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holonetnews · 2 years ago

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Under Imperial Eyes

@worldwearyjedi

The Twelve City Loop tram station bustled with activity. The hum of conversations and the distant warble of passing speeders punctuated the air. Alighting from her tram with a graceful ease honed through a lifetime of living on Coruscant, Deena Tharen set off down the platform, the clack of her heels echoing down the long passage. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the crowd for any signs of trouble.

The Imperial Sector Holonet was awash with reports that at a Jedi had been caught boarding a tram from this very station bound for Sah’c Town. From what she had managed to glean, it had become apparent that the Jedi hadn’t made it very far. Nevertheless, the Empire had introduced sweeping new security measures virtually overnight. Imperial Officers flanked by stormtroopers stood resolute at the end of the platform, their bright white armour gleaming even brighter as sunlight settled on it through the skylights.

Deena was thankful she was travelling light. There was hardly any point carrying a bag anymore. Long gone were the days where she would need access to a camdroid or holorecorder at a moment’s notice. She strolled past the orderly line of sentients queuing to have their personal effects examined before being allowed admission into the Federal District, the beating heart of the Galactic Empire.

"Identification, please," one of the officers’ requested, his voice stern and unwavering, his gloved hand motioning for her to halt.

Deena offered a polite smile, reaching into her jacket pocket to retrieve her identification card. As she handed it over, her eyes swept across the checkpoint staff, noticing a subtle tension in their expressions. Whispers passed between the officers, their gazes darting nervously, as if anticipating something imminent.

"Here you go, Officer. Just returning from a business trip. Quite a bustling day in the city, isn't it?"

The officer glanced at her with a hint of suspicion, his gaze flicking between her and the identification card. "Yes, it is," he replied curtly, his tone lacking any warmth.

Deena maintained her friendly facade, though inwardly she felt the weight of the tension in the air. The officer's eyes narrowed slightly, and his grip tightened on her identification card. One of the stormtroopers coughed, the sound awkwardly amplified by their vocoder. The officer grimaced slightly. "Everything seems to be in order, Miss Tharen," he finally remarked, a hint of suspicion still lingering in his tone.

He returned her identification card, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. Deena nodded in acknowledgment, her smile remaining polite but inscrutable. "Well, you're certainly doing a commendable job, Officer. Keeping us all safe."

One of the stormtroopers behind her thumbed their commlink, their voice buzzing with static. “Say again? The Jedi? That’s a negative, command. She hasn’t passed through yet.”

“Move along.” The Imperial Officer ordered. “Immediately.”

Deena's heart pounded in her chest, and she nodded a silent acknowledgement, moving with a renewed haste as she vacated the platform, keenly aware of the eyes on her back. A helplessness fell over her, the same helplessness that had consumed her that fiery night all those years ago, reduced to a watcher as the flames ran up and consumed the spires of the temple.

As she broke out onto the main concourse, her eyes were drawn to a single figure in the sea of faces, a figure that stirred up more memories long buried. Suddenly, the reality of the situation dawned on her. Who it was the stormtroopers had been waiting for. Rush Darkburst, stood near the departures holoboard, scanning the timetables in a manner seemingly oblivious to the imminent danger that awaited.

Acting on instinct, Deena surged forward, her hand shooting out and grasping Rush's arm in a firm, unyielding grip. Rush’s eyes widened in surprise and recognition, a flicker of the past resurrected in their gaze, but Deena's steely resolve brooked no resistance. "We don't have time for questions or hesitation," she hissed, her voice cold and commanding. "You will walk with me, and you will do exactly as I say. Is that clear?"

"Move," Deena's voice sliced through the air, sharp and commanding. There was no room for negotiation, no time for sentimentality. She propelled Rush forward, her touch transmitting a subtle warning, a promise of the consequences that awaited if they strayed from her guidance. Their footfalls melded into the rhythmic flow of the crowd, their progress seemingly unnoticed amidst the swirl of daily life. It was a delicate dance, a ballet of evasion. As they neared the station exit, Deena's grip tightened, her instincts honed by years of navigating the treacherous undercurrents of the galaxy. She deftly guided Rush through the throngs, manoeuvring with a precision that belied the urgency of their situation.

The pair of stormtroopers, their armor gleaming with an oppressive authority, scanned the passing faces with an unwavering vigilance. Likewise, Deena's gaze never wavered; her focus fixed on the troopers looming presence. She could feel the weight of their surveillance, the cold gaze of the Empire bearing down upon them. Just as they were on the precipice of exposure, Deena made a decision. With a swift motion, she yanked Rush into a concealed alcove, their bodies pressed against the shadows. Her grip remained unyielding; her eyes locked on the approaching stormtroopers.

The troopers passed by, their attention consumed by the bustling crowd, oblivious to the pair concealed mere meters away. It was a moment of reprieve, a breath stolen in the face of imminent danger. In the shelter of the alcove, Deena released her grip on Rush's arm, her eyes meeting theirs in a silent exchange fraught with a cacophony of emotions. It was a reunion laced with a bitter mix of history and uncertainty.

"You absolute fool," she spat, her eyes flashing with a mixture of disappointment and rage. "What were you thinking, setting foot on Coruscant? Do you have a death wish?"

#worldwearyjedi #(may have watched andor yesterday)#(so that may have bled into this starter lol)#(I also need another one where the stakes are just a little lower haha)

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g-nicerf · 5 months ago

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DMR818S walkie-talkie Module -- A Long-Distance Intercom Solution Compatible with Digital and Analog Systems

The DMR818S is a 2W long-distance digital walkie-talkie module from NiceRF, featuring a built-in microcontroller, digital intercom chip, and RF power amplifier circuit. This module is compatible with common analog walkie-talkies on the market and also includes digital walkie-talkie functionality. It provides customers with a standardized serial interface, allowing for quick and easy setup of the module's transmit and receive frequencies and contact parameters via serial commands. The high integration of the module enables users to connect external audio amplifiers, microphones, speakers, and other components, allowing it to function as a compact digital walkie-talkie.

