons from Wikimedia, specifically (x) (x) (x) (x), commentary and colorful drawings by me

[realbeeing]

ancestral trauma & healing

I’ve recently come to understand what it means to honor my ancestors. I had heard mystics and shamans talk about how we can either relate to our ancestors in an unhealthy way— by holding onto their pain and perpetuating it unconsciously— or in a healthy way, by doing our best to work through the dysfunctions they passed on to us, starting to identify the pain as not solely our own but part of a chain of experience from which now another decision can be made. Breaking the cycle, in other words. 

Lately I started to feel a lot about my Jewish heritage, especially because I got a DNA test where it was confirmed I am pretty much of three-quarters Ashkenazi Jewish descent. I already knew my father’s family and maternal grandmother’s family came from that tribe so it was not a huge surprise, but with the company I bought the test from, they reveal not just that you are of Ashkenazi descent but what that particular descent really means: usually being one-half to two-thirds Arab genetics with the other part Southern European genetics, often Italian. In my case, I learned I had about a third Arab and Near-East origins and another third Italian. (My levels were lower because I have one non-Jewish, Irish grandparent).

Going through my results brought to light a new realization for me about the story of my ancestors. The Jewish people had moved around a lot: from the Middle East, to the Roman Empire, to the German kingdom and then further into Eastern Europe. And then many of them left Europe entirely to come to the United States or to Israel, havens for the Jewish population. For some reason I had never really thought about what it took for my ancestors— really just my great grandparents — to come all the way to America  It was not like they just decided one day to to travel to a new continent for a vacation. Nowadays it’s hard to understand the scope of such travel before the time of cheap and abundant flights and a more globalized culture. I can’t imagine what it was like to uproot yourself from your homeland and go to a place where your familiar language wasn’t spoken, where the culture was totally different. No, they must have come here out of necessity. My family has kept scant records though so I can only speculate. 

I have read a lot about anti-semitism recently and the pogroms that occurred in Eastern Europe, where my ancestors were living. The Jews were always on the run, a persecuted people, for whatever reason that is still mysterious to me. Were we victims? Were we perpetuating this cycle ourselves from a victim complex? I wasn’t there to know. 

Jews have learned to make a home in many places. I feel that in myself in my need to travel and the desire I’ve had since being a child of running away, being a nomad, going to an unknown land. Yet what is my enjoyment was their serious task. In my youthful seeking phase I contacted a bunch of different eclectic religious paths, settling into the Hare Krishna way for a couple of years in Peru as well as going into strange rabbit holes about all sorts of new age topics such as aliens and lost civilizations. In this period, I hardly thought about Judaism at all, nor my ancestors. I was convinced the body is just a phantasm, that we are soul first and thus that my true ancestry was first cosmic and that any earthly ties were not a subject for any earnest consideration. Growing up on North American native land, spending time on Andean land, going deep into Vedic religion— I was a mix of many influences and those related to blood seemed like the least relevant. 

In my Krishna commune, we called our group “family” and I think genuinely felt that way about each other. It was not genetics that connected us but a spiritual purpose and a belief we were all headed to the same lofty quarters of heaven. I remember learning one Hebrew song after hearing tons of Vedic chants and seeing a Star of David in my mind’s eye during a sweat lodge, but other than that my ethnic-spiritual past seemed far away.  

Meanwhile it wasn’t until a couple of years after leaving that group when I began to do a lot of deeper healing than that which had been supposedly dealt with in my religion, when I thought all my burdens had been lit on fire by god. In a way it was true: I received a spiritual communion which rooted itself so deeply in my consciousness that I can never go back to who I was before that experience. But still there was quite a deep wound to address, namely a traumatic childhood based on being abused by a parent. A parent who was abused by their own parent. And so on: a chain not of spiritual transmission but of shit. They were not the ancestors how I would have liked to imagine them: old sages or native chiefs whispering wise words in my ear. I did not want to admit the reality of the situation for a long time because of my chronic conditioning to downplay serious events in my life, brushing them aside because I never thought they were important enough—  which was an idea I had been brandished with by my abuser. Also it went against the image I had of myself as this spiritually liberated person. It wasn’t necessarily that this image was a complete illusion, which is a tempting conclusion to make when we receive a humbling from life. It would be easier to dismiss the entire past— but nothing can be so black and white. My ancestors are not all good or all evil. My initial spiritual experimentation did yield some truly healing moments. That was real for the time being. I could find meaning as a “galactic” citizen. But then eventually I did have to come down to earth. Another layer of the spiral had to unfold. A death had to take place. 

At first I resisted it and I saw my life stagnate a lot. Besides the fact that I was forcibly stranded in a rural country not my own due to the worldwide pandemic, I was stuck creatively, mentally and socially. I was isolating myself both physically and in way of ideas. I slowly started to become more interested in conspiracy theories, especially since world events have gotten so crazy which has sparked a whole tidal wave of increased paranoid thinking among everyone. Forget my ancestors being persecuted-- I was being persecuted just for being alive! The essential message of love—which was the lesson of all my valuable spiritual trips— was sometimes forgotten and the adrenaline rush of fear or excitement at some impending catastrophic event became almost a hobby and stood in for giving my time and energy to more creative and nourishing endeavors. It took a location move and I think my Saturn return to really kickstart a new cycle for myself, one where I do want to look at the pain I have been carrying and see how this pain is both mine and is not. The suffering in my genetic line is both something I can transcend out of and something I am inexplicably bound to and responsible for addressing. 

In the recognition of pain comes the power needed to finally confront it head on. I thought I had already sufficiently looked into my past and done the emotional purging work— but it was a whole new step for me to acknowledge the abuse as well as to acknowledge that I had some degree of trauma from what I went through. What followed from taking this step was not only more self-love and psychological balance but also a razing of my mental inventory: I was not exactly who I thought I was. This clearing made space for new inspiration and motivation, for the courage to create beauty where I could. To make jewelry, paint, dance, run, sing. Things I had forgotten and filled instead with trivial information. That was okay then, and I am okay now too. It is not some before/after scenario: that paradigm of healing is over. Like I said, healing is a spiral which unfurls at its own pace. I am exactly where I need to be. And from this vantage point, I can better hear what my ancestors are speaking to me, and I listen— while also telling them, I’m going to do things a bit differently now. We are going to do things different. 

[elwingflight]

Coronavirus: Information & Guidelines

What you can do now, and what to prepare for

There seems to be a lack of what-to-do suggestions on tumblr beyond handwashing, so I thought I’d put something together. I’ve never actually encouraged people to reblog something of mine before, but this might be the time. To be clear: I am not personally a public health expert of any kind. Both my parents are (epidemiology/global health degrees, worked for CDC) and I’ve run this by them. My information is coming from disease researchers on twitter and official public health guidelines online. Sources at the end of the post. This is mostly directed at people in countries where COVID-19 has been reported (I’m in the U.S.), but is not *yet* widespread in the community. Written Mar. 1st 2020, last updated 3/9 (shorter, helpful twitter thread here, helpful NPR article here)

General Info

Firstly, a lot of politicians are *still* trying to sugarcoat things, but it should be clear by now that the new coronavirus is spreading widely and will continue to do so. Because of the incubation period, and in the U.S. at least the delay in testing, the number of cases is almost certainly going to increase rapidly in the near future no matter what we do now. Official government sources are helpful, but its also good to look at what experts on viral epidemics who aren’t directly government-affiliated are saying. Their agenda is purely informing the public in the most constructive way possible, without politics getting in the way.

