#sending out signals into outer space

[flamingpudding]

Summoning Gone Wrong

Ties to: Ouija Board Prompt and Ghost Hunting Vigilantes Part 1 / Part 2

A/N: Thanks to @lazy-alex for commenting the base idea in Ghost Hunting Vigilantes for Tim trying to do a summoning that just goes wrong~

Danny calmly sipped the ecto-tea and resisted eyeing the ghost club Lady Gotham had placed next to her as she also drank her tea with all the elegance the spirit possessed. The Ghost King was pretty sure she had placed it like that, in his view, on purpose. He just wasn't sure if it was as a warning or as a preparation since the last couple of times he had been in Gotham, she had felt the need of using it against him.

"I am very glad that you are finally looking into that matter, your highness." The spirit commented, placing the cup back onto the table and refilling it. "I wasn't sure if you had been made aware of it before, if I had known that the old beings had not mentioned it to you before I certainly would have sooner."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, about that. What are these Lazarus Pits anyway? Clockwork only told me to look out for the color green, which is not helpful. And Pandora started on an entire history lesson regarding Lazarus and I am pretty sure that has nothing to do with these Pits your 'knights' mentioned."

Lady Gotham chuckled amused with mirth in her eyes. "They are only known as Lazarus Pits in the human world, my king, not in the Infinite Realms."

"So what…" Danny couldn't finish his question as his ghost sense went off. He really wanted to slam his head into the table. It had been months since his senses went off like that and he hoped it was just Cujo who followed him or Fright Knight. But as no one appeared to interrupt them, he got ticked off because that meant it was one of his former rogues who was up to something. He excused himself from his discussion with Lady Gotham who appeared even more amused than before.

Whoever it was he would send them straight back to the Ghost Zone, they were interrupting some important kingly business here!

A little earlier not too far away from the ghostly discussion, by a recent regularly vigilante visited occult site, three vigilantes stood before a summoning cycle.

Red Robin was crouching by the circle, chalk in hand as he drew runes and symbols on the ground all according to one of his research papers that summed up all the information he had gathered. Including information he had obtained from the Justice League Dark, mainly Constantine since the man owned him and wouldn't just tell on him, behind Batman's back.

It had been weeks since their last encounter with the teenage ghost. He didn't want to admit it but Red Robin was getting worried about the ghost. Both times when they left they sounded like something was hunting or hurting them and last time there was even that green swirly thing they saw for a short moment right after they had heard the ghost say their goodbyes with an actual voice. Besides, that ghost was a mystery to them and Red Robin wasn't known to leave any sort of mystery they encountered unsolved.

"Should we really do this without B?" Nightwing asked, eyeing the strange symbols the youngest among them was drawing on the ground.

"Fuck him. If we get him involved we wouldn't be doing this at all." Red Hood added crossing his arms. "I am more surprised that its only us three this time. I would have bet that at least one of the others would have joined too."

"Baby Bat is out on a mission with B. Spoiler and Orphan are on a outer space mission and Signal has an exam tomorrow." Nightwing shrugged. "It's probably better form Robin not to be here. He was pretty spooked after the last two times."

"Ha! Spooked? The kid is dead set on Pit Demons trying to kill us."

"We can't comple-"

"Finished the writing." Red Robin cut in dusting his gloves from chalk, he was still kneeling on the ground as he turned to the older two vigilantes holding his hands out expectantly. "Nightwing, you brought the candles?"

The vigilante in question handed over a plastic back with the label of a gas station. Red Hood titled his head in question, indicating that he was raising an eye brow under his helmet. The elder only shrugged sheepishly as Red Robin stared at the colorful duck candles it contained.

"I forgot you asked me to buy some and went last minute to the late night open counter gas station. They only had these colorful duck candles."

"Well our fucking ghost has some Humor. Might work better for them then."

Red Robin only sighed but still placed the candles in the circle the way Constantine had described to him. "We will have to see if this will work."

He had made sure to also draw up a protective circle around the summoning one just like Zatana had instructed and Constantine had insisted he would need. Lighting up the candles he stepped back next to his brothers.

"So according to Constantine, we are now supposed to recite a summoning spell and think about the ghost we talked to before to call them back to us."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"So…" Red Robin distributed a piece of paper to each of his brothers. "We start on three."

"One…."

"Wait let me read that shit first!"

"Two…"

"Slow down, little bird."

"Three."

The three of them definitely were not in sync. Nightwing struggled with some of the words while Red Hood ended up mixing in some chosen curse words when he stumbled over a word. Red Robin even though he had practiced before still struggled with some of the words also but still all three managed to get through the incarnation.

They waited with their breaths held for something to happen but the seconds ticked by, with nothing happening. After three minutes Red Robin let out a sigh, deciding that this was a failure.

Just as he was about to step up to the circle to blow out the candles, a green swirling portal like the one he had briefly seen last time opened on the ground where the summoning circle was and a figure rose up from it. The figure was entirely dressed in white with black gloves, boots, belt and hat. Their skin was just as white as the clothes they were wearing and the being was staring back at them with completely green eyes, no irises or pupils. They stood firmly and straight in the summoning circle, arms crossed behind their back and by the way they were holding themself appeared like an authority figure.

"That doesn't look like a 16 years old ghost." Red Hood commented, his hand resting on his gun holder as he stared down their summon.

"Red, you did follow all the instructions right." Nightwing asked his hands, also moving to take out his escrima sticks, eying the being that was now looking at them in what he assumed was contempt.

"Yes, I did." Turning to their summon the vigilantes eyed it carefully. "Hi, sorry about the sudden summon. You obviously aren't the 16 years old ghost we had been talking to before. So uhm, you are free to go again? Unless you happen to know a 16 year old ghost that had been to Gotham at least two times now?"

The summoned being didn't look like they were going to answer, instead they took out a green glowing book that had 'RULES' written on it and leafed through the pages. Stopping when it apparently found a certain page. Their eyes focusing on the page then back at them. Still not grazing them with an answer. Red Robin however noticed how their inclined their head, for a short moment, over to Red Hood before turning back to the book and turning a couple of more pages.

He hadn't been the only one as he felt Nightwing tensing next to him too as well as heard the soft click of Red Hood removing the safety from his gun.

"Unauthorized summoning with out of date summoning methods. Interruption of security works. Unauthorized usage of corrupted ectoplasmic waste and apparent coverup of a human infected by corrupted ectoplasm." The being listed and the three couldn't help but feel reminded of a policeman listing crimes.

"I, Walker, reappointed Warden by his majesty the Ghost King and self appointed head chief of the security department of the Infinite Realms, hereby declare all of you under arrest for the previously listed offenses. Especially you, punk." The ghost called Walker pointed at Red Hood who in return pulled out his guns pointing them back at it. "You will be presented directly to our King. To think there would be a subject that failed to report back their existence."

"The fuck you wanna do? I ain't going anywhere." Red Hood scoffed, his distorted voice sounding challenging towards the ghost.

"Not to be rude but how can he report something he didn't even know about." Nightwing added eying the ghost as well as the protective barrier. The being hadn't made a move toward them yet and it should keep it contained but that didn't mean they just could let their guard down, not like he would let them take any of his brothers anywhere either. He took a step forward in case he needed to cover his younger siblings, protectiveness stirring in him. "RR, did Constantine or Zatana give you a spell to forcefully send them back?"

"Not exactly but they said destroying the summoning circle should send them back instantly." Red Robin mused after glancing at his notes for a brief moment. He didn't dare look away from that ghost for longer than needed. Normally he would be thrilled about having summoned a ghost and probably ask it a bunch of questions he had, ever since their first encounter with that 16 years old ghost left him with a tone of unanswered ones, but not with this one.

"Maybe we should-"

"WALKER! NOT AGAIN! BACK TO THE ZONE NOW!" A white haired 16 years old looking flying boy appeared through the wall without destroying it like he just phased in. The three vigilantes stared at the new presence that looked rather ticked off. The teenager had a cosmic with green flame outlined looking crown floating over their head and were wearing a jumpsuit with a logo that looked like a flaming D.

"Hey could that be our little ghost bastard?" Hood more or less stage-whispered over to Nightwing and Red Robin.

"Looks 16, maybe younger but not like what I imagined." Nightwing mused.

"Ghost Kid -ahem- your Highness, perfect Timing. I was just about to apprehend-"

"No." The teenager interrupted, arms crossed as he floated before the other ghost. "We went over this when I appointed you as the Warden again. Back. To. The. Zone."

"Did… did that other ghost call him 'highness' just now?" The more he got to learn about ghosts the more questions appeared to come up and Red Robin would definitely need answers for all of them.

"Your Highness, we need to-"

"Back now!" The teen repeated as he moved his left arm to point at a portal he opened especially for Walker. "Or do I have to get Lady Gotham to kick you out of her haunt herself?"

Red Robin watched how the two ghosts appeared to have a stare down before the white one closed his rule book and bowed before leaving. Well he would have left if he didn't smack right into the protective wall the vigilante had set up before the summoning. Good to know that Constantine's advice worked.

"Pff - cough -" The teenager covered his mouth, hiding a laugh behind a cough as he closed the portal he had opened and reopened it inside the barrier. The white ghost only sent them the most disgruntled and offended glare Red Robin had seen in a while before going through the portal the teen had opened.

Before either of the three could say anything the teenager let out a sigh and muttered something about having to deal with Walker being naggingly annoying about security and summonings later again. As if noticing them for the first time the boy glanced over at them and instantly stiffed and Red Robin definitely saw recognition in the boy's glowing green eyes. Could it be...?

"Shit." The teenager cursed. Yup, that's him.

"You are-"

"Sorry, no time for talking, gotta get back to Lady Gotham." They interrupted before continuing to ramble on. "You don't really want to make an old spirit with a ghost club wait. You guys better forget what you saw here. I would like Man In Black wipe your memory if I could but well for now please don't attempt summoning like that again? Summonings like that are outdated and barely work correctly for us ghosts. Demon summonings are a different matter but for ghosts this won't work correctly anymore or at least not since I got the stupid crown. You either end up with some random ghost or Walker trying to arrest humans. I soo have enough of getting him back from all the attempts of arresting humans that broke 'summoning rules'. Maybe I should have Fright Night arrest Walker for forcing his summon whenever he notices human summons… Anyway! Don't try again. Okay? Okay. Thanks and bye!"

The boy blinked out of existence before any of them could get a word in. The three vigilantes stared at the now empty spot. Red Robin had so many more additional questions now after having heard the presumed ghost teens ramble. So if the summons from the Justice League Dark were outdated then maybe he would need to find a more modern summoning? Also the teen had mentioned a Lady Gotham and Red Robin could only assume that that had to be their local city's spirit judging by the name.

