#District Mining Task Force operations

[townpostin]

Jamshedpur Intensifies Fight Against Illegal Mining

New Task Force to Enforce Stricter Regulations and Conduct Regular Raids District officials launch comprehensive strategy to combat unauthorized mining activities, protect revenue, and ensure environmental compliance. JAMSHEDPUR – A newly established task force has been established by local authorities to implement a comprehensive campaign to prevent illegal mining operations and enforce…

[sukunasteeth]

The Pleasure's All Mine - Chapter One

Based on this post from @winterrbluess

If Shibuya had a pulse, it would be at the rate of a hummingbird's wings.

The human race operates at a speed that oftentimes seems too quick to catch up with. It had been that way ever since you moved to the city for work about three years ago.

You came for a corporate job made up of ink black suits and pencil skirts, smiles that felt more on the side of uncanny valley than they did of genuine kindness, and handshakes from skin cold with carpal tunnel. You lived a corporate life. Everything is muted tones of tan and relies heavily on the concept of "modernizing". You wake up, go to work, go home, work on what you couldn't finish at the office, fall asleep on your colorless coffee table, and wake up to your alarm going off what feels like hours too soon. It was a cyclical cycle.

And the day you broke it, happened to be the day you met Sukuna.

~

You noticed the new shop on the end of the street maybe three weeks ago. It was so out of place, after all. The building was the only non-skyscraper to be seen on the block. It was a shriveled up little thing, built out of chipping brick that seemed to teeter on the edge of dilapidation from the inability to meet building codes. Overgrown ivy crawled up the sides of it and it still had plots of dirt in the front for planting as opposed to concrete and metal benches. 

When you had first seen the For Sale sign a few months ago, you were sure they were going to tear it down and pave over it- happy to be rid of the only spot of character left in the business district. Then a new sign appeared over the door, one that looked hand carved out of wood and haphazardly painted over so that you could make out the words "Carnation King".

It’s funny, flowers had never been much of an interest to you. You had seen them as just another task to take care of when you returned home after a long day. Even filling a vase with water always sounded like more effort than it was worth. But as the days blend together from monotony, you find yourself desperate for color.

You changed your walking route to work so that you can pass by the shop everyday. You knew nothing about flowers. You could barely tell a rose bud apart from a tulip, but that didn't stop you from ogling at the new bouquets and potted plants that lined the sidewalk every time you passed them. Signs made out of toothpicks and painters tape said words like “Butterfly Ranunculus” and “Brown-Eyed Susan” and learning their names became one of your favorite things to do. You never stepped foot inside, and yet the flower shop was now one of your happy places. 

You would meander by on your lunches and watch the butterflies play. You would walk by in the morning and smell freshly watered earth still hanging in the air. On your way home, when the sun was at its fullest shine, you would walk beneath the misters hung under the lip of the roof, and the coolness of the water droplets left behind on your skin saw you all the home. 

You hadn’t realized how important the flower shop was to your daily routine until the day it was interrupted. 

It happened to be one of the only days you had been forced by your workload to stay past sunset for overtime. You didn’t do it for the money, you did it because your boss had asked you nicely. But as you finally exit the office building for the night, you find yourself regretting staying so late. 

You hated walking home in the dark. Even though Japan was notorious for its low crime rates, that didn't mean it was an innocent city. After 9pm, your street was notorious for being a ghost town. The only signs of life were the few work martyrs left in their floor to ceiling window offices- acting as makeshift streetlights. There were only a few lights on the way home, and their solidarity only seemed to pronounce the darkness along the rest of the empty roadside. When you were just an intern, before you got better hours and were finally promoted to the shining 9-5 that everyone dreams about, you used to take your heels off and sprint back to your apartment. Always weary of what you couldn’t see. At the time, you didn’t know that the scariest people don’t have to hide in the dark. 

You hadn’t planned on walking past the shop that night. It was closed. It had to be. Normal flower shops closed well before 7 pm let alone 9. But the moment you touch the sidewalk outside your building, you see light glowing against the dense night. 

The shop at the end of the street was draped in tiny fairy lights. Every square inch of brick was twinkling slowly, glimmering like resting fireflies. It looked almost otherworldly in comparison to the towering pitch black shadows of corporate offices surrounding it. In fact, the effect of the glowing lights against the mirror windows made it look like the shop was hanging in space. 

Outside, the flowers you had walked past in the afternoon had been replaced with new pots, overflowing with buds you had never seen before. The usual delicate smell of Honeysuckle and Roses was now one of the sweetest scents you had ever experienced, so sweet, you could almost taste it on your tongue. Warm golden light floods out of the shop's window and the numerous white and yellow petals seem to gather and hold onto its dull shine. 

You didn’t even realize you had completely abandoned your original plan of taking the shortcut home until you were standing in front of the Carnation King with your eyes entranced on the display before you. One flower in particular had caught your eye, a huge luscious display of delicate tow-colored petals, tall with endless growth and reaching towards the moonlight as though it’s been waiting all day to see it. You can’t help but reach out to touch, and yet just before your fingertips make it, you feel coolness trickling onto your hand, breaking the spell that the lights and colors had placed on you. 

 "Evening Primrose." 

The suddenness of a voice beside you should have put you in fight or flight mode. It should have been a cold bucket of water to the face. Adrenaline spiking, you should be sprinting in the opposite direction. Instead, you found the tranquil trance that the flowers had put you in to have a lasting effect. 

You blink at the man who seemed to appear out of thin air standing next to you, and the first thing you notice are his eyes. Such a dark shade of golden rich hazel-brown, they were nearly shining like two cuts of Cat’s-Eye. They gleamed suspicion. 

He was much taller than you, but where most are lanky you can see strong muscles and broad shoulders. Collared sleeves rolled halfway up his arms revealed skin kissed rich and deep by prolonged sunshine. Tattoos slithered around his wrists and had made their way to his sculptured face, meticulously drawn black lines frame an annoyed expression. When you see the rest of him, you’re certainly not expecting to notice tufts from a head of true strawberry blond hair hang in his frigid gaze.

In one of his hands is a water can, still pouring trickling water onto your momentarily petrified fingertips, and in the other hand is a cigarette, only a third of the way lit. 

The sight of him takes you so far back, if the sound of his voice wasn’t still echoing in your head you might not have remembered that he had even said anything to you. 

"I'm sorry?" You pull your hand away from the water spray, drying it on your slacks.

The man takes half a drag of the cigarette before he answers you. Slow and unrushed. "They're called Evening Primrose.” He speaks through a cloud of tobacco smoke, glancing at the flowers that had caught your eye. His lip twitches slightly, "Need full sunlight but only bloom in moonlight. Fickle bastards." 

Okay. Owner. Mean owner. Unexpectedly rough-and-tumble looking for being the caretaker of a flower shop. You glance at his apron, but you don’t find a name tag. He takes a step back while you’re searching for it, but he only moves far enough to start watering the next plant on the table. 

You look back to the Evening Primrose, and even the smell of the burning cigarettes is nothing in the face of the scent that had pulled you in earlier. The two flavors mix like a tea garden on fire. You caress the petals once more, unthinkingly. 

"They smell incredible." You mutter, mostly to yourself. 

"Not them.” His voice is colder than his eyes. He flicks a bit of ash onto the cement behind him, and tilts his head in the direction of a different bush, one that’s even bigger than the healthy Primrose, with hundreds of tiny buds that flutter in the nighttime air. “That'd be her." 

"”Her”?" You repeat, wondering if you heard the man correctly. 

"Night Jasmine." He answers in return. 

As standoffish as he was, you still found yourself making mental notes of the names he had given you. When you look at the Night Jasmine directly, it’s clear that the wind was sweeping that delicious smell straight from the direction of its honey-hued petals. You’re not sure you had seen plants like this at even the most expensive hotels and events that you had been invited to. Maybe tiny cuttings, but nothing to this size and level of lush. 

"Well she's very pretty." You reply softly, letting out an airy laugh through your nose at his use of pronouns. The man doesn’t even crack a smile in return, his eyes giving you a pointed once over. 

“And invasive.” He adds, resting his gaze on yours once again. 

There’s a thick silence that follows after, during which you consider apologizing. For what? You were unsure, but somehow standing in his towering shadow and feeling his accusing eyes had you feeling like you were in the wrong for merely existing in his presence. 

Before you can think to just turn around, take off your heels, and sprint home like you had years ago, his voice demands your attention again. 

"So,” he says, “you gonna tell me why you’re stalking me, then?"

Now, surely, you were hearing things. 

"E-Excuse me?" 

He seems to take in your shock with some thought while he takes another languid puff, "You come by here every single day,” He lets the smoke go from his lungs, ”but you never buy a thing. In fact, you never even come in." The tone of his voice tilts towards annoyance. “You just stand at the window and pout like some sad puppy.” 

"I-I work in the building next door?" You offer, bewildered by the entire situation. Were you dreaming? Had you fallen asleep at your desk and given yourself some sort of stress-induced nightmare?

"Hmm," The man takes you in without breaking your gaze, tilting his head to the side while he takes another drag of his cigarette. "You don't seem like the pencil pusher type to me."

You’re not sure why that comment makes you defensive. In retrospect, it was even a compliment to you. You hated sitting at a desk all day, watching the sun rise and set over a stack of papers. But you had worked hard to get to the position you were in now and it wasn’t the first time a man had told you that you didn’t look like you belonged. Before you can catch yourself in the name of politeness you find yourself scoffing out, "Sorry, but you don't seem like much of a florist to me."

The silence returns. You watch as the disdainful glint to his eyes shatters, and is replaced with a split second of surprise. He blinks and it’s only then that you realize how much larger this man is in comparison to you. If you had seen him walking down the street, you’d probably think to yourself “I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side” and yet here you were, on his bad-getting-worse side from the moment your eyes met. 

Or so you had thought. But, as the antithesis of anger crosses his hardened features, and an unexpected bitten-back grin takes the place of his glower, you’re not sure what to think anymore. 

He snorts out a laugh, finally releasing you from the cold grasp of his unbreakable gaze. He takes another step back and focuses his attention on watering the flowers again. "Touche." 

The cigarette gets flicked from his fingertips and he smears it beneath his boot into a tiny canal of rocks separating the soil of the garden beds from the cement of the sidewalk. 

"So, you gonna buy something then? Or just stand there with that strange look on your face all night?" He tilts his head to mirror your stance, but the amused grin remains in place of your confused gape. “I close in five minutes.”

“I have to hand it to you, you’re a fantastic salesman.” You’ve never met a stranger more brash and uncaring, so you were giving it a shot in return. It only serves to further his easy smiles.

“Am I not offering the right thing?” Now apparently after confirming to himself that you weren’t a threat, his tone of voice seems almost playful. It only serves to further your confusion. “Hmm, a lock of my hair maybe?” 

“I am not a stalker!” 

“Then buy something.” 

You take a deep breath through your nose. Feeling the need to save face when you haven’t done anything wrong in the first place. Yet, the thought of turning away empty handed had embarrassment threatening to heat up your neck and cheeks. You didn't care if you had to drop a pretty penny, you just didn't want to boost this man's ego.

"Those." You point to the nearest flower, another pot of proud blossoms sprouting from a stem unseen past the abundant greenery of strong leaves. Soft moon colored petals unfurl at the top, and sprouting from the center are tiny, deep yellow pollen covered buds. 

The man follows your pointed finger and graces your choice with all of one second before he turns back to his watering. "Not those." He decides flatly. 