In DMR mode, digital walkie-talkies support the following functions:

In DMR mode, digital walkie-talkie modules support multiple functions, including sending SMS communication, voice and SMS encryption, all-call, group call, and individual call functions. Additionally, the module provides call alert, supports caller and callee detection, has a built-in emergency alarm function, and supports voice and SMS applications in both direct and repeater modes.

Analog walkie-talkies support the following functions:

Analog walkie-talkie functions include CTCSS/CDCSS sub-audio settings and adjustable squelch levels. The CTCSS/CDCSS sub-audio settings can effectively reduce interference and improve communication quality. The squelch level adjustment ranges from 1 to 8 levels, with each level differing by 2dBm. The adjustable squelch levels allow users to set the appropriate squelch level according to actual needs, ensuring clear communication.

FCC、CE certification

The DMR818S is produced and tested strictly using lead-free processes, meeting RoHS and Reach standards. The DMR818S module also offers versions that can obtain both FCC and CE dual certification to meet different market needs.

long-distance communication

The DMR818S is configured with a 2W transmission power, allowing for a maximum transmission distance of up to 5 kilometers. Even in environments with multiple obstacles, it maintains signal clarity and coherence.

high integration and compact size

The DMR818 features high integration and a compact size, with a built-in microcontroller, digital walkie-talkie chip, and RF power amplifier circuit. Its small-size design and quick setup via serial commands provide users with an easy-to-integrate and deploy solution, making it especially suitable for applications in confined spaces.

TCXO crystal oscillator

The walkie-talkie module uses a 1ppm TCXO crystal oscillator, ensuring the module maintains precise frequency in various environments, thereby providing stable and reliable communication performance. This high-precision oscillator reduces frequency drift, enhancing the overall communication quality and reliability of the walkie-talkie.

In addition to the above-mentioned features and product highlights, the DMR818S also has the following characteristics:

Dual Time Slots: The walkie-talkie module features dual time slots functionality, which means it can support two independent communication channels on the same frequency. dual time slots technology effectively increases spectrum utilization, allowing more users to communicate on the same frequency without interference. This enhances communication efficiency and network capacity, making it particularly important for environments that require simultaneous handling of multiple communication channels, ensuring a stable and reliable communication experience.

Built-in EEPROM: The walkie-talkie module features built-in EEPROM, allowing for reliable storage and retrieval of configuration parameters and user data. Even after a power loss, it maintains data integrity and security, ensuring the walkie-talkie can quickly restore to its preset state under any circumstances.

Built-in AMBE++ Vocoder: The walkie-talkie module features a built-in AMBE++ vocoder, which efficiently compresses and decompresses voice signals, providing clear audio quality and higher voice transmission efficiency. AMBE++ technology delivers superior audio quality even in bandwidth-limited conditions, ensuring clear and natural voice communication in various environments, thereby enhancing the user's communication experience.

UHF band frequency: 400~470 MHz

VHF band frequency: 134~174 MHz

350 band frequency: 320~400 MHz

Distance up to 5Km

Max power output to 2W, low power to 0.5W

High Sensitivity: -124dBm

Bit error rate down to 1% under -121dBm

Independent frequency for Tx and Rx.

9 adjustable volume

Analog Bandwidth: 12.5 / 25 KHz

Digital Bandwidth:6.25KHz

Message transmission and reception

DMR(Digital Mobile Radio)/ Analog walkie talkie

Built-in EEPROM, data saved even powered off

1ppm TCXO crystal

51 CTCSS

166 CDCSS

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#dmr walkie talkie

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evecolourshock · 28 days ago

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Fic again

Beck grimaces under his mask, trying to salvage the situation. He honestly hadn't meant for Able to hear that, tucked as he is in the rafters of the Garage. A mutter under his breath the vocoder had caught and amplified (going to have to change that, there is such a thing as too sensitive).

"He's young, right? One of your betas." Beck lounges along a beam, trying to ooze confidence the way Tron does. The steady, dependable kind, knowing (or pretending) everything's going to be alright. "The one who lost a friend."

Beck's throat closes up a little. Bodhi, Bodhi, Bodhi. In every single one of Beck's rest mode memory fluxes, when he's not too exhausted to have them. Dying in every single one. Derezzed in the street, in the Games, trapped in an Occupation cell or a Rectifier, gunned down, hacked apart, shocked, beaten, tortured-

Beck doesn't sleep any more, not really. Works until he shuts down instead. It's less harrowing that way - he doesn't wake with Bodhi's choked-off scream ringing in his ears if he does that.

Tron's listening in, Beck knows, even though he doesn't know how. Watching, just in case Beck needs a way out. He doesn't want Tron hearing this, but... that part's out of Beck's control, so he does his best to be mature and lets it go.

"You keep an eye on my kids?" Able asks, a low threatening tone in his voice.

"Only the ones that ask me to." Beck rebuffs, hears Able draw a shocked breath. "He...he's trying to do as you ask. But... it's like the Grid's out to get him, some cycles." Beck draws a shaky breath, this time making sure to keep it below the vocoder's detection level. "He's been- heh. Someone doesn't like him, a lot of people don't like me, when you're both up on rooftops and everyone else is resting you tend to get talking."

"He can talk to me." Able sounds wounded. Beck kind of feels bad about what he's going to say next.

"You told a grieving beta who'd just watched his friend be murdered in front of him there was nothing that could be done." Beck tells him quietly. "Rightly or wrongly, that wasn't what he needed to hear. He needed comfort, a promise to make things right, to feel safe... and he got none of it. He doesn't sleep - still hears his friend's screams every time he tries. He was thrown in the Games - I got him out of that, nearly derezzed us both in the attempt but I had to try - and all he got when he stumbled back in here, shaking and scared and having just been forced to derez others or be derezzed himself, was a demand to know where he had been and no chance for him to explain."

