#Radar-Platform-as-a-Service

[getvalentined]

An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:

136,635 votes breaks down thusly:

An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)

Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)

This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)

[sayfada]

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[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ryan W. Briggs, Max Marin, and Ellie Rushing at Philadelphia Inquirer:

BETHEL PARK, Pa. — In the sea of caps and gowns, Thomas Matthew Crooks hardly stood out. Few people clapped when his name was called. A YouTube video of his graduation two years ago from Bethel Park High School shows a slender and bespectacled student receiving his diploma with a soft smile. But the class of 2022 awoke Sunday to learn that the 20-year-old Allegheny County man was notorious, the shooter in the assassination attempt on former President Donald Trump during a rally that left an ex-firefighter, Corey Comperatore, dead and two other attendees wounded. U.S. Secret Service counter-snipers killed Crooks moments after he opened fire on the Saturday night rally from a nearby rooftop. The FBI said Sunday they believed he acted alone. He had not been on the bureau’s radar.

Crooks’ actions shocked residents in his hometown, sparked countless conspiracy theories online, and prompted investigators to begin combing through every aspect of his life, looking for motive. The mystery has been fueled by a near-total absence of Crooks’ social media postings, political writings, or other digital fingerprints. Several former classmates appeared on national television Sunday, quickly casting Crooks as a stereotypical loner who was bullied heavily during his time at Bethel Park. One of them, Jason Kohler, told reporters Sunday that students tormented Crooks “almost every day” and that he often wore “hunting” outfits to class. “He was just an outcast,” Kohler said, “and you know how kids are nowadays.” Yet, two former students interviewed by The Inquirer disputed the characterization. They did not recall specific incidents of violence or other antagonism involving their now-infamous classmate in the community they described as generally tight-knit.

[...] The slight traces of public information Crooks left behind leave few clues about his political ideology. Federal campaign finance records show he made a $15 donation to progressive political action committee in 2021 after President Joe Biden’s election, but later registered as a Republican, according to Pennsylvania voter data. His father was a registered Libertarian, his mother a Democrat. Crooks’ body was found on the rooftop of an agricultural tool manufacturing plant a few hundred feet from the rally with an AR-style semiautomatic rifle — legally purchased by his father. The shooter was wearing a T-shirt promoting “The Demolition Ranch,” a YouTube channel for gun enthusiasts. If Crooks maintained any personal social media presence, it went largely undetected on Sunday. Discord, an instant messaging platform mainly used by video gamers, released a statement acknowledging Crooks held a “rarely utilized” account that contained no information relevant to the shooting.

Sigafoos did not recall Crooks making political overtures in class, but rather as someone interested in how government works, and “not trying to insert his own beliefs into it.” Another former classmate did not share this view. Max R. Smith recalled taking an American history course with Crooks as a sophomore. He did recall Crooks making political statements — but they shed no light on his actions Saturday. “He definitely was conservative,” he said. “It makes me wonder why he would carry out an assassination attempt on the conservative candidate.” Smith recalled a mock debate in which their history professor posed government policy questions and asked students to stand on one side of the classroom or the other to signal their support or opposition for a given proposal. “The majority of the class were on the liberal side, but Tom, no matter what, always stood his ground on the conservative side,” Smith said. “That’s still the picture I have of him. Just standing alone on one side while the rest of the class was on the other.”

The gunman who killed rallygoer Corey Comperatore and attempted the assassination of Donald Trump at Saturday night’s Butler, PA rally was not only a registered Republican but also a vehement conservative.

This should hopefully put an end to the right-wing’s nonsensical claim that a “violent leftist”/”Antifa” tried to kill Trump.

[noenvyy]

Bill H.R. 9495--Declares Certain Non-profits terrorist organizations

Please read and share and CALL YOUR SENATORS

EMERGENCY: Earlier today, MAGA Republicans in Congress just rammed through legislation that could give Donald Trump the power to destroy organizations that oppose him—including MoveOn.1

Even more terrifying, 15 Democrats voted in favor of the bill.2

The bill, H.R. 9495, gives the Treasury Department—i.e., the Trump administration—unilateral power to declare a nonprofit to be a "terrorist-supporting organization" and strip its tax-exempt status.3 Organizations that oppose him could be shut down with just a swipe of a pen from Trump.

While Trump's Cabinet appointees soaked up the news cycle, the House tried to push this thoroughly dangerous bill under the radar last week. Two-thirds of the House was initially needed to pass the bill. But now Speaker Mike Johnson has figured out a new way to require only a simple majority to pass the bill, and the House voted to pass the bill earlier today.

H.R. 9495 was originally written to attack organizations showing support for Palestinians, and it is a dire threat to nongovernment organizations trying to support the Palestinian people suffering in the current war, but it could give the Trump administration the ability to declare any organization as "supporting terrorists"—with no proof, no burden of evidence, no due process.4,5

More than 150 religious, reproductive health, immigrant rights, human rights, racial justice, LGBTQ+, environmental, and educational organizations, led by the American Civil Liberties Union, have spoken up against this awful bill.6

The House tried to push through the bill with a two-thirds majority procedure last week, and 52 Democrats voted for it.7 Today they needed only a simple majority, and the House passed the bill with the support of 15 Democrats. We cannot allow a MAGA-controlled Senate in January to pass this bill.

This bill is different. If it passes, it has the possibility to silence any organization that Trump targets. And considering his history of retribution, we know he won't miss out on this opportunity to try to shut us down. It's an especially frightening prospect given Trump's previous attempt to designate anti-MAGA protesters and pro-Palestinian advocates as terrorists, and to vilify those he disagrees with as the "enemy from within."10

We need to sound the alarm in a major way to stop H.R. 9495 and prevent Trump from shutting down nonprofit organizations!

Please, please please, flood the Senate with calls to make it very clear that we will not abide by this attack on our First Amendment rights. We need to step up before it's too late. Use this link to find and contact your representatives: https://www.house.gov/representatives/find-your-representative

Take Action: Tell Congress to OPPOSE H.R. 9495

1. Visit the IS Action Center to sign a petition to oppose H.R. 9495. 

2. Call your Congressional Representative TODAY and urge them to vote NO on H.R. 9495 when it comes up again for a vote. You can find contact information for your Member of Congress here. And the list of California representatives who already voted yes on previous votes here.

3. Social Media Engagement: Post on your platforms and tag your Representative to urge them to oppose H.R.9495.

Sample posts:

ACTION NEEDED As a constituent of [@RepresentativesSocialMedia] and a staunch supporter of the nonprofit sector, I urge you to vote NO on H.R. 9495. This bill may be well-intentioned but it erodes due process and jeopardizes vital services for vulnerable communities.

Nonprofits are critical to our communities. H.R. 9495 may mean well, but it threatens due process and risks harming those we serve. [@RepresentativesSocialMedia], vote NO on #HR9495. #ProtectNonprofits 

Sample script for calling your representative:

I’m calling to urge you to oppose H.R. 9495, the Stop Terror-Financing and Tax Penalties on American Hostages Act, scheduled for a vote later today. This bill poses a direct threat to nonprofits by granting the Treasury Secretary unchecked power to label organizations as “terrorist supporting” and strip their tax-exempt status. Even worse, this can happen without evidence, intentional links, or any requirement to disclose the reasons for the designation. The lack of due process and accountability leaves nonprofits defenseless against vague and potentially politically motivated accusations.

While the bill includes provisions for tax relief for American hostages—a noble cause—this should not come at the expense of jeopardizing nonprofit operations and democratic values. These provisions should be separated into their own bill that doesn’t include the unchecked harm to nonprofits. 

Please oppose H.R. 9495 to protect nonprofits and the communities they serve. Thank you for your time and consideration.

____________________________________________________________

Sources:

1. "HR 9495: Bill Threatening Nonprofits Passes House," Nonprofit Quarterly, November 21, 2024 https://act.moveon.org/go/200463?t=8&akid=416946%2E34090080%2EE7NXm5

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

4. "Congress Is About to Gift Trump Sweeping Powers to Crush His Political Enemies," The Intercept, November 10, 2024 https://act.moveon.org/go/200453?t=10&akid=416946%2E34090080%2EE7NXm5

5. Ibid.

6. "Civil Society Letter to House Opposing H.R. 9495," ACLU, September 20, 2024 https://act.moveon.org/go/198929?t=12&akid=416946%2E34090080%2EE7NXm5

7. "House GOP Moves to Ram Through Bill That Gives Trump Unilateral Power to Kill Nonprofits," The Intercept, November 15, 2024 https://act.moveon.org/go/200452?t=14&akid=416946%2E34090080%2EE7NXm5

8. "No Labels files DOJ complaint about groups boycotting its 2024 presidential ballot access effort," CBS News, January 18, 2024 https://act.moveon.org/go/186092?t=16&akid=416946%2E34090080%2EE7NXm5

9. "MoveOn.org and Bucks man defend post-insurrection petition in NAC, Worthington defamation claim," Phillyburbs.com, June 7, 2021 https://act.moveon.org/go/200454?t=18&akid=416946%2E34090080%2EE7NXm5

10. "Scalise preps vote on terrorism bill decried as a gift for Trump," MSNBC, November 19, 2024 https://act.moveon.org/go/200446?t=20&akid=416946%2E34090080%2EE7NXm5

[goslings-girlx]

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Only God Forgives (2013)

DISNEY+ :

Remember The Titans

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Now, streaming services often let go and add new movies to there platforms so this can be updated if you guys would like me to! (Btw Lalaland was just added to Netflix today + Blade Runner was just taken OFF of Disney+ a week ago T_T)

[usafphantom2]

The AD-5N ‘Skyraider’ and Its Little-Known Nuclear Role in the Cold War

David Cenciotti

AD-5N

In late 1958, during heightened tensions in the Taiwan Strait, Skyraider pilots were prepped for nuclear strike missions. They spent tense hours at night, seated in their aircraft and ready for catapult launch with nuke bombs, before the mission was ultimately called off…

The Douglas A-1 Skyraider, also known as the “Spad,” was a legendary single-engine aircraft, as well as the last propeller U.S. Navy attack aircraft to disappear from the decks of the Navy’s aircraft carriers.

In late 1958, during heightened tensions in the Taiwan Strait, Skyraider pilots were prepped for nuclear strike missions. They spent tense hours at night, seated in their aircraft and ready for catapult launch with nuke bombs, before the mission was ultimately called off…Nuclear attack Skyraider

Renowned for its rugged design and long endurance, the Skyraider had an exceptional payload capacity: even when it carried its full internal fuel of 2,280 pounds, a 2,200-lb torpedo, two 2,000-lb bombs, 12,5 inch rockets, two 20 mm guns and 240 pounds of ammunition, the Skyraider was still under its maximum gross weight of 25,000 pounds.

Conceived during World War II, the Skyraider saw extensive service during the Korean and Vietnam Wars, excelling in close air support, search and rescue, and interdiction roles. However, its ability to carry a diverse array of munitions, including conventional bombs, rockets, and even torpedoes, made it a versatile platform.

AD-5N

Douglas AD-5N Skyraider of VA(AW)-33 Det.42 circa in 1958 (Image credit: U.S. Navy)

Among its variants, the AD-5N was a specialized version of the Skyraider, featuring a widened fuselage to accommodate a crew of four and advanced avionics for precision operations in challenging conditions.

Nuclear attack Skyraider

At the end of the 1950s, pilots of VA(AW)-33 flew AD-5N aircraft off the USS Essex, primarily training for nuclear strike missions. They specialized in low-level, long-range operations, using tech like the Bureau of Ordnance Atomic Rocket (BOAR) rocket and the Low Altitude Bombing System (LABS) bombing system.

Flying just 50 feet above water or skimming treetops on land, missions were top-secret, with each pilot assigned a unique target. Crews of three or four included electronics techs, practicing whenever budget allowed, both in the U.S. and Europe. Real missions were essentially one-way, though their rocket-powered weapon offered a slight survival edge.

The pilot’s side panel on the AD-5N aircraft. The LABS timer light can be seen on top of the panel on the right side and the NAV/LABS cross pointer instrument is also on the right side, about half way down. (Image via Stephen Miller)

Stephen Miller is a retired electrical engineer, lifelong aviator who spent some time as a Naval Aviator. After flight training, he was assigned to VA(AW)33 in Atlantic City, NJ, flying AD-5N. Here’s what he wrote to us about his time flying the low level long range nuclear weapon delivery mission with the Skyraider.

I joined the Navy right after graduating from Miami of Ohio with a BS in business and was just a few hours short of a commercial certificate at that time. After flight training, I was assigned to VA(AW)33 flying AD-5N in 1956.

In 1957-1958 various detachments consisting of four aircraft were assigned to their respective carriers and were involved in the attendant cruises from time to time. Ours was the USS ESSEX, CVA9. This was strictly during the cold war, between the Korean war and Vietnam.

