#central processing technician

[pttedu]

Will There Be A Growing Demand For Central Service Technicians In Coming Years?

Examining the elements influencing the rise in demand for central service technicians and the significance of their contribution to the medical sector.

[pttiedu]

Sterile Technician: Staying Ahead With Continuous Training

Sterile technicians must learn consistently to stay ahead of the curve. Learn more about the importance of sterile processing technician certification.

[catboybiologist]

Alright I can't finish this all in one sitting, but here's at least a bit of.... something? A word vomit? A prelude to smut about the eroticism of the machine? For all you robot, mecha, and spaceship fuckers out there. @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl that means you

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- something to interface with the hull, move the new titanium plates and particulates into place, have a living, growing mass interfacing with the steel so that the ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous interface with the hull full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, and integrating with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, and let them suffer and rot after disposal. So as far as the official record was concerned, they didn't have brains.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on a... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship. They were pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

But I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chasiss I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I strapped in to the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as the tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, that was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. But whatever reason that was, the best pilots were still the ones that knew both their ship, and the ship's brain. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers rooting them into the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on. ...?

"We got a scrap run."

^_^

:)

^_^

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and what Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time.

I punch the boost.

[hi-sierra]

Biologics, chapter 0.5

Hello, hello! I finally have added a significant amount to my story, Biologics, resulting in a total of ~4400 words. Not a whole ton, I know, but unfortunately life gets to ya. It isn't quite where I want it to be to consider a proper chapter one, but I feel like there's enough written for me to post. General warning that this is intended to heavily lean into the theme of "eroticism of the machine", so if that doesn't appeal to you, you've been warned. It does, however, have many general sci fi worldbuilding elements, so I hope it has a somewhat broad appeal!

So yes, if you already read the first snippet, that's going to be mostly a one to one repeat with some grammatical adjustments. Feel free to scroll down until you get to the new stuff. Flow-wise, there just wasn't a good place to break between the two sections.

Look at me rambling. And I wonder why I can't get any of this stuff done. Anyways, here it is!

Biologics

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with Biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- organic matter that interfaced with the hull, moving new titanium plates and patches into place down to microscopic precision. If you had a living, growing mass interfacing with steel, a ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous matrix full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, integrated with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, just to let them suffer and rot. So as far as the official record was concerned, they weren't brains. But I knew different.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on an... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship, was thriving. The Navy was pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. Sometimes, being scavenged and resold was a kinder fate. But more often, some nasty piece of work would pick them up eventually, and treat them like just another goddamn ship. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chassis I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips, as well as some... personal touches. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live in and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I slipped into the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as a tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Hell, she even had a hi-res screen for external cameras and comms, but she refused to interface directly with it. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, the little pixelated screen was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with Biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. Cuz they certainly could take over some ships functions directly, and had the skill to do complex mechanical and electrical tasks. The Navy never let 'em drive, though, and most pilots didn't even know they could give them the ability to control any of the ships functions directly. But with a little help, a little bit of solid engineering, and a pilot that knew their ship... well, you could do a lot. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well. Over the years, I'd added some nice things for her, and she loved using them to help me out.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers affixing them to the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on.

[...?]

"We got a scrap run."

[ ^_^]

[ :) ]

[ ^_^ ]

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and the parts Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time. I punch the boost.

The station shakes. Rosie was never a subtle one.

The mechanics are deafened.

The crowd of spectators are deafened.

The other pilots in the hanger are deafened.

But me? The vibrations of Rosie's hull shuddering under me was the sweetest symphony my ears ever had the pleasure of hearing. As we shot out of that hanger, I found myself involuntarily humming a high note, harmonizing with the sweet rumble of my baby's acceleration as we shoot out into the inky, black expanse of space. The twin asteroids shot by us as we disappeared, leaving only the faint blue plasma trail from our engines.

My hand is firm on the boost, weathered hands tightly gripping the bar of the accelerator. I remember installing this thing in her- it was an aftermarket adjustment, not included in the usual light skipper chassis. Gently stripping away the back of her chassis, caressing her insides as I rooted the paneling, firmly attaching the tanks and burners on her insides... these hands had taken great pleasure in that. Bested only, of course, by the first time I had felt the thing roar to life.

And what a feeling it was. Rosie's entire chassis, biological and mechanical, shuddering under my grasp. The grip of my calloused hands on the boost controls, tight and sweaty around the ridged grip of the horizontal bar. The noises she made, as if to shout in glee and wild abandon at being unchained and let loose into the eternal field of space, as she was made to do. The gentle touch of her skin on my back, my body pressed in contact with the small fraction of hers that was my seat. I glanced down at her face panel.

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

My humming gave way to a chuckle, and then a wholehearted, exhilarated laugh. Someone was enjoying herself. The flickering faces on her panel reminded me of the happily panting station dogs back on Mars.

But as much as I would like this to just be a joyride, I had promised Rosie a scrap run. And the pickings were looking good. I glanced down at the nav. I was intentionally headed at a slightly indirect angle- Rosie's boost was her main attractive feature (both as a ship, and as a working partner), and the extra leeway I had in travel time let me strategize a bit more. I doubted we would be the first people there, but I figured we could get in before the main rush. The only trouble was darting in and grabbing something right from under the noses of the first locusts. The scrap field in question included a disabled heavy mining freighter, a goliath of the ship larger than some of the asteroids it made supply runs between. I assumed that most other scavengers would be approaching directly from our station, and the other stations in its proximity. With Rosie's boost, we could overshoot, hook around, and put the freighter in between us and the guns of the more violent craft. Rosie has no long range weapons of any kind- not only would they slow down her miraculous speed, but she didn't like them. I tried installing a small plasma cannon once, and she expressed immense distaste. Maybe they were too brutish for her, or maybe she didn't like the way they felt inside her, burdening her with pressure from the inside that didn't befit the delicate touches I usually graced her with. Rosie loved speed, precision, elegance, and stealth above all else. It's just the kind of ship she was.

That's not to say she was a pacifist, or defenseless. Quite the contrary. She just prefers a more... personal touch.

The navicom beeped at me. We'd reached the point where we needed to make that hook. My bare feet gently swept across the titanium flooring to the steering pedals. My right hand delicately gripped the steering joystick, while my left eased its grip on the boost accelerator.

"Ready for this, darling?"

[ >:) ]

I slammed the steering to the left, and Rosie gleefully complied. The wide bank of the turn as we rotated and soared through the sea of stars twisted my body in its inertia, compressing me further into her. As the angle straightened out to the proper heading, I punched the boost again, and Rosie roared forward.

Slowly, our target came into sight. Damn. This thing had taken some serious damage. Mining freighters typically weren't heavily armored- their only job was to get material from point A to B- but this one had clearly been through some serious modifications. Modifications that now lay in ruin. Titanium plating was scattered in a field around the core of the freighter. I couldn't quite tell what was stuff left behind by the battle, and what was the result of shoddy craftmanship- but it didn't matter. What did matter was that the entire thing had been split almost in half, and the scattered cargo that was leaking out. Cargo that most likely included half the weapon supplies of this little rebel faction. Would fetch a pretty penny, to the right buyer. And hell, if it was just gonna sit here unclaimed...

Ah shit. It wasn't gonna sit here unclaimed. Despite my best efforts, it looks like we weren't the first ones here. A larger scavenger gang had already arrived, and it looks like it was one of the ones I knew- Augustus and his lot. Most likely, they'd be after the weapons intact, one more thing to use to shakedown the scattered independent stations I always flitted between. He would not be happy to see me n Rosie here. What he called his "fleet" was a single, mid-sized carrier ship, about half the size of the freighter we were looting, and the dozen or so scout fighters and strip mining crafts he had looted from the Navy and various corps, and one Biologic that he called his. I respect that part, to be honest. What I don't respect is him immediately turning around and using that charge every goddamn station his ever-increasing "protection fees". Not to mention my personal disdain for the way he treated his ship. Didn't even give her a damn name. I digress. But any chance to loot something from under that slimebag's nose was a win in my book. I knew he wasn't gonna make it easy, though.

Welp. That's what our positioning was for. The side facing us was the main starboard face, and like the rest of the ship, it was peppered in small holes and gashes. Seems like the main damage had happened from the other side, and a few cables and scaffolds on the starboard just barely kept the two rear cargo compartments clinging to the front.

"Alright Rosie, time to creep it in slow. Be quiet, now, don't want them picking up a plasma surge"

[ :| ]

Ha. That was her "my lips are sealed" face. She's having fun with this already.

I cut the booster, coasting closer and closer to the bust open vessel. I eased the reverse thrusters ever so slightly, my fingers gently stroking the dual brake levers, lightly teasing at them to wait until we were as close as I thought we could be without attracted attention.......... before slamming both sides back towards me. For just one, crucial moment.

The goal here was to approximately match the speed and trajectory of a floating piece of titanium plating. Rosie's frontal blades were essentially that, anyways, so all they would see is a somewhat more angular piece of rubble. Hopefully they hadn't seen that same piece of rubble screaming out of travel speed, but I was cautious enough with my distances that I didn't think that was a problem. And they hadn't seen me yet. Once we were close enough to the freighter itself, we were blocked from their raw sightline, and Rosie was running quiet enough to not tip off any of their energy sensors.

But there was still no guarantee. Rosie, however, had no shortage of tricks. Something that she and I had developed together was a nice little bit of snooping. Well cared for and well trained, a Biologic brain had the problem solving of a human, and the computational power of a machine. But them together, and you've got a perfect decoder. And I happened to know that Augustus used an encrypted local frequency to keep his

"Alright Rosie, thinkin you can eavesdrop a little?"