Two key points- COVID-19 can have a long incubation period (the time from when you catch the virus to when you start showing symptoms) and most people don’t get severe symptoms. Some are entirely asymptomatic, but most people get typical flu-like symptoms. Specifically, the early symptoms to watch out for are a fever and dry cough (meaning, a stuffy nose is probably just a regular cold). Its possible but unlikely to transmit the virus while asymptomatic, most transmission happens when you have heavier symptoms.

The most vulnerable people are the elderly (~ over 60) and those with preexisting health conditions (i.e. cardiovascular disease, respiratory condition, diabetes), or a simultaneous infection with something else (NOT kids in particular!) So far the mortality rate has been about 1-2% (compared to 0.1% for the general winter flu - yes, this really is worse). However, that might be an overestimate, both because people with mild cases aren’t getting tested (the denominator should be bigger), and because the early situation in Wuhan, where a lot of our numbers come from, was especially bad in regards to availability of healthcare.

This is an emotional, difficult situation. Don’t panic. The world didn’t end in 1918, and its not going to end now. But it is very serious, and we need to be thinking about it rationally, not pretending everything is just going to be okay, or uselessly pointing blame. Take care of your mental health, and check in with each other. Epidemics test our generosity and selflessness. Those qualities are needed right now, but don’t neglect yourself either.

What You Can Do Now

There is stuff everyone can do both to prevent yourself from getting infected, and to prepare if you do. ***The big picture to keep in mind is that the biggest risk of epidemics is that they overwhelm our system, especially our healthcare system. What I mean by this is that our society is built to deal with a certain volume of things happening at once- people buying groceries, getting sick, etc. If we suddenly all rush to do something, we overburden these systems and they won’t be there for the people who need them most. Therefore our goal is to slow down the spread of disease, buying time and lowering the overall burden on these systems. This is called “flattening the curve”. It looks like this, and I cannot stress how important this is.***

A very helpful thread on preparedness

Staying Healthy

Like similar viruses (think colds and flu), COVID-19 is mostly transmitted from person to person, usually by close contact but sometimes from an infected surface. More here.

Wash your hands. Everyone has heard this one- 20 seconds, soap all over your hands, wash the soap off. If you can’t wash your hands use an alcohol-based hand sanitizer (at least 60% alcohol). But handwashing is absolutely better. Also- cough into your elbow/shoulder, not your hand, and avoid shaking hands- try elbow bumps or maybe a polite nod instead! If you’re handwashing so much that you’re hands are threatening to crack and bleed though, consider washing more strategically or using hand sanitizer instead.

In combination with hand-washing- stop touching your face, especially while out! This takes practice, everyone does it all the time without thinking. A good practice is to avoid touching your face while out, then wash your hands thoroughly as soon as you get home.

Similarly, avoid touching surfaces as much as possible! Particularly bad are door handles, elevator buttons, that kind of thing. The virus can probably (based on studies of related viruses) last a while on these. Regular gloves can help a bit. Use a tissue then throw it away, use your elbow, etc.

Do Not buy face masks! There’s mixed evidence on whether they’re at all helpful when used by the general public to prevent catching a virus, but actual medical professionals who need them are facing shortages (that’s probably part of why so many healthcare workers got sick in Wuhan), so our buying them up is really bad. The only times you should be wearing them is if you yourself are sick (they do help then!) or if you’re looking after a sick person. Seek instruction in that case in how to use them properly. (Thread on why buying those fancy masks is not good).

If COVID-19 is in your community, try to stay 6 feet from people, which basically means going places as little as possible. See below.

Planning Ahead

Its also a good idea to prepare in case you need to self-quarantine. Self-quarantine is necessary if you’ve potentially been exposed to COVID-19, or if you’re sick but not enough to need to go to the hospital. Follow local guidelines- if there’s lots of transmission in your area, nonessential workers will probably be advised to stay home as much as possible.

If you’re able, get medication now. Don’t go crazy and buy out the drug store, just a reasonable amount. Try to get at least a month’s worth of any prescription medications. This can be hard at least in the U.S. - your doctor may well be able to prescribe more, but insurance companies and drug stores can be terrible. I’ve found trying a different drugstore can sometimes help. Try your best. They may also be reluctant to prescribe more to avoid causing shortages. Idk what the right answer is here.

Don’t go crazy and buy out the store, but start getting a little extra shelf-stable or frozen food. Even some root vegetables that will last a few weeks. You want enough for 2 weeks in case of self-quarantine, but you do NOT want to empty out stores. Panic buying is definitely a stress on the system. Just add a few extra things each time you shop. Don’t forget about pets. You can always eat the food and replenish it over time.

Make a plan with your family/community. If someone gets sick or needs to self-quarantine, is there a corner of the house they can stay in? Who can take care of them? etc. I haven’t focused on plans for schools/religious communities/workplaces etc but those are very important too! This is one place where keeping an eye on local and national news is important. In the U.S., for example, school systems are planning ways to make food available to kids if they’re not going to school.

If COVID-19 is starting to spread in your community, think about how else you can be a good community member. Cancelling nonessential doctor’s appointments, surgeries etc may be very important, for example. If schools are closed, can you help out neighbors with childcare? Do you have a cleaner who may need to be payed in advance if there’s a quarantine?

If You Might Be Sick/Need to Quarantine

See likely symptoms above. Remember, normal colds still exist, and if you go to the doctor for every one of those you will overwhelm the system.

Don’t just go to a hospital! Call ahead to your doctor/clinic/hospital and get instructions on what to do. Getting healthcare workers sick is something we really want to avoid. That said, DO get tested as soon as possible, and act as if you are contagious. The health coverage situation is the U.S. is not yet clear (and ofc its not something the current admin is eager to clarify). Hopefully testing will be covered financially by the government, but I can’t promise that at this time.

In the meantime, stay home and quarantined if you show any symptoms of illness if you possibly, possibly can. This is especially difficult in the U.S. if you don’t have sick leave/childcare, but please. Do your utmost.

Look after yourself. Skype/google hangouts/etc is great for keeping connected. Have some chocolate/chicken broth/other sick foods ready.

The Big Picture

Coronavirus/COVID-19 has not been declared a pandemic yet, but it probably will be before long. This is almost certainly going to get worse before it gets better. We don’t yet know if warmer weather will slow its spread, and a vaccine will probably take about 1-1.5 years to be developed and tested. As I mentioned before, the best thing we can do to keep the world working, minimize mortality, etc is to slow the spread as much as we can, and minimize the strain on the system. Hospitals are going to be overwhelmed. There aren’t infinite unoccupied beds or ventilators, or people to operate them, and supply chains could get disrupted. Thinking about these things is scary, and it will take time to adjust to what’s happening. Start that process now, and help everyone you know reach the point where they’re able to act, not panic. Another reassuring thing- if we slow the spread of COVID-19, in addition to fewer total people getting sick, you will soon have people who are recovered and almost certainly immune. These people will be invaluable as helpers in their communities.

