#Kia Corp

[uniqueeval]

How Mexico is winning the trade war between the U.S. and China

A freight train carries cargo shipping containers in the El Paso Sector along the US-Mexico border between New Mexico and Chihuahua state on December 9, 2021 in Sunland Park, New Mexico. Patrick T. Fallon | AFP | Getty Images New data shows a surge in trade between China and Mexico at a time of tough tariff talk during the presidential campaign. Customs data shows a significant increase in raw…

[geolyte]

A couple familiar faces! Artfight is starting soon and I figured these two were due for a refresh. My art's changed a LOT in the past few years that have passed since i drew them.

[gremlins-hotel]

From the notes of Capt. Alfred Jones: "Davie was a bus and the 'Flying Fortress' moniker seemed to pass her by, but it was a ship with a brave crew. The trudge of getting back to England from enemy territory is a story for another day. I miss her and sometimes I miss the boys we lost that day."

-✪- -✪- -✪-

B-17F "Dear Davie": *U.S. Army Model B-17F-65-BO Air Corps Serial No. 42-29670 Delivered Cheyenne 31/1/43; Pueblo 18/2/43; Salina 15/2/43; Brookley 19/3/43; Smoky Hill 23/3/43; Dow Field 18/4/43. Assigned to the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group [TS-L] "DEAR DAVIE" 22/4/43; Missing in Action near Hamburg 25/7/43 with Alfred "Comet" Jones, **Co-Pilot: Daryl "Speed" Reed, Navigator: Richard Reed, Bombardier: Charlie Marstaller; Radio Operator: Johnathan Graves, Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner: Clyde "Pepsi" Ray, Ball Turret Gunner: William Ortlieb, Waist Gunner: Leslie Lipsey, Waist Gunner: Paul Rapoport, Tail Gunner: Thomas Pugh (6 Killed in Action); "DEAR DAVIE" lost to flak/anti-aircraft fire, crashing near Uetersen, 15 miles NW of Hamburg, Germany.

-✪- -✪- -✪-

[nerd things & acknowledgements below cut]

Notes on the B-17F... The B-17F was an upgrade of the previous E model, with several notable changes: A one- or two-piece plexiglas nose cone, as opposed to the ten-paneled cone of previous versions. Reinforced landing gear allowed for a greater maximum payload, from 4,200 lb (1,900 kg) of ordnance to 8,000 lb (3,600 kg). Flight and combat range of the F model was improved by 900 mi (1,400 km) with the addition of nine self-sealing rubber fuel cells in the wing root, aka, "Tokyo tanks". The F model was generally characterized by being tail-heavy - which lead to part failure - and woefully undefended from the front; the early F models had no front-facing armament, leaving a 60° blind spot to the direct front of the aircraft - a flaw which was exploited by German pilots, who held air superiority. Later F models would see a list of possible available modifications (factory and field) such as inserting two .50 caliber machine guns into the nose cone to solve the blind spot. Other modifications to later F models were bulged cheek turrets, as opposed to the window-mounted guns of earlier iterations, and the available addition of the iconic "Bendix" chin turret. The chin turret is far more common on the subsequent G "gunship" variant. ("Dear Davie" is an early F model without the nose mount, bulged cheeks, or chin turret.)

*This model production block, serial no., and fate are borrowed from real-life B-17F #42-29670, "Thundermug." "Thundermug" was an aircraft that originally served in the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group alongside my great-grandfather and his usual steed, "The Gremlins Hotel." It was transferred to the 544th BS/384th BG, at which point it went Missing in Action over Hamburg from flak/aa-fire; 8 of its crew became POWs while 2 were KIA. I have had the honor to speak to descendants of both of its crews and help them research "Thundermug"; I wish to voice a mere glimpse of their stories in a unique way.

**All names of Alfred's crew are either cobbled-together family names throughout our history here or entirely fictitious - though some were inspired by real people whom I grew up with stories of. All inspirations were individuals that lived good lives post-war.

[space-blue]

so uh do you think the recombinants have human rights? or are we just going to see the rda doing human experiments cause they are “only” copies of people

Heya anon. Interesting question to get out of the blue.