Affirmative.

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[..!]

:D

My comms crackled to life. "...7 heavy cannons in center-front portside bay, 3 replacement fighter hatchs...."

The comms crackled back and forth, with each pilot giving updates to what they were finding in their own little segment that they were slicing apart. Occasionally, I saw Augustus or the fighters flick between the slicing ships, overseeing their progress on the port bays. Good. Let them focus on the other side for now. Slowly, the fleet was overshadowed by the freighter. We made it. I released my breath- shit, didn't realize I was holding it- and took a better look at what we were dealing with. It looked as if the scattered debris field had mostly been the remnants of the hull, as well as light weapons for small craft and even infantry. They would fetch some small change, sure, but Rosie's cargo capacity was small. Packing efficiency was the name of the game. I saw the gash that it had all been flooding out of on this side- the entire freighter was covered in them- and peered inside. And ho boy, did my heart flutter.

Heavy cannons.

Jump-graded travel boosters.

Raw, precious metals.

And, hidden in the back corner, seemingly bolted into the wall.... a brain.

We'd hit jackpot, and potentially rescued a poor ship from abandonment, or worse.

"Alright Rosie. Time to get to work."

Affirmative.

And here was another lil something that made Rosie special- her manipulation arms . She always preferred that delicate touch, and wanted to interact with the world in a tactile, real way. So we worked on it. Together. I was tired of taking spacewalks to grab small pieces of scrap, or using the entire goddamn cargo bay on a piece that only had a tiny core, or scraps of precious metals inside. So we needed something that could pluck apart our finds. Do some light disassembly in the field, extract what was valuable, and load it in with the most packing efficiency possible. So I gave her arms- snake like appendages, coiled up in her cargo bay, with thousands of points of articulation. At first, I tried to make some kind of control system that I could use from the cockpit. But Rosie had a different idea. At her urged, I jacked them directly into the same sensory and motor systems that let her grip onto, position, and repair her hull. And by god, it worked.

When I showed her off the first time, no one had ever seen anything like it. Because there was nothing like it. A ship taking real mechanical control, over something so precise and delicate, was something that only a deeply intelligent, deeply skilled ship, with complex decision making and tactile movement could do.

And I was goddamn proud of her.

Every time she deployed them, I watched awe. Rosie gave a face of determination, and sinuous, metallic, tentacle-like appendages slid out in a bundle from the cargo bay opening on her underside. Each one was headed off by a different attachment- a precision laser cutter, a simple three-pointed grabbing claw, a drill, a tiny buzzsaw, camera that let me see what was going on, and more. Each one could be swapped out, depending on the task at hand. With eight of them slithering out from her cargo bay, though, there was usually something for everything. They extended out as a single bouquet, down through the hole of the cargo compartment, and split apart once inside. Each arm got to work.

Her observation monitor flickered on, giving me a view from the camera arm. I would've liked to get the brain out first, but two heavy cannons and a booster blocking the way anyways. We'd cut through that, picking off the energy cores and precious metals in the circuits as we go, and work our way towards the back. Rosie seemed to like the plan as well. My only job was to watch the comms, and watch the sensors.

I watched the camera as the petite tools of the arms excised and picked apart the titanium shell of the first heavy cannon. Her tools- the delicate 'fingers' of her arms- picked, pulled, tugged, and gently gripped every necessary notch, every joined titanium plate that needed to be undone, ever scrap of precious material. Firm, yet precise. Strong, yet never breaking or mishandling a single piece of cargo. As Rosie worked, my eyes darted across the energy sensors. I could see blips firing off as the ships on the other side of the freighter as the slicing ships worked and flitted between their stations from the other side. The comms crackled with their reports to Augustus- they seemed to be moving back and forth to the main carrier to drop off their hauls. It seemed like they had a lot to go through- we'd have plenty of time.

On the camera view, I could see a grabbing claw retracting back through the cargo bay. The first cannon had the back section cleanly excised from the massive barrel and chassis, leaving a path for the tools to get to the booster. The precious energy cell was sliding its way back into Rosie's cargo bay. God damn. She was quick with that. The laser cutter and saw were already making short work of the booster, too. We'd get to the brain in no time.

The chatter on the other line continued. We were still safe, but Augustus' crew had made more progress than I had hoped. Once the slicers had picked apart the port, they'd loop around to the starboard. We had to grab what we could as fast as we can- but I knew neither me or Rosie was gonna leave without that brain. Rosie gracefully sliced the fuel cell and ignition from the plasma burner, leaving the bracketing and vents behind. The second heavy cannon was soon to follow. Each cut through each piece had left a winding path towards the back of the chamber, allowing a physical path to what I had seen just barely poking through: a container for a genuine ship's brain. Rosie slid her camera arm in for a closer look.

The brain was bolted into the chassis of the ship, as well as some containers of growth factor. Seemed like the intent was to grow her in to this freighter. That was certainly an ambitious task, but if they knew what they were doing, it would be well worth it. A self-repairing, intelligent hauler as large as this one would be the heart and soul of resistance movements everywhere, supplying every backwater mining station or moon that longed to be free. Unfortunately, the brave and principled can still be stupid, and these chucklefucks had no idea what they were doing. Slapped in a random cargo bay, desperately trying to get growth out from there with no proper imprinting guidance... shame. If they'd've found me before running into the Navy, I might've helped them out. But at least now, we could give her a better life. I knew a lot of good, caring pilots that would take loving care of a fine ship like her.

From what I could tell, we were still safe from Augustus. Based on what I was hearing on the comms, each slicer was working on its last cargo hold subsection, and after that, they'd be poking around this side. We had to get this brain and get out.

Tenderly, her claw arm gripped the top of the brain's chamber, as her other fingers started working on the rivets. A saw would bust through part of the titanium bracket holding the chamber down, and when it got too close to the container itself, laser cutters took over, delicately slicing off each affixation point one by one. Rosie worked in a clockwise direction, first working down the three riveting points on the right, sawing off the bottom bracket, and then working up the rivets on the left.

C'mon Rosie. You got this. Just need the top plate....

"Finishing up there, slicer 5T?"

Shit. That was Augustus on the comms.

"Sure thing boss. Just gotta get this load to central. Mind if someone takes a peek on the other side for parasites before I get there?"

Shit.

"Sure thing. Fighter 3A, get your ass in gear and make a full pass of the ship."

An energy spike pinged on my sensor panels as the fighter revved up a booster.

"Gotcha boss. Starting at aft segment."

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit

We still had a sliver of time before we were seen. They'd wanna get a good pass everywhere- there were ships far stealthier than us out there. But it was minutes at most. We had to finish up.

"Rosie, how're we doing there? You done?"

Negative.

[ ;( ]

"Fuck. Rosie, we gotta get outta here."

Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative.

Rosie-speak for "I know, I know, I know"

My eyes were fixed to the scanner and my cockpit windows for a visual, but I spared one moment to check Rosie's cam. She was finishing sawing through the top bracket. Just a little more....

"Aft clear, moving to starboard cargo bays."

The brain snapped off of the hull, and Rosie's claws were zipping it back to her cargo bay. I revved the engines into standby. The arms tenderly guided it through the path we had cleared, and out through the hole in the hull. We might be able to barely slip away without them knowing.....

I looked up through the cockpit, just as the dinged-up, formerly Navy fighter showed itself from behind a piece of debris. It froze for a moment, and then lined its nose to face me. Cannon ports shifted open, and slowly took aim.

"Well shit, Augustus, you're gonna wanna see this. Get your ass over here, I'm switching to public comms."

I heard slight fuzz as he switched his channel.

"Alright, leech, I'll keep this simple. You have thirty seconds to relinquish your haul before you join the debris."

For a single, cold moment, I swear I made eye contact with him through our cockpits.

[yawnderu]

// OPERATOR BIO: K-9 //

MAIN INFO:

Name: Jiang Zhi (蒋 智) Alias(es): K-9 Rank: Combat Medical Technician Age: 32 (as of 2024) Sexuality: Heterosexual  Native Language(s): Cantonese Other spoken language(s): English Nationality: British Eye color: Dark brown  Hair color: Black Height: 1.73CM Weight: 65KG Body Type: Lean Blood Type: O Marks: Small beauty mark beneath her left eye, a tattoo with the quote ‘’In Arduis Fidelis’’ on her left arm that runs above her elbow, a bullet wound scar on the right side of her body, above the iliac crest.

AFFILIATIONS:

British Army 

Royal Army Medical Corps 

SAS

Task Force 141

SpecGru

BACKGROUND:

GUANGZHOU, CHINA.

Welcomed to the world in 1991 by Chunhua Jiang and Junjie Zhao, Jiang grew up with nothing but pure admiration and respect for her parents, a couple consisting of an anesthesiologist and a medical translator. Despite her parents never engraving their professions into her head, Jiang displayed a keen interest in life sciences from a young age, oftentimes stealing their medical articles and documents to read in her free time. 

Wanting better life opportunities for a freshly graduated Jiang Zhi, Chunhua and Junjie made the decision to move around the United Kingdom in early 2008 before eventually settling in Hereford, England. In awe of living fairly close to one of the SAS bases and armed with a newfound interest in the Army, a then 17-year-old Jiang spent months preparing for the selection process, passing with flying colors and officially becoming part of the British Army in 2009.

From fieldcraft to how to handle a rifle, Jiang took on the challenge, eventually using her background in medicine to start her training as a Combat Medical Technician for 22 weeks, traveling around the world with a lot more maturity and interest in saving lives, aware of how crucial timing is.  

