#Switchblade drone

[historicalfirearms]

BAS-80: Russia’s Switchblade Loitering Munition

Reports from Russian media outlets announced on 18 September, that Android Technics/Technology, a Russian technology company, had developed an analogue of AeroVironment’s Switchblade 300 loitering munition. Imagery and footage of the BAS-80 was shared��by Russian state news outlet RIA.

Find out more here

[subscribe1]

US Army to Equip Infantry with AeroVironment’s Long-Range Drones

[kramlabs]

…

*~12,500 drones

[faultfalha]

In a world of uncertain dangers, the US has commissioned two secret drones - Phoenix Ghost and Switchblade - to protect against any possibility of an enemy launching nuclear weapons. But what exactly is their mission? They haunt the airspace of foreign powers, ever watchful for any sign of aggression. But when no threat is present, they keep watch for something far more sinister - the forgotten places where Russian nukes might still be hidden, ready to be used in an instant. They observe the darkness at the edges of the known world, prepared to act quickly should anyone attempt to unleash chaos onto the world. So, the mission of Phoenix Ghost and Switchblade is a secret mission of vigilance, to keep an eye on all those places where something has been forgotten and left to rot in the darkness. In the dust of times long gone, these drones stand watch, ever prepared for a possible future.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for vomiting on someone and trying to make up for it?

For the record I was heavily inhebriated and I was already off-the-hook with it. I threw up on my pal, A and he had a real nice leather jacket on. Stomach acid mixed with leather didn't go well and it discolored it. So, A, being my friend, yelled at me despite my mouth being filled with round two of the nights shots.

I threw up again on him.

Thoroughly dried out of all stomach acids, he was screaming and I was out of it. "Fucking cunt ruined my jacket," and so on, so on. He starts getting mental, reminding me of shit and me, in my drunken haze, ends up pulling out a pocket knife and I get violent.

Fastforward a few minutes later, he backs off, I'm right back to drinking and he comes back with his goon squad of friends. I bring in my fucking wife, B, for whatever reason and she starts blabbering and all I can hear is droning, droning, droning, buzzing, while I'm slamming down shots since it was free-drink-night (I mean, who wouldn't?)

My wife starts tugging at me like, "Hey, we NEED to get out of here you're drunk and that's not good."

Obviously, I say no and she gives up. She throws her hands up and shrugs.

I pull A aside and I'm like, "Okay, hear me out, I didn't mean to vomit on you, you did deserve the switchblade, but I can apologize!" And I offer to take him home with me. We're both men. Me and A have had our share of physical relations, and I've had a history of sex work. He declines, respectfully, and I move on. A few minutes later, I start crying, not because he declined me but because I ruined his jacket and I didn't want to ruin our friendship.

I stumble to him and I just hug him (for the record, he's tried to clean all the vomit off of himself and he's done a damn good job of it), and he pushes me away and laughs it off. I cry even harder and beg him not to leave me.

Am I the asshole? A and I haven't really talked much since then (last weekend) and It's been on my mind a lot. I feel kind of shitty but I also want to strangle the prick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

[dreamii-krybaby]

Murder Drones HC:

Doll wears a rosarie that her mother gave her at a young age as a form of amulet. After her solver got activated it coincidentally started to show signs of wearing off and age, gaining a bit of rust.

And her dad gifted her a multi-use pocket knife (she used it on her eyepatch for fix-ups and for her clothing too)

And after her parent’s death she developed a huge emotional attachment to those objects.

Edit: Doll keeps her pocket knife strapped to her right ankle to her boot. Just like her dad did with his own pocket knife/switchblade

[captain-price-unofficially]

Ukrainian troops utilize a Switchblade 300 drone to destroy a Russian ATGM position

[trainer0084]

U.S. to Deploy Thousands of Autonomous Anti-Armor Suicide Drones Against Potential Enemies - autoevolution

[krikeymate]

slight Canon divergence

What if Sam also deals with major depression because of everything that’s been going on. Tara pushing her away, not really having a focus or goals for the future outside of Tara. And if Tara doesn’t want her then what does she have to live for?