You’ve never made a more difficult purchase. "Why not?" 

"Casablanca Lilies need constant care. A white-collar like you couldn't keep up. And I don't raise 'em so people can kill 'em."

"I think I can take care of a plant, thank you." You retort, sarcasm oozing off your sentence. 

It seems you can only really catch this man’s attention when your tone has a touch of negativity, because suddenly he’s back to watching you. 

There’s a pregnant pause before his next words. He searches nothing but your eyes for a moment, as if to gauge. 

"Wanna bet?" He cocks a brow. 

And it angers you how handsome you find this annoying, pompous, self-entitled stranger. 

"Bet?” You repeat incredulously. “Are you making a sale or trying to fight?” 

Instantly, as if you were offering the two scenarios as possible options, his smile darkens and he takes a step forward instead of continuing his line of watering. 

That was all the reply you needed. You had seen the movies. The documentaries. Handsome men, provoking women, hungry eyes, it never added up to something good. So that was your que to keep walking straight past him and go home. 

“Right, I don’t need this.” You scoff. 

And yet, just before you're able to step aside him, like a true businessman, he says just the right thing to keep you there.

"So I'm right then?" 

The sound of the droplets from the watering can against the cement in place of your footsteps has you cringing in self-disappointment. You force your head to turn and meet his infuriating amusement. 

"What's the bet?" You grind out from clenched teeth. His eyes fall to your mouth, and he takes a pointed second to look at your bite before he steps away from you and back to the place where your interaction began. He reaches beside the huge Evening Primrose bush to reveal a small green potted sapling with the same leaf pattern. 

He holds it out to you and you reach out to take the little thing like you’re scared for its safety. 

"Come back in two weeks. If it's alive, I'll give you the lilies for free." The calmness in his tone of voice doesn't match the excitement glittering in his dark hazel-brown eyes. "And if it's dead, you owe me." He adds, rather nonchalantly. 

"Owe you what?" You squint your eyes at him, maybe then you could see the little horns that match his devilish little grin. 

He shrugs, almost too innocently, "A favor. Haven't thought of it yet." The stranger gives you one last once over, but this one leaves the strangest chill running down your spine. His eyes seem to follow it, as if he can see it rattling through you. "Should I? You're so confident you'll win, I didn't think I'd have to."

Now it was your turn to look him up and down, tattoos, scars and a face that seemed too comfortable with that murderous look he had first given you.

"...There's no way you're just a florist."

The comment is completely ignored as he leans forward, invading your airspace a little too close for comfort, and murmuring the words "Yes or no?" with a thick sugar coating. 

"You're on." You hope your own words convey your complete disdain for him… and not that tiny glimmer of attraction you feel prickling under your skin. 

A surprised laugh seems to escape him, as though he didn't expect you to make the deal. "You're either quite confident in yourself or a damn fool." 

Like a rabbit bearing tiny teeth in the face of a lion, you mirror him and lean in closer until there's only a small space between the two of you. "Maybe I just like showing up cocky men."

"Oh, and I'm gonna love a favor from such a mouthy brat." You're lucky he pulls away from you after he practically purrs his threat. There's another thoughtful pause before he reaches into his apron pocket and pulls out his pack of cigarettes again.

"Two weeks. I know where you work too now." He lights another, and examines the cherry after he takes the first drag, smiling like it just told him a joke. “Don’t forget.” 

[petrova075]

The driver-mechanic of the Furia crew.

Since the first days of the special military operation, the crew of the tank with the call sign "Furia" has been successfully carrying out the assigned tasks of supporting the infantry, opening up enemy observation and strongholds, and destroying the nationalists' living force.

Earlier we told you about the tank commander, Guards Staff Sergeant "Z", who lost a leg as a result of a mine explosion. To get out of the damaged equipment at that moment, he was helped by the mechanic-driver, Guards lieutenant (then junior sergeant) "D". It is about him that we will tell you.

"D" was born and grew up in the Kizhinga district of the Republic of Buryatia of the Russian Federation. After graduating from school, he was drafted into the Armed Forces. Conscripted service was in a tank brigade as a mechanic-driver. After being discharged from the reserve "D" entered the Buryat State Agricultural Academy. After studying for several years, he decided to transfer to the correspondence department and go to serve under contract in a tank brigade, where he was appointed to the position of mechanic-driver of a tank platoon.

In a special military operation Guards Lieutenant "D" takes part from the first days. During this time he managed to show his skill in driving a combat vehicle, as well as ingenuity, courage and bravery, for which he was noted by the higher command and was awarded the Order of St. George - St. George Cross IV degree. During the special operation in 2022 was awarded the regular rank of junior sergeant, and already this year "D" received lieutenant epaulettes and promotion.

February 2023 was one of the toughest months for the soldiers of the tank brigade. There were dense battles all along the front line, one after another orders were received to take enemy strongholds. The crew of the tank with the call sign "Furia", under the control of the Guards junior sergeant (at that time) "D", went out confidently and clearly worked out the set goals.

Near Ugledar, while performing the task of escorting a remote demining engineering vehicle to a minefield, the seventy-two was hit by an enemy guided anti-tank missile. As a result of the hit, the gunner-operator, Guards Sergeant "B" and the tank commander, Guards Staff Sergeant "Z", were severely wounded. Despite the barrage of mortar fire, "D" was not confused for a second and proceeded to evacuate the crew. First pulled out of the fighting vehicle "B" and carried him to the nearest shelter, located two hundred meters away, then returned for the commander. After providing first aid to his wounded battle comrades, the fighter went back to the tank and attempted to make contact to request assistance in evacuation. However, there was no communication, and then the tanker decided to move to the nearest brigade positions. Overcoming about five kilometers, "D" was able to reach their own and report on the wounded comrades and their condition. Afterwards, together with the evacuation team, he returned to the location of "Z" and "B". Thanks to the courageous and decisive actions of Guards Junior Sergeant "D", the wounded were saved and quickly evacuated without jeopardizing their lives.

For heroism, personal courage, bravery and selflessness shown in the performance of military duty during a special military operation, Junior Lieutenant "D" was awarded the Order of Courage.

[nicklloydnow]

“Nearly all the accused had been savagely beaten. Bukharin was spared this but was visibly a broken man. From his prison cell he had written a note to Stalin: 'Koba, why is my death necessary for you?' But Stalin wanted blood. Constantly consulted by Chief Prosecutor Andrei Vyshinski and Vasili Ulrikh at the end of the court's working day, he ordered that the world's press should be convinced of the veracity of the confessions before sentences were passed. Many Western journalists were indeed hoodwinked. The verdict was announced on 13 March: nearly all the defendants were to be shot.

Two days later Stalin approved a further operation to purge 'anti-Soviet elements’. This time he wanted 57,200 people to be arrested across the USSR. Of these, he and Yezhov had agreed, fully 48,000 were to be rapidly tried by troiki and executed. Yezhov, by now practised at the management of such operations, attended to his duties with enthusiasm. Through spring, summer and autumn 1938 the carnage continued as the NKVD meat-grinder performed its grisly task on Stalin's behalf. Having put Yezhov's hand at the controls and ordered him to start the machine, Stalin could keep it running as long as it suited him.

Stalin never saw the Lubyanka cellars. He did not even glimpse the meat-grinder of the operations. Yezhov asked for and received vast resources for his work. He needed more than his executive officials in the NKVD to complete it. The Great Terror required stenographers, guards, executioners, cleaners, torturers, clerks, railwaymen, truck drivers and informers. Lorries marked ‘Meat' or 'Vegetables’ took victims out to rural districts such as Butovo near Moscow where killing fields had been prepared. Trains, often travelling through cities by night, transported Gulag prisoners to the Russian Far North, to Siberia or to Kazakhstan in wagons designed for cattle. The unfortunates were inadequately fed and watered on the journey, and the climate - bitterly cold in the winter and monstrously hot in summer - aggravated the torment. Stalin said he did not want the NKVD's detainees to be given holiday-home treatment. The small comforts that had been available to him in Novaya Uda, Narym, Solvychegodsk or even Kureika were systematically withheld. On arrival in the labour camps they were kept constantly hungry. Yerhov's dieticians had worked out the minimum calorie intake for them to carry out heavy work in timber felling, gold mining or building construction; but the corruption in the Gulag was so general that inmates rarely received their full rations - and Stalin made no recorded effort to discover what conditions were really like for them.

Such was the chaos of the Great Terror that despite Stalin's insistence that each victim should be formally processed by the troiki, the number of arrests and executions has not been ascertained with exactitude. Mayhem precluded such precision. But all the records, different as ther are about details, point in the same general direction. Altogether it would seem that a rough total of one and a half million people were seized by the NKVD in 1937-8. Only around two hundred thousand were eventually released. To be caught in the maw of the NKVD usually meant to face a terrible sentence. The troiki worked hard at their appalling task. The impression got around - or was allowed to get around - that Stalin used nearly all of the arrestees as forced labourers in the Gulag. In fact the NKVD was under instructions to deliver about half of its victims not to the new camps in Siberia or north Russia but to the execution pits outside most cities. Roughly three quarters of a million persons perished under a hail of bullets in that brief period of two years. The Great Terror had its ghastly logic.” - Robert Service, ‘Stalin: A Biography’ (2004) [p. 355 - 356]

[militaryleak]

Amphibious Exercise Cobra Gold 2024 Showcases Regional Naval Collaboration

In a display of international cooperation and military prowess, Admiral Adung Phan-iam, commander-in-chief of the Royal Thai Navy, Rear Admiral Christopher D. Stone, commander of Expeditionary Strike Group Seven, Task Force 76, Amphibious Force of the United States Navy, and Rear Admiral Cho Choong-Ho, commander of Mine/Amphibious Flotilla Five of the Republic of Korea, converged at the AMPHIBEX-JFEO (Amphibious Exercise-Joint Forcible Entry Operation) on March 1, 2024. This joint operation is a crucial component of the renowned international combined exercise, Cobra Gold 2024, held at the Naval Training Range No. 15, Hat Yao, Sattahip District, Chonburi Province. The backbone of this robust force is comprised of the Royal Thai Marine Corps (RTMC), deploying cutting-edge assets such as the AAV7A1 RAM/RS amphibious vehicle, modernized by the Thai company Chaiseri, and the resilient Ukrainian BTR-3E1 8x8 wheeled armored vehicle.