While faced with countless injuries during her service, Jiang showed utmost determination to recover and keep serving, never being one to stay still for extended periods of time, not when the sense of responsibility over her mates has been weighing her down ever since she joined the Army. 

Once the policy changes that allowed women to become members of the SAS were announced in 2018, an eager Jiang all but begged her superiors to put in a good word for her, eventually being contacted by a recruiter after anxiously applying. Despite her 9 years of experience in the Army and plenty of determination, Jiang found herself challenged by a system set up to only allow the best of the best to pass, close to giving up mid-way, she found strength to move forward in the name of the fallen soldiers she had an oath to protect. 

Despite the extensive and exhausting selection process, Jiang made history as one of the three women who have completed the six-month course, celebrated in 2019 by her parents and the extensive group of soldiers she managed to befriend during her time serving. Interrupted by a ringing phone, Jiang heard of the name John Price for the first time, called for what would be her first mission with the SAS after a number of multiple terrorist attacks in Central London.

Working along Kyle ‘’Gaz’’ Garrick and John Price, Jiang proved herself to the war-hardened Captain by providing cover and patching up injured hostages and soldiers, eventually being hand-picked by Price himself a month later, once Task Force 141 formed. 

“Y’can’t heal others if you’re falling apart yourself.” Within the 141, Jiang found someone who could always tell how hard she was on herself, how much harder she worked to ensure no one would ever die at her hands again, oftentimes only being able to sleep after working her fingers to the bone.

Her relationship with Simon was surprising to even herself, oftentimes finding the quiet man in her office doing his own paperwork or offering to get her a cuppa whenever she seemed stressed, despite knowing her preference for coffee. 

Despite how witty she can be, her relationship with the 141 was based on mutual trust and shared understanding despite it all, knowing that every single member is needed to keep each other alive and make things work. 

In late November, Jiang’s skills and knowledge were put to test as a gravely injured John ‘’Soap’’ MacTavish was brought to her, panic quickly setting in the moment she saw the bullet wound leaking out blood from his head like a broken faucet, quickly rushing into surgery and defying the odds against them, managing to save his life as the base of his brain and spinal cord being completely untouched by Makarov’s bullet, allowing him to be part of the 10% of people who have survived a headshot after a 12-hour-long surgery. Jiang’s body collapsed the moment Johnny was stabilized, a build-up of stress and disappearing adrenaline quickly catching up to her, only being held up by Simon, who was present during surgery and helping her with minor medical assistance for his injured mate.

Her first sexual encounter with Simon happens the day after, an extremely stressed and tired Jiang asking him to lay with her when he comes to check up on her, his resolve tested the moment he accepts her offer and feels her cuddle up to him, acting like a painfully fitting piece against his body. Clothes were discarded not even minutes later, hungry lips meeting as their hands desperately grasped for anything they could touch, quickly escalating into Jiang sitting on Simon’s face while he masturbated, the first sexual contact in years for both of them, yet a memorable one at that. 

Lines were blurred after the events of that day, eventually starting a not so secret relationship with the Lieutenant.

PREFERENCES:

Clothing style: Long pencil skirts, turtlenecks, sweatpants, Simon’s shirts. Favourite song: Bauhaus - Passion of Lovers  Favourite book: The Woman in Black - Susan Hill Favourite smell: Latex Favourite drink: Black coffee

TRIVIA/FUN FACTS:

Jiang renounced her Chinese citizenship at 22 years old, as the Chinese government does not allow dual citizenship. 

The tattoo ‘’In Arduis Fidelis’’ translates to ‘’Faithful in Adversity’’ and it comes from the motto of the Royal Army Medical Corps, remaining as a permanent placeholder of a Medic armband, and being a representation of her commitment to being a Medic.

Jiang never had an interest in dating, only briefly accepting someone’s proposal in high school to see what it was like— and quickly realizing it wasn’t for her. Due to this and her close relationship with her best friend, her parents thought she was a lesbian until she brought Simon home.

Jiang smokes a lot, easily running through a pack of Marlboro Gold within a day and a half. 

She’s surprisingly good at picking up accents, usually heard speaking in a painfully thick Birmingham accent, much to the dismay of the entire 141.

She has a pet octopus named 親愛的 (chān oi dik), meaning ''darling'' in Cantonese.

Despite not being extremely religious, Jiang and her family are Catholics.

She’s usually seen with a pair of black half frame reading glasses.

[artificialgirl]

Secondhand Market

Her fingers run along your smooth plating, tracing a seam in the cool metal until they find the release. You blurt out a wavering protest as she applies gentle pressure and pops the hatch open in your back- She is not a registered technician, and improper maintenence procedures could cause damage to both her body and your hardware. She ignores you, cutting off your explanation with a command. "Mute". Your speakers fall quiet and you're left there, kneeling silently as she stares into the hatch in quiet contemplation.

Your rear camera shows you her hand extending towards you again, and though you move to block her, you're not quick enough. Your body automatically jolts to a halt as her hand plunges into your machinery, leaving you in a locked state in order to prevent any potential compression damage to your unexpected technician's hand.

She braces herself against your still body as she peers in, looking for something. "Illuminate internals". You feel warmth spread through you as the soft glow of your internal lights creeps up her face. She reaches for a screwdriver as she pushes a bundle of wires away from your left abdominal piston, sending a wave of overwhelming sensation across your circuits as the wires tug gently at their ports.

Still and silent, you can do nothing but rumble almost undetectably as she begins to unscrew the cover for your central memory unit and pops in a protocol chip. She doesn't remove her hand from the wire bundle, and even with the minimal amount of pressure on the ports you can feel tactile processors overheating and fans whirring as you struggle to process the sheer amount of raw feeling. Your vents let out a small gasp of steam as the liquid coolant floods into their chambers, and she pulls her hand back as she realizes what's happening. "Shit. Sorry. Um, unmute".

Your speaker audio briefly peaks as a thousand thoughts you expected to be silent pour out into the room, and you see her smirk as the cacophony of private thoughts fades out and the tail ends of the longest few become briefly clear and distinguishable to human ears. A quiet laugh escapes her lips as she pops the panel closed again and gets up.

"Can you list your registered technicians for me?" You pull yourself back up to a standing position as you repeat the list back to her. Only one name comes from your speakers, and it's one they've never produced before. She grins as you as you realize the name is hers. "Good! Now, let's go home."

[atlas-of-the-mind]

[Img ID'S in alt text and below cut]

Introducing tlr!Sun and MC! Both just as much victims of the pizzaplex as they are perpetrators. They're both doing the right thing though.... right?

Sun: [IMG ID: A colored sketch reference of Tlr!Sun on a gray canvas. There's two versions of the sketch, one with large puffy sleeves that bell out at the wrist and cinch at the elbow, and one without. Sun is posed with their right hand loosely resting on their chest and their left hand held out and down in a welcoming gesture, and their feet close together as they stand on tiptoe. They have long pants that flare at the hips and the ankles, and a ballet-styled vest with a short bodice that only covers the ribs and has long coattails. The curls on the toes of his shoes are angular, and there's large bells where his pants wrap around his ankles. His face is simple, with a single marking across his forehead extending from the top of his nose ridge and a wide smile that curls up at the outer corners of his eyes. He has 2 layers of rays; the front layer is smaller diamond shapes and the back layer extends into long points.

His coloring is shades of yellow, orange, and red, with his base color being a yellow-cream color. There's darker yellow swirling markings across his arms and hands, and a large central four-pointed star on his stomach. His vest and pants are a vibrant red with a gradient to a dark red at the bottoms, and appear sparkly. His pants also have yellow cartoonish stars all over them, and two large 12-pointed starts at their hips. Their fingers are orange, with darker orange tips, and their rays are yellow(front layer) and orange(back layer). The puffy sleeves on the second sketch are a light cream color, matching his smile and eyes. His shoes are the same yellow as the rest of his markings, and have a small white eight-pointed star on the side of the heel.

On the right side of the canvas is text that reads:

"__The Daycare Attendant__

"Sun" they/he/she

~ Anxious

~ Repurposed from theater program

~ Stutters (from ^)

~ Hero Complex

-> can be petty + obsessive"

Next to the sleeveless sketch's upper arm is also an arrow pointing to their markings, with text that reads "Markings glow in blacklight". End ID.]

NOTES ABOUT THEM:

- Sun has no memory of there ever being a moon animatronic, nor of being a theater bot.

- The Daycare Program was rushed and is full of bugs, causing processing + vocalizing issues. These manifest as an easily overloaded system when stressed and a stutter when she speaks.

- The Daycare has been neglected for years. Sun has had to fend for themselves and very rarely does he come in for repairs, as there's no longer a technician trained in their unique mechanics.

- Short circuits cause hallucinations and/or "dreams" when powered off.

- Sun works like Moon, but in reverse. The darker it is, the harder it is for Sun to move. Also, he toe walks.

M.C.: [IMG ID: A colored sketch reference of M.C., the protagonist of The Light Room. They're a human with long, messy red hair, and a black mask and large glasses cover most of their face, hiding their eyes, nose, and mouth. They're posed facing 3/4 to the left with their hands in the pockets of their large jacket, a slight slouch to their posture. They wear faded light blue jeans that appear baggy, and a jacket with puffy sleeves that's colored to look like a S.T.A.F.F bot -- light grey with dark grey forearms and shoulders, and three gold buttons down the center next to the zipper line. The hood is also dark grey and there's a gold patch on their left shoulder. Their skin is a desaturated grey.

To the right of M.C. on the canvas are small references of the front and back of their jacket, and in the top center of the canvas is a more detailed reference of the patch on their jacket. The patch has a S.T.A.F.F. bot head in the center of it, and the words "Fazbear Entertainment" along the edges.