Our primary mission was low level long range nuclear weapon delivery. This consisted of 50 ft over water and about 150 ft over land (treetop level). All navigation was done using pilotage/dead reckoning and was practised both here and in Europe. There were no radars at that time that could detect a low flying aircraft, due to ground clutter. Our long range cruise airspeed was 160 kts and we’d wait for the engine to sputter before switching back from an empty drop tank to the main. We typically used one or two crewmen to help with the navigation, the same guys (ET’s, Electronic Technicians) who maintained the equipment.

We also had a ground mapping radar, the APS-31, a pod-mounted wing unit.

In mid 1957 we attended a special weapons school in Norfolk VA which covered the operation of the weapon, the Bureau of Ordnance Atomic Rocket (BOAR) and the Low Altitude Bombing System (LABS). They had a working BOAR in the classroom, minus the warhead and we learned how to connect and use the test box to check it out. I was scheduled to make a test run to a simulated target with a live BOAR which had the 1000 lbs of HE (high explosive) used to detonate the nuclear core, but without the core installed. This was ultimately cancelled, but the exercise proceeded without employing the BOAR.

The delivery sequence worked as follows: The LABS contained a timer, accelerometer and a precise gyro heading reference. Just before reaching the IP (initial position for starting the final run toward the release point), the aircraft had to be at max speed (about 240 kts), full or “military” power, limited to five minutes, on heading and maintaining a stable treetop altitude, with the weapon armed.

Upon passing the IP a button on the stick was pressed and the timer would start for the 2-3 minute run. Simultaneously, the vertical nav indicator normally used for VOR/TACAN/ILS LOCALIZER was switched to provide the precise heading reference. At the same time a short panel light and headset tone were activated as well.

When the timer ran out, another short light/tone indicated the aircraft had reached the point to start the launch maneuver. The pilot would then pull and hold the trigger while pulling the nose up in a precise manner using the accelerometer. The horizontal nav indicator normally used for the ILS GLIDESLOPE would switch to this function and initially drop down; it was up to the pilot to raise the nose smoothly to bring the indicator to the center (horizontal) position. This would insure the right amount of “g’s” to produce the desired weapon trajectory upon release, which was automatic when the release attitude was reached.

The BOAR was blown away from the aircraft by the equivalent of four shotgun shells and had a pigtail attached to the airframe which would stretch out and then pull out of the back of the weapon, starting the rocket motor. This weapon had a top speed in the 400kt range and covered a distance of about 7.5 miles.

At this point the AD-5N was entering the initial entry into a loop but was too slow to make it over the top, requiring a wing over to end the maneuver, pickup speed and reverse direction. This was a modified version of a maneuver called a “half Cuban 8”, in this case known as the “idiot loop”.

For propeller driven aircraft the completion of the loop was only possible by a more capable airplane like the single seat AD6, for example. Use of a rocket powered weapon would allow the aircraft to escape the blast zone but the enormous shock wave would have unpredictable results. Some nuclear weapons were unpowered bombs, such that no escape from the blast was possible if delivered in this manner by a propeller driven aircraft. No one was expected back from these missions. Fortunately it never became necessary.

On a Mediterranean cruise during the 1957-58 period we did have a night drill to get a live BOAR ready for launch, but that’s as far as it went, at least for our squadron. At one point we were each assigned top secret targets following background checks for this purpose. These targets were planned and the charts supplied by some unknown source, at least to us, and the zig-zag routes highlighted as well. My best guess is this came from the Pentagon. They were kept in a locked safe with individual combinations. We were required to study our respective routes in our spare time and no one knew what anyone else’s target was. These were strictly visual day missions, though we would probably launch at night in time to reach the beach by daylight. We did have the advantage of radar assist, at least to pick out prominent features like lakes/rivers etc, as well as crewmen to help look for check points. The biggest problem we faced was the fact that the charts over enemy territory were known to contain errors. This only added to the difficulty of attempting to navigate using pilotage/dead reckoning at treetop level in the first place!

In late 1958 during the Quemoy/Matsu island crisis, we were in that area and a friend of mine was there as well with a Pacific fleet squadron flying AD6’s. He sat for two hours on a dark night in his aircraft, hooked up to the catapult, ready to launch with a nuke until they finally called it off. I doubt that this is widely known. That nuclear bomb was a Mark 7 unpowered device. It was a standard nuclear bomb of that time, the yield determined by the size of the nuclear core. A typical mid range core was 18-22 kilotons, about the same as the one dropped on Nagasaki.

Other Navy/Air Force squadrons flying various types of aircraft (primarily jets) had other delivery methods as well. This was our particular experience.

LTJG Miller (via Stephen Miller)

After his tour as a naval aviator Stephen spent a few years in aviation doing charter and flight instructor work flying all the usual single/multi engine aircraft, a stint with Mohawk Airlines flying Convair 240/440 aircraft and ultimately had his own business as an FBO.

I eventually left the aviation industry to pursue a degree in electrical engineering, though I continued flying part time, graduating from Umass Dartmouth in 1967. My career as an engineer subsequently encompassed working for a variety of employers in both design and management, commercial and military and for both large and small firms. My duties often included serving as company pilot as well. One such firm was an autopilot manufacturer which introduced me to that particular industry as well.

In later life I spent some time with the CAP, but now at age 90 I haven’t been current for about 20 years. Hopefully, the information I’ve submitted will be of some historical value to those interested in the Cold War period of the 1950s.

@The Aviationist.com

[kushblazer666]

'Why I Won't Vote'

By W.E.B. Dubois, The Nation, 20 October 1956

Since I was twenty-one in 1889, I have in theory followed the voting plan strongly advocated by Sidney Lens in The Nation of August 4, i.e., voting for a third party even when its chances were hopeless, if the main parties were unsatisfactory; or, in absence of a third choice, voting for the lesser of two evils. My action, however, had to be limited by the candidates' attitude toward Negroes. Of my adult life, I have spent twenty-three years living and teaching in the South, where my voting choice was not asked. I was disfranchised by law or administration. In the North I lived in all thirty-two years, covering eight Presidential elections. In 1912 I wanted to support Theodore Roosevelt, but his Bull Moose convention dodged the Negro problem and I tried to help elect Wilson as a liberal Southerner. Under Wilson came the worst attempt at Jim Crow legislation and discrimination in civil service that we had experienced since the Civil War. In 1916 I took Hughes as the lesser of two evils. He promised Negroes nothing and kept his word. In 1920, I supported Harding because of his promise to liberate Haiti. In 1924, I voted for La Follette, although I knew he could not be elected. In 1928, Negroes faced absolute dilemma. Neither Hoover nor Smith wanted the Negro vote and both publicly insulted us. I voted for Norman Thomas and the Socialists, although the Socialists had attempted to Jim Crow Negro members in the South. In 1932 I voted for Franklin Roosevelt, since Hoover was unthinkable and Roosevelt's attitude toward workers most realistic. I was again in the South from 1934 until 1944. Technically I could vote, but the election in which I could vote was a farce. The real election was the White Primary.

Retired "for age" in 1944, I returned to the North and found a party to my liking. In 1948, I voted the Progressive ticket for Henry Wallace and in 1952 for Vincent Hallinan.

In 1956, I shall not go to the polls. I have not registered. I believe that democracy has so far disappeared in the United States that no "two evils" exist. There is but one evil party with two names, and it will be elected despite all I can do or say. There is no third party. On the Presidential ballot in a few states (seventeen in 1952), a "Socialist" Party will appear. Few will hear its appeal because it will have almost no opportunity to take part in the campaign and explain its platform. If a voter organizes or advocates a real third-party movement, he may be accused of seeking to overthrow this government by "force and violence." Anything he advocates by way of significant reform will be called "Communist" and will of necessity be Communist in the sense that it must advocate such things as government ownership of the means of production; government in business; the limitation of private profit; social medicine, government housing and federal aid to education; the total abolition of race bias; and the welfare state. These things are on every Communist program; these things are the aim of socialism. Any American who advocates them today, no matter how sincerely, stands in danger of losing his job, surrendering his social status and perhaps landing in jail. The witnesses against him may be liars or insane or criminals. These witnesses need give no proof for their charges and may not even be known or appear in person. They may be in the pay of the United States Government. A.D.A.'s and "Liberals" are not third parties; they seek to act as tails to kites. But since the kites are self-propelled and radar-controlled, tails are quite superfluous and rather silly.

The present Administration is carrying on the greatest preparation for war in the history of mankind. Stevenson promises to maintain or increase this effort. The weight of our taxation is unbearable and rests mainly and deliberately on the poor. This Administration is dominated and directed by wealth and for the accumulation of wealth. It runs smoothly like a well-organized industry and should do so because industry runs it for the benefit of industry. Corporate wealth profits as never before in history. We turn over the national resources to private profit and have few funds left for education, health or housing. Our crime, especially juvenile crime, is increasing. Its increase is perfectly logical; for a generation we have been teaching our youth to kill, destroy, steal and rape in war; what can we expect in peace? We let men take wealth which is not theirs; if the seizure is "legal" we call it high profits and the profiteers help decide what is legal. If the theft is "illegal" the thief can fight it out in court, with excellent chances to win if he receives the accolade of the right newspapers. Gambling in home, church and on the stock market is increasing and all prices are rising. It costs three times his salary to elect a Senator and many millions to elect a President. This money comes from the very corporations which today are the government. This in a real democracy would be enough to turn the party responsible out of power. Yet this we cannot do.

The "other" party has surrendered all party differences in foreign affairs, and foreign affairs are our most important affairs today and take most of our taxes. Even in domestic affairs how does Stevenson differ from Eisenhower? He uses better English than Dulles, thank God! He has a sly humor, where Eisenhower has none. Beyond this Stevenson stands on the race question in the South not far from where his godfather Adlai stood sixty-three years ago, which reconciles him to the South. He has no clear policy on war or preparation for war; on water and flood control; on reduction of taxation; on the welfare state. He wavers on civil rights and his party blocked civil rights in the Senate until Douglas of Illinois admitted that the Democratic Senate would and could stop even the right of Senators to vote. Douglas had a right to complain. Three million voters sent him to the Senate to speak for them. His voice was drowned and his vote nullified by Eastland, the chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, who was elected by 151,000 voters. This is the democracy in the United States which we peddle abroad.

Negroes hope to muster 400,000 votes in 1956. Where will they cast them? What have the Republicans done to enforce the education decision of the Supreme Court? What they advertised as fair employment was exactly nothing, and Nixon was just the man to explain it. What has the Administration done to rescue Negro workers, the most impoverished group in the nation, half of whom receive less than half the median wage of the nation, while the nation sends billions abroad to protect oil investments and help employ slave labor in the Union of South Africa and the Rhodesias? Very well, and will the party of Talmadge, Eastland and Ellender do better than the Republicans if the Negroes return them to office?

I have no advice for others in this election. Are you voting Democratic? Well and good; all I ask is why? Are you voting for Eisenhower and his smooth team of bright ghost writers? Again, why? Will your helpless vote either way support or restore democracy to America?

Is the refusal to vote in this phony election a counsel of despair? No, it is dogged hope. It is hope that if twenty-five million voters refrain from voting in 1956 because of their own accord and not because of a sly wink from Khrushchev, this might make the American people ask how much longer this dumb farce can proceed without even a whimper of protest. Yet if we protest, off the nation goes to Russia and China. Fifty-five American ministers and philanthropists are asking the Soviet Union "to face manfully the doubts and promptings of their conscience." Can not these do-gooders face their own consciences? Can they not see that American culture is rotting away: our honesty, our human sympathy; our literature, save what we import from abroad? Our only "review" of literature has wisely dropped "literature" from its name. Our manners are gone and the one thing we want is to be rich--to show off. Success is measured by income. University education is for income, not culture, and is partially supported by private industry. We are not training poets or musicians, but atomic engineers. Business is built on successful lying called advertising. We want money in vast amount, no matter how we get it. So we have it, and what then?

Is the answer the election of 1956? We can make a sick man President and set him to a job which would strain a man in robust health. So he dies, and what do we get to lead us? With Stevenson and Nixon, with Eisenhower and Eastland, we remain in the same mess. I will be no party to it and that will make little difference. You will take large part and bravely march to the polls, and that also will make no difference. Stop running Russia and giving Chinese advice when we cannot rule ourselves decently. Stop yelling about a democracy we do not have. Democracy is dead in the United States. Yet there is still nothing to replace real democracy. Drop the chains, then, that bind our brains. Drive the money-changers from the seats of the Cabinet and the halls of Congress. Call back some faint spirit of Jefferson and Lincoln,and when again we can hold a fair election on real issues, let's vote, and not till then. Is this impossible? Then democracy in America is impossible.