Now that the practical stuff is out of the way, I want to say from a U.S. perspective that yes, our lack of social welfare other countries take for granted is going to hurt us. Lack of access to childcare, no guaranteed paid sick leave, and of course expensive healthcare are massive problems that will make it much harder to limit disease transmission. Help each other in any way you can, and vote for candidates that support implementing these policies! And of course, watch out for propaganda of all kinds, whether its using the virus as an excuse for racism, calls to delay elections, etc. So far my biggest concern is a lack of willingness to admit how serious this is, but we can do this. Lets put extra pressure on politicians to be honest and change policies to actually help people. But, yes, lets also stay united. We need each other now (just, you know, 6 feet apart).

A few sources

In general, the Guardian is a great, free, reliable source of news. In the U.S., NPR (website as well as radio) is another great source. The Washington Post and Seattle Times have made their coronavirus-related coverage open access, not sure about other national newspapers.

twitter thread from World Health Organization (WHO)

U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) COVID-19 homepage (not being updated in some ways it should be, like total # of tests)

A reality check from some non-Governmental experts (basically, what governments don’t want to say yet, which is that this virus is going to spread, and the goal now is to infect as few people as possible, as slowly as possible. Read this.)

Why you should act now, not when things get bad in your area (we’re always operating on outdated information)

If you want the latest technical info, The Lancet (major medical journal group) has all of their content compiled here, open access.

I can do my best to answer questions (i.e. ask my dad) but those or other reliable, readily find-able sources should have you pretty well covered. Do let me know if anything on here is wrong or needs to be updated! Stay safe, stay positive, we can do this.

[themainframes]

PLEASANT HILL DOSSIER

THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION WAS COMPILED BY THE HACKER KNOWN AS THE WHISPERER AND A VERIFIED WHISTLEBLOWER.

S.H.I.E.L.D. OUTPOSTS

Six outposts around the United States carried classified information relating to Project KOBRIK, including a code that could only be compiled from entering the system of each individual base. Within six days of the last week, four outposts were destroyed by the Winter Soldier and Black Widow. Surveillance shows the pairs also breaking into the last two on 30 May 2025 and 31 May 2025.

Footage on the sixth outpost - Helicarrier Thesus - showed footage of some kind of reality glitch that resulted in S.H.I.E.L.D. agents seemingly being erased from reality. Despite the red of the energy burst, Wanda Maximoff is not believed to be a suspect.

SEQUENCE UNLOCKED FROM OUTPOSTS: 4-9-5-7-2-4, Section 3

This code enters you into the Project Kobik mainframe

PROJECT KOBIK:

Using Infinity Stone based reality warping, S.H.I.E.L.D. has created the town of Pleasant Hill, CT, a highly sophisticated prison center for criminals that present the highest threats. They were either captured on the streets or transferred from other facilities and rehabilitated before completing a short stay at the Pleasant Hill Inn for monitoring. Afterwards, they are released to the town to acclimate into “normal” life.

Those entering Pleasant Hill with clearance are given reality blockers, chips made by Dr. Erik Selvig that affix to the back of the neck. It can be unhooked by applying pressure to the top left and bottom right corners. This opens neurological pathways and keeps the mind from succumbing to the reality warp.

The town database controls the town and is located in room 8-1 of the hospital. The database is <file not yet decoded> and can be powered down by <file not yet decoded> . A back-up system has not yet been solidified.

PLEASANT HILL, CT - BASIC STATS

TOWN MOTTO: “Come back for a stay!” LOCATION: 41.6032° N, 73.0877° W

POPULATION: 184

30 inmates/residents

96 ground operatives

40 civilan staffers

18 special agents (see below)

GOAL: Everybody finds out what’s so great about them in Pleasant Hill. Then, someday, they can leave and go do nice stuff out in society.

PLEASANT HILL, CT - TRAINING VIDEO TRANSCRIPT

AUDIO: Hello, I’m S.H.I.E.L.D. Special Coordinator Sharon Carter, and I’d like to welcome you to Pleasant Hill: the future of super villain incarceration. How many times have you heard the same story? Guy in costume gets caught, sent off to jail. But then -- one week later -- he breaks out again! It’s madness! We’ve tried Rafts… We’ve tried Vaults… We’ve tried Negative Zones. Nothing seems to stop the revolving door. But now, we at S.H.I.EL.D. have come up with a solution that’s humane, efficient and best of all, cost effective. Using our patented KOBIK program we can turn any enemy of the state into a peaceful member of society in seconds.

VISUAL: At this point, we see a criminal known as Segei Kravinoff, aka “Kraven the Hunter”  restrained.

AUDIO: Kravinoff has undergone physiological changes that put him at the top of the food chain. He is better, stronger, faster and more cunning than any human, coupled with his skills, Kraven truly is a dangerous and deadly adversary. He’s caused thousands in damages and killed hundreds both purposefully or as accidental casualties. Currently, a power dampener field negates his powers, but we all know how that usually works out, right? Except this time, we’re going to try something different. Watch what happens when we take Kraven and turn him into...

VISUAL: The screen briefly becomes red. When it refocuses Kravinoff is gone and replaced with a mild mannered man in glasses and scrubs.

AUDIO: Alban Lewis! Alban’s just moved to Pleasant Hill to open up the very first pet grooming shop. I’ll have to take my little guy over soon.

VISUAL: Kravinoff/Lewis is clearly disoriented but not upset as he waves hello before being escorted out.

AUDIO: Now, as an Agent stationed in Pleasant Hill, you’ll be charged with a number of duties such as surveillance, ongoing treatment and yes, security. But I’m pleased to report we haven’t needed much of anything in that department to date! However, a word of caution, stay out of the top floor of the hospital. It’s there that --

TRANSMISSION LOST.

PLEASANT HILL, CT - TRAINING VIDEO TRANSCRIPT

HERE you will find the up to date town registry based on the last census. Below is S.H.I.E.L.D.’s inmate list:

Adrian Toomes (Vulture) - sinister six

Agatha Harkness - n/a

Anthony Masters (Taskmaster) - thunderbolts

Benjamin Poindexter (Bullseye) - n/a

Cain Marko (Juggernaut) - n/a

Calvin Zabo (Mr. Hyde) - n/a

Elektra Natchios - n/a

Eric Williams (Grim Reaper) - n/a

Felicia Hardy (Black Cat) - n/a

Freelancer (Crush) - freelancers

Freelancer (Cursed Cass) - freelancers

Freelancer (Hotness) - freelancers

Freelancer (Might) - freelancers

Freelancer (Panic) - freelancers

Georges Batroc (Batroc the Leaper) - thunderbolts

Giulietta Nefaria (Madame Masque)

Helmut Zemo (Baron Zemo) - thunderbolts

John Walker (U.S. Agent) - thunderbolts

Karla Sofen (Moonstone) - n/a

Lonnie Lincoln (Tombstone) - n/a

Melissa Gold (Songbird) - thunderbolts

Miles Warren (Jackal)  - n/a

Norman Osborn (Green Goblin) - sinister six

Ripley Ryan (Star) - thunderbolts

Rita Demara (Yellowjacket) - sinister six

Roger Gocking (Porcupine) - n/a

Sergei Kravinoff (Kraven the Hunter) - sinister six

Sinthea Schmidt (Sin) - n/a

Wilson Fisk (Kingpin) - n/a

Yelena Belova (White Widow) - thunderbolts

PLEASANT HILL, CT - ADMINISTRATION

The highest level of Pleasant Hill officials, they retain their own faces when inside the town and are not required to live on the premises.