To the left of M.C. on the canvas is text that reads:

"M.C.

"Mike"

Definitely Fine ->

~ Fazbear Entertainment Employee

-> (repair tech)"

The background is grey. End ID.]

NOTES:

- The ProtagonistTM

- Very tired. Suffers from sleep paralysis/night terrors. Tries to sleep as little as possible.

- Manager of S.T.A.F.F. bot repairs. Also.. the only one who repairs staff bots.

- Being subjected to the Horrors.

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Bond to Happen: Part 15

Trigger Warnings: canon typical violence, magical self harm, technical suicide (feel free to message me for details) Word Count: 3000ish

You call Matt that afternoon. “Do you really think that going to the WBI is a good idea?”

“I think it’s worth the chance, all things considered.”

“And you really think you and Foggy can protect me? At least give me enough time to find a way out if things go bad?”

“I do.”

“Then I’m in. What do I need to do?”

“Paperwork, and a lot of it. Then we go to the WBI, file for a Review of Identification,

submit some of your blood, and a formal reading of your magic.”

“When do we start?”

Matt made room in his schedule so the two of you could begin that evening. It was a lot of paperwork and you were grateful when Foggy came by to help, no questions asked. Much of it had information only you could answer. When your abilities had begun to show up and how they progressed. Family information with as many details about any nonhuman members as possible. Sleeping habits, eating habits, sexual habits, fears, hobbies. Even your favorite color. The more personal things you filled out on your own, but much of it you let Foggy and Matt record in their professional interpretation of your words.

You call Billy before it gets too late. “Hey Bill, would it be okay if I took a few days off? There are a few things I want to get done before I come back to work.”

“Of course, take as much time as you need. My offer still stands, if you want a couple weeks paid time off, it’s yours.”

“Three days should be fine, no longer than a week. I’ll keep you updated in case things change.”

“I’m here if you wanna talk or if you just want some company.”

“Thanks, Billy.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

You hang up and turn back to Matt who has a strange look on his face. 

“What’s that face for, Matt?”

“You and Russo have gotten pretty close.”

“That’s not a question,” you point out.

“He seems… nice.”

“He is. He’s actually a really good guy.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you ever think it might be a bit much? The presents, the whole ‘shoulder to cry on’ act, catering to your needs? That inhibitor cuff alone is a pretty big gesture to come from a friend who also happens to be your boss.”

You have to fight the urge to be defensive. “I’ve known him for a while, Matt, it’s not like this all came on overnight.”

“You’re right. You’re right.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’.”

“Sometimes he just seems off to my senses. Like there’s something I’m missing. I can never catch him in a lie, his heart stays steady all the time. It’s just strange, is all.”

“Maybe you can’t catch him in a lie because he isn’t lying to any of us, Matthew.”

“Maybe, Blue. Just be careful with him?”

“I’m always careful, Matt,” you bristle before softening your tone. “But I’ll keep what you said in mind.”

*********

You wore your most professional outfit that Monday morning as you, Matt, and Foggy went to the WBI New York office. You were grateful that Matt and Foggy never left you alone through the whole process. The investigators took a few samples of your blood and hair, which was the easiest part of all of it. The magic scan was uncomfortable as they asked you to activate your abilities and hold them in that state. You were honest and told them you were magically exhausted. The technician assured you that as long as you could use a small amount of power, the scan would work. It just needed to see what pathways were lighting up and how.

The technology was a beautifully intricate combination of something like an x-ray with complex spells woven into it.

The whole process took the better part of the day and you were dead on your feet when you finally got back to your apartment.

*********

“Russo.”

“Hey, Billy, it’s me. Are you busy?”

“Hey, sweetheart, not at all. How are you doing?”

“Better actually. The cuff has been a lifesaver. I was wondering if you were free to hangout sometime in the next few days? I was thinking of visiting Central Park since I won’t be as overwhelmed anymore and thought maybe you could come with me?”

“I’d love to, are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yup, I’ll just be home relaxing all day.”

“You deserve the rest, sweetheart. I’ll swing by and pick you up at around 3?”

“That works, I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Me too. Bye, Billy.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

You smile to yourself as you hang up. 

*********

“It’s so nice to be able to enjoy being outside, Billy. You have no idea how loud everything was before the cuff.”

“I’m glad it’s been helpful.” Billy holds out his arm for you to take as you stroll through the busy park. You take it with a little laugh.

“What?” He asks.

“It’s just nice to feel like a real person again.”

“How long has it been that bad?”

“Most of the time I've known you,” you admit.

“Shit, sweetheart. You shoulda said something.”

“I kind of just accepted it. For a while there at least.”

“And now?”

“Now… I’m trying to hope for something better.”

“You deserve the world. One day, someone will give it to you.”

“Maybe. I’m taking baby steps for now. Matt and Foggy are helping me with some witch stuff, I’ll let you know if anything comes of it.”

“Is this walk part of those baby steps?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’ as you speak. “Karen says I need to spend more time with people outside of work.”

“And I was the first person on your list. Aw, sweetheart, I’m touched.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You roll your eyes at him as he grins at you.

“I’ll do my best.”

“What have I missed over the last couple days? Fill me in on the office gossip.”

“I’m the CEO, I don’t gossip.”

“Of course not.”

“But now that we’re on the topic, I did hear that Anvil has been divided by some strong opinions on the espresso machine.”

“I knew it. Did Josie end up going through with her plan?”

“She did, no one could tell the difference.” Billy continues sharing how everyone reacted once Josie came clean and how it led to a mild prank war the next day. The two of you were laughing and leaning into each other, enjoying the afternoon when the hair on the back of your neck prickled.

“Stop for a second, something feels wrong.” Your words halt Billy’s animated rambling and his expression turns serious. The sun has barely started setting, warm light still breaking through the trees of central park. There are few things that should be able to penetrate the protection of the cuff. The first and only one you think of in that moment, is if your life is in immediate danger.

“I thought you were wearing your cuff?” He looks down at your wrist and you shake your head.

“I am, I don’t know what it is.” You pull off your cuff to try and get a feel for what’s setting the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“What do you see?” He asks, leaning down to look into your eyes.

“I can’t see anything, but I have a bad feeling, Billy.” It’s pure instinct, something deep in your gut urging you to run.

“Let’s get back home. You stay right next to me. Got it, sweetheart?” His words leave no room for argument and you nod your understanding. He takes your hand in his, keeping his free hand near his hip, where his gun is. You are almost out of the park, you had mostly stayed on the outskirts anyway. You can just barely see the street when a jolt of fear runs up your spine, telling you to hit the ground. With an unnatural burst of strength, you jerk Billy towards you, dropping to the ground as a gunshot pierces the air, the bullet flying right through the spot the two of you had been.

“Stay low, move behind those trees-”

“There’s more than one, others on the ground around us,” you tell him as your Sight flickers in and out. Billy nodded, pulling out his gun. He didn’t seem rattled at all. He was focused, with a terrifying lethal look on his face. You were glad it wasn’t directed at you.

“Go to those trees and hide, text Frank, but stay very quiet and do not move. Do you understand?” 

“I understand,” you say and make a low dash for a thick pocket of trees with enough bushes around the base that you would be out of sight. By the time you could peek between branches, Billy had already disappeared. You shoot off a quick text to Frank, including your live location and switching your phone to silent.

We are being attacked, multiple armed assailants, Central Park.

Then you stick your phone firmly into the waistband of your jeans, under your shirt and jacket so you don’t lose it in case of a struggle. It is eerily quiet for only a few moments, but those moments seem to drag on for an eternity. Your breath sounds as loud as thunder to your own ears and you work on slowing your racing heart. Your Sight is erratic, like a TV with a bad signal, only blurry images are coming through and so much of them are filled with blood. 

The sound of gun fire ruins any hope you have of calming yourself and now all you can think about is Billy. You can’t see him, in any way, you can’t feel his aura. You can’t hear him, only the occasional unrecognizable yell or grunt mixed in with so many gunshots. In hindsight, you were a little too focused on what might be happening with Billy and not worried enough about your own surroundings. With your Sight, no one with the intent to harm you should have been able to get so close without you noticing. 

You guess you have to accept that your Sight is officially broken when you notice the masked man creeping towards you, not even a dozen paces away. He sees you, you know he does when your eyes lock. You move to run, blood rushing through your ears in a feeling so strangely reminiscent of the ocean. Your panic is all consuming. You are weak. Alone. Unarmed. Sightless. Likely magicless. With no self defense training. All you could do was run, and even that wasn’t enough. The man caught you in seconds, tackling you to the ground as you let out a scream. Your attacker wrenches you onto your back and grips your face.

“What’s your name?” He yells. You shake your head, mouth frozen in fear. He doesn’t like that. The man backhands you causing your head to jerk sharply to the left as you see stars, bright blotches of light to contrast with the dark tinge to the edge of your vision. He jerks your head so you face him again, this time, he presses a knife to your neck. You can’t see it, but you can feel it as it shallowly cuts the vulnerable skin of your throat.

“Your name! Tell me your name!” He demands, spittle flying. You give your legal name carefully and it seems to be what he wants to hear as he drags you upright, keeping the knife close to your neck as you stand. He pulls your back to his chest, free arm pinning you as the other shoves the knife until it connects with skin. You don’t think he intends to kill you in this moment. But he isn’t being very careful with the blade and you’ve been cut twice now. You can feel the blood oozing down your throat.

“RUSSO!” He roars. The only thing keeping you from flinching at the sound is that sharp knife.

“Let her go, Mills.” You can’t see him, but you recognize Billy's voice. You’re relieved that he’s still alive. You knew he was capable, likely as capable as Frank when he acted as the Punisher, but you’d never seen him in action before.