I don't see why recoms would have human rights. Not only are they not "human" and giving them rights would be a slippery slope to giving the Na'vi rights, they are the explicit commercial creation of a private company.

The genre of the Avatar franchsie can be confusing at times due to the optimistic vibes, pretty setting and time spent on exploration with the natives of Pandora, but the human side is extremely rooted in cyberpunk.

The RDA is a company.

Imagine if we discovered a sentient race of underwater aliens on Europa, and the people interracting with them were from SpaceX, on a SpaceX agenda, and not NASA, ESA or JAXA. Worse, since the RDA is all about mining, imagine they were kitted out and working under an executive of Glencore! Shipped by SpaceX...

IDK if the world of Avatar has more info in novelisations, games or comics reguarding the state of laws in space, but I very much think that if people like Quaritch signed a contract to allow the use of his DNA and recorded memories, and the RDA creates recombinants off their own tech at their own price, for their own security team... Then no court of justice has any say in that.

I doubt the RDA's HR department on Pandora will be reporting anything back to earth if the recoms have complaints... By the way, canonically if your cryopod malfunctions during an interstellar trip with the RDA, you die, because they don't keep enough resources on board to let human live the length of the trip, so good luck having any humane law at your back.

On the other hand, I don't understand what you mean by human experiments.

The RDA is not interested in that, and they don't seem to be needed. From the films, we know they want rocks and oil. That's it. They do mining and hunting. They aren't set on Pandora to do human experiments.

A1 already has the ability to use avatars, and those avatars are created on earth and mature over the course of the flight. So clearly the creation of hybrid bodies has been going on for decades (since Grace has been at this for a long while!) and there's no hint of it being human experimentation.

Again: recombinants aren't human. That's what makes them so fascinating. They are a mostly Na'vi and human chimera, with a memory imprint that forces a personality on them. But they can't live natural lives on earth, don't have any legal identity (Quaritch and his men are DEAD. They died. They were clearly labeled KIA so the RDA could make the recom contract kick in).

Even their qualia, the way they experience consciousness, is not human. Humans aren't that size, that build, with tails and swivelling ears. They may remember being a human, but they aren't anymore.

Which creates enormous room for angst and fantastic reasons to rebel and join the locals. The memories of humanity are used as a leash. IDK if they are even copies of people. Q is clearly missing memories outside of what was recorded for him.

I don't think there will be "experiments" on them. I don't see the point. Q & co. are also not used in that way in the story of A2. They are fearsome but easy to dispatch villains for a setting that doesn't tolerate humans anymore.

I don't think that recoms being "remade" would be an experiment or a torture. I think it would be the cold calculations of a cyberpunk mega-corp.

But don't forget there is no process to speed this along. So either the company already made several copies of each recoms, or they'll need years to make new ones. They're also very expensive, so who knows.

I really enjoy the idea of Q going rogue precisely because he's given a new crew of the same recoms to work with and the inhumanity of it finally breaks him. He'd be bound to realise there's more of him in storage and nothing he can do will be meaningful in that way.

[monkeydoespride]

EMERGENCY NOTICE

This is an emergency notice to all members of the Nevada Digging Corps. In light of new information all National Guard occupied sites are to be considered lost and all contact with National Guard facilities is to be severed. At 3:37pm on the 18th of March radio contact was lost with Mound House soon after the scheduled arrival time for the Nevadan National Guard. After the allotted 3 hour mechanical malfunction wait period had elapsed it was decided that attempts to reestablish contact would be conducted by armed corps members operating out of site Lovelock. This decision was made in light of the recent loss of several keys sites the previous day.

