#Integrated Systems SA

[science-lings]

i came up with a modern version of my Fem!Wild/Link au and it is somehow even more fucked up than her original origin story

[sayruq]

As Gaza spirals toward full-scale famine, displaced civilians and health workers told CNN they go hungry so their children can eat what little is available. If Palestinians find water, it is likely undrinkable. When relief trucks trickle into the strip, people clamber over each other to grab aid. Children living on the streets, after being forced from their homes by Israel’s bombardment, cry and fight over stale bread. Others reportedly walk for hours in the cold searching for food, risking exposure to Israeli strikes. Even before the war, two out of three people in Gaza relied on food support, Arif Husain, the chief economist at the World Food Programme (WFP), told CNN. Palestinians have lived through 17 years of partial blockade imposed by Israel and Egypt. Israel’s bombardment and siege since October 7 has drastically diminished vital supplies in Gaza, leaving the entire population of some 2.2 million exposed to high levels of acute food insecurity or worse, according to the Integrated Food Security and Nutrition Phase Classification (IPC), which assesses global food insecurity and malnutrition. Martin Griffiths, the UN’s emergency relief chief, told CNN the “great majority” of 400,000 Gazans characterized by UN agencies as at risk of starving “are actually in famine.” UN human rights experts have warned “Israel is destroying Gaza’s food system and using food as a weapon against the Palestinian people.”

[aqtsusa1]

For high-quality AS 9100 Awareness Training, Consult AQTS-USA Today! The international AS 9100 standard helps companies focus on customer requirements, and continually improve business processes.

+1 (713) 789-0884 / 85 Email: sales@aqts-usa.com

[yuri-is-online]

Here's a short list of things that I think would affect yuu (not from an omegaverse world) being in twisted wonderland (omegaverse au)

The scent thing. In my mind, everyone has a scent, including betas, theirs are just weaker. So how would Yuu, who has no scent, be classified? Would ortho or idia want to study them and see what's different between twst folks and earth folks? Scent is usually just noted in smut scenes, but it does have a larger role in most a/b/o stories. Mainly, it's how people communicate emotions. If you're happy, it shows in your scent. If your distressed, it shows in your scent. If your scared, excited, horny, anxious, it shows in your scent. People probably focus on scent when it comes to emotions before they focus on your face or body language. So figuring out what Yuu is feeling is probably a lot harder. It's even worse if Yuu isn't that expressive in the first place. Although it does make me wonder about how people try to hide their scents when their trying to be aloof or stoic...

Noises. This also ties into emotions, the more extreme ones at least. A/b/o twst people purr when their happy or content and growl when they're feeling territorial. Yuu might be able to growl, not very well but whatever. But purring? Yeah no. Not happening. Bless Jades heart he's trying so hard to give Yuu gifts they like and listening for a purr and it just. Never comes. Also imagine being Yuu and you're just getting growled at on a daily basis that's just gotta suck lmoa

Warnings for menstruation and omega heats 🤩 (also jade thinks his partner got SAed so HUGE TW). I personally think that TWST doesn't have periods. Mostly because I read Period Drama series by twstfanblog and was like "Yeah sure I'll integrate that into my belief system". So Yuus under a lot of stress right? Especially those first few months and overblots, so I think it's safe to say that an AFAB Yuus cycle would probably skip over those few months or even a year until everything calms down. And then boom! Ovulation! Jade thinks it's a preheat or a heat and is trying SO HARD to be respectful because they did not talk about this before hand and he doesn't know if he's aloud to "help" them the way he's wants to. Doesn't exactly help that Yuus throwing themself at him every step of the way and asking shit like "Hey if we have kids what would you name them :D?". Yuu is killing him. All in all though, it's a pretty subdue heat, they're not confined to their nest (a messy pile of pillows, blankets, and cushions that they impulsively made in Ramshackle one day) or anything, they can go to class and move around just fine (he doesn't let them though. He doesn't need any perverts possibly getting off or fantasizing about something only he should be fantasizing about), and unfortunately, they're not keeping him in their nest and letting him breed them until they forget their own name, so it all worked out just fine. And then about a week later, he goes to Sam's first thing in the morning to buy more snacks and comes back to the strong scent of his loves blood, only to find out that blood was coming from "the void" and they're curled up in pain, and crying. Yeah that was the worst moment of Jades life, actually. 0/10. Would not recommend. He almost killed several people that day 👍

Nests. Yuu doesn't know what the hell a "nest" is or why Jade freaked out so hard with joy when they made their shitty little pillow fort but hey! At least he's happy! Look at him! Just vibrating with joy! While he's sitting just outside the fort and is just... staring at them..... Is he not gonna come in? So now their scooching over and awkwardly patting the spot next to them- and Jades eyes just dilated SO HARD ok

Ruts and knots. The Fun Shit. Jade asked (very flusteredly) if Yuu would be willing to help him through his upcoming rut and Yuus like 🧍👍🧎. And it's a lot more intense than they were expecting. Bro is looking a half step away from feral as he carries Yuu over to the "nest" and just let's go fully shortly after they start. And Yuu is throughly enjoying it but also- isn't this a little much?!It's just a week of a bad Coleen Hoover novel where all they do is have sex and sleep! They ain't built for this! Honestly, they're just a doll for him at this point because there is not a THOUGHT behind those eyes expect for Jade and his dick and they ain't even mad about it!

That last section wasn't a question I was just thirsty. Damn this ask got long as hell shit.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH bless you. My lifespan... my strength... it is returning 2 me.

I think a lot of this could be cleared up with some communication, but at the same time poor Yuu wouldn't know what they were supposed to be communicating.

If scents are reflective of emotion and how people communicate, I would think they reflect people's personalities in the same way facial expressions do? So a particularly stoic person (like say Silver) would have a much more muted scent when he's happy than someone who is much more expressive (like Kalim.) Of the people who would be most distressed by Yuu's lack of scent, I think it would actually be Riddle since I could see him thinking it is a medical issue they need to get checked out ASAP. It would certainly isolate them from their peers even more than not being a mage would, making them a real alien as far as most people in Twisted Wonderland would be concerned.

Now. Jade. My beloved. I think after he manages to successfully court Yuu he would be very smug about this because he would be maybe one of the only people in Twisted Wonderland able to pick up on Yuu's unique body language. But that's in the future, now he's struggling because on top of no scent there's no purrs D:< He's fantasized about what it would sound like sosososososo many times and he is worryingly close to realizing that he's not above begging. He just wants some praise from his chosen mate... please...

lmao about the growling I just would not be able to take that seriously and probably make some dumb comment that would get my ass beat. But if it was really loud that would stress me out.

... oh poor Jade. In my head I am thinking of Yuu maybe having been told by a (concerned) adeuce that Jade is attempting to court them so they start trying to reciprocate (which does not help anyone's concerns) but they haven't really talked about what exactly that means yet. So by the time Yuu starts ovulating they're still in what Yuu might consider to be a "talking" phase? Because Jade hasn't asked to make things official? Whereas Jade is simultaneously on cloud nine planning the wedding and in the depths of despair wondering how best to continue his courtship efforts because oh he wants to help you with your heat so badly :c he's in a permanent state of horny grip the entire week and so tense. Yuu wonders if it would be too much to offer to help him relax since they aren't all that close yet so they figure they'll ask him some questions to see how he reacts and all that and he is extremely receptive but he still doesn't make a move, even if he does insist on talking to them around the pillow fort a lot?

Speaking of the pillow fort... I'm just picturing Jade sitting so pretty and heavy breathing while Yuu is sat there very confused because he is buzzing with excitement but they can't tell what kind. Man relationships are real hard so is jade when you add in alien biology and customs to them please let him help you hope you aren't doing something wrong? you could never please please please just one chance Yuu one chaaaaance

The period stuff... I don't think my mind would jump to SA but certainly some sort of attack and Jade being Jade, he would not let that stand. Thankfully no one actually gets hurt since Jade asks Yuu for names and they have a very strange conversation about reproductive biology. Oh so you are bleeding because you aren't pregnant? Well that sounds like such an easy fix~ And is probably when you finally have that talk about how horny he was all last week because he asks, very earnestly asks to help you through your next "heat" so you don't have to endure this pain again.

Since you were being thirsty allow me to share some of my... thoughts (￣▽￣||)

I feel like Jade would want to take Yuu in his merform at some point if not first because he wants them to think about it. He wants to ruin them for anyone who is not very specifically him and he is not shy about it, but alas the omega decides where to build the nest and you chose "poorly." Yuu is getting their guts rearranged while Jade bullies them about their poor nest building skills. It's ok, he just finds you so cute maybe he'll walk you through it next time? Sure he's never had to build a nest, never felt the need but he's sure if you follow his instructions nice and slowly you'll do just fine.

You wind up in Ramshackle's tub more than once. Just don't complain about not being able to remember most of it because he'll just take that as you wanting a redo. Say less, he's been good for too long anyway *smack*

[the-boy-meets-evil]

can't run away | vernon

summary: running is the only life you've ever known. running away from your home planet, running away from anyone that gets too close, running away from officials, running from other smugglers. it's not easy but it's better than the pain that comes with staying in place and definitely better than getting caught. everyone has heard of you but nobody actually knows you. the last thing you want is to take on a passenger, especially when that passenger is a robot from one of the most popular groups in the universe. why would you let him stay when nobody else ever has? pairing: ai!vernon x smuggler!afab!reader word count: 15.6k genre: sci-fi au, angst, fluff (?) warnings/content: vernon is an automaton, reader is a smuggler (across the galaxy), references to injury (when vernon escapes, to reader as well), questionable methods of finishing a job (reader), suggestions/implications of sex/hook-ups (reader x unnamed characters), questionable legality on the jobs, exploring emotions for automatons, fights, open/ambiguous ending rating: mature (this is SFW but i prefer only people 18+ interacting with my blog) a/n: thank you so much to @idyllic-ghost for this incredible collab and this banner. i don't think i would've written a sci-fi fic otherwise and it's been so much fun. check out all the other amazing fics here! also thank you to the loml @hot-soop for *volunteering* to read through this fic. you're an angel. finally, thank you to @strawberryya for letting me use your brain and your planet.

“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

“Chirron,” you call and wait for his hum to let you know he’s listening, “we have to go. Like 10 minutes ago.”

“Why don’t you try something helpful?” he shoots back at you. 

“The last time I got near the controls, you slapped my hands and shrieked,” you answer.

“I did not, it was not a shriek,” he hisses. He’s not really offended, it’s just how the two of you are. You’ve run hundreds of jobs together at this point and there’s nobody else you’d trust. And certainly nobody that’s better at getting your ship in the air and away from trouble. “And it was for a good reason. You’re a menace to society and to the controls, specifically.”

“Every button looks the same,” you huff.

“Will you just shut it for 2 seconds so I get us off this awful planet?” Chirron asks.

“Hey, this is my home planet!” you protest. You’re not sure why you’re distracting him like this when you want to leave just as badly as he does. Need to for the sake of your job.

“I swear to…” he says and stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just a minute, I’m begging you.”

There’s a retort about begging on the tip of your tongue, something you know will get under Chirron’s skin. Something you know better to say and are going to say anyway. Really, what’s the worst he could do? Except just as you’re about to say it, someone comes rushing in through the open door of your ship.

Chirron seems to register the newcomer, but says nothing. In fact, he goes back to working on one of the control panels that’s currently preventing you from leaving the planet. That leaves you to deal with this new person. Or…no, could he be an automaton? There’s something familiar about him that you can’t quite place. There’s also something that doesn’t scream human about him. Maybe the blue hair or the way he moves through expressions. He looks relieved now even though you’re a complete stranger. 

“Please, help me,” he rushes out, already moving from relief into something else. He reaches out to take your hands in his and you barely have time to register it. “I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.”

Your first instinct is to flatly tell him that you won’t help him, that you can’t. After all, you’re not exactly the type anyone looks to when they need help. A fact Chirron is always quick to point out. But, you also see that this could present an interesting opportunity for someone such as you. And maybe now you can make some begging jokes without getting your head bitten off.

“And just what are you willing to do?” you ask, arch an eyebrow as you watch the expressions cross his face. 

“Oh, well I can…you know, I could…” he sputters along and you laugh. 

Just as you’re about to take pity on him, you see a rush of guards coming through the spaceport. It’s the last thing you want to see. Your papers are solid and you’ve already made the very real excuse of needing to fix one of your systems before leaving the planet. Then again, you’ve had enough close calls for a lifetime and you’re not really looking to add another one to that list.

As you watch, the guards talk to some other people milling about in the spaceport. The man who rudely burst onto your ship seems to catch that you’re watching something and immediately ducks down. If you weren’t a little nervous about the guards coming aboard, it would be comical. He’s literally not even hiding behind anything.

“They lookin’ for you?” you ask quietly and clock the answer in his eyes before he even opens his mouth.

“I think so,” he says. 

You sigh and ignore Chirron looking back at you. “Back that way, there’s a door in the wall on your left. Nobody ever knows it’s a door, but run your hand on the wall, you’ll feel it.”

“What?” he asks.

“Go,” you hiss and walk towards the open door.

It’s perfecting timing, too, because two of the guards are approaching. One of them, thankfully, is one you’ve dealt with before. And it’s mostly been positive. At least you know he can’t seem to stay away when you breeze in and out of this part of the planet. With any luck, he’s in a good mood. 

“Thought that was your ship,” he says with a smirk, ignoring the look from the other guard. 

“Guilty,” you smile. “Always nice to see you, Kyun.”

“You two know each other?” the other guard asks skeptically. 

“Sure, she runs cargo,” Changkyun says. You can’t fully fight the smile because you know it means you’re safe after all. The two of you have spent enough time in his bed, post hook-up, for him to know that’s not the whole story.

“And I would be gone already because we’re behind schedule, but we had a little mechanical trouble,” you say, laying on the act a little thick. 

“Need a hand?” Changkyun offers. 

“We’re supposed to be asking about someone,” the other guard reminds him. 

“It’s fine, we’ve got it handled anyway,” you say and send Changkyun a flirty smile before turning to his partner. “Ask away.”

“Have you seen an automaton running through here? Blue hair, about this tall, wearing a plain white shirt,” he asks and you pretend to think for a second. 

“There’s been a lot of people coming through,” you offer apologetically. “I think I did see someone with bright hair rushing off in that direction. Could’ve been blue.”

“You’re sure about the hair color?” the other guard asks. 

“Not really, it happened fast. But it could’ve been blue,” you shrug and then look like you’ve realized something. “Wait, there isn’t a reward is there?”

“Last I heard, you were doing fine,” Changkyun says and you smile as his partner walks off to share your info with a group of guards. 

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” you say with a wink. 

“Make sure you come by next time you’re here,” Changkyun says with that look you’ve seen before. 

“I will, promise,” you say. 

“Have a safe flight!” he calls. He’s already heading off to join his partner. 

When he looks back, you wave. For good measure, you look over your shoulder like Chirron said something and nod. You’re closing the hatch with a last wave to Changkyun. Once you’ve also made sure the shields to protect anyone from seeing in are activated, you head back to find your new friend. 

“Seems like people are looking for you,” you say when you open the door.

You don’t bother waiting to see if he’s going to follow you when you walk back towards Chirron at the front of the ship. The blue haired man, who still hasn’t introduced himself, follows you instantly and then ducks when he sees the windshield in front of him.

“They can’t see you,” Chirron says in a bored voice. Mostly likely unimpressed by a decision you don’t actually remember making.

“You almost done?” you ask again.

“Yes, actually, that little disruption got you to leave me alone long enough to fix it,” he says with a glare at you. “Now be quiet again.”

“So rude,” you say quietly without any bite.

“Control, Vega Three requesting clearance for take off,” Chirron states over the communication system.

“Clearance granted,” comes an immediate response. 

“Finally,” you say and take your seat next to Chirron. You twist over your shoulder to look at your unexpected guest. “I’d buckle in if I were you, sweetheart.” 

“Are you…are we taking off?” he asks, seemingly unable to sit still.

“Unless you had a different idea when you tried to sneak onto a ship,” you respond. 

“But you don’t…” he begins.