NAME: Maria Hill TITLE: Program Director AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: N/A

NAME: Sharon Carter / Agent 13 TITLE: Program Director AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Leah Overton

NAME: Dr. Barbara Morse / Mockingbird TITLE: Communications Liaison AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. / Mighty Avengers PERSONA: Violet Testa

PLEASANT HILL, CT - SCIENCE DIVISION

The Science Division work off-site but do enter Pleasant Hill to check in on the town database. They are not given new faces.

NAME: Dr. Erik Selvig TITLE: Scientific Development Director AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. / Independent  PERSONA: Dr. Hans Sutherland

NAME: Dr. Kavita Rao TITLE: Head of Research AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Dr. Mathilda Singh

PLEASANT HILL, CT - ONSITE SPECIALISTS

Onsite specialists outrank embedded agents and S.H.I.E.L.D. staffers. They are allowed to retain their own faces and are required to be present in Pleasant Hill daily with most leaving the town at night.

NAME: Alisandre Morales TITLE: Head of Intake Processing AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Natalia Granger

NAME: Alison Blaire / Dazzler TITLE: Head of Civilian Affairs AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Lissa Little

NAME: Jake Oh TITLE: Head of Security AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Tate Yang

NAME: Dr. Randall Jessup TITLE: Head of Onsite Scientific Research AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Dr. Daniel Torres

NAME: Dr. Valerie Cooper TITLE: Onsite Psychologist AFFILIATION: SA to President's National Security Adviser  PERSONA: Dr. Flora Bond

PLEASANT HILL, CT - REINFORCEMENTS

Selected for their abilities, the telepathic reinforcements individually alternate the town to handle any glitches or border disruptions. They are not given face changes.

NAME: Olivia Hook TITLE: Telepathic Intervention & Protection AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Clara Rot

NAME: Martinique Wyngarde / Mastermind TITLE: Telepathic Reinforcement & Security AFFILIATION: Freelance PERSONA: Cassandra West

NAME: Regan Wyngarde / Lady Mastermind TITLE: Telepathic Reinforcement & Security AFFILIATION: Freelance PERSONA: Cleo West

PLEASANT HILL, CT - EMBEDDED AGENTS

Embedded agents must primarily reside in Pleasant Hill and are allowed to leave for one day a week. They outrank S.H.I.E.L.D. staffers but have Pleasant Hill appearance changes.

NAME: Avril Kincaid TITLE: Mayor’s Assistant AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Vera Jakobs

NAME: Daisy Johnson TITLE: Town Patrol AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. / Ultimates  PERSONA: Sabine Tasker

NAME: Jenna Carlisle TITLE: Runs Town Inn  AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Florence Young

NAME: Nicole Orr TITLE: Town Management AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Dina Scott

NAME: Scott Adsit TITLE: Border Patrol  AFFILIATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. PERSONA: Robert Bridgers

S.H.I.E.L.D. OUTPOSTS

Six outposts around the United States carried classified information relating to Project KOBRIK, including a code that could only be compiled from entering the system of each individual base. Within six days of the last week, four outposts were destroyed by the Winter Soldier and Black Widow. Surveillance shows the pairs also breaking into the last two on 30 May 2025 and 31 May 2025.

Footage on the sixth outpost - Helicarrier Thesus - showed footage of some kind of reality glitch that resulted in S.H.I.E.L.D. agents seemingly being erased from reality. Despite the red of the energy burst, Wanda Maximoff is not believed to be a suspect.

SEQUENCE UNLOCKED FROM OUTPOSTS: 4-9-5-7-2-4, Section 3

This code enters you into the Project Kobik mainframe

[lilacmoon83]

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 236: Fireflies

The fire could be seen reflecting in Jekyll's eyes, as he was just a few feet from escape, but he lurched and looked down to find Charming's blade protruding from his chest. He landed on his feet, just at the edge and turned around, looking at him in shock. He saw the blackness slowly spider webbing from his wound and started to see the ash flaking from his body.

"No...this can't be! You can't defeat me!" Jekyll cried, as he lurched again and the blade returned to David's hand.

"I just did," the Prince stated.

"You're done...and you're never going to hurt my wife again, let alone haunt her," David assured him.

"The Chalice absorbed the Olympian crystal long ago. No Underworld, no afterlife, nothing...you just stop existing and we rest easy, knowing that not even your soul can cause harm to anyone ever again," he continued. Jekyll tried to charge at the Prince again, but the white fire from the Chalice sword consumed him in a brilliant flash. He screamed briefly, as he was destroyed and his cries were swiftly squelched, as was his existence.

"And that is the end of the video that has more than fifty million views, worldwide. That tiny clip alone has double that, worldwide. It's action packed, it gets the heart racing, in more ways than one, and people seem enthralled by it to the point of obsession," Goldie said into her mic, as she conducted her latest live podcast. They had spent a pretty penny in the last year on the best equipment, including a high end VPN, to hide their location. They weren't wanted in the Land Without Magic, per say, but it was no secret that they were and they knew some idiot fans would only be too happy to make a citizen arrest if they might get the attention of the Charming family, who had gone mostly dark since the namesake of their family had killed the insane monster known as Dr. Jekyll.

On her show though, she was not playing the clip to celebrate it. But instead, she was playing it to continue to push her fear narrative. Her numbers were significant, as some out there did see the danger of a family with so much power.

"But if this one man, combined with his wife, has this much power...how can any of us truly ever feel safe? He could wipe us out even more easily than he did Dr. Jekyll. And he has sired five children that are potentially even stronger than him," she continued.

"Five children that can control the weather...and lay waste to an entire city with one conjured storm," she added.

"And I'm sure some might argue that the beloved Charmings would never do that...because they're good. But most of those same people have read the book and know that Snow and Charming have gone dark before. What is preventing that from happening again? Or preventing one of their kids from turning evil as well?" she said.

"If tragedy struck any one of them...what would stop them from lashing out with vengeance in their pain? If you've read the book...then you know that's what happened to the Evil Queen. She didn't just wake up and decide to be evil. She lost the man she loved and thousands died for it," she continued.

"What would stop Charming from doing the same if he lost his beloved Snow or Snow if she lost her Charming?" she asked, as she read the chat and smirked.

"I see many agree with me...but none of us know what exactly we can do about it. However, you'll be happy to know that there are those out there that are trying to see to our safety," she said.

"They are trying to develop a solution to this problem, but can only do so with the help of the people. And it's being done with your donations. With your donations, we can fight this fight," Goldie said.

"So donate today, share this podcast far and wide, and know that you're doing something to secure our future. Until next time," she said, ending the stream and taking off her headphones.

While it was true that they had spent most of what they had to get set up and lived the first few weeks in a crappy motel, it wasn't long before they were approached by an investor.