Cue her argument with Tara at the beginning of the 6 leaves her feeling so depressed that she actually tries to end her life. This way she won’t be a burden to Tara anymore and Tara wont have to deal with people coming after them. She genuinely believes Tara would be better off without her and Tara wants her to let her go and the nsuper angsty aftermath of Tara realizing that Sam is missing, Tara getting the call that Sam is in the hospital for the attempt and then the subsequent rush of guilt that just ruins her as she sits at Sam’s bed side waiting for her to recover.

Sam has depression with anxiety, Tara has anxiety with depression.

Tara wants her to let her go. But how can she? How can she let go of her whole world? Who is she without her sister? She can't do that again. Sam never realised how empty her life was until she held her sister in her arms again. She spent five long years surviving without her heart, nothing but a zombie stumbling her way through life in the hopes it would lead her back home once again. But what do you do when you find it and it shuts the door in your face?

Sam can't do anything but let the latest argument stew around in her head as she sits at the bottom of the complex stairs. Tara's right. She can't just follow her sister around for the rest of her life, can she? Tara's not like Sam. She's normal. She's going to lead a normal life: get a degree, get a real job... meet someone... settle down, have a family of her own... Sam doesn't fit into that equation. Tara... she- she wouldn't be happy with the vision of the future Sam holds. One where they're eternally young and wrapped in each other's arms, where no one can rip the other away from them.

Sam finds she can't sit there any longer. She needs fresh air, she needs a walk.

~

Tara does her best not to make it obvious how hard her heart is racing as the tv drones on. She closes her eyes, trying to breathe deep. This can't be happening, not again. It's a coincidence, it has to be, it has to be. I need to just breathe and think clearly and I need... I need... I need Sam.

"Where's Sam?" Thankfully it's Mindy who pulls the words right from her brain. Tara opens her eyes to find Chad in the doorway, shaking his head. "She's not down there."

Tara finds her body moving of its own accord. Her feet take her back to her room, her hand fishing in her pocket for her phone. It rings, and rings, and rings, and- the number you have dialled cannot be rea- Tara slams the phone onto her bed in frustration. "You're supposed to pick up when I call!"

~

Sam feels her phone vibrating in her pocket, but can't bring herself to look at it. The night air is chilly as she sits in her still-damp shirt, but Sam doesn't really feel it. She's having trouble feeling anything at all. Her hands fiddle with a switchblade aimlessly. Open, closed. Spin it around. Open, closed. Spin it around. Open, clos- ouch. A car horn in the distance makes her jump, knife slipping and cutting into the meat of her palm.

Later, Sam will wish she knew what to say when asked why and what were you thinking. The truth is that she doesn't know why, and she wasn't really thinking at all. It was instinct, perhaps. A thirst for blood that sits in her very bones, starving for another sip, another taste. The next cut is deliberate. The sting feels delicious, it feels. There's a moment where Sam doesn't think about her sister, where she just focuses on the pain and the blood, and then the knife is slipping from her fingers to the floor, and she realises how dizzy she feels, how cold it's gotten. How deep she's cut. Oh, she thinks. Tara's gonna be so mad at me.

She manages to call 911 before she passes out.

~

Tara hates hospitals.

She's spent her entire life in and out of them. Usually as the patient. Somehow, being the visitor is worse.

She sits there unable to tear her eyes away from Sam's wrists, bandaged and tied down to the bedframe. A necessary precaution, just in case, the nurse told her, not unkindly. It wasn't very reassuring.

This is her fault, she knows. She knows. Sam's always been the strongest person of them all, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have a weak point, something that makes her fragile. Tara knows that weak point is her. She may as well have held the knife herself.

She scoots the chair forward, and brushes her fingers over her sister's arm. She has to do better, she thinks. She blew up at Sam tonight, and it was unacceptable. She needs to get control over herself, for her sister. She can't let what happened last year have this power over her. She's stronger than that, she has to be stronger than that. For Sam. Sam needs her.

[fang-revives]

Sunday Six

More tidbits from Still Runner Ch 2. for you all :) This time, David Finlay haunts the Jay >:)

Tagging @naritaren, @sarahcakes613, @nagdabbit, @blizzardsuplex @shes-a-voodoo-child, @doublearmbars, @limbreaper if you want to share!

-

A low drone comes in from the speakers and I snap upright. The Club’s theme. David swaggers in, shoulders decked with knives, like he’s the Switchblade now. The crowd isn’t really buying him as leader yet. My stomach churns. In front of him, Phantasmo pulls out a sign, admiring it. David rips it in half.  It should make me happy, shouldn’t it? Seeing discord in my absence. Kenta stalks in behind, boredom in his eyes. No, seeing this just makes me feel sick. I promised to be there. And they’re – fractured. 