At approximately 9:01pm members of the 23rd, 74th, and 367th Armed Corps were shuttled to a location approximately 1 mile SSE of Mound House. Clear weather allowed for visual contact to be established at 9:12pm. After confirming the establishment of visual contact with command, radio contact was subsequently lost with all three units. This loss of contact is now believed to have been the result of intentional jamming. What follows is a rough timeline assembled from the few snippets of radio chatter that would emerge over the next 15 minutes. 9:15 pm: Upon loss of contact with command all three squads assumed normal autonomous protocol, with the 74th Corps assuming command of the operation. 9:17 pm: It was decided that vocal contact with Mound House was to be established by both the 23rd and 367th. With the 74th acting as a reserve in case of emergency. 9:23-9:27 pm: Several snippets of of gunfire and explosions. 9:30 pm: Radio communications were briefly reinstated with a lone individual later recognized as Lieutenant James Versal of the Nevada National Guard. Only one statement was provided by Lt James before communications were once again terminated. "You cannot find us, but we can." All personnel from the 23rd, 74th, and 367th Armed Corps are currently listed as MIA, with several likely being KIA. Any and all contact with National Guard officials is hereby strictly prohibited and anyone found doing so will be dealt with appropriately. The project must continue. Authors note: I just want to make it known that I was actually already planning on having the group behind this insurrection be a part of the Nevada National Guard. However with @inthefallofasparrow's addition to my first post, I decided to change it from a rouge factions to the guards entirety.

[stargazing-sapphire2]

Daniel Walker

Full Name: Daniel Elijah Walker

Date of Birth: September 1st, 1983. Los Angeles, California

Nationality: American

Occupation: United States Marine Corps

Rank: Sergeant

Age: 28 years old (At time of death)

Status: Deceased / KIA

Family / Relatives:

Andrew Walker - Father (Deceased)

Arabella Addington - Mother (Deceased)

Elias Walker - Older brother (Deceased)

Mina Hutchinson - Wife (Deceased)

Arabella Walker - Daughter (Alive)

David "Hesh" Walker - Nephew (Alive)

Logan Walker - Nephew (Status unknown, MIA)

Elias Walker II - Grandnephew (Alive)

Helena Walker - Grandniece (Alive)

Appearance:

*Hair color: Brown

*Eye color: Green

*Height: 5'11 / 180 cm

*Scars/Beauty marks/blemishes: N/A

*Faceclaim: Glen Powell

Personality:

On the surface, Daniel comes off as your "typical" Marine: Loud, stern, a hard ass, and uses crude humor as well as being slightly unhinged to a degree. But through all of that, he is caring, kind man who would move the world for his friends and family.

Having lived a difficult life at a young age, Daniel holds somewhat of a cynical view of the world. "Can the optimism; shits only going to get worse so do yourself a favor" was typically his saying to recruits. However, this attitude lessened after he married and became a father; of which something he would not have for long or live long enough to let it change him completely.

Background:

Daniel was born on September 1st, 1983 in Los Angeles, California, to Andrew and Arabella Walker née Addington. He was the couple's second child, seven years younger than their first son, Elias.

Shortly after Daniel's birth, their mother had caught Andrew in bed with another woman, the affair having started months prior. The divorce was nasty, and Andrew signed away all of his parental rights, having no interest in being a father to his sons. Due to this, their mother worked herself to the bone to provide for her children, while Daniel was left in the care of Elias.

Growing up, Daniel was a happy, outdoorsy kid, from skateboarding with his friends and playing sports after school; he was never one to stay inside for too long. The only drawback was Daniel wishing Elias could spend time with him outside of just being a babysitter whenever their mother wasn't around.

When Daniel was 11, the then 18 year old Elias left home and joined the Army right out of high school. Despite still remaining in contact through letters, phone calls and sending money so his mother could provide, Daniel grew resentful and angry, seeing this as a form of abandonment much like how their father left. Daniel changed for the worst; often getting into trouble at school, whether it was mouthing off to a teacher or getting into fights, and when he got older, he turned to partying, drinking, drugs, and chasing any skirt that came his way. Whenever Elias was home, Daniel would often start arguments with him, despite Arabella's best efforts to keep the peace between her boys.

After he graduated high school, Daniel decided to join the Marines, seeing as college had not been for him and he had flunked out in the first semester. This decision was supported by Elias, hoping it could bridge the gap between them, but Daniel remained cross with him, still clinging onto the bitterness he had when he was younger.

The military life was an entirely different perspective for Daniel. The rigorous training and tight schedule whipped him back up into shape and straightened his bad attitude, something that he grew to be grateful for, as he knew he'd be dead in a ditch somewhere if he continued the way he did prior to enlisting.