"He doesn't feel he can talk to you - that you'll treat his words as anything more than excuses. He just has me, a Program in a mask who also lost someone important and decided I didn't have anything left to lose so I was going to do something about it. I... might be the only thing keeping him alive." Beck's voice drops quieter, closer to that barely-audible whisper. Because it's true - the Renegade is the only reason he hasn't attempted to go out with a bang. That, and Bodhi's memory. "But someone's got to cut that kid some slack and let him be a kid, and even if it's me..." Beck doesn't know what to say next. Tron's a silent, concerned presence in that strange space-between-space the white disc creates, Able an equally silent half-lit shadow at his desk.

"I'd rather it not be. What I do... isn't exactly conducive to a long runtime." Beck smiles ruefully. "He deserves better. But... if I'm what he has, then I guess I'd better figure out how to be good enough."

He leaves then, unable to stay longer both for any hope of even a little bit of broken sleep and to drop off the report on the new tank upgrades Pavel's demanding so Tron can plan around them. Brushes off Tron's more delicate than usual probing with a brittle smile, makes it back to his room through the window just in time to lie on his berth for a few nanos and stare at the ceiling.

He's probably not sleeping this rest cycle, will have to interrupt his shift over and over for micro-naps so he can at least vaguely function (and invariably piss off at minimum Zed for being unreliable). Again.

Beck lets himself drift, despite knowing the derezolution-filled memory fluxes and his shift-start alert are imminent. Just another cycle for the Renegade.

Able: *sigh*. Beck’s a smart kid…but sometimes he does these things that are just so stupid.

The Renegade: maybe you should get off the kid’s ass

Able: What?

The Renegade: WHAT

#tronfic #ain't no way beck doesn't have nightmares #poor b #let him rest and leave him alone #someone probably thinks beck and the renegade are besties now. able is going to be in for an unpleasant surprise when he realises the truth #mostly that BECK DOESN'T TRUST HIM

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sepublic · 2 years ago

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Let’s talk Soundwave in the Nizziverse. Soundwave and Blaster were both part of the same body frame devised under Fuctionist rule; Members of this niche were designed to act as comms experts, helping to facilitate radio waves, receive and send signals, all that jazz. Some were stationed on colonies to help establish contact with Cybertron, others stayed on Cybertron itself to keep the airwaves running.

It was your typical job of helping with the news, being in charge of transmission towers, often being said transmission towers. These Cybertronians also played a role in decoding and analyzing alien frequencies, as part of the empire’s larger effort to engage with and ultimately conquer other civilizations. Scouts would use sonar imaging to create maps of new worlds and their local terrain.

To aid these Transformers, smaller Cybertronians known as Cassettes were devised, acting as scouts who could record visual and auditory data, before reporting back to a handler to physically connect with them. Data would be transferred, and the handler could act as both storage and transporation, as well as as an amplifier for whatever their Cassettes had observed.

Wireless communications were one way to receive their data, but sometimes the Functionists were paranoid of enemies tuning in to said transmissions and figuring out what the Empire knew; Physical transfer avoided this. Likewise, interference from the local environment was another motivator. Most importantly, the Functionists, for all their faults, recognized the value of physical copies, and the Cassettes were designed among many reasons to serve this purpose, contributing to an effort to create backups and other records to fall back on.

Vocoded voices were the default, as these Transformers could narrow down their tune to impersonate any sound and especially voices for replay function, as well as entertainment purposes too. Many members of this body frame were sociable and often played music to the delight of those around them.

Soundwave and Blaster served this niche in the waning days of the Functionist regime. Blaster did media and propaganda propagation, serving in public radio networks and broadcasts, hence his more extroverted and playful personality. By contrast, Soundwave was a recluse even amongst his fellow brethren, designed to handle long stretches of loneliness in assisting communications between distant colonies and Cybertron. This often meant being stationed by himself on asteroids to boost signals, made not to have a voice or thoughts of his own, but merely to relay those of others.

Soundwave was eventually moved back to Cybertron, to facilitate airwaves in the backwater, quieter regions of Cybertron. Due to his own natural disposition and the conditioning of his environment, Soundwave didn’t really hang out with his coworkers, instead studiously attending to his job before leaving, exactly by clockwork. Contrary to popular belief, Soundwave DID have his own ideas and reflections, but his silent and introverted personality made it easy for people to assume he was just a mindless grunt, a perfect gear for the Cybertronian machine who was bored and aloof.

Some found him a creep or cold, like talking to a wall, others would joke or gossip behind his back with the occasional rumor of what he did back in his apartment. He often became ignored as just a setpiece, a part of the background; But little did people know, they underestimated Soundwave’s ability to observe. He was always listening, and remembering, and in his spare time liked to make physical records to keep tabs on those around him.

Soundwave meant no malice, it was just his only way of socially engaging with others, since doing so in real time was difficult and complicated and constantly changing. But when in retrospect, everything was set and easy for Soundwave to analyze and reflect on afterwards. He had other hobbies and deep interests, enjoying research, and was also dedicated to media preservation, collaborating with others online as a faceless account.

Being online gave Soundwave a lot more freedom to express himself and talk to others in (relatively) real time. He participated in servers where Cybertronians took it upon themselves to gather and record lost pieces of media and history, and this eventually led Soundwave down a rabbit hole into forums filled with rather dissident ideas and data. Due to his expertise, Soundwave was able to keep his location encrypted, safe from government surveillance.

This activity planted certain ideas in Soundwave’s head. So when he did his usual hobby of listening in on local airwaves as a voyeur, he caught wind of a gladiator’s scathing deconstructions of the Functionist regime. Known as Megatron, this local of Kaon waxed poetic in his theses about the government’s corruption and outdated policies, and Soundwave felt himself enamored with the charisma of this mysterious voice.