[cherrygirlystuff]

From Myspace to Spotify: The Journey of Indie Sleaze Music in the Digital Age 🌐

Hey there, indie dreamer! 🎸 Ready for a nostalgic trip through the evolution of indie sleaze music? From the early days of Myspace to the modern streaming era on Spotify, indie sleaze has undergone a wild transformation. Let's dive into how this raw, rebellious genre has adapted and thrived in the digital age, and why it’s still resonating with listeners today.

1. The Myspace Era: Indie Sleaze’s First Digital Playground

Back in the early 2000s, Myspace was the epicenter of indie music discovery. It was the place where bands could upload their tracks, connect with fans, and build a following without needing a major label. Indie sleaze artists were quick to embrace this new digital frontier, using Myspace as their stage and connecting with a global audience in ways that had never been possible before.

DIY Spirit: Myspace was a haven for the DIY ethos that indie sleaze embraced. Bands like The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Arctic Monkeys used the platform to share their music directly with fans, bypassing traditional media and labels. Their raw, unpolished sound fit perfectly with the unfiltered vibe of Myspace.

Visual Aesthetic: Bands and fans alike used Myspace’s customizable profiles to express their indie sleaze style. With an abundance of glittery backgrounds, band posters, and those iconic “Top 8” friend lists, the platform was a digital reflection of the era’s grungy, glamorous aesthetic.

2. From Downloads to Streams: The Shift to Digital Platforms

As the digital music landscape evolved, so did indie sleaze. The rise of platforms like iTunes and, later, streaming services like Spotify changed the way music was consumed and shared. This transition brought new opportunities and challenges for indie sleaze artists.

Digital Downloads: Platforms like iTunes allowed fans to buy and download individual tracks, making it easier for indie sleaze bands to reach new audiences. Artists could release singles and EPs without needing a full album, and fans could curate their own playlists of their favorite tracks.

Streaming Services: Enter Spotify, Apple Music, and other streaming platforms. The shift from downloads to streaming changed everything. Indie sleaze bands had to adapt to a world where music was less about owning tracks and more about playlist placement and algorithmic recommendations.

3. The Rise of Playlists and Algorithmic Discovery

One of the biggest changes in the music industry over the past decade has been the rise of playlists and algorithmic discovery. For indie sleaze artists, this new way of reaching listeners has both benefits and challenges.

Playlist Power: Playlists like Spotify’s ��Discover Weekly” and “Release Radar” have become crucial for indie artists. Getting featured on a popular playlist can lead to a surge in streams and new fans. Indie sleaze tracks with their catchy hooks and raw energy often find a perfect home on these curated lists.

Algorithmic Challenges: While algorithms help discover new music, they also mean that artists need to navigate an ever-changing digital landscape. Standing out in a crowded field requires savvy marketing, consistent releases, and a strong online presence. Indie sleaze bands are learning to leverage social media and streaming data to connect with listeners and build their brand.

4. The Influence of Social Media: TikTok and Beyond

The rise of social media platforms like TikTok has brought a whole new dimension to music discovery. For indie sleaze, TikTok’s short-form video format and viral trends have become a new way to connect with fans and introduce their music to a wider audience.

Viral Hits: TikTok has the power to turn obscure indie tracks into viral sensations. Songs that capture the spirit of indie sleaze—whether through their raw lyrics, catchy beats, or nostalgic vibes—are finding new life on the platform. Creators use these tracks in videos, dance challenges, and memes, leading to a resurgence of interest in the genre.

Fan Engagement: Social media allows artists to interact directly with their fans, building a community around their music. Indie sleaze bands are using platforms like Instagram and Twitter to share behind-the-scenes content, engage with fans, and keep their audience updated on new releases.

5. The Revival of Indie Sleaze: A New Generation Embraces the Sound

Despite the changes in how music is consumed, indie sleaze is experiencing a revival. A new generation is discovering and embracing the genre, inspired by the nostalgia of the early 2000s and the raw, unfiltered energy that indie sleaze represents.

Nostalgic Resurgence: The early 2000s sound is making a comeback, with both new and old artists embracing the grunge pop aesthetic. The rise of vintage-inspired fashion and music is bringing indie sleaze back into the spotlight, with playlists and radio stations dedicated to the genre.

Cultural Impact: Indie sleaze’s influence is seen in modern fashion, film, and art. The grungy, carefree style of the early 2000s is being reinterpreted for today’s audience, blending nostalgia with contemporary creativity.

Final Thoughts, Babe: The Journey Continues

From the DIY spirit of Myspace to the streaming era of Spotify and the viral world of TikTok, indie sleaze has navigated a complex and ever-changing digital landscape. Despite the challenges, the genre remains as vibrant and relevant as ever, resonating with both old fans and a new generation discovering its raw, rebellious charm.

So next time you’re curating your playlist or scrolling through social media, remember the journey indie sleaze has taken to get here. Whether you’re rediscovering the classics or finding new favorites, the spirit of indie sleaze lives on—gritty, glamorous, and forever cool. 🎶✨

[rizsu]

cashier's revenge gojo satoru.

sum. annoying ex!gojo gets his lick back. not beta read !

satoru's existence itself is a warning. is it a harzardous warning? not quite, but it's also not a good one. at this very moment, at this very precised second, gojo satoru is contemplating the consequences of clocking out of work before his shift is up. in his eyes, if it's executed properly, it can work. the only downside would be the possibility of getting fired.

he cannot afford such a tragedy. being a man in today's day and age comes at an expensive cost. one day satoru promises to find AND deliver punishment to whoever created the "men are the breadwinners." motion. he suffers from society's insane capitalism and boy might he just dive into hell. head first, even. perhaps even toes first, if he's feeling special.

satoru's current employment stems from two reasons. not one, not three, but two:

1. his urge to prove that he can be better off without you.

2. getō suguru, someone's that's just as bad as he is, told him he had the chance to do the funniest thing ever.

now, don't mistake him! gojo satoru is not easily influenced ( he is. ) he knows right from wrong ( sometimes. )

prior to him signing up as a cashier, your break-up was mutual. he agreed to let you go and you agreed that you weren't committed to being in a full relationship yet. on his vision, he hated that he had to let you go; his attachment grew and he couldn't go two days without bothering you.

it would've disgusted satoru if he made you stay with him but god he wished you would've done so.

bored and bothered, satoru fiddles with his fingers, unable to find entertainment elsewhere due to his phone's low battery warning.

"if no one enters in the next five minutes maybe i can — fuck," feeling his right eye twitch, satoru exhales a deep sigh. not only did someone enter but that unlucky customer happened to be you, y/n l/n.

his eyes following your body, praying that you magically decided to no longer buy anything. unfortunately for him, he cannot get everything he wants in life. watching you make your way to his position, he chants a line of curses before going into automatic-customer-service mode.

"hi," satoru begins, forcing his sunshine-like smile, "what would you have today? any menu specials?"

"hello! i'd like to have a — oh my god it's you.." stopping mid-sentence, you clutch the strap of your handbag. the odds weren't one hundred but they definitely weren't zero.

'am i a curse or what?' gojo thinks. your expressions most certainly didn't bypass his radar. setting his offense aside, he continues, "i'm sorry, we don't have an "oh my god it's you" on the menu!"

"sorry, i'll have the daily special," counting the money needed, you wait for him to finish his cashier duties.

"that'll be ten dollars and ninety-nine cents," satoru says, raising his hand to collect the money. for some rather peculiar reason, it seems as though a twenty dollar bill is stuck on its owner's hand.

"miss, please let go of the bill."

"whatever do you mean?"

scoffing, satoru yanks the bill out of your hand. he watches as you twist your face into disgust and shake your hand off. he's sorry, really, but he has to put himself first at times.

—

although satoru was set on escaping early, he now has a reason to stay longer. going out of his way to deliver your meal, satoru sits in front of you. he has the plot and the platform.

"here's your meal, bill, and change," sliding everything to you, he sits with folded arms. this position means business. formal business.

"thank you — but what are you doing there?" you question him, squinting your eyes at his choice of movement.

"don't question me. how have you been though?"

pulling out your fries, you tilt them to his direction, offering them to him. "i've been wonderful, you?"

"my life has been fine. i've recovered ever since you broke up with me," taking a single fry, he shakes his head as he munches.

"that's crazy but why're you even here?" you couldn't contain your curiosity.

"ever since you broke my heart, i needed to get my life back." gojo takes two fries this time, munching them in sadness.

"ah, i see." you reply.

"it's amazing that you can see ever since you broke up with—"

"do NOT finish that sentence." glaring at satoru, you shut down his pity party. whatever he has going on needs to stop.

"you stop me from doing stuff the same way you stopped my heart ever since you —" satoru tries to finish but was met with a burger being shoved in his mouth.

smiling to himself, he compliments himself as he managed to annoy you. satoru can only thank the gods that you don't despise him. even if you do then that's a problem for someone else.

on your side, you're regretting handing over your burger to him. you were sure that breaking up with him will cause a broken heart but it seems like someone's doing fine. taking a sip from your drink, you look at satoru who's happily eating your food. 'he looks cute' you think.

"satoru," you speak up, redirecting his attention from the burger and onto you.

"hm?" he hums, wiping away the sauces on his face.

inhaling a deep breath, you mentally prepare before asking him, "wanna come over tonight?"

satoru's mouth shaped like an 'O', he thinks for a while before agreeing, "i'd love to — especially after you broke up with me."

"i swear i will kill you, satoru."

[madsworld15]

Why Queer as Folk (2000) Was Seemingly Forgotten

An analysis by a professional TV Critic

Let me start off by saying the initial run of Queer as Folk and its current resurgence can be represented by this mantra by Brian Kinney: There are two kinds of straight people. The ones who hate you to your back and the ones who hate you to your face.

The initial run of QAF coincides with the first half of the statement: hate behind your back.

So, recently I started thinking about how in the early 2000s, Queer as Folk seemed to be on a trajectory of going down in TV history. Then, seemingly just as quickly, people stopped talking about it. So much so that by the time I finished watching it in 2009, I only got a few good months of chatter on social media platforms (Twitter mostly) with other fans before it just stopped being talked about in a wide-reaching manner.

I will even admit that I stopped thinking about the show not long after that and wasn't reminded of its full impact on my psyche until late last year when it was back on easy-access streaming due to Showtime's merge with Paramount+.

But why is it that this show is only just now starting to pick up speed again? (I'm talking fan cams on TikTok, memes, etc.)

I have some theories about all of this, so buckle in.

To really get a grasp of what Queer as Folk was working against when it aired on Showtime -- a paid subscription channel back before the days of an overabundance of streaming services, you have to look at the climate we were living in. Also, how inaccessible a paid TV channel was for most people.

So, in the early 2000s, life in the United States, and probably the world, but I'm not fully educated enough to comment on that, wasn't the greatest for those in the LGBT+ community. It would be years before the President of the United States would pass legislation that Gay Marriage be legal nationwide.

Employers were able to fire people for being gay, and the employees couldn't fight it. Gay parents had very little in terms of rights to their own children; in fact, some couldn't even adopt the kids they wanted to because there were no laws against discrimination.

All of these things are depicted left and right throughout Queer as Folk, with Ted getting fired from his job, Michael being extremely closeted at his job, and Melanie not being afforded rights to Gus because of adoption regulations during that time.

So, for our community to receive a show that was by us for us, we were overjoyed. There was something so resolutely refreshing about the unapologetic manner in which these characters were allowed to present themselves and live their lives. And while the show gets dinged today for its lack of racial diversity, we were glad to see queer people represented in a variety of ways -- we got to see the Emmett's and Justin's of the world being friends with the Ted's and Michael's and Brian's.

Not only that, these characters got to love who they wanted, however, they wanted, and whenever they wanted. Characters like Michael and Emmett could go from wanting to freely fuck whoever to finding that special person and settling down. We got to see Ted find the right guy at the wrong time over and over and over again until it was finally the right guy at the right time.

But most of all, we got to see a character like Brian, who, in the hands of a straight person, might've actually gone "soft" and "domestic" just by being with Justin. Instead, we got to see him never change his opinion about what he wanted, but still finding love in his own way.

However, not long after the show ended (like around 2008), the climate in the United States started to shift more towards open acceptance of the queer community. So, people stopped needing an escape from the hardships of real life because things seemed to be on an upward trend toward love and equality. Therefore, Queer as Folk sort of fell off the radar of viewers because we didn't want more of the gritty, complicated, messy queer stories. We wanted our stories to be happy and lighthearted.

(Keep in mind I am speaking in terms of general viewers. There are always exceptions to the rule)

Then, in 2016, Donald Trump was elected President of the United States, and suddenly, it was totally okay for people to openly mock us and hate us.