Months after he completed basic training, Arabella was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and did not have much time left; her final request being that she spends the remainder of her days with her boys. Both Elias and Daniel, for their mother's sake, stepped up and looked after her when they could. She would eventually pass away in her sleep in late 2003, and this would lead to Daniel and Elias reconciling, and Daniel would be introduced to his nephews, David and Logan, whom he had grown close to.

Daniel gained combat experience throughout the Tel Aviv war, although he would not come out unscathed, with both physical and mental scars.

In 2004, Daniel met Mina Hutchinson, a waitress who worked in a cafe when Daniel was visiting South Dakota. The two eventually fell in love, and got married two years after dating. Mina's good nature and patience tempered out Daniel's hotheadedness, and he considerably mellowed out, much to the gratefulness of Elias, as he was more than happy to see his little brother find someone.

In 2007, Daniel and Mina would have their first kid, a girl they named Arabella after her paternal grandmother. However, Mina passed away shortly after giving birth due to complications, leaving Daniel as a single father. Despite the struggles and grief, after having been abandoned by his own father, Daniel swore to never let that behavior repeat, and with the assistance of Elias he stepped up, and made sure Arabella was loved and taken care of.

Unfortunately, Daniel would not be in his daughter's life for long. In 2011, while on deployment, he and his unit were ambushed by Federation soldiers. Daniel was killed instantly, having been struck by a sniper's round through the back of his skull; he was only 28 years old at the time of his death. He would leave behind the 4 year old Arabella, who would then be taken in by her uncle Elias not long after her father's passing.

[masterofd1saster]

RIP Capt Brian S. Letendre USMC KIA 3may06

Captain Brian S. Letendre, 27, of Woodbridge, Virginia, was killed in action in Al Anbar province on 3 May 2006. He was leading a combined force in an isolated outpost. AQ launched a complex attack that killed him and seriously injured another Marine capt.

Letendre was born in California and raised in Woodbridge, where he graduated from Potomac High School in 1996. He joined the Marines in 2000 after graduating from Milligan College in Tennessee.

He served in OIF as commander of 1/2's CAAT team for which he was recognized with the Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal with a Combat "V" for valor. His decorations also include BSV and PH.

His survivors include his wife, Autumn, his then 3-year-old son Dillon, his parents, and two brothers. If you can visit him in Section 60, drop by and pay your respects.

[pulpandgristle]

II: GUT DEVILS

Pilot ID: Erica Trương, tertiary escort and point-defense operative of the Fledgling Seventh Fleet Status: Active Current Assignment: Supervisor for preliminary acclimation of Pilot ID "Sidewinder"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sortied with the new girl today. The ratty one that still wears Earth denim. The one who cut her hair with the backblast on my mech's heat exchanger.

She ain't shit.

Oh, she'll tell you she is, make no mistake, boasting about her wetwork on the Periphery. Big fuckin' talk for an academy washout. Mercenary piloting isn't something to be proud of, not like the Corps. At least if I die it's for the Septarchy. For something real.

She mocked my umbilical too, the little bitch.

They stuck her with me as a gunner and a haptics backup. Made us share a cockpit too, even though my mech's always been a one-man setup. Command said my injuries made me a liability.

They gave me a babysitter. Fucking horseshit.

If you see any drops in accuracy, it's because of her. She kept misbehaving. I couldn't keep line of sight.

Words carry well in the oxygen medium. Her voice is like a gravel driveway: flat, dark, coarse, dust coming off the words, like she dug them out of her chest.

Out of rubble. Like a brick.

"So, the mech eats for you?"

Of course it does, you fucking idiot. Command won't pay me enough for another jaw. I said yes just to shut her up.

"Can I see?"

Then she just climbed out of her harness. She ran her hands on everything, spidery little fingers pawing at my fucking umbilical with her bare skin, cinching it to see if it hurt.

It did. Kind of. Something like pain. It's why I'm clumsier on the readouts, by the way, Command. Strike it off my record.

"What else can it do for you?"

I told her that Septarchy mechs can make anything, do anything. The cockpit's a womb, after all, it's not special. Pilots just borrow it and pull the body's strings with their fists. Standard procedure.