“You’ve got your reasons for wanting to get off this planet, and we’ve got ours, best to discuss those once we’re actually off the planet. So, strap in,” you instruct.

The stranger in question doesn’t need to be told a third time, thankfully. He slides into the seat behind Chirron and buckles himself in. With a sideways glance at you to confirm he’s clear, Chirron uses the recently repaired controls to get you going and safely off this planet. Even though it’s your home planet, and you definitely can linger, this job is a little sensitive. You really can’t afford to be late on the delivery, though your reputation with this buyer is spotless. It only stays spotless as long as you finish your jobs as quickly and discreetly as possible. 

If you expect the stranger to say something as Chirron navigates you out of the spaceport and into the air, you’re left wanting. When you look back, you find him relaxed back into the chair. It’s like he’s completely at ease. Or maybe just feeling a lot of relief that you let him stay on board. Or even relief that you lied to the guards. Something you do often, though he doesn’t know that. His eyes close as Chirron types in the course to autopilot until you get close to your destination. 

While the stranger rests, something kind of surprising to you given that he doesn’t know you at all, you briefly wonder if it’s sleep or just a sort of recharging. Chirron claims your attention and you quietly discuss your plans for once you get to your destination. Salax is known for…discretion. People don’t tend to ask that many questions there because of the types of humans and aliens alike that follow their desires there. But, since it’s a place for your deepest desires, people are also wary of suspicious behavior. You’ve spent plenty of time there, both for your own pleasure or, like now, for a job. 

The downside to this planet, though? It’s the type of place no robot would ever be seen. Certainly not a Level 1. They’re far too pure for that. And judging by the number of guards employed, and the fact that you were on Earth, you’re willing to bet your new passenger is a Level 1. So that’s going to add its own unique set of challenges. Something that has you buzzing with adrenaline, but has Chirron looking sterner than usual. 

“We need to know who he is,” Chirron repeats quietly.

“And we will,” you answer easily.

“If he’s a Level 1…” Chirron starts before trailing off.

“What? You’ll turn me over for the reward you asked about?” the stranger asks. You’re a little startled because you didn’t realize he had woken up. Or stopped resting, whatever.

Chirron scoffs as he takes in your amusement. “No.”

“It’s not a ridiculous question,” he insists.

“It is if you know her,” Chirron says and nods in your direction. 

“Why? You’re wondering if I’m a Level 1 so you know how high the reward is,” he insists and you finally take pity on him.

“No, I have no intention to collect some reward for you, if one even exists,” you confirm. 

“But why?” he asks. He’s fidgeting in his seat like he can’t sit still. It’s interesting to see when he was resting so peacefully without moving.

“Because,” Chirron interjects, clearly intent to take away any fun, “she prefers not to deal in things as meaningless as currency or credits.” 

“How do you live?” he asks, genuine curiosity coloring his face. 

“I’ve got enough credits to keep us going for years,” you answer vaguely.

“What else is there to work for?” the stranger wonders. 

You turn your seat fully so it’s facing him and lean forward, dropping your voice a little. “So many things, sweetheart. Favors, information, gossip…secrets.” 

His eyes go wide, like it’s something he’s never considered before. And he probably hasn’t. If he’s a Level 1, and you’d bet your ship that he is at this point, then this is so wildly out of normality for him. The Level 1s are pristine, like the celebrities of the galaxy living in luxury with someone to help keep them functioning at the highest levels. They’ll never see the types of jobs that Level 3s see, those jobs that nobody else wants to do. They’ll never work the way that Level 2s do, or have to work for humans in that way. Which isn’t to say their lives are perfect. It’s just not the kind of life where they see the dirty types of jobs that you and Chirron are used to. 

“Why don’t you give me a name, sweetheart? Unless you prefer the pet name, which is fine by me,” you say.

He hesitates, before saying, “Vernon.”

You and Chirron look at each other, like you’re both wondering why this automaton seems familiar and why everyone is looking for him.

“Well, V3RN0N actually, from 53V3NT33N,” Vernon adds.

And that makes everything fall into place. Not that you pay much attention to groups of performers like that, it’s kind of hard when you’re constantly on the move, but everyone in the galaxy knows them. Everyone in the galaxy also knows that the members just…disappeared. There isn’t much information, at least not from reputable sources, about what happened. Thankfully for you, you don’t really deal in reputable sources. So you’ve heard your fair share about the escapes, each tale sounding a little wilder than the last. You at least know someone is desperate to find all 13 of the automatons, given how popular the group is. Or maybe it’s because they’ve resorted to asking in places they’d normally never be caught to find information.

When you assure Vernon that your previous statement still stands, that you’re far more interested in your form of currency than any reward you’d get from turning him in, he relaxes a bit again. He’s worried, still, that he admitted to complete strangers who he really is, but you give him your real names. You tell him what you actually do, despite Chirron’s protests. That’s when he starts telling you all about the escape. The way that he got away, the way he doesn’t know what happened to his other members, the way he hopes they’re all okay too. 

It’s a little depressing and a lot too close to home for you to hear what life was actually like for Vernon and the other Automatons in his group. Not that you’ve ever been famous or had people across the galaxy expecting you to perform, but you know a thing or two about someone else making your decisions. Chirron knows it too, knows your story intimately, so he probably also sees where this is going before you do. 

It’s difficult, you think, to listen to Vernon talk about his experiences and why he chose to run. Humans and aliens had worked together to create these new beings. Perfected them until they were indistinguishable from humans and even gave them emotions. Yet beings like Vernon and his group are expected to just perform. To essentially serve at the wishes of the public for entertainment value. Have to uphold the highest standards and can’t ever do something that would look bad. Have to remain pure, whatever that means. 

From there, you come up with a plan. One that will at least give you time to come up with some next steps on Salax. Vernon is restless again when you share your destination. Of course he’s never been there, but he knows all about it. It’s hard to tell if he’s just nervous that he’ll look out of place or if he’s curious about what actually happens there. In either case, you need to make sure he’s prepared for the stop. There isn’t much choice anyway, you’re on a schedule and he’s just an unexpected passenger. Before he can continue protesting, you send him to the back of the ship to look through the clothes and accessories. Anything to hide who he is.

“He’s not you, you know,” Chirron offers.

“I know that,” you answer.

“Do you?” From anyone else, the question might sound accusatory. From Chirron, it only sounds concerned. 

You sigh. “I do, but what they put him through is awful.”

“He’s an Automaton,” Chirron reminds you.

“I’m well aware,” you say with a slight snap to your words. “You heard him, though. And you’ve seen the Automatons we’ve come across. It’s different.”

“Does he know what you’re going to tell them when we get to Salax?” Chirron asks, switching tactics. 

“Do you?” you ask back.

“An overly sheltered Automaton on Salax?” Chirron raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re going to bring him along as your ‘date’ who’s just testing the waters to see if it’s his thing.”

“I am not that predictable,” you retort. But you don’t disagree because you can’t.

“What else would you say?” Chirron asks.

“I don’t know, I just hope it works,” you say.

“Luckily for him, you’re a frequent visitor,” Chirron says with a shrug.

You decide to let that comment lie. Partly because you don’t want to argue with Chirron too loudly and draw Vernon’s attention. Partly because he’s not entirely wrong. You do like to spend time on Salax, looking for things that you can’t find when you’re constantly on the move. Looking for people that don’t expect you to be there when they need you. That’s something you can’t do. Chirron would ask ‘can’t or won’t’, but the difference hardly matters.

After another minute you go and check on Vernon because you really do need to get going. For a number of reasons. He’s dressed and looking like he’ll at least moderately fit in at the club you’re taking him to. It’s clear he still wants to stay on the ship, or to go with Chirron, but you remind him that won’t work. Chirron is leaving the ship to get supplies for after your errands and to make sure you’re ready to leave the planet. Even without Vernon, you don’t want to linger. Not this time. Going with Chirron to run errands would be even more suspicious. He so rarely has anyone around when he’s anywhere, let alone Salax. He keeps to himself so the appearance of a beautiful stranger would be out of character. No, it’s much easier to have Vernon with you. You’re much more likely to have someone around on this planet. And you’re certainly had enough beautiful strangers with you on Salax to blend in. You ignore the way Vernon reacts each time you call him beautiful because, really, it’s just a fact.

Vernon tags along a half step behind you when you leave the ship. You’re considering telling him to walk beside you when you think you might as well sell it. If you’re going to be telling people that he’s your pet, just someone you picked up for the time being, then it makes sense that he wouldn’t walk quite beside you. 

This club is so familiar to you. Once you’re inside, you make your way to one of the back rooms, the same room you always meet your client in every time she hires you. Nobody asks questions as it is, but certainly not of her when she books private rooms. You know she’ll be seeing someone else before or after you. Or both, knowing her. 

Thankfully, Vernon keeps his head down like you told him to while you’re winding your way through. You offer the occasional smile or nod as you see people that you know, people you’ve worked with professionally and people you know personally. Some look at your companion, but nobody says anything. Both you and Chirron were right. Though this puts Vernon in contact with more people, it’s far less conspicuous. Besides, with his hat and clothing, nobody would guess he was a Level 1. 

Circe is waiting in her back room, sprawled out on her lounger when you enter, surprisingly alone. Then again, she probably got word when you landed and then again when you entered the club. As usual, she looks completely stunning in her figure hugging outfit. It’s enough to send anyone’s mind into overdrive.

“My, my, darling,” she says as she takes in both you and your companion. “I would scold you for keeping me waiting, but you’ve brought company.”

“You know I’d never dream of keeping you waiting,” you say with a smile at her. “We were…held up a bit. Had some ship trouble.”

“And picked up a new toy,” she comments. “Please, sit.”

“Ah yes, well he’s…curious about expanding his horizons,” you say with a glance at him. The two of you sit in front of her.

“Maybe we can share,” Circe offers and you chuckle.

“Circe, love, he’s nowhere near ready for that,” you answer.

“Always keeping your prettiest toys from me,” Circe pouts.

“Now you know that’s not true,” you chastise. “The last time I was here for fun rather than work…”

“Was very fun, that’s true,” Circe concedes. “Should I assume you’re not staying around this time, then?”

“I’m afraid not,” you say and inject as much sincerity as you can.

“Would that happen to be because he’s one of those escaped Automatons?” Circe plays it off like idle curiosity and you only smile fondly.

“If he were, what kind of fool would I be to bring him here?” you wonder.

“The kind that does trust me despite your insistence that you trust nobody other than yourself and Chirron,” she answers without missing a beat.

“Well,” you shrug.

“I thought…” Vernon says quietly to you.

“Relax, whoever you are is no concern of mine. She knows I won’t blow your secret because I know that there’s nobody better in the galaxy than her at what she does,” Circe says softly.

“You flatter me,” you say. This time the sincerity comes in earnest.

Circe waves it off like it’s nothing. You also know she means what she said. “I assume you have what I sent you off for?”

“Of course,” you respond and reach into your bag.

“This is why I protect her,” Circe says, leaning forward like she’s sharing a secret with Vernon. “I’ve never met anyone that can do a sensitive job for me like she can.”

“And have you met a lot of people?” Vernon asks.

Circe’s eyes sparkle. “You may be one of the only ones who can understand when I say thousands, probably.”

You watch the interaction for a moment because it’s so mundane, so simple. Shaking your head to clear the scene, you hand over a small device. Circe takes it and examines it for a second, looking over the markings on the side. Her smile is almost instant.

“This looks full,” she comments.

“It is,” you answer.

“How sensitive is the material?” Circe asks. 

You hesitate and look over at Vernon. “I wouldn’t watch it with just anyone. There’s…well I don’t have to tell you that people get more honest when they’re in compromising situations.” 

This seems to amuse Circe as she watches you form your words. It’s different from how you usually are and it’s entertaining. “Are you in it?” 

“No,” you answer with a little laugh. “Someone owed me a very big favor. Well owes me several favors, actually. He’s not off the hook yet.”

“I’ve known you for years and I still don’t think I understand the extent of your network,” Circe observes. 

“Probably not,” you acknowledge.

“And what about you, my little mystery, what do you owe her?” Circe asks Vernon.

“I’m…” he starts, looks over at you for guidance. “I’m not sure yet.” 

“That’s dangerous,” Circe adds. 

“We haven’t really figured…” Vernon begins, still very nervous. “She got me off Earth.”

“That’s actually part of what I needed to talk to you about. I need to get him an introduction to someone,” you say. Circe’s eyes turn back to you.

“To whom, darling?” she asks.

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “I need a recommendation. Someone that you trust that can help him disappear. Help him reappear as someone new.” 

Circe regards the pair of you for a moment. Probably a moment too long for Vernon’s comfort. “I can’t help you.”

Your frustration gets the better of you before you even consider the why. “Can’t or won’t?” 

“Pumpkin,” Circe says, full of affection and patience that you’re not sure you deserve. “I know the kind of favors you’re offering for something like this. I’d be stupid to turn it down if I could help you, but unfortunately I like you too much to pull the wool over on you.”

“Why can’t you help?” This, at least, comes out calm.

“I’m not sure where to turn, not now at least. There are too many people looking for him,” Circe admits.

You sigh heavily at that. In the seven years that you’ve known Circe, this is a first. It’s the first time you’ve ever presented her with a problem that she couldn’t solve. It leaves you feeling a little helpless, a feeling that you really don’t enjoy. Maybe she takes a little bit of pity on you because she does tell you to see one of her workers before you leave. He can help Vernon look a little different, at least. That’s all she can do, though, and she knows she’s still going to owe you after this. 

So you’re going to have to take Vernon with you, at least for now. You feel some amount of responsibility, even though he jumped onto your ship. But he’s far too sheltered for this life, too innocent, too naive. He isn’t hard around the edges like you, doesn’t know that he can’t trust anyone, hasn’t been hurt by people he depended on. 

You finish up the conversation with Circe and say your goodbyes. It completely slips your notice that Vernon isn’t right behind you when you head out the door.

“Wait a moment,” Circe says, lightly grabbing Vernon’s arm.

He looks down at the place her hand touches his arm before meeting her eyes again. The confusion on his face must be clear.

“Be careful with her,” Circe says. Vernon’s eyebrows only knit further in confusion. “I love her dearly, but it always comes at a price. She’s the kind of girl you’d name one of those hurricanes after back on Earth.”

“I’m not sure…” Vernon tries to begin. Circe waves a hand to quiet him.

“She’s wild and wonderful,” Circe says with a soft smile that only lingers a second. “But she will destroy everything in her path.”

Vernon is about to say something when you pop your head back through the door. “There you are, come on. We should really get going.”

Vernon looks back at Circe, tries to make some kind of sense of what she said. It’s pointless, though, and instead he just follows you out without a word.

If Vernon is expecting you to head straight back to the ship, he’s mistaken. You wind through the hallways like you’ve been through a hundred times before. Which is entirely possible, it’s not like Vernon knows much about you or your history. He just knows he couldn’t navigate back out if he got lost, so he stays close. It’s not that has a bad memory, it’s just that his brain is currently on overdrive. He’s thinking about what Circe said about you. But he’s also just taking in all the things he never even knew existed.

It doesn’t seem like you’re heading anywhere, even when you stop. The room is empty except for a large desk in the center. Vernon wants to ask what it is you’re doing. One look at your face tells him not to. You quickly reach into one of the drawers, like it’s the most normal thing, and pull out another device that looks like the one you gave to Circe. You stow the device in a pocket that Vernon hadn’t even noticed and make your way back out without another word.

In fact, you don’t speak again until you’re back on the ship. Vernon has a second to note that Chirron is missing before you head to the control panel and start pressing buttons. The door closes and something seems to shift with the windshields. It’s like the ship is going into some sort of shut down. You walk back past Vernon to a table and slide into one side of the booth. Vernon takes the cue and slides in across from you.

“So that didn’t exactly go as planned,” you observe. 

“You were expecting her to help,” Vernon says and you nod. 

“Circe knows everyone, has eyes and ears everywhere, so it’s…well I don’t want to scare you, but it’s concerning that she can’t help hide you,” you say.

“Maybe I should just go back,” Vernon wonders out loud.

“Look, you ran away for a reason and I know the kind of desperation it takes to just…run onto some random ship,” you let him know. “I’m not really sure why I’m helping, but I’m going to help. There’s just one rule.”