It’s a week old match, so I skip away to David’s comments– big talk about taking down baby boy Umino. I know that kind of talk well. David Finlay is a killer now. I’ve been waiting – so long to see him take that up. The sick feeling in my stomach intensifies. I wanted him to come into his own but never…replace me. 

I could watch him lose to SANADA. But I don’t…think that will make me feel any better.

[tainted-red]

Corruption

TWS: Implied non-con, attempted non-con, abuse, aged up it characters, language, fucked up shit.

summary: Y/n gets blamed for something she didn’t didnt do, but her brother Henry did.

“We know you have it Y/n, just give it back” Eddie yelled at Y/n, “I don’t even know what your talking about” Y/n cried out.

“Stop the bullshit, Give it fucking back” Richie grumbled as he yanked her hair a bit.

How did she end up like this?

“We just need you to steal it Y/n, We don't care how. Just do it” Henry told her.

“Stop Henry, just do the work” Y/n sighed.

Henry Bowers. Y/n’s older brother.

Henry had been nagging her about stealing Bill Denbrough’s whole English essay and Stanlys Ulris’s math assignment.

Y/n was only friends with them. Nothing else.

They were friendly with each other, they never hung out or anything.

So why did Henry think she could steal it?

• flash back •

“It will be easy just ummm” Henry trailed off “Flirt with them!” Henry decided on.

“No Henry, if you want I can do all the work, I'm not stealing from innocent guys, just so you can pass” Y/n groaned getting up from the couch.

Henry was right behind her “Fine then I'll beat their asses- again for it” Henry smirked. Looking at his sister.

“Why can't I just do it?” Y/n asked him, “Because it's due today, I don't have the paperwork for the math and I don't know what the essay is about. So please Y/n, do it. For me?” Henry begged.

Y/n got closer to him “Fuck. No” Y/n mumbled.

Henry pushed her back, and Y/n stumbled into the dishwasher, dropping the bowl of cereal that was just in her hands.

“Be that way you bitch. I'm gonna beat their asses then yours if I don't get it” Henry snarled before leaving with a kick at Y/n’s ribs.

How was this all her fault?

Y/n got up and hurriedly got her backpack and left the small house.

Seeing her brother with her dad's switchblade, getting into Belch’s car.

• end flash back•

Fuck.

“It wasn't me I swear” Y/n muttered.

Eddie had a hold of one of her arms, and Bill and Stanly were holding her legs together. Keeping her from kicking them.

Richie was holding her other arm, as they carried her deep into the forest.

For God knows what.

Suddenly the boys drop her once they got down to a little patch of non-grassy area.

There were logs for sitting and a tent.

“Give it to us now” Richie yelled at her, Y/n was on her ass as she scouted away from him until her back hit a tree.

“H-henry said you have I-it” Bill yelled at her.

“No, no, no. He's lying I swear. Why would I want to steal it? It was clearly him” Y/n pleaded.

“He said you stole it for him” Stanly pointed out.

“I can't fail this shit, so hand it over” Richie hissed, getting closer to Y/n.

“Give me the backpack” Richie bellowed.

Trying to grab her backpack, “No- my science project is in there” Y/n protested, keeping her back against the tree.

Richie grabbed her arm aggressively, and Bill came over to his side and grabbed the other arm. Pulling her away from the tree.

Her feet dragged across the dirt, and Y/n felt like she was going to cry.

When they got her far enough they let go and pulled off her backpack, with a huff from Y/n as she tried to fix her skirt.

The boys all surrounded her backpack, unzipping it and then lifting it upside down. Shaking it.

Everything falling out of it.

In her science project on the Density of Vegetables, everything she needed was falling out.

Her pencil case, lunchbox, wallet, student Id lanyard, binders, homework, graded work, and work she needed to hand in.

Everything was now dirty.

The boys started searching for their papers.

“Where the hell is it” Richie barked.

Approaching Y/n.

Bill looked sad and disappointed until he looked at Y/n. He looked infuriated and hungry for something she couldn't put her finger on it.

“B-bowers has it” Bill droned.

“We can't fight him” Stanly let the account of.