Megatron had no idea Soundwave was listening, as he was skilled in encryption in ways even official surveyors weren’t. By all means, he should’ve reported this scandal to those in charge of censorship and keeping the peace… But that wasn’t HIS job, technically. So Soundwave didn’t, and fell in love with Megatron’s daring ideas. Soundwave had felt like he led an admittedly empty, meaningless existence, just going on through the motions as an ideal cog in the great Cybertronian machine.

But Megatron’s ideas gave Soundwave purpose, and an actual future to look forward to, rather than an ever-present now. So Soundwave participated in isolated forums dedicated to this growing rebellion, made contact with Megatron behind an anonymous account, and eventually tracked him down. Megatron was deeply surprised and disturbed to be so easily found out, but Soundwave instead knelt and pledged loyalty to his cause, proclaiming Megatron to be a visionary that Cybertron needed.

It quickly became apparent that Soundwave’s unwavering dedication was genuine, and Megatron recruited him as a second-in-command, ecstatic for Soundwave’s talents. Soundwave used his abilities to broadcast and relay Megatron’s speeches across Cybertron, keeping their location hidden while exposing countless Transformers to ideas of rebellion; In the early stages of the rebellion, he was a key founder and player.

His valuable work helped facilitate communications between rebel cells, enabling greater collaboration and effort, and it was in this effort that Soundwave first came across as Blaster, who operated as part of Optimus Prime’s cell. On the surface, Soundwave remained as seemingly aloof and stoic as ever, and many rebels didn’t understand why Megatron held him in such good faith. They figured Soundwave could easily rat them out, especially with his great trove of data and nearly singular access, but Megatron reciprocated Soundwave’s unwavering trust.

Megatron encouraged Soundwave to speak up more, take more of a leadership role, as he became privy to just how much of a thinker he was after Soundwave felt comfortable in opening up and talking about his thoughts to the gladiator. Megatron recognized Soundwave’s potential, although many derided him as an ‘uncharismatic bore’ who was always wandering in his own head. Again, Soundwave played the role of support, but it was a role he actually chose this time; He genuinely believed afterwards that his life had no purpose until he met Megatron.

As Megatron encouraged Cybertronians to think outside of the box and apply their talents in ways the Functionists didn’t intend, but that they were just as good for, Soundwave took his hobby of voyeurism and observation to the next step. When the rebellion became more intense, Soundwave acted as a hacker, working with his Cassettes to spy on Functionists and even those within the rebellion, as a means of keeping tabs on everyone. Soundwave dug up dirt and had it physically uploaded to a hard copy, in case the rebellion ever needed to strong arm someone into cooperating for the greater good.

Soundwave exposed corruption through his work, and used sonar imaging to study what happened inside during stake-outs. His Cassettes infiltrated and downloaded important data, while also uploading sabotaging viruses. Soundwave became a master of surveillance, blackmail, and encryption, and garnered an even worse reputation amongst the rebels for it. He was often considered Megatron’s stooge, his eyes and ears, his little spy; Not that Soundwave minded what others thought of him.

He also stretched the boundaries of his intended role in other ways, eventually learning combat and especially assassination, which Soundwave facilitated through his cassettes. Modifications weaponized his sonar imaging to become devastating sonic blasts, which under the right frequencies could shatter and expose key weak points. Soundwave also used this ability for interrogation and torture, as data continued to become an even bigger part of his existence. His vocoded voice could now be used to impersonate others, essentially catfishing for the rebellion.

Appropriately, Soundwave eventually led a division of others of his body frame who also supported the rebellion. They acted as Megatron’s personal agents, carrying out the aforementioned tasks on an even wider scale. As the rebellion evolved into full-out war, members on both sides spread rumors that Soundwave could even hear the thoughts of those around them, and to be wary as a result.

When the rebellion achieved victory, Soundwave helped personally announce the defeat of the Functionist regime, and the triumph of liberty. He attended celebrations afterwards with Megatron, showing a bit more personality than usual and even letting go a bit, playing music and his favorite tunes. It was during this time of peace that Soundwave got to know Optimus Prime, another one of Megatron’s close friends.

Likewise, as his brethren (such as Blaster) narrowed their vocoders down to individual voices, to assert their own individual identity, Soundwave kept himself vocoded. In his eyes, he was already given a voice of his own by Megatron, and anyhow he had his own duties to attend to.

Under the new government, Soundwave enjoyed much more freedom like every other Cybertronian, and due to his prior combat experience, participated with Megatron in invading other worlds for their Energon; The planet needed repairs after a costly rebellion. The functions of Soundwave’s body type further expanded and were facilitated in such fields with the invention of Reedman’s unique frame (if it can be called that), as Cassettes were now employed and expected in warfare and assassination. Soundwave of course was a key player in displaying and establishing this modern precedent/feature of his type.

Soundwave and his Cassettes’ newly-discovered talents applied on the battlefield as they did against the Functionists, with Soundwave often adopting a new satellite alt-mode to spy on civilizations from orbit. He played a key role in infiltrating and destabilizing societies from within, to set them up for Decepticon invasion; Often collaborating with natives and blackmailing them into service. During the period of open war that followed afterwards, Soundwave would sometimes use the recorded screams of victims as a means of psychological warfare.

When public attention turned towards the dubious ethics of colonization (to put it lightly), Soundwave fanatically sided with Megatron, and thus supported imperialism. He fully trusted in Megatron and believed his leader could do no wrong, having seen how Megatron had brought everyone to glory and liberation under his rule. Accordingly, he dedicated himself to Megatron’s expanded ideas on Cybertronian superiority.