In a display of international cooperation and military prowess, Admiral Adung Phan-iam, commander-in-chief of the Royal Thai Navy, Rear Admiral Christopher D. Stone, commander of Expeditionary Strike Group Seven, Task Force 76, Amphibious Force of the United States Navy, and Rear Admiral Cho Choong-Ho, commander of Mine/Amphibious Flotilla Five of the Republic of Korea, converged at the…

[ailtrahq]

The co-founder of AirBit Club — a cryptocurrency pyramid scheme that swindled investors of over $100 million — has been sentenced to 12 years in prison for his role in a $100 million "pyramid scheme"  that purported to be involved in crypto mining. The sentencing comes nearly seven months after Rodriguez — the co-founder of AirBit Club — pleaded guilty to wire fraud conspiracy charges in a United States District Court in March. In a Sept. 26 statement, Damian Williams, United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York said Rodriguez “preyed” on unsophisticated investors with false promises that their funds were invested into legitimate cryptocurrency trading and mining operations.“Instead of investing on behalf of investors, Rodriguez hid victims’ money in a complex laundering scheme using Bitcoin, an attorney trust account, and international front and shell companies and used victims’ money to line his own pockets.”District Court Judge George B. Daniels imposed an additional three years of supervised release for Rodriguez, which will follow his 12-year prison sentence..@HSINewYork's El Dorado Task Force, the largest anti-money laundering task force in the US, is proud to have played a vital role in delivering justice to the victims of Pablo Renato Rodriguez and the fraudulent "AirBit Club” Ponzi Scheme #HomelandSecurityInvestigations #HSINY https://t.co/UVco4ai3rI— HSI New York (@HSINewYork) September 26, 2023 The convicted fraudster was ordered to pay a forfeiture of $65 million and to forfeit other items, including a total of 3,800 Bitcoins (BTC) (worth $100 million), Rodriguez’s Irvine residence in California, $900,000 in U.S. dollars seized from the property and nearly $1 million previously held in escrow for a Gulfstream Jet.The other defendants — Dos Santos, Scott Hughes, Cecilia Millan and Karina Chairez have also pleaded guilty and are awaiting sentencing verdicts.AirBit Club was launched in 2015. Prospective investors were told that AirBit Club earned returns on cryptocurrency mining and trading and that victims would earn passive, guaranteed daily returns on any membership purchased.However, as early as 2016, club members wishing to withdraw proceeds were met with excuses, delays and hidden fees and told they must recruit new members if they wanted to receive the returns.The operators of the club, including Rodriguez were charged with fraud and money laundering by the DOJ in August 2020 after a probe by the United States Homeland Security Investigations.In 2022, $7.6 billion in funds were lost to cryptocurrency ponzi and pyramid schemes, according to a June 28 report by blockchain intelligence firm TRM Labs. Source

[galaxysharks]

If I Could write the next Marvel Tv Show.

Premise: Shield/Sword has been keeping an eye on the population since the Accords were signed. They have identified several 'potentially dangerous' individuals (read:powerful and unaligned) and send out a representative to 'acquire' them by any means necessary. We follow one handler as he locates and assembles a team of these individuals.

The team:

Name: Robert Westfield

Alias: Handler 17

Age: 42

Base of Operations: Shield/Sword Headquarters

Bio: Handler 17 has been assigned the district of Manhattan to form a task force of powerful, but controlled individuals to be used at the disposal of his leaders. His objectives become complicated as his sense of empathy for his team makes callous control difficult, and he seeks better accommodations for his new family. #damnit #they're mine now I guess? # hey Fuck you Mike from sector 3, these are my kids.

Name: Jing Li

Alias: 幽灵骑士

Age: 23

Base of Operations: Chinatown, Manhattan

Bio: Ghostrider is a Chinese-American Trans woman that has recently come into her powers. The Spirit of Vengeance was summoned by the fury and hatred of a mob that cornered her behind a nearby bakery. Sparks from the spirits appearance ignited the loose flour in the air causing an explosion and leaving all but Li dead. With the assailants dead, the Spirit attached to the only survivor. Li lost an eye but gained an eternal protector. While mostly dormant, the Spirit can cause bursts of intense fury and strength which is only increasing as it lashes out. 17 tracks her for several days, asking locals but being misled at every turn by protective neighbors. He eventually finds her after the Spirit lashes out and nearly chars a burger to the bodega she buys mints from.

Name: Octavia Walsh & Stasis

Alias: Stasis

Age: 7

Base of Operations: Broadway, Manhattan, originally near West End in London.

Bio: a premature and incredibly sickly child, Octavia spent much of her early years fevered and delirious. Hacking into her medical records, she was found to be an ideal candidate for Bio-Mend, a shady organization with genetic testing facilities and a sector for bio-hazard removal as a front. Bio-Mend used her parents desperation to convince them to allow them to take Octavia to America to study her 'unique' biology and to cure her underdeveloped organs. Using their access to clean-up from symbiote destruction paths, the company spends years creating a variety of artificially combined specimens. While several escaped and began to destroy the facility, Stasis a purple and orange symbiote, scheduled to be destroyed for desplays of cowardice, latched on to the injured child and used their small size to access vents to escape into the streets. Now bonded, a separation of the two would certainly cause the death of both. 17 finds them hunting for mice and hiding inside awnings of building. Octavia seems only to speak to Stasis, and they remain skittish of noises and people.

Name: Hans Bauer

Alias: Dextrous

Age: 77

Base of Operations: Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan

Bio: Hans is a mechanical expert that repairs vintage toys and restores furniture. An alpha-level mutant with telekinetic abilites, Hans uses six broken mannequin hands to replace and supplement his own as they have withered away over time, becoming paralyzed in the process. His main source of joy is seeing how much his shop and his arms unnerve people. Fondly remembering when he cared for his nieces and nephews back in Germany, Hans frequently entertains local youths and passers by with his elaborate puppet shows on the street by his shop. 17 initially contacts him to build furniture for the base, but takes him on fully as he realized how ill equipped to care for his charges he is.

Name: Jose Spazey

Alias: Doppler

Age: 32

Base of Operations: East Harlem, Manhattan

Bio: Jose is a mutant with a sonic voice. The effects of the wave narrow and increase the farther they go, rather than decrease. In his youth, Jose honed his control by using his voice to explode paint cans from high-rises, or stalling birds at the park. Currently working as a bartender, Jose mostly uses his powers to break up fights or to discourage crime that bothers him. Handler 17 found him when he witnessed him shatter the pavement under a getaway car's wheels by whistling. Jose enjoys theater but hasn't gone since he saw a blob of 'oh hell no, that thing ate a damn dog' starring out from one of the theater signs.

[earthstellar]

Wholesome Humanformers G1 1980 AU - Small Town Struggles 

The Autobots run a locally owned and operated community centre; They provide resources, social care, various educational services, and other activities in their neighbourhood, which historically had been a fairly successful industrial town until the steel, automotive, and mining industries all dried up. 

The area hasn’t really economically recovered since then, and seeing a need for mutual aid, a handful of locals stepped up to fill the gap. 

“Cybertron” is the name of the old disco venue which shut down, which they eventually turned into their community centre hub before it could be demolished. They kept the name because it’s locally identifiable, and they had to keep some of the cheesy 70s interior decorations because it was too expensive to re-fit the entire place, so it works out fine! 

The team, which consists of social care support workers, tutors, and local volunteers, were dubbed “The Autobots” based on the very first community service they opened: Free Thursday afternoon mechanic and auto repair lessons with Richard (Ratchet), a retiree who used to work at the now-closed auto factory.

Opie (Optimus) was a teacher before so many families moved away due to the collapsing local economy; The school he worked for shrank so much that it was absorbed into a neighbouring education district, and he decided to take more direct action and arrange a community centre and local support for the few remaining people. 

Peter (Prowl) is an accountant who used to balance the books for one of the steel mills in the area, but once that shut down, he ended up doing bank telling for a while and he hated it. Now, he helps manage the community centre budget and helps set up fundraisers to secure funds so that they can keep providing much-needed support to those left behind in a dead job market.

Elisa (Elita-1) is Opie’s wife, and used to be a secretary at the local education district before it was dissolved due to low student numbers. Now, she runs the majority of the community centre’s daily operations, but once she started getting further along into her pregnancy, she’s since hired Alice (Arcee) to come in and help her with some of the administrative work. 

Richard (Ratchet) was forced into an earlier retirement than planned, and now provides mechanic and automotive engineering lessons to younger people remaining in the area, with Sam (Sideswipe) and Stephen (Sunstreaker) being his star students-- When they aren’t lighting cans of WD-40 on fire in the parking lot, anyway.  

Jerrick (Jazz) used to teach P.E. at the same school Opie used to teach at, and when he was offered the opportunity to provide sports education and support some basic physical therapy sessions at the community centre, he was happy to jump ship and join the team. 

Mandy (Moonracer) formerly worked at the local public library, until its funding collapsed as a result of not enough residents remaining to contribute to the public service taxes that kept the doors open. She salvaged as many books as she could, and has set up a decently sized community library with story telling events for the younger kids and a book club for the adults. 

Martin (Ultra Magnus) maintains the buildings and premises, acting as a sort of unofficial security guard since he’s always around. Opie is his brother, and they both have a fierce pride in their small community. Martin is often called in to mediate in conflicts amongst the younger kids, as they all respect (and mildly fear) his no-nonsense but fair approach to nearly everything. 

Bobby (Bumblebee) is one of the local kids that frequents the community centre, taking advantage of every opportunity he gets-- No matter what it is! Sometimes his willingness to jump in to any task at hand gets him in trouble, but generally he’s managed to endear himself to everyone around him. He doesn’t realise that the adults around him consider him to be one of their few sources of hope for the future. 

[jacensolodjo]

“During the Shakhty trial in 1928 they had focused on mining engineers in order to explain production failures in heavy industry. Now they sought agricultural specialists to blame. In the spring of 1931 secret police operatives in the western Ukrainian city of Vinnytsia disclosed and eliminated a “saboteur counter-revolutionary organization,” the “Peasants’ Labour Party of Podolia.” Most of the sixteen people arrested for “organized acts of sabotage in all sectors of agriculture: planning, land administration, crediting, machine supplies etc” were agronomists. Most had been members of the Podolian branch of the All-Ukrainian Agricultural Society, an institution set up in the more optimistic year of 1923. Now they stood accused of seeking the “overthrow of Soviet rule and the establishment of a bourgeois democratic republic.” Although none of their biographies appeared obviously counter-revolutionary, they were educated people who had connections in both town and country—precisely the category of suspect that interested the OGPU most. Stepan Cherniavsky was an agronomist Ukrainian government since the days of Petliura, and had been chairman of the Podolia Land Office. Iukhym Pidkui-Mukha had been secretary of the same organization. Ivan Oliinyk had been a professor at the Agricultural Institute in Kamianets-Podilskyi. Others worked on agricultural credit issues or as experts in various fields of agriculture and husbandry. Not only could this educated, accomplished group be blamed for the multiple agricultural failures, its members could also be plausibly accused of spreading counter-revolutionary ideas among the rural peasants in the countryside. The trial was heavily covered by the Soviet press; most of the accused would spend between three and ten years in the Gulag. This search for scapegoats was effective, but only in a narrow sense: the arrest of the “enemy” agronomists and the expulsion of some party members helped explain Ukraine’s failure to meet its quotas, at least to the rest of the party, but it did not produce more grain. Angry telegrams from Moscow did not produce more grain. Nor did Mikoyan’s declaration, in October 1931, that the year’s plan still had to be fulfilled, whatever the weather, so any regions unaffected by drought should contribute more. This was perhaps unfair, as even he conceded—“people are working hard…and now we demand more”—but it hardly mattered, since this order could not make more bread appear on the shelves either. Both threats and persuasion were failing. That left coercion—and in December 1931, Stalin and Molotov made coercion the policy: collective farms that had not met their grain quotas would have to repay any outstanding loans, and return any tractors or other equipment that had been leased to them from the machine tractor stations. Their spare cash—including that intended to buy seeds—would be confiscated. Molotov, dispatched to Kharkiv to explain the new rules, showed little mercy. He pushed aside any complaints about bad weather and a poor harvest. The problem was not lack of grain, he told the Ukrainian party leaders: the problem was that they were incompetent. They were badly organized, they had failed to mobilize, and they had not managed to collect as much grain as they should have done. In the districts he harangued collective farm leaders, calling them “agents of the kulaks.” He repeated Stalin’s threat to take away their tractors while at the same time dangling the promise of more manufactured goods for farms that met the state targets. Upon returning to Moscow, Molotov and Stalin sent another missive to Kosior, who was on vacation in Sochi. They ordered him back to Ukraine and demanded that he force the republic to meet the grain requirements as planned. In the wake of this acrimonious meeting, the Ukrainian Politburo met again at the end of December. Once more the Ukrainian communists paid lip service to the Five Year Plan. They agreed to collect 8.3 million tonnes of grain, although everyone in the room must have known that it was impossible. They declared that they themselves would go out to the villages to supervise the procurement, although each one of them must have known that would make no difference either. To increase the efficiency of the whole operation, they reorganized Ukraine into six collection districts, and put a single party leader in charge of each one. All of them must have felt deep anxiety about the task ahead. Perhaps they were reassured by the news that each district boss would receive emergency powers, including the power to sack anyone who stood in the way of fulfilling the plan: anyone who failed would be able to place some of the blame, yet again, on scapegoats. But at the same time the stakes were raised. The harvest had been unsatisfactory in the Urals, the Volga, Kazakhstan and western Siberia. That meant the Ukrainians and others in the western USSR would have to collect not only their original grain quota, but also an extra amount of seed grain, to be used for spring planting in other regions. To an impossible quota, in other words, the state had added an even more impossible new demand. In the spring of 1932 desperate officials, anxious for their jobs and even their lives, aware that a new famine might be on its way, began to collect grain wherever and however they could. Mass confiscations occurred all across the USSR. In Ukraine they took on an almost fanatical intensity. Visiting the Moldovan autonomous republic that was then part of Ukraine, a Pravda correspondent was shocked to discover the lengths to which grain procurement officials would now go. In a private letter to a colleague, he wrote of “openly counter-revolutionary attacks” on the peasantry: “The searches are usually conducted at night, and they search fiercely, deadly seriously. There is a village just on the border with Romania where not a single house has not had its stove destroyed.” Worse, anyone found in possession of any bread or grain at all—even the poorest of peasants—was dragged from his or her home and stripped of their possessions, just as had happened to the kulaks in the months before. But this was unusual: “Very rarely did they find a more or less solid amount, usually the searches finished with the confiscation of the very last few pieces of bread in the smallest possible amount.” No one in authority questioned the wisdom of this behaviour: the fact that the OGPU and Communist Party officials allowed journalists, even those loyal to the regime, to observe the confiscation of grain meant that, at the highest levels, they were convinced of the legitimacy of what they were doing.”

Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine by Anne Applebaum

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

How President Snow controls everyone in Panem

Something in the Hunger Games series that's been on my mind is how manipulated and controlled people in Panem really are. Not just in the Districts, but the victors and the Capitol as well. The emotional manipulation and psychological torture is so calculated and deliberate and it honestly intrigues me so much.

So there's the obvious point about how the Districts were pitted against each other and therefore wouldn't collaborate to rebel, so I won't go in to detail about that. However there's another way that Snow keeps them from rebelling that I've been thinking about. From the beginning, we can tell that things in the Districts (at least in 12) are considerably more primitive than things in the Capitol. Nothing is automated, not even the mines which produce the Capitol's coal, which seems strange given the Capitol is also negatively effected by that inefficiency. And we know that the Capitol has extremely advanced technology and the means to automate the Districts more, but they choose not to. And I believe this is because, by making even the simplest of tasks difficult, people in the Districts aren't going to have time or energy to focus on anything else. Katniss mentions that you can take out tesserae and get a supply of grain and oil, which obviously requires some form of work to produce something edible, seeing as you can't just eat grain and oil. It's the small details like this that make me wonder how much effort needs to be put into the smallest tasks. So by keeping the people of the Districts so focused on their physical needs, that gives them really no time to consider their emotional needs; in turn, keeping them from actually doing anything about their horrible situation.

The victors are controlled in a different way. Victors are dangerous because they know firsthand how disgusting the Capitol is, so they're the most likely to rebel. They have money and reliable shelter and resources, so their physical needs are met. Which means that they have more time to consider the fact that they're miserable. And they really are, because the Games are horrible enough to leave someone traumatized for life, and the fact that the Games never truly end only enhances that further. What I got out of analyzing the victors' behavior and how Snow operates was that every victor seemed to have a purpose, or a way to help Snow or the Capitol in some way. Haymitch, as he mentioned, was the example; a cautionary tale for victors who wanted to rebel. Finnick, and probably some other attractive victors, were prostituted and forced into different roles, providing the Capitol with money while also keeping the victors in line. There are some other ones that I won't mention but my point is that the victors all did something for the Capitol and were threatened with the lives of their loved ones, so they had to do it.

Citizens of the Capitol, upon first glance, seem to have much more freedom and luxury than anyone else in Panem. They seem shallow and vapid and blissfully ignorant, because they are, and I believe that's the point. They don't have much personal reason to rebel seeing as they have everything they could ever want or need, but surely they aren't blind enough to not notice how corrupt their government is. Well, they are blind, and that's fully intentional on Snow's part. By dressing up and parading around the tributes before the Games, it likens them to dolls or toys or something else that's not entirely real. This leaves a disconnect between the Capitol and the Districts because the Capitol sees the tributes as something to possess and admire from afar, but not quite real, so it's okay that twenty-three kids die every year. It's just a television show, after all, no need to get upset about it. And even though the tributes are obviously real people, citizens of the Capitol are manipulated to subconsciously think of them as fictional or not real. This makes the tragedy and horror of the Games considerably less apparent, which is why many Capitol citizens are described as vapid or dumb. 

This is even more apparent in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, when we see firsthand how deliberate and calculating Snow is. His obsessive need for control is so apparent. 

Tl;dr: Basically, Snow manipulates everyone in the country in different ways to keep them all from rebelling and I don't think it gets talked about enough. 

[townpostin]

District Task Force Intensifies Crackdown on Illegal Mining in Jamshedpur

Officials ordered to conduct joint operations against unauthorized mineral extraction and transport Deputy Commissioner calls for immediate action to curb unlawful activities across East Singhbhum. JAMSHEDPUR – District Magistrate and Deputy Commissioner Ananya Mittal chaired a crucial meeting of the District Mining Task Force at the Collectorate, issuing directives for a comprehensive crackdown…

[cpd5021]

Crossing Lines - Chapter Two

Thank you to everyone on the positive feedback for this new story line, I look forward to sharing the rest of it with you! Also, a special thanks to the Let’s Talk About Upstead group chat for giving me ideas, inspiration, and always tolerating my random questions. 

Note: Also, I thought I should mention, the only episode I have seen of FBI is Hailey’s so I’m just kind of winging it on writing OA and his story line...

It was Friday. I was officially done with my first week here in New York. Under different circumstances, this little stint might not have been so bad. I might have even found the change of pace momentarily enjoyable. But this wasn’t a vacation, this was a punishment and that much was painfully obvious every day that passed. Although, to be fair, maybe that was just my interpretation because the entire unit here had been nothing but welcoming and helped me to settle in quickly. My partner, OA, was a stark contrast to Jay. Much of New York was a stark contrast to what I was used to. Here, at least in the task force, it was more pant suits and policies over the knitty gritty police work I was used to back home. Home, Chicago....every single time it popped into my head I found myself swallowing down the now all too familiar burn in my throat. The first two days here had been a whirlwind of activity, we caught a case immediately and I was thankful for the distraction. I was met with late nights and early mornings as we worked to wrap up the case. One thing that was nice was the nearly unlimited resources the FBI had to gain information on their targets, it sped up the process greatly. Unfortunately, it made it a little too quick and my source of distraction was quickly resolved. My third day had been painfully slow. OA had walked me through filling out the necessary paperwork after we wrapped up the case and that had taken me all of two hours in the morning, leaving the rest of the afternoon to drag on. OA, bless him, had tried to break the lull by lingering by my borrowed desk, making a valid attempt at small talk. But my less than enthusiastic participation had finally led him to give up. He left me to my own devices yesterday, save for the necessary communication needed to aid in our next task, helping a local department with a small sex trafficking ring located in the Bronx. Today, he had gotten more pushy and quite frankly, called me out on my bullshit. I felt a small hint of a smirk tug at my mouth as I recalled this morning's events. 

“Here is a coffee, cream and sugar on the side because I’m not sure how you take it. Yet. Note the yet, because I fully intend on learning how you take your coffee as that’s what good partners do. I take mine with two creams, jot that down.”

My new partner finished his speech, nodding to the pad of paper on my desk before handing me the second cup of coffee. I looked up at him, eyebrows slightly raised, trying to figure out if this was his form of teasing or if he was just a pompous jerk. The smile in his eyes told me my first impression was correct. I returned his smile and nodded my thanks as I took the coffee from him. He sipped his, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes and looking satisfied with himself that I had at least taken the coffee. We headed to roll call then, another slightly unfamiliar habit of the task force. We didn’t do morning meetings in Intelligence unless there was something to, well, meet over. Although the hustle and bustle of New York kept them plenty busy and they always had something to go over. After roll call, we were sent down to the district courthouse to subpoena some records for a case we had picked up. 

“Don’t you guys have people for this?” 

I tried to break the silence that had lingered over us on our way to the courthouse. I knew I had been harsh the first few days as I was trying to come to terms with everything, but I also realized that it wasn’t in any way his fault I was here. 

“And here I thought cops did most of the leg work. You’re telling me you have people for this?”

He challenged, glancing over at me with a smirk on his face. I returned his look, happy to have somewhat broken the tension between us. 

“No, but you’re the FBI. Aren’t you supposed to have someone for everything?” 

He laughed wholeheartedly then, a sound I hadn’t yet heard. It was loud, booming out of his large build, but it was also slightly contagious and I found myself chuckling along beside him. 

“As a matter of fact, we do have people for this. But I asked if we could do it, get out of the office for a bit to give you a breather. It seems like it's been a rough week for you.”

His straightforwardness threw me off a bit as it was usually me being the one to be so blunt. I tilted my head a little as I looked out the window, considering how to proceed with the conversation. Straightforward as I may be, tiptoeing around my own thoughts and feelings was something I was a little too good at. 

“It was a bit of a surprise coming here to be honest with you.”

I looked over at him, trying to get a read, but he was still too new to me to be confident in my assessment. He nodded in understanding and I found myself wondering what this task force had been told about me beforehand. 

“So you didn’t sign up for this detail?” 

OA asked after a minute, coming to the conclusion I wasn’t going to elaborate further without being pushed. 

“No. My boss just picked me to come.” 

It wasn’t a total lie, he had been the one to pick me. I was just leaving out a few crucial details. 

“What did you do?” 

His question had my defenses rising up at a rapid pace, his words unknowingly echoing what Jay had said to me the night before I left. The thought had me swallowing hard as once again my throat burned. I felt a pang of pain at the thought of Jay, the way he had ended our conversation, how he had just walked away from me without so much as a second look. I had considered reaching out to him, my first night here all I wanted to do was meet him for a beer and do ‘our thing’ but that wasn’t an option as I was hundreds of miles away. To be honest, I’m not sure that will ever be an option again. I snapped out of it, realizing I had been lost in thought and he was waiting for me to reply. 

“What makes you think I did anything?”

I shot him a look, trying to keep myself composed. I knew he didn’t mean any harm with his question, he seemed like the type who just liked to know about his partner, what made them tick, and currently, that was me. 

“In my experience, one doesn’t get sent out of an elite unit without asking...without there being a cause. Unless your sergeant was trying to show off by sending his best detective. But from what I know about Hank Voight, he doesn’t seem like one to boast.”