"Well… we know now what our ghost boy looks like." Nightwing offered after some time and Red Hood scoffed.

"How the fuck was that boy a ghost? He looked more like a meta kid than a ghost."

"Well judging by the voice he definitely was the one that talked the last two times."

"So Demon Brat's Pit Demon theory is true?"

"He didn't lo-"

"I am going to try and summon this Lady Gotham next." Red Robin cut in as he turned on his heel, determined to get to the bottom of this ghost mystery even if he had to pester the JLD members for a while.

""What?""

[magicxc]

Pillow Talk

Pairings: Survey Corps x Black Reader - Things They Say In Bed

Word Count: 640

Warnings: just a tad bit of FUCKING

A/N: I’ve been directly inspired by the girlies and their idea of what these 2D men be saying in bed. I wanted to create my own version of that, but it turned out totally different than what I was going for; and for good reason too - cause this was so much fun!! Who had your favorite saying?

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren  - “a relationship should be 50/50. I give you my last name and you scream my first.”

You were praying to the high heavens that this wasnt your proposal. Knees touching your shoulders, Eren had the tendency to get lost in the sauce; uttering things he surely didn't mean, like the time he promised to bring you back the moon and the stars from outer space. 

Levi - “when did you realise the y in ‘your girl’ is silent?”

Eyes brimmed over with tears and mascara running, Levi couldn't have found you prettier than in this very moment. It's something about the drool slathered across your chin and your messy hair that looked so raw, so authentically pleasing. His dick slid past your lips once more, your cheeks hallowed and tongue flat. The bright light of the flash signaled that he was indeed recording; sending the video straight to Kenny you assumed. But you couldn’t be bothered to care. This can either go terribly wrong or terribly right. 

Erwin - “the baby factory is about to get its first employee.”

Hips tilted on pillows and legs wrapped around his waist, Erwin holds you like that for a little while longer trying his best to make sure that his seed takes. Small kisses get placed on your cheek, lips, and neck. Heavily sighing in content, it dawns on you that you could absolutely fall asleep like this. 

Connie - “if hot women are going to lie, it should at least be on top of me.”

Lmfao he's so damn dramatic. All this because girls night went a little longer than expected. You’d promise Connie a movie together when you came home, but things took a little longer than expected and it was too late. All he had the energy for now was cuddles; unable to fall asleep unless half your body was draped over his. 

Jean - “I've never kissed under the cameltoe or whatever it is that Santa said.”

On bended knee, Jean’s face stood eye to eye with your kitty cat. Mahogany legs on full display as you adorned his favorite black chemise set, he couldn't help but beg for a taste before you headed to bed for the night. You knew you’d be a bit of a tease wearing this to sleep, but the set was sexy and you really wanted the chance to enjoy your lingerie without having it ripped off of you. Just a taste though, you thought. It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. But you knew better! Because although that's how it always started, that’s rarely where it ended. 

Onyankopon - “the only thing another nigga can take from me is notes.” 

His calloused palm pressed harder into your ass cheek, your face smushed deep into the pillows. The relentless driving of Ony’s hips into yours is another stark reminder that you were his and only his. This is surely the last time you’d ever dream of entertaining another man. 

Reiner - “if you dont have my children can you still be my mommy?”

Mommy kink alert!! Who would've thought that Reiner had a mommy kink? Who would’ve thought that it’d turn you on? Either way, the driving of his fingers into your cunt just got drenched in your approval. 

Armin - “we can watch the movie or make a movie.”

Is this not the meaning of Netflix and chill? Armin considers himself intelligent, but he couldnt have felt slower in this moment. Thankfully your endless cackling had put him to ease. However, his question did get you thinking. 

Floch - “my ears are always sore because your absence is so loud.”

Wrapped tightly in his arms, Floch languidly thrusts into you; his lips touching the shell of your ear as he professes his love. While this had started out as a fling, suddenly he was becoming too much to resist.

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT IS BEYOND THE EDGE OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM??

Blog#383

Wednesday, March 13th, 2024.

Welcome back,

Earth is the sixth planet from the edge of the solar system, meaning we're none too near this cold and inhospitable frontier. But we've sent out various spacecraft over the years, so do we have any idea what the edge of the solar system looks like?

The answer is yes, but it's a work in progress. One of the latest developments, a 3D map of the solar system's edge that took 13 years to create, revealed a few more secrets about this mysterious boundary, called the outer heliosphere.

The outer heliosphere marks the region of space where the solar wind, or the stream of charged particles emitted from the sun, is "deflected and draped back" by the interstellar radiation that permeates the empty space beyond the solar system, said Dan Reisenfeld, a space science researcher at Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico and head of the team that conducted the research on the 3D map. In other words, solar wind and interstellar particles meet and form a boundary at the far reaches of the solar system.

Earthlings first got a glimpse of the solar system's outer edge in 2012, when Voyager I, a NASA spacecraft that launched in 1977, crossed into interstellar space, according to NASA. Voyager 2 was not far behind, repeating the feat in 2018. Equipped with golden records full of Bach, Louis Armstrong and humpback whale songs, in addition to their scientific instruments, Voyagers 1 and 2 reported a sudden dropoff in solar particles and a substantial increase in galactic radiation when they left the solar system, according to NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory at the California Institute of Technology.

The new 3D map reveals even more about the heliosphere. The inner layer — where the sun and its planets are nestled — is roughly spherical and is thought to extend roughly 90 astronomical units (AU) in all directions. (One AU is the average distance between Earth and the sun, about 93 million miles, or 150 million kilometers.) The outer layer is much less symmetrical. In one direction — that in which the ever-moving sun plows through the space in front of it, encountering cosmic radiation — the outer heliosphere extends about 110 AU, but in the opposite direction, it's much longer, at least 350 AU, according to Reisenfeld.

That lack of symmetry comes from the sun's movement through the Milky Way, as it experiences friction with the galactic radiation in front of it and clears out a space in its wake. "There's a lot of plasma [charged particles] in the interstellar medium, and… the inner heliosphere, which is pretty round, is an obstacle in this stream of plasma which is flowing past it," Reisenfeld told Live Science. "It has the same effect as water going around a rock in a stream," with a rush of water crashing into the rock in front and a sheltered calm behind it.

Measurements for the 3D map were gathered using the Interstellar Boundary Explorer (IBEX), which was launched in 2008 and is "the size of a bus tire," according to NASA. It's pronounced "like the animal," Reisenfeld said, referring to the ibex mountain goats known for their gravity-defying treks up alpine cliffs. But the animal that IBEX really takes after is the bat.

Many bats hunt insects, such as mosquitoes, by emitting a pulse of sound and using the time delay of the echo to figure out the distance to their prey. Likewise, IBEX detects solar-wind particles that have bounced back from the edges of the solar system, allowing Reisenfeld and his colleagues to determine the distances involved by measuring how long their round trip took.

"The sun will send out a pulse … and then we passively wait for a return signal from the outer heliosphere, and we use that time delay to determine where the outer heliosphere must be," Reisenfeld explained.

As the sun circles the outer rim of the Milky Way, the solar wind keeps cosmic radiation at bay, forming a protective bubble. This is good for us, since "that radiation can damage spacecraft and it can be a health hazard for astronauts," Reisenfeld said.

Originally published on www.livescience.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, March 16th, 2024)

"WHAT IF WE ARE TRULY ALONE IN THIS UNIVERSE??"

[outersyourwilds]

(Outer wilds spoilers in the following ramblings)

Do you think that, in his final moments, Escall blamed himself for everything that happened to his clan. If he had let Filix send out that message before warping, maybe help would've arrived sooner. If he hadn't been so rash to warp to the eye's approximate location.

Even blaming himself for the things that were completely out of his control like them warping into Dark Bramble bc of its space-bending properties. Or that pod 3 was forced to follow the closer vessel beacon signal bc they wouldn't have enough oxygen to make it to the further one.

That recording you find at the Nomai grave wasn't even done by Escall, it was Secca. While the group's dearest hope was that the rest of the pods reached safety, Escall probably died, full of regret that his actions led his clan to this

[just-jetfire]

Hey! This is anon with headcanons again. This time it's long and maybe not particularly interesting (that's why I'm sending asks anonymously, heh). It will be such a comprehensive headcanon about the psyche, culture and lifestyle of shuttles.

Shuttles are subject to such a phenomenon as the "Call of the Void", which is more literal than the phenomenon we are familiar with. It lies in the fact that shuttles, especially those that go on long-distance interplanetary flights, can fall into a certain state and go astray, heading into the depths of space and getting lost there.

The reasons reinforced by this condition may be different:

- Loss of landmarks, ignoring navigators and wrong route change; - Panic; - Perception of non-existent signals and direction along these non-existent coordinates; - Self-confidence and the desire to test yourself, ignoring the need for refueling and the danger of an unknown route; - Curiosity and the desire to go further, to look beyond the edge; - A melancholic state caused by a long absence from home, leading to a desire to seek a better life on other planets; - Monotony, loss of sense of time and movement in the midst of a large empty space, the desire to «go with the flow of gravitational waves»; - Just a trance state (it is, in principle, characteristic for any other reasons).

For this reason, shuttles most often travel with a crew that can, if necessary, bring the shuttle to senses or take over control.

Usually, to avoid such problems, shuttles are used for atmospheric flights or familiar interplanetary routes where there are many intermediate stations, or through space bridges.

But there are cases when the shuttle needs to use routes through outer space. Most often, when the previous routes have become unavailable in some way or a new route needs to be laid. The latter reason is the most dangerous, since shuttles go on such trips alone without a crew for utilitarian reasons, since the loss of one Cybertronian is not the loss of a whole dozen or even more. And besides all the other dangers of the unexplored depths of space, the "Call of the Void" is one of the main ones. Because of this, such work is sometimes called "Star embrace", because these embraces may not let go.

To avoid this, several methods have been invented, the main one being serious resistance training to this phenomenon. Basically, the training consists in the fact that a beginner is thrown out along with a beacon in an area of space, where, in case of a failure, they can be found, unlike in an unfamiliar area, where, if the signal is lost, no one will even search, because no one will never find. However, failures are not the end, shuttles always have a lot of safer work, besides they can try more than once.

Another, less official method is a strong sparkbond, love and affection for a partner, which is considered the reason why the shuttle will not be affected by this phenomenon. The partner of such a traveling shuttle is sometimes called a Spark Beacon, not in an offensive sense. The usual ritual is that the partner gives the shuttle some important symbolic thing, as a promise that the shuttle will return home. On rare occasions, a couple travels together.

Another opinion is that some shuttles deny and reject any sparkbond because they believe that it disrupts their connection with their native space element, and that it is this connection that protects them from the influence of the Call. Well, there are ordinary neutral shuttles that are not adherents of any theories.