Inevitably, Soundwave and his division evolved into a secret police of sorts, when Megatron expanded his power in a bid to unite Cybertron against these ‘weak-hearted dissidents’ that were showing more dedication to outsiders and enemies than their own kind. Once Soundwave and his brethren broadcasted and spread messages, now they inspected and censored them. They performed surveillance on behalf of the government, cracking down on a new generation of rebels and using their talents for suppression in ways the Functionists had failed to consider.

If Soundwave ever stopped to consider the irony of his situation, he certainly didn’t show it, like a lot of things. Once more his talents applied, and he used his voice to commit what was basically government-backed catfishing, infiltratring forums and impersonating others to root them out. Soundwave worked closely with the Decepticon Justice Division in cracking down on dissidents, blocking their frequencies, interrogating and torturing, publicly defrauding through research and outright lies, the accumulation of blackmail, etc.

Soundwave helped keep tabs on news stations, which put him into direct conflict with Blaster, who felt that the truth could not be suppressed, nor should reports on public opinion, questionable events, and so forth. Blaster thus became a rival and arch-nemesis for Soundwave as the Great War began, between Autobots and Decepticons; Soundwave seeing Blaster as a loud-mouthed blowhard who thrived on the attention of others but had little to say himself, and so compensated by yelling to make the silence of his head seem otherwise. Just a spout of mindless drivel, in his eyes.

As the Great War raged, Cybertron’s Energon count drastically began to dwindle, and many casualties were suffered on both sides. Without the resources to adequately replenish such losses, many cassettes and others of Soundwave’s costly body frame were destroyed and never replaced. As a result, Soundwave and Blaster became rarities, holdovers from a previous age, as did their Cassettes. Soundwave had always been used to being lonely, but not like this, and this gradual extinction further radicalized and vindicated his support for Megatron not just by individual principle, but actual dedication to his ideals as well.

Soundwave blindly supported Megatron in every action, keeping eyes on those within Decepticon ranks, and especially on the new and upcoming Starscream, repurposed from the body of a previous friend of Megatron’s. He acted as Megatron’s devil’s advocate and supporter in his absence, frequently butting heads with Starscream. When Megatron disappeared with the Allspark, Soundwave worked to maintain his authority even when he was gone, and guarded viciously against Starscream’s insinuations that Megatron had detrimentally doomed Cybertron with his Chimera Cube ploy.

This truly proved Soundwave’s loyalty in the eyes of the Fallen, who was impressed by how the Decepticon fought back against Starscream’s suggestions that in his effort to save Cybertron, Megatron had merely screwed over their world and should thus be disregarded in favor of someone who not only meant what they said, but could actually carry it out (Starscream suggested such incompetence was a treachery in its own right, worth posthumously condemning). As a result, the Fallen revealed himself and his hidden mentorship to Megatron, acting on his apprentice’s behalf to maintain Decepticon leadership under the hopes he would one day return.

Soundwave accepted Megatron’s decision to keep the Fallen secret from him without question, as in all his observations and listening, never once did he turn it to his own leader, not even out of idle curiosity or force of non-malicious habit. Through Soundwave, the Fallen kept the Decepticons from falling apart and especially from submitting to Starscream, as he searched for Megatron and the Allspark.

Soundwave was suspicious of Starscream, but ultimately abided in letting him lead a scouting mission on a new potential colony, known as Earth by its inhabitants; Though just to be safe, he assigned his cassettes Rumble and Frenzy to keep an eye. When news of Megatron and the Allspark’s presence there was broadcast, Soundwave immediately relayed the message to Decepticons across the cosmos, trying to encrypt it from Autobot ears, as he headed straight for Earth; A new fire had been re-ignited by Megatron once more, as a day that had gone dark again, was once again lit up.

Alas, Soundwave was nowhere close to Earth when he received an additional update; Not only were his two cassettes dead, Megatron had died by the Allspark itself, which was now lost and destroyed. Soundwave was devastated and refused to believe his leader would be so definitively taken away, after being brought back; But the Fallen’s arcane knowledge reassured him that there was a chance of resurrecting Megatron, thanks to the very means that ended his life.

Soundwave thus worked with the Constructicons, guiding them to Earth as he collaborated with other Decepticon agents, behind Starscream’s back, to revive their fallen leader. Even as the Fallen revealed himself to Starscream and attended to the treacherous lieutenant, keeping him occupied, Soundwave’s efforts successfully retrieved a shard of the Chimera Cube, still lingering with the Allspark’s power, as well as the location of Megatron’s body.

Megatron was revived by the Allspark, which gave back what it had taken, and Soundwave was reinvigorated once more. This time he had a proper reunion and deep thanks from Megatron, who was grateful for his lieutenant; And Soundwave merely dismissed the effort as only natural and expected. Soundwave assisted Megatron in his plot to harvest Earth’s sun, explaining everything he’d missed out on.

After the Fallen was slain by Optimus Prime, Soundwave set to work on a new scheme, collaborating with various humans such as Dylan Gould to use the dark side of Earth’s moon to the Decepticons’ advantage. During this time, Soundwave abandoned his more modern satellite alt-mode and returned to his previous, default frame. The task of surveying Earth from orbit was symbolically assigned to Combaticon Blast Off instead, as Soundwave began to participate in groundwork once again; Something that always heralded the next, most destructive phase of Decepticon invasion… open combat itself.

#maccadam #transformers #soundwave #nizziverse

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galateagalvanized · 4 years ago

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Wait you're taking prompts?? Omg I want to send you multiple hahah uhm how about '8 for codywan' ? I'd love some angst but I'll take whatever you like!

8. Shielding the other with their body

Cody wouldn’t say he has a favorite battleground terrain, exactly. Some are better than others—open ground is great for air support, and evacuated urban environments are well-mapped with plenty of cover—but some are worse.

Much worse.

In fact, Cody might not have one he likes the most, but cave systems are definitely the terrain he likes the least.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Obi-Wan says ahead of him, crouched behind a series of stalagmites as blaster fire reflects on the glistening cave walls. In the dull glow of Cody’s headlamp, he’s been steadily accumulating swatches of mud and grime.