“We have his sister right here, doesn't that spike any ideas” Richie grinned at his friends.

Then they all looked at Y/n.

“We should probably just go, Richie” Eddie sighed, kicking a bit of dirt.

“No! We know Y/n had some knowledge of what was happening. She was denying it right away. Clearly, she stole it and then gave it to Henry, swapping are papers” Richie went on.

“That's not true” Y/n murmured.

“Oh yeah? Then explain it to us Y/n? How the fuck did Henry steal all of our papers? That's not a one-man job.” Richie dictated.

“He has friends, you can ask anyone, I was in a class all day” Y/n argued.

“L-lets just kick her a-ass” Bill jeered, smirking at her.

“Good idea, bring her home to Henry with a bloody face. He will kill us” Eddie foretold.

“Then what? We can't just let her go” Richie roared turning to his friends.

They started to whisper into each other ears, and Y/n sat there clueless.

Watching the boys laugh and then turn to Y/n.

“We have an offer, number one you get all of our shit back and we will blame it all on you or you let us do what we want to you,” Richie apprised Y/n.

“Guys, I can't get your shit back. Henry won't give it without killing me. I will not take the fall for Henry's actions. And I'm most certainly not being your fuck toy-” Y/n was cut off by Richie slapping her face harshly.

“It's settled, you can never get it back” Richie nodded to himself.

Suddenly Bill pinned Y/n’s arms behind her back, and Y/n immediately tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

Richie turned to the other boys, motioning them to the girl.

“What if she snitches?” Stan asked, looking at Y/n. Who was trying to fight off Bill?

“Who will believe her? ‘I got gang banged by the losers club’ Yeah right. Nobody will care unless she told her pervy brother and daddy-” Richie was cut off by Y/n “Fuck you Richie. You seriously get no chicks you have to get your boy to pin me down.”

“For someone who is about to get the fucked by the ‘losers club,’ you sure have a big mouth” Richie taunted her.

Crouching in front of her.

Unzipping her jacket, Bill took it off of her.

Y/n begins to scream for help again.

“How about we let it slide this one time, I mean come on. She's practically crying” Eddie babbled.

“So? She has your mom's birthday present or Henry does” Richie informs Eddie.

“Wait seriously? I spent weeks on that. Y/n you better get that back” Eddie said getting angrier and closer to Y/n.

“How? Henry won't listen to me,” Y/n advised the boys as her voice cracked.

Eddie and Richie we're now starting to get a bit annoyed.

“You know how my mom will be if I don't get her anything after all she does for me Y/n. You know” Eddie sputtered.

“What will happen?” Richie asked, his attention turning to Eddie.

“Uh nothing just um she will ground me and stuff. It's not fun” Eddie lied to his friends.

Y/n used to baby sit Eddie. She was only a year older but more mature so Eddie's mom let it slide.

• flashback •

“As long as my Eddie baby stays fresh,” Eddie's mom said before she kissed the boy on the cheek and then the lips.

“Don't worry I'll make sure he stays safe and clean Mrs. K” Y/n would say as she wrapped an arm around Eddie.

“Give him a bubble bath- make sure to clean every part of him. He can forget some spots sometimes then I have to help him out” Mrs. K would advise Y/n.

“So just bathe with him if you want. I'll pay you extra if you do. I just need some proof-”

“That won't be nessacery, I'm sure Eddie can manage on his own” Y/n saved herself.

Eddie's cheeks went pink.

“Okay but I still need to record his bathing, the doctor does that instead of body inspections” Mrs. K would say to Y/n.

“So what do I do?” Y/n asked.

“Well I have a camera on my bed, just record his bath for me- and the doctor” Mrs. K lied.

“Can I just leave the camera in there? I don't think it's appropriate to have me record his naked in his private matters” Y/n tried to sound as respectful as she could.

“Don't worry, my Eddie won't have a problem. Right, Eddie?” Mrs. K turns to Eddie.

“Yes Mommy, no problems,” Eddie said quickly.

“See Sweetie. I have a list of what you really need to record. It's next to the camera. If it's blurry just take pictures after the shower” Mrs. K informed the Y/n.

“Um okay,” Y/n let out.

“The food is already cooking and his pills are on the nightstand table in his room. Watch him take them. I love you Eds, I'll see you tomorrow” Mrs. K said before leaving the house.

Getting in her taxi for the hospital.