Both approaches have a downside to the coin. In the first method, when a partner is lost, shuttles often go on the last flight, succumbing to the Call. Adherents of the second method go to the last star rendezvous when they feel or think that their life and career are coming to an end. In both cases, it is customary to send signals and data to the last in order to fulfill one's duty for the last time and make part of the space explored. Some consider it a great misfortune to be sent along such routes.

And, of course, superstitions and stories are connected with all this that these lost shuttles are responsible for unknown signals that can sometimes be picked up. Someone thinks that these signals help to find the way home, someone thinks that this is a trap that makes them repeat the fate of lost shuttles, and someone thinks that this is a kind of "hello" from those who have found another life among the stars. But most still consider this superstition, and that the source of the signals may be natural space objects or ships of other aliens.

As for Skyfire, he is one of those who often flies alone and sets routes, having good resistance to the Call. He is not a follower of any specific approaches and just enjoys his work and discoveries. But sometimes he still thinks that he is too far away from home and could try to live on some other planet. Who knows if that will change if he meets someone on Cybertron and finally understands what it's like to really want to come home…

Perhaps this headcanon is too reminiscent of some stories about sailors, but it seems to me that if some Cybertronians have this aura of danger, suspense, discoveries and adventures as in the era of Great Geographical Discoveries, then it is the shuttles.

Anon I literally love this so much I hope we can make this post blow up because this is so cool I love this so much

The Call of the void thing is sick and I love it

[its-a-ittle-bit-cold]

Down to the place we used to lay when we were kids

4.1k

series masterlist

my masterlist

summary: On the way to your home planet, you and Anakin put the past at rest.

A/n: I KNOW i said i would post like 3 weeks ago but this chapter was a journey to write!!! enjoy <3

The Legacy always felt like home for you. When your Master got and named the cruiser, he always told you that the Legacy and the men who cared for it were the best of the best. You stand on the bridge, combat armor fully equipped, cloak thrown over your shoulders. You always get cold upon takeoff.

Your Clone Commander and right-hand-man, Jex, stands with his helmet under his arm, speaking quietly with Admiral Jakobsen while you observe takeoff, waiting for your mission partner. 

The newest distress signal came from your home planet - Onapesca. Unlike other Jedi, you actually remember your family, your parents and your cousins. Sometimes the memories blur, but others, it’s like you’re six years old again. The Council had disagreed and had had to vote on who they would send… until the next call came in, requesting you by name. Onapesca has a very specific force signature, and only those who know how to access that ‘frequency’ can enter the atmosphere without being battered and killed by force storms and the like.

And so, the Council sent you - and the Jedi with the most similar Force signature to you, General Skywalker. 

“So, I hear this is the party ship,” Anakin’s voice sounds behind you. You turn, brushing the sides of your cloak back as you turn. He’s there with Rex, who approaches his brother and best friend with a complicated handshake. “What’s she called, again?”

“Anakin, Rex. Welcome to the Legacy.”

“General, we’re ready for takeoff,” Jakobson tells you. You nod, turning back to the big windows that let you look out over the cruiser. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Admiral.”

Jex and Rex inform both you and Skywalker that they’ll go to speak with the troops before reporting back for the briefing for today. The journey to Onapesca from Coruscant is quite a long one - three day’s worth of space travel to reach the outer ring of storms. You’ve already debriefed the 500th, but the small force of 501st troopers brought with Anakin and Rex are none the wiser, so you schedule a full debrief in othree hours - enough time to get everything settled for the journey.

There’s inner turmoil poorly masked inside your soon to be partner (maybe it’s just poorly masked to you). 

“Is something wrong, Skywalker?”

Anakin glances at you. You keep your gaze firmly locked on the receding planet of Coruscant, lights flickering, lighting the whole planet up. 

“I can feel your anxiety, you forget. Is something bothering you?”

The blockade he’s built flickers. You try not to peek in, but you catch a glimpse of orange and blue and white. Wide blue eyes. 

That can only be one person.

“Ahsoka? Where is she, by the way?”

Anakin bumps your shoulder.

“You know, you’re not supposed to do that.”

You wait silently.

He sighs.

“She’s back at the temple. Training.”

“Is she not your Padawan?”

“She didn’t want to come.”

That’s unlikely. You stay quiet, making sure your disbelief radiates toward him.

“She’s still having problems from the latest. I didn’t want to overwhelm her with another mission so soon.”

Finally, you turn to study him. He’s tired, eyes dark, heavy with a sort of exhaustion that comes and doesn’t go. 

If he’s this tired, how is Ahsoka?

“She’s fourteen, Anakin. I wonder sometimes if she should be here.”

By here, you mean in the war.

“We were younger.”

“Look how that turned out.”

You turn away from him, walking down the path out of the bridge. 

Look how that turned out.

You’re nine. 

This is a clear memory - one you revisit often. 

Anakin is a year older than you, ten when you meet, although you’ve been in training a lot longer, first as a youngling for a brief stint and then a Padawan learner, when you turned eight you were given a Master. 

He’s kind, one of the Masters who would visit the Crèche often in search of a Padawan. He sensed your Force presence and the ability you’ve already developed, requesting you to be his Padawan. 

As a young, advanced Padawan who’d beat some of your seniors already, you stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Until Anakin.

Until he found you hiding away in the gardens, wiping tears with the backs of grubby, mud stained hands, after a particularly humiliating win. 

He comes over and unravels the fortress of vines and flowers you’ve grown over yourself like a wall. The plants like him. They know that he’s just as different as you.

“I heard you crying,” He says. 

Your tears dry immediately at the sight of him. He can’t see you cry, you have to prove that you’re just like the other Padawans.

“I cry too,” he tells you, skipping right over the gap in conversation. You sniff shyly. 

“… you do?”

How could he, the Chosen One, cry? He’s already made a name for himself!

“Yeah,” He’s suddenly bashful. “I miss my mom sometimes.”

“Oh.” 

You miss your family, too.

“That’s okay. I miss my family, too.”

It’s his turn to be surprised.

“You do?”

He’s perked up, and so have you. This is strange - another Jedi who even remembers their birth family. 

So you talk, and talk, and giggle at his bad jokes.

It’s strange. You both need someone, someone who’s not your teacher or a friend, someone who understands the hurt of remembering.

And your Masters find you teaching him

how to manipulate the plants with only your hands, giggling when the flower he’s growing spits a wad of pollen in his face.

They share a look, and know this is the start.

Fourrteen, and blood runs hot.

You’re still getting bullied, but now Anakin is bigger than the bullies now.

He sprouted like a weed the past year and a half, growing what seems like five feet in the shortest span of time possible. He towers heads over your steadily growing self, now, all corded muscle and catlike movements. 

The next time you’re made fun of, pushed around in the height of insecurity, he’s there to throw a well-timed punch to the face of a nineteen-year-old Nautolan who’s shorter and stockier than him. 

“Anakin!” your voice has climbed octaves as the two brawl. Full-on, no sabers, no Force, brawl. Over one stupid comment and one poorly thought out shove. “Stop it! get off him!”

He doesn’t stop.

The other spectators are both screaming the the two Padawans to stop, and egging them on. Your throat catches on a sob, emotion building up, the feeling of helplessness is not one you’ve ever enjoyed.

You don’t know what else to do.

So you crack the force like a whip, sending them flying in opposite directions. Spreading your fingers and hands out separating the two Padawans, suspending them in the air just in time to stop them from hurtling into the marble walls. Everyone in the training hall goes silent at the sight of your huge feat of The Force, probably feeling the repercussions through the veil as Master Bosque, Master Kenobi, Master Secura, and Master Yoda crash into the room, seeing the two males floating, suspended in the air while you dig yourself dents into the marble floor, crackling under the weight of The Force. 

Anakin paddles his arms, trying to get free of your hold. 

At the sight of your Master, you let them down, setting them gently on the floor of the training arena. 

Anakin’s eyes are on you.

His eye’s swelling already, but he’s otherwise fine. The other… well, his robes are torn, he’s bleeding from one eye, and one of his tentacles is displaced. Definitely worse off than your best friend. 

Anakin winks at you as Obi reprimands him, and you bite back a smile as you leave with your own Master. 

After this, Yoda offers you specialized training to harness your capabilities over The Force, but that’s another story completely.

Sixteen, and Anakin is distant.

He doesn’t seem to know how to act around you since you’ve filled out a bit, gotten prettier, learned how to dress for undercover missions you go on together, posing as clueless teenagers roaming the streets of Coruscant.

Recently, you’re not friends, out roaming. You’re hopeless romantics, ducking into alleyways to pretend to break the code. 

You’ve dressed up in a nice little dress , hidden your sabers under the skirt and thrown on a bit of makeup.

Of course, this is all provided by the Order, for a mission investigating an emerging Coruscant Spice ring. Dangerous spice, that is, not the stuff you can snort and get a little woozy.

Anakin’s wearing a relatively nice-looking local suit, hair gelled back and braid tucked into a high collar. You can easily hide yours under your hair, but he’s got his shaved head to deal with as well. (and that little rat-tail on the back of his head).

He puts his hand on the small of your back - more like hovering it there- and you skirt the streets. 

You slip into an alleyway, one where you’ve been informed of a deal going down.

Anakin presses you against the wall and waits for the signs of life. Footsteps, a scuffle. Something.

You try to meet his eyes. He avoids it.

Your Masters are in your ears, just like your heartbeat thinking for itself. 

There it is. The deal. Someone’s coming into the alleyway.

Everything’s blurry with the scent of the cologne he’s spritzed on, something gross and insufferable. 

His lips are clammy on yours, you can’t really focus on the kiss: your first, and probably only. You’re listening in, and when the dealers leave, he’s looking at you. 

Looking at you.

“Don’t even think about it, Skywalker.” You click your comm on, wiping your lips. “Masters, come in. We have the location for the next deal.”

Anakin drags behind, quiet for the rest of the night.

After that, you go away for a while. Try to complete your Sentinel courses. Get everything ready. You go off world and try to give Anakin space.

Turns out, all the space in the galaxy isn’t far enough.

Age 20, newly knighted and  reunited, you join forces again to combat a string of terrorist attacks.

As a Sentinel, you’ve always felt connected with the general population, maybe more so than the rest of your Jedi peers. So, on your first mission after the Knighting ceremony , yourself and Anakin investigating a string of explosions and bomb threats, it was up to you dealing with the informants. 

The latest is a near-human around your age, witness to the bombing attempt of a sector of civilian shops. He’s bigger than you, charming, and a total flirt, and you can tell that Anakin absolutely hates him. 

You can trust him, you think, with being civil. He’s not been overly emotional since that brutal day on Tatooine when you were eighteen. 