“Which part, sir?” Cody asks, returning a few blasts with his Deece more for appearances than anything else.

“The lack of zombie bugs is nice,” Obi-Wan calls, and a twist of his wrist brings a couple of stalactites down on the droids laying down fire. “And the lack of radioactivity is an extra plus.”

It’s a struggle not to shake the man, sometimes.

“Sir, I’d like to log an official compl—”

Cody cuts himself off when he feels the ground jolt beneath his feet, just a little jump, but enough to make him hold his breath. These are ancient Geonosian caves, he remembers, on the very fringes of their society, and they weren’t made to handle creatures with skeletons on the inside.

Nor a heavy plastoid exoskeleton, if he wants to continue the metaphor.

The ground rolls beneath his feet, then, a massive circular motion like a boat caught in an ocean wave, and kriff, he thinks. The 501st had to blow the hive. They must have triggered something.

In the sharp highlight of Cody’s headlamp, Obi-Wan turns towards him with an arm outstretched. “Cody,” he says, and it’s not his usual here’s the plan tone. It’s just pure urgency, a hindbrain, instinctual kind of worry.

It’s a second of Force-given intuition that saves them both. Cody’s moving before his brain even fully registers the cave columns snapping while the walls and the ceiling and the floor all start, with terrifying cracks, to break apart.

His arms go around Obi-Wan’s waist as he tackles Obi-Wan towards the closest cave wall, away from the spreading devastation in the center of the chamber, where hopefully some structural integrity will be preserved. A limestone block slams into the back of his bucket, and it drives Cody’s head visor-first into the muck next to Obi-Wan’s.

The disorientation lasts until the rocks are settled around and on top of them. Cody comes back to himself slowly, cautiously, mentally mapping out the feeling in his arms and legs. The HUD overlay in his visor is the only thing he can see, and his chest feels like Alpha-17 has him in a full Nelson, but everything is mostly attached. In the bitter darkness, Cody tries to turn his head and can only move a few narrow centimeters to the side.

His visor’s equipped with a lowlight tactical mode, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he turns it on to find Obi-Wan’s mud-striped face directly in front of him. Blood is winding through the dirt dusting his face, turning nearly black on the grainy grayscale image of the HUD.

“Sir?” Cody says, clicking his back teeth to amplify the vocoder’s sound. “Sir, please, I—”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker open with devastating, terrible slowness. “Steady, Commander.”

“Sir,” Cody acknowledges gratefully.

His heart rate starts dropping back down from astronomical heights, and he can feel, now, the warmth of Obi-Wan’s waist beneath his outflung arm, the chum-chum of Obi-Wan’s body keeping him alive, the faint but steady pound of his heart. Cody had landed chest-down beside Obi-Wan with one arm around his general, as if they were partners in some Coruscanti waltz: hip to hip, with their faces turned towards each other.

Cody takes a careful breath and finds his lungs can’t expand quite as much as he’d like them to. His chest armor is trapped between layers of bedrock, and its compressive strength is the only thing keeping him—and, next to him, Obi-Wan—from the crush of the rock above.

The overlying bedrock can’t be too heavy, Cody knows. Plastoid isn’t exactly katarn armor. But it’s enough, he thinks with relief. He can be grateful for ‘enough’.

“Are you okay?” Obi-Wan asks, soft, and tries and fails to shift the arm trapped between their bodies. “Can you breathe?”

“Mostly,” Cody says, and he’s grateful for the rebreather in his bucket. The main problem is the restriction, not the oxygen. “I’ve been demoted to structural support, it looks like.”

“Ha, well. You’ve always had many talents.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, and Cody realizes that he’s been staring into the blinding light of Cody’s headlamp. He swaps to infrared with a couple blinks, but, across from him, Obi-Wan keeps his eyes closed.

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan says, and Cody feels him shifting so that his far hand is tucked next to where Cody’s is wrapped around his waist. With effort, Cody tangles their fingers together as best he can. “But you don’t—you don’t have to keep putting yourself between me and what’s trying to kill me.”

“I don’t think I could; everything’s trying to kill you,” Cody says, but he doesn’t understand. Of course he does, he thinks, wondering if Obi-Wan had hit his head despite Cody’s best efforts. He’d put himself between Obi-Wan and the whole godsdamned universe, if he could.

“Even so,” Obi-Wan says, and it’s not possible, it’s not, but Cody thinks the madder blue gleam of his eyes manages to show up on the infrared. “Your life is worth no less than mine, my dear commander. We do this together.”

With a painful shift, Obi-Wan turns to put one hand up on the press of limestone above them. It doesn’t seem to move even a millimeter, but Cody’s chest can move just the slightest bit more, and he sips in a few more grateful breaths.

“Jorso'ran kando a tome, right?” Obi-Wan says, and something drops low in Cody’s gut to hear his general quoting Vode An, despite the horrible Coruscanti accent.

“We shall bear the weight together,” Cody agrees, soft, even as his heart spins itself like a centrifuge, separating himself into component parts, into duty and honor and an aching, desperate love for the man beside him. Obi-Wan is wrong, for once: there’s nothing Cody wouldn’t step in front of for Obi-Wan. Nothing at all.

His HUD beeps when a signal comes in, filtering through the limestone.

“The 212th have our distress beacon,” he says, and he feels Obi-Wan’s sigh of relief as if it were his own.

“Then we can bear this weight just a little longer,” Obi-Wan says, and he tightens his grip on their tangled fingers, and they do.

Send me a ship & a prompt from here, if you’d like!

#codywan #prompt fills #am writing #ask chel #lightasthesun #i couldn't quit put them at point rain but i did put them on geonosis haha #i'm not well-practiced in writing angst so i hope you like this anyways!#cw: claustrophobia #cw: cave-in

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egregiousderp · 2 years ago

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I have a fairly specific Star Wars focus set.