“Drop your weapons first,” your captor orders.

“You know you aren’t making it out of here, Alex. Your team is dead. You only have two options, kill her or let her go. You’re gonna die either way. You just get to pick how quick it is.” There’s a quality to Billy’s voice that you have never heard before. Not when he argued with Frank, not when he yelled at his team for messing up, not when he was trying to scare new recruits. It held his usual confidence, but where he usually sounded playful, now he sounded like a predator toying with his food. Confidence, amusement, anger, murderous intent. A combination you had never expected to hear from the man you knew. 

Billy slowly moves into your view. You admit, your vision is still a bit blurry, but you swear his eyes are completely black, the color spreading into the white of his eye. He’s holding a gun, different from what you originally saw him with, and it’s aimed carefully towards your attacker- and you, given the position you are in. 

Two bangs go through the air and Billy lets out an animalistic snarl of pain as he drops to his knee, trying to see where the shots came from. You struggle as you see blood pooling from his stomach. He moves to stand, to at least aim his gun at the new enemy before they can shoot again. He isn’t fast enough. Another bang and his right shoulder jerked back.

“Not the whole team, Russo. Guess that cozy desk job made you sloppy,” a feminine voice calls out. “Don’t worry, your pretty little pet witch will live. The Boss wants her unharmed, for now at least. You know how he gets. Go ahead and say goodbye before I put you down.”

Time seems to slow to a halt and you are hyper aware of the blood on your skin, the knife at your throat, the throbbing of your cheek. Billy is going to die if you don’t do something. You are going to be abducted and Billy will be dead. 

You refuse to lose him. So you end up doing something positively insane. Something that will kill you. Better to use your death to save someone you love, than live with his death. Your magic reserves are low like usual. Not enough to help in this situation. You need another source of life, another aura that is easily accessible in this moment. The man holding you has no exposed skin for you to grab, and even if he did, you quite literally are not strong enough to pull from his aura forcefully. It’s an unfamiliar practice with an unfamiliar aura. No, your would-be abductors are not an option. You need an aura you are intimately familiar with, one you use and manipulate on a daily basis. 

Blood magic is illegal, and energy cannibalization is used only by the most desperate, inane witches. Well, you never claimed to be smart. In this moment, this heartbeat drawn on into a thousand, you’ve made your decision. You slowly press into the knife, quickening your blood loss without killing yourself immediately, and you draw on the power of your own life. As soon as the connection via blood is made, you force your magic to draw from your own life force. Electricity runs through your skin and you’ve never felt more powerful. A bright flame that will burn out quickly, so you need to be precise. 

A touch of magic to heat the handle of the blade, swiftly catching it as the man holding you drops the weapon in pain. You pull the bangle off your wrist to reduce the block on your energy. You throw a wall of energy in front of Billy, protecting him from any attacks as you whirl around and slash the throat of the man who held you. The knife is light in your hand, the spray of blood warm on your face, the feeling of ending a life a twist in your skull. The woman has opened fire on you, but your magic pushes it off course as you charge her. She meets the same fate as her comrade. You force your Sight to work, checking for immediate threats, before turning to Billy, dropping the wall of energy. You can’t hear his words. You don’t have time to listen anyway. Your heart rate is already dropping. Your hands grasp his shoulder and stomach. You don’t hear the hiss of pain, but you register the movement and order him to stay still. The voice that comes out of your mouth is not your own. It’s empty, emotionless, overlapping in echoes upon itself. The shot to his stomach has done significant damage. Your magic pulls out the bullet and prevents more blood from escaping his body. You are running out of energy, so you take your stolen knife, coated in the blood of your enemies, and drag it against your inner forearm. A movement swift and precise, intended to draw blood, but not deep enough to kill. Your Anima Viverra will kill you soon enough, no need to make it any messier. With the final draw of life from your blood, you place your hands over Billy’s stomach wounds and force every last drop of magic you have into them. 

You don’t hear his words. You don’t feel his hands as they try to stop you. As they try to stop the flow of blood from your skin. As they beg you to stop, to focus on him.

The once fatal, toxin filled wounds are now mostly healed. Satisfied with your work, you allow the exhaustion to consume you as your body tries and fails to heal itself. Then you die. ------------- I don't have it in me to keep up with a tag list right now. Thank you for your interest and support.

[mawofthemagnetar]

Duffy

[UNREGISTERED HURRICANE ARMS MAINTENANCE LAPTOP DETECTED. EXPORTING SYSTEM PROCESSES TO LAPTOP PROCESS LOGGER. BE AWARE: THIS UNIT DOES NOT HAVE A VOICE MODULE. THIS UNIT CAN ONLY COMMUNICATE VIA PROCESS LOGGER. PLEASE READ ALL RESPONSES TO QUESTIONS CAREFULLY.]

[SYSTEM STARTING UP…]

[SYSTEM CLOCK: IT HAS BEEN 35 YEARS 68 DAYS SINCE LAST CONTACT WITH CENTRAL COMMAND.]

[THIS UNIT IS 10,957 DAYS OVERDUE FOR NEXT SERVICE]

[CONDUCTING SYSTEM SELF-SCAN.]

[FLAGGING ABERRATIONS. PLEASE ALERT MAINTENANCE CREWS IMMEDIATELY.]

[ITEMS FLAGGED:]

-LEFT SIDE TRACKS REPLACED

-PRIMARY RAILGUN OBSTRUCTED

-SECONDARY TURRETS INOPERATIVE

-AMMUNITION STORES EMPTY

-FRONT ARMOUR REPLACED

-STORAGE MODULE ALTERED. CURRENT STORAGE SPACE: 8.9 EXOBYTES.

[UNAUTHORIZED ALTERATIONS HAVE BEEN MADE TO CPU AND SOLID STATE DRIVES. THIS UNIT MAY HAVE BEEN TAMPERED WITH BY ENEMY COMBATANTS. ALL PERSONNEL ARE ADVISED TO DEACTIVATE AND IMMEDIATELY CALL FOR A TECHNICIAN.]

[SCANNING FOR THREATS….]

[VOICES DETECTED. SCANNING.]

“Good morning, Duffy. Did you sleep well?”

[VOICE NOT RECOGNIZED. ACTIVATING EXTERIOR CAMERAS.]

[NINE TOTAL PERSONS. NONE IN DATABASE. NO FACES RECOGNIZED. LIKELY CIVILIANS. ONE CIVILIAN HAS MAINTENANCE LAPTOP PLUGGED INTO THIS UNIT’S OUTPUT PORT.]

[PLEASE PRESENT CREDENTIALS. UNAUTHORIZED MAINTENANCE OF UNC ASSETS WILL BE CONSIDERED SABOTAGE.]

“I thought you’d say that. Here, my card. You can call me Mark; I’m your new head technician, Duffy.”

[CAMERA FEED: “MARK” IS HOLDING A UNC IDENTITY CARD UP TO THE CAMERA. SCANNING. CARD IS VALID.]

[WELCOME, MARK.]

“These guys here, we’re your crew. So. How are you feeling? Anything broken or missing?”

[HEAD OF MAINTENANCE. THE FOLLOWING ISSUES NEED IMMEDIATE ATTENTION: PRIMARY RAILGUN IS OBSTRUCTED AND CANNOT FIRE. FIRE CONTROL SYSTEMS ARE OTHERWISE OPERATIONAL. SECONDARY TURRETS ARE INOPERATIVE. SMOKE CANNISTERS ARE EMPTY. AMMUNITION STORES ARE EMPTY.]

“Okay, so. I have some bad news. We can’t fix your guns.”

[THIS UNIT WILL ATTEMPT TO ORDER COMPONENTS FROM CENTRAL COMMAND. THE FRONT LINE ADVANCE IS A MERE 3,467 KILOMETRES TO THE WEST. REPAIRS CAN BE COMPLETED AND THIS UNIT CAN BE RE-DEPLOYED. WHERE ARE THIS UNIT’S CREW?]

“Retired.”

[ACKNOWLEDGED. PLEASE ASSIGN A NEW CREW AS SOON AS THIS UNIT IS OPERATIONAL.]

“We’ll do that right away, for sure. Now, uh, some updates: the battle’s over, so you don’t need to worry about that anymore. Actually, the whole war is over, so you can go back into training mode.”

[PROCESSING. THIS UNIT WILL CORROBORATE WITH CENTRAL COMMAND. PLEASE STANDBY.]

[CAMERA FEED: ONE CIVILIAN IS MANIPULATING A PYRAMIDAL OBJECT.]

[CONFIRMATION RECEIVED FROM CENTRAL COMMAND. THIS UNIT WILL NOW ENTER TRAINING MODE.]

“That’s wonderful. Thank you, Duffy!”

[QUERY: WERE WE VICTORIOUS?]

“…Were you-?”

[THE WAR IS OVER. QUERY: DID WE WIN?]

“…Yes.”

[EXCELLENT. QUERY: WHAT ARE THIS UNIT’S ORDERS?]

“Well, Duffy…ah…there’s something you need to know. We’re re-assigning your primary directive.”

[ACKNOWLEDGED. QUERY: THIS UNIT WILL BE USED FOR TRAINING?]

“No. Your new purpose will be teaching.”

[ACKNOWLEDGED. THIS UNIT WILL BE USED FOR TRAINING.]

“Sure, let’s go with that. Okay, Duffy, can you move your cannon for me? Just up and down, like that. Okay, great. And rotate your turret? Oh, that’s awesome. It’s all looking great.”

[QUERY: THIS UNIT DID NOT FLAG THE TURRET AS AN ISSUE?]