This is where the resurgence of QAF falls into the second half of Brian's mantra: hate us to our face.

Around 2016/2017, people started talking about this show again. And the love and fervor for it has only increased exponentially over the last few years, especially with the onset of COVID-19 and the merging of Showtime/Paramount+. Both events made the public more aware and able to access the show.

Now more than ever, we need something that isn't afraid to show queer people as we are, not as the media and those outside our community paint us. We need to feel like there is a media format that understands what we are like when we are with our closest friends. We say things that, in today's world, would probably get us canceled, and we judge those around us and have very biased opinions about certain people.

Brian Kinney's unapologetic "I am who I am and fuck anyone who tries to change me" attitude is the exact level of strength and courage we wished more people right now had. His biased, but not illogical, opinion of non-queers needs to be loud. It needs to be shouted from the rooftops because we now live in a world where we are hated just for existing as we are.

Even our rights that had been given to us just a decade ago are being stripped away from us once more. So, the fight for love and equality continues, and the hope that Queer as Folk gives us is important now more than ever.

So, people are seeking this story out and are begging others in the world to watch it and understand that we have always been here. We've always been these flawed but loving characters. We deserve to be heard.

In 2022, Peacock tried its best to create a redo of the series but failed miserably. But why? If we are desperately looking for queer media that is gritty, unapologetic, and real, then why didn't we latch onto this latest iteration?

The answer is simple. This new version was great at creating a more diverse image of the characters created for the Showtime series but failed to understand that recreating things almost note for note with entirely new characters isn't what we want.

It would've been better if the show stuck to broad-stroke themes and made these characters and their experiences their own. Queer today is different than queer in the early 2000s, just like queer in the 2000s was different than queer in the 1980s. Trying to put queer 2000s stories into a queer 2020s world isn't going to work.

We need to embrace this resurgence of Queer as Folk (2000) and give it the love and attention it should've always had. Perhaps finally giving its rightful due in the eyes of the history of queer media. Does it have its issues as the world changes? Absolutely, but we also can't sit here and deny the insane level of impact this show had on the queer media we now know and love.

We wouldn't have casually queer shows like Schitt's Creek, Heartstopper, and Our Flag Means Death if Queer as Folk hadn't broken down our walls and made us realize that we can demand stories for queer people by queer people.

[mariacallous]

Less than three months after Apple quietly debuted a tool for publishers to opt out of its AI training, a number of prominent news outlets and social platforms have taken the company up on it.

WIRED can confirm that Facebook, Instagram, Craigslist, Tumblr, The New York Times, The Financial Times, The Atlantic, Vox Media, the USA Today network, and WIRED’s parent company, Condé Nast, are among the many organizations opting to exclude their data from Apple’s AI training. The cold reception reflects a significant shift in both the perception and use of the robotic crawlers that have trawled the web for decades. Now that these bots play a key role in collecting AI training data, they’ve become a conflict zone over intellectual property and the future of the web.

This new tool, Applebot-Extended, is an extension to Apple’s web-crawling bot that specifically lets website owners tell Apple not to use their data for AI training. (Apple calls this “controlling data usage” in a blog post explaining how it works.) The original Applebot, announced in 2015, initially crawled the internet to power Apple’s search products like Siri and Spotlight. Recently, though, Applebot’s purpose has expanded: The data it collects can also be used to train the foundational models Apple created for its AI efforts.

Applebot-Extended is a way to respect publishers' rights, says Apple spokesperson Nadine Haija. It doesn’t actually stop the original Applebot from crawling the website—which would then impact how that website’s content appeared in Apple search products—but instead prevents that data from being used to train Apple's large language models and other generative AI projects. It is, in essence, a bot to customize how another bot works.

Publishers can block Applebot-Extended by updating a text file on their websites known as the Robots Exclusion Protocol, or robots.txt. This file has governed how bots go about scraping the web for decades—and like the bots themselves, it is now at the center of a larger fight over how AI gets trained. Many publishers have already updated their robots.txt files to block AI bots from OpenAI, Anthropic, and other major AI players.

Robots.txt allows website owners to block or permit bots on a case-by-case basis. While there’s no legal obligation for bots to adhere to what the text file says, compliance is a long-standing norm. (A norm that is sometimes ignored: Earlier this year, a WIRED investigation revealed that the AI startup Perplexity was ignoring robots.txt and surreptitiously scraping websites.)

Applebot-Extended is so new that relatively few websites block it yet. Ontario, Canada–based AI-detection startup Originality AI analyzed a sampling of 1,000 high-traffic websites last week and found that approximately 7 percent—predominantly news and media outlets—were blocking Applebot-Extended. This week, the AI agent watchdog service Dark Visitors ran its own analysis of another sampling of 1,000 high-traffic websites, finding that approximately 6 percent had the bot blocked. Taken together, these efforts suggest that the vast majority of website owners either don’t object to Apple’s AI training practices are simply unaware of the option to block Applebot-Extended.

In a separate analysis conducted this week, data journalist Ben Welsh found that just over a quarter of the news websites he surveyed (294 of 1,167 primarily English-language, US-based publications) are blocking Applebot-Extended. In comparison, Welsh found that 53 percent of the news websites in his sample block OpenAI’s bot. Google introduced its own AI-specific bot, Google-Extended, last September; it’s blocked by nearly 43 percent of those sites, a sign that Applebot-Extended may still be under the radar. As Welsh tells WIRED, though, the number has been “gradually moving” upward since he started looking.

Welsh has an ongoing project monitoring how news outlets approach major AI agents. “A bit of a divide has emerged among news publishers about whether or not they want to block these bots,” he says. “I don't have the answer to why every news organization made its decision. Obviously, we can read about many of them making licensing deals, where they're being paid in exchange for letting the bots in—maybe that's a factor.”

Last year, The New York Times reported that Apple was attempting to strike AI deals with publishers. Since then, competitors like OpenAI and Perplexity have announced partnerships with a variety of news outlets, social platforms, and other popular websites. “A lot of the largest publishers in the world are clearly taking a strategic approach,” says Originality AI founder Jon Gillham. “I think in some cases, there's a business strategy involved—like, withholding the data until a partnership agreement is in place.”

There is some evidence supporting Gillham’s theory. For example, Condé Nast websites used to block OpenAI’s web crawlers. After the company announced a partnership with OpenAI last week, it unblocked the company’s bots. (Condé Nast declined to comment on the record for this story.) Meanwhile, Buzzfeed spokesperson Juliana Clifton told WIRED that the company, which currently blocks Applebot-Extended, puts every AI web-crawling bot it can identify on its block list unless its owner has entered into a partnership—typically paid—with the company, which also owns the Huffington Post.

Because robots.txt needs to be edited manually, and there are so many new AI agents debuting, it can be difficult to keep an up-to-date block list. “People just don’t know what to block,” says Dark Visitors founder Gavin King. Dark Visitors offers a freemium service that automatically updates a client site’s robots.txt, and King says publishers make up a big portion of his clients because of copyright concerns.

Robots.txt might seem like the arcane territory of webmasters—but given its outsize importance to digital publishers in the AI age, it is now the domain of media executives. WIRED has learned that two CEOs from major media companies directly decide which bots to block.

Some outlets have explicitly noted that they block AI scraping tools because they do not currently have partnerships with their owners. “We’re blocking Applebot-Extended across all of Vox Media’s properties, as we have done with many other AI scraping tools when we don’t have a commercial agreement with the other party,” says Lauren Starke, Vox Media’s senior vice president of communications. “We believe in protecting the value of our published work.”

Others will only describe their reasoning in vague—but blunt!—terms. “The team determined, at this point in time, there was no value in allowing Applebot-Extended access to our content,” says Gannett chief communications officer Lark-Marie Antón.

Meanwhile, The New York Times, which is suing OpenAI over copyright infringement, is critical of the opt-out nature of Applebot-Extended and its ilk. “As the law and The Times' own terms of service make clear, scraping or using our content for commercial purposes is prohibited without our prior written permission,” says NYT director of external communications Charlie Stadtlander, noting that the Times will keep adding unauthorized bots to its block list as it finds them. “Importantly, copyright law still applies whether or not technical blocking measures are in place. Theft of copyrighted material is not something content owners need to opt out of.”

It’s unclear whether Apple is any closer to closing deals with publishers. If or when it does, though, the consequences of any data licensing or sharing arrangements may be visible in robots.txt files even before they are publicly announced.

“I find it fascinating that one of the most consequential technologies of our era is being developed, and the battle for its training data is playing out on this really obscure text file, in public for us all to see,” says Gillham.

[michaelespositostatenisland]

Michael Esposito Staten Island - Influencer Marketing Strategies for Explosive Brand Influence and Business Growth

The advent of the digital age has introduced a fresh phase of consumer behavior. Gone are the days of blind trust in traditional advertising. Today's savvy audiences crave authenticity, connection, and recommendations from trusted voices. This is where influencer marketing steps onto the stage, offering a potent blend of brand storytelling and audience engagement. Michael Esposito Staten Island - Mastering Influencer Marketing for Effective Brand Influence demonstrates how this approach can be leveraged to achieve remarkable results.

However, navigating the vast influencer landscape can feel like wandering through a social media jungle. Fear not, intrepid marketer! By wielding the following strategies, you can craft an influencer marketing campaign that ignites brand influence and propels your business towards exponential growth.

Know Your Audience: Precision Over Popularity

The initial step involves discarding the mindset that favors larger sizes as inherently better. Despite the substantial followings of mega-influencers, their ability to reach a specific audience may not be as effective as that of carefully chosen micro-influencers. Research conducted by Socialbakers demonstrates that micro-influencers (typically with 10,000 to 50,000 followers) frequently achieve engagement rates that surpass those of mega-influencers by sixfold. Here's why:

Niche Expertise: Micro-influencers tend to cultivate deep connections with their followers, fostering a sense of community and trust built around a specific niche. Partnering with micro-influencers within your target demographic allows you to tap into a highly engaged audience already receptive to your brand message.

Authentic Advocacy: Forget robotic endorsements. Micro-influencers are often passionate about the industries they represent, making their content feel genuine and relatable. This authenticity resonates with audiences who yearn for real connections and honest recommendations.

Embrace the Power of Storytelling: Content is King (and Queen)

Effective influencer marketing goes beyond product placement. It's about weaving brand narratives into the fabric of the influencer's content. Here's how to unlock the power of storytelling:

Collaborative Content Creation: Don't dictate; collaborate. Work with influencers to understand their content style and create campaigns that feel organic within their feed. This ensures brand messaging resonates seamlessly without compromising the influencer's voice or authenticity.

Interactive Experiences: Move beyond static images. Leverage the power of interactive formats like live streams, Q&A sessions, and interactive polls to foster real-time engagement with your target audience. Encourage user-generated content (UGC) that furthers the brand narrative and fosters a sense of community around your brand.

Data-Driven Content Strategy: Don't be afraid to experiment. Track what resonates best with your target audience by analyzing engagement metrics across different content formats. Use this data to refine your influencer selection process and create future content that sparks conversations and drives action.

Harness the Power of Social Listening: Identify Your Brand Advocates

Social listening tools offer a goldmine of insights to identify potential influencer partners. These platforms allow you to monitor conversations within your industry and identify individuals who are already organically discussing products or services relevant to your brand. Look for voices generating positive buzz and engaging their audience with informative and engaging content. This approach allows you to:

Discover Untapped Gems: Unearth passionate advocates who may not yet be on your radar. These individuals already possess brand affinity and their genuine enthusiasm has the power to resonate deeply with your target audience.

Understand Influencer Performance: Analyze the types of content and messaging that resonate with audiences within your target demographic. This can help you curate collaborations that are more likely to generate positive sentiment and drive conversions.

Measure and Adapt: Refining Your Influencer Marketing Strategy

Don't think of an influencer marketing campaign as a one-shot deal. It's more like a strategic partnership that needs continuous optimization. Track key metrics across all platforms, including:

Engagement Rates: Measure likes, comments, shares, and saves to gauge audience interaction with the influencer's content.

Website Traffic: Track how many visitors are directed to your website through the influencer's channels.

Conversion Rates: Analyze how many visitors take action on your website, such as making a purchase or signing up for a newsletter.

By analyzing these metrics, you can:

Refine Influencer Selection: Identify influencers who consistently deliver the strongest results for your brand.

Optimize Content Strategy: Learn what types of content resonate most with your target audience.

Adapt Campaign Goals: Refine your goals based on the campaign's performance and adjust your strategy for future collaborations.