“What is it?” Vernon asks. He already knows he’s going to agree.

“Whatever I say, you have to follow,” you say. It sounds so simple, Vernon is sure there’s some kind of catch when you continue. “If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. If I say leave me behind, you have to.”

“But…” Vernon starts and you shake your head.

“I’m going to try to find a solution, but I have to keep working too. And this isn’t exactly a safe line of work,” you tell him.

“I’d gathered,” he says before he can stop himself. You chuckle.

“At least you’re observant,” you say.

Since Chirron isn’t back yet, you send off a quick message to him that you’re going off the ship for one more quick stop. That you’ll be back within the hour and ready to go if he is. With that out of the way, you take Vernon to see Circe’s friend about blending in a little better. You’re just hoping that this isn’t going to be a waste. And also hoping that nobody recognizes him in the meantime because the last thing you need is for your name to be plastered next to his.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Two hours later, you’re all back on the ship and taking off. With a quick message to Circe, you thank her and request that she keep you updated if she hears anything interesting. Thankfully, she seems to know what that means and there’s nobody better to keep an eye out. Vernon looks different, too. His hair is a different color and style, his eyes are no longer the same shade, his clothing is entirely different, even some of the shape of his face is different. Despite his protests, you also got him a face mask and sunglasses to wear. Although he thinks that it’ll make him stand out, you insist that in your line of work, it’s standard.

Although you know you need to talk, you tell Vernon that it’s time for you all to get at least a little sleep. Chirron put it on the slow track to allow everyone a chance to rest before getting to their next stop. It’s standard practice for the two of you, but entirely foreign to Vernon. 

Once you wake up again, it’s time to talk. “We need a story.” 

You, Chirron, and Vernon are sitting at the table in the main part of the ship. The ship itself is on autopilot to your next stop, which Chirron says will take at least 3 more hours.

“Better late than never, I guess,” Chirron says.

“Would you stop being grumpy?” you fire back.

“No,” Chirron answers without hesitation.

“Uh, a story for what?” Vernon interrupts.

“Who you are and why we’ve let you join our missions.” Chirron gives the straightforward answer before you can be a smartass. 

“Does there need to be a story?” Vernon asks, causing Chirron to sigh.

“Yes, there does,” is all Chirron says.

You shoot him a look. “Our entire livelihood depends on us staying off the wrong radars, which we’ve been good at. But it also depends on our current…clients continuing to trust us. You’re new. And while our reputation is excellent, we tend to deal with a lot of people who value privacy and secrecy over everything.”

“So she can’t just tell them we’ve picked up a rogue celebrity on the run and just go with it,” Chirron says.

“Maybe I should just…” Vernon starts.

“What? Get off the ship and try to hide on your own?” you wonder. 

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Remember what I said when you got on the ship? The one rule is to do what I say?” Vernon nods at your question. “That’s still in effect, sweetheart.”

“So what’s the plan?” Chirron asks you.

“What are you good at? Besides singing and dancing?” You direct this question at Vernon.

“Rapping, not singing,” Vernon corrects quietly. “What?” you ask.

“I rapped, I didn’t sing,” Vernon tells you. “And I produced some of our tracks. In my free time, when I actually got it, I played a lot of games.” 

You’re looking at Vernon like he just handed you the easiest line and he doesn’t realize it. His head is down, he’s not confident about anything he said. But you know better. You know that he just handed you the perfect solution.

“You any good with tech, then?” You try to throw out the question casually. 

Chirron actually approaches a smile then. He knows where this is going and enjoys the way Vernon’s head pops up. It’s almost endearing the way his eyes go wide and he looks innocent again.

“Uh, yeah, I’m decent with it. I, well I used to try and practice any time I could get my hands on any tech. I had to use all the programs to produce the songs, so I got pretty good at it,” Vernon says.

“Chirron, I’d like you to meet our new tech specialist,” you announce and Chirron chuckles. 

“Bout time I didn’t have to stumble my way through reprogramming shit,” Chirron says.

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Look, I’ve got plenty of old tech on the ship that you can practice on. After the next job, we’d planned a break anyway. So, for real, I won’t pick up anything new…” you start to outline.

“Thank fuck,” Chirron whispers, silenced by your look.

“And we can lay low at our place while you figure out if you’re really our new tech guy,” you say. 

“Your place?” Vernon asks.

“Yeah, I mean we’re not always on the move,” you say with a shrug. 

“Okay, might as well try, I guess,” Vernon says.

“That’s the spirit,” you encourage.

Vernon shits in his seat and winces. It’s the first time that you’re actually looking at the way his body moves. You hadn’t even looked when he changed or when he had his appearance worked on, hadn’t checked for injuries or done any of that. You’re not used to having someone new around. For all yours and Chirron’s faults, both of you trust the other and know well enough to admit if you’ve been hurt. This new addition doesn’t.

He winces again and runs a hand over his chest, something he clearly hopes you don’t notice. You do, though. His eyes meet yours and he looks scared, like he’s still not sure if he can trust you. Like he’s still on edge with every move.

“Are you okay?” you ask, voice gentle so you don’t scare him.

“This is all a bit weird to get used to,” Vernon answers.

“That’s not what I meant,” you level. 

“It’s nothing,” he insists. 

“Vernon, if we’re all gonna be in this, then you have to tell us what’s going on,” you say with as much care as you can muster. Certainly more care than Chirron is used to.

“It’s not that bad, it could be a lot worse, it’s just…well it’s the communication device that I used to have. My manager, he had to stay behind, he’d been loosening it for weeks so it wasn’t as painful when it came out but I had to run before he could finish. And I almost got caught trying to have someone fix it for me,” Vernon says. 

“You’re going to need to let us see,” Chirron says. Vernon looks between the two of you before he lifts his shirt over his head. Beneath it, he’s wearing a bandage that wraps around his body. You lean forward to start unwinding the wrapping, needing to get a look. It’s weird, you think, to brush your fingers against his skin and have it feel so much like your own. Weirder still is seeing the partial hole leftover in his chest. You can see where some of the edges need to be smoothed and where he needs to keep it covered. Vernon doesn’t seem nervous under your touch, which reminds you that he’s not actually human, despite how much his upper body seems like he would be. 

“Chirron, can you go get me my toolkit?” you ask.

“What are you going to do?” Vernon asks suspiciously. 

“I’m going to do everything I can to make it more comfortable while we’re on the ship and then we can figure out next moves once we land,” you say.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Vernon protests and you just raise an eyebrow. 

Chirron reappears with a box and stifles a chuckle at the scene. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“How do you know what to do?” Vernon tries a different question.

“She worked as a Automaton mechanic for almost a year,” Chirron answers, taking your fun of torturing him away.

“I thought you were a criminal,” Vernon admits and this does make Chirron laugh. You join in. 

“I’m a lot of things, sweetheart, I’ve lived a very full life,” you say and don’t offer any further explanations. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Back home, you get settled and suggest you all get some rest before you decide on next moves. You know that Vernon doesn’t actually sleep now, but you also know he has to recharge. Which is all sleep is anyway, so you send him off to his own area to recharge. Once you’re all awake again, Chirron helps you come up with a more permanent solution to the whole where Vernon’s communication device used to be. It’s painful, you know that it’s painful for him and you wish you could help. But you can’t. All you can do is help him through it and know that when you’re done, he shouldn’t be in pain anymore. He takes even longer to recharge after you’re done. When he emerges, though, he does feel a lot better and he’s incredibly thankful.

It’s been just over three weeks since Vernon ran onto your ship without looking back. Just about three weeks since you finished the last job after leaving Salax. Chirron has loved every minute of getting to take the break. In fact, you’ve gone entire days without seeing him while he takes time for himself. It’s one of the longer breaks you’ve taken and he’s actually enjoying it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t like to be still. Don’t like to be stationary. It gives you entirely too much time to think and to remember all the reasons you’re in this position now. For the first few days, you tried to give Vernon his space like Chirron. He had more tech and gadgets than he’d seen in his entire existence, which is good. It seemed like he was enjoying getting to work on them and learn as he went. Annoyingly, he took to it almost immediately.

But then he seemed to realize that you didn’t like to be left to your own devices. That you’re the opposite of Chirron and would probably never stop moving if you had the choice. So he asks if you would be willing to keep him company while he works through things, insists that he doesn’t need silence in order to work. Actually, he thinks that he’s gotten a good handle on it and it would be better having you around. Even though you look skeptical, you take him up on the offer. 

While Vernon works (and occasionally curses at something, using a swear word he learned from you), he asks about your life. Usually you keep all of that to yourself. It’s not really comfortable for you to share the parts of your past. But this isn’t a normal situation. Meeting someone like Vernon isn’t an everyday occurrence. So you find yourself telling him things that it took you months or years to tell Chirron without giving it a second thought. Everything just feels…easy. There’s no other word. Vernon has experienced things you couldn’t ever imagine, but he’s still so new at people and interactions. There’s no fear of judgment with him. It’s almost refreshing. 

Vernon listens intently as you talk about your childhood and how you got to where you are now. It’s hard for him to really imagine having parents like yours that loved you and cared for you. That’s not an experience or relationship he’s had, even as close as he is to his other members. When you start to talk about things getting harder, you pick up a communication device to start fidgeting with it. Something you may not even realize but Vernon has learned enough of human emotion to know you’re uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that you stop talking, just unused to talking about this part of your past. The emotion is clear on your face when you talk about losing your parents, even for Vernon to pick out. Although you insist they weren’t perfect, they were all you had and you were way too young to try and make it on your own. Yet that’s exactly what you had to do. Exactly what landed you here. 

It surprises Vernon when you’re equally as interested in hearing about his experiences up until this point. About how others interacted with him, about what his emotions are like, about just generally how he feels. Which catches him off guard. He can’t remember a time in his existence where someone has actually wanted to know how he was doing in that way. Sure, people cared that he was performing at the top level and there were plenty across the galaxy that claimed to care about him. But Vernon could not recall someone asking him how he felt about any of it like he had a choice to feel anything at all. Not until you, that is. 

So that made Vernon want to talk. He started at the easiest place to tell you about performing and about his members. Even with the space and distance from them, he thinks he did genuinely care for them, genuinely enjoy being around them. He realizes that he enjoyed the performing aspect of it too. What he found he didn’t enjoy was the control and the treatment behind the scenes. He was always a commodity, always expected to do as he was told. Never permitted to see other parts of the world, interact with others the way he might want to. None of his time was ever truly free, his every move was watched. It was fine, at the beginning of Vernon’s consciousness, to live that way. 

However, as Vernon became more aware of the universe around him, he began to feel that he was missing something. He wanted to see more, know more, experience more. It made him restless. Sure, he’s not human, or even alien, and he can’t bleed or die the way others can. But he was given consciousness, given the ability to think and move freely, the ability to form bonds with others, the ability to question. With that had come the thought of something more than he currently had. All of that had led him to this moment. 

It’s hard, hearing about the life Vernon led. But you can also see how talking about his feelings with someone that cares changes him. He’s able to sort through feelings that he never considered before. It’s really nice to be able to offer that to him, to be able to support him in such a human way. Whatever else is true about the Automatons, they clearly have enough consciousness that they deserve to be treated far differently. 

It also naturally flows into you sharing what work actually looks like for you and Chirron. And Vernon now that he’s joining the team. You outline the jobs you take, the types of clients you have, the methods that you use to get a job done. Vernon seems a little wide-eyed at some of the jobs you take or how you get them done. But that’s when you remind him that getting a job done by any means necessary is kind of your whole motto. He doesn’t have to worry, you’ll never put him or Chirron in a compromising situation and never ask either of them to do something they’re not comfortable with. If it’s something…compromising, you’ll always do that yourself or call in a favor from your network. Although Vernon doesn’t look like he likes the answer, he accepts it.

Neither you or Vernon notice the moment when your days shift. What started as the two of you going about your days separately before ending up chatting about something turned into being together throughout the day, not even really tracking the last time Chirron had been by. Although you assured Vernon it wasn’t really an issue, both you and Chirron wore bracelets with trackers in them so you’d always know where the other was. That’s a relief, because honestly Vernon likes this comfort between you and him. He does ask if he should get a bracelet too and you say that you’ll get him one as well. 

Finally, though, all good things must come to an end. You manage to call Chirron back so that you can move forward with your plan. Everyone is still looking for Vernon and his other members, but it seems that nobody has reported any sightings. At least not of Vernon. 

“Are you ready to move back out?” you ask Chirron over dinner.

“If we must,” he sighs. Then he turns to Vernon. “Though I should thank you, actually, she’s never stayed still for this long.”

“Not like she’s stayed still while we’ve been here,” Vernon offers. 

“Hey,” you protest. 

“You haven’t,” Vernon doubles down. He’s different now, much more comfortable pushing back against you like an equal rather than someone who just needs to be saved. 

“This is still unprecedented for her,” Chirron says. “I was sure we’d be back on a job within the first week.” 

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt. 

“Do you have a job lined up for us?” Chirron asks.

“Several, just deciding the right one. I’m going to reach out to Circe first, though, on the unsecured line just to plant the first seeds,” you say.

This is part of the plan. You trust Circe, despite your insistence that you don’t trust anyone, but you can never be too careful. So you have two ways to talk. One is the most secure, locked down communicator in the galaxy and it’s strictly for sensitive jobs or when you can’t drop in to see her in person. It’s how she’s been keeping you updated on any rumblings about Vernon. The other is for things that wouldn’t matter so much if someone else saw it. 

You: hey love, just wanted to let you know that we finally expanded the crew beyond chirron and myself Circe: about time, who’s the new addition? You: he goes by sol, caught the fucker trying to hack one of my comms and offered him a job on the spot Circe: only you Circe: so you finally have a tech specialist? You: looks like it Circe: well stop by the next time you’re in the area, first round’s on me

Vernon offered up that he was also called Hansol as an actual name. Though he preferred to keep going by Vernon, Sol would make for a good name to resurface under. Nobody would be able to put those two together, so it seemed safe while still ringing at least partly true. You taught him that the best cover stories or lies had a little bit of truth to them. It made it easier to navigate. 

Predictably, after reaching out to Circe, you got several more job requests. Each one came with a message that they’d heard about the new addition to your team and were looking forward to hiring you even more. Which is exactly what you wanted. Although the other two had initially been skeptical, they had come around. There was undeniable logic in the idea of Vernon hiding in almost plain sight. Nobody in their right mind would go looking for a missing Automaton on a ship of questionable legality that made frequent stops on a planet like Salax. Everything in his programming should have stopped that.

Which just leaves picking a job to start with, something you do all the time. Vernon can tell you’re a bit nervous, and he is too honestly, but it’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.

“I’m just gonna remind you before we head out,” you start, allowing Chirron to go ahead onto the ship, “you can leave any time you want. After the first two jobs, that is.” 

“But you’re still gonna be doing this, right?” Vernon asked.

“Yeah,” you answer quickly.

Vernon shrugs. “I’m with you then.” 

“Vern,” you caution. He only shakes his head.

“I wanna stick by you, you’re the first person that’s ever given a shit about me,” he says. 

That makes your heart skip a beat, which you don’t really have time to consider since you’re supposed to be taking off any minute now. In fact, if you don’t follow Vernon onto the ship, you’re sure that Chirron is going to come storming off to yell at you for holding them up. There are certain windows that you need to operate in. So you file the feeling away to be dealt with later, like so many other things in your life, and get on the ship. You still have a team to run. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Everything goes fine with Vernon on the team. At least for a while. That’s the good thing about the type of work you do. Nobody really asks that many questions about your team or your backgrounds or where you were before. Nobody really cares, honestly, when your reputation is spotless and you’ve never missed a job. Honestly, you think that this whole situation is pretty perfect. Even Chirron, ever the pessimist, seems satisfied. 

Which is why you don’t see the issue coming. You should, you know it’s your job to see every possible outcome and calculate the likelihood of success, but you don’t see this one. Don’t anticipate something going wrong because of Vernon nearly blowing your cover. Don’t even consider that he might have an issue now, when it’s been weeks, with your methods for getting something done. Don’t think that you have to remind him that the number one rule when it comes to jobs is by any means necessary. 