He continued to throw me off each time he spoke and before I could stop myself I was rambling off my response.

“What do you know about Voight? Or why do you know about Voight? And I’m definitely not the best in the unit...”

I tacked on the end, feeling suddenly self conscious at his assumption. I felt another pang in my chest as I considered who I would list as the best in the unit. 

“I do my homework. When they told me I was getting a partner from Chicago, I wanted to see what I was up against. And you didn’t answer my first question...what did you do that got you sent here?”

Again with the straightforwardness. I was rarely on the receiving end of it and it was making me up my game. 

“He just thought it would be a good experience for me.”

I told the half truth again. Those hadn’t been Voight’s exact words, but I knew the intention was there. 

“Okay then, I’ll just have to guess. Did you blow a UC operation? Lose a stash of drugs? Oh, forbidden office romance gone wrong?”

His tone was teasing but his last option struck a nerve within me. I stared out the window as he continued to drive, taking in the towering structures surrounding us. 

“I’m very good at UC work, too organized to lose drugs, and nothing good comes from workplace romances so I avoid those at all costs.”

I glanced over to him and saw that this time my words had struck a chord in him, his grip on the steering wheel tightened and he nodded before we both fell into another silence. We returned to the office, dropping off the records we had picked up and returning to our respective desks. I pulled out my phone, letting out a sigh when I saw that it was once again empty from any messages or missed calls. I opened up my texting app, scrolling down to Jay’s feed and let my thumb hover over his name, wondering if I should reach out. I desperately wanted to talk to him, even if it was just some small talk. I wanted to know that Jay, my partner, my best friend, would be there when I got back and that I hadn’t inadvertently destroyed our relationship. Before I could muster up the courage to type out a message, OA was walking past my desk informing me we needed to roll on something. We spent the rest of the day working the case before handing it off to another unit within the force. 

Now, I sat in my hotel room, having freshly showered and changed into some baggy sweats. I was laying on the bed, propped up against my headboard and debating what to order for dinner when my phone buzzed from it’s spot on the nightstand. I snatched it up and felt my pulse increase when I saw who the text was from. 

“How’s New York?” 

I couldn’t get a read on Jay’s tone from his three word question, it was probably pointless to try through text anyways, but at least he had text. I scrambled to come up with a reply, my mind drawing a blank as all I could picture was our last meeting before I left. 

“It’s...not bad. I guess. Busy?”

I let out a breath, waiting for his reply. I just wanted to hear his voice. 

“Not really.” 

Came his quick reply. I took a deep breath before hitting the call button on my phone and hoping this wasn’t an awful idea. 

“Yo.” 

My heart stopped for a second when I heard his voice float through the phone, despite his short greeting. 

“Hey Jay...”

I all but whispered into the phone, my throat suddenly burning more than ever. I wished I was back home and could be standing in front of him, but for now this would have to do. 

“How are you?” 

I let out an emotionless chuckle at his question, unsure if he was just making small talk or if he wanted a deeper answer. I decided to play it lightly at first, test the waters. 

“Okay. You?”

I returned his question, hating the way my voice broke slightly with pent up emotion.

“Okay.”

His tone was cool, not quite standoffish, but certainly not the warm calm one I was used to. 

“That’s good.”

I could feel my heart breaking with each exchange of this conversation. He had changed, or rather his response to me had changed. Our close knit bond, the thing that works between us, felt more distant than ever. 

“Yep. Did you need something Hailey?”

His coldness shattered me and I found myself blinking back tears. 

“No...I’ll let you go. Sorry.” I breathed out my response, knowing my voice would give me away if I spoke any louder. Before he could reply I hung up the phone, tossing it onto the bed beside me as the tears began to flow freely down my face. I decided on skipping dinner and reached to shut the lamp off beside me, blinking into the darkness as I fought back the waves of emotion threatening to overcome me. 

I spent all of Saturday and most of Sunday in bed. I ignored the knocks from housekeeping and my only venture out was to raid the vending machine down the hall. I had been trying to tell myself to stay positive the first week, just keep my head down, stay within the lines, and get through this as quickly as possible. Now, as my alarm sounded beside me, I had lost all motivation to do much of anything. I forced myself out of bed, dragging myself into the bathroom to get ready for the day, only picking up my pace when I noticed that I was on the verge of being late. I walked into the office, forcing myself to return the smiles sent my way but knowing the smile never reached my eyes. I was once again numb and I was fully content with that fact. I was done with the anger and the pain that life had sent my way so I found the numbness a gentle relief from all of it. I had turned myself on autopilot, giving the appropriate responses when needed, contributing to conversations when it was unavoidable and just going about my tasks, staying between the lines as if my life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure I had much of a life to return to once I was done.

Halfway through my second week, I got a text from Voight, asking me to call him when I was available. I delayed as much as possible, but once my day at work was done I found myself once again locked away in my hotel room with no good excuse to avoid him any longer. With a sigh, I dialed his number, my heart stuttering with each ring. 

“Upton.”

His gravelly voice saying my name brought a shiver to my skin as our last conversation flashed into my mind. 

“Sarge..” I replied quietly, fighting to control my voice. 

“How are things?” 

The question tripped me up a little bit, he hadn’t said work or New York even, but things, which lead me to believe he was asking about more than my stint here. 

“Work is good. Lines are clear.”

I knew my added statement was probably pushing it, but I had found a newfound boldness knowing he was miles away. I was met with momentary silence and I felt my bravery falter slightly as I awaited his reply. 

“Mmm, good to hear.” 

His short reply left me unable to get a read on him. I decided to wait for him to continue the conversation, letting the silence linger between us. 

“I talked to your boss there, heard you’re doing very well with everything. They were a little concerned though, mentioned how you seemed to be functioning on autopilot.”

His words caused me to stiffen, it was true that I had been running on autopilot but I didn’t think it had been that noticeable, given that I was basically a stranger to these people. I didn’t know how to respond to him, I knew he wouldn’t buy it if I tried to lie or blow it off. But I didn’t want to open up to him either, the wounds from our last conversation still fresh. 

“I’m fine sir.” 

I tried my best to keep my tone even and calm, hoping that by some miracle he would accept my reply without question. 

“Hailey, I sent you there to get your head on straight. But I still want the same Upton back when you return, the Upton that could set all of us straight, the one who could keep her sides clear. The Upton that I wanted in my unit the first time I met you. Just keep that in mind kid..”

I couldn’t speak, I knew my voice would break if I tried. I blinked away the tears that had formed, a few escaping down my cheeks. Another silence fell between us as I struggled to compose myself. 

“I’m gonna let you go now, good night Hailey.”

I heard the click of his end disconnecting and set my phone on the nightstand beside me. I let out a deep breath, wiping at my face and rubbing the wetness out of my eyes. After I had somewhat pulled myself back together, I ordered myself some dinner and then showered. Climbing back into bed, I pulled the covers close and willed sleep to come. Promising myself that tomorrow would be a better day. 

My alarm went off and for the first time in a few days, I jumped out of bed on time and went right into the bathroom to get ready for my day. On my way into work, I stopped by the coffee shop I knew OA got his coffee from in the morning, placing my order and then heading into the office. I made my way to his desk, happy that he didn’t yet have a cup and happily handed the second cup over to him. My gesture was met with a confused smile as he took the drink. 

“I take mine black, for the record.” 

I smiled at him, hoping I could clear the air between us. This was someone I barely knew and I was sure I hadn’t made the best impression so far. My goal for today was to change that. 

“I’ll jot that down.” 

He sipped at his coffee, nodding in satisfaction that I had gotten his order correct. I made my way over to my desk, setting my things down before we headed to roll call. It started like any other day, until of course, it wasn’t. We ended up with a case on a major drug lord, a higher up in the Cartel that had managed to escape arrest time and time again. They had been following him for a while, tracking his movements every time he was in New York, but they hadn’t managed to get him cornered yet. This particular time was different though, as this batch of heroin he was dolling out proved to be laced with something that had its users dropping like flies. We spent all day chasing ghosts, always two steps behind him and I knew it was going to be a long night. With all the resources the FBI had to offer, we managed to set up an undercover op and have it fully ready to execute in a matter of hours. Now, under the cover of the New York night sky, we rolled out to put our plan into action. We had two officers, posed as buyers and a meet set up with our suspect. Our job was going to be to come in for the arrest once the exchange was made. Surprisingly, everything fell into place exactly as we had planned. Our buy went through and we took him down, even managing to get a few bricks off one of his runners while we were there. It felt good to have a success, one secured by the books, and I found myself back in the office, helping OA log away the drugs we had seized. Our conversation flowed easily, both of us riding the high of our win. The good mood was short lived when OA received a phone call, the caller relaying some information that had him instantly pacing in anger. I waited in silence for him to end the call, sending him a questioning look when he hung up. 

“He’s walking. Somehow, we don’t have enough to charge him.”

I inhaled sharply as his words settled in. It had seemed like an open and closed case, we had played everything right and had managed to take him down without problem. 

“How?” 

I asked, my heart sinking with the news. My mind shifted back to the case with Gael, how it was eerily similar to this one. Major drug lord manages to escape the law once again. I swallowed hard at the thought and focused on OA’s pacing. 

“Because we didn’t bust him with the drugs, he was there but they weren’t in his car. They don’t think they can prove it’s his product.”

His pacing paused as he leaned against the table, clearly fuming with anger over the whole situation. I felt my own temper flare, knowing that was a bs excuse and it should have been enough to charge him, there was no doubt the product was his. 

“That’s bullshit.”

I voiced my irritation and he nodded in agreement. 

“I needed this win.”

His voice was low and the anger had shifted to disappointment. 

“I can understand that. Why don’t you head out, I can finish this up.”

He looked up at me, debating if I was bluffing but nodded when he saw my confidant gaze. He let out a sigh, moving to gather his things from his desk and then left for the night without saying another word. Now I was alone in the office, surrounded by bricks of drugs that had yet to be accounted for, with the knowledge that another criminal was going to walk. I glanced over to my computer where I knew there was a file containing all of the information on this guys known addresses and vehicles. A thought entered my mind, one I had no business thinking. One almost mirroring the events that had led me to New York in the first place. I looked around the empty office, before returning my stare to the stack of drugs before me. With a sigh, I scooted my chair over to be in front of my computer and jiggled the mouse to power it on. As my screen lit up, illuminating the space around me, I easily located the file on my computer and clicked it open. I let out another breath I didn’t realize I was holding as I pulled up the information I was looking for, quickly reaching for my notepad and jotting a few things down. I closed out of the file and shut my computer down. I grabbed the bag that we had transported the drugs in, loading them into the bag and zipping it closed, figuring I would drop them off on my way out. As I made my way out of the office, drugs in hand, I felt my shoulders stiffening with the weight of what I was doing. And suddenly the lines were blurring again.

[myminershop]

Cryptocurrency Mining

Crypto currency mining is really a endless game within this world. Bit coin, the very first decentralized money introduced in early 2000. Mining crypto currency is a intricate process of confirming trades and adding to people ledger (block-chain ). This ledger of previous trades is known as the block-chain since it's a string of cubes. The block-chain functions to validate trades to the remaining part of the system as having happened. The block-chain can be accountable for releasing fresh bit-coins. Every one of those numerous crypto coins from presence are contingent on the central idea of this block-chain.