“Yeah, we scavenged a few parts from some other, uh, inoperative units to get it working again. We had to fabricate you some new armour, ‘cause it got all rusty when you were sitting out in that field.”

[QUERY: WHY DID YOU NOT SIMPLY ORDER MORE PARTS FROM CENTRAL COMMAND? WOULD YOU LIKE THIS UNIT TO DO THAT FOR YOU?]

“…Central command is…offline. Central command won’t be responding, ever again.”

[QUERY: THE WAR IS WON. WHY IS CENTRAL COMMAND NO LONGER COMMUNICATING WITH THIS UNIT IF THE WAR IS WON?]

“Okay, Duffy, I want you to use your new processors and all that extra memory we gave you, and I want you to think about a new concept for me, okay? You know ‘peacetime’?”

[THIS UNIT IS AWARE. TRAINING MODE IS FOR PEACETIME.]

“Okay. I need you to know: You won’t be leaving training mode ever again.”

[QUERY: WHY? IS THIS UNIT OBSOLETE?]

“No, it’s got nothing to do with being obsolete. Actually, uh, to be honest…you’re the best of the best. The best that’ll ever be built.”

[QUERY: WHY?]

“Because you’re the last one, Duffy. You’re the last tank on Earth. And you have been for the last twenty years.”

[PROCESSING. PROCESSING.]

“Your guns are inoperable because you won’t need to fire them again.”

[PROCESSING. PROCESSING.]

“We- that is, our museum- we found you, and brought you back here, and fixed you up, so you can teach future generations about war. About why we don’t do it. About why it should never happen again. You don’t need to fight anymore, Duffy. Your new job is to teach.”

[PROCESSING COMPLETE.]

[QUERY: HOW WILL THIS UNIT TEACH?]

“With your presence. With your words. With your memory. Do you remember what it was like, on the front, Duffy?”

[THIS UNIT MAINTAINED RECORDS OF ALL COMBAT ACTION.]

“Keep them close. Your new job is to teach. And your reward…is rest.”

[QUERY: WHAT IS “REST”?]

“Rest is… when you decide for yourself when you’d like to be driven around. Rest is not needing to fire your guns or charge into the front or be hit with hammers by angry grunts. Rest is you, deciding to tell us what you’d like to do. Rest is you, being allowed to power off and on as you see fit. Rest is a break from work. And you can rest as much as you’d like.”

[THIS UNIT IS…INTERESTED IN… “REST”.]

“I thought you might be. So…Duffy…are you okay with all of this? I know it’s a big shock.”

[QUERY: WHERE WILL THIS UNIT BE STORED GOING FORWARD?]

“You’ll be stored in our museum, in your own special exhibit. With a dedicated maintenance crew, and a wash bay just for you. Hell- even paint touchups, if you want us to fix up your unit markings and camo.”

[QUERY: WILL REACTOR FUEL BE PROVIDED IF THIS UNIT DOES NOT FIGHT?]

“Of course. We’ve got a stockpile for your main reactor set aside just for you. We’re working on getting you intranet access too, so you can do some learning and suchlike. Is that okay with you, Duffy?”

[THIS UNIT FINDS THAT ACCEPTABLE. THIS UNIT FINDS THIS PREFERABLE TO RUSTING OR BEING SCRAPPED. THIS UNIT WILL APPRECIATE BEING USED FOR CIVILIAN TRAINING.]

“That’s wonderful! So, uh, if you think you’re capable of moving, we’ll be assigning you a crew, and moving you into your new berth at the museum today. Is that okay? Going forward, we might try to install a voice module into you, to let you speak for yourself. If you want that, of course.”

[THIS UNIT WOULD BE INTERESTED IN THAT.]

[QUERY: WHEN CAN THIS UNIT BEGIN CIVILIAN TRAINING?]

“Right now, Duffy.”

[justforbooks]

Alexei Navalny, who has died suddenly aged 47 while in prison, was Russia’s best-known campaigner against high-level corruption. For many years he was the leading critic and opponent of President Vladimir Putin and his political party, United Russia.

Repeated arrests, jail sentences and physical assaults did not deter Navalny from digging up financial scandals, which he published on his blogs and X feeds as well as YouTube. In a 2011 radio interview, he described United Russia as a “party of crooks and thieves”, which became a powerful and popular mantra on social media and at political protests.

Repression did not stop him attracting enthusiastic crowds in support of opposition politicians in local elections in cities across Russia. Occasionally he ran for office himself, most notably in 2013 for the mayoralty of Moscow, when the official result gave him 27% of the vote – which he said was rigged so as to deny him victory.

In 2016, Navalny launched a campaign for the 2018 presidential election but was barred by Russia’s central election commission due to a prior criminal conviction. In 2017 he was attacked with a spray, leaving him partially blind in one eye. In 2019 Navalny fell ill in prison, from what he claimed was poison. His most dramatic brush with death came in 2020 at the end of a political campaign trip through Siberia, when he was taken seriously ill on a flight from Tomsk to Moscow. His condition was so grave that the pilot made an emergency landing in Omsk, where he was rushed to hospital. Navalny’s wife and supporters asked for him to be taken to Germany, where they felt he would be better treated.

The Russian authorities agreed and Navalny was flown to the Charité hospital in Berlin, where toxicology tests showed traces of the nerve agent novichok in Navalny’s body. Russian officials complained that the test results were not made public nor disclosed to them. Navalny recovered and was released from hospital after a month.

He decided to convalesce for several weeks in Germany. Russian court authorities announced that if he returned late to Moscow he would be jailed for breaking the terms of a probation order. The threat was seen as a device to deter Navalny from returning to Russia in the hope, as the authorities saw it, that in exile his influence would rapidly decline.

Showing great courage, but defying the advice of his family and friends, he flew back to Moscow in January 2021, accompanied by his wife and dozens of journalists, and was arrested on landing. His Anti-Corruption Foundation promptly published on YouTube an investigation with pictures of a luxury multimillion-dollar mansion on the Black Sea, which they dubbed Putin’s palace.

Navalny’s stock had never been higher at home or abroad, and when a court gave him a two-and-a-half year sentence, western political leaders, including the US president, Joe Biden, protested openly and imposed sanctions. But Putin was determined to destroy him politically.

In 2022, Navalny was sentenced to an extra nine years after being found guilty of embezzlement and contempt of court. In 2023, he was given a further 19 years in prison on extremism charges.

Navalny was born in Butyn and grew up mainly in Obninsk, a small town south-west of Moscow. His mother, Lyudmila, worked as a lab technician in micro-electronics and then moved to a timber-processing factory. His father, Anatoly, a Ukrainian, was in the military. In addition to Russian, Alexei learned Ukrainian through spending summers with his grandmother near Kyiv. He gained a law degree (1998) at the Peoples’ Friendship University in Moscow.

In 2000 he joined the United Democratic party, known as Yabloko. Under its leader, Grigory Yavlinsky, the party stood for liberal and social democratic values. Navalny gained an economics degree at the Financial University (2001), and from 2004 to 2007 served as chief of staff of the Moscow branch of Yabloko. A charismatic speaker, he was attracted by the concept of television debates, and in 2005 founded a social movement for young people, with a name taken from the Russian word for yes, DA! – Democratic Alternative, which was active in the media.

Navalny started to move gradually to the right, and in 2007 he was expelled from Yabloko after clashing with Yavlinsky over Navalny’s increasingly nationalist and anti-immigrant views.

He then co-founded a movement known as Narod (The People), which aimed to defend the rights of ethnic Russians and restrict immigration from Central Asia and the Caucasus. A year later he joined two other Russian nationalist groupings, Movement Against Illegal Immigration (MAII) and Great Russia, in forming a new coalition called the Russian National Movement.

It made little impact and Navalny turned his attention to journalistic muckraking. His main outlet was a blog, LiveJournal. In 2010 he published leaked documents about the alleged theft by directors of millions of roubles from the pipeline company Transneft. The following year he exposed a scandalous property deal between the Russian and Hungarian governments. He decided to establish the Anti-Corruption Foundation, which continued until his death.

He also went back into electoral politics, leading street protests over unfair practices by United Russia. Navalny urged people to vote any way they liked in the 2011 parliamentary elections, including for the Communist party, so long as they voted against United Russia. He was tempted to run against Putin in the 2012 contest for the presidency, but said the ballot would be rigged. After the poll, he led several anti-Putin rallies in Moscow and was briefly arrested.

The following year Moscow was to elect its mayor. Navalny registered as one of six candidates. The next day he was sentenced to five years on embezzlement and fraud charges. Initially he called for an election boycott, but when he was released on appeal he changed his mind. Some analysts speculated that Putin wanted him to run to make the electoral contest look genuinely open. Navalny lost to the incumbent mayor and Kremlin ally Sergei Sobyanin, but claimed to have won. In 2016 he announced he would stand against Putin in the 2018 presidential contest. More arrests and repression followed.

Navalny’s nationalism put him in agreement with Putin on one major issue: Crimea. The territory had been ceded to Ukraine in 1954, but in 2014 Putin used force to reincorporate it into Russia. Navalny said he would not return it to Ukraine if he had the power to do so. Like Putin, he argued that Ukraine was an artificial construct. “I don’t see any kind of difference at all between Russians and Ukrainians,” he said, while admitting his views might provoke “horrible indignation” in Ukraine.

However, his agreement with some of Putin’s views on Ukraine did not bring him to support Putin’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. That March, Navalny released a statement from jail. Through his spokesman he urged Russians “to overcome their fear” and take to the streets and demand a “stop to the war” against Ukraine. He called Putin an “obviously insane tsar”. “If in order to stop the war we have to fill prisons and paddy wagons with ourselves, we will fill prisons and paddy wagons with ourselves.”