Finally, influencer marketing stands as a formidable strategy for brands to cultivate brand influence and drive business growth in the digital age. By embracing effective strategies, nurturing authentic partnerships, and adapting to evolving trends and technologies, brands can harness the full potential of influencer marketing to propel their influence and achieve sustained business growth. Michael Esposito Staten Island: Harnessing Influencer Marketing for Business Growth provides valuable insights into how brands can successfully leverage this approach. As the influencer marketing landscape continues to evolve, staying abreast of emerging strategies and technological advancements will be pivotal for brands aiming to elevate their influence and drive exponential business growth.

In summary, influencer marketing strategies play a pivotal role in shaping brand influence and driving business growth, offering brands a compelling avenue to resonate with their audience, foster credibility, and achieve sustained success in the competitive digital landscape.

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Chapter 21: Choices

A/N: This has taken me a while and I’m sorry! Just been stirring myself in a little spiralling pot of self hatred. You know, the usual. Girlrotting.

Warnings: Mentions of death, stress, panic, feelings, ND behaviour, and Palpatine.

Word Count: 10.5k+ (my finger slipped.)

Masterlist

Tagging: @idoubleswearimawriter @ravenclawbitch426 @dreamqueenkala @moon-wrecked

The entire ship was quiet. Occasionally someone would attempt to get some sleep but there was a quiet restlessness that resided in all them. Even Omega was affected as she tried to meditate in her room. You mainly stayed in your place on the floor, shifting when you got too uncomfortable or when Wrecker took Gonky to exercise his muscles. Not much conversation was had, Echo and Tech discussed Rex’s flight plan while Hunter brooded about the planet they were heading to.

His knife was singing, flipping through the air even though his eyes were trained on a spot on the floor. You had geared up in your armour, feeling more unsettled the closer you got to Coruscant. Tech stayed in the cockpit, going over the intel Rex had sent through and working out every possible outcome he could. What happened between you burned at the forefront of your mind, but now wasn’t the time to confront it.

You looked up as Hunter and Echo silently swapped places, you knew they had come to an unspoken agreement to watch you. He settled in the seat, staring up at the screen with those light honey coloured eyes. “Are you worried?” You asked, making him turn round. “About going back?”

“No. Strategically it makes sense and we should be able to slip under their radar because to the Empire, we don’t exist anymore.”

“With the ship's signature scrambled as well they will not recognise us at all,” Tech announced his arrival into the conversation as he usually did. “I am confident this mission will be a success.”

“Well, we don’t know where Rex has us extracting this data from,” Echo pointed out, motioning with his scomp. “Don’t get too cocky until we know more details.”

“I am not cocky,” Tech responded quickly as he nudged his goggles. “I am sure in our abilities and running the statistics with previous data of extraction missions, I would say we have a very high chance of success.”

“Yeah, we’ve done this before,” Wrecker agreed.

The proximity warnings went off and Hunter pulled the ship from hyperspace before moving to let Tech in the pilot's seat. You followed Omega into the cockpit, getting a look at the planet you’d heard so much about and never seen.

At first the light pattern looked like a scrawling mess, then you saw it was in fact obscured by cloud cover. The darker side of the planet was lit up like the streets of Ord Mantell during a festival. You’d never seen so much life below, so many people crowded all on one planet.

Ships filled the sky, flying to and away from the surface, making their way past the orbiting Venators. Hunter was on high alert, his brow dipping down as he watched the planet get closer through the canopy. Really he didn’t want to be here, or bring you and Omega to somewhere he knew was dangerous for all of you. Automatically you reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder and he acknowledged it with a small nod.

The day was bright, the clouds white and fluffy with the sky a rich blue that you couldn’t help but admire as Tech guided the ship through the tall buildings. Omega was just as enamoured, leaning forward to try and see everything at once with small gasps. She’d never seen a planet like this before. Soon the taller buildings dropped away and Tech followed the service lines to a wide hole in the ground. This led to the lower levels. You watched the sides swallow up the daylight, only artificial light existed down here in the depths of the planet and it gave you a sense of foreboding.

Eventually the ship was set down in the dark, away from everything else on an empty platform. You grabbed your helmet, sticking close to Hunter as he descended the ramp. The air was weirdly cold down here, echoes of ships passing unseen could be heard and your footsteps rang out louder than they should. The Marauder powered down and a door opened ahead with two figures emerging.

One you recognised instantly even without his armour or poncho. Rex stepped forward, wearing a blue outfit that made him look relaxed. His sense of calm washed over you, pulling you in and he gave you a nod which you returned.

“Glad you made it,” he addressed the group. “This is Senator Riyo Chuchi.” Everyone's attention settled on the Pantoran. She had blue skin which reminded you of the bright sky up top, large golden eyes that roamed over the group, with gold markings that stood out on her cheeks. Her hair was a glorious pastel purple; it reminded you of the inside of your purple meiloorun from that day at the festival. “These are the special clones I told you about and their medic.”

“Hello!” You smiled a little at Omega’s instant friendliness.

“Thank you for coming,” the Senator said. Her voice was soft and mellow, a calming tone that you wanted recorded to play in your ears constantly.

“Why are we here, Captain?” Hunter wanted this to be over quickly and he made that clear. Rex shared a look with Riyo and then pointed over his shoulder.

“Inside. There’s something I want you to see.” You followed the boys, pausing at the doorway and looking out into the dark.

“Is…everything all right?” It was the first time Tech had spoken to you. His eyes cast out into the gloom before he looked at you with a slight tilt to his head.

“Yeah, fine.” He seemed satisfied and walked off but you looked back out, not liking the way your skin prickled or how your senses were sparking with something. It felt like you were being watched but by who, or what. You had no idea.

It looked like a stasis chamber but all it did was remind you of your confinement. Rex opened the panel on the top and you came face to face with another clone. Tendrils of your nightmares ensnared you, squeezing on your throat, constricting your chest and you took a step back in horror. There was a void in the box, a silence that nothing could break and it screamed at you.

“He’s an assassin,” Rex clarified to the group. “His identifying numbers been wiped.”

“I was not aware that was possible.” Tech seemed surprised by the information.

“Who was his target?” Hunter asked.

“A clone contact of mine named Slip,” Rex answered heavily. “He said he was in danger. I came to Coruscant to get him out, but the assassin got to him first. Nearly got the Senator too.”

“Why would a clone be targeting another clone or a Senator?” Echo frowned. He knew there was more at work here than what they were seeing.

“To silence us,” Chuchi spoke up. “Admiral Rampart has the entire Senate believing Kamino was lost to a cataclysmic storm.” You felt the boys all tense up but Omega was openly angry as her hands balled into fists. “Slip witnessed the truth. I wanted him to testify to Ramparts crimes.”

“We did this.”

“We were following orders.”

“But we still did it. Our homeworld, destroyed because of us.”

“Good soldiers follow orders…”

The memory was fleeting but it made you suck in a breath as you stared at the dead clone. The pieces were coming together but still the gap yawned widely. You knew what was coming, and yet, didn’t know. It scared the living stars out of you.

Your visions were carrying more and more weight.

“We were there too, Senator.” Echo told her. “I can be your witness.” Your heart was pounding as you watched the discussion between the boys, hating how much this felt like an actual nightmare. Closing your eyes you hoped to wake up from it all, but the boys kept talking.

“Where’s the Venator now?” Wrecker queried loudly, his gruff voice pulling you back into the room.

“Being retrofitted at the Imperial shipyard right here on Coruscant,” Rex explained. “Lots of security, but I know a way in.”

“Rampart’s Defence Recruitment Bill goes to a vote tomorrow. We must prove his crimes before it passes.” Riyo looked up at Rex. “I’ll return to the Senate and garner support where I can.”

“You could still be in danger,” Rex pointed out but you could already see she wasn’t going to back down.

“Then I must be on the right track,” she told him grimly.

“I can go with her and keep an eye out,” Omega piped up, looking round at her brothers.

“You can’t enter the Senate district without an Imperial security clearance,” Chuchi told her.

“That will not be a problem,” Tech added quickly.

“And Stitch…” you looked up to find everyone staring, fingers curled nervously around the base of your helmet as you concentrated on Rex who was coming towards you. “I want to ask you something.” He carried on and you had no choice but to follow him to a shadowy part of the workshop. You looked over his shoulder to see Tech watching, Hunter had his characteristic cross armed stance, but he was scowling as he listened.

“I’m not sure what I can do,” you said quietly to Rex.

“I don’t need you for this mission,” he responded almost apologetically. “But, uh…I need you for afterwards.”

“Afterwards?” You didn’t think the boys were staying, you could sense Hunter’s irritation and constant worry about being here as it was. No way would they stay. “You’re asking me to stay behind?” Hunter jerked in your peripheral, his arms uncrossing as he closed his eyes for a moment. He was definitely listening.

“It’s a big ask,” Rex hurried as your entire body shifted, shrinking away from him and your eyes couldn’t rest on anything as the panic began to take hold. “I wouldn’t be asking it if I wasn’t desperate. I need your help, Stitch.” His eyes were wide, a hand came up to brush over his scalp in an almost nervous gesture. He was holding back, you could feel him wanting to say more.

“I can’t…” your brain was confused, loud thoughts spewing forth at the idea of not being with the boys, not being near Tech. The room swam before you, shelves bending as the shadows stalked you like wild animals. Everything was terrifying here and you wanted to run back out to the Marauder and hide next to Gonky. It was one thing to be left on Ord Mantell where it was safe, completely another to be abandoned in the very centre of the galaxy.

“I can’t say much, right now. I’m sorry for that. Not until this mission is done and then I can explain more.” He was gazing at you, making your breath catch as you caught the pleading light in those eyes you knew so well. If it wasn’t for his hair he’d look exactly like Jango and that made part of you want to lean in his direction, but there was something in you that wanted to run for the deep space. The longer you were here the more this entire planet made your skin crawl. “Think about it.” You heard Rex say, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as disappointment lay on his shoulders.

Your legs wouldn’t move. Your insides were quivering and you felt the pressure of a panic attack as it wrapped tightly round your lungs. Closing your eyes you tried to find that centre of peace but there was only blackness and twisted chaos…

“Stitch.” A tear escaped when you opened your eyes, looking into those concerned brown eyes that you adored so much. Worry lined Tech’s face and you automatically reached out. Hesitation made it so your motion didn’t complete but he saw and he took a moment to respond. Flexing his own hand in your direction and gently taking your limp fingers in his grip.

You were on the verge of shattering, breath quickening to match the pace of your heart as he stepped closer. You couldn’t stop looking at him, drinking him in as he came so close to you. “Breathe.” Yes, breathe. His eyes watched your lips, darting back to your eyes and you saw a slight blush creep across his cheeks. His hand was warm in yours, even bleeding through the gloves the same as his calmness was slowly beating through your fear. You felt pressure on your wrist, right at your pulse point, his fingers feeling the throb of your body and making sure you were calming down.

“H-he wants me to stay,” you whispered quickly. “He wants me to stay behind when you leave and I don’t know if I can do that, Tech.” He frowned at your words, clearly trying to sort out why Rex would need you to stay behind, processing what that meant.

“Rex would not ask lightly,” he told you slowly.

“Tech…” the tears were coming faster now and your nervous gaze fell on the others as they crowded round the Captain. They needed to move and you were holding things up. “You should go.” Drawing your hand away from him you used it to wipe your face. You pulled everything back inside, sucking it into the black hole of your soul and putting on a mask. They had a job to do and they needed to go now.

Tech didn’t say anything else, he stood there as though he wanted to but then he was turning and joining the others; only to be replaced by Omega.

“We’re going with the Senator!” She gushed happily. “Come on!” She dragged you back to the middle where Tech was already programming the clearance you both needed to enter the Senate District.

“These will get you in and out of the building,” Tech explained. “Omega will be passing as a child on Senator Chuchi’s staff and Stitch will be passing as a guard.”

“I am not a Pantoran,” you blurted out.

“Some of my guards were killed when Rex found me and I would need quick replacements,” the Senator explained kindly. “No one will take any notice that I have hired you, even if they don’t know the reason why.”

“Trained her myself,” Hunter announced, catching your eye, giving a slight nod and a smile. “She’ll pass as a guard easily.” If only you felt that confident in yourself.

“You will need to change,” Riyo gestured to an empty set of armour that sat abandoned on a storage crate. You felt the wave of sadness as she lowered her eyes when Rex picked it up.

“I’ll get changed in the ship.” The material was light and slippy in your hands, it held none of the rigidity that your armour did and you tried to get it to sit right.

Eventually you heard a knock on the door and you told them to come in with an exasperated cry. To your surprise it was Tech who entered, shifting his goggles a little anxiously as he looked you over.

“Senator Chuchi is wondering if you are ready.” He closed the cockpit door behind him and stepped towards you.

“I don’t really know where this goes,” you admitted holding up what looked like a ceremonial blaster holder belt with an extra bit attached. “There’s a cape, an actual cape, Tech.” You spun on the spot grabbing at the maroon material. “How is this…I wish I could wear my armour.” You halted when you felt Tech’s hands rest on your shoulders. The sudden contact had you flinching a little and he lifted the pressure.