Every bioframe's been able to do full-body life support for decades. It's why I never leave. Why they grafted my endocrine system and my liver and my pelvis into the wall and filled my torso's empty space with surveillance equipment and gyroscopes.

Then I told her not to fucking touch anything else and to get back in her seat.

She ignored me. Figured she would. Somehow it stung.

Then we took an AP round to the calf and I screamed all undignified and she stole the reins out from under my hands.

She pretended to care that we were live-fire, sat herself in my lap, hung off the port for the secondary trigger by the loose notochord in her right wrist. Nasty craftsmanship on her neural jack, by the way, probably a custom job she did with a dendrite kit and a sharp stick. Completely unsanitary.

I saw the tendons strain. She blinked, bit her tongue, made a spot of blood in the water between us, nailed a bogey from ten thousand meters. Clean.

Lucky shot.

The muzzle flash shone through the mech's skin when she did it, a plume of gossamer light, like a halo, falling in blinding ropes through her charred hair.

Dumb little clocky gut devil. Stop distracting me, goddammit.

The sortie was over two minutes after that. Septarchy won, no casualties, Periphery force 100% KIA. She got eight kills. I got one.

Whatever.

She stepped on my chest when we were getting pulled out of the mech for decon. Then she stole my thunder when we docked and Command gave us honors—oh yeah it was no biggie, thank you so, so, much, really it means the world to me—as if she did everything herself. As if I wasn't fucking driving.

No, she's not a professional. Far from it. She would've pissed in the medium if I wasn't there, the fuckin' slob. Now the entire cockpit smells like her.

Earthy, like Periphery dirt, silicate-rich. A hint of cheap liquor. Sweat and plastic and denim and testosterone, powerful but suppressed, made graceful through discipline and chemicals.

She borrowed some of the mech's estrogen when I wasn't looking, I think. My estrogen. Little goddamn leech. Thief. A disgrace to the Corps.

I want any superior officer that sees this report to listen to me, and listen real fuckin' close. She's a menace. The next time she sorties with our compliment, get me five minutes alone with her while we go through pre-flight checks. She owes me.

Whatever she stole, I want it back.

[whumpscholar]

I saw people introducing OCs for @whump-kia's event so here are some of my silly guys!

Alright, so: we're doing space fantasy. We're doing mecha, some of which are powered by dragons. We're doing ill-considered space travel logistics. Don't worry about it. Posts related to this setting will be tagged #sunsverse; story content will be tagged #the fires of lesser suns.

Pavel Dyatlov, 25, he/him

Affiliation: Crescent Mercenary Group

The oldest member of CMG's pilot corps. Became a soldier so he wouldn't have to run his own life. As far as he's concerned, his life started the day he enlisted.

Maxwell de Lune, 19, he/him

Affiliation: Crescent Mercenary Group

Former shipbreaker from the worst space station you've never heard of. Dreams of getting famous as a combat pilot. Talks to machines.

Kingfisher, 39, she/her

Affiliation: Crescent Mercenary Group

Captain of CMG's flagship, the Clair de Lune.

Arkadia Grace, 20, they/them

Affiliation: Crescent Mercenary Group

Kingfisher's bloody right hand. Claims to have grown up in a palace & has the accent, if not the manners, to prove it.

Escher von Rue, 33, he/him

Affiliation: Circle Parhelia

The third son of a third son. Bad luck to keep the spare's spare on a palace world, so off he went to the cloister. He was ten.

He does not remember his eldest brother's face.

Cordelia von Rue, 16, she/her

Affiliation: Circle Parhelia

Joined the Circle to study medicine, but when they found out she was compatible with their mechs, she was squired to none other than her prodigal older brother. The black sheep.

Delightful.

[catboydogma]

for fox prompts:

thorn's mission to scipio (uh oh) but fox is on a blackout mission when the news comes in so he finds out later

the road south

soleil soleil - pomme

send prompts !

notes: u are very evil for this.

wc: 479

Fox was feeling good about himself when the news came in. That was always what stuck in his memory, after: the feeling of having just come out of a shower, of shaving, looking forward to sleeping on his own cot, cleaning and organizing his kit to put it away for the first time in weeks, and then the shock like falling into cold water at speed.