Amelia Blaine, owner of several billion dollar retail chains nation and worldwide, offered to fund them if they continued to push their fear narrative, with the stipulation that there was a solution. A vague, yet plausible one and help them build a citizen militia, without the citizens even realizing they were being radicalized. It was a common military tactic, so they weren't too surprised to learn that Ms. Blaine answered to a man named General Mendoza. They hadn't met him yet, but knew he was the man that Major Patricia Donovan had once worked for and then betrayed in favor of the Charmings.

Mendoza had gone almost as dark as the Charmings had in the last year and was working on ways to bring them down. This one was just one plan and Ms. Blaine even let it slip that they were working on ways to combat or even destroy magic. Goldie didn't know if that was possible, but she and Grimm were all in and used her podcast and his blog as a megaphone to put fear into people about the Charmings, the United Realms, and magic in general. In return, they were paid incredibly well and their equipment was upgraded to state of the art. They now lived in an expensive New York penthouse apartment and enjoyed all the luxuries.

"You really think General Mendoza and his team can find a way to destroy magic?" Grimm asked. She smirked.

"I don't know...but if they can, I'm going to enjoy watching the United Realms burn and the Charmings suffering," she replied. He smirked back.

"I'd bring marshmallows to that bonfire," he agreed.

"How are the numbers tonight?" she asked.

"About four thousand live on the biggest platform. Less, but significant on the smaller ones and we always get good numbers on replays," he replied.

"And the Truest podcast?" she asked, knowing that Eva Charming had streamed earlier that night.

"Let's not do that to ourselves," he replied.

"I want to know her numbers," Goldie demanded. He winced.

"On the largest platform...she had twenty-thousand live and her replay numbers are already climbing past our live count," he revealed, ready for the coming tirade, as Goldie let out a frustrated yell.

"Why!? Why is everyone so enamored with that prissy little upstart!?" she raged.

"She's not even a real journalist!" Goldie complained.

"Yeah...but she's their daughter. You shouldn't be surprised," he said.

"We have to get our numbers up…" Goldie said.

"I agree," Amelia Blaine said, as she arrived with her bodyguards.

"You can't just barge in here whenever you want," Goldie said.

"Oh, but I can since I pay the mortgage on this place," Amelia replied.

"Your live numbers tonight are dismal, at best," she added.

"What do you expect? Most people salivate over that damned family. Not many want to tune in and hear us talk crap about them," Grimm reminded her.

"I'm aware, Mr. Grimm. Even less people read your pitiful blog," she said. He glared at her, but was silent.

"What do you want us to do?" Goldie asked in frustration.

"You're hyper focused on the parents. Start going after the kids. Stoke fear about the children," she suggested.

"Snow and Charming are ignoring you. They're seasoned at this and don't care what people say or think about them. The children on the other hand will elicit a reaction and one we might be able to exploit if done right," she said. Goldie smirked.

"That I can do...and I'll enjoy it," the blonde agreed.

"Let's hope you do well...the General isn't impressed by your numbers at all. If you don't improve, this posh little lifestyle goes away and you're on the street," Amelia warned, as she left with her goons.

"So...who are you going to focus on first?" Grimm asked. Goldie smirked.

"Who else? Emma has interacted in this world more than any of their kids. She's got plenty to exploit and it will drive mommy and daddy Charming crazy," she said. He smirked.

"Indeed it will," he agreed.

"But we won't stop there. The twins will be next, then the youngest ones. By the end, Mama Snow will be at our door ready to rip my head off and I'll get it all on tape,"

"And the General will be ready to trap them both when they come," he agreed.

~*~

Rose and Fandral turned on the inter realm communication system that Sif had provided for them. Rose and Sif actually communicated on a regular basis, but it had been a while and she hadn't seen the twins yet.

"Good morning Sif," Rose greeted. She smiled.

"Good morning to both of you...I apologize for being out of communication for a while, but much has happened here recently," she said.

"Really?" Fandral asked. She nodded.

"It's a lot though and there have been many developments. Thor is leaving Earth soon...but not before the funeral," she replied.

"Funeral? Who has passed?" Rose asked.

"Well, I'm afraid Natasha is gone...but so is Mr. Stark," she replied, stunning them.

"Like I said, much has happened, though some of it is very good. Natasha and Tony are the reason that much of it is wonderful news. But I would rather explain everything in person," she said.

"Things are safe here now. I was hoping you could visit and so was Thor...before he leaves," she added. Rose smiled.

"Things are quiet here...I don't see why not and the kids would love it," she said. Fandral smiled and nodded.

"We'll contact Hermes and make all the necessary arrangements to be away. Zorro can more than handle things around here for a few days," Fandral said. Sif smiled.

"That's wonderful...and I can't wait to meet these two in person," she replied, as she spotted the twin babies in their arms.

"And Astrid and Gunnar can't wait to meet their Aunty Sif and Uncle Thor either," Rose replied.

"Strong Asgardian names...I will see you all soon," Sif said, as the transmission winked out.

"Poor Natasha…" Rose said sadly.

"I know...she helped us much when Seth banished us. I am glad we are going to honor her," Fandral replied. She nodded.

"Well, we should go tell the kids and pack. We have a lot to do in just a couple hours," she replied. He nodded, as they took the babies back upstairs to prepare.

~*~

Bobby closed his locker and slung his backpack over his shoulder, before meandering toward the direction of his first class of the day. Being normal definitely had its advantages and being back in school on a regular basis was nice. He would never be normal, even in a place like Storybrooke, but he had plenty of friends and was definitely enjoying the peace.

"Morning Bobby," Zia said, as she and Olivia rounded the corner to meet him.

"Morning," he said, as he joined hands with the dark haired girl. He was aware that both had a crush on him, shortly after he resumed his freshman year last year, but any romantic feelings he had were for Zia. Olivia understood and she was still good friends with them both. He saw the banner being hung up for Winter Formal that weekend and looked at her. Olivia smiled at them and went into the classroom.

"I'll make myself scarce," the blonde said.

"Well...that was subtle," Zia mentioned. He chuckled.

"I'm not sure I could be subtle myself even...tact is not something Charmings are known for, so you wanna go to the dance?" he asked. She smiled and nodded.

"I'd love to," she agreed.

"Okay...but I have to warn you that my Mom is going to go all out and take like a gazillion photos, so just prepare for being blinded by camera flashes," he joked. She giggled.

"I love your Mom and I'm prepared for our upcoming photo shoot," she teased back, as they went into the classroom and the bell rang.

~*~

After morning training with James and his father, David did a quick patrol around Storybrooke since Emma had taken the morning off and then stopped at Granny's for takeout. He arrived at Snow's office and nodded politely to her receptionist, who still got a little awestruck and blushed every time she saw him. He winced though, as he heard his wife raise her voice through the door.

"Meeting with the heads of state?" he asked. Chloe, the receptionist, nodded.

"Midas insists on arguing with her...I don't know why, because he never wins," she replied. He smirked.

"Because he's no match," David said, as he quietly went in and closed the door, waiting off to the side. Hyde and Hiram had unveiled a host of new inventions in the last year that they had rolled out. One was the hologram system of communication, allowing the heads of state to meet from their own castles or offices on most occasions. They got together in person from time to time, but this eliminated the need for neutral locations and saved a lot of time most days. It was probably the only reason Midas was still alive too, because by the look on his wife's face, he could tell she was ready to put an arrow in his eye.