Anakin, newly Knighted and full of pride and the sort of accidental prejudice that you’ve found lately in the Order, is certainly a sight to behold. In comparison to Aster, the informant, he’s wider, taller. More severe, more lithe, all corded muscle. 

He can be intimidating.

Not to you.

Never to you.

But he stands behind you so menacingly during your interview with Aster that you have to tell him to leave in your head. 

Aster smiles charmingly at you, pearly whites gleaming. 

When he leaves the first day, Anakin tells you that he has a bad feeling about him.

“You have a bad feeling about everyone.”

Now, it seems like so much could have been prevented if you had only followed his advice.

You sense his presence entering the room, even with your eyes closed. 

“You’re thinking about it, too.”

The briefing went well, no complications. Both groups of troopers fully briefed and in training together.

“The last mission we were on together.”

He sits down cross from you, your knees touching, the force flowing like it used to.

Like before the blowup, before the fall.

“Why are you so mad?” He’s waving his hands around, face red, twisted. You have this roiling boiling pot of overflowing rage in the pit of your stomach, tears huling up in your chest as you try to verbalize how you’re feeling. 

Because of Anakin, Aster is dead. Because of Aster, Anakin could be. 

And because of you…

Because of you, and your misjudgement,  this is the first mission you’ve been on, and the first you’ve failed. 

“Because, Anakin! You… You disrespected my orders, and you gave me your word.” You have tears threatening to spill. He’s never seen you mad, not like this. You take a. deep breath. “You promised me that you would go with the plan. You told me that you wouldn’t - that you-“

You breathe slow and heavy. 

“You put yourself in danger. You disregarded me, my orders, and my authority. And because of you…”

Anakin isn’t even shameful. There’s no regret in his eyes. The tears spill over.

“He’s dead. You helped kill a man, Anakin. He’s dead and you have no remorse for what you’ve done.”

Anakin gets this look in his eye, the one he gets after you’ve bested him in training. Like has angry and disappointed in himself but he’ll never admit it. 

You can’t be around him anymore for fear of saying something that ruins your relationship.

You get one, two, three, four steps in before…

The angry monster rears its head. 

“It’s cause you’re fucking him, right? That’s why you’re mad.”

His voice grates on you like he knew it would. 

How dare he.

“I let you cry to me, I held you in my arms and I put up with your bullshit. Get over it. I’m sorry your mother died. I’m sorry you think the world is against you, but that gives you no right to treat me like shit. I’m done with your bullshit. Get over your fucking attachment issues. I’m done.”

You spit out all the pent up anger like lava over your best friend. He’s so angry he’s seething, torn by your unusually biting words, words from someone he thought he could trust. You can’t stop the last words of your tirade from slipping out.

“Fuck. You.”

“You wouldn’t, I’m not rich enough.”

You close your eyes, laughing darkly.

“You’re pathetic. You don’t deserve that title you carry, that saber you wield. You wonder why everyone in your life leaves, well, mystery solved. They’d rather die than suffer through what I have.” 

You ignore the guilt building in your stomach, tears streaming down your face. You want to throw up. Anakin’s gone sheet-white, and instead of apologizing for letting your emotions take over, you turn tail and run.

You open your eyes, biting back the same jumping feeling in your stomach, like you want to puke up all your intestines and hide away in a hole for the rest of your life. Anakin won’t meet your eyes. maybe you won’t meet his.

“That was… hard to watch,” He drags out eventually. “I’d forgotten…”

“All the awful things I said?” You laugh, hollow. He nods. “You’re lucky.” Tears prick at your eyes at the memory of the pure hatred running through your veins.

“When I got home that night my sabers turned red. That’s the most hatred I’ve felt ever, for myself, not just you. I purified them, but the color never came back.”

Anakin’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t know that could happen. They did use to be blue, didn’t they.”

“Matching set,” You say. Your hands are shaking. “Anakin, I’m-“

“I’m sorry,” He darts out at the same time. He barrels on. “For doing what I did. For letting my emotions cloud my judgment. For attacking you when you were down.”

It sounds like he’s been rehearsing this apology, just like you. 

“I’m sorry, too,” You say. “Anger is never an excuse to say all those awful things, even if we weren’t in the Order.”

You fiddle with the hem of your robes.

“You changed my life.” Anakin breaks the silence. “I don’t know if it was for better or worse, but you changed me.”

“We changed each other, Anakin.”

You sit, knee-to-knee, like that, studying one another, finally at rest with what happened what feels like so long ago.

Arrival on Onapesca is a risky maneuver. The Force storms that surround the planet hide it away from your searching, and it takes almost half a day to fully breach all three barricades. You don’t know what awaits you, there’s no way to see through The Force the happenings on the planet.

You stand on deck in the small transport cruiser, Anakin at your side. You’ve cleared the cockpit, save Jex and Rex who will pilot the cruiser through the tunnel you create. The rest of your clone force is in the hill, the safest from the storm. Anakin is here for two reasons: He’s always been adept at lending you strength through The Force, and the second is a secret from him: he can take over if the strain weakens you to the point of not being able to support yourself and the ship.

Rex and Jex sit in commander’s chairs, operating the ship’s shields.

“On my count, lower the shields, Jex.”

Jex clicks a switch, salutes at you. 

“Three,” You begin. You close your eyes, holding your hands out in front of you, The shield begins to bloom from your fingertips. Anakin stands behind you, ready to grant you his strength.

“Two.”

You picture an invisible barrier between the ship and the swirling, volatile mess in front of you. You bring your arms out wide, willing your force signature to become you. 

“Now! Anakin!”

Your eyes snap open as his power overcomes you, and you plunge into the storm. 

The tricky thing with the entry to force-planets like Onapesca is that, along with the shield, you must also fend off attacks and phantoms, using an immense amount of control and drawing on The Force with the ability of a Jedi Grand Master.

Luckily, you have Anakin to aid you. 

You’re sure Jex and Rex think you look positively insane, but it’s working. 

You lash your hands out all around you, feeling the waves of energy cascading upon you, harnessing it, adding to the shield. The ship begins to pick up speed, torpedoing straight through the second storm barrier, and with it, your movements faster. 

Anakin and you, a sole being in The Force, Waves crashing over you but you don’t move, you press the water away, swimming to shore.

The high-speed noise and drag stops suddenly, bringing dead silence. You open your eyes, just to see the shield of multicolored light fade away, into a bright blue, cloudless sky. 

You look down into your home planet, all greens and shining cities, made of marble, metals and jewels, supported in the sky by the force, and the home world below, waterfalls from the islands cascading down into more of the same beautiful, mountainous landscape, refracting light, dancing like a hundred rainbows over the lakes and seas. 

The sun is going down as you approach the main capital city of Onapesca, Ostero. 

Ostero is a wonder in itself, buildings crammed together around green spaces, carved marble and gold architecture, all the forces of nature working together to build the connection to every building, a metaphor for the constant connectedness that the force brings to the world.

The people in the streets are a wide diversity of travelers and locals lucky enough to find themselves in this haven of a city, or they would be, if there were any.

The streets of the Capital are barren of any trace of life as the transport flies over them, bound for the castle. 

“That’s very unusual,” You point out to your companions: “What’s going on?”

The ship hovers over the castle. You’re jolted into Anakin, and you both fall to the floor, you on top of him. He grunts softly, and you roll off him.

“I’ve lost control of the cruiser!” Jex calls out. Rex is clicking furiously at the buttons.

Then it hits you.

“Oh!” You facepalm. “The hanger uses a Force pulley to bring in ships! I completely forgot about that!”

“You remember that from when you were seven?” Anakin asks, incredulously.

“No, I read it in the mission brief.”

Sure enough, the cruiser is being reeled downwards. You rush over and shut off the engine entirely, completely trusting the Force pulley to not send you crashing down.

“Things work different here on Onapesca, boys.” Your lips curve into the smile as the familiar hangar comes into view. “It’s almost like magic.”

It starts with fanfare, and you think, okay, this is normal. Trumpets and horns and big leaves and colorful sparks heralding your return.

Then comes the weeping. Lines of citizens weeping happily, to which all of your companions seem very awkward about.. Truth is, this is a little out of the ordinary.

After the weeping, when you step into the first courtyard that the hanger precedes, it gets really weird. Banners with your face on them in the Onapescan script that you can only haltingly understand. Statues of you and your family facing the sky. 

“Is this normal?” Anakin whispers. Jex and your crew are having an absolute field day with one of the particularly racy statues of you - a statue with a physique so drastically different from yours it’s, admittedly, funny.

“Absolutely not. Skipp, I’ll skin you alive if you send that holo to anyone.”

The aisle set out for you leads to a set of double doors entering the first lift, but they don’t open when you try them with a wave of your hand.

“What-“

“Your Majesty!”

it seems almost directed at you, so you turn your head, to see a disheveled looking old man in long robes - robes of a priest, the King’s right hand man- running towards you from one of the floating stone lifts off the path. 

“…Pieth?”

Pieth is older, frailer and thinner than he was when you last saw him, but he’s almost the same otherwise. Your Uncle’s best friend and companion, Pieth had tried to mentor you before realizing you were Jedi. 

“You’ve arrived! Ha ha ha!” he does a strange little dance. He was always a little eccentric, that Pieth. 

“Pieth, I’m here to respond to the distress call? I’ve brought a small clone battalion and a fellow Jedi Knight to assist you-“

“My dear friends!” Pieth rushes into an embrace with Anakin, who eyes you, paralyzed. “Thank you for accompanying our Queen and assisting us!”

Wait. 

“Pieth… did you say…”

This is the first time Pieth falls silent. 

“Pieth, my uncle? It was he who sent the distress call?”

Pieth glances at your companions, eyes hovering on Anakin, whose whole body is tense. Like you, he and the clones have made the same connection as you.

“The late King Karthik died the last week. Our people have been in mourning and in hiding for fear of the virus that killed him.”

Your mouth drops open. Queen of Onapesca?

The death of your uncle, while tragic, was not unexpected. He had always been sickly, and that had been many cycles ago. You’re actually surprised he even lasted this long.

“The throne… Is mine?” 

“Traditionally, the throne falls to the heir with the strongest pull to the Force. In this instance, this is you, and with your companions, you will be the most capable Queen of Onapescan history.”

You share a look with Anakin. 

“Pieth, I think you’ve drastically misunderstood my purpose here.” You glance around the courtyard, the statues all making sense now. “I’m here to respond to a distress call, Not to become Queen of Onapesca. Also, my only force-sensitive companion is Master Skywalker, these men are some of the finest soldiers in the Republic, yes, but they are no Force-users.”