Yet that’s what happens. He turns remarkably human, even with the restlessness that you’ve come to expect, when the three of you are sitting with an unsuspecting mark. Another human that doesn’t realize you’re on a job rather than just enjoying some drinks on a night out. You’re getting ready to take the mark to a backroom so that you can get the information you need and Vernon seems like he wants to stop you. Actively tries to delay you, actually.

“Baby, it’s getting a little crowded in here, why don’t you go ahead and see about a room reservation,” you say, offering your most seductive smile. The mark hesitates for a moment, thrown off by Vernon’s last comments.

“I would hate to get in the way…” he begins and your hand is on his arm immediately.

“I assure you, you’re not,” you say with eyes only for him. “I promise, I’ll meet you at the desk in just a minute.”

“How can I say no to that?” he asks, enamored with you again. Like too many before him.

The second he’s out of earshot, Vernon exhales and opens his mouth to say something. You’re quick to plaster on the same smile. 

“Chirron, take him back to the ship and wait for me there,” you say quietly, making sure nobody can hear you and nobody realizes you’re unhappy.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just…” Vernon starts.

“Not here,” you respond quickly, keeping the smile in place.

“Okay, but…” Vernon tries again, but Chirron is nudging him out of the booth.

“Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving,” he says without bothering to be quiet. He knows your moves well enough to play along.

“All you think about is food,” you jibe affectionately.

“Don’t take too long, we’ve still got work to do,” Chirron calls over his shoulder as he leads Vernon away.

You watch the two of them disappear into the crowd before you join the mark. Thankfully, he seems so taken by your flirting that he accepts your excuses of your friends being hungry. Everyone gets a little cranky, he sympathizes. The desk attendant offers you the key to one of the private rooms and you lead the way, feeling the mark following you without needing to check. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a little longer than normal and definitely longer than you’d like before you’re also headed back to the ship. This mark needed a little more foreplay before he was ready to spill the secrets that you need. Or maybe you’re a little off your game from the near issue that Vernon created. You know you’re good, you’ve done this enough times to know that you can be irresistible, but you don’t like unexpected interference. You definitely don’t ever expect that to come from your own team. And you don’t like having to resort to different plans, like you did tonight. Normally, you don’t take it that far. No matter. You got what you needed.

Once you’re heading back to the ship, you fire off a quick message to Chirron to ask if he’s got any food leftover on the ship. He knows it’s code. You’re asking if he actually went to get something to eat or if they went straight back to the ship. His answer comes immediately. They do have food, he lists off what the leftovers are, but you took too long and it might be cold. A suggestion to get your own food if you’re hungry. And also a suggestion to take an extra beat if you need it before you come back to the situation on the ship. So you take heed and pick up some food from your favorite stand before returning to the ship.

Both Chirron and Vernon are sitting in the booth as soon as you turn around from closing the hatch. Chirron looks tired, like he’s run an entire marathon in the time since you parted ways. Vernon looks restless, like he’s barely able to stay seated. Maybe that’s why Chirron looks so worn out.

“What the fuck, Vernon?” you ask as soon as you’re sitting down and setting out your food.

“What do you mean?” he asks as if it’s a completely unreasonable question.

“You nearly blew our cover!” you retort. 

“Because you were going to…you were taking him, you were going to…” he stutters out.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was going to fuck him,” you cut over him.

He blanches at the bluntness of your statement. Even after all the time he’s been around you, he’s still surprised. “Well that’s just…you shouldn’t have to do that.”

Your eyes flick to Chirron, as if you’re asking what he’s been doing the last two hours that you were indisposed. 

“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” Chirron says. Vernon glances between the two of you. It’s still foreign to him that you can communicate without using any words.

“No, I don’t,” Vernon agrees. 

“Well, you should,” you say flatly. “Chirron is just as much in charge as I am. Whatever he says, also goes.”

“Not when it comes to you doing…that,” Vernon says.

“No, that was my choice,” you agree. 

“And you shouldn’t have done it,” Vernon argues.

“According to who, Vern?” you ask. 

“You just shouldn’t have to…use your body like that,” he says and looks down. He’s embarrassed, but you’re not sure why.

“Sweetheart, you knew the game. I told you that jobs get done by whatever means necessary. I told you that I’d never ask you or Chirron to do what I did, but that if it came to it, I would do it,” you explain.

“I didn’t think you were serious,” he says quietly.

“So, what? You thought you’d come in like some Knight to protect my honor and risk blowing the job?” You’re a little incredulous at that.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t like the idea of you and that guy…” Vernon starts and stops. Chirron, thankfully on the edge of the booth, gets up then.

“We need some supplies before we leave here. I’ll go grab them,” he says and leaves before either you or Vernon can object. 

“What was the first rule, Vernon?” you ask when the silence gets too deafening.

“That we finish jobs by any means necessary, I know,” he huffs out.

“No, the real first rule. When I agreed to help you,” you prompt, voice soft. He finally looks up at you. He knows and doesn’t want to say. “That, no matter what, you had to listen to what I told you.”

“I know,” he answers like a defeated man.

“Then why didn’t you?” you press.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just…I knew you were about to go into that back room with that guy and I knew how far you’d be willing to go to get what we need and it just…it made me mad.”

“Mad?” you ask. “Why are you mad?” 

Vernon is frustrated, you recognize it immediately. Not because of what you did, or not entirely, at least. He’s frustrated because he’s feeling an emotion that he doesn’t understand and doesn’t know how to describe. This isn’t the first time you’ll have to walk him through sorting it out. But it is the first time you’re not sure if you can. You’re nervous about what he’s feeling and why.  Nervous about what he’s going to say. Nervous about what he’s actually feeling. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. He’s frustrated. He doesn’t like not understanding how he’s feeling. “I just, I had this feeling in my stomach when you started making plans with that guy and I didn’t like it.”

“That’s understandable,” you offer.

“Is it?” His question comes quickly. “I wanted to, I don’t know, I wanted to tell him to get lost or just tell us what we needed to know but stop looking at you like you’re a meal. Or like you’re something to win. You’re not a thing, you’re a person.”

You’re relieved, mostly, because you think you can identify this emotion in a way that doesn’t complicate an already overly complicated situation. Your smile at him is soft, sofer than he’s seen on you since you left the break between jobs. Softer than you give to anyone on jobs and far more genuine. “Yeah, it is understandable. It just means you care, you’re protective over me.”

Vernon seems to consider this for a second like he’s not entirely sure that’s it. Seems to want to say something else. “I do care about you.”

“I know you do,” you say.

“I don’t like feeling like this, like I want to protect you and I know that I can’t,” he admits. 

“It’s tough,” you agree and then decide to admit something. “I feel that way about you, too.”

“You do?” Vernon looks hopeful, like you understand.

“Course I do,” you say easily. “I feel, I’m not sure, responsible for you, I guess. Like I threw you into this life without much choice and I worry that I’m putting you in more danger than when you ran onto the ship in the first place.”

“You’re not.” He’s quick to reassure you. “Life in the last month or two with you has been better than my entire existence up to meeting you.”

That shouldn’t warm your heart, shouldn’t make it beat irregularly, shouldn’t make you feel something more than just the care you mentioned. It does, though. It’s making you feel a lot of things that you really don’t need to be feeling.

In contrast, Vernon seems much lighter. It seems like he’s relieved by understanding the care he feels for you is normal and relieved he could let you know how good things have been since he met you. It doesn’t go deeper for him, at least not now. Not when you gave him a simple name for the emotion. You don’t think he realizes that you’re in your head about the entire conversation and what this means for the two of you going forward. You don’t think he realizes that there’s another emotional explanation for his reaction and you’re not going to tell him. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Vernon thinks about that conversation with you a lot over the next several weeks of missions. He thinks about how he felt watching you make plans to go somewhere private with a person that you called a mark. He thinks about the feelings that boiled up inside of him that he described as anger when they felt like much more. He thinks of the way you react to him almost ruining a mission and how you reacted to him after you got back. He tries not to think about what you did while he waited in too much silence on the ship with Chirron. 

He spends the most time thinking about what you didn’t say. Even though he’s not sure what it was, he knows there’s something. Your face can be really expressive when your guard is down, as it usually is around him and Chirron. Part of him wants to think he reacted the way he did only because he cares about you in the same way that Chirron does. That you’re a team, some kind of weird version of a family that protects each other. But then he remembers how you went quiet after he accepted, with relief, the idea that it was only caring about you. Too many times, he finds himself wanting to ask what you didn’t say.

The three of you all agree that he should stay on the ship more during those kinds of missions. There’s really no reason for you all to be off the ship, anyway. You’re usually the only one that interacts with people like that, the only one that seems comfortable putting yourself out there like that. Vernon hates that you feel like you have to take those jobs, hates that you’re willing to go to those lengths. Although you tell him a lot, he doesn’t know that you don’t mind that part of it. That you don’t see yourself as someone that forms actual romantic attachments, that sex is just sex for you. Just another part of life. 

It’s another mission where you think you may need to get close to a mark, another mission where you think you may need a back room without prying eyes. Whatever that means. This time, Chirron offers to stay on the ship with Vernon. He says it’s because there’s some things he needs to work on, but Vernon sees it for what it is. He doesn’t want to leave the newest team member alone. Chirron is much more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for.

“You know, I never asked you,” Chirron starts, causing Vernon to look up from the transponder he’s fiddling with. “What were you hoping for when you ran onto our ship?”

Vernon considers this for a moment. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet also feels like it was just yesterday. “I’m not sure. I think I just hoped that I could catch my breath long enough to figure out my next move.”

“Not join a team that takes on illegal jobs across the galaxy?” Chirron asks, that dry humor surfacing again.

“No,” Vernon agrees with a small chuckle.

“Why do you stay?” Chirron wonders.

“Trying to get rid of me?” Vernon asks in response.

“No,” Chirron answers immediately. “No, having you around has been good for her. For both of us, really. I’m just curious about why you stay when you don’t have to. Is it just because you don’t have anywhere else to go?”

Vernon, thankfully, is used to Chirron’s way of speaking. So he knows there’s nothing malicious behind the question, only curiosity. 

“No, it’s not that. Not that I have some idea of where to go beyond that one sanctuary planet I’ve heard of,” Vernon says. “I like being around both of you. It feels like I belong? I haven’t felt like this before. It’s nice. Kind of like a feeling of being warm all over.”

“I’m glad,” Chirron says genuinely. 

“I don’t like this part though,” Vernon says and shifts in his seat again.

“The waiting?” Chirron wonders, but there’s something on his face that Vernon can’t place. Thankfully, he carries on. “Or the waiting when you know what she’s doing?” 

Vernon frowns at that. He’s still not sure he has the right name for this feeling. “Why does she put herself in positions like this?”

Chirron shrugs. “Don’t know. I’ve tried to tell her that some jobs aren’t worth it, but it’s like she has to prove something. To who, I’m not sure.”

“You don’t stop her, though,” Vernon observes.

“No, I don’t,” he agrees. 

“Why?” Vernon presses.

“Because, as you saw on that mission a few weeks ago when she sent us away, she’s going to do it anyway. I know the difference between when something is actually dangerous and when it’s just not what I would do. So I let her go unless it’s actually dangerous,” Chirron says. 

“It still doesn’t feel good,” Vernon admits. 

“No, because you care about her,” Chirron says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Of course I do, I care about both of you,” Vernon says. “You care about her too.”

“I do,” Chirron agrees and that look is back, “but not the same way as you do, I don’t think.”

“Are there multiple ways to care for someone?” Vernon asks. 

Chirron chuckles, a low, comforting sound. “Of course. There’s the way her and I care about each other, like family. Like someone that could drive you absolutely insane, but you still love them and you’d still be there for them in a friendly way.”

“And what’s the other way?” Vernon wonders.

“Caring about them like you have feelings for them. Like they’re the first one on your mind when you wake up or the last one on your mind before you go to sleep. Like you just want to be around them and feel a little empty when you’re not. Like you’re not entirely sure what you’d do if one day they just weren’t there anymore,” Chirron explains.

“Oh,” is all Vernon can say. 

“I don’t know how you feel, or how she feels, but it doesn’t seem like just the kind of caring like it is between her and I,” Chirron says. “I love her and I’d do anything to protect her, but I don’t have feelings for her.”

“Do I?” Vernon asks quietly.

“I don’t know, only you can figure that out,” Chirron says. 

Feelings are difficult, Vernon thinks as he contemplates Chirron’s explanation. Every time he thinks that he’s got a handle on them, something else comes up to throw him for a loop. His body almost relaxes to help the fact that his mind is going entirely too fast. Chirron, seeming to sense that he gave Vernon a lot to think about, goes back to what he was working on before the conversation. 

It’s easy to be around Chirron, something Vernon has known since the beginning. But now he realizes that it’s easy in an entirely different way than being around you. With Chirron, there’s a comfort and a familiarity and definitely a care. Just like he describes feeling about you. With you, it’s entirely different. Vernon finds himself wondering about your past, wanting to know every detail even though you’ve shared a lot. He wants to know what you think, especially when you go silent. What thoughts are you keeping to yourself and why don’t you want to share them? 

The worst, though, is easily the way Vernon feels when you’re off on your own like this. He’s not sure how to put it into words or how to even Chirron about it. Or if he even wants to ask Chirron about it. He just knows that he doesn’t like it, that it makes him feel unsteady and unfocused. That he makes mistakes on whatever he’s working on when he thinks of this aspect of the jobs. It’s like he wants to lash out at the marks or the clients that hire them in the first place. He wants to let these people know that you’re not actually interested in them. That it’s only for work. But is that true? 

“Chirron, can I ask you something?” Vernon finally asks.

“Sure,” Chirron says. He’s much more relaxed around Vernon, probably because he doesn’t try to rile Chirron up.

“I’ve got this feeling that I’m not sure about, it pops up when we’re on missions like these,” Vernon begins before outlining just how he feels when he thinks about what you’re doing.

Chirron is quiet, thoughtful as he listens, giving Vernon his full attention. He lets Vernon finish uninterrupted before he’s quiet for a second. “Well, it sounds like jealousy.”

“Jealous of who? Of her?” Vernon asks. He knows what jealousy is, just like every other emotion, because it’s simply knowledge of the existence of emotions. He doesn’t know how it feels though, not really. Like every other emotion, it’s something he’s had to learn as he goes.

“Of the people she’s with,” Chirron answers, amused.

“Why would I be jealous of them?” Vernon asks. 

“I can’t tell you the why, Vernon, you know that,” Chirron says without any hint of frustration. “I can just say what it sounds like. Which is that you’re jealous she’s behind closed doors with someone other than you.”

“You think I want…to do that, I don’t even know…I’m not sure how something like that would even work,” Vernon splutters, tripping over his words worse than he’s done in a while. 

Chirron takes pity on him and only gives him a sympathetic look. It allows Vernon to gather his thoughts before he says anything else. A blessing, actually, because a minute later, the door opens to allow you back onto the ship. You look a little like you’ve been up to something that Vernon doesn’t really want to consider. Like you tried to straighten yourself out again, but couldn’t quite get everything. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice the tension in the air and just immediately go to pull out something to eat. Life moves on for you like nothing else happened.

Thankfully, Vernon can pretend he’s working on reprogramming a communicator, something he needs to do for a job anyway, and stay back away from the cockpit of the ship. He also knows that you’ll eat up there with Chirron to talk about how things went. To talk through the finer details of the information you were able to extract. You don’t talk to Vernon about those details and he doesn’t stop to think about why. He’s just glad you don’t. Not that you go into explicit detail with Chirron. It’s just…well maybe Chirron is right. Maybe Vernon is jealous because he’s got deeper feelings for you. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It’s supposed to be easy. That’s what you say. You don’t take on jobs that would put the team at too much of a risk and you don’t ask them to do anything they don’t want to do. You haven’t even taken on a job recently where you’d have to leave Vernon and Chirron on the ship while you entertained a mark. This is an exception, you say, too good of a job to pass up given that it should be simple. So simple.