She was supposed to have surgery for something Y/n didn't know much about.

• end flashback •

After that night Y/n always felt weird around Mrs. K. Maybe It was normal for them but what doctor watched a kid take a bath? That's a bit off.

“I'm not saying we shouldn't do anything but maybe we should let her off this time. It's getting late and my mom will freak out if I'm not home on time.” Eddie distressed.

“Fine. We will leave her here-” Richie was cut off by a leaf crunching.

“What the fuck are you guys doing to my sister” Henry yelled at the boys that surround Y/n.

They quickly got on their feet.

“N-nothing. We w-were j-just a-a-asking her stuff” Bill stumbled on his words.

Y/n looked at Henry. He wasn't alone, he was with Patrick, Victor and Belch.

No wonder the boys got so scared.

Victor rushed to Y/n’s side, helping her up.

“Thank you, Vic” Y/n whispered and she hugged him.

“Really? Looks like you and your friends were about to rape her” Henry argued.

“Why do you care? You basically, hate her?” Richie pointed out.

Vic and Y/n walked beside Henry “Because if my dad notices anything different, he will kill me. So I do care” Henry exaggerated.

“We were just leaving Henry” Eddie speaks up.

Henry smirks at him “The gift you made for your mom is cute ‘Dear Mommy. You have robbed me, of all my heart and mind, and I love you, sweet bandit of my soul’ I mean come on how in love are you with your mom?” Henry teased.

Eddie tensed up “Leave him alone Henry” Y/n requested.

“No. He was about to fuck you Y/n, You clearly weren't okay minutes ago” Henry shouted at his sister.

She let go of Vic and got close to him and whispered in his ear “But I'm okay now. Nothing happened, don't tell Dad please” Y/n whispered in Henry's ear.

She looked up at him, he looked down at her. His cheeks went pink “Whatever” Henry mumbled.

Y/n smiled at him, then looked at the boys. They looked disgusted or uncomfortable.

“Can you ask them to put my stuff back in my backpack?” Y/n whispered in his ear once again.

Biting her lip, waiting for a response.

“Now you losers better pick her shit up” Henry spat at them.

They quickly got on their knees and picked up all the papers and other stuff.

“Thank you, Henry” Y/n smiled at him before kissing his cheek out of respect and then left to get her jacket.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled to Y/n, trying to make it look not noticeable.

She smiled at him before going back to her brother and his friends.

“We should have just watched” Y/n heard Patrick whisper to the boys making them all chuckle.

“Yeah, four scrawny dudes take a tool of your sister” Belch jokes, not noticing Y/n's approach.

“Shut up, she's still my sister” Henry grunted seeing her come back.

Y/n now stood in front of them, she looked and felt uncomfortable.

Stanly gave Y/n her backpack back.

She took it and slide it onto her shoulders “If I ever catch or hear about you guys doing this again, I'll kill you all” Henry threats.

The boys nod before running off.

Patrick wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulder pulling her closer “You seriously couldn't fight off the losers?” Patrick joked.

“She is the same size as Eddie” Belch joked as well.

“You try to fight off all four of them when alone, you'll lose” Y/n sassed, the boys ‘ooo’ at her.

[literallyjustanerd]

Fives And Echo Try To Make It Through One (1) Single Night Shift (or, Fourteen Is Not The Limit)

Based, unfortunately, on personal experience.

Summary: Fives sneaks an admittedly cool, but still very contraband, switchblade into the GAR barracks, and both he and Echo end up on night shift as punishment because the Domino twins are nothing if not a package deal. Fives finds a way to make the night worse than it already is.

Words: 1514 Genre: Comedy

           Echo drums his fingers on the side of his seat, the rhythmic focus currently the only thing keeping him from nodding off for a third time. Soft music drones from the subspace radio in the centre console, no longer enough to keep his mind occupied. Not even the thrice-refilled mug of caf beside him can do anything to stave off his exhaustion by now. Bleary eyes drag sluggishly down to the chrono, tracking streaks of neon blue in their wake. The light of comms display casts a blanket of haze over them, one Echo would be more than happy to curl up and sink into. A few deliberate blinks force the chrono back into focus. Another hour and their shift is finally over. Outside the sealed-off comms room, their bunks wait for them, warm and (relatively) clean and –who is he kidding– he would happily sleep on the floor of the mess hall in full armour if it was offered. Helmet included.