Pieth smiles knowingly, waving a hand. You turn to see some shrubbery between two statues of you doing increasingly raunchy poses part, leaving…

“Ahsoka!” Anakin barks. Ahsoka at least has the sense to look sheepish. You tilt your head. Being back on Onapesca has really messed with your ability to sense presences. 

Anakin practically drags Ahsoka over to you. She’s a mess of scrawny elbows and knees, orange skin blushing slightly as she glances at you, undoubtedly checking if you’re mad. You could never be, of course. You grin and wink at her, much to Anakin’s disdain. 

“Come, your majesty. Honored soldiers. High Priest and Priestess.”

Ahsoka and Anakin both stare at you behind Piethz Ahsoka mouths, What the Fuck! and Anakin hisses at her, Ahsoka! We don’t say the fuck word!, ensuing a hushed argument behind you, and all you can do is let Pieth tell you of the happenings on Onapesca, in revelry of your new title.

What does this mean, becoming Queen of Onapesca?

Will you be able to give the throne away? 

Or will you have to leave the Jedi Order entirely?

-

oooooook so…

I sort of have a plan for the rest of this series (like 5 more parts), so those are gonna come around eventually.

On a separate note, i’ve been busy with end of school stuff for the past month or so, so sorry for the weird update timings.

thanks for reading!!

[randomisocahedron]

Accident Investigation Report

(I originally posted this on Reddit.)

This is a translation of the original incident report from the Space Travel Safety Commission of the United Syndicate. Units, star names, and nomenclature have been localised. For a direct translation, see Addendum 1.

The Orolda was a hyperspace-capable passenger liner 205 metres from nose to bell with a cylindrical cross-section. The main body was 10 metres in diameter, with a gravity ring in the fore section with a diameter of 80 metres. She had a crew of 26, and carried 80 passengers. On October 18th, 12 A.C. at 0632 (Vienna time), she departed a station at 40 Eridani without incident. Her intended final destination was Delta Pavonis.

When traveling through the Gliese 1061 system, Junior Engineer Lurin, who had been kept on duty for nineteen hours due to his junior status, was ordered to refill the radiator coolant because of an earlier leak. The proper procedure was to open the valve separating the primary and auxiliary coolant reservoirs, and then actuate a series of valves to push coolant out of the backup reservoir and into the primary reservoir. Junior Engineer Lurin actuated the wrong set of valves, pushing coolant out of the primary reservoir and into the backup reservoir.

A sensor existed to monitor the pressure level of the primary reservoir, but the alarms were disabled when fluids were being transferred to avoid alarms triggering during nominal and routine activities.

As the coolant drained, the remaining coolant in the system increased in temperature. This caused damage to the cooling pipes and radiators. Roughly three minutes after the coolant began draining, a partially melted pipe began leaking superheated coolant inside the Orolda's fission reactor. The coolant pressure dropped sharply, and without coolant the reactor rapidly overheated. Three minutes and forty-one seconds after the coolant began draining, a rapid increase in temperature caused the reactor to automatically SCRAM. This prompted the ship to move to Alert Status Two. The computer roused Captain Uliz.

The SCRAM was not successfully completed. Why it failed is unknown, but the reactor's automatic SCRAM had not been tested in several years. Twenty seconds after the attempt, radiation detectors indicated an ongoing meltdown. This prompted Alert Status One, waking all crew and sending them to emergency stations. Due to the radiation hazard, the aft engineering spaces were evacuated, which included Junior Engineer Lurin, who did not close the valve as he left (and was not aware that he had done anything wrong).

Two minutes later, radiation detectors indicated that the core had collapsed and penetrated the interior reactor wall. The temperature was increasing rapidly, and the cooling system was operating well below its typical efficiency. Radiation sensors in the fore section indicated that radiation was still within acceptable levels, so Captain Uliz did not order a retreat to the radiation storm shelter, for fear this would hamper repair efforts and panic the passengers.

All crew were accounted for in the shielded fore section. Of the five in the aft section at the time of the incident, all were exposed to radiation exceeding the allowable yearly dose, one suffered light radiation sickness, and two suffered acute radiation sickness: Engineer Iraz was only two metres away from the reactor and began vomiting almost immediately. Chief Engineer Aralt, who was watching him from twelve metres away, carried him to safety but was exposed to a much larger dose in the process. Both were immediately placed in medical cryostasis and are currently undergoing nanotherapy; they are expected to recover.

Once all crew were accounted for, Captain Uliz instructed Engineer Yrenzl (The highest-ranking engineer with Chief Engineer Aralt in medical cryostasis) to send a drone to examine the reactor. Although the video signal was degraded by radiation, the drone 's cameras revealed that the outer casing was melting.

Upon confirmation of the reactor being effectively unrecoverable, First Officer Intri deployed the automated hyperspace distress buoy, as there were no United Syndicate ships in the system. It would reach the next system in thirty-eight days.

Twenty minutes after the meltdown, radiator efficiency had fallen to 60%, and damage alarms were continuing. Captain Uliz ordered a visual inspection of the radiators. Instead of their usual cherry-red, they were not glowing at all, indicating a complete system failure. Captain Uliz was unresponsive and emotional for several minutes, so First Officer Intri ordered a full diagnostic on the heat management systems.

Twenty-three minutes after the meltdown, with the diagnostic still ongoing, the Orolda received a message from the Sixteen Kilotons, a Terran mining ship 25 metres from nose to bell and 15 metres in diameter at the widest point, with a crew of six. She was eleven light-minutes away (and moving away from the Orolda quickly) and the only other vessel in the system: "We see radiation from your reactor consistent with an uncontrolled meltdown. We are now moving towards you at half a gee. How many souls are on board? Are there any other issues?"

Because of the tense relationship between Earth and the United Syndicate, the crew of the Orolda assumed that the Sixteen Kilotons was a pirate or privateer taking advantage of their situation. They grimly discussed whether to resist until Engineer Yrenzl announced that the diagnostics were completed. All of the coolant was gone from the system, and high heat had melted the valves in their current position. The figure of 60% was inflated, since the pipes themselves were acting as heatsinks. The radiators were effectively turned off, but more heat than ususal was coming from the reactor. The cabin temperature would begin increasing in 6 hours, and become incompatible with life in 8.

On hearing this, Captain Uliz, previously silent, ordered the crew to cooperate fully with the humans, and stated that he would accept all responsibility for the capture of the ship. "They are likely to hold us for ransom", he said, "but they are unlikely to kill us. The same is not true for the heat."

First Officer Intri responded to the Sixteen Kilotons as follows: "Our reactor has melted down and our radiators are shot. We have 8 hours before we all bake. We have 106 souls on board. We will cooperate fully and follow all instructions."

Fifty seconds after this message was received, the Sixteen Kilotons jettisoned her load of ice. Lightened, her acceleration increased to six gees. She thereby arrived at the Orolda in five hours, thirty minutes.

An hour before the Sixteen Kilotons arrived, the crew of the Orolda, following instructions from the Sixteen Kilotons, brought all passengers into the radiation storm shelter, sealed every hatch and bulkhead, and depressurized the mid-section. Once all this was confirmed to be done, the crew of the Sixteen Kilotons used their mining laser to cut the Orolda in half at the thinnest point of her midsection. Although the two ships' docking systems were not compatible, the crew of the Sixteen Kilotons was able to attach the ports to form an airtight seal using three hundred and fifty metres of fibre-reinforced plastic adhesive strips.

Once this connection was established, three crew-members from the Sixteen Kilotons entered with a large cooling device connected by flexible tubes to their ship's cooling system. Captain Uliz presented the ship's rifle to the Terran captain, and offered surrender. The translator records the Terran Captain's reply as "What the hell are you talking about?".

Once the cooling systems were established, the Sixteen Kilotons' reactor and radiators, which because of her duties were more powerful than the Orolda's own, were able to keep the crew at a comfortable temperature until the United Syndicate patrol ship Arteyna arrived and began ferrying passengers and crew to safety.

Recommendations

The common practice on merchant ships of severely overworking new crewmembers as a rite of passage must be curtailed.

It is advised that it be regulated that two crewmembers be present whenever liquids are being manually transferred within a ship.

Regulation should be enacted to require regular testing of a reactor's SCRAM functions, including in suboptimal conditions.

The feasibility of equipping all ships with military-style reactor jettison systems should be examined.

The uniquely human concept of a "Mayday" or "Distress call" in maritime, aviation, and orbital culture should be examined in detail.

Duct tape should be made mandatory on all ships.

[cagemasterfantasy]

Staryu the Star Shape pokemon a water type

2ft 7inc

76.1lbs

Ability: Illuminate or Natural Cure Hidden Ability: Analytic

Egg Group: Water 3

Highest Base Stat: Speed:85

Lowest Base Stat: Hp:30

Base Stat Total: 340

Favorite Spot: Ends of either arm

Least Favorite: Red Gem

Large numbers of these Pokemon make their home at the seaside. At night, a strange red glow radiates from the center of their bodies. This Pokemon gets nibbled on by Lumineon and others. Thanks to its red core, it regenerates fast, so it's unconcerned by their snack attacks.

In many places, there are folktales of stardust falling into the ocean and becoming Staryu. No number of injuries can bother Staryu. Its amazing regenerative powers return it to its previous state in half a day!

Use a Water Stone to get Starmie the Mysterious pokemon a water and psychic type

3ft 7inc

176.4lbs

Ability: Illuminate or Natural Cure Hidden Ability: Analytic

Egg Group: Water 3

Highest Base Stat: Speed:115

Lowest Base Stat: Hp:60

Base Stat Total: 520

Favorite Spot: Ends of either arm or the one below them

Least Favorite: Red gem

Its shining core is thought to receive and transmit enigmatic signals. It has been known to cause headaches in those who approach it. Its unusual body shape, reminiscent of abstract art, led local people to spread rumors that this Pokemon may be an invader from outer space.

Its sparkling core is called “the gem of the sea.” This core can be made into high-priced accessories that are traded in secret. It rotates its geometrically shaped body to swim through the water. It always seems to be sending out mysterious radio waves.

[skywrotecreations]

Dissonant Constellations Chapter 5

Date: July 12, 2116 Time: 15:22 Human Circadian Standard Location: Merili Nebula

Search. Rescue. Repair.

Like all First Responders Corps vessels, the circular corridor wrapping around the FRS Nightingale’s bridge was decorated with the organization’s creed. 

Those words were laser-etched into every inch of those matte-blue walls; scrawled out in every modern written language of every culture known to travel in Coalition space. Spiraling Zelanian. Northern Continental Oxionzan cursive. Xednandais. Arabic. English. Japanese. Xhosa. And so many, many more.

Of course, the inclusion of every language meant that none of the text was more than a centimeter high. 

Even so, it served its purpose. 