Vernon makes it back to the ship before Chirron does, which makes sense. All Vernon had to do was meet with one of your contacts to swap out some tech he’d been using. After all this time, Vernon isn’t entirely sure what Chirron does when he’s off the ship. He asked once and didn���t get a straight answer. You shrugged it off and said that Chirron does a lot of things, some of which you don’t even know or understand. When you didn’t seem concerned, Vernon let it go as well.

Once Chirron gets back, Vernon pays more attention to the feeling in his stomach since you agreed to this mission. Something just feels…off. Not right. He’s trying not to dwell too much on it because he’s very aware it might be, at least in part, due to his feelings for you. Feelings that he now very much recognizes are real. Whatever that means for him. He hates watching you walk away when he thinks about what you’ll be doing. And he agrees it’s best for him to stay on the ship rather than risk blowing the mission. 

Except…well now he’s actually getting worried. It’s been too long since you left the ship, longer than usual. Long enough that even Chirron doesn’t shoot Vernon down when he brings up his concern. Which only serves to concern Vernon more because Chirron is almost always level. Even now, only his eyes give anything away when Vernon mentions just how long it’s been since you left the ship. After several minutes of back and forth, Chirron agrees that it should be Vernon that leaves the ship to try and find anything out about you. As much as Chirron tries to stay in the shadows, he’s been working with you for years now and people automatically associate him with you. 

So Vernon enters the building, manages to figure out where you had gone without raising any suspicions. After all, your reputation for chasing after pleasure proceeds you. Something Vernon is cursing himself for even considering. The thought flies out as soon as he’s in the room and he sees you lying on the couch, covered in cuts and bruises, only half-dressed. He’s beside you in what feels like a second, checking to make sure he feels a pulse. But, up close he can hear your slightly labored breaths. It could be worse, he reminds himself, as he gets you dressed and wraps you up. He doesn’t want it to be obvious just how beaten up you are before he’s had time to think. Or to consider what you’d do in this situation. Everything in him shuts down apart from the need to get you out a back door and onto the ship as quickly as possible.

Back on the ship, Vernon collapses into the booth while Chirron takes over and takes you into the sleeping cabin. Thankfully, Chirron knows enough basic First Aid that he’ll be able to patch you up before taking you to see a professional. Someone that you and Chirron trust enough to take you there. But, for now, he’s cleaning your wounds and wrapping you up as best he can. Vernon knows he should be helping, knows that an extra set of hands would help. He just…can’t. Can’t seem to find the strength to see you in this condition. He’s just amazed he got you back to the ship without losing it or without anyone seeing you. And thankful, so very thankful, that Chirron is keeping it together. 

Without a word, Chirron emerges from the sleep cabin and heads straight for the front of the ship. Vernon’s barely even sat down in your usual seat before the ship takes off. Chirron doesn’t fly too high, he’s just going to a different part of the planet. That’s what he said when he said that you and him knew someone that could help. It both feels like an eternity and no time at all when the ship lands again. Vernon expects to help you off the ship. Instead, Chirron tells him to stay put, that he’ll be back. 

Doc, that’s what Chirron calls him, looks like a man that’s aged beyond his actual years. He looks like he’s seen more than most people would over several lifetimes. Yet, he seems kind. Seems like he could be anyone’s father or uncle. This time, Vernon does actually follow them back to the sleep cabin, careful to stay out of the way. Doc starts taking stock of you and attaching a number of devices to various parts of your body. They start beeping and it should calm Vernon, because at least something is happening. They don’t, though. All he can think is that you shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. This was the wrong job to take. 

Vernon’s learned a lot about emotions during the time with you and Chirron, a lot more than he learned in all his time before. He knows, now more than ever, that he cares about you far beyond just being friends. He knows that he’s never felt this kind of fear. Knows that he can’t be still, even for a second. It’s always been like this, Vernon has always suffered from restlessness. It’s a million times worse now. And it’s getting in the way of your care. Somewhere in his pacing and mumbling, something he doesn’t even realize he’s doing, Chirron sends him away. Doc gives him a sympathetic look, like he understands, before turning back to you. 

It’s not any easier to be outside of the sleep cabin because Vernon can still hear everything that’s happening. The entire ship is silent except for the work Doc is doing. Not seeing what’s happening is even worse and Vernon’s restlessness turns into something more like anxiety. He can’t imagine going on without you. Not that anyone has said that would be a possibility. In fact, Doc seems to think you’ll be fine in no time. Most of the injuries are merely surface level. Chirron comes back out with a list of things that they need and tells Vernon to go take care of it. It’ll help you and help him in the process. He’s not doing anyone any good in the state he’s in now. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a few days, but you’re mostly back to your normal self. The worst part, for you, is that you fractured one of your ribs. So that means rest, Doc’s orders. Vernon was happy to hear it because it meant that you had no choice but to take a break. Chirron seemed pleased as well, saying once Doc was off the ship, he’d take you back to the homebase. 

You, however, wake up back home and seem irritated. Remind both Vernon and Chirron that you still have a job to do. Can’t seem to wrap your head around your injuries or the severity of the situation. That’s the first time that Vernon sees Chirron raise his voice with you. It’s the first time he sees the usually calm force standing firm in his position. You’re on bedrest for now so that you can actually heal. Together, you can all figure out what to tell the client. But your health is most important or it’ll be a lot longer than a matter of weeks that you’re out of commission. 

Vernon doesn’t get to listen in on the conversation about what happened. It’s Chirron’s decision, saying that he thinks it’ll just be easier. So Vernon doesn’t know what happened, not really. Sure, he can guess and probably paint at least a picture. Does he really want to know, though? He’s not sure. He doesn’t want the details of just how you were going to get the information, so maybe it’s better like this. What he does need, though, is to talk to you. Chirron gives him that chance as soon as he can, which Vernon is thankful for.

“You look better,” Vernon says after a light knock on your door frame. 

You laugh lightly and Vernon worries for a second, but you seem fine. “Wow, you really know how to butter a girl up.”

“I was worried about you,” Vernon says as he crosses to sit in the chair next to your bed.

“It takes a lot more than that guy to take me down for real, sweetheart,” you offer. 

Vernon’s jaw clenches. “Still.” 

“Hey,” you say and reach out to take his hand. “I’m really okay. I’ve had worse than this, I promise.” 

“You think that makes me feel better?” Vernon wonders with a shake of his head. 

“This is a dangerous line of work,” you say.

“I’m aware of that,” Vernon answers. 

“What’s really on your mind? Chirron’s worried about you,” you admit. 

“We could have lost you,” Vernon says, barely more than a whisper. “I could have lost you.” 

“But you didn’t,” you say gently.

“But I could have and it’s like,” Vernon presses, pausing to think of the right word. “It’s like you don’t even care. Like it’s all a joke.”

“Of course I care, Nonie,” you say. Vernon tries, and fails, to stop his heart from skipping over the nickname that falls so easily from your lips. “This is the job, I know you and Chirron were worried about what was going to happen to me…”

“This isn’t about Chirron,” Vernon snaps and you pull your hand away from his. 

“What is it about?” you ask, guard up. 

“It’s about me almost losing you. About me feeling something that I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling and then worrying I’d lose you before I ever got to tell you,” Vernon says. 

“Vernon, I don’t think…” you start again, only to fall silent at whatever look you see in his eyes. 

“I know it sounds crazy, I know what I am,” Vernon says without meeting your gaze. “We were never supposed to be more than robots. I’ve heard it all. Nobody ever could have predicted that we’d get a consciousness. Nobody seems to know what that even means or what it is. I just know that I ran from the only other beings that I’ve ever known straight onto your ship. And I thought it’d be scary or I’d regret it, but I don’t. You taught me and guided me without making me feel less than. I was teetering on the edge of way too much…whatever this restlessness is. You were like a balm for that.” “I’m glad,” you say, voice just as quiet. “It’s easy to be around you, Vernon. I’m glad you feel at ease here.”

“I don’t understand how…feelings work or what they mean, not when it comes to what I feel for you,” Vernon says. He looks at you, so hopeful. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”

“Vernon, I’m not…I don’t think I’m built for something like that,” you say, pleading for him to understand.

“You don’t care about me?” Vernon wonders.

“No, of course I do,” you disagree. “I just…I don’t know what I really feel either. I just know relationships, they’ve never been what I sought out. They get too complicated in this line of work where anything can happen.”

“So leave,” Vernon offers, like it’s so easy.

“Leave?” you question.

“Yes, quit doing this kind of work. Leave and start a new life away from all of this,” Vernon pleads.

“And what? Just abandon Chirron?” you ask angrily.

“Of course not,” Vernon retorts. “You and I both know that he only stays because you’re family to him. He doesn’t want to do this forever.”

“Is that what you and him talk about when I’m off the ship getting information?” You’re angry now, but Vernon thinks he’s a little annoyed too.

“No,” Vernon says. “The only time we’ve talked about you is when he helped me process what I was feeling. I just, it doesn’t take some kind of genius to see he stays because he cares about you.” 

“This is the only life I’ve ever known,” you say, anger subsiding to be replaced by you looking smaller than ever before.

“No it’s not,” Vernon disagrees. “You told me about your family.”

“Don’t bring them up,” you caution.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, surely you see that,” Vernon pleads again.

“If I say no, will you stay? Or are you asking me to choose between you and this entire network I’ve built over years?” As soon as you say it, Vernon knows he’s lost. Knows that you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m not asking you to choose anything,” Vernon says. “But I’m not going to continue to watch someone that I care this deeply about put herself in so much danger. So you don’t have to leave this life. I’m done, though.”

“What?” You look like you’ve been smacked.

“I’m done,” Vernon repeats. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t feel the way I do every time you leave the ship. I can’t keep wondering if I’m going to find you in an even worse position. So, I’m leaving. I’d love for you to come with me, but you’ve made your position clear.”

“So, that’s it?” you ask.

“That’s it,” Vernon confirms.

He leaves the room for long enough to say his goodbyes to Chirron, who doesn’t seem surprised that it’s going like this. He’s sad, for sure. Vernon knows what he said was true, Chirron would leave if he could, but he won’t leave you alone. The two of you are family and Vernon’s thankful that you’ll still have someone to depend on. 

There’s nothing left to say to you, nothing but all the things left unsaid. Things that he wishes he could say and things he knows you want to say. Things neither of you will say to the other. Which is fine. It has to be. Vernon has gotten a crash course in humanity, so he tries to squash down the disappointment when he says goodbye to Chirron and you don’t even bother trying to stop him. Barely registers Chirron asking where he’s going. Truthfully, he doesn’t have a plan, so he blurts out the first thing to come to mind. He’s heard of another planet, he thinks it’s called Lumen, that’s something of a sanctuary planet. He’s going to need time to get things together before he can depart. This isn’t something he’d really thought would happen. For the time being, he’s going to stay with another of your contacts that he’s worked closely with since joining the team. One of the only other beings that he trusts apart from you and Chirron.

Just like that, he’s out the door without a backward glance to see that you got as far as your door. Without seeing the way your face falls at him leaving. Without seeing the way Chirron shakes his head at the situation. But you don’t call out, don’t try to stop him. You just let him go like there aren’t any other options. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a couple weeks to arrange the transport (and Chirron helping Vernon out by sending credits and outstanding favors to cash in along without you knowing) to Lumen. He stays with a contact he met while working with you that knows someone named San. That’s where the idea of Lumen comes up. It seems like there’s a chance Vernon’s other members are there. And if Vernon has a chance to see them again, he has to take it. Even though he wants to see them all, he really hopes Seungcheol is there. If not for the leader, none of them would have been able to escape.

Vernon gets a last message to Chirron to let him know that he’s leaving in two days. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Vernon hopes that Chirron will share the message with you and maybe you’ll say goodbye. You don’t. Even though Vernon wants to be upset, and he is, he’s still thankful that Chirron helped in the first place. He knows that without that help, he wouldn’t be able to get on a ship to Lumen. 

The journey itself is uneventful. Vernon’s spent enough time on your ship to be used to the travel, but he’s still worried initially that something will go wrong. It’s got him a bit on edge, to say the least. Until he realizes that this isn’t one of your jobs, this is just a regularly scheduled trip to Lumen that the ship was taking anyway. The only difference is one extra passenger. It’s not until they approach the planet’s atmosphere that he starts to get nervous again. The crew agreed that Lumen seems to be a sanctuary planet, and that’s great. It’s just, well Vernon hasn’t really considered what to do when they land. 

The planet is beautiful, like what it seems like Earth looked like before, at least from pictures he’s seen. There’s so much life and color everywhere that immediately puts him at ease. He’s still skeptical, how could he not be? But there’s also a sense of immediate relief that washes over him. WIthout even realizing it, he thinks that this is home. At the dock, he inquires about a place to stay, hesitantly admits that he’s a level 1 automaton, and says he doesn’t have many credits to barter with. What he’s not prepared for is the smiles that form instantly. Someone tells him about a house that he might be interested in and gives him directions. 

It’s not long before he’s approaching the large house, far bigger than he’s expecting it to be. This is definitely too much for him to stay in when he’s not sure how he’s going to afford anything. It’s then that he notices someone working in a garden, tending to plants. They look up and smile the second they see Vernon. He can’t quite hear what they say when they turn to look over their shoulder.

And that’s when Vernon’s entire world shifts. The very one he’d been hoping to see comes out from behind the house and erupts into a smile. They’re both moving towards each other, neither quite believing the sight before their eyes. 

“Vernon?” he asks.

“Seungcheol,” Vernon says with so much affection for his leader. 

“Welcome home,” Seungcheol says and hugs him. 

Home. This can be home. Maybe it’ll all be okay. Maybe this is where Vernon was meant to end up all along and maybe working with you and Chirron had just been a stop along the way. 

i'm sorry for leaving it open like that at the end, but it's kind of what felt the most realistic for them. i hope you enjoyed it and check out all the amazing fics 💕

[azlia-iconoclast]

All that is confirmed will be modified:

the abortion ban that already exist to state level and killed teens on texas because they got denied even in a SA situationa will now be nationwide

ending any chance to integrate minorities and just letting the hate and discrimination run rampant again without institutions to keep watch

allowing states to ban diverse number of Healthcare treatments and medications which go from gender hormones to the morning after pills

tariffs are gonna have backlash and cause countertarrifs ending many of our trade deals and evaluating the dollars

the billionares that backed trump like the ultraconservative Timothy mellon, the heritage foundation with the hyper religious agaenda or elon musk that is obsessed with hating public transport and trans people are going to have free reign to do as they please.

the ending of several institution and more privatization which includes less education subsidies for poor families, help for disabled people, subsidies for Healthcare, the weather system and report, the department of education shrinking and allowing old religious policies, the watch for the compliance of the civil rights act is going to disappear , the department of health is also going to shirk, the watch for compliance for climate change is going to disappear the DEI, EPA, and the ACA will be erased with many more, just to name the ones that are going to affect directly the most

as consequence of the mentioned institutions disappearing hate speech will basically be legal again affecting the culture and the amount of religious propaganda, discrimination while hiring and helping disable people get a job will be legally impossible

completing the genocide in gaza and continuing funding Israel expansion into Lebanon not to mention he's dividing Ukraine in 2 with a neutral zone which will cause a second bigger war because nobody is going to be conformed with that.

the peace attempts that were happening with china over Taiwan and Hong kong are now going to be closed leaving war as only option for the long future

The SCOTUS will now have 5 of 9 Supreme Court LIFETIME seats filled by Trump and the damage will be generational given the justices are young for the lifelong position and all 5 are part of the Christian nationals. Any attempt to undo what trump is going to damage with his policies will be blocked by their majority specially the medical bans and the freedom corporations will now have, so not only our full generation will suffer trump legacy but your kids and their kids

when trump took the confidential documents boxes to mar a lago when he lost last election it made him look to NATO and the 5 eyes intelligence institution (fuck them both hypocrite imperialists) complain for the security risk which means the allies will not want to share intel with the us now that he's back forcing America to have the old interventionist spionage role to get it's own, which will increase world tensions.

whether people voted for trump to punish dems not fulfilling their promises or being part of such mentioned genocides, because they hate the lgbtq and DEI or they really want to go back to the dark ages culturally and socially with christian nationalism ideology, all of them just shot themselves and everyone kids future.