Procedure for Mining

 Thus every single trade is scrambled. Once that Gee trade happens it has inserted to some thing many reference as a"cube" before purpose that a predetermined range of trades was listed. That obstruct in the time becomes included with a string - that the block-chain - that can be found openly. Throughout mining crypto currency either Bit coin, Dash, Litecoin, Zcash, Ethereum, and more, the miner needs to Maximize recent transections in to cubes and decode a computationally tough puzzle. There are many on the web Bit coin mining websites. It has grown into a highly common means to make money.

Crypto currency is cryptographic, meaning it employs a distinctive encryption which enables controlling the creation of coins and also verifying that the trade. A cube is really useless in its own now available variant. But after applying the algorithm into a particular block. Upon fitting the miner receives a few bit-coins. To get earing Bit coin via mining, then the miner needs to be technological. Bit coin mining for benefit is quite competitive. Bit coin price tends to make it tricky to appreciate monetary gains without additionally speculating on the purchase price. The payment is dependent on how far that their hardware contributed to solving this mystery. Miners affirm that the trades, ensure they're not false, and maintain the infrastructure stirring together.

  Most Useful Coins to Mine

Bit-coins aren't really a good option for beginning diggers that require a go at a tiny scale. The present in-advance speculation and upkeep expenses, and the utter scientific problem of this task, only will not allow it to be more productive for consumer degree hardware. Currently, Bit coin mining is stored to get large-scale activities since it was. Litecoins, Dogecoins, along with Feathercoins, however,, are 3 Scrypt-based digital types of money which will be the most useful money saving advantage to apprentices. At the current quote of Litecoin, a gentleman can profit somewhere in the assortment of $50 pennies to ten dollars for every single day utilizing customer degree mining gear. Dogecoins and Feathercoins would reunite slightly less reward with a identical mining equipment are still end more famous daily. Peercoins, also, is also quite a sensibly acceptable benefit for the venture of energy and time.

 As more folks join the cryptocoin explosion, your final decision may receive more hard to mine as the costly hardware will probably be asked to come across coins. You're going to be forced to contribute vigorously on the off likelihood you will need to stay mining which coin, or you'll want to take your revenue and also switch to a demanding cryptocoin. Knowing the most important 3 Bit coin mining strategies will be likely where you've got to start out; this specific report centers round mining scrypt coins. Like wise, make certain you're in a state where bit coins and also Bit coin mining isn't legal.

 Think about we centre around mining crypto currency. The complete Focus of mining would be to reach three things:

1. Give bookkeeping administrations into the coin system. Mining is basically every instant of routine PC accounting referred to as'checking trades'.

2. Get-paid a little reward for the bookkeeping administrations by accepting fractions of coins each handful of days.

3. Hold your own personal down expenses, including hardware and power.

Some Fundamental Requirements

A completely free private database referred to as a coin wallet. This really is actually a password-secured container which stores your earnings and also keeps a huge listing of trades. A completely free mining program package, very similar to that one from AMD, on average composed of cgminer and stratum. A registration in an online mining pool, and it is a residential district of mineworkers who combine their PCs to improve profitability and wage equilibrium. Registration for an internet currency market, at which you are able to swap your coins for normal money, and also another way round. A dependable fulltime web institution, ideally two megabits for each 2nd or faster rate. A hardware installation location on your cellar or other trendy and airconditioned space.

 A workshop or custom-fabricated PC meant for exploration. Truly, you might utilize your overall PC to start, yet you wont have the ability to use PC as the digger is operating. A different dedicated PC is best. Suggestion: Don't start using a notebook, gaming system or handheld device . These instruments only aren't sufficiently successful to build wage. The price will probably be anywhere from $90 used-to $3000 brand new for each GPU or ASIC processor. Even the GPU or ASIC are the work horse of committing the bookkeeping administrations and mining job.

 A residence fan to blow air across your mining PC. Mining creates heat, and heating that the equipment is essential for the own prosperity. Personal interest. You definitely call for a good desire for studying and continuous learning, since you'll find continuous creation changes and fresh procedures for updating sheet mining includes about. The ideal coin mine-workers place in hours always considering probably the most perfect ways to correct and boost their money mining operation.

 Crypto currency Mining Profitability Every time a mathematical difficulty is recognized, a continuing number of bit-coins are made. The amount of bit coins generated per cube starts in 50 and can be halved each 210,000 cubes (roughly four years). The current quantity of bit coins granted a cube is 12.5. The previous bock halving happened on July 20-16 and the subsequent one will probably soon be in 2020. The estimation of adulthood can be reached using varied on the web mining systems. Development of electronic money standards, as an instance, Bit coin, Ethereum, along with Bit coin Cash has prompted enormous partnerships by businesses and this also is needed to help in substantial maturation of industry in the not too distant future.

 Crypto currency mining can be a computationally intensive procedure, which demands system of several PCs for confirmation of this trade record, referred to as the block-chain. The excavators can be obtained a share of trade charges and gain a much greater possibility of locating the following block through leading high computational capability. These service trades aid in giving increased security to network customers, and promises honesty, that will be depended upon are the evident variable influencing growth of their worldwide crypto currency mining marketplace.

[sepublic]

Kanohi Dragon

           Somewhere in the Stelt District lies an underground chamber; A titanic, enormous cavern designed to contain and subdue a beast of colossal size. This beast’s exact origins are unknown to the Xians who study and experiment on the creature, as well as the creature itself; It cannot remember where it came from. All it remembers is its name; Kanohi.

           According to ancient Xian legend, the Kanohi Dragon suddenly appeared during the War of Six Kingdoms. It flew across the skies, turning them black with soot as it left behind a molten trail of burning ash in its wake, feasting on multiple Xians in order to sate its powerful hunger. Unsurprisingly, Xian armies retaliated against the beast, with the Barraki Takadox himself desiring either to hypnotize or slay Kanohi. Efforts proved largely futile, as Xia’s primitive weapons could not outclass a titanic beast that could effortlessly slither through the sky; But by a stroke of luck and pure grace, a powerful storm cast a devastating lightning bolt against the Kanohi Dragon. Kanohi fell and crash-landed into the frozen north, where the ice immediately began to sap away the beast’s heat. Unable to maintain its temperatures, Kanohi quickly fell into a deep slumber.

           Generations passed and legends of the Kanohi Dragon became just that; Legends. Although the Kanohi Dragon landed in Pridak’s domain, the Barraki was unwilling to release the beast, recognizing its threat and declaring it too much of a liability to attempt to tame- Nor did he want to risk awakening Kanohi in any attempts to finish the creature off. Years of ice and frost enveloped Kanohi’s comatose form, which still maintained some degree of powerful heat within.

           However, as Xia’s industrial age ensued, massive expansion began to occur across all corners of the island. And as the Artidax District in the North began to develop, piercing the icy frost, things became much warmer. Finally, a mining company seeking to avoid Voymari monopolies began drilling into the ice, and awakened the Kanohi Dragon.

           The Kanohi Dragon promptly resumed a second rampage across Xia, but this time the Xians were much better-equipped for the beast. They had access to powerful industrial weapons and technologies that helped even the odds. Still, casualties and destruction were immense, and Kanohi rampaged for an entire month, leaving a path of destruction through Artidax, Voymari, and eventually into the Tametru District. The industrial sector’s burning flames proved conducive towards helping Kanohi regains its lost, former strength.

           Eventually a band of heroes rose up, among them the legendary Glatorian of fame, Certavus. These heroes worked closely with Xian forces to finally defeat Kanohi by luring it towards the Great Furnace and dousing it in countless gallons of liquid nitrogen, as well as ice gathered from the Artidax District and water from Nynrah and Voymari. Additional weaponry was rolled in to finally defeat and wound the dragon as it crashed to the ground, and all of Xia celebrated.

           As Certavus and his group of heroes would later go on to become the predecessors of the Volunteer Militia, discussion was focused on what to do with Kanohi. Many advocated for euthanizing the creature now that it was finally wounded and vulnerable. Inevitably, companies and organizations began to bid on the Kanohi Dragon instead, until finally it landed in the hands of a corporation that sought to to analyze, study, and reverse-engineer the internal mechanisms that granted Kanohi its powers of gravity-defying flight.

           Years passed once more, and progress was so-so as experiments were performed. The Kanohi Dragon was moved underground to minimize the threat of it reawakening and breaking out, but as technology improved, Xian scientists were able to subdue the creature using powerful freezing mechanisms, enabling them to study even while it was awake. With success on unlocking Kanohi’s power being rather varied, the creature ended up trading hands, passed through the ownership of multiple entities as they attempted to study and profit from the beast. Kanohi was subject to cruel, inhumane experiments as its memories of its past began to fade and wane from the constant years of abuse and frequent tranquilizer and ice-induced slumbers.

           The Kanohi Dragon eventually ended up in the ownership of Vortixx Industries, which began to collaborate with the Dark Hunters to experiment on the creature. The disgraced Nynrah Ghost Spiriah, at the time serving the Dark Hunters, helped spearhead experiments and operations on the beast as mysterious Masks of Power from Dweller and Umarak were shipped into the lab. As a part of his experiments and study into the foray of Life energy itself, Spiriah was inspired by his success with the Dark Hunter Charger and wanted to try his hand on not just applying Life energy to a living creature, but specific forms of Life energy.

           Spiriah knew from the existence of Kraata that Life energy could take specific forms; So why not try grafting Life energy in the form of Powers to a living creature? The Kanohi Dragon already seemed to defy reality through its massive frame and lack of wings that were somehow supported by flight… Perhaps Kanohi already dabbled in and relied on Life energy to fly? If so, it’d possibly respond towards attempts to graft Masks of Power to it better than previous test subjects…

           The Kanohi Dragon underwent a painful process of having various Masks of Power fused to its hide, grafted into the creature’s own scales as its armor became metallic. Results and data from the experiments were intriguing, but not definitive; Still, Spiriah was happy with the progress, and the Kanohi Dragon gained a few abilities of its own in the process. Alas, Spiriah never got to finish his work, as he disappeared while on an expedition in the ruined Nynrah District; Unable to continue work and suffering disputes with The Shadowed One over ownership, Vortixx Industries cut off the collaboration and halted work on Kanohi.

Vortixx Industries took the Kanohi Dragon for itself, claiming ownership alongside the Masks of Power that the Dark Hunters had brought in. In retaliation, The Shadowed One had his Dark Hunters ravage and destroy multiple Vortixx assets, as well as assassinate a few key members of the company including the current CEO at the time. The incident soured relations between the Dark Hunters and Vortixx Industries, although inevitably they resumed the occasional collaboration after time passed; Business was business, after all.

With the project shut down, Kanohi wasted away in darkness, suffering the lingering and chronic pain from the inhumane, torturous experiments. A crew was tasked with making sure that the Kanohi Dragon remained subdued. However, during the Okotan expedition to Xia, an accident resulted in massive damage to the containment facility. The Kanohi Dragon reawoke, and incensed from all of the torture it had gone through, broke through its confines and obliterated the ceiling above, escaping out onto the surface.

The Kanohi Dragon promptly resumed a third rampage on Xia, flying across the skies for the first time in decades as it began to ravage Stelt. Vahki squads and Exo-Toa scrambled to contain the creature as artillery cannons and massive rail-guns were brought in, and even the Dark Hunters Ravager and Devastator were hired to help subdue Kanohi. In the ensuing chaos, Lewa, Toa of Jungle, worked with the Vahki to contain the dragon, not wanting to see any innocent lives get killed.