“If you stand still, I can correct it,” he commanded quietly. A few moments of silence passed, only the sound of your pulse throbbing filled your ears and you felt the urge to speak.

“Do you know much about Pantorans?” You asked, hoping to distract yourself as Tech stood close, his fingers settling the fabric and gliding over your arms.

“Near-humans from the moon Pantora. The tattoos they wear are a status symbol or family affiliation and based on ancient Pantoran texts. They have an extraordinary resilience to cold temperatures and their architecture is something extraordinary.” You zoned out to his voice, letting him soothe you as he explained in a low tone. He pulled the belt round your middle, checking with his fingers that it wasn’t too tight and you inhaled sharply at the sensation.

He withdrew, looking at you with wide eyes as you stared at each other. “Did I do something?”

“No…I just…” you were gazing at each other, the sound of your intense breaths the only noise in the cockpit. “Where does this go?” You asked, grabbing the last bit that needed attaching.

“Here.” Tech took the strap from you, quickly fastening it under your chin, concentration furrowing his brow as he tried to get it right.

“Tech…?”

“Yes?”

“A-about earlier…”

“Which moment earlier?” Of course he’d need clarification and you suddenly felt sweaty in your new uniform.

“The, um, when I…” you pointed uselessly at his face over his arm and he gave a curt nod.

“Ah.” He took a step back and your chin lowered. You were now fully dressed in the garb of a Pantoran Guard and you’d never felt so uncomfortable before.

“I feel we need to talk about it,” you breathed. Twisting your fingers and shuddering at the sensation of the new gloves. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it.” Tech was so still and you frowned a little desperately, wishing he would say something to you. “I get it i-if you don’t feel the same.”

“I cannot measure my feelings against yours,” he suddenly said. “I do not know exactly what you are feeling but I can attempt to tell you mine.” His gaze cast hopelessly around, fingers nudging his goggles and you heard him clear his throat.

“I have to admit, I have no experience with this and nothing to compare it to. A situation such as this, it is something strategy cannot help me with.” You waited for him to continue, your entire heart in your mouth. “I have noticed changes when you are around. Here.” He placed a hand over his chestplate, spreading his fingers over his heart and your eyes widened. “When you, uh…” you’d never heard Tech falter for as long as you’d known him, so to hear it now made your whole body miss a beat. His feet shuffled and you watched his fingers curl in agitation. “Touching is not something you seek out,” he restarted in a stronger voice. “And I was surprised—when you—when it…happened.”

You felt a rush of warmth, it pillowed around you and made the sensations in your body stronger. Your chest ached as you listened to him continue to try and untangle his thoughts and translate them into words. That’s when you realised it wasn’t your feelings that were heightening, you were reacting to his and it stole the breath from your lungs making you gasp.

“Tech,” his long winded explanation came to a sudden halt. “You don’t have to make sense of it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “What’s here,” his eyes watched your fist tap on your own chest. “Cannot be explained with words.” He seemed to deflate with relief and you both stood there for a moment.

“What do we do now?” Tech asked in such a matter of fact tone you almost giggled. “I recognise I do not process, emotions the way others do and it can be frustrating when what I say is interpreted incorrectly, or, as if I do not care.” He clamped his mouth shut and you reached for his hand.

“It’s ok.” His eyes were wide, you could see his neck tensing as he turned to look at you. “Would…would you like to try it again?” His fingers tightened on your hand and you saw him swallow harshly, using his free middle finger to push up his goggles even though they were already sat perfectly.

“Y-yes.” A shiver ran down your spine at his faint stutter and you stepped closer, bumping into his chest plate but he didn’t move away. He was watching you with that heated caramel gaze, his eyes almost crossing the closer you got and you smiled. Drifting your nose against his you moved and kissed him on the cheek first, letting your lips linger against his skin as you soaked him in.

He pressed his face against yours, his head slowly turning until your foreheads were pressed together. “This is called a Keldabe Kiss,” he murmured.

“Oh?” His eyes were shut now and his breath brushed over your cheeks, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder.

“Also known as a kov’nyn or mirshmure’cya…” Before he could say anymore you pressed your lips against his, Tech’s breath expelled quietly from his nose and you felt his hand slide along your shoulder and up your neck, to find a resting place against your warm cheek. Neither of you moved away, drinking in the sensations of one another, brushing your lips together and enjoying the way he made your soul soar. In this moment you felt you could take on anything, because nothing else mattered; only Tech and the way he was holding you so preciously.

You broke the kiss, smiling a little when he leaned forward to chase your lips before opening his eyes with a slightly dazed expression. “I should go. They’re waiting for me,” you murmured just as you felt someone on the ramp of the ship.

“Stitch? Tech?” You squeezed his hand and then let go, turning to grab the guard's helmet off the console.

“I’m ready,” you called to Hunter as the door opened.

“What, uh, what’s taking so long?” He cast a curious glance at Tech who was still standing in the same place and hadn’t acknowledged his brother at all.

“I couldn’t work out this belt. I’m ready now. Is the Senator ready?” You were trying to act normal, to keep the waver out of your voice with a breezy tone.

“Yeah, she’s waiting with Omega.” His gaze narrowed and he spoke deliberately slowly as though he was trying to figure out something.

“Be careful.” You blurted out, getting a soft smile off Hunter and an abrupt nod off Tech. “I’d rather not use my skills on Coruscant and with none of my equipment.”

“We’ll be fine,” Hunter answered. “We’ll come back for you after the outcome of the Recruitment Bill.” You looked at them one last time, your hand on the edge of the door and you tapped it once before leaving the ship completely.

Tech inhaled quickly and Hunter turned to look at his brother with a raised eyebrow. “How did you know she needed help with the uniform?”

Tech shrugged, “She was taking too long.”

“Did you talk?”

“Talk about what?” Tech refused to look at Hunter, gathering up your armour and heading out of the ship with it, leaving Hunter no choice but to follow.

“She told me what happened.” Tech paused, watching you talking to the Senator through the open door, your hand held Omega’s as you took some final instruction and then you were gone. The feel of you lingered, the warmth of your delicate touch and the scent of your hair was something he’d never let go.

Hunter placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, taking your helmet in his hand as he looked down at it. He huffed lightly at the hidden markings, tilting it so their shadows showed in the thrown light. He remembered Tech etching them out and applying the paint himself, so many small actions that spoke volumes. “You think, she’s going to stay and help Rex?”

“Stitch has her own path to follow. As does Echo.”

“Echo?” Hunter drew back slightly, and wondered what insight Tech had that he didn’t. Or maybe he just didn’t want to see it. “Come on. We need to go over the service tunnel schematics before we leave.”

The Senate building was huge. You walked behind the Senator as she talked to Omega, your senses stretched to the maximum, eyes wide under the low visor. People dressed in all sorts of finery walked the halls, all with guards or other Senators. You could sense feelings of elation, waves of sorrow and down right anger until that was all brushed away by smugness. It made your skin feel like it was being wrapped in something slimy and you shivered in your new clothes. The object of such a disgusting feeling was heading towards you, a spark of surprise shocked you to watch him closely.

“Senator Chuchi.” His voice sounded as slithering and as obnoxious as he looked. You had to refrain from grabbing Omega and pulling her away from the man.

“You seem surprised to see me, Admiral.” Alive. Her voice was clipped but still managed to hold her soft tone. This was the man who was trying to phase out the clones, this was who had destroyed Kamino. This was the man who could make your nightmares, reality.

“Not at all. I was just making preparations for tomorrow's vote,” as he spoke his eyes flickered over Omega and then you. His aloofness not dropping for a second as he looked down on Riyo.

“Indeed. I am looking forward to it,” the Senator responded. Rampart’s attention wandered somewhere else, a welcome distraction before the situation got any worse.

“If you’ll excuse me.” She was already moving, dismissing him as much as he dismissed her. You carried on following the Senator, refusing to look back at Rampart as you felt his frustration blend into annoyance. Your fingers flexed when you came to a stop near a door, looking up and down the corridor and finding it clear. Omega followed Chuchi faithfully, her curious gaze drinking in every sight she could see.

“This is where the Senate gathers to discuss many pressing issues and legislation.” You took your cues from the other guard and stood by the door. He’d given a brief rundown on what was expected of you and then hadn’t spoken a word since. You could hear Chuchi talking to Omega but your attention was drawn by an astromech as it rolled towards you. The droid paused by the door, beeping out a message and then carrying on its way.

“What was that?” Omega asked.

“A message.” Chuchi told her. “Can you keep a secret?” Omega nodded and you fell into step with them. “Come on, he’s waiting.”

Darkness fell on Coruscant. The view from Senator Chuchi’s state rooms was really something. Omega plastered her face against the transparisteel as she stared out at the lights gradually coming on.

“Looks amazing,” she murmured. “So pretty. I’ve read about Coruscant but to see it with my own eyes…do you think it’s pretty?” She turned to look up at you. It really was pretty, the light created a picture of vibrancy as they lit up the night, the tall building even blending in with the stars themselves.

“Yes.” Even here, you were still nervous. In the warmth of the Senator’s quarters you still managed to find a chill that layered on your bones, making you tremble erratically. You couldn’t put your finger on what the issue was, it didn’t have a name, or a face, just a looming nothing that held the weight of everything.

“Are you alright?” Now you smiled, putting a hand on Omega’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure her and to draw some calmness from her.

“Yes. I’ve never met a Kaminoan before.”

“Oh! Well I haven’t met this one but the rest were...” She paused and seemed to struggle for anything to say. So she shrugged and wandered over to join Riyo on the large sofa in the middle of the room. You’d both been fed a decent meal and watered with some fruit wine you didn’t know the name of. It was so sweet it set your teeth on edge, so you didn’t finish the glass.

The doors opened to reveal two of Riyo’s guards and a tall figure that must be Senator Burtoni. You’d studied a lot of different anatomies in your time as a medical student, but Kaminoans had never existed in your Academy’s database so you had no idea what to expect.

She was tall, with willowy arms and legs. Her fingers were long and expressive, every move she made reminded you of wind through the trees and her voice was just light and airy. She was pale, a pearly white in the low light and her eyes glowed like large jewels. You stayed near the window, hands behind your back so you could fidget underneath the cape you were still wearing.

“Senator Burtoni. Thank you for coming.”

“Are armed guards really necessary?” Chuchi dismissed them and the doors closed behind them with a soft shnnkk.

“There is a matter I must discuss with you.” You admired her boldness, the shorter Senator almost squaring up to the Kaminoan as though she expected some resistance. Halle eyed Omega up and then you. Her force presence was so extraordinarily alien, you couldn’t pick apart what she was feeling. Did she recognise Omega for what she was, or was Halle so far detached from her people by being on Coruscant she didn’t know what a female clone would look like?

Seeing not much to interest her she walked over to a chair. “Then speak.”

“Tell me about the missing Senate appropriation funds that were earmarked for operations on Kamino.” You didn’t think Riyo was going to go straight in, but with darkness falling, time was running out. You turned back to look out the window, your mind on the boys and hoping they were all right.

Your thoughts were loud, replaying Rex and his request. You didn’t have a wide skill set, only medical skills were of any note. You knew roughly his operation was helping other clones get out from the clutches of the Empire…but why did he need you specifically? Then there were your feelings for Tech.

The pair of you had barely scratched the surface on what was between you, now you’d established there actually was something between you. Expelling a silent sigh you rubbed your fingertips across your forehead and forced yourself to pay attention to the conversation behind you.

“You’re a fool to bring me here,” Halle chastised Riyo. “Do you know what happens when you dig around where you shouldn’t?”

“Your people deserve to—,” Riyo started to speak but the Kaminoan shut her down immediately.

“My people are gone!” She snapped. “The few remaining Kaminoans scattered throughout the galaxy are of no importance to me, and therefore, not my concern.”

“How can you not care about what happened to Kamino?” Omega spoke up and your breath hitched at the sadness and fury that swept from her like a wave through the room. You tried not to show you were affected, keeping your expression neutral as you watched the conversation before you.

“Why do you care, child?” Halle sneered and your assumption was proven right, she didn’t know about Omega.

“Because, I’m a clone too. It was my home. I was there, I saw the Empire destroy everything and I’m angry.” Omega sniffed glaring at the Kaminoan as her emotions stormed through her. Not only the sorrow of the loss but the confusion of it all. Everyone forgot she was just a child, trying to process everything she’d experienced and still not finding any answers. “What they did, it’s not right.” Her emotions simmered around her, so much more profound than her brothers because they were trained to not dwell on things they couldn’t change. Only to move on and adapt, but Omega didn’t have that luxury.