Adieu à jamais Amérique, je croyais que tu changeais mais ceci est ton cœur et ton vrai visage, je pensais vivre ici plus d'un siècle et t'aider à te transformer, mais il est clair que tu choisis la Cruauté. J'ai de toute façon un dernier coup à tirer, si cela se brise au moins je mourrai enfin avant que tu ne commences ton interventionnisme mondial comme dans les années 50 encore.

[lemonavocado]

i have many many thoughts about the portrayal of elizabeth (and henry) in adaptations of frankenstein and they need to be broadcasted immediately. feverish incoherent raving about this subject under the cut. tw for very brief mention of SA

so. elizabeth lavenza. by the time of the wedding, elizabeth is rather obviously portrayed to be just as morose and brooding as victor is, she just isn't as susceptible to episodes of mania and psychosis so it doesn't seem nearly as dramatic compared to victor's trauma. she's been through the gutter herself, being an orphan for starters, then being adopted into a family and having to assume the role of caregiver in the frankenstein family because of the coercion of her dead mother to not only take her place as the maternal figure in the family but also marry her surrogate brother (or literal cousin, depending on which version you read). then her surrogate younger brother william dies, and the within weeks she has to watch her closest heterosexual life partner justine be unjustly hung by a corrupt justice system. and she vocalizes, actively, her pessimism and hopelessness in light of these many tragedies. tldr she's fucked up and rightfully so, and while she's a little less crippled by depression than victor, she still has the distinct appearance of being rather ill, listless, and tired, especially towards the end of the novel. anyways my point is in the novel, the most important thing about elizabeth is not that she's a woman and victor's bride. yes, that's obviously the purpose she was created for, but shelley went out of her way to give elizabeth an extremely definite and unique character. she's gentle and maternal like most woman in early 19th century literature, but she's also introspective, intelligent, and perceptive. she displays agency and self-awareness repeatedly (her guilt over the locket, going to the execution of justine even when alphonse tells her not to, waxing poetic on the failures of the justice system, asking repeatedly and rather pointedly if victor actually wants to go through with the marriage, obvious anxiety and solemnity concerning the wedding) we also have to take into account that elizabeth's personality is being relayed to us BY VICTOR, and he wants to see elizabeth as docile and femininely passive, even if a lot of her actions themselves in the novel actually seem to contradict that. also, i am peppering in that many people can (and have) made a genuine and convincing argument that victor and elizabeth are not in love and were groomed to accept their union by their weirdo parents - that they care for each other, but the text includes important nuances that make it evident that victor doesn't feel anything for elizabeth like that. it is a legitimate interpretation of the book - dare i say it's the correct interpretation of the relationship between victor and elizabeth. but that's another essay for another day and it's not SUPER integral to my rant here today. it just highlights the complexity of elizabeth as a character.

so. for some fucking reason, writers do not understand this when they are adapting the novel, and do not want to apply more than eight seconds of critical thinking and the absolute shallowest 3rd grader levels of reading comprehension to this character, so they simplify her from what she was in the original novel, freshly complex, opinionated, and introspective to boring useless incest lady. victor is never portrayed with the same amount of nuance he deserves in any adaptation (also another essay for another day), because adaptations also have a very surface level reading of him as "guy who was ambitious and played god which immediately cements him as an irredeemable self-aggrandizing asshole and/or a raging insufferable narcissist who's a dick to everyone around him EXCEPT for elizabeth" but at least SOME adaptations are able to kiiinnnddaaaa capture the sympathy meant to be felt for the character in the novel. not so for elizabeth. her character in basically every adaptation can be boiled down to this: "omg victor my brother let me hammer in that you are my brother. im just going to stand here and look clueless and annoyingly naive for the entire time im on screen/stage. im just a little girl and idk what's going on victor but im gonna stay blindly devoted to you and ask numerous but completely useless questions 🥺 let me stare at you with tender worry in my eyes and treat you like a child even though we have absolutely no romantic chemistry and you're an objectifying dick towards me and we have nothing in common and the audience is actively dry heaving as we sensually make out for no other reason than to have characters in this movie sensually make out. im basically a carbon copy of original-novel-henry expect super boring and super useless because im a woman which means the doylist explanation for why im here HAS TO BE ONLY for the main character to fuck me and to hold the attention of the male viewership. now time for me to get SA'd by the creechur for basically no reason" we can observe something approximating this in basically every frankenstein adaptation i've ever seen: kenneth branagh's (my enemy) 1994 film, the 2004 hallmark miniseries, the musical, and the ballet. also in the 1931 film, but that one isn't really trying to be book-accurate so it doesn't really count for this rant.

with this understanding of elizabeth, writers then attempt to artificially generate more romance between these characters, mostly by, yes, replacing a lot of henry's role in the novel with elizabeth, hence why we see so many adaptations (1994, 2004, ballet) make elizabeth nurse victor back to health in ingolstadt instead of henry, which generates... so many problems. one problem with this is that it just sorta ruins henry's original role in the novel in one go. writers recognize that henry is supposed to be victor's character foil, but now they don't have much for him to do so he can demonstrate that role in the story since they gave all of the romantic tension moments to elizabeth. meaning that in adaptations you can tell the writers didn't really know what to do with henry because he's reduced to a comic relief bumbling idiot (1994, ballet, 2004 to an extent) with his only personality traits being "random xd" and "morals good playing god wrong!!!! 😠" (2004, musical, several independent stage adaptations). they keep him as a character foil, but just replace all of his compassion, tenderness, and devotion with elizabeth, while effectively draining henry of all of his original appeal and charm and stamping those traits onto their already stripped-of-all-nuance elizabeth. so now both henry and elizabeth are not only extremely different from their original roles in the novel but extremely, woefully less charming and complex. this especially pisses me off because it's explicitly stated in the book that henry was victor's only friend precisely because he was victor's intellectual equal, so seeing henry reduced to a smiley idiot and/or stupid generic male side character with Morals fills me with a visceral rage. writers will also sometimes make victor and henry meet in college (ballet, 1994) and try to strengthen the bond between victor and elizabeth by making it appear as though she was victor's ONLY childhood friend and companion. other times, victor and henry will be friends pre-ingolstadt (2004, musical) but most of the relationship development will be between elizabeth and victor. those two have all of the tender bonding moments while henry is just kinda inexplicably there sometimes. but i digress. this post is supposed to be about elizabeth. but IF YOU NEED A CHARACTER TO BE A SUNSHINE SOFT OPTIMISTIC LOVER FOR VICTOR IN A FRANKENSTEIN ADAPTATION, HENRY IS ABLE AND WILLING ARE YOU STEPPING ON MY BALLS

clervalstein is true. anyway

elizabeth is somehow more complex and powerful as a female character than the literal adaptations produced almost 200 years later. in adaptations, the most important thing about her is somebody else. the development of all of her character traits (which usually never go beyond standing around and looking helpless) are solely dependant on victor. she feels more like an appendage of the protagonist than an individual with thoughts and experiences separate from victor, and her character is loosely defined and flimsy so the writers can have her conform to her actions in the book whenever it's convenient and then change things up entirely that completely contradict her characterization in the book whenever it's convenient. i have no idea why the fuck this keeps happening with frankenstein adaptations (it's misogyny) and because it isn't looking like guillermo del toro's film (from what ive heard) is going to be super book accurate, i dont foresee too much of a shift in frankenstein adaptations.

look i get it. it's a movie/play/ballet which lasts like 2 hours and you have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. i understand you have to make sacrifices for brevity and these characters are, frankly, a lot less interesting and exciting than victor and creechur. people didn't come to see john hughes levels of charm and complexity in the side characters, they came to watch the creechur do scary shit and for victor to say IT'S ALIVE 😱 and be an evil mad scientist you love to hate. they came for their values of "it's wrong to play god!!!" and "too much ambition bad!!!" to be re-cemented even though that's not even the original point of the novel. which is why imo if you're going to adapt frankenstein in a manner that does justice to the beautiful and sublime subtlety of the original novel, it needs to be either a miniseries or a REALLY LONG film. it's a short book, but it's very eventful, and imo for an adaptation to work you have to let the audience sit with it. which is why you all need to donate to my gofundme so i can produce an honest to god frankenstein adaptation. in fact, im running for president in this year's primaries :3

just a disclaimer: im not an academic or a scholar or anything. i just like the book. i probably have no idea what the fuck im talking about. but im a very very passionate little guy and this has been my rant

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: November 14, 2024

Reworked Character #1: Marco Rossi

POTENTIAL TRIGGER: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to neglect, self-harm, alcoholism, SA, death, and torture.

Real name: Marchrius Dennis Rossi

Alias: Intelligent Soldier

Occupation: Major of the P.F. Squad

Retirement plans: Become a mechatronics engineer, foster a bunch of kittens, and start a company that designs and develops functional computer models, artificial intelligence, and cybersecurity programs for both military and civilian usage

Special skills: Proficiency in lightweight firearms, mechatronics engineering, computer science, intimidation tactics, and drunken-style boxing

Hobbies: Creating artificial intelligence and technological viruses from scratch, calculating complex mathematical equations and running times of computer programs in his head, taking naps at his desk, completing crossword puzzles, and stargazing

Likes: Cat cafes, maintaining his manliness, his quick mental calculation, going on smoke breaks with Tarma, Eri, and Tequila, and subway rides where there are little to no people around him

Dislikes: Large lines in front of restaurants, being wrongfully distracted from work, spending vast quantities of time away from Perifa and Midori, computer crashes paired with slow Internet, and torture

Favourite food: Chinese noodles (preferably its mildly spicy) and barbecued burgers and hotdogs with onions and honey-flavoured carrots

Sexuality: Sex-repulsed, aromantic asexual

Gender: Male

Age: 17 (in 2022), 23 (in 2028), 25 (in 2030), 27 (in 2032), 29 (in 2034), 36 (in 2041), 38 (in 2043), 39 (in 2044), and 42 (in 2047)

Blood type: A-

Weight: 162 lbs. (73.48 cm)

Design: He's a 5' 7" (170.18 cm) Italian-American ectomorph with an average musculature, broad shoulders, ivory skin, a cleft chin, and dull turquoise eyes. Marco sports wavy strawberry blonde hair, characterised by a large forelock that falls to the tip of his nose on the right side. On the left, two short, thick strands with subtle waves curve gracefully above his eyebrow. His features are further accentuated by well-groomed sideburns and a neatly trimmed chinstrap beard.

He bears occasional dark circles under his eyes and a distinctive glass left eye in a lighter turquoise hue. He has accumulated several battle scars: a few stab wounds on his right shoulder; vertical cuts on his chest; a deep slice mark extending from the left side of his nose bridge to the back of his trapezius muscle; multiple lacerations and severe burns on his back; a large patch of scar tissue on his right lumbar region; and bullet wounds on both calves and one on his left thigh. To cope with his emotional pain, he has a history of self-harm, which has resulted in the horizontal scars visible on his right forearm, hips, and inner thighs.

He's well-known for his cutting-edge, cybernetic left arm crafted from sleek, high-strength metallic alloys and advanced, artificially intelligent flexi-circuits, allowing for enhanced strength, agility, dexterity, and precision. It also has micro-sensors and neural interfaces seamlessly integrating with Marco’s nervous system for intuitive control. It possesses a high-strength, serrated blade made of tungsten, capable of extending up to 12 inches (30.48 cm) from the forearm. It can temporarily deploy an energy shield that surrounds him, providing protection from incoming attacks. This shield is powered by advanced capacitors and optimised for maximum efficiency using AI technology.

Marco's military gear consists of a white headband, a metal dog tag necklace with his name, and a platinum grey sleeveless shirt. He wears a crimson vest with four pockets and an embroidered logo of the P.F. Squad on the back, alongside khaki-green army cargo pants tucked into his olive green paratrooper boots. He also wears a leather belt with a snap-on silver buckle, mahogany gloves, a sheath for his combat knife, and a gun holster for his trusty handgun. The pockets of Marco's army cargo pants carry two boxes of cigars, while his vest contains a gilded lighter he found in Gerhardt City, a black case for his garnet-hued reading glasses, and an old photograph of pre-teen him, his father, and his childhood cat on a leash at a park during autumn.

Over his shirt, he wears a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. His right forearm is wrapped in worn gauze, and he wears two black bandoliers that form an X-shape, holding bullets for his handgun. Marco carries a khaki-green load-bearing backpack containing camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a Gatling shot, and a thunder shot. He's always carrying around a red-orange laptop adorned with a bronze circle on the lid, housing a black six-pointed star at its centre. This custom laptop serves as his mobile command centre, where he develops malware to breach enemy cybersecurity, tackles various classified technological assignments for the military, and works on personal software projects.

He wears his father's circular, gilded watch on his right wrist, using it to check the time as a reminder of his father's enduring presence and an opportunity to seek guidance from the past. The timepiece features an ivory dial with burgundy hands and black Roman numerals from I to XII, interspersed with four thin etchings. Additional details include a secondary display bar showing the time and AM/PM indicator, while a leather strap is secured with a matching gold buckle.

Character summary: He's a charismatic and cautious leader who takes immense pride in his high intellect, computer expertise, and masculinity. He's a self-reliant introvert who prefers to accept help and emotional support from others when absolutely necessary. His stoic demeanour is a constant, making it challenging for him to show humour or vulnerability. Due to being a workaholic, he has developed a harmful habit of neglecting his own basic needs, including eating when necessary. He mainly struggles with loneliness because he finds it difficult to form meaningful connections due to his exceptionally high intellect, which can make it challenging for others who may not be able to keep up with his level of understanding. He also struggles with major depressive disorder, trust issues, a fear of abandonment, and unresolved trauma stemming from past experiences. While Marco tends to internalise his emotions, he has learned to open up to trusted individuals when his burdens become too overwhelming to bear alone.

Despite his gentle and taciturn nature, he's capable of being ruthless and will fly into a deep rage when General Morden's name is mentioned near him. When interrogating others, he employs a menacing tone, his aloof demeanour making those on the receiving end feel uneasy and intimidated. He doesn't hesitate to wield threats of violence or exploit vulnerabilities, and with Trevor by his side, his intimidation factor is amplified. He's a socially awkward loner who doesn't tolerate distractions and has a strong fear of losing his current friends.

When experiencing great distress in relation to past trauma, he's prone to having a full-blown mental breakdown and indulging in suicidal ideation. Marco tends to get stressed easily, which has led to him developing a chain-smoking habit. He privately grapples with self-harm and binge drinking, often consuming multiple beers at once, while concealing his struggles with alcoholism and suicidal thoughts from those around him. He attempts to conceal his struggles with alcoholism by either excessively partying or withdrawing socially, and privately harms himself due to his reluctance to burden others or cause unnecessary concern. Additionally, he struggles with denial, finding it difficult to accept the loss of his father and former war comrades, and resisting the idea that he needs professional mental health support.

He has a dry sense of humour that he rarely showcases, and when he does, his witty remarks often blend English and Italian. Having learned some Japanese from Tarma and Eri, he occasionally sprinkles Japanese phrases into his jokes. He deeply cares about his friends and will stop at nothing to protect them, even if it means putting his own life at risk. He finds great comfort in the presence of his best friend, Tarma, thanks to his breezy and optimistic attitude. Although he doesn't always show it, he genuinely enjoys Tarma's jokes and appreciates listening to them, even if they occasionally test his patience. Additionally, he cherishes his calico shorthair cat, Perifa, a heartwarming birthday gift he received from Fio prior to the Survival Island Occupation.

He’s in a polyamorous queerplatonic relationship with Fio and Tarma, a bond that satisfies his deep-seated longing for emotional intimacy. He’s close friends with Trevor, regularly mentoring him in computer skills like reading binary code and enjoying social time together, but their occasional marijuana use has raised concerns due to Marco's pre-existing unhealthy smoking habits. He holds Tequila in high esteem, recognizing his pivotal contributions to the success of the Regular Army and S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. special forces unit. He deeply values his wisdom, open-mindedness, fatherly demeanour, and exceptional covert agent skills. He dislikes accompanying Nadia on shopping trips because her constant meddling and overly inquisitive nature frustrate him.