"King Midas...we are only days away from the grand opening of the Pleasure Island resort. Our teams and crews have worked tirelessly to transform a once haven of crime and filth into a luxurious vacation resort for all ages and classes to enjoy," Snow said in a measured tone.

"I agreed to let you have the Casino wing, as I agreed that adults are free to make their own decisions on what to do with their money...but I draw the line at any kind of unsavory club as you're suggesting. I want this to be a family friendly place and not become an eyesore like Iago's," Snow said.

"Queen Snow...there is nothing wrong with the addition of a gentleman's club. There will be security and an age requirement, of course," Midas replied.

"No…" Snow refuted.

"This has to be put to a vote!" Midas insisted.

"Normally yes and most of the time, I would be reluctant to do anything without diplomacy, but this is one time I am going to use my executive powers. And gentleman's club is putting this nicely," she said, as she held up a folder that had his proposal in it.

"This is nothing more than a strip club and a brothel and I won't have it. Your motion is denied by executive decision," she said.

"You can't do that, your prissy little wench!" Midas said, as his anger exploded. David clenched his fist and rooted his feet into the floor. It was taking him every ounce of control he could muster not to tell him off himself, but he knew Snow could handle him.

"King Midas...if you're going to continue this kind of behavior, then you will be removed from this project. Am I clear?" Snow snapped. He shrank back a little.

"Very well, Your Majesty," he spat.

"It's clear we all need some time to cool off, some of us more than others. We'll take a long lunch and reconvene in two hours," she said, as she pressed a button on her computer and their holograms disappeared.

"It must have taken you every ounce of control you have not to intervene and rip his head off," she mused. He smirked.

"I know you can handle it, but you're right...I'd like to make him smack himself and turn himself into a gold statue," he replied. She giggled.

"I think we would all enjoy that, a little too much," she said, as he set the food down on her desk and then took her in his arms.

"So...long lunch?" he asked. She smirked.

"Mmm…I could definitely use it," she replied.

"And here I thought I was going to have to be quick," he mused, as they swayed together. She bit her bottom lip.

"Well, at the risk of inflating your ego...you're never quick," she said. He smirked.

"Good to know," he replied, as she looked in the sack, finding all her favorites.

"Two different kinds of dessert?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I figured we'd work it off," he replied. She bit her bottom lip again, as they moved to the sofa in her office. Maybe she should have made it a three hour lunch…

~*~

Leo hopped off Pegasus and petted his mane, before leading him to the trough for a drink and something to eat. He and Pegasus, along with Firestorm, also did an aerial patrol of the reserve in the morning and checked on all the animals. He and Elsa had hired staff that they trusted and vetted to help run the reserve to help out. Everything was running smoothly and Firestorm cawed, as he sat on his perch and watched Leo.

"I didn't forget you, buddy," he promised, as he grabbed a handful of seeds and held out his hand so the Phoenix could eat too. After he finished, Leo ruffled his feathers affectionately and checked over the inventory of food and supplies that had just been delivered.

"Leo...I think that mother Unicorn is about to give birth!" one of his young workers said, as he rushed in.

"Okay...did you call the equestrian vet?" Leo asked.

"That's the thing...he's in surgery. I guess one of the horse's at the stables needed emergency surgery this morning," the kid said, as he was nearly panicked.

"Okay...relax, I've gone this before and so has my sister," he said, as he dialed Eva.

"Hey...the vet is unavailable and we have a unicorn ready to give birth. Can you pop over here?" he asked, as he listened.

"Thanks Eva," he said, as he hung up.

"She's on her way," he said, as he started gathering some supplies.

"Need some help?" Kristoff asked, as he arrived with Sven. Kristoff and Sven were frequent visitors and helpers at the reserve too.

"Yeah, the vet is busy and we have a mama unicorn ready to go. Eva's on her way," Leo said.

"Okay...baby Unicorn time. Looks like Hope might get that Unicorn for her birthday," he teased.

"Yeah…Emma keeps telling my parents not to, but you know they're going to," Leo said, as they headed out to the stables, just as Eva arrived to help with the birthing.

"Thanks for coming," he said. She smiled.

"You know that I love this and it's a pretty slow day at the hospital. Plus, my audience will love hearing about the birth of a baby unicorn," she replied.

"You know...I wasn't sure your podcast was a good idea at first, but you're really good at it," Kristoff said.

"Thanks," she replied.

"Yeah...and it helps that you make Goldie's podcast look like a joke," Leo added.

"That is a bonus...I wouldn't usually wish misfortune on anyone, but she's the exception," she agreed, as they arrived at the stables.

~*~

Summer concentrated, as she went through her dance routine for the school's upcoming recital. Upon returning to dance, her instructor expressed a suggestion that Summer would excel in rhythmic gymnastics. Summer loved both dance and gymnastics and it seemed like the perfect blend of both. So she had begun training and her instructor had been right about it being her niche. She finished her routine with an impressive backflip and caught her baton, as her music ended. Her instructor gave her a hug.

"You are going to be the star of the recital," she assured. Summer blushed slightly.

"Thanks…" she said.

"Your parents must be bursting at the seams with pride," she mentioned. She grinned.

"My Dad was just showing me the new camera he bought last night for the recital and Mom has already bought new albums. It's a little embarrassing," she joked.

"I think it's sweet," she said, as then pointed off to the side.

"And you have another admirer," she said, as Summer spotted JJ watching and waiting for her, still in his uniform from working as a paramedic. She grabbed her towel and her bag, before hurrying over to greet him.

"Hey...you busy for lunch?" he asked.

"Not at all...Granny's?" she asked.

"They do have the best crinkle cut fries," he replied, with a smile.

"Definitely...it's a date," she agreed, as they joined hands and headed out to his car.

"How was work?" she asked.

"Slow day...but I guess that's good when you're a paramedic," he replied. They had been dating a little over a year now and things were getting serious between them. She hadn't told him that she loved him yet and he hadn't said it either...but she knew what she was feeling and was wondering if he felt the same. She thought about talking to Emma about it to see if she should tell him before he said it to her. She loved her Mom, but since her parents fell in love fighting trolls and her mom lost her memory, and her dad nearly died multiple times, and her mother was cursed before they could be together, Summer felt that her mother's experience in this matter was so different than the norm that Emma might be the better advisor in this aspect.

Her parents had this true, all encompassing love that was amazing, but could be intimidating at the same time. JJ was from the Land Without Magic, so she didn't want to scare him with all these expectations that she had about love. Emma had experience in his world as well and probably would have the best advice in this respect.

After an enjoyable lunch, they exited the diner, hand in hand and he looked over at her.

"You look like you have something to say," she mentioned. He smiled.

"Yeah…I'm just not sure how to say it," he replied.

"You can tell me anything," she assured him.

"So…I want to take you somewhere special tonight, for our date. But then I realized that I have no idea where," he said.

"Why don't we just take a walk? There's a lot of trails in the woods down by the Toll bridge," she replied. He smiled.

"Okay…I'll pick you up at seven," he said, as he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. Her heart fluttered, as she watched him go and then she turned to hurry in the other direction.

"Whoa...where the fire?" Emma asked.