That aside, it’s stated rather explicitly that the Whills (progenitors of the Jedi and the Sith) don’t have to be force sensitive, but there are moments where they *feel* the force. That’s the way it’s described for Chirrut, who’s blind.

There’s lovely gifs of him keying in on people by ear and even fighting them. (Combination auditory and spatial awareness.)

The whills very definitely also have chants and prayers. (Chirrut’s famous “I’m one with the force and the force is with me. I fear nothing, for all is as the force wills it.”)

But on a more musical note, there’s no reason a force metaphor that usually uses dark and light can’t also use the concepts of resonance or things like the principles of harmonics. (Ie: a frequency or certain call that creates an effect and distinct tone.)

You can honestly use any metaphor you like to try to explain a thing that’s supposed to transcend the senses. Sense data being the limitation of imagination is just a thing for language.

If you want to build a character that works based on sound to explain their sensation or imagining of the force, there’s absolutely no reason not to, or not to build it into a character you think has Sonic-type sensory awareness.

Plenty of species in Star Wars have to amplify voice. The Kel Dor (plo koon’s species) have face masks for oxygen environments that old extra-canon data books stated necessitating shouting every word they said.

And the Ithorians (the ladle-headed looking aliens) have little vocoders at either side of their double mouthes. (And used to have a totally wild planet with spaceships hovering above the surface and wild people living down beneath, implying a very strong and very particular Living Force Type Tradition.) but they probably very definitely have a different perception of Sound.

There is Zero Reason you can’t make up a force sensitive barring tradition, or whichever characters you like. Star Wars is very much a cherry pick what you like and build from there kind of place in my experience. We’re glad you’re here!

I'm still pretty new to Star Wars lore and I got thinking: do Jedi have music in the Jedi temple? Like do they listen to music or play/sing it?

A couple of things point to "yes"! 1. The Jedi have a reasonable amount of cultural influences (like various Padawans follow their favorite racer pilots in Master and Apprentice), so they would be aware of popular songs if they were interested. 2. Cere Junda had a seven-string hallikset that she played as a Jedi, which Cal picks up and plays a song she herself wrote, through his psychometry:

And in Battle Scars, it's confirmed that Cere learned to play when she herself was a Padawan:

And I guess 3: Jedi have art all over their Temple, they have paintings and sculptures and mosaics and etchings all around them, there's no reason music wouldn't be part of their culture, too. You can't tell me a culture that into making statues and artistic swirling etchings on every surface they can get their hands on wouldn't also totally be into singing about it! Worldbuilding for the Jedi has always been thin when you get down to fine details like this, but there's a reasonable amount of material that I think points to a pretty secure "yes"!

#also I really want to see where you’re going with this 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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thekingofgear · 3 years ago

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Thom Yorke’s Setup for The Smile’s Live Broadcasts from London

A shot from the second concert, with Thom singing Open The Floodgates through one of his Audio-Technica Artist Elite microphones.

Vocal Microphone

Audio-Technica Artist Elite AE6100 or AE4100 Thom has four of these set up for the concert: one by his pedalboards, one by his synths, one by the upright piano, and one by the Rhodes piano.

Guitars and Amplifiers

Martin 00-18 acoustic Free In The Knowledge

Epiphone Casino in Sunburst (1962/1963) Speech Bubbles

Epiphone Casino “natural” (1963/1964) The original finish of this guitar was probably sunburst, but it’s so faded that it looks like a natural finish. You Will Never Work In Television Again

Fender Jazzmaster in Olympic White (1964) We Don't Know What Tomorrow Brings

Gibson SG in Cherry-Red (1964) A Hairdryer

Gibson Les Paul Custom in Black (1950s/1960s) It's Different for Girls (Joe Jackson cover)

“upside-down” Vox AC30/6 (1963) Thom’s main guitar amp.

JMI Vox AC30/6 in fawn tolex (1962) Kept behind the other Vox and used as a backup.

Bass Guitars and Amplifiers

Fender Mustang in Olympic White The Smoke Thin Thing

Guild Starfire-II in Cherry-Red (late-1960s) Skirting On The Surface The Same The Opposite

Fender Super Bassman amp head

Fender Bassman 610? cabinet

From the second concert: Thom playing his circa-1963 sunburst Epiphone Casino during Speech Bubbles.

From the second concert: Thom playing his vintage Les Paul during It's Different For Girls.

A Schaller strap lock can be seen in this shot of the vintage Les Paul.

A closeup of Thom’s JMI Vox AC30/6 with fawn tolex. While it’s been his favorite for many shows (including In Rainbows — From the Basement), at this gig it’s only used as a spare for the “upside-down” AC30/6, hence the lack of input. Settings are only marked for the “normal volume” and “tone cut” controls, indicating that Thom only uses the Normal channel. Photo by a.lonsohuerta.

Keyboards

Yamaha U1 upright piano Panavision

Fender Rhodes Suitcase 73 electric piano (pre-1974) Open The Floodgates Only Eyes And Mouth

Waldorf STVC Waving a White Flag (as string synth) Thin Thing (as vocoder)

Moog Matriarch analog synth We Don't Know What Tomorrow Brings

Teenage Engineering OP1 digital synth Free In The Knowledge

A close-up of Thom playing the Rhodes from Open The Floodgates during the first concert.

From the first concert: Thom playing his Waldorf STVC on a string synth setting during Waving A White Flag. His OP-1 pedalboard can be seen resting on the Fender Super Bassman amp beside him.

Effects Pedals

Thom’s pedals are scattered across two pedalboards, plus a few floating pedals. The pedalboard to right of Thom’s mic stand (from his perspective) are for his guitar and bass. That board is configured as three separate signal paths: one for acoustic guitar, one for electric guitar, and one for bass guitar. The pedalboard to the left of his mic stand are for his vocals. That board is also configured in multiple signal paths, allowing Thom to process his vocals in different ways. The floaters are all volume pedals for Thom’s synths and vocal effects chains.