Having never experienced raising children, he had always doubted his ability to provide love and be a good parental figure, consumed as he was by his own interests and mental health issues. But everything changed on Christmas, in the aftermath of the Unforeseen Invader Conquest, when he adopted an abandoned baby girl with striking features: pinkish-orange hair streaked with pale blonde and bright teal eyes flecked with dark brown. With the guidance and support of his friends, he discovered valuable parenting skills and named his new daughter Midori. He transformed into a loving, supportive, and overprotective father, dedicated to ensuring her happiness and safety. He made it a point to offer wise advice, hoping to spare her from his own past mistakes.

He found immense joy in watching Midori form close bonds with his friends, affectionately regarding them as uncles, aunts, and grandparents. Her friendship with Pocke, Walter's adoptive son and a Martian infant, brought him equal delight. He was particularly grateful for the ways his friends nurtured Midori's passions: Tarma and Alisa encouraged her interest in engineering, while Walter and Trevor fostered her love of music. He can't imagine a world without his adoptive daughter, who has brought him a new sense of purpose and motivated him to overcome his personal hardships.

He often mistakes Sophia Greenville for his mother due to their similar appearance, and he's always embarrassed when he accidentally calls her "mom”. Nevertheless, he's deeply grateful for the maternal affection she shows him, treating him like a son and unknowingly becoming the kind of mother he wishes he had. He finds comfort in spending quality time with his cat, affectionately referred to as his "dramatic little princess”. He enjoys engaging in playtime, giving gentle pets, and even using soothing baby talk to calm his feline companion. He's easily offended by people who rudely insult cats, going as far as to comfort the insulted feline and silently glaring at the person who uttered such words.

Whenever he's had too much to drink, he starts to act rowdy, easy-going, overly affectionate, and clingy. When sexual activity is mentioned, he reacts with extreme discomfort as he finds it to be disgusting. He’ll either become nauseous or start gagging, displaying expressions of strong distaste towards the person discussing the topic. If he unexpectedly encounters someone engaging in sexual activity, he often experiences a panic attack, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. In such situations, he usually tries to seek comfort and support from a trusted individual to talk to and receive a reassuring hug. This experience may also trigger unpleasant thoughts related to sexual matters, leading him to fear that he's somehow perverted and disgusting. He'll only lose his temper with others if they say something extremely rude to him or his friends, intend to hurt his loved ones or tell him blatant lies. Although he tends to have a pessimistic outlook on life, he sometimes manages to see the brighter side of things. 

He has a sleepwalking habit, often accompanied by vivid dreams of fighting or killing someone, which greatly annoys and frightens Tarma, who’s frequently the target of these nocturnal episodes. He resents being hailed as a war hero due to his intense aversion to fame and his conviction that conflict should prompt sombre reflection, not glorification. He dislikes flirtatious advances and has low tolerance for complaining, bullying or excessive talking, which can trigger irritability and extreme defensiveness. He feels uneasy with romantic inquiries and is secretly intimidated by Gimlet, whose rape threats, relentless verbal aggression, and frequent heated confrontations leave him on edge. He has a commanding presence that demands respect, and his consistently serious demeanour can make him seem intimidating and unapproachable to others.

He's incredibly introspective and prone to questioning the intentions of his friends and his own worthiness of having meaningful friendships. He defines his masculinity by embodying traits like physical strength, courage, independence, leadership, and assertiveness. However, he makes a conscious effort to avoid toxic masculinity by ensuring his behaviour doesn't harm others' feelings or self-worth. Despite this balanced approach, he admits to having some vanity regarding specific issues he considers unbefitting of his ideal masculinity, such as sagging pants and carrying toys, as he sees these as detrimental to personal dignity. Whenever he encounters a pair of glowing red eyes, he's either deeply unsettled or irresistibly drawn to them, captivated by their aura of curiosity and command. This hesitant fascination occasionally leads him to wander aimlessly until it directs him to a destination of its choosing.

He's a consequentialist who believes that all life forms are more capable of destruction, ultimately prevailing the act of creation. He also believes that all conflicts are gradually moving towards the equitable unification and collective strength of humanity. In his perspective, it'll pave the way for a new era free from violence, hate, and political corruption.

Backstory: Marchrius Dennis Rossi was born on April 13, 2005 in Twin Falls, Idaho, United States. Marco's mother, Katalina, was a researcher for a secret government project, and his father, Salvatore Rossi, was stuck in a dead-end office job. His parents had a distant relationship and had Marco, hoping that a child would bring them closer together and fix their broken marriage, but they often ignored each other and argued. Katalina had never wanted Marco, viewing him as an unplanned consequence and a responsibility that hindered her career. His father provided unwavering support and care, while his mother was neglectful and emotionally absent, hiding her true behaviour behind closed doors. But despite this, Marco shocked his parents by exhibiting a fast-growing intelligence at a very young age.

From the moment he opened his eyes, he muttered his first word, "daddy". He learned how to walk at 3 months old and showed advanced motor skills by 5 and a half months. He skipped object permanence altogether and completed his first crossword puzzle at just 1 year old, astonishingly understanding political terms. By the age of 2, he had memorised all 50 U.S. states and read two books in their entirety, demonstrating a profound understanding of their documented subjects: moral philosophy and psychoanalysis. By 4, he was answering calculus-level questions and describing his feelings about endangered animals in zoos with sophisticated vocabulary.

From the age of 2, he would occasionally see a pair of glowing red eyes in darkened corners or places drenched in darkness. He described them as always watching him and swore that they belonged to a living, breathing creature that seamlessly blended into the darkness. When he turned 5, he created an imaginary friend as an excuse to enjoy his alone time and avoid befriending the children who frequented the local park. This imaginary friend was named "Jubby", and Marco often drew him, depicting him as an anthropomorphic snow leopard with golden eagle wings, Komodo dragon legs, and a face covered in a ball of black scribbles.

Before he turned 6, his neglectful mother, Katalina, grew fed up with how "weird" he was. She was also annoyed by his persistent fear of a glowing pair of red eyes that watched him occasionally and his uninterested attitude towards forming connections. While Salvatore was away from home, Katalina took matters into her own hands and packed her belongings. Before leaving, she noticed Marco standing before the basement door, which was wide open. She investigated and saw the same glowing pair of red eyes, which terrified her.

Believing that Marco was attracting an evil spirit, she pushed him down the basement stairs and locked the door, hoping to contain the perceived threat. Abandoning Marco, she left the house, leaving him absolutely terrified. Marco attempted to cope with the trauma by conjuring up Jubby, but he claimed that his imaginary friend never came to his aid. This painful realisation marked the day he began to harbour resentment towards his mother, feeling unappreciated, unloved, and viewed as a burdensome presence in her life. When Salvatore returned home and discovered that Marco was trapped in the basement by Katalina, he was infuriated. His father attempted to track down Katalina, but it was too late. This traumatic event instilled in him a lasting fear of heading down into dark basements alone.

During his time in grade 1, Marco struggled to make friends and often looked sad when he saw other children with their mothers, a concern his father noticed. To cheer him up, his father brought home a Turkish Angora with a black, orange, and white fur coat, which sparked Marco's love for felines. As a result of his childhood cat's fondness for eating bugs, he affectionately named her Grubley. At the age of five, his father introduced him to the world of computing, igniting a passion for computer science that would last a lifetime. Salvatore was always supportive of Marco and his passions, encouraging him to excel in school, chase his dreams, and make the most of the opportunities life has to offer.

Marco knew he had an uncle, but his father forbade him from seeing him. Salvatore had warned him that his uncle was untrustworthy due to his con artist lifestyle and struggled with alcoholism. However, he was permitted to visit his aunt and grandparents, who were incredibly kind. They encouraged him to appreciate nature and the simple things in life, rather than spending all his time on the computer. He has fond memories of his grandfather teaching him how to barbecue. His grandmother, an immigrant from Italy, taught him some Italian and often shared photographs she had taken in her home country before moving to the United States.

His father unknowingly sparked his interest in the Tuatha Dé Danann, an ancient race of demigods that existed before all life, and two antediluvian places, Atlantis and Ultima Thule. He would silently observe his father spend a short amount of time researching these fascinating topics when not working. Marco would eventually discover that he has a slight hint of Tuatha Dé Danann DNA, leading him to wonder if others might also have ancestral ties tracing back to the Hadean Eon.

He was bullied by many students for being perceived as "friendless" and for having an abnormally high intelligence, leaving him feeling isolated. A few students attempted to befriend him, but he rebuffed their efforts, fearing they would eventually abandon him. He also struggled to connect with them on an intellectual level, feeling like an outsider. During high school, he was involved in a few physical altercations, but he typically managed to defuse the situations with his words or, if necessary, defend himself relentlessly. In his spare time, he mastered the unconventional art of drunken-style boxing, giving him an edge in self-defence. Despite his school troubles, he excelled in all his classes and achieved outstanding grades in mathematics and computer science courses.

Before graduating from a state technical high school, Salvatore died due to health complications caused by Huntington's disease. Shortly after, Marco's beloved cat, Grubley, peacefully passed away in her sleep. Marco was devastated by these losses, compounded by the shocking revelation that his father had been secretly battling Huntington's disease without ever sharing his struggle with him. The last gift his father gave him was a red-orange laptop, which was intended to be a graduation present. Rather than letting the tragedy consume him, he transformed his grief into a driving force, cultivating resilience and independence. To move forward, he made the difficult decision to distance himself from his remaining family, seeking to leave the past behind and forge a new path.

He began developing artificial intelligence to engage in online debates and sophisticated computer software, including anti-viruses and error-checking tools, as a means to earn a living and hone his programming skills. He went so far as to meticulously rebuild and upgrade the desktop computer in his father's old office at home, enhancing both its design and performance. Marco decided to attend officer's school at the Academy of Special Technologies and subsequently joined the prestigious Peregrine Falcons Squad shortly after graduation.

Unlike many of his peers, he quickly distinguished himself through his exceptional leadership skills and computer expertise, earning him a spot as 1st Lieutenant of the P.F. Squad. This was also when he met Tarma, forming a fast friendship after discussing their interests, reminiscing on their childhoods, and having a couple of beers. Tarma was his first real friend, whom he holds dear, despite viewing him as a “maniacal gearhead”. Through his friendship with Tarma, he discovered the value of having friends and stepped out of his comfort zone to befriend the other members of the P.F. Squad and Regular Army. He would also gradually develop a queerplatonic relationship with Tarma as he deeply cherished their friendship and came to realise that it filled a void of emotional intimacy left by his father's passing.

During his time in the P.F. Squad, Marco created a computer virus for fun, which inadvertently spread to the Regular Army's mainframe server. The virus destroyed several security systems, compromised the lowest echelons of the Regular Army, and nearly triggered the launch of a nuclear missile. Fortunately, a military scout named Trevor, whom Marco would meet years later during his recruitment into the P.F. Squad, managed to stop it. Marco refuses to discuss this potentially disastrous incident, even after a few too many beers.

When the Amadeus Syndicate served as the scientific and medical branch of the Regular Army, Marco met Doctor Amadeus, the organisation's founder and Nadia's clone mother. They had a cordial relationship, and Doctor Amadeus was particularly impressed by Marco's exceptional computer skills. She wanted to utilise his talents for a bioengineering experiment, aiming to create super soldiers using abandoned Martian and Invader technology.

During a battle against a terrorist attack, Marco suffered severe injuries and was taken to one of the original Amadeus Syndicate's medical facilities to recover. Doctor Amadeus seized this opportunity to force herself upon him to collect semen and DNA samples, leaving him deeply traumatised. The experience was so distressing that Marco tried to suppress the memory, inadvertently forgetting much of the history and purpose of the Amadeus Syndicate in the process. He also swore his revenge to kill Doctor Amadeus one day for what she did to him. As a result of this event, he began to act strangely anxious and slightly aggressive when in a hospital or near Nadia for prolonged periods of time.

During the first coup led by General Morden, he scraped together the remnants of the Regular Army government forces to reassemble the P.F. Squad. He became the leader of the governmental resistance against General Morden but at a great cost. As he, his comrades, and his friends were approaching the last known base of the Rebel Army, disaster struck. General Morden and his soldiers ambushed them, seizing the opportunity to decimate the remnants of the P.F. Squad, leaving Marco with mental and physical scars that would haunt him forever. 

Marco endured unimaginable suffering at the hands of General Morden, Allen O'Neil, and the Rebel soldiers, who brutally tortured him, gouged out his left eye, and severed his left arm. After experiencing a strange tingling sensation of familiarity, General Morden realised that Marco possessed Tuatha Dé Danann heritage. Intrigued, he discreetly collected DNA samples from Marco, which would later be utilised by the Amadeus Syndicate for experimentation in bioengineering and advanced military technology. The cruelty continued as Morden forced Marco to witness the slaughter and torture of his comrades and friends. Devastated by the losses and horrors he experienced, Marco teetered on the brink of giving up. He was even convinced that his best friend, Tarma, had perished, plunging him into a deep depression. 

However, Tarma managed to escape the Rebel Army's clutches and staged a daring rescue, reuniting with Marco. With Tarma's emotional support and his own newfound rage, Marco found the strength to keep fighting. Before confronting General Morden, Tarma constructed his prosthetic left arm using technological debris and cutting-edge medical technology available to the Regular Army. However, it took him a couple of weeks to adapt to his new limb. Together, they became legendary heroes, ultimately defeating Morden and restoring world peace. Marco's bravery earned him the rank of Major, but he soon grew to resent his war hero status as he realised that the media often glorifies conflict.

Marco continued to lead the P.F. Squad together with Tarma, who is the true linchpin of the elite task force of the Regular Army. Marco joined forces with Tarma, Fio, and Eri for a second mission to thwart General Morden's second coup. Although the mission technically failed, as they captured a Martian troop from the Pipovulaj Army disguised as General Morden, the Regular Army's higher-ups deemed it a success nonetheless. This moment got on Marco's nerves as he deeply desired to see General Morden brought to justice and face the full consequences of his actions.

Following this success, Marco attempted to resign, but his higher-ups quickly denied his request. They insisted on his participation in a mission to eliminate the remaining remnants of the Rebel Army and other operations addressing threats to global peace such as the Pipovulaj Army.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from EcoWatch:

Current climate policies are putting the world at a high risk of critical Earth system components reaching tipping points, even if global temperatures return to less than 1.5 degrees Celsius above the pre-industrial average following a period of overshoot.

However, a new study has found that, if global heating is quickly reversed, these risks could be minimized.

The human-caused climate crisis has the potential to cause a destabilization of large-scale elements of Earth systems like ocean circulation patterns, ice sheets and components of the global biosphere. In the study, the researchers examined the risks that future emissions scenarios and current mitigation levels posed to four interconnected tipping elements, a press release from the International Institute for Applied Systems Analysis (IIASA) said.

The research team determined the risks of tipping for destabilizing a minimum of one of four central climate elements: the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, the Greenland Ice Sheet, the Amazon Rainforest and the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation (AMOC) — the Atlantic Ocean’s main ocean current system. All four of these contribute to the regulation of the stability of the planet’s climate. Sudden changes to these biophysical systems can be triggered by global heating, leading to irreversible outcomes.

The report’s analysis explains how important it is to stick to the climate targets laid out in the Paris Agreement, while emphasizing that our current choices will impact the planet for centuries or even millennia.

“Our results show that to effectively limit tipping risks over the coming centuries and beyond, we must achieve and maintain net-zero greenhouse gas emissions. Following current policies this century would commit us to a high tipping risk of 45% by 2300, even if temperatures are brought back to below 1.5°C after a period of overshoot,” said Tessa Möller, co-lead author of the study and a researcher with the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research (PIK)’s Integrated Climate Impacts Research Group, in the press release.

The researchers discovered that tipping risks become substantial by 2300 for several of the future emissions scenarios they assessed. If the average global temperature does not return to less than 1.5 degrees Celsius by 2100 — even if net-zero greenhouse gas emissions are reached — there will be a tipping risk of as much as 24 percent by 2300. This means that in roughly one-quarter of the scenarios that do not return to less than 1.5 degrees Celsius by the end of the century, a minimum of one of the tipping elements they considered will have tipped.