“Say that again,” Fox said, pressing both hands against his desk. He wasn’t even supposed to be in office—he was off until tomorrow morning, a necessary measure put into place after any trooper’s deep cover mission.

Thire just gave Fox a miserable look, lips pressed into a thin white line and eyes half-lidded with grief and exhaustion. “The Republic takeover of Scipio wiped out two full squadrons. Thorn was KIA. It should have been a damn milk run, escorting a couple of senators into talks with Banking Clan reps.”

And instead, they’d just lost some of their best and brightest. Fox sat down with a jolt that rattled him down to his bones, pressing his knuckles into the top of his desk until he was sure he’d leave two fist-sized dents in the cheap metal. He opened his mouth but no words would come. All he could think was that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Thorn and really looked at him—had it been just before Fox’s deep cover mission? Their last Command meeting? Even before that? It couldn’t have been that long—Thorn was his SIC and a vital piece of the CG Command Corps to boot. But all Fox could think was that it hadn’t been soon enough. A tenday between them, two on the outside, but it hadn’t been soon enough.

He tried again for words, something, anything. “Thorn,” he said, voice cracking on a note of helplessness. “Thorn.”

“Fuck, I know.” Thire’s face crumpled, expression giving in on fault lines of stress and sleeplessness. “I know.” He rounded Fox’s desk to haul Fox to him, heedless of the way his chestplate stabbed Fox in a shoulder through his flightsuit.

“Thorn,” Fox rasped again. His vod. His Commander. His friend. His bulwark. The CG Command Corps was tightknit by necessity but Thorn had always been the most loyal of them all: he volunteered for the hard missions, the missions guaranteed to turn into all-out melee fights, he’d been at Fox’s side since Fox’s promotion to Marshal Commander. All that and more: gone in Fox’s absence. He tried to pull up a memory of Thorn’s smile—frequent and blinding—and could only remember a time before the crow’s feet at the corners of Thorn’s eyes had deepened, before one of his front teeth had chipped. He held onto Thire as tightly as Thire held onto him and let his words slip away from him one by one.

[grandmaster-anne]

15 February 2023 Released on behalf of her Royal Highness the Princess Royal, during her visit to New Zealand for the Royal New Zealand Corps of Signals Centenary Event. "My thoughts are with all New Zealanders whose homes or livelihoods have been affected by Cyclone Gabrielle. I have been given the opportunity to visit the national disaster and crisis headquarters today and I am impressed by the major efforts being undertaken by first responders, local and national agencies to ensure the best possible support for everyone, especially those still at risk. I admire the courage of the people of Aotearoa during this alarming and difficult time. You should all be proud of the resilience, strength and care for your communities you are showing in the face of adversity. Kia Kaha." — The Princess Royal 📸: NZDF Photographer Corporal Naomi James

[thiziri]

The Princess Royal visits New Zealand

Day One

The Princess Royal arrived at Government House in Wellington and was welcomed by the Governor General of New Zealand, Her Excellency the Rt. Hon. Dame Cindy Kiro.

Day Two

Her Royal Highness started the day by meeting the Prime Minister of New Zealand, Christopher Hipkins.

The Princess Royal subsequently visited the National Crisis Management Centre at the Executive Wing in Wellington to meet those involved in the response to Cyclone Gabrielle.

“You should all be proud of the resilience, strength and care for your communities you are showing in the face of adversity.

Kia Kaha”

Her Royal Highness also visited the Museum of New Zealand.

As Colonel-in-Chief of the Royal New Zealand Corps of Signals, Her Royal Highness attended a reception to mark the centenary of the Corps.

The day finished at the National War Memorial in Wellington, where The Princess attended a Service of Remembrance and laid a Wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior.

Day Three

Her Royal Highness visited the New Zealand Riding for the Disabled group in Porirua, and handed out rosettes to young riders and long-serving volunteers. The Princess joined Riding for the Disabled (RDA) as its Patron in 1971, later becoming President in 1985.

Next, Her Royal Highness opened the Mission to Seafarers new Wellington Mission, and later unveiled the foundation stone for the Mission to Seafarers and Merchant Navy Memorial at Wellington Cathedral.