Every member of the crew, regardless of origins, could take a stroll around that ornate corridor, and find a reminder of their duty to turn the unfathomably immense Empty of space into something survivable.

As Captain Samantha Healy returned to the bridge, her stomach pleasantly full of tacos, she ran a few dark-brown fingers over the phrase, written in braille, just above the keycard sensor.

A nice reminder of home. 

But home was far, far away, and at that moment, she didn’t have time to savor the memories.

Sam smoothed down the sides of her neon green-and-blue uniform, rested her palm against the sensor, and stepped inside as the door hissed open.

Out of practicality, the bridge itself had none of the ornateness of the corridor. The walls were a simple, non-reflective gray, light enough to prevent its edges from blurring in with the corners of the main viewscreen when it was active, but dark enough to not cause an afterimage if they shifted focus.

Which of course, they could at any time. 

The viewscreen itself was simply a projection of a collection of cameras and data from sensors affixed to the outside of the hull. Technically, they could retract the bit of hull directly behind the viewscreen to turn it into an actual window, but Sam had never felt a desire to do so for any reason other than making sure the mechanisms still worked. Whatever transparent alloy they made the viewscreen out of was supposed to be as strong as the outer hull itself...but the captain had seen enough wrecks to know exactly how comforting that boast truly was. 

People could roll back the hullshutters in the privacy of their self-contained quarters and stargaze all they wanted...but it was best not to chance it on the bridge unless they had a very, very good reason.

Compared to a luxury vessel, the Nightingale’s controls had an almost-retro vibe: chunky keys, switches, and knobs controlled most of their displays. Parts easily repaired or replaced…and without the risk that Basil’s hand would slip on a touchscreen in the middle of a rescue mission, and send them skipping into the next galaxy over.

A safety feature especially important for time-sensitive missions like the one her crew currently faced.

Sam made a beeline across the domed room to the primary communications station, where her outreach officer, Hamid, sat wearing large headphones that flattened sections of his short black hair. He stared at a screen covered in window after window of waveforms and text boxes.

“Any new messages?” Sam asked him. Sometimes dropping out of a skip nearly overloaded their coms with localized frequencies that were incompatible with quantum transmission, but she doubted that was the case this time. 

Even under optimum conditions, that usually only happened over colonies, and the Miril Nebula was too far from any Coalition colony. The Isolationists were pretty close by…but as the name suggested, they mostly kept to themselves.

“More of the same,” the man popped a headphone off one ear, but didn’t take his eye off the screen. “Just a decent analogue loop of the original distress call. The radio signal’s getting stronger on our current trajectory.”

So they were still headed in the right direction. “Any new information?”

Hamid squinted at the screen. “The callsign matches a Coalition cargo ship called the Dolos. Registered as a mid-sized transport with a skeleton crew. Compliment of eight, and...ah. Systems overload, with failed redundancies. Minor injuries. Their skipper’s shot, and life support will only last another couple more hours, based on the time stamp encoded into the message. That seems to be it.”

Oh.

Well, that could’ve been a lot worse. Thank goodness they were close enough to help, while there was still someone left.

“Give Spacedock 59 a heads up,” Sam ordered. “It will take a while for Imani’s team to replace that skipper, and we won't be able to leave until we're certain the life support is completely back in working order.”

Hopefully no other major calls would come in. The Responders’ presence this close to the Isolationists was…well…embarrassingly weak.

“Yes, Captain.”

Sam crossed to her own station, sat in her comfy swivel chair, and scanned the readouts funneling through from all over the bridge.

No signs of approaching vessels. No signs the Isolationists were going to pop up in their typical trigger-happy manner, and ruin the rescue.

Hopefully it stayed that way.

Reaching the distressed ship didn’t take long. They’d plotted their skipper’s course to drop them a safe distance from the coordinates given out in the original message, in case of debris, but close enough to easily pick up the short-range analogue transmissions used to pinpoint vessels within a system. 

Like a bat listening for pings in a foggy forest, the Nightingale honed in on the source through the nebulous debris. 

It led them, alarmingly, to a ship-shaped black void.

Sam frowned.

Painting a ship black was against Coalition law. 

At least, for civilian ships. 

Military vessels had their own set of regulations, but everything else, from a First Responder’s floating hospital to a senator’s yacht to a standard cargo carrier, should have been painted either bright white or a fluorescent hue. 

Intentionally visible. 

Intentionally easy to track down for rescue or recovery by sight alone if necessary, even if all power was completely gone, and both the emergency lights and distress signals could not be used. 

It also helped to avoid crashes while attempting to dock at a space station. No sentient species with vision could miss the Nightingale’s eggshell-white hull, or the stylized Rod of Asclepius painted in startling scarlet red on its bow, stern, aft, port and all of its wings. 

First Responders vessels very rarely crashed.

This…thing…in front of them, however, was an accident waiting to happen, if it ever went near a port.

Even more concerning, Sam didn’t see symbols of any kind painted in contrast on ship’s matte-black hull. Not so much as a smudge to indicate where it might have been scraped off by space debris, or a wavering pattern in the paint that would make her believe the ship’s hull had simply been scorched in some way. Even military vessels had to have a bright insignia somewhere on them, unless they were in an active combat situation...which hadn’t happened in Coalition space for decades.

Sam tried to tamp down the anxiety gnawing at the back of her brain.

Maybe it was an Isolationist ship? It would explain the blatant disregard for safety regs.

But Isolationist ships didn’t call for Responders. They either had their own rescue fleet, or maybe just relied on luck to avoid disasters…but in either case, their distress signals never made it to Responders’ hubs. 

And the callsign embedded in the distress signal belonged to an active Coalition-registered cargo transport.

Concerning, in its own right, under the circumstances.

Pirates were the next possibility that flashed through Sam’s mind. 

Unfortunately, the medical black market was a well-known vice across many corners of Coalition space. Even though the Responders gave out medications and treatment freely to whoever might need them, the dubious cocktails mixed up and sold using stolen supplies fed the recreational drug habits of many souls unlucky enough to have gone down that path.

But pirates tended to get their stolen medical supplies by smuggling them out of a colony’s stockpile. Or pilfering from a disabled cargo ship, like the one the Nightengale was supposedly being asked to aide.  They weren’t typically brazen enough to lure a Responders ship in to a trap. 

Mainly because they knew that not only were Responders vessels fully armed in case of such an attempt, but an attack was one of the fastest ways to set the Coalition Guard on any pirate’s heels. Even if the Guard wasn’t already tagging along with the Responders as backup.

So even with the odd hull, the chances of it being a pirate attack were very, very low.

…Still, best to be cautious.

“Mary?” Sam called over to her defense officer at a station to her left. “Are you seeing any charged weapons on the scanner?”

“Not right now, no,” the woman’s long brown ponytail shook in counterpoint to the rest of her head. “But there’s a lot of distortion from the Nebula, so I can’t be completely sure. I don’t like the looks of this, Captain.”

“It’s definitely suspicious,” Sam sighed.“But if their life support really is failing, then we might not have time to wait for backup. Keep the shields up for now. We’ll try to make contact before risking a rescue.”

“Aye Captain.”

The captain set her monitor’s intercom to her lead Chief Recovery Expert’s frequency; pressed the button. “Jill, are you looking at our visual on the Dolos?”

“If you can call it that,” Jill responded, clearly annoyed. “Permission to have Tiffany and Xivix pack a stun-gun apiece?”

“Granted,” Sam suppressed a wince. “Just keep them holstered unless absolutely necessary. We don’t want any misunderstandings. Hold in the docking bay for the time being. I’ll let you know as soon as I can if the mission is still on.”

“Sounds good, talk soon.”

Sam swiveled to look at the communication’s hub. “Hamid, please update Spacedock 59 again, and include a photo of the Dolos.”

“Drafted, and prepped to send. Do you want me to include a request for an escort?”

Sam nodded. “Their answer likely won’t have changed, but maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Message sent. Would you like me to—Ah.”

“What?”

“The Dolos beat me to it,” Hamid pointed to a new waveforem on the screen. “We’re being hailed.”

The captain felt the knot in her stomach ease a little. Pirates weren’t known for talking before an attack. Still nowhere near a guarantee, but they would take precautions.

They had time, after all. It wasn’t like the ship was venting atmosphere.

“Thank you, Hamid. One moment...” Sam looked down the bridge, to their pilot. “Basil, are you ready for some defensive flying?”

“My favorite kind,” the bluish-green-skinned Xelanian flicked out his long, blue forked tongue with a cocky flourish. “Can I do a barrel roll?”

She let herself smirk. “We’ll see.”

He clicked his beak happily.

Sam rolled her dark brown eyes.

Pilots. Adrenaline junkies the lot. As a former pilot herself, Sam felt justified in saying that.

Next, the captain swiveled to another chair off to the right, to a Human with short, purple hair, who had been taking notes on the conversation. 

“Sidney?”

“Yes, Captain?” The ship’s clerk looked up from their log.

“Send messages to Imani and Lukas. Let them know the details of the distress signal, and the state of the ship. Best case scenario, the infirmary’s going to have eight low-risk patients to look over in about half an hour. Worst case...Make sure Imani has the skipper prepped for an emergency exit.”

“Yes, Captain.” They pulled a pocket-com from their bright-green trousers; turned away; began to speak into the device in a quiet voice.

Sam took a deep breath; nodded. “Patch them through, Hamid.”

The viewscreen flicked to life, and Sam found herself looking at what seemed to be a pale Human with messily-cropped blond hair that curled up around the ears. 

The person’s face was only semi-visible through the dim light reflected back from the monitor they were staring into. The video itself was so distorted, Sam couldn’t tell if the red outfit the figure wore was a Coalition Guard uniform, or something else altogether.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” The voice, at least, was clear as the bell it resembled. And sounded as worried and relieved as the captain knew to expect from someone stranded in space.

“We can,” Sam gave a warm smile. “I’m Captain Samantha Healy, of the FRS Nightingale. Are you on the Dolos?”

A grin flashed in the glitching screen. “Yes. I’m Captain Tilly Crier. Thank you for answering our call. We’ve had a major systems malfunction. Our skipper’s completely offline, and we continue to have major systems malfunctions that put the entire crew in danger. We’re dead in the ether.”

“So your message said,” Sam nodded. “We can help you with that. But first, I think you know I need to ask about the paint?”

She was pretty sure she saw the figure tilt their head. “The paint?”

Sam’s smile wavered.

…Alright.

Not the response Sam had been hoping for. Especially from the supposed captain of the Dolos.

“Your ship is painted black?” Sam coaxed.

“Oh, right, that,” the figure sighed. “Apologies. Long day. I can’t go into detail, but I can say we’re under military contract. Our paint is perfectly legal.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that. “Is there anyone we can contact to verify that?”