"Emma...thank God, I have to talk to you," Summer replied. The blonde smirked.

"Okay...you can talk while I eat through these onion rings," she said, as they found an outdoor table at Granny's.

"So…JJ said he wanted to go somewhere special tonight and he didn't know where and stupid me just suggested that we take a walk on the trails down by the Toll bridge," Summer said. Emma shrugged.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked.

"Emma...it's the Toll bridge! I mean, the Toll bridge, as in the infamous Troll bridge where the greatest love story of all time was freaking born!" she replied.

"What if JJ thinks I have some expectations from him and he bails?" she fretted. Emma smirked.

"What if he doesn't and slaps the big L on you?" the blonde asked, enjoying her baby sister's tiny little freak out. Summer sat there, thinking that over for a minute.

"This stuff is so...hard!" she complained, making her older sister chuckle.

"Oh I know...believe me," she said.

"Maybe Mom and Dad have it right. Maybe fighting trolls and dodging Black Knights was easier than this," Summer said.

"Nah…Mom and Dad are just weird. In the best way, but weird. Love usually doesn't blossom from assault with a rock and entrapment by net," Emma replied, as they shared a chuckle.

"Or fighting smelly trolls," Summer added with a giggle.

"Seriously though...if he's thinking about taking you somewhere special, then he certainly wasn't planning on bailing in the first place, cause he would have already done that," Emma said. Summer nodded.

"Yeah…I guess you're right," she agreed.

"And he's not from here so if he's not running away after everything he's seen...then I don't think he's going to," she said. Summer nodded, instantly feeling better.

"Thanks…I was right to talk to you," Summer said.

"Anytime," Emma said, as they hugged.

"I have to get back to campus...I'll see you later," she called.

"Good luck!" Emma called back, as she finished lunch and headed back to the station.

~*~

Snow kissed him passionately, as they got dressed and he was trying to button his shirt.

"Mmm…I should have called for a three hour lunch," she mewled, as he kissed her intensely.

"I know...but we can always have an encore later tonight," he promised, as he kissed her forehead and finished buttoning his shirt.

"I am going to hold you to that, handsome," she purred, as they held each other close.

"Summer will be out with JJ and Bobby is going over to hang out with Gideon at Belle and Gold's. That leaves us to our own devices," he said. She smiled.

"I can't wait for that then," she replied, as he kissed her again, before leaving her office. She turned back to her desk and pulled up the model of the upcoming resort that was opening imminently on her computer. It was going to be a beautiful vacation spot, but there was still much to do.

"You're late," Regina said, as Snow logged back onto the meeting.

"Sorry…" Snow replied.

"That's okay...we're all late. No one wants to spend another three hours with Midas, even virtually," she said.

"True, but it's better than being in the same room as him and this whole virtual thing solves the problem of finding agreeable neutral locations for our meetings," Snow said, with a sigh.

"Why are all these stuffed shirts so concerned by where we have the meeting?" she complained. Regina smirked.

"Men, especially men stuck in their old ways, tend to be territorial," Jasmine chimed in, as she logged in.

"Midas must be losing his mind since you haven't admitted him to the meeting yet," Phillip said, as he logged on.

"No one can stand the windbag and this is coming from me, who has a windbag for a father-in-law," Eric agreed.

"At least Triton refuses to attend, because he can't be bothered with matters of the "filthy human world," as he puts it," Glinda said.

"Yeah...why hasn't Abigail and Frederick taken over at least some of his duties yet. He's no spring chicken," Zorro said. Usually, it was Rose or Fandral attending, but since they had gone to visit Thor, Zorro was standing in for them.

"That's easy...control issues. My mother was only too happy to hand these duties over to me," Tiana chimed in.

"You know, we could just forget to let him into the meeting," Elsa said.

"I'm with her," Guinevere agreed.

"I'm all for that. Dad warned me plenty about Midas," Thomas said.

"I still can't believe he suggested we allow a strip club," Snow complained. Regina snorted.

"I can," she said. Snow sighed.

"I think we need to utilize the mute button a bit more or I'm going to permanently mute him this time," Aphrodite said, making them chuckle.

"Let's get this over with," she said, as she admitted him to the meeting.

"You are ten minutes late, Queen Snow. Again. If you cannot conduct these meetings on time, then perhaps someone else should organize them," he replied. Snow rolled her eyes.

"Or maybe you shouldn't attend at all," she retorted. He snorted.

"Oh, you would love that, but this is as much my project as it is anyone's and I have many more proposals to be considered. Neverland, after all, is a territory and we agreed that it and Pleasure Island should not be acquisitioned by any one Kingdom," he said.

"You only agreed to that, because we would never let you use military force to take that territory," Phillip said, but Midas ignored him.

"Fine, Your Majesty, you have the floor for a final time. But I warn you, if anything proposed involves the exploitation of young people, it gets an immediate veto," Snow said, as the meeting continued. It was going to be a long afternoon.

~*~

"Yes...that's all of it," Henry said, as he talked to his publisher in the Land Without Magic and listened to him on the other end.

"I know that you're used to a bit more calamity going on around here, but believe me, the rest of us are enjoying the peaceful times. I think my readers can appreciate that," Henry said, rolling his eyes. This guy wanted drama and battle all the time.

"I agree...the politics here are pretty much the same. Believe me, it's my grandmother's least favorite part of her job," Henry said, before listening again.

"Yes, you'll have a detailed exclusive of the resort opening next week. I'll be covering it all," he said, as he listened to his publisher again.

"Thanks," Henry said, as he hung up, just as Ella carried a box into the kitchen.

"Not enough drama in Storybrooke this week for him?" she joked. He snickered.

"Yeah...he didn't say it's been boring lately, but I'm sure he's thinking it," he replied, as he looked at the box.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It was in the closet," she replied.

"Oh yeah...this is the box of manuscripts that Grimm left behind. Great grandpa Xander gave it to me to sort through. Guess I forgot about it," he muttered, as he leafed through the notebooks and wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah...this guy writes some dark stuff," he said.

"Wasn't he writing these so he could get your grandparents blood and use it as ink?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yeah…I think that was their plan," he said, as he tossed it back in the box with disgust.

"And he was pretty intent on torturing my grandparents," he said.

"We should burn these," Ella said.

"You're right…" he agreed, as they took the box into the backyard and emptied the contents into the fire pit. She handed the lighter and he lit the notebooks on fire.

"No gruesome, horrible futures for our family. Only happiness," Henry said, as he put his arm around her. She smiled and they watched the fire together.

~*~

"This was a great place to come...I knew I could count on you to pick the perfect place," JJ said, as they walked along the trail through the woods. They were well past the Toll Bridge now and the winter foliage and dusting of snow was gorgeous.

"I think it's a Charming thing...we all seem to love the woods. Except Emma," she joked. He chuckled.

"Did you have special places you liked to go back in Boston?" she asked.

"A few. There were a couple of nice parks and bike trails. The city is so busy though...it's nothing like here," he said, as he smiled at her.

"In a good way," he added, as they stopped by the babbling stream.

"This place is unique...is that what keeps you here?" she asked. He smiled and brushed her hair away from her face.

"No...you keep me here," he replied and she bit her bottom lip, as she blushed.

"I'm really not good at any of this," Summer confessed. He chuckled.