“We see an increase in tipping risk with every tenth of a degree of overshoot above 1.5°C. If we were to also surpass 2°C of global warming, tipping risks would escalate even more rapidly. This is very concerning as scenarios that follow currently implemented climate policies are estimated to result in about 2.6°C global warming by the end of this century,” said co-lead author Annika Ernest Högner, also with PIK, in the press release.

“Only a swift warming reversal after overshoot can effectively limit tipping risks. This requires achieving at least net-zero greenhouse gases. Our study underscores that this global mitigation objective, enshrined in Article 4 of the Paris Agreement, is vital for planetary stability,” said Carl Schleussner, one of the authors of the study and a leader with the IIASA Integrated Climate Impacts Research Group, in the press release.

[kingyo-konbini]

MACCHIATO [KILLER X READER]

[SUMMARY] killer drops by on one of his regular visits to the cafe, though this time he comes with a question. [PRONOUNS] gender neutral [GENRE] modern + coffee shop au [POV] second person [WORD COUNT] 1129 [CONTENT] fluff | light flirting (?) [A/N] belongs to this one shot collection

“Can I get a large macchiato with whipped cream?”

The somewhat odd order caused you to look up from your screen, a smile flashing to your lips upon spotting the man before you. “Morning, Killer! Hot or iced?”

“Hot, please. With a straw.”

You hummed and tapped on the screen. “Anything else?”

“I’m here to pick up an order, too.”

You nodded and glanced down at the notepad that sat off to the side, the list of orders needing to be picked up and their recipients’ names written in Sanji’s elegant handwriting.

Eyes narrowing you leaned down to get a better look, a slight frown tugging at your features. “I don’t see your name on here, let me go ask Sa-”

“No need, [Name]-chan!” Sanji’s boisterous voice interrupted you, drawing your attention from the paper. He had pushed his way into the coffee bar from the back, a large, pristine white box in his arms and cigarette in his mouth. “I forgot to write it down, that’s all.”

You let out a quiet sigh in relief, turning back to smile at Killer. “The regular?”

“Same as always.” He nodded. Although you couldn’t see his mouth due to the blue and white striped medical-style mask covering the lower half of his face –nor his eyes, thanks to his incredibly soft-looking and bushy blond bangs– you knew he was returning your smile. “And in return…” He swung the military-esque backpack from his back and dug around in it, eventually pulling out three bags of different kinds of pasta.

Sanji excitedly took them from him, looking at the names of the pasta before nodding with a pleased hum. “Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Likewise.” Killer nodded, and Sanji hurriedly made his way back to the kitchen, probably to get started on some sort of spontaneous pasta dish you knew would be absolutely delicious.

You finalized the order and prepared it for payment, flipping the screen around for him to see the total. “Cash or card?”

“Cash.” He shouldered his bag and pulled his wallet from one of the back pockets of his jeans, leafing through it for a moment and then pulling out a wad of bills. He glanced at the screen and then stopped, hand with the money freezing over the counter. “Ah, [Name], I think you put the order in wrong. It’s showing up as less than usual.”

You tried your best to hide the playful smile that begged to be seen, and focused on writing his order on a cup. “Oh, no, I just applied the friends and family discount. No worries.”

You could sense him frown. “There’s no need for that.”

Despite your attempts, you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting in amusement. “I know, but I want to. You’re a friend, aren’t you?” You looked up from beneath your lashes and smiled, sweet and demure.

It was obvious to everyone except Killer that you’d developed some sort of feelings for the guy. Despite only working at the cafe for a little over a month, you had easily integrated yourself into the group and had gotten to know all of the regulars (and semi-irregulars, too) and began building what you would call friendships with most of them. Killer, in particular, had struck your interests, the pasta shop owner arriving every Monday and Wednesday at nine forty-five in the morning without fail to pick up a drink and sometimes his order of cannoli for the store. He and Sanji had created some sort of barter-and-trade system, with Killer supplying the fellow blond with gourmet pasta noodles in exchange for the pastries.

You’d asked Robin to make sure you were scheduled for morning shifts on Mondays and Wednesdays after figuring out the schedule, much to the teasing of your coworkers and Sanji’s heartbreak.

“Hm, I suppose so.” There was a hint of hesitancy in his voice, but you simply continued to smile and took his payment, completing the transaction and handing him back his change. He cleared his throat and shoved the bills into the tip jar. “Is it just you today?”

You chuckled and shook your head, making your way over to the espresso machine, Killer following from his side of the counter. “No, it’s just been slow today so Usopp took his lunch early. He’s in the back for another, hm, ten minutes or so.” Your eyes flickered to the front door and then throughout the cafe, pleased at the small number of customers happily enjoying their drinks and pastries at the small tables. 

“Have you taken your lunch yet?” He asked as you poured the milk into the frothing pitcher.

You shook your head and began prepping the espresso. “Not yet. I was going to take it after Usopp got back.”

“Would you…” He cleared his throat and you paused, lifting a brow as your hand hovered over the machine. “Would it be alright if I joined you for your lunch?”

Well, that you weren’t expecting.

It took a minute for his words to register, but when they did your expression shifted to the brightest and biggest smile you’ve ever conjured. “I’d love that.”

Again, despite being unable to see his expression, you knew he was smiling.

You pressed the button to pull the shot and began steaming the milk, feeling Killer’s eyes on you the whole time. Your heart fluttered rapidly in your chest, heat rushing up your neck to color your cheeks and the tips of your ears. You knew you must look like a flustered mess, but that could be considered part of your charm, right?

You topped off the drink with the requested whipped cream and popped on the lid, grabbing a straw and sliding both over to the masked man who easily managed to hold both the box of cannoli and the drink.

“Thanks, [Name].”

“Any time.” You beamed.

“I’ll, uh, wait for you at one of the tables.” He grunted, awkwardly nodding to one of the empty spots.

“Okay, I’ll head over as soon as Usopp comes back.” You rocked back on your heels, suddenly shy. “Can I get you anything to munch on, in the meantime?”

“No, that’s alright.” He shook his head. “I’m more than happy to wait.”

Another wave of heat rushed up your neck. “O- okay. Well, I’ll be over in a bit, then.”

Killer said nothing else and simply nodded, steadily making his way over to the table you knew was pushed into the farthest back corner, almost completely hidden from view from the bar.

Unable to contain your giddy smile, you went about cleaning off the steam wand and rinsing out the pitcher and shot glass used to collect the espresso, attempting to keep yourself busy until Usopp got back.

Ten minutes couldn’t go by fast enough.

[songsandscreens]

Scenes from Metroid: Fusion (2002) recreated in Metroid: Dread (2021)

I'd been assigned to watch over Biologic's research team, so I once again found myself on the surface of SR388. It was there that I was attacked by a life-form I had never encountered before. It was only later that I learned the identity of my attacker: the parasitic organism we now know as X. Unaware of my condition, I was returning to the station when disaster struck.

Once the X had infested my central nervous system, I lost consciousness and my ship drifted into an asteroid belt. The ship's emergency systems automatically ejected the escape pod before impact. Biologic's vessel recovered it and transported me to Galactic Federation HQ. However, during the journey, the X multiplied within me, corrupting large areas of my Power Suit.

It then came to light that the organic components of my Power Suit had become so integrated with my system that it could not be removed while I was unconscious. Large portions of my suit had to be surgically removed, dramatically altering my physical appearance. However, the X in my central nervous system were too embedded to be removed safely. I was given a minimal chance of survival.

Then, someone found a cure.

They proposed using a Metroid cell to make an anti-X vaccine. It seems that the Federation had managed to preserve a cell culture from the last infant Metroid SR388. The serum was prepared and injected without delay.

The X parasites were immediately and completely destroyed.

As for me, one life ended... yet I survived, reborn as something different.

Pondering this fact, I realize... I owe the Metroid hatchling my life twice over.

____________________

Some unknown agent is at work. Something very powerful... certainly not human. I'll report when I know more.

...

I have learned the identity of our mystery saboteur... Samus, it's an X mimicking you.

I have named it the SA-X. I believe the SA-X came from the capsule containing your infected suit parts. It used a Power Bomb to escape the Quarrantine Bay. That explosion breached the capsules containing all the X that started this disaster. But the SA-X is definitely our biggest worry right now.

The SA-X is mimicking you at full power. You can't face it. If you see the SA-X, just run. Don't think about fighting... You are still very vulnerable to cold, an unexpected side-effect of the Metroid vaccine. Like Metroids, you can be frozen by an Ice Beam. Of course, the SA-X is armed with the Ice Beam.

Stay away. If you see it, just run.

[lonestarflight]

Apollo Program: Phase A or Apollo A

NASA ID: M-MS-G-102-61 Date: December 4, 1961

"Apollo A was a lighter-weight July 1961 version of the Apollo spacecraft.

Status: Study 1961.

NASA ID: 63-APOLLO-15

It was specifically designed for long-duration operations in space; to conduct re-entry tests at near-parabolic speeds; and then for manned circumlunar missions.

SDASM Archives: Apollo Doc003, Apollo Doc036

At the time of the Apollo bidder's conference in August 1961 an evolutionary approach to the Apollo program was expected. After completion of the Mercury project both the Apollo spacecraft and Saturn launch would gradually fly multi-man crews on a series of ever-more ambitious scientific and technological missions in earth-moon space. This program would begin with manned earth satellite flights of extended lifetime, proceed to lunar circumnavigation, to lunar satellite flights, and ultimately to the lunar landing. Although the Apollo A designation was applied only to the first unmanned Apollo tests at this time, we would use the term here to designate the Apollo design and program plan as envisioned by NASA prior to the Apollo bidder's conference in the summer of 1961.

SDASM Archives: Apollo Doc013, Apollo Doc006

The return to earth and the recovery of the manned spacecraft were important parts of these missions. The development of the Apollo spacecraft was to proceed in several phases. Each phase, to the extent possible, would serve as qualification for the subsequent phase. The objectives of Apollo Phase A was:

Qualification of systems and features for the lunar missions within the constraints or the environment of earth satellite orbits of up to 500 km altitude by manned flights.

Qualification of the re-entry heat protection for the lunar missions in unmanned re-entry tests from super-circular and near-parabolic velocities.

Study of physiological and psychological reactions and capabilities of a multiman crew in the space environment during extended periods of time (at least two weeks). In the adapter between the Saturn second stage and the Apollo spacecraft, as an integral part, was a section to be used as an orbiting laboratory. Preliminary designs indicated this laboratory would be a cylindrical section about 3.9 m in diameter and 2.4 m in height. The laboratory would provide the environment and facilities to conduct scientific experiments related to manned operation of spacecraft. Experiments that might be conducted from an Earth-orbiting laboratory included: astronomical observations; monitoring the Sun's activity; testing man's ability to work outside the vehicle; zero-g testing; and micrometeoroid impact study.

Development of flight and ground operational techniques and equipment for the support of space flights of extended periods

Conduct of experimental investigations as needed to acquire information for the subsequent lunar missions.

The two-stage Saturn C-I launch vehicle system would be utilized to carry the Apollo A spacecraft into the low earth-satellite orbits and to accelerate the capsule only to re-entry trajectories during the Apollo A phase.

The mass breakdown of the Apollo A earth-orbit version was nearly 1/3 less than that of the later Apollo capsule final design:

Command Module: 3600 Kg

Equipment-Propulsion Module (less Main Motors): 1600 kg

Main Motors: 1300 kg

Space Laboratory: 1400 kg

Launch Escape Propulsion: 1700 kg (separated after first stage burn-out)

Total Launch Weight: 9500 kg

Total Weight in Low Earth Orbit: 7800 kg

As of the summer of 1961 it was planned that Apollo A boilerplate flights in the earth-orbit configuration would take place in October/December 1963 using Saturn C-1's SA-7 and SA-8. SA-9 and SA-10 would launch 3400 kg capsule-only payloads in February-April 1964 to near parabolic velocities in tests of the capsule's hypersonic aerodynamics and heat shield. These prototype capsules would be equipped with parachutes and be recovered.

NASA ID: M-MS-G 34-3-61 Date: May 17, 1961

These proving tests would be followed by Apollo A manned earth orbit space laboratory missions in the 1965-1967 period. Manned circumlunar flights would occur at the same time. The booster for such missions was originally intended to be the Saturn C-2. This was changed to the Saturn C-3 in June 1961 when it became clear the Apollo spacecraft would weigh too much for such missions. The C-3 in turn was cancelled in favor of the C-5, and discussion of circumlunar Apollo disappeared by the end of 1962."

-Information from Astronautix.com: link

NASA ID: link

source

[aqtsusa1]

[sasster]

Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

You guys know Laeche?

How about Razzle?

Did you know they met before Razz met Vineno and Mille?

[Doc]

--

There is always an unspoken culture that is difficult to integrate into as a substitute for any given member of a crew. What parts of the ship are considered off limits, who on the crew is part of what clique, it really is always something. Usually something that is so very high school.

Even then, Laeche has found that this all can be very tolerable. Annoying but workable.

At least those members of the crew have quarters to retire to and voices that can be heard, annoying voices and tight quarters. But at least they have them.

What he could never stand, never stomach for longer than it took to reach his ears, was always finding out the ship he’d be stepping foot on was one of those archaic ones that used a single helmsman as its engines main power supply.

Conscripted to a life of nothing more than a battery with a pulse. A sad and thready pulse.

Before him the lead engineer prattles on about specific requirements of the ship. How hard their helmsman works. How if something can’t be fixed with a tightened bolt, he might need to ping the medics.

Stupid, heartless shit.

If looks could kill he might have needed to page med right now with the glower that sets on his face.

She stops and smiles.

“You’ve never seen a helmsman in person, have you?”

“Somehow? Not a living one.”

No, by the time he gets called to a new crew it is so he can teach them how to operate a helmless system once theirs had become a husk.

Her smile broadens.

“Ours works very hard.”

“You mentioned that.”

“Ready to meet her?”

“Is that possible?” He asks, somehow managing to bite back the venom trying in vain to force its way into his tone.

Swallowing it down coats his throat in a thin sheen of bile.

Oh, if only he were able to spit actual venom.

The implication of his question must have flown over her head because she only tilts her head quizzically.

“Of course it is. You’ll be working very closely with her for the next few perigees.”

 “Mm. Lead the way.”

The walk to the engine engine is uneventful, just a brainwashed yellow blood nattering about how amazing the crew and ship are. It all really goes in one ear and out the other.

Once there, she leads him to what she calls the helm’s “quarters”, quarters that he would sooner call a prison.

But that could just be his biases.

“Here is where the magic happens.” She says with glee, as though she is opening the door to some wonderland. With candy grass and a chocolate river perhaps.

Instead, he is met with the grisly sight of some poor soul wrapped up in thick, sickly, writhing tentacles. Every so often her limbs, nearly entirely encased entombed in the mass, are on the receiving end of a series of shocks that jolt through her entire body.

Her pained shrieks are the worst of it.

“What is her name?” He managed to ask between them and his own winced.

Confusion twists the engineer’s features.

“Does that matter? Who cares?”

“Silly me.”

This is going to be a very long job.

–

Two perigees come and go, and still Laeche has not learned the poor things name.

This unfortunate fact has not stopped him from having his meals with her, she’s his closest friend on the ship. He pushes into her “quarters”, now carefully decorated with small knick knacks to “liven up the place” he once explained to her, with his mushy rehydrated MRE in tow.

The rest of the crew find it odd that he chooses to eat rations in the dungeon with a nameless crew helmsman, but it is a point of morals for him.

“Hey Starlight, I think this gruel is supposed to be a meatloaf maybe?”

There is no response, there never is, but he is comforted by the silence in the room. By now he has found a way to decrease the psionic input required by the ship.

The crew didn’t even notice. Nor did their commanding officer. Worst of all? 

The lead engineer herself had no idea.

How blood boiling that it was gratuitous. The entire time.

“Snagged some apple sauce for you too.”

She moves slightly in her restraints.

“There she is.” He says as he takes his usual perch. “Guess what else I brought.”

The helmsman stops moving.

“Correct!” He beams, his enthusiasm filling the room as he pulls the guitar strapped to his back forward.

When he strums the first chord, her eyes light up with something close enough to life that it helps the engineer sleep at night.

He smiles softly.

“I am going to get you out of here, Starlight. But for now, we have each other’s company.”