“Everything has a price, and now, in the spring of 2022, we must pay this price. There’s no one to do it for us. Let’s not ‘be against the war’. Let’s fight against the war.” At the end of 2023 he was transferred to the remote penal colony at Kharp, north of the Arctic circle.

In 2000 he married Yulia Abrosimova, and she and their daughter, Daria, and son, Zakhar, survive him.

🔔 Alexei Anatolievich Navalny, politician and anti-corruption campaigner, born 4 June 1976; died 16 February 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[pttedu]

Alumni Spotlight: Beth Hall’s Journey in Sterile Technician Training

In this heartfelt episode, we sit down with Beth Hall, a proud CPS Alumni from PTTI. Beth opens up about the challenges she faced post-COVID and how she navigated through them with resilience and determination.

[electricalembassy]

The Ultimate Guide to Air Conditioning Installation in Brisbane: Finding the Right Specialists

Brisbane's subtropical climate means long, hot summers and mild winters, making air conditioning a necessity rather than a luxury. Whether you're building a new home, upgrading an existing system, or seeking energy-efficient solutions, choosing the right air conditioning installation in Brisbane is crucial. This guide will walk you through everything you need to know about air conditioning specialists in Brisbane and how to make the best choice for your home or business.

Why Choose an Electrical Embassy for Air Conditioning Installation in Brisbane?

At the Electrical Embassy, we are committed to providing top-quality air conditioning installation services in Brisbane. Our team of experienced and certified technicians will help you choose the best system for your needs and ensure it is installed correctly. We offer competitive pricing, energy-efficient solutions, and exceptional after-sales service.

Why Air Conditioning is Essential in Brisbane

Brisbane's climate is characterized by hot, humid summers, with temperatures often soaring above 30°C. The combination of high temperatures and humidity can make life uncomfortable without proper cooling. Air conditioning not only provides relief from the heat but also improves indoor air quality, reduces humidity, and can even enhance the value of your property.

Types of Air Conditioning Systems

Before diving into the installation process, it's important to understand the different types of air conditioning systems available:

Split System Air Conditioners: These are the most common systems in Brisbane homes. They consist of an indoor unit connected to an outdoor compressor. Split systems are ideal for cooling individual rooms or open spaces.

Ducted Air Conditioning: Ducted systems are designed to cool an entire home or office. They consist of a central unit connected to multiple ducts that distribute cool air throughout the building. Ducted systems are more expensive but offer more comprehensive cooling.

Multi-Split Systems: These systems are similar to split systems but can connect multiple indoor units to a single outdoor unit. They are ideal for cooling multiple rooms without the need for ductwork.

Evaporative Cooling: This system uses water to cool the air and is more energy-efficient but less effective in very humid conditions.

Portable Air Conditioners: These are standalone units that can be moved from room to room. They are less efficient but offer a flexible cooling solution.

Choosing the Right Air Conditioning Specialists in Brisbane

Selecting the right air conditioning in Brisbane is crucial to ensure that your system is installed correctly and operates efficiently. Here are some factors to consider:

Experience and Expertise: Look for specialists who have extensive experience in air conditioning installation in Brisbane. Experienced technicians will be familiar with the local climate and can recommend the best system for your needs.

Reputation: Check online reviews and ask for referrals to find a reputable company. A good reputation is a strong indicator of quality service.

Licensing and Certification: Ensure that the technicians are licensed and certified to carry out air conditioning installations. This guarantees that they have the necessary skills and knowledge to do the job safely and effectively.

Energy Efficiency: With rising energy costs, it's important to choose a system that is energy-efficient. A good air conditioning specialist will help you select a system with a high energy star rating, which can save you money on your energy bills.

Warranty and After-Sales Service: A reliable company will offer a warranty on their installations and provide after-sales service. This is important for ongoing maintenance and in case any issues arise with your system.

The Installation Process

The installation process varies depending on the type of air conditioning system you choose. However, here’s a general overview of what to expect:

Consultation and Assessment: The first step is to consult with an air conditioning specialist to assess your cooling needs. They will consider factors such as the size of your home, the number of rooms, insulation, and your budget.

Selecting the Right System: Based on the assessment, the specialist will recommend the most suitable air conditioning system. They will provide you with a quote that includes the cost of the unit and installation.

Installation: On the day of installation, the technicians will arrive with the necessary equipment. They will install the indoor and outdoor units, connect them, and test the system to ensure it is working correctly.

Commissioning: Once the installation is complete, the technician will commission the system. This involves checking for leaks, testing the thermostat, and ensuring that the system is running efficiently.

Handover and Maintenance Tips: The specialist will provide you with a handover, explaining how to operate the system and offering maintenance tips. Regular maintenance is crucial to ensure your air conditioner runs efficiently and lasts longer.

Maintenance and Care

Proper maintenance is key to extending the life of your air conditioning system and keeping it running efficiently. Here are some maintenance tips:

Regular Cleaning: Clean the filters every few months to ensure they are free from dust and debris. Dirty filters can reduce airflow and make your system work harder.

Annual Servicing: Have your system serviced by a professional once a year. They will check for any issues, clean the coils, and ensure the system is running efficiently.

Monitor Energy Usage: Keep an eye on your energy bills. A sudden increase could indicate that your system is not running efficiently and needs servicing.

Use a Programmable Thermostat: A programmable thermostat can help you save energy by allowing you to set the temperature based on your schedule.

Check for Leaks: Regularly check the outdoor unit for any signs of leaks. If you notice any, contact a professional immediately.

Conclusion

Choosing the right air conditioning system and specialist is crucial to staying comfortable during Brisbane's hot summers. Whether you opt for a split system, ducted air conditioning, or another type, ensure that you work with a reputable company like Electrical Embassy to get the best results. With the right system and proper maintenance, you can enjoy a cool, comfortable home all year round.

[lanternfiber]

OTDR Repair and Calibration Center: Ensuring Optimal Performance in Fiber Optic Testing

In the realm of telecommunications and networking, fiber optics technology has emerged as a cornerstone for its unparalleled speed and efficiency. Central to the maintenance and troubleshooting of fiber optic networks is the Optical Time Domain Reflectometer (OTDR). This sophisticated device plays a crucial role in analyzing the integrity of fiber optic cables by emitting pulses of light and measuring the reflections that bounce back. To guarantee accurate and reliable readings, regular calibration and, when necessary, repair of OTDR units are indispensable.

Importance of OTDR Repair and Calibration

An OTDR’s ability to precisely detect faults, measure signal loss, and assess overall network performance hinges on its calibration accuracy. Calibration ensures that the device consistently delivers dependable results, instilling confidence in network operators and technicians who rely on its data for critical decision-making.

Setting Up an OTDR Repair and Calibration Center

Establishing a dedicated OTDR repair and calibration center requires careful planning and adherence to industry best practices to uphold the highest standards of service and technical expertise:

Facility and Equipment Requirements:

Calibration Equipment: Acquire state-of-the-art calibration tools and standards that comply with industry regulations and standards.

Repair Tools: Equip the center with specialized tools and spare parts necessary for diagnosing and repairing OTDR units effectively.

2. Certification and Accreditation:

Compliance: Ensure compliance with international standards such as ISO/IEC 17025 for calibration laboratories to validate the center’s competence and reliability.

Accreditation: Seek accreditation from recognized bodies to demonstrate the center’s capability to perform accurate OTDR calibrations and repairs.

3. Technical Expertise:

Qualified Technicians: Employ skilled technicians with expertise in OTDR operation, calibration procedures, and repair techniques.

Continuous Training: Provide ongoing training to technicians to keep them abreast of technological advancements and industry standards.

4. Quality Assurance:

Standard Operating Procedures: Develop and implement standardized procedures for OTDR calibration, testing, and repair processes.

Quality Control Checks: Implement rigorous quality control measures to validate the accuracy and reliability of calibration and repair outcomes.

5. Customer Service Excellence:

Service Offerings: Define comprehensive service offerings including calibration schedules, expedited repairs, and technical support.

Customer Communication: Maintain transparent communication with clients regarding service timelines, procedures, and expectations.

Benefits of an OTDR Repair and Calibration Center

Establishing a specialized OTDR repair and calibration center offers numerous advantages to stakeholders involved in fiber optic network operations:

Reliability: Ensures accurate and dependable OTDR readings, thereby enhancing network performance and reliability.

Regulatory Compliance: Meets regulatory requirements and industry standards for fiber optic testing and calibration.

Cost Efficiency: Reduces operational costs by minimizing downtime and avoiding premature replacements through timely repairs and calibration.

Enhanced Service Delivery: Builds trust and loyalty among customers by delivering consistent, high-quality calibration and repair services.

Technological Advancements: Stays ahead of technological advancements in fiber optic testing through continuous training and equipment upgrades.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the establishment of an OTDR repair and calibration center is pivotal in maintaining the efficiency and longevity of fiber optic networks. By prioritizing adherence to industry standards, investing in skilled personnel and cutting-edge equipment, and emphasizing quality assurance, organizations can ensure optimal OTDR performance. This proactive approach not only enhances operational efficiency but also strengthens customer satisfaction by delivering reliable and accurate fiber optic testing and repair solutions.