"You're you...and that's what I love," he confessed, as their eyes met.

"Love?" she squeaked. He smiled.

"Yeah…I love you. I was kind of nervous about how to tell you. I mean, you're the daughter of two people that have this amazing love story and I'm just a normal guy," he replied.

"You're not just normal. Believe me, if you were, my family or this place would have scared you away long ago," she joked. He chuckled.

"Guess so…" he said.

"I love you too, JJ," she replied and they shared a kiss at that. They joined hands then and started back toward town.

~*~

"Well...what do you think?" Natalie asked, as she finished her latest exhibit. Xander held his grandson and smiled.

"I think it looks great...just like what Snow and David described," he said, admiring the Cibola exhibit, particularly the new addition of the tallest tower display. Anyone was allowed to tour Cibola, but it was known now that not everyone was allowed to venture to the top of the tallest tower. They weren't sure what would happen if someone did, but Zia had been clear that the texts she had read forbade the wrong people from going there.

"Thanks," she said, as she stood back to admire her work and he put his hand on her shoulder.

"This combined with the new Northuldra display should draw a few classrooms," she said.

"It will do more than that," Xander said.

"He's right, sweetie," her mother agreed, as Thalia sided up to Xander and smiled, as she took their grandson from him.

"Thanks Mom," Natalie replied.

"Are you considering doing the digital tours?" Thalia asked.

"I am...I mean, this stuff is so amazing and the world should see it all. I just don't want to do anything to endanger our family," Natalie replied.

"And Snow and David seem to think there is no harm in virtual tours. They said that there are good people out there that deserve to see all this and since we can't let them in...virtually is a safe way to do it," Xander said.

"He's right...this is always what you wanted. To present the discoveries and wonders like this to the world," Thalia agreed. She nodded.

"We agree," David said, as he and Snow arrived, hand in hand.

"Yeah, we don't see how sharing the Atlantis museum with the world, at least virtually, will hurt. As much bad as we've seen…" Snow said, as she looked at her husband fondly.

"We know there is more good in the world than bad," she finished. He gently lifted her chin with his hand, as he caressed her cheek.

"There is...even if it doesn't always seem that way," he agreed.

"And the exhibit looks great. You recreated it down to the last detail," he added, as they came closer. Levi cooed and Snow couldn't help herself.

"Come see Aunty Snow," she said, as Thalia handed him to her and she cuddled him.

"Oh...you're getting so big," Snow cooed.

"Yeah...you'll be ready for those wooden swords before we know it, won't you, big guy?" David cooed to him, as he peered down.

"You're really insistent on the sword thing, huh?" Natalie asked.

"Of course...it's a Charming tradition," he replied.

"Well…I was going to ask who wants to babysit tonight so I could get a drink with Diego," she said, calling Zorro by his first name.

"But I sense that I don't need to," she replied.

"Yeah, we'll watch him. I think it's our turn anyway," David said.

"It's not...but sure," Xander replied.

"It is kind of their turn," Natalie told him.

"Okay...well, we get next time," Snow said, as she kissed his head and handed him back to Thalia.

"Okay...well, you have fun with grandma and grandpa, sweetie," Natalie said, as she kissed her son and gathered her stuff.

"Granny's?" Xander asked all of them. Snow and David smiled.

"Yeah, we'll join you," he said.

"Sounds like the perfect evening," Snow agreed.

~*~

King Runeard emerged from the desert that evening and loomed around the Agrabah marketplace. He had found the desert surrounding Agrabah to be ideal in the past year. It was vast and rarely traversed and thanks to his powers, he took shelter in the cave of wonders without incident. Thanks to his unique powers, he went undetected by the magic guarding the treasures inside. He had to be careful where he went, lest he wished to reveal himself. When he was too close to a Charming, the elements seemed to go wild, as if to warn their chosen. It infuriated him. He was being denied his Throne and magic had grown to be a very great nuisance. When he exterminated the Northuldra, this had been his reason for doing so. Magic was a disease and only when it was eliminated could the balance be restored. And he was going to find a way to do that.

He disappeared from the Agrabah marketplace and outside Iago's in the rundown east part of Storybrooke. It seemed to be the only portion of the town that was resistant to the Charmings and refused to be bettered by their interference. The only reason they were probably still allowed to exist was because the Charmings were not dictators. He found it absurd though. It was rot like this that he would be their undoing. They refused to crush their opposition, but that opposition would not hesitate to crush them in return, given the opportunity. He took advantage of this little spot though and walked into the Tavern. No one there would tell anyone if they happened to recognize him and most probably wouldn't anyway. He signaled the bartender and he gave him a skeptical look, before coming over to him.

"Your strongest ale," he requested.

"This ain't that fancy artisan place like they have on the west side. You want something hard in here, you should go with brandy or whiskey," the bartender said.

"Fine then...brandy," he replied. The bartender poured it for him and he took a drink.

"I don't want any trouble. I see one badge or one freaking Charming poke their head in this bar…" Iago said.

"And you'll do what against my power or theirs for that matter?" Runeard challenged. Iago closed his mouth and continued to glare at the man.

"Not to worry, my friend...I am not ready for any confrontation either and they barely patrol this end, am I correct?" Runeard asked.

"Here and there...but generally no. Charming sends someone to check on me once a while to see if he can find any violations or reasons to shut me down...but I'm careful," Iago replied.

"Good man...use their rules of good conduct against them," Runeard complimented.

"Yeah…I miss the days under Seth. Those days were lawless and he had Charming on a leash. He didn't bother me for two years and we were like the Pleasure Island of the Mainland," Iago replied.

"Yes...they have taken quite a bite out of the crime, so to speak, in the last year when they took down the island," Runeard agreed.

"Is that what you and all your patrons do? Lament the good 'ole days when you could thieve and pillage without check?" Runeard asked derisively.

"It's better than what you do...lurking in the shadows and pretending you have real power," Iago spat. Runeard touched the man and he was stricken. He started to turn gray, but Runeard pulled away. He gasped and fell back against the counter, as he looked at the man with wide eyes.

"I am not pretending I have power...I could kill everyone in this town with a simple touch. But as you can imagine, that power is not always feasible or easily weaponized. But when I figure out how to do it...then I will shred all the realms down to nothing and begin anew under my rule!" he said, as he stood up.

"I trust my drink is on the house," he said.

"Whatever...just get out!" Iago stammered. Runeard started to leave when a man at a table he passed called out.

"You might want to contact this man...he may be able to help you find what you need," the burly man said. Runeard looked at him and took the card.

"General Mendoza?" he asked. The man nodded.

"And how can someone from outside the United Realms help me?" Runeard asked.

"He wants to take the Charmings down as much as you and has vast resources, plus information or so he says," the man said.

"And why would he use you to tell me, Mr.?" Runeard asked.

"Rourke...and he hired me, because I'm a mercenary for hire and he pays very well. Do with that information what you will," Rourke replied, as he finished his drink.

"He sent this too, since he figured you wouldn't have one of these," Rourke continued, as he handed him a flip style cell phone.

"You'll have to figure out the rest, but it's what's called a burner phone and can't be traced," he added, before getting up and leaving the bar. Runeard left to and returned to his solace in the desert to contemplate this new development.