“There’s no time for that,” Tilly said. “Our systems are too unstable. We need immediate evacuation”

“Do you have a shuttle?” Sam suggested. “If you can gather your crew, and wait in a shuttle until we receive verification, then that should give us plenty of time to––”

“Some of my crew doesn’t have that long,” Tilly snapped. “There was another malfunction about an hour ago. It evacuated the atmosphere in a main corridor, effectively cutting us off from the docking bay. We have multiple people trapped in their quarters. We need your shuttle to pull them out. Quickly.”

…Alright.

There were the alarm bells again.

She had to keep calm. If it was the truth…well, that did up their timetable a bit, but it was still definitely do-able. Jill and her team were fast. They could evacuate a crew of eight in under an hour, even if they had to go room by room to do it.

And if it was a lie, they were still safe with their shields up.

There was time for a few more questions. Just to be safe.

“Your distress signal says the injuries were minor,” Sam reminded the Dolos’ captain. “Why didn’t you update the message?”

An annoyed laugh. “And risk another system blowing out? Are you seeing the quality of this signal?”

Yes. She was.

“I’m seeing a distorted, garbled image, and hearing crystal-clear audio. Can you tell me why that is?”

There was a pause this time. “Do you always waste this much time in an emergency, Captain?”

Sam set her jaw. “I put the safety of my crew first. We can’t save anyone if we’re in a trillion pieces. Now, do you have any idea what is causing the malfunctions? My team needs to know what to expect--”

“You’re wasting time,” Tilly claimed. “Do I have to keep repeating that we’re under a military contract? I can’t tell you exactly what’s happening, I just need you to send over a ship before half my crew-- ”

An alarm sounded through the screen.

“No no no!” The Dolos’ captain rushed out of view.

“Captain!” Mary called out. “It looks like an airlock just opened up on the Dolos’ starboard side. I’m counting at least four humanoids in the void. No signs of suits.”

Sam’s mouth went dry.

…Oh.

“Does that look fake to you!?!” Tilly came back into the range of the flickering screen. “Help us! Please! Help!”

Oh god.

Part of Sam still screamed that the situation was far too suspicious. That there wasn’t a captain in the universe that would forget the color of their ship. That the timing of the ejection seemed far too coincidental, given how long the Dolos had gone without incident prior to the Nightingale’s arrival.

But four people had just been ejected into space.

If there was even a sliver of a chance of saving them, Sam had to act. 

“Mary, drop shields,” the captain ordered, then turned to her intercom. “Jill, we’ve got four void exposures. You’re cleared to launch immediately. Top speed.”

“You got it, Captain,” Jill acknowledged. “We’re about forty five seconds out.”

More than enough time, if they were extremely lucky.

Extremely.

Sam turned back to the viewscreen. “Captain Crier, we’re sending a shuttle now. They’re heading straight for the exposures--”

“Oh, there’s no need for that, Captain.” 

Sam blinked. “Excuse me?”

The pixelated figure on the screen seemed to freeze in place. In a new, light tone, Tilly chuckled from an unmoving mouth. “You people truly are gullible, aren’t you? I heard the First Responders Corps was full of bleeding hearts, but for a moment I thought you, Captain Healy, might actually have enough spine to be a problem. But, here we are. I suppose I don’t need to hold any refuse in reserve, do I?”

What in the everloving hell was that supposed to mean? What was going--

“Captain!” Mary’s voice cracked. “More bodies, from the aft airlock. At least seven or eight this time. I…from what I’m seeing, I think they’re already dead. There’s…there’s so much blood.”

Sam felt bile creep into her throat. 

She forced it down, and tried to stay calm as her mind quickly recalculated their situation.

Definitely dealing with pirates.

Pirates who had definitely killed the actual crew of the Dolos.

And who suddenly seemed eerily too open with their malice.

Sam jammed at the button to contact the extraction team. “Jill, turn around now! Abort mission, they’re pirates! They’re--”

“I’m jamming their communications, captain,” the figure said with an unmoving mouth. “Not that it would truly matter if they doubled back at this stage anyway. My virus finished uploading halfway through our little debate. It just needed its final trigger, which you supplied a moment ago, when you lowered your shields. Amazing how distracting a little bit of theatrics can be, isn’t it?”

Sam stared in shock; her stomach clenched. Had...had she just said…

No.

No, the Nightingale’s systems were completely secure. Dozens of firewalls, There was absolutely no way to get through their digital security without a manual interface––

“Captain!”

She turned to Hamid just in time to see his pixelating screen cut to darkness.

“Long-range communications down,” Hamid pushed his chair back, and began to quickly unscrew the front panel of the terminal.

Sam knew what he was scrambling for, and grimly hoped he was fast enough to disconnect it; to prevent whatever virus the hacker had uploaded through the channel from spreading––

“Navigation’s not responding,” Basil’s skin began to take on a pink hue in his frustration. “We can’t move.”

No.

No, this was not going to happen.

Absolutely not.

“Keep trying.” Sam turned back to the screen, to the figure that seemed impossibly still. “This is a bad idea, Captain Tilly. The Coalition Guard has dispatched a ship to rendezvous with us. They should be here any minute. Your best chance to avoid getting blown to pieces is to undo whatever you’ve done to my ship, and--”

“This won’t take that long, Captain.” There was a shuffling from beyond the frozen screen. “Do not resist, and I will be in and out of your hair astonishingly quickly.”

No.

“Do not attempt to board us,” Sam commanded. “We will defend ourselves. Whatever you’re after, it’s not worth--”

“It truly is, actually.” Another chuckle from the frozen face. “Don’t worry, captain. I mean no harm to your kindhearted crew. As a matter of fact, I believe, in time, you will look back at this moment and understand how removing this little infection from your midsts helped not only my aims, but your ability to live the virtuous little life you claim to crave.”

What kind of bullshit riddle was that supposed to be?

“What do you want?” Sam demanded. This wasn’t the time for games. Not when who knew what was heading for her and the people she cared about.

The figure stayed frozen. “Just a monster. Nothing more. One you’re better off without. Stay out of my way, and that is all I will take.”

The viewscreen went dark.

“There goes shortrange,” Hamid said with a frustrated groan.

“Optics are gone,” Mary turned to her. “Captain, permission to pass out the emergency weaponry--”

“Granted.” 

No time to waste. 

Not when they had no idea what was coming.

Secure the ship. 

Contact the department leads.

Seal soft targets, like the infirmary--

“And there goes the intercom!” Hamid took one of the small stun pistols Mary held out to him. “We’re down to personal coms.”

Which meant one contact at a time.

Shit.

Prioritize.

Engine room first. Then the infirmary. Then everywhere else.

Hopefully she had enough time.

Sam fished her personal com from her neon green coat’s left pocket, flipped it open, and called Imani, their lead engineer. “This is Captain Healy. A virus has been introduced to the ship’s systems. Seal the engine room and disconnect the skip––”

Her pocket com’s screen glitched out.

The bridge went dark.

Cover | Synopsis | Chapter 1 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

[mosspapi]

(I know all of this is technically just game mechanics, but I like to think too deeply abt in-universe explanations for things so let me have my moment lmao)

The lore implications of dead crewmates in Lethal Company being able to contact the autopilot ship is WILD btw. Like. I know technically revival is a thing in-universe bcuz u can respawn, which arguably should be more impressive, but that could pretty easily just be some advanced tech from the future. I can see lots of theoretical scientific/technological explanations for it. What I wanna know is how dead crewmates can contact the ship while dead (PT: while dead).

It's not like their life support going offline immediately notifies the ship, bcuz it doesn't happen automatically. You have to CHOOSE to notify the ship. This implies not only that they have technology that proves the existence of an afterlife and can detect or contact spirits/ghosts/souls/whatever, but also that said entities can reach out first. My initial thought was that it's smth on the other crewmates suits, since you don't have to be near the ship to vote but you always need to be spectating a living crewmate, so they aren't making direct communication with the ship itself. Maybe something like a spirit-box on the other crewmates' suits that the ghosts can interact with, which will send a signal back to the ship. This IS an option. However it would have to be smth that wouldn't get interference from other sources, and I also don't think that flickering thru radio stations is what's happening in outer space on abandoned moons, some of which don't even have telephone lines. Could be some futuristic "radio stations" that aren't actually using our current understanding of how those work, but that still wouldn't account for interference imo. Which leads me to my next thought, which is that it's something directly on the ghosts that they can use to communicate. I have NO idea how this would work, maybe the life support on the suit leaves like an electromagnetic/spiritual/whatever imprint on the ghost as they leave the body, but I have no idea how that could be used to contact the ship, if for lack of better words, it's just an energetic fingerprint or scar. Maybe if it's causing a different or specific frequency/energy field/etc, the ship could detect that, but how the ghosts would be able to change it themselves in order to tell the ship to leave is beyond me. They'd have to be able to mess with their own electromagnetic signals, which sounds like a recipe for accidentally destroying ur entire consciousness or mutating urself into a new species or smth by mistake.

Side note, it also implies the company trains people on how to use whatever this technology is, which is both hilarious and terrifying. Do they just give u a verbal explanation and hope u figure it out the first time you die? Or do they actually make you practice by repeatedly killing you and having you notify the ship, and therefore there may be ghosts of crewmates who couldn't figure it out or who's technology malfunctioned or something just floating around in space.

There's so much to think abt here I could be here for days. I wanna come up with a feasible explanation. It's fascinating to me. I love it.

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Currently getting emotional over how fucking well the song "To The Moon & Back" by Savage Garden fits to Ellie and Joel - but especially Ellie. Covering who she is and how she feels over the course of the season, all the references to space and stars and how she's "waiting for the right kind of pilot to come" which is Joel 🥹

She's taking her time making up the reasons To justify all the hurt inside Guess she knows from the smiles and the look in their eyes Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one They're saying Mama never loved her much And daddy never keeps in touch That's why she shies away from human affection But somewhere in a private place She packs her bags for outer space And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot To come (and she'll say to him) She's saying

I would fly you to the moon and back If you'll be if you'll be my baby Got a ticket for a world where We belong So would you be my baby

She can't remember a time When she felt needed If love was red then she was colour-blind All her friends they've been tried for treason And crimes that were never defined She's saying Love is like a barren place And reaching out for human faith is Is like a journey I just don't have a map for So baby gonna take a dive and push the shift to overdrive Send a signal that she's hanging all her hopes on the stars (What a pleasant dream) just saying

The first line of the first verse already hits you, makes you think about how she wanted to justify herself being a cure. Then, how she's always been alone, never had friends, family, parents to love her and care for her. But somewhere in a private place, she packs her bags for outer space because deep down she wants to escape and her fascination with space is her escape. She just doesn't have that person to make it possible for her yet, until Joel shows up.