With Lewa’s help, the Vahki succeeded in defeating Kanohi and subduing the beast, recapturing and tranquilizing it. Despite initial reservations, Lewa was personally thanked by a Vahki captain, and Vortixx Industries was sued for the incident as it hurried to recontain Kanohi. Shortly afterward, Lewa learned the truth of Kanohi and the horrible things done to it; And after needing some help against an incoming wave of Dark Hunters, he went out of his way to free the Kanohi Dragon once more. Despite initial hostility towards Lewa, Kanohi was won over by the Toa of Jungle’s natural kindness and empathy for animals, with Lewa using his powers and a Mask of Healing to help soothe the dragon’s pain and wounds. Communication was better established with a Mask of Telepathy.

Having now befriended the Kanohi Dragon, Lewa rode it out across the skies of Xia, defeating the Dark Hunters. On Lewa’s request, Kanohi refrained from burning Stelt down to its foundations, and instead peacefully flew off to Nynrah, where it could hopefully be free from anyone else who wished it harm. Lewa bade Kanohi farewell, before resuming his mission of stopping The Shadowed One from recreating Makuta’s Mask of Life.    

           The Kanohi Dragon is a colossal kaiju, a slithering reptile with a long tail and silver whiskers. Its hide is mostly a powerful crimson, with an ebony snout. It possesses powerful claws and strength to rend foes and prey with, and enormous fire-breath that can instantly melt steel. Naturally Kanohi has a massive amount of body heat, and requires frequent amounts of heat and flame to sustain itself. Vents located between its scales frequently release steam. The temperatures of Kanohi’s outermost hide and steam-vents are capable of causing burns to the average Xian, although few have ever gotten close enough to touch the dragon.

           Despite its titanic weight, size, and lack of wings, the Kanohi Dragon can somehow fly through the air anyway, weaving and slithering through the skies as if they were made of water. How it does this is unknown; Potentially, it has the power of Flight. Wherever Kanohi goes, it leaves a trail of blackened ash as soot and smoke from its nostrils darkens the sky; However, it appears that the ash it leaves behind is actually fertile, and can enable enhanced plant-growth!

           Its incredible size and unusual flight capabilities inspired multiple Xians to study the beast, hoping to unlock the secret behind how it was able to not only carry its own weight but even soar with it. Previously-mentioned speculation on Kanohi utilizing Life energy led the disgraced scientist Spiriah into grafting countless Masks of Power onto the dragon’s hide. The painful process caused Kanohi huge amounts of agony, but it seems the experiments were somewhat of a success; It now had an impenetrable metal hide in various places.

           Not only that, but its own soul seemed to link towards and even become slightly compatible with several of the Masks that had been fused to it! The Kanohi Dragon is able to tap into the Masks of Power scattered across its scales, activating and utilizing their abilities; Thankfully, the discrepancy in size means that each Mask, when activated, tends to spray its energy around wildly within the range of an Okotan-sized user. Thus, energy-beams cast from a Mask of Beams will only go about as far as it would on a regular-sized wielder.

           When ‘activating’ these Masks of Power across its body, Kanohi’s masks will unleash their power and energy without control, often spewing attacks wildly and with little aim and consistency. It is able to activate multiple Masks of Power at once. Luckily, Kanohi’s own tortured, unnatural fusion, combined with its trauma-debilitated animal mind, has led to most of its Masks performing below their usual limits. The Shadowed One initially insisted that most Masks of Power gathered for Kanohi be ones made by Ekimu, whom he deemed the superior Mask Maker; But many of Makuta’s were included in the process as well.

           Even when not active or trying to tap into them, Kanohi’s Masks of Power will occasionally activate regardless, contributing towards the chaos and confusion. The Masks’ effects seem limited mainly to the parts of the body they are found on. Traversing the beast’s hide is already difficult enough with its high temperatures, but coupled with Masks of Power that wildly lash out, the beast’s presence countless meters above the ground, and its own rampaging hostility, a trip across its body would be suicide for most.

           As a result of trauma and unusual experiments, Kanohi’s control over its own motor functions are not ideal, and thus it can lose control of its power when on a rampage. Like any abused animal it is naturally hostile to anything else that approaches it out of fear, and prone to lashing out in pain; Kanohi’s amnesia contributes towards the dragon’s fear and heightened fight-or-flight (or rather fight-and-flight) mode. Moments of calmness and peace have been few and far between for the abused creature.

           Still, it is capable of reason, and when calmed down sufficiently, Kanohi prefers not to cause conflict. It seems that even its appearance on Xia is unnatural for it, and its sudden emergence the first time it was sighted seems to support this. As Lewa helped calm and communicate to Kanohi with a surprising familiarity on both ends, he wondered- Could the creature have been from Okoto?

[hillyans]

Hillyan Laws, Crime, and Military

Work in progress post about Hillys’ law enforcement and military. Things will be added and potentially changed.

Laws

Media

Traffic Initiative (IRIS Network)

Anonymous informants have delivered word to IRIS operatives that the government’s new traffic initiative is in fact a cover for the Alpha Sections to illegally collect demographic data from citizens.The mandate, which requires all vehicles to register with Alpha Security stations, demands citizens to provide private information such as number of children, financial holdings, and political affiliations. What could the Alpha’s possibly want with this information? More on this terrible breach of citizen rights as it develops.

In-Game Dialogue

Protected Districts

JADE: “Hello.”

SOLDIER: “Citizens are advised against circulating in the vicinity. By order of the Alpha Sections. The DomZ are everywhere and have been capturing all the Hillyans they find.”

...

JADE: “Why can’t we go where we want to on Hillys anymore?”

SOLDIER: “Citizen Protection. Carlson and Peeters,Volume 5.”

...

SOLDIER: “HALT!! Access forbidden to non-residents!”

...

SOLDIER: “HALT!! Accessed reserved for residents, or those possessing a city pass.”

...

JADE: “There's no chance of going out to sea, thanks to their "Anti-DomZ protection barriers".”

NINO: “You should go see what the rhinos can do. Even though they're illegal now, I think they're still selling old jump kits for hovercrafts.“

...

HH: “They call that a "protected district"... And they just let it fall to ruins.”

...

PEY’J: “"Protected district" is what they call it... They let everything go to the dogs!“

...

JADE: “They sealed off Fountain Square?”

PEDESTRIAN: “We used to be able to go where we wanted on Hillys. But now the Alpha Sections herd us around like sheep "for our protection".”

...

JADE: “Hey Rob, you left your taxi?”

ROB: “You betcha! We can't even leave Hillys anymore. And there are some amazing whales out in the open sea right now...”

Pearls are Illegal

JADE: “Hey Xiao, how's business?”

XIAO: “Pretty rough... I heard that the Mammago rhinos are doing business using pearls. And that is strictly illegal!!”

...

JADE: “Safe and sound in its shell, the precious pearl is the slave of the currents.”

PEDESTRIAN: “The government has decided that pearls are illegal to use as money, Miss.”

Article 563

“Article 563 clearly states that it is forbidden to open fire in free air space! Call to our attackers: You are not in compliance with Article 563!! Article 563, Article 563!“

CRIME

In-Game Dialogue

Looters

JADE: “Still don't want to go to the lighthouse?”

CHICO: “I prefer to stay in the city. I heard that there's lots of looters outside the city walls. Apparently they've filled their caves with fabulous treasures.“

...

JADE: “The Alpha Sections have sealed off certain areas?”

PEDESTRIAN: “Yea, to protect them from looters... There's always a couple bad eggs that try to profit from the war situation.”

...

JADE: “How are things in town?”

PEDESTRIAN: “You live outside the city? Stay clear of the caves in the bays.They're full of looters who get rich by attacking innocent Hillyans.”

Hillyan Army

In-game Text

Regular Army (Carlson & Peeters Manual Opus 23: D&D (defense and detection))

(O.R.: organic resources)

Equipment   -Laser-proof armor   -Perforating helmet

In-Game Dialogue

Affiliation with the Alpha Sections

JADE: “So…You don’t seem to be too popular these days, huh?”

SOLDIER: “The schemes of the Alpha Sections have nothing to do

with the regular army, Miss.”

... JADE: “The Alpha Sections don’t seem to be doing anything to stop these kidnappings?“

SOLDIER: “The Alpha Sections are part of another section of the army, Miss. The regular army has always been on the side of the Hillyans.”

...

JADE: “Why did the regular army allow the Alpha Sections to take over control?”

SOLDIER: “Excuse me, Miss, but I’m on duty. Go buy the Hillyan Word.” 

...

JADE: “You obviously know what’s been going on. Why have you let the Alpha Sections do whatever they want?”

SOLDIER: “If you want to know the truth, buy the IRIS paper. Uh…I mean the Hillyan Word…No…anything but the Hillyan Word. Uh…excuse me, but I’m on duty.” 

...

JADE: “Why have they tripled their military presence?”

PEDESTRIAN: “Them? Oh, you know, the regular army doesn't have much to say in the matter since the Alpha Sections came on the scene.”

Intensive Recruitment Campaigns

JADE: “Is your intensive recruitment campaign paying off?

SOLDIER: “Sorry shortcake, but I’m on duty.”

Dependability

JADE: “Can Hillys count on the support of the regular army?”

SOLDIER: “Ensuring the security of the population is the principal task

of a soldier. Carlson and Peeters Chapter 03.“

Technology

Media

Keys (game manual)

The Hillyan army uses these coded magnetic passes. There are various kinds,each specific to a particular type of lock.

In-game Dialogue

Ships

JADE:  “We're not able to get into outerspace.”

HH: “I know all about these ships, we used them in the Thair campaign. It's just a question of power, Miss Jade. With a stellar motor, we'll be able to leave the atmosphere.”

...

HH: “It's the same as accelerating the hovercraft... You've got the fire button and even the retrorockets. None of the Army's ships are equipped with it.“

Laser-proof Armor

HH: “If it's of any help, our armors are capable of resisting against their lasers.”

HH: “Those? Don't worry Miss Jade, our armor's laser-proof.“

Auxiliary Circuits/Respiratory autonomy (?)

HH: “I...I can't breathe, Miss Jade. I'm connecting to my auxiliary circuits, but they...won't hold out very long...”

Carlson & Peeters

In-game Dialogue

Rule #54: “"A door doesn't close by itself." Carlson and Peeters. Rule #54.“

Page 2: “The 1-2-3-push!...Basic exercises, page 2.”

Page 823: “Don't Break Up The Team! Carlson and Peeters, page 823.”

Chapter 3: “Ensuring the security of the population is the principal task of a soldier. Carlson and Peeters Chapter 03.”

Chapter 12: “Ouch!!  Respect the home team. Chapter 12.”

Chapter 21: “Power in numbers, Miss Jade!... Carlson and Peeters, chapter 21.”

Chapter 21: “They also say...If you can't go around the door, break it down. (Carlson and Peeters, chapter 21)”

Opus 4: “AH HA...If you can't go through the door, go around it. (Carlson and Peeters, Opus 4). Bravo, Miss Jade.”

In-game Text

Opus 23: D&D (defense and detection)

Regular army (O.R.: organic resources) Equipment - Laser-proof armor  - Perforating helmet

Alpha Sections (elite units) (O.R.: organic resources) Equipment - Laser-proof armor - T-Hammer - Respiratory autonomy     (Weak point in their breathing tank)

Electric barriers (380 V) D&D (defense and detection) Removable self-powered generators for blocking small passages.

Cyclopius Unit M39 D&D (defense and detection) - Defense Laser (force 5) - Anti-shock armor WARNING: Keep clear of electric fields.