And as usual, this doesn’t include the extra effects added by the FOH mix engineer. There’s doubtless a little EQ, compression, and noise gate on everything. There’s some more overt effects as well, like the vocal delay during parts of Panavision. And note that the vocal effects are all in send-return loops from the FOH mixer.

Vocal Effects Chain 1

Line 6 DL4 (configured as a looper)

Boss FV-30 volume

Boss RE-20 The Smoke Speech Bubbles

Radial Engineering J48 direct box

The FV-30 controls how much of Thom’s vocals are sent to the RE-20 delay. In this video, Thom initially sings a line without delay, then moved the FV-30 to the “toe” position to add delay to his vocals.

Vocal Effects Chain 2

Ernie Ball VP Jr Thin Thing

Earthquaker Devices Rainbow Machine Thin Thing

Boss RE-20 delay Thin Thing

Radial Engineering J48 direct box

The Ernie Ball VP Jr controls how much of Thom’s vocals are sent to the Rainbow Machine and RE-20. Thom can be seen adjusting the pedal repeatedly in this Thin Thing rehearsal video.

Acoustic Guitar Effects Pedals

Boss TU-2/3 tuner

Electric Guitar Effects Pedals

Boss TU-2/3 tuner

Death By Audio Echo Dream 2 delay You Will Never Work In Television Again A Hairdryer

Tortenmann/Telenorida Kompressor TK-23

Tortenmann/Telendoria Overdrive TA-100 A Hairdryer

Earthquaker Devices Astral Destiny reverb A Hairdryer

Death By Audio Interstellar Overdrive We Don't Know What Tomorrow Brings ? You Will Never Work In Television Again ?

Thom can be seen adjusting the Astral Destiny and the Echo Dream during this A Hairdryer rehearsal video.

Bass Effects Pedals

Boss TU-2/3 tuner

Death By Audio Interstellar Overdrive Thin Thing

Tortenmann/Telenorida Kompressor TK-23

Radial Engineering J48 direct box

The direct box splits Thom’s bass signal, so he can send it to both his Super Bassman amp and to the PA.

Synth Effects Pedals

Boss FV500 volume Controls the volume of Thom’s Moog.

TC Electronics Ditto X4 looper Kept on the OP-1 board, used for Free In The Knowledge.

Earthquaker Devices Space Spiral delay Kept on the OP-1 board, used for Free In The Knowledge.

Voodoo Lab Pedal Power 2+ Kept on the OP-1 board, powers the pedals.

Boss FV-30 volume Placed near Thom’s mic stand, controls the volume of his OP-1 board.f

A shot of Thom’s guitar and bass pedals from during the first concert.

From the first concert: Thom playing his Fender Mustang during The Smoke. His two pedalboards can be seen arrayed before him.

#Thom Yorke #The Smile #Radiohead #Panavision #The Smoke #Speech Bubbles #Thin Thing #Open the Floodgates #Free in the Knowledge #Waving a White Flag #We Don't Know What Tomorrow Brings #Skirting on the Surface #The Same #The Opposite #You Will Never Work in Television Again #Just Eyes and Mouth #It's Different for Girls

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sw5w · 1 year ago

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And a Big Turnout Here...

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace

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rainintheevening · 1 year ago

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I have been thinking about this too much.

-Anakin gets taken by Maul for Sidious.

-at first he tries really hard to escape and get back to Shmi

-after Obi-Wan kills Maul on Naboo, Anakin sees his chance and manages to escape back to Tatooine, but Sidious arranges a convenient death for Shmi, so Anakin gives in, and starts getting trained by Dooku (Tyranus). Anakin gets called Vader, until he earns the Darth part when he's like 16 or so. He's very much Sidious’s pet.

-the war starts earlier, partly so Sidious can really test out Vader and his power. He knows the violence of war will really amplify the boy's connection to the Dark side.

-being a Sith apprentice is not fun, but Anakin throws himself into it, because at least they feed him, and Sidious talks kindly to him, and he likes the feeling of having power (but still he knows he's a slave, he also knows he's not nearly strong enough to break free. Maybe one day. Maybe when he's 20 or 25 he'll be strong enough. He knows he'll kill Sidious one day. Knows it in his bones.)

-Obi-Wan does have a different padawan, but I think I'd make an oc.

-Vader wears a black half-mask and still has a vocoder, to make him seem older

-basically Vader and Obi-Wan start running into each other over and over, Obi-Wan usually wins, they become 'rivals', Sidious makes it Vader's mission to kill Obi-Wan. That is actually a problem.

-Obi-Wan is kind to Vader. The first time they fought, Obi-Wan won. The second time, Vader was injured already, and when Obi-Wan beat him, he didn't kill him, he bandaged his wounds and cared for him and talked to him, and kept the clones from roughing him up too much. He escapes.

-the third time they face each other they end up getting buried under a building and Vader is seriously wounded again, and this time they end up sitting in the dark talking for hours

-the way Obi-Wan feels in the Force reminds Vader of his mother

-Obi-Wan takes the leap of asking what his real name is, and he doesn't know why, but Anakin says his name

-Obi-Wan always calls him Anakin after that. He hates it. He loves it.

-Obi-Wan starts trying to win Anakin over. He stops trying to fight him. He even goes so far as to put his life on the line to protect Anakin.

-they form a bond in the Force. They both start feeling the other, even getting visions of the other

-Obi-Wan gets hurt. Anakin saves his life, takes care of him, lets him go. That's when Obi-Wan knows he's making progress.

-Anakin gets convinced to work with the Jedi because they all want the same thing: Sidious to be vanquished.

-in the end, Anakin defeats Sidious to save Obi-Wan, though it almost kills him.

-needs LOTS AND LOTS