And then the chorus hits you with Joel saying he will take her anywhere, to the moon (where she dreams to go) and back if she'll be his baby girl. (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!)

She can't remember a time when she felt needed so she's desperate for the cure to work because then finally her shitty life would have some meaning, some purpose. So all the loses, all the people she had survived - Riley, Tess, Henry, Sam, even Sarah - wouldn't be for nothing.

And when Joel enters her life it's literally a deep dive into the kind of love she never knew, like a journey she doesn't have a map for.

And she's hanging all her hopes on the stars to keep him there, keep him alive, never lose that love now that it's here. Never be apart, save the world and go build their little sheep ranch on the moon.

The best part is, this song came out in 1997. Ellie could easily discover it on a cassette somewhere, maybe in Jackson's library, listen to it on repeat and get emotional over the lyrics. Joel could hear it somewhere too, maybe they have some sound system at the cafeteria and they're playing it through the speakers, and he remembers it from Before, hearing it on the radio, but he had never paid attention to the lyrics until now and it hits him like a wrecking ball.

Somebody take this from me please and make a fic out of it. I'm currently powering through a hospital rewrite + after, which turned out to be massive (12k and still going). Not to mention other ideas I want to work on, for TLOU and for Titans (and maybe also for The Bad Batch 👀). It would be the greatest thing, for real.

Also, a side note for those who know: this is low-key also an Ezra & Cee song 🥹

[theworldwasengulfedinpudding]

Outer Wilds: Echoes of the Eye (The Lost Reels)

The Lost Reels are a reprise for Echoes of the Eye. When I wrote Outer Wilds - Reprise, I wanted to share my memories of the game as a drifting emotion - a fainting thought that could have been lost in a signal further than ever in the distance. When I finished writing the music for Echoes, these characters felt like friends that I’d never see again. It has been a wonderful experience to enter their world again and revisit them. Lost Reels jumps head-first into the Outer Wilds idea of an existential awakening, as well as the alternative Echoes of the Eye touches on - a descent into madness. The most exciting thing for me to think about was, “What if the Outer Wilds universe was real and we heard an alien Voyager sending out their own Golden Record message as signals found deep in space? How would we translate them and how could we connect with their melodies as a reflection on our own lives if we are already living them?" The new compositions are a reminiscence of everything that Outer Wilds and the community has meant to me, and I can’t wait to share it with everyone. Andrew Prahlow - August 26 2022

[davros42]

Rewatching Classic Doctor Who, some episodes I haven't seen in years, some of the animated reconstructions I haven't seen at all.

Planet of Giants AKA Minuscule Story AKA The Minuscules AKA Serial I

Season 2 kicks off with a bit of a strange one. It feels very much like a prototype Third Doctor story. The first story to take place in the 'modern day' (and in the UK for that matter) since the first one. Apart from the hook/subplot of the TARDIS crew being shrunk, it has no particular SciFi trappings which, from the vantage point of the 21st century, makes it feel like a historical story. The strong influence from Rachel Carson's Silent Spring doesn't hurt either. Doctor Who getting in on the 'insecticide killing pollinators' thing fifty years early.

The TARDIS doors open midflight (something to do with 'space pressure' but that's not important right now) but Ian and Barbara brute force them closed again. The Fault Locator makes it's last (televised) appearance. And the TARDIS lands safely. Or appears to. All the sensors indicate safety but the scanner screen explodes as if trying to show something too big for the screen. That's not how television works, but ok. It turns out that the doors opening allowed the space pressure to shrink the occupants of the TARDIS (and the outer shell of the TARDIS, but don't think about that too hard) after spotting some dead things, the crew is menaced by a cat, Ian gets captured via matchbox (which is a nice change of pace from how he normally gets captured), and a scientist gets murdered. You see, he's come to reject the application for a phenomenally powerful insecticide having realized the ecological dangers.. so the financial backer of the insecticide straight up shoots him dead in the front yard. It is a powerfully American moment. Oh and Barbara accidentally doses herself with the insecticide and doesn't tell anyone because reasons. Eventually the crew get into the house and try to get involved, messing with the phone, and ultimately blowing up a spray can to attract attention. It works, the switchboard operator (kids, ask your great-grandparents what a switchboard was) is conveniently married to a cop and sends him 'round just in time to catch the baddies. The crew returns to the TARDIS, and returns to full size, saving Barbara. Somewhere along the way the viewer monitor in the TARDIS was repaired so our last shot is a scrambled signal, where could the TARDIS be headed next?

And before anyone gets the wrong idea from my snarky synopsis, I really like this one. Short and sweet. A little silly at times if you think too hard about it but a good story that doesn't get too bogged down in unnecessary explanations and detail. It fits the tone and temp of a lot of the modern era in that way. It has two parallel stories that converge in a satisfying way. Originally meant to be four episodes and cut down to three, it still moves well, not a lot seems to be left out. The oversized props are great fun and there's some decent effects. The production is wise enough not to linger on them, letting most of the special effects exist in the audience's imagination.

Up next - an epic, this one changes everything: The Dalek Invasion of Earth

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Posted by Sumit Arora, 18 July 2023

What is International Moon Day?

International Moon Day is an annual day dedicated to the Earth’s one and only natural satellite, the Moon!

It is held every year on July 20, which is the anniversary of the day on which astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin famously set foot on the Moon in 1969.

The Moon landing is still considered one of humanity’s greatest achievements.

International Moon Day is all about commemorating the Apollo 11 mission while teaching people about the Moon and astronomy.

Significance of International Moon Day

• The General Assembly declared International Moon Day, a United Nations-designated international day to be observed annually on July 20, in its Resolution 76/76 on “International cooperation in the peaceful uses of outer space” in 2021.

• International Moon Day marks the anniversary of the first landing by humans on the Moon as part of the Apollo 11 lunar mission.

• The celebrations will also consider the achievements of all States in the exploration of the Moon and raise public awareness of sustainable Moon exploration and utilization.

History of International Moon Day

• American astronauts Neil Armstrong, and Edwin ‘Buzz’ Aldrin became the first humans in history to land on the Moon on 20 July 1969.

The grand Apollo 11 mission took place eight years after the national goal announcement by President John F. Kennedy to send a man to the moon by the end of the 1960s.

• The idea for the mission to send astronauts to the moon started when President Kennedy appealed to a special joint session of Congress in 1961, stating:

“I believe this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to Earth.”

• At the time of Kennedy’s proposal, the United States was still head-to-head with the Soviet Union in advancements in space exploration and, since it was during the time of the Cold War, the proposal was welcomed.

The first unmanned Apollo mission was initiated by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), after five years of effort and hard work by their international team of engineers and scientists.

The first mission served as a testing phase for the structural resilience of the launch spacecraft vehicle.

• At 9:32 A.M. on 16 July 1969, the whole world witnessed Apollo 11 take off from Kennedy Space Center with three astronauts on board — Neil Armstrong, Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin, and Michael Collins.

Neil Armstrong was the commander of the mission.

The spacecraft entered the lunar orbit after three days, on July 19.

The lunar module, Eagle, disengaged from the main command module the next day, manned by Armstrong and Aldrin.

When Eagle touched the lunar surface, Armstrong radioed his historical message to Mission Control in Houston, Texas:

“The Eagle has landed.”

• At 10:39 P.M., Armstrong exited the lunar module and made his way down its ladder.

His progress was being recorded by a television camera attached to the module, transmitting signals back to Earth, where the world was watching with bated breath.

• At 10:56 P.M., Armstrong stepped on the moon’s powdery surface, and spoke his iconic words:

“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

[docgold13]

Profiles in Villainy 

Merla The Warrior Queen of Amazonia 

The despotic Merla rules an alien world where women lord over men.  She and her Amazonian army would send out flashing signals into the cosmos so to lure others to her planet.  Equipped with powerful hypnotic rings, Merla would then mind-control any woman who came to her planet, forcing them to join her army. While any male captures were made into slaves who toiled in servitude.   

Josie and The Pussycats fell into Merla’s trap and the space-faring pop stars were hypnotized into joining the queen’s ranks.  The Pussycats’ roadies, Alexander and Alan, were able to escape and the pair eventually freed the Pussycats thus enabling them all to flee the planet.  

Merla was voiced by actress Virginia Gregg and appeared in the sixteenth episode of Josie and The Pussycats in Outer Space, airing on December 23rd, 1972.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Why "Science" entertainment full of junk?

This isn't a phenomenon limited to Social Video Media, it's from trusted services like PBS, Discovery, Hecking Harvard ...

They take an idea; something like "Time is Slower in Outer space"; but instead of examining the physics and the mechanics and the engineering....

<aside>Clocks as the current standard is; send an electric signal through a quartz crystal in order to regulate that *one time per second* that we associate with time.

When the clock gets sent up to outer space; it's being altered drastically by Sub-Zero temps, little or no atmosphere, and different gravitational forces.

This fundamentally alters the mechanisms fundamental operation. And is something. We can replicate here on earth.</aside>

Instead of going into the physics and mechanics and thermodynamics; they go straight into this analysis on "GRAVITY MUST AFFECT TIME AND VICE-VERSA. THERE MUST BE SOME CAUSAL LINK BETWEEN THE LACK OF GRAVITY AND THE SLOWING OF TIME IN SPACE!"

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This extends to a lot of not meta-physics, but literal Ron L. Hubbard esque science-fiction being spoken aloud at science conventions and talks and symposiums; LIKE THEY WERE SCIENCE FACT.

Not like; oh "Science Trek had some really cool ideas and technologies, wouldn't that be great if they were real life?" But literally speaking as if James T. Kirk himself had handed them the keys to the Enterprise.

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And I get it; there's a reason for grandeur in the science space in order to reach communities that might be closed off to the scientific establishment. Linking science directly to God and the cosmos and outlining how everything will ultimately be fixed by rational thinking minds, and maybe even a little magic.

It may even sell books, and bring in much needed $$ to fund research projects.

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What's instead happening; is the communities that were being reached out to have started to look at the scientific quack-pottery as what it is; quack-pottery. A form of "alternate religion" directly competing with [insert mainstream religion here]; as opposed to being a-religious. That is; not caring about religion or the topics that religion typically covers.

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And it exacerbates the problem we see in Christian circles who definitely believe there is a threat to the Christian religion from the scientific establishment; despite two things being true;

Christians actually learn and practice science. AND The Scientific establishment doesn't care about religion. Only genetics.

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Which raises it's own ethical concerns as certain groups push to create inbreeding programs to ensure the "Purity of the races stay intact."

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Bruh. I just wanna play 90s console games, and listen to some Zeppelin.

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