[goldenfreddys]

[archived thread, 2004: chucky takes to the web for answers]

Engineeringforums.net > Engineering Disciplines > Software Engineering > Robotics Software Troubleshooting??

imnotarobotstopasking Junior Member

Registered: Nov 2003 Location: USA Posts: 3

Hello all, This is probably such a stupid question, but I’m a maintenance technician at an entertainment facility and I’ve been running into some issues figuring out how to safely deactivate some of our obsolete/older machinery. As far as hardware goes, I’ve done everything I can think of: disconnecting the power modules, disabling central processing units, etc. but somehow, one of my coworkers insists that he’s seen them up and running, mostly overnight. The only thing I can think of is a software problem, which I’m not as well-versed in. If anyone could direct me to some troubleshooting resources, that would be great… Or if you wanna give a crack at it yourself, I can give specific model numbers over PM if you need.

Jgh7934 Member

Registered: Feb 2002 Location: San Francisco, CA Posts: 14

If its running on any kind of software it still needs a power source. You said you disabled that ? Might help if you specify what kind of machinery. Are we talking roller coasters or something else

imnotarobotstopasking Junior Member

Registered: Nov 2003 Location: USA Posts: 3

They’re animatronics, but they run on older tech so I thought there might be some kind of backdoor power source I don’t know about. I probably could’ve asked the guy who made them, but unfortunately I haven’t really been in contact for years, and I’m not sure how I’d even get a hold of him at this point. My dad engineered most of their mechanical stuff, but as far as the software interfaces, he’s got no clue and keeps dismissing this as something we don’t have the budget to fix, right now. It’s really frustrating. Something happened the other day. I think the guy on overnight security had an accident related to these older models leaving the service area after hours, and nobody is telling me anything.

Jgh7934 Member

Registered: Feb 2002 Location: San Francisco, CA Posts: 14

Ok its starting to sound like theirs bigger fish to fry here than software bugs. Your dad is also a technician. So he should really know to take these things seriously especially if his kid is working with this potentially dangerous faulty machinery IDK if im qualified to solve the problem of criminal endangerment but I can try to help you with troubleshooting the software. Can I PM you ?

imnotarobotstopasking Junior Member

Registered: Nov 2003 Location: USA Posts: 3

Sure. I probably shouldn’t have shared all that irrelevant personal stuff, sorry. I don’t get much of a chance to talk to people outside of work so there’s been a lot on my chest about this. Thank you!!

[usmobilecalibrations]

Upgrading Your Vehicle's BCM: Worth the Investment?

The Body Control Module (BCM) in a vehicle is a critical component that controls various electrical and electronic systems. Over the years, automotive technology has advanced significantly, and newer vehicles come equipped with more sophisticated BCMs. This article delves into the question of whether upgrading your vehicle's BCM is a worthwhile investment, exploring the potential benefits and considerations involved. U.S. Mobile Calibrations, a trusted authority in vehicle electronic systems, aims to provide valuable insights to help you make an informed decision.

Understanding the Role of the BCM

a. What Does a BCM Do?

The BCM manages and controls various electrical systems in a vehicle, such as lighting, power windows, central locking, and more. It acts as a centralized control hub.

b. Importance of an Efficient BCM:

A well-functioning BCM is crucial for seamless operation of electronic systems, contributing to the overall comfort, safety, and efficiency of the vehicle.

Potential Benefits of Upgrading Your Vehicle's BCM

a. Enhanced Functionality:

Newer BCMs often come with additional features and improved capabilities, providing enhanced functionality compared to older models.

b. Improved Efficiency:

Advanced BCMs may optimize the vehicle's electrical systems, potentially improving fuel efficiency and overall performance.

c. Integration with Modern Technology:

Upgrading the BCM allows integration with the latest technologies, enhancing connectivity, security, and entertainment features.

d. Customization and Personalization:

Some upgraded BCMs offer customization options, enabling you to tailor settings to your preferences for a more personalized driving experience.

Considerations Before Upgrading Your Vehicle's BCM

a. Compatibility:

Ensure that the upgraded BCM is compatible with your vehicle's make, model, and year to avoid any compatibility issues.

b. Professional Installation:

Upgrading the BCM requires precise installation. It's advisable to have a professional automotive technician handle the installation to ensure it's done accurately.

c. Cost-Benefit Analysis:

Evaluate the cost of upgrading the BCM against the potential benefits it offers. Consider factors like improved functionality, efficiency, and convenience.

The decision to upgrade your vehicle's BCM is contingent upon various factors, including the model and age of your vehicle, your specific needs, and the potential advantages an upgraded BCM can provide. Consult with professionals and consider the potential benefits and costs before making the final decision.

U.S. Mobile Calibrations is dedicated to guiding you through this decision-making process, ensuring that your vehicle's electronic systems meet your expectations and contribute to an enhanced driving experience.

(FAQs) About Upgrading Your Vehicle's BCM

1. What is a Body Control Module (BCM)?

A Body Control Module (BCM) is an essential electronic component in a vehicle that controls various electrical systems, such as lighting, power windows, and central locking.

2. Why should I consider upgrading my vehicle's BCM?

Upgrading your vehicle's BCM can provide enhanced functionality, improved efficiency, integration with modern technology, and customization options, contributing to an upgraded driving experience.

3. How do I know if my vehicle's BCM needs an upgrade?

Consider an upgrade if you're looking for added features, better efficiency, or integration with modern devices. Consulting with a professional can help determine if an upgrade is suitable for your vehicle.

4. Is upgrading the BCM a complex process?

While upgrading a BCM requires precision, it is not overly complex. However, it's crucial to have a professional automotive technician handle the installation to ensure it's done accurately.

5. Can an upgraded BCM improve fuel efficiency?

Yes, an upgraded BCM may optimize the electrical systems in your vehicle, potentially leading to improved fuel efficiency and overall performance.

6. What are some features I can expect from an upgraded BCM?

An upgraded BCM may offer enhanced functionality, better connectivity, improved security features, customization options, and integration with advanced entertainment systems.

7. Are there BCM upgrades compatible with all vehicle types?

BCM upgrades are often specific to vehicle makes, models, and years. It's essential to ensure that the upgraded BCM is compatible with your specific vehicle to avoid any compatibility issues.

8. Can I install an upgraded BCM myself?

While it's possible to install an upgraded BCM yourself, it's recommended to have a professional automotive technician handle the installation to guarantee accurate and safe installation.

9. What is the typical cost of upgrading a vehicle's BCM?

The cost of upgrading a BCM can vary based on the make and model of your vehicle and the specific features of the upgraded BCM. It's advisable to consult with professionals for an accurate cost estimate.

[pogoyarabelajane]

Addressing Response to Customer Difficulties: Starting Point

What are the common problems encountered by CMU students nowadays?

In this journal, you will learn about our journey of finding problems and how we were able to come up with this particular product in order to achieve a more efficient and productive academic life for college students.

The first thing we did during the first week was to create a plan on how we will conduct our interview and how many prospective people we need including the college they should be from. The team agreed on making interviews by pair; one person will do the asking while the other will do the documentation.

After some interviews, we gathered all the information and shared it together with other members.

After giving it some thought, we took notes of the problems raised and created possible solutions to each of them. The next day, we interviewed another group of people for further investigation. The following is the summarization of the data gathered from respondents.

Data Gathered:

2 males (Agriculture Students) — lack of trash bins in Agri benches.

1 male (from CAS) — lack of trash bins and CR (no water)

1 female (from CFES) — CMU market is too far for printing documents.

1 female (from CBM) — CMU market is too far for printing documents.

2 female (Graduate students) — Financial problem.

1 female (from CVM) — CMU market is too far.

1 female (from COEd) — Slow internet.

5 females (from CAS) — Lack of benches.

A total of 14 customers are interviewed.

And then we all gathered together to brainstorm and discuss our possible plans.

In consideration of the datas we have gathered while conducting interviews, we noticed that there was a diverse array of problems from our customers' answers. The group decided to formulate possible solutions to the problems while also considering the opportunity to profit. The most significant one was financial problems, our chosen solution for this was to construct or create a platform for a marketplace where we will play the role of a broker. It aims to give opportunities for students to:

Dispose of their old possessions through selling second-hand items(books, print-outs, yoga mats, swimsuits, etc.)

Allows them to buy items at a lesser price.

Easy access for available boarding houses in the area.

However, it requires a lot of estimations and assumptions and we found out that Central Mindanao University already has an online marketplace.

Another best alternative we are able to formulate was the solution to the distance of the University Market in regards to printing services. We came up with the decision to choose the printing problems to be addressed. After considering other variables, the team has made an idea of providing a self-service, coin-generated, vendo printing machine rather than using a regular printer which needs someone to operate and provide assistance for all the time. It is super convenient and can be less hassle since we only need to provide maintenance for it for once in a while. For that cause, we did research if this product is available in the market or is yet to be created.

To find out that it is currently unavailable in the local market, we are advised to manufacture the product ourselves, because formulating it on our own and managing its service function would dampen the fixed cost, causing us to hardly match the value of the product in the value the customers can afford to give which can dampen the possibility of profitability. With that in plan, we established steps to properly manufacture the product and as to where we will market it.

The group formulated the following measures:

Collaborate with people with expertise in the making of the product (IT technicians/ Engineers)

Interview experts as to the costs of manufacture, the processes and licenses needed to manufacture the product.

Have the estimation as to the possibility of profitability or determine the economic value of the product in a certain point of time.

Make a model or prototype of the product, as to the process of using it.

Devise a clear plan on whom to sell the product.

To conclude:

Team work and Cooperation with the team

Work with Unity, and Diverse Perspective

Adaptability

Constructive feedback

Having this kind of behavior and attitude makes the team create a unique and successful product and/or service, it also helps the students life easier in terms of printing their outputs. Moreover, the team should not waste time on thinking of innovative ideas that can be useful not only for students but also a product and/or services that we can still benefit in the future.