The Princess is President of the charity, which provides support for the practical and spiritual welfare of seafarers of all nationalities and faiths.

Day Four

The Princess Royal started her fourth day in New Zealand at Tūranga Library in Christchurch, to hear about the rebuilding of Christchurch Central City and Christ Church Cathedral. Her Royal Highness also visited the site of Christ Church Cathedral in Cathedral Square.

Later, The Princess Royal attended the Rededication Service for the Citizens' War Memorial and laid a wreath in Cathedral Square.

As President of the Royal Agricultural Society of the Commonwealth, Her Royal Highness met representatives of the Royal Agricultural Society of New Zealand and Canterbury Agricultural and Pastoral Association at Canterbury Agricultural Park.

The Princess Royal later visited Untouched World Merino and Natural Fibre Workrooms.

Afterwards, Her Royal Highness visited Willowbank Wildlife Reserve. The Princess Royal is Patron of the New Zealand Conservation Trust.

© Royal UK

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

WHISKEY'S FAMILY TREE

(back when they were all alive/young-ish)

Owen James Callahan

DOB: August 14th, 1961.

Marital Status: Married.

Status: KIA. 56 years old.

Profession: United States Marine Corps, Master Sergeant.

Evelyn Maria Montero

DOB: January 18th, 1963.

Marital Status: Widow.

Status: Alive.

Profession: Notary.

Madilyn Anne Callahan

DOB: June 26th, 1989.

Marital Status: Married.

Status: Alive.

Profession: High School P.E. Teacher. + Local Little League Coach.

Victoria Isabelle Callahan

DOB: January 18th, 1963.

Marital Status: Married.

Status: Alive.

Profession: United States Navy SEAL, Lieutenant.

Nathaniel Owen Callahan

DOB: August 29th, 1993.

Marital Status: Single.

Status: KIA. 24 years old.

Profession: United States Marine Corps, Staff Sergeant.

[collapsedsquid]

High-level KIA officials acknowledged to me that taxes on jade are the armed group’s primary source of funds. But it is the Tatmadaw and its cronies that are reaping far greater rewards from Kachin’s jeweled heritage. A 2015 Global Witness report compiling evidence of the companies that control many of the major jade mines in Hpakant reads like a Who’s Who of the military elite and its families, including former junta leader Than Shwe and ex-northern command chief Ohn Myint. Conglomerates linked to the army, with generic names like the Union of Myanmar Economic Holdings and Myanmar Economic Corp., hold jade concessions. Both companies were subject to U.S. sanctions until last fall. A major player in Hpakant, locals say, is Wei Hsueh-kang, a former commander of the United Wa State Army, Myanmar’s biggest ethnic armed group. The U.S. State Department has an outstanding reward of up to $2 million for information leading to his capture, based on his alleged role in “the dominant heroin trafficking group in Southeast Asia, and possibly worldwide.” [...] Such passion for jade helps explains why in less than a decade the number of wildcat miners in Hpakant has roughly doubled, as more mountains are reduced to rubble ready for prospecting. Drug use and disease, too, have soared. Hpakant residents estimate that heroin addiction afflicts 75% to 90% of the jade-pickers. And the needles are almost always shared. Thein Than Myo worked at Hmaw Sisar mine for 12 years. Even after he discovered he was HIV-positive, he kept on using, scavenging needles from the ground of shooting galleries. One Kachin NGO says that up to half of all Hpakant miners will eventually contract the virus.

[thistechnologicalterror]

How bout Aayla Secura?

BELIEVE IT OR NOT, I DO NOT THINK OF HER.

... HOLD ON, WAS SHE THE ONE WHO GOT ABSCONDED WITH BY A CLONE COMMANDER AFTER THE ORDER?

WE RECEIVED A KIA REPORT, BUT NO BODY WAS RETRIEVED, AND THE ONE WHO REPORTED WENT MISSING AFTERWARDS.

( COMMANDER... BREE? BLAKE? BLY? I DO NOT REMEMBER, I DID NOT WORK WITH THE STAR CORPS OFTEN. )