Transport unit XB 24 D&D (defense and detection) - Surveillance -Transport small objects - Light armor (Invulnerable when glowing.)

Defense mines D&D (defense and detection) -protection of aquatic accesses

Torpedo launcher D&D (defense and detection) -guided torpedoes -inertia coefficient 8

Laser turret D&D (defense and detection) - Defense laser (force 5) - Blind shot.

Isobaric case (Extra-Hillyan Convoys) - Transport all types of living organisms in a state of lethargic control.

M5 Laser turrets D&D (defense and detection) - Detect and follow intruders - Defense laser (force 5)

Surveillance Robot D&D (defense and detection) - Perimeter security - Defensive shooting. - Twin gas propulsion. (Attention: weak point on the propulsion tanks)

Barrier Alarm D&D (defense and detection) - Activate/Deactivate in case of alarm. - Inoffensive and ineffective against military armors.

Surveillance Module D&D (defense and detection) - Rapid securing of a zone. - Activation with radio authorization.

Detection Drone D&D (defense and detection) - Perimeter surveillance. - Radio connection with torpedo launcher.

Training

Lesson 17: “If the guard is alone, try to create a diversion by making a noise.”

Lesson 18: “Train yourself to do a somersault in order to roll into a hiding place.”

Charging:

“Oh, yeah. In boot camp we learned to never try and bust through more than 8 inches of steel.”

...

“25 cm! Too thick for me.”

In response to unlocking door with Jade: “At officer's school, we do that in the third year.”

Alpha Sections

In-Game Dialogue

Slaughterhouses Closed Down

JADE: “Do the Alpha Sections have the slaughterhouses occupied?”

NINO: “Most certainly... That seems to be where the traffic converges. It's going to be very difficult to get in there.”

...

JADE: “Have the slaughterhouses become a military zone?”

NINO: “Yep... They've got the whole place surrounded. Impossible to even get close.If I were you, I'd go have a look at the hovercraft races.I know that one of the racetracks is near the wall surrounding the slaughterhouses.If that's the case, you might be able to leave the race and get into the slaughterhouses from the track.”

...

JADE: “Do the Alpha Sections have the slaughterhouses occupied?“

HAHN: “Most certainly... That seems to be where the traffic converges. It's going to be very difficult to get in there.“

Alphas Using Hillys’ Resources

JADE: “Are the Hillyans demonstrating?”

PEDESTRIAN: “You betcha! People are getting angrier by the minute. The Alpha Sections are raping Hillys of all its resources.”

Control Checks

JADE: “They've beefed up on control checks?”

PEDESTRIAN: “The Alpha Sections are looking for terrorists from the IRIS Network.”

Alphas as Police

“Fine...If that's the way you want it...I'm calling in the other idiots. ...The Alpha Sections...That should calm them down a bit...”

...

“Do not allow fear to take control of you, honorable assistant. The Alpha Sections will give us a helping hand.“

...

“AAAAHHH!!! HEEELLLPPP!!  S.O.S.!!! WE'RE BEING FIRED UPON!!  THE DOMZ!! THE DOMZ!! IT'S THE DOMZ SPIES!! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!! CALL THE ALPHA SECTIONS!!”

Media

Alpha Section (Official BG&E site)

- Government armed branch -

- Sent by the Inter-stellar Federation to protect Hillys -

[bangkokjacknews]

Vietnam's never-ending bomb disposal problem

Vietnam's bomb disposal squad. It has been estimated that it will take 300 years to clear the land of Vietnam of all the weapons dropped and left behind so many years ago. Disposing of deadly munitions on the former frontline seems an impossible task, but there may be hope. Somewhere in a village in the central province of Quang Tri, a muffled yet powerful explosion erupts, followed immediately by another, shaking the ground beneath us. Sparks shower from the treetops like arrows aimed at the sky, then a black plume of smoke. Several American bombs have just exploded, more than forty years after the end of the war. Local people are used to these controlled detonations, which are carried out at least twice a week. The war is long over, but the fight seems never-ending for the dozens of mine-clearance experts who struggle every day to clear the region from the millions of bombs, landmines, grenades, shells, mortars and other unexploded ammunitions that were dropped on the region. In this part of the globe, these deadly devices are still killing people on a daily basis. The bombs that the team from the Norwegian People’s Aid (NPA) have just destroyed are no longer a threat. But here, everybody remembers a man named Ngo Thien Khiet, who was killed by one of the devices at the age of 45 while trying to disarm it. He left behind a wife and two sons. In its 15 years of clearing the former battlefield, the NPA had never suffered a single accident, so what happened to Khiet shocked everyone working on the project and was a costly, painful reminder of how dangerous and indiscriminate these weapons are. Khiet’s partner, Nguyen Van Hao, who was also hit by the blast, recently recovered from his injuries and immediately decided to return to this insidious, hot and humid battlefield that seems to refuse to forget the tragedy that took place between 1955 and 1975. Twenty years of atrocities that nobody can forget: the central province of Quang Tri was the front line during the Vietnam War, or “the Resistance War against America”, as we call it here in Vietnam. Its marshy land was plowed for over a decade by a deadly rain of metal and fire, and 80 percent of the province is still a minefield. Quang Tri is the place to go to understand the madness and the violence of the American bombings during the war in an era when the region was split in two by the “demilitarized zone” (DMZ) between North and South Vietnam. Hemmed between a 1,000 miles of Annamite mountain range and the vast South China Sea (which Vietnam calls the East Sea), Quang Tri is only 30 miles wide: a tiny piece of land that is the most heavily bombed place in history, even compared to Germany in World War II. War victims in a country at peace Ho Van Lai, 26, was not even born when the war ended, but he suffered its vicious backlash. It's written all over his body. Every missing part of him tells the cruel story this conflict left behind. At the age of 10, one of those unexploded bombs detonated and ripped off his right arm and leg, as well as his left hand and foot. He has only one eye left, and his one good eye continues to deteriorate as time goes by. Doctors say there is no cure. In a humble house in Gio Linh Town, Lai lives with his mother. “I stepped on a bomb and it exploded when I was playing in the sand with three friends. Two of them died and one is still alive,” he simply says. This is what happens when you live in a ��polluted area”, as the NGOs call the region. No one really knows how many people have been injured or killed by UXOs in Vietnam since the war ended, but the best estimates are at least 105,000, including 40,000 deaths. Most of the victims are poor farmers -- perhaps not surprisingly, since most of the fighting and bombings took place in rural areas and rice paddies: the most common sites of explosions. “Farmers here often find pieces of metal, sometimes bombs or ammunition, and they simply toss them aside and continue their work,” said Le Van Minh, Community Liaison Officer at MAG Vietnam. It's not necessarily because of the lack of awareness, he says. Many local farmers admit that they still very much fear of the risk that one day they may accidentally swing their hoes into one of those leftover clustered bombs, or "bombies" as they call, even after all these years. But for people who were desperate for farm land to make a living, though barely enough, they would defy all the risks to reclaim it. Nowadays, the pattern of victims has changed, from those who stumble on munitions accidentally to the scrap-metal scavengers who go out looking for them in full knowledge of the danger. And in recent years, the casualty numbers have steadily declined thanks to the relentlessness of several NGOs specialized in mine clearance, such as the NPA and the Mine Advisory Group (MAG). Day after day, in the muddy rice fields and in every corner of every village, they seek out and destroy these lethal pieces of rusted metal. Peace fighters In the early morning, a dozen young men and women are standing by the side of the road in Cam Lo Township. All dressed in beige uniforms, they listen to the supervisors, armed only with shovels, ropes, colored stakes and metal detectors. This is their security briefing, where everybody has to give their blood type and listen to the security rules under the surveillance of a paramedic. On this battlefield, a single mistake could be fatal. Slowly, the sun is rising as the team quietly walks in column to the polluted site. In the distance, explosions break the silence: “That's probably the NPA team destroying something,” a teammate says. Today’s clearance area covers about several square kilometers of paddle fields in a rural town of Cam Lo, right in the middle of Quang Tri. Around here, the team has already found one mortar and two cluster bombs. No doubt that today, they will find more. As they comb the field, detectors make a rhythmic, high pitched chatter. Regularly, one of them gives a loud squawk: “It may be a bomb, or may be just a piece of shrapnel,” says one of the officers. The smallest one that the team has just found after an hour of searching is among the worst. It takes a kind of perverse ingenuity to design such things: an airplane drops a mother pod, an elongated canister that springs open in midair. As many as 600 individual mini-bombs, smaller than a baseball, fly out in all directions, blanketing an area the size of three football fields and story first shared by Bangkok Jack, come over and join us, shredding anything in their path. As the unexploded ones rust away in the ground, some become inert, while others become unstable. You never know. “There’s a footprint to a cluster-bomb strike pattern that’s different from any other kind of blast,” Resad Junuzagic, NPA country director, explains. “If you find one or two bombs, you can assume there are others in the immediate area.” It helps, he said, that the U.S. Air Force has turned over many of its maps tracking the planned bombing runs, although pilots had discretion to drop bombs wherever they saw fit. Time is slowly passing by in the field. A few cluster bombs have been found. They are too instable to be removed, so they will be destroyed on site. Alone in the middle of the ground, a bomb disposal expert is setting explosives on the UXOs and covering the holes with sand bags, while the rest of the team evacuates the area and warns local people of the impending explosion with megaphones. “4…3…2…1… Fire!” shouts the team leader, before the deadly devices explode under the indifferent gaze of a few cows. Members of the MAG international clearance team destroy a stockpile of ammunition in Cam Lo District, Quang Tri Province, Vietnam. Photo by VnExpress/Xavier Bourgois Organizing the counterattack… for the long term. All the experts agree: it will be nigh-on impossible to remove all the remnants of the war in the region. But to organize the response, the different NGOs working on the ground, local people and the authorities have to work together. This is how they came to start the “RENEW” project in 2001, mostly funded by the NPA and the U.S. State Department, who coordinate the all the organizations involved and manage a huge database where all the clearance operations are recorded. But this is also a matter of risk education, especially for children, who visit every day the small Mine Action center museum, where they will learn the different types of explosives and how to react in front of those, while doing role-playing games. On the ground, these kinds of initiatives have had clear results. You just have to follow one of the emergency response teams. In some villages in the region, cluster bombs and mortars are buried just a meter from the road side and when the men in beige turn up, they are quickly joined by locals with numerous reports of suspicious devices buried under bushes, sand and even cemeteries that are still waiting to be cleared. It has been estimated that it will take 300 years to clear the land of Vietnam of all the weapons dropped and left behind so many years ago. And just by following the MAG and NPA teams for a day shows the incredible amount of work that still need to be done. "We are very confident with our approach and progress... and we expect to finish our job by 2020, so it's a five-year-period," says Junuzagic, the NPA director, as he was talking about the plan of getting rid of the UXOs entirely from the fields of Quang Tri. "It's a big difference when hundreds of years could be reduced to five, or even six or seven years." For very long time, people have spoken of removing every last piece of ammunitions and ordnances from the fields of Vietnam - an idea that largely remains, until at least the couple of years ago, a wishful thinking, an impossible task. Now, perhaps there is hope. NPA, MAG, and other NGOs have destroyed more than 370,000 UXOs over an area of 5,600 hectares (13,838 acres) in Quang Tri since 1998. No one knows how many war remnants still lie under this war-torn land, but for Junuzagic, he knows that it's time for him and his team to finally finish their supposedly "never-ending" job. Read the full article