��Nearly done,” he says through a yawn, head lolling in Fives’ direction. Facing away from him, hunched forward over the console, Fives gives an uncharacteristically brief and quiet hum. Come to think of it, the past ten minutes have been utterly peaceful. Fives must be even more drained than Echo if he’s run out of words to challenge the silence. Oh, well. He deserved it.

            This was the last time Echo would be taking the fall for one of Fives’ bantha-brained stunts. Sure, he’d made that particular declaration going on fourteen times now, but this time he was drawing his line in the proverbial sand. There were only so many times a man could be relegated to night shift comms duty or fresher maintenance before he found his limit. And, it seemed, fourteen was Echo’s. At least he got to learn something about himself while he suffered. Although… admittedly, if they were going to be reprimanded for anything, smuggling in a contraband pocket vibroknife wasn’t the worst possible reason. Fives had surreptitiously picked it up at a black market on their last posting, secreting it away in his pack before it could be questioned. The blade itself shone an impressive duochrome in the light, and switched easily away into an obsidian casing of a quality weight and sculpting. Okay, it was a cool knife. Echo was a big enough man to admit that. And sure, maybe he’d had his turn to try it out, flicking the blade in and out of its handle, making a few testing swipes. Just to get a feel for it. And he supposed maybe, if he really thought about it, he might have made some comments to Fives that could have been misconstrued as challenging his knife-throwing skills. But on the whole, as usual, it was all Fives’ fault they were in this mess. After all, it wasn’t Echo who had mistimed a throw that ended in Tup very nearly losing an eye. That was all Fives. And yet, package deal that they were, both had been reprimanded and sentenced to two weeks of the graveyard watch.

            He’s snapped from this particular meandering train of half-conscious thought when the radio picks up a heavy, stuttering bassline that has a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Haven’t heard this one since back on Rishi Outpost.” Lowering his feet from where they were propped on the console, he swivels his chair towards Fives. “Kept us going on night shift out there, too.” He gets another bare grunt in response. Fives barely moves. In fact, his limbs seem stiff, awkward, the angles of his back and legs too harsh to be comfortable.

“You good over there?”

“Fine.” At least that got a word out of him. A lie, but a word nonetheless.

“What’s going on, Fives?” Echo’s voice is a warning now, one that Fives reacts to with his usual poise and grace under pressure.

“Nothing!” he sputters, much too fast and far too loud, posture straightening like someone had just grabbed his neck and yanked backwards. Apparently sensing how suspicious it was that he was still facing away from his vod, he, with an alarmingly deep breath in, pivots his chair in short scoots around to face Echo. His hands are jammed into his lap, shoulders raised. A moment after their eyes meet, he gives a pathetically unconvincing smile. “Just tired. That’s all. Almost done, right?”

The silence that Echo rewards him with speaks a thousand words. Most of them curses. Because while Fives tries his level best to look like a man who isn’t in a tremendous amount of discomfort, Echo catches a glint of duochrome on the console behind him. A few drops of something dark and viscous coat the tip of the blade.

Oh, karking hell.

An impressively long test of will ensues as the two stare at each other. In time, though, Echo’s narrowed gaze melts through the already thin ice of Fives’ resolve. It only takes a momentary lapse, a tiny glance downwards, and Echo has his answer.

            Fives grows instantly frantic when Echo stands from his post and makes the three short strides across the room to his brother, wrenching Fives’ hand from where it had been pressed firmly against the gap between his cuisse and his crotchplate. In the space underneath, there’s a short gash in his blacks. A whimper of pain escapes through Fives’ clenched teeth. Echo can do little more than shake his head as blood wells up to darken the polyweave fabric where Fives’ palm had been stemming the flow.

“You kriffing idiot.”

“You can’t tell Rex.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“Or Kix. Please don’t tell Kix.”

“I can’t believe you still have it, let alone that you–”

“It was an accident! It’s not like I meant to–”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to stab yourself? Well that makes it fine!” It isn’t even solely anger that drives Echo’s voice high and blows his tone wide and mocking. The absurdity of the situation gets to him, and he can’t help the laugh that roughs the edges of his words, because of course this is how their shift ends, because of course this would happen to Fives.