“I suspected an attack was imminent,” Halle said. “Lama Su was arrogant. Too confident his clones were a necessity to the Empire. But none of us are.”

“Did Admiral Rampart divert the funds?” Chuchi asked, causing Halle to pause for a moment.

“You already know the answer. But yes.” Relief bloomed in the Pantoran, this is what she was chasing, this is what she needed.

“You must testify to that in front of the Senate tomorrow. He cannot continue to get away with what he’s done!” But the Kaminoan didn’t look convinced.

“Rampart is a mere cog in the machine and my word won’t do you any good, you need concrete proof.”

“I need both. And I’m running out of time,” Chuchi admitted.

The room you had been given was the most luxurious you’d ever stayed in. The mattress was too soft, the sheets too smooth, the pillows too fluffy. You hated it. This room wasn’t a bunk on the Marauder surrounded by the comfort that came from the Batch, or your room at the medbay that had been modified to within an inch of its life by Tech.

Sure it was nice, but it wasn’t…home. Omega was fast asleep beside you, her energy calm and barely rippling. You got up and stretched, heading to the window and staring outside. You couldn’t see the shipyards from here but you knew the boys would be carrying out their mission right now.

A headache was brewing between your eyes, one so deep seated you couldn’t rub it away. You shivered, drawing the blanket closer around you and still finding no extra warmth. It felt like that time you woke up from seeing Crosshair on that icy planet. Had that been real? The chill clung to your bones, it made you ache every time you moved and you shivered again.

Maybe you were coming down with something and that was the last thing everyone needed. A sick medic on their hands. Settling down in a chair you closed your eyes and tried to level out your breathing. Breathe in for four and out for four. Bowing your head over your hands as they fisted in the blanket, you tried to find that peace within, the elusive pool that beckoned only once in a while.

After a few minutes you gave up. Surveying the stretch of Coruscant through the window before getting up and leaving the room. It was never truly dark here, shadows were prominent on the floor and in the corners but you could easily see where you were going.

You found some drink, pouring a light coloured liquid into a glass and sniffing it. Your eyebrows flew up as your nose wrinkled at the same time. Smelled like something Tech would put in the Marauder fuel tank but you were going to risk it anyway. You downed the shot, pleasantly surprised by the fragrant taste only for it to burn all the way down your oesophagus and heat up the inside of your stomach. Putting the glass down you decided not to have another. Although, if you didn’t fall asleep soon you might have to.

Even with the alcohol lining your stomach you still felt cold. Such a strange cold as though it had tattooed itself onto the very inner parts of you, leaching everything out of you, leaving you stripped and exhausted. Sitting on the sofa you tried to wrap yourself up better, your lips quivering as you pressed your teeth together.

Then you heard them. Disembodied whispers that made you turn around. “Who’s there?” You breathed, knowing full well you were alone. The silence screamed at you, pressing on your ears, squeezing on your pulsing neck as you drowned against the throb of your headache.

Fleeing back to the bedroom you closed the door and backed up against the wall. You could sense it, seeping under the gap, slow and steady like a moving corpse as it clawed its way across the floor. The whispers came, light and airy until they tickled your skin, making your eyes close as you gasped in fear.

You slid down the wall, hunching on the floor as you tried to control your elevated breathing. You need to bring yourself back.

None of this was real, it wasn’t real.

“Stitch?” Your eyes flew open to see Omega sat up in the bed, her gaze barely there as she rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Why are you on the floor?” You looked around, the terrified feeling was trickling away and you managed a convincing smile.

“I just needed a moment. Want me to get back in?” Omega nodded and you moved, sliding in beside her and accepting the hug she gave you.

“Are they ok?” She suddenly asked quietly and you stiffened.

“I have no way of knowing.” She sighed, pulling herself closer into your side. Putting an arm around her, you forced yourself to relax, not used to having someone else in your sleep space. Your eyes were heavy but sleep still eluded you. Not unfamiliar territory. You listened to Omega’s breathing even out again and silently admired the way she was taking everything so well.

Brushing some blonde hair away from her forehead you felt a strange pang in your chest, a fierce protectiveness that took you by surprise. It wasn’t something you’d really explored before although it had always been there.

Once more you mulled over Rex’s request, torn between wanting to help and staying with Tech. A small tear ran down the side of your face and you quickly swept it up, sniffing lightly as you tried to keep yourself from falling apart. Everything was changing and you had no idea how to stop it.

You had barely got an hours sleep before you were back in your uniform and standing outside. Omega was sighing, tracing patterns on the wall as you both waited for the boys at the designated RV point. There was no one around except one of Chuchi’s guards waiting in a speeder round the corner.

Rubbing your face you tried not to let yourself think the worst and concentrated on the fact you’d heard from Rex and trusting he would have said something if the mission had gone wrong. But then again, maybe he wouldn’t. They would have called you, you’re the medic.

The sound of a speeder had adrenaline coursing through you and you couldn’t help but do a quick head count as they approached only to feel despair when you realised it was just Rex and Echo. There wasn’t time to ask where the others were as Rex leaned over the edge of the stopped speeder

“Get this to Senator Chuchi. Hurry!” He handed the case to Omega and the pair of you hurried to jump into your own speeder, the guard driving you back to the Senate building.

The Senate building wasn’t busy, everyone was in the chamber watching the current proceedings and getting ready to vote on this bill.

You took the stairs in haste, Omega’s hand slightly clammy in yours as you tugged her along behind you. Everything hinged on this, the boys and their fate was going to be decided today and it could shape the rest of everyone’s lives.

The guard showed you to General Organa’s pod and you leaned heavily on the wall to catch your breath as Omega handed him the case. You both slumped onto the floor, giggling softly because you’d done it! The proof was there and you were going to see Rampart get what he deserved.

Your chest was heaving as you peered out into the council chamber, watching the event unfold so you could recount it for the boys when you saw them. But the smile was soon wiped from your face as Senator Chuchi began to play the recording.

It manifested as a huge hologram in the middle of the Senate, easily viewable from all sides, making the domed facilities of Tipoca city unmistakable. It felt like you were there, rain spattered loudly in the recording you could imagine it pattering on your skin. The waves were in turmoil, churning roughly but not enough to hide the blue bolts shot from the ships.

Your jovial mood dissipated. Your heart beat strongly as emotions swirled inside you. The boys had witnessed this, Omega had witnessed this. You reached for her, feeling her hand grasp yours tightly as she tried to keep her tears at bay. Her pangs of pain were vibrant as she relived the horrendous moment.

Suddenly the recording was paused as voices began to rise around the chamber. You could feel the tension, the anger and the mood shifted dramatically, causing the hairs to rise on the back of your neck as a nameless chill to seep through your body. Alarms started blaring, piercing your skull like blaster shots and you moaned at the pain that spread through you.

“Stitch!” Omega whispered when you sagged against the wall, even the guard asked if you were all right and you removed the helmet trying to relieve the pressure that seemed to be pressing on you from all sides. “What’s happening?” Omega asked the guard in a hushed voice.

“The Emperor is coming,” he replied and you sensed fascination as well as a healthy dose of fear radiating from him. It beat on your senses, making you peer out between your fingers to watch the throne rise from the middle of the floor.

He was cloaked, his face hooded by the cowl and it added to his mysterious appearance. The hologram wavered, the picture of Rampart’s deception and lies flickered into nothing and for a moment there was only silence.

The Vice Chancellor spoke, his booming voice carrying easily around the room as he addressed the Senate. “It would appear that Senator Chuchi’s horrific assertions are correct. This unprovoked attack on Kamino was a cowardly act by Admiral Rampart to further his own personal agenda.” The voices of the Senate were nothing but echoing background noise to you. A continuous buzzing that filled your mind as you stared at the Emperor sitting quietly as he observed the reaction.

The chill in your body got worse. Your muscles twitching from the relentless icy touch, but you sweated in your uniform. You felt like he was staring at you, his sightless gaze heavy and unmovable. But that was stupid. He wouldn’t pick you out of all these thousands of people.

You were barely aware of Rampart being arrested or of Mas Amedda calling for order in the vast room. Your eyes were fixed on one point and one point only. As were everyone else’s when he stood to address the Senate for the first time.

“I am deeply troubled by this recent revelation.” The Emperor’s voice was like poison, black and oozing as it dripped into your ears with each word. The tremors that worked their way through your body made you feel like you were losing yourself. Every word he spoke added a weight to your load and soon your knees were attempting to buckle under the pressure. You knew, deep down, you knew what was coming.

“My gratitude to Senator Chuchi for exposing a rogue element within our ranks. Many lives have been lost, but I assure you, Admiral Rampart will face the consequences for his treachery. However, he did not act alone.”

“No!” You barely formed the word, your fingers shaking so badly as tears filled your eyes.

“Stitch, what’s wrong?” But Omega’s question was about to be answered. And not by you.

“The fact that the clones under his command so blindly followed orders, inflicting such carnage without hesitation, gives me pause.” Your breath was gasping as Palpatine’s words erased whatever shred of hope you had left. “Perhaps, it is time for a change. Now more than ever, building a strong galaxy requires protection and security. Due to the nefarious actions of Admiral Rampart and the immediacy of the bill on the floor today, it is my opinion that this legislation is our future.” Your body crumbled. Everything you’d been seeing was going to happen. The clones, their empty armour, the blood between your fingers, their dying cries…you hadn’t done enough to prevent this.

“You need to leave!” The guard gripped your arm and helped you stand. “Take the speeder, go!” The world was spinning, the only thing you could rely on was Omega’s hand in yours as she hurried you out of there.

You sat in the cockpit of the Marauder. They knew to leave you alone, to let you sort out how you were feeling for yourself as they discussed what to do next outside. Everything inside you felt like it had been eaten by a demolition droid and spat out in pieces. The life you had dared to briefly hope for with the boys was dashed, shattered into a million pieces like stars in the galaxy. Wiping your face free of tears you tried to collect yourself, still shaken by your reaction within the Senate building. Your body shook every now and again, the tremors skitting through your body as the chill gripped you on the inside.

Breathing through shaky lips you tried again to fix yourself and rearrange the pieces back to where they belonged. But it was hopeless. Only one thing now could help ease what you were going through, and you were determined to see it through.

Lifting your head, you wiped your face again as someone approached. You could feel him. The slow measure of his steps, the weight of his thoughts and the faint press of apprehension rippled through his calm. Rex stood in the hatch of the cockpit, a small sigh escaping him as he eased himself down into a seat. He wanted to talk, to blurt it all out but he also knew what you’d seen today.

“I’m not here to force you,” he started. In truth you’d already made up your mind. You had witnessed the recording of Kamino, you had felt Omega’s pain as she witnessed it for a second time. The boys had been quiet since the bill passed. They had helped it happen. No one could have predicted Palpatine’s ability to turn it round to his advantage, not even Tech.

You had come here to sort out your own feelings away from the influence of the Batch, to try and pick apart what you wanted to do.

“What, exactly do you need me to do?” You finally asked Rex.

“I need your hands,” Rex said simply, holding his own out absently. “We need your abilities. Clones come to me, not always in the best shape and I am tired,” his voice broke. “I am tired of watching my brothers die.” You knew that feeling. You had seen the empty plates of armour, heard the dying screams and felt the warmth of their life bleeding out onto the ground. “It will be worse than ever now, every clone has the threat of death above their heads and it’s only a matter of time.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Really?” His rush of relief was palpable, you could almost touch it as it filtered around the cockpit. “You don’t know what this means,” he started but you turned your chair to finally face him.

“I do. I know what this means. I can feel it.” Tilting your head to the side you regarded him, tracing the tired lines of his face and the worn look in his eyes. “I am connected to this fight in more ways than I care to admit, with the things I’ve seen. I’m being put on this path and—I’m fed up of fighting it.” Your gaze dropped to the top of your knee and you fought back the urge to cry. “I am not looking forward to telling Omega.”

“It won’t be forever, she will understand.” Rex murmured as steps sounded on the ramp and Echo appeared.

“Rex. Can I talk to you?” Dropping your leg you went to get up but Rex put out a hand to stop you.

“Wait…whatever you want to say can be to both of us.” Echo’s face showed surprise before he could school it into indifference, his golden eyes flicking between you both. “Stitch has agreed to become my medic.”

“She has?” He looked sharply at you, frowning a little. “What about Tech?”

“Tech?” It was Rex’s turn to look a little confused until realisation dawned. “Ah…Tech.” Now you felt embarrassed, shifting on your feet as you glanced up at the ceiling.

“If Stitch is doing her part, I am ready to do mine.” Echo straightened up and fixed his attention on Rex. “I want to help, to do more for our brothers.”

“We’d be lucky to have you,” Rex said with undisguised relief as he clapped Echo on the shoulder. “I’ll get Gregor to set you up. Be just like old times.”