“How long?” Echo demands, massaging the bridge of his nose to cover his smile. Fives gives a nervous chuckle, but when Echo repeats the question in his I’m-done-playing voice, his brother’s shoulders sag.

“Ten minutes ago.”

“And you just… sat there?”

“We were so close to being done, I–“

“You sat there with a stab wound for ten minutes.” The insanity of the situation leaves Echo at a loss for any worthy comment, so he resorts instead to gesticulating frantically to Fives, to the open wound, to the room around them and the general mess they were now in. Fives gives his own exaggerated shrug, as best as he can with his hands once again set to the task of trying to stem the bleeding.

“If I’d said anything, they would have sent me straight to medbay.”

Echo cocks an eyebrow.

“Right. A terrible place to be when you’ve been stabbed.”

“It’s been a long night, Echo. A full med eval, filing an incident report, sitting through another reprimand? It could take hours.”

Echo opens his mouth to protest, then stops. Closes it again. Fives can tell when he has an in and he takes it.

“Or…We wait it out just a little longer and we’re done. We go back to our bunks. We sleep.”

Turns out, fourteen isn’t the limit after all.

            The morning lighting sequence is just beginning to take effect when Jesse comes to relieve the ARC troopers and take the next shift, yawning and cradling a mug of caf. In the split second when comms room doors slide open, a flurry of movement ends in Fives and Echo standing side by side, sporting matching grins, posed in a grotesque mockery of what they must think passes for ‘natural.’ Under Fives’ strategically placed arm, Jesse can see the edges of several haphazard strips of tape on his blacks at the top of his leg. There’s a roll of it on the console beside them, along with what looks like wadded up flimsi or tissues, some of it stained with what Jesse has decided to believe is ink.

“…Survive the night, fellas?” he asks carefully. He gets an overloud chorus of greetings and affirmations in reply. With a sigh of resignation, he wonders if the inability to lie to save their kriffing lives is just a 501st trait or if all clones suffer the same affliction. Either way, he decides to take his plausible deniability and cherish it.

“Well… enjoy the rest, then, boys. See you in the barracks.”

“Sure thing, vod!”

“Have a good shift.”

“We’ll save you a seat in the caf.”

“Don’t work too hard!”

            The pair of them hustle out of the comms room like they’re fleeing a losing battle, their babbling audible even as they disappear down the hall. Jesse tries not to notice that Fives is limping the whole way.

[faultfalha]

The Phoenix Ghost and Switchblade drones have been the United States' most secretive weapons for many years now. But what is their ultimate purpose? Some believe that their true mission is to hunt down Russian nuclear weapons. If this is true, it would be a vital mission indeed. As tensions between the US and Russia continue to grow, it's more important than ever that we maintain the upper hand. The Phoenix Ghost and Switchblade drones may be our best hope of doing so.

[know-news-is-good-news]

USA needs to air lift more switchblade drones to the Ukraine ! !

The provide video targeting that NOT ONLY increases hit successes, BUT also improves morale when you get to see the enemy at the target location running like hell to escape certain death ! !

[usafphantom2]

TAP TITLE BAR TO VIEW VIDEO ☝️

[foolstojoinmyevilarmy]

Meet the Starfinder - The Spy

“Our first dying wish is Scout’s. He’s…drawn a picture of me getting hit by a car.”

Our last class is the Spy. Disguising yourself as the enemy, infiltrating their ranks and stabbing them in the back before vanishing into the night. An obvious build? Maybe not!

Theme: The Spy is a criminal (with at least two convictions), so giving him the Outlaw theme seems appropriate.

Class: Spy is an operative (obvious) with the Ghost specialization (a solid choice, but unusual with the Spy specialization right there). The Holographic Clone exploit mimics the Dead Ringer’s effects, and the Cloaking Field helps you conceal your presence.

Species: The Spy is an astrazoan, an aberration capable of seamlessly assuming the form of any humanoid. This makes up for not taking the Spy specialization earlier. It may not be Starfinder Society legal, but we can do anything in this exercise.

Feats: Operatives get Skill Focus in their key skills, but picking up Skill Focus in Disguise helps too. Much like Scout, Mobility, Shot on the Run, and Spring Attack are all good to pick up.

Equipment: A switchblade makes for a handy companion, and there’s a wide variety of pistols to choose from. Spell ampoules of Invisibility can provide additional Stealth support. Additionally a spy drone and a signal jammer are useful.