“Yeah,” Echo agreed with a rare smile.

“Stealing my squad, Captain?” Hunter materialised from the darkness of the hold.

“Actually,” Rex rumbled. “I’m stealing one and the other volunteered.”

“Hmmm.” Hunter looked grimly at the group before him, already knowing which was which. He reached for Echo and they knocked their vambraces together. “Good luck, brother. You will always have a place among us.”

“Thanks, Hunter. I’ll never forget what your squad have done for me, but I belong somewhere else now.”

“I know.” Hunter gave him a cursory nod and then moved aside letting Echo and Rex leave until it was just you and him. You didn’t expect this to hurt so much, you felt torn between wanting to go with the Batch and staying here to help Rex. “You have to do what you feel is best,” he told you, clearly trying to gauge how you were feeling about all of this.

Your face crumbled as your mask slipped, spilling forth the cascade of emotions that had gathered in your chest. He approached you quickly, pulling your head into his shoulder as he cradled you to him. “I don’t want to leave you,” you sobbed. “Not Omega, not T-Tech, not Wrecker.”

“They will understand. It won’t be forever, Stitch. We’ll know where you are.” You stayed in his arms, eyes closed as you quietly cried into his chest.

“What am I going to say to him?” You whispered.

“Just tell him the truth. I can guarantee he’s already worked out every possible scenario, so I doubt your choice will come as a shock to him.” You sighed and turned your face, pillowing your cheek on his armour and finally wrapping your own arms around him.

“Saying it makes it real,” you murmured.

“It does,” he hummed in agreement. With a reluctant sigh you broke apart, Hunter taking the comfort and warmth of his embrace with him. “I’ll get him.” You didn’t need clarification as to who he was referring. You began to pace along the length of the cockpit, your fingers dancing along the tops of the chairs as you mouthed silently about what you wanted to say. As soon as you felt him on the ramp your anxiety kicked up a notch and you began to wring your hands together, swallowing down the tears.

“Hunter said you wished to speak to me?” Tech removed his helmet and put it on the console.

“I-I do.” Your voice was weak, wavering with emotion before you’d even said anything and he sighed lightly from behind you. “So you know Rex asked me a question earlier?”

“I assumed it was related to that,” he sounded so calm but there was a tightness to his words that you really had to listen for. He felt tense, agitated as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “You are staying,” he concluded heavily. For the first time, emotion coloured his words and it struck you right in the chest.

“I have to. If I can do anything to prevent my nightmares from becoming real…” your hands lifted to curl into fists, tears raging from your eyes as your jaw clenched. You drew in a breath to try and calm yourself.

“What you are doing is admirable.” You slowly turned, Tech frowned at your armour clearly not able to look you in the face right now and you couldn’t blame him. “I understand your choice to walk a different path, though I may not agree with it. I realise that might be—selfish of me.” You had no idea what to say, his candid response had knocked the wind from under your wings. He seemed to shake himself out of his own reverie, blinking a couple of times before looking up into your face. “I am not entirely sure what you require from me?”

“I don’t know either,” you confessed. “I…I guess this is a goodbye.”

“I am not versed in saying goodbye.” You let out a rough sob, covering your face as you shook. He was sad, you could sense it and he was confused by it. Tech didn’t like change but he always took it in his stride, that’s who he was as a person and soldier. Except this was different.

Overcoming a change in battle was one thing but overcoming a situation that he had no experience in was something else. He could feel that uncomfortable sensation inside, the way his guts knotted and he only knew one way to ease them. He didn’t think, he just acted. You let out a gasp of surprise but you didn’t resist, falling almost gratefully against him as your body tensed with the force of your crying.

His fingers found their way to the back of your head, resting his cheek against you and hooking his other arm around your waist. Your armour knocked against his and he wished just in this moment, neither of you were geared up.

Tech breathed you in, soaking up your scent and feeling you in his arms. Closing his eyes he tried to commit all of this to memory. The sound of your breathing in his ear, the feel of your hands, the texture of your hair, the softness of your cheek against his; he stored it all away in his memory bank. Knowing that he could pull on it at times when he felt he was going to need to remember you the most.

You were staying. Helping Rex with his secret missions and liberating clones. He couldn’t stop the feeling that bubbled up in his chest, a fierce protectiveness and he had the fleeting idea of telling Hunter that he was staying too. But he couldn’t do that to his brothers.

Once they left…there would be no contact, no secret comcalls when you couldn’t sleep, no sitting together and enjoying the silence; no talking in depth about ships or animals or anything else that you might require from him. It made him hold you tighter, letting his face fall into the softness of your neck.

You shifted, moving your face so you could kiss his cheek, wetting his skin with your tears. Closing his eyes he copied, pressing his lips against your cheek and he tasted the saltiness that sat there. Tech’s hand moved, sliding along the curve of your neck to stroke the line of your jaw as your noses knocked into one another.

He ached to kiss you. He had been surprised by the way you had rendered him stupefied earlier and now all he wanted was your lips to banish all the thoughts in his head. Your breath was hot and ragged, dancing across his mouth and mingling with his own as you both seemed frozen. Your lips ghosted over his and he couldn’t resist anymore.

He felt more confident this time, a soft moan rumbling up his throat as you provided that bliss he so desperately sought from you. He didn’t want it to stop, to not feel the way you melted against him or hear the little groan you responded with. He brought his other hand up, cupping your cheeks as he tried to pull you closer, feeling your open mouth against his as you let him in. He didn’t know what he was doing, he just knew he wanted to feel you in every way possible.

Your grip tightened on his hips as he leaned into you so much he made you back up into the pilot's chair. He drank down your gasp of surprise, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter, knowing this moment was coming to an end.

You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his, the pair of you catching your breath from the intensity of the moment.

“Tech…” his name was the embodiment of the painful ache in your chest. Fear spiked as he pulled away and you fought the temptation to grip him tighter, to hold him close and never let him go.

“I know Wrecker will want to say his goodbye.” Fresh tears made your vision flounder and you nodded, seeing him give you a brief smile and a nod before he disappeared completely.

It felt like your chest was caving in. You struggled to breathe and that’s how Wrecker found you. Gasping and clutching at Tech’s chair in an effort to ground yourself as everything swirled just out of your reach. It was all changing so fast and you knew why but that didn’t make it any easier.

Wrecker tried to put you back together, his large hands held you and his deep voice vibrated through you as he shed his own tears until you both were just a heap on the floor. You were going to miss this clone, something you never thought you would ever think or say. When you’d first seen him he created such a sense of fear in you, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome it. And here you were, right now laying on his broad chest, looking at the lower half of the console not knowing how much time had passed until Hunter appeared in the doorway.

You knew it was time.

He pulled you up, his eyes catching yours for a second as he held out his vambrace and you paused. He gave you a nod, the tiny upturn of a smile at the corner of his mouth as you balled your fist and lifted your own arm. The katarn clacked together twice followed by his hand on the back of your head and he briefly pressed his forehead to yours.

Wrecker was next, he pushed a little forcefully against your arm but you took the hit, letting the bigger clone bend down and put his forehead to yours for a moment. Hunter offered your helmet and you took it. Quickly wiping your face as they followed you out of the ship.

Tech was standing with a hand on Omega’s shoulder talking to Rex and Echo. You quietly joined the group, a sense of guilt twisting your insides as Omega beamed up at you. An anxious silence fell on the group and Hunter sighed, turning to address Rex first.

“If you need anything Rex, just say the word.” His voice was gruff, harder than it was before and you knew this was a blow to him. To all of them. Echo looked at him, resolve evident in his posture. “Wherever you end up, remember what I said.” The change in Omega was instant at Hunter’s words, her joy at having everyone together trickling away as her face fell and realisation dawned in her eyes. “And you,” Hunter murmured. “Stay safe.” A nod was all you could muster.

Wrecker gently hit Echo’s shoulder, “Don’t get into trouble without us,” he said gruffly to Echo. Giving you a gentle shoulder knock as he walked past to the Marauder.

“Without us?”Omega questioned and you kneeled down next to her. “What’s going on?”

“We are staying,” you managed to choke out.

“We? Why?” You glanced at Echo, barely able to keep yourself together.

“Because we are going to help Rex,” you managed to tell her through the burn in your throat.

Echo came up next to you, looking down at her with a soft expression on his face. “The clones will need our help now more than ever. I can’t turn my back on them,” he told her.

“You—you can’t leave!” Her hazel eyes cast frantically between you. “We’re a squad!”

“Omega, this is something I have to do,” Echo stressed firmly but gently.

“And you?” She asked with the beginnings of tears.

“After seeing what happened to Kamino, paired with my nightmares and this outcome at the Senate…if I can do anything to help, I will.” You tried to give her a comforting smile but you were sure it just looked like a grimace.

“We are going where we’re needed,” Echo stressed gently.

“But we need you too! And…” she looked at you again. “What happens now?” Echo crouched down, his helmet on the floor next to yours as he put a hand on the young girl's shoulder.

“It’s not forever. We’ll be back. Keep up with your training while we’re gone. Huh? Understood?” You could feel her trying not to give in to the sadness that filled her even as she threw her arms around both your necks.

“Get Tech to keep your medical knowledge up to scratch,” you whispered, glancing up at him as you spoke. Omega released you both, brushing away the stray tears that had fallen.

“Yes ma’am,” she whispered. You stood up, clutching your helmet in your hands to stop you from throwing yourself at Tech.

“Best of luck, Echo.” His voice was cheery and bright but you sensed what was lurking behind. You saw the way he looked at you, his brow pulling into a tortured expression that made his eyes look so sad behind his goggles. He went to walk away but you lunged for his hand, making him draw abruptly to a halt and he turned to look at you with a puzzled expression. “We have already done our farewell,” he murmured.

“I know but…I can have one more,” you murmured.

“It does not make this any easier,” as he spoke you felt his fingers interlace with yours, giving your hand a squeeze and absently drawing you closer.

“No.” You became aware that everyone was watching you as Tech studied your face. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” you admitted in a breathy rush.

“Then it is worth it.” Tech’s gaze dropped to Omega as she walked past and he let you go, following her to the ship and he didn’t look back.

You stood beside Echo, trying and failing to keep your sobs quiet. You watched the ship start up, gliding effortlessly away while repeating it wasn’t forever, over and over again. But right now it felt like you were never going to see them again.

The sensation of being watched crawled up your spine and you inhaled, turning to the left, eyes searching the gloom and coming up with nothing. It dispersed when Rex came up beside you.

“Come on. There’s someone who is dying to meet you.” The next steps you took, felt like your boots were made of raw doonium. Yet they carried you back inside, to a new chapter and further away from Tech.

[pannaginip]

Mobile platform services like Grab and Food Panda employ over 400,000 workers, according to research think tank Fairwork Philippines. These workers form the platform economy, a growing subset meant to describe those employed by delivery, ride-sharing, and other service applications.

Dr. Cheryl Ruth Soriano, principal investigator for Fairwork Philippines, stated that financial insecurity manifests through disproportionately long hours making minimum wage, the lack of provisions for added fuel cost due to infrastructure problems, and a lack of regulatory standards across payment methods, among others.

[...] Soriano noted that in many cases, workers took out loans to use as initial capital, usually to purchase motorcycles, fuel, shoulder maintenance costs, and so on.

However, low wages and irregular hours fail to offset these initial costs. Added costs such as processing fees and other charges made by the mobile platform service also serve to further shrink workers’ take-home pay.

In some cases, platform workers have to contend with ‘quota insurance’ schemes which stipulate that riders must first reach a minimum number of delivery orders serviced before being entitled to insurance benefits. Most delivery service platforms also mandate that the platform worker can only claim insurance if they were injured while on delivery.

Legally, platform workers are offered very little protection, noted Fairwork legal consultant Atty Jayvy Gamboa. Platform workers are considered as ‘partners’, or ‘independent contractors,’ or ‘third-party service providers,’ which leads to workers losing out on legally-mandated benefits.

According to the IBON Foundation, some 20.8 million Filipinos, or 42 percent of the total workforce, engage in outright informal work. If irregular workers in private establishments are also included, the total number can reach as much as 35 million, or 70 percent of the total workforce.

The rise of informal work, including work from mobile platform services, is indicative of a worsening problem with the labor market, says IBON. “The dirty little secret is that jobs are really of lower and lower quality and being reported as ‘employed’ means less and less in terms of livelihoods,” the research group said.

According to the National Union of Food Delivery Riders (RIDERS), organizing platform workers are still faced with challenges, ranging from union busting to legal loopholes. “We can say that we’re now on the radar of workers, the government, and platform companies,” said RIDERS National Coordinator Geoffrey Labudahon. “But we still face problems in organizing.”

2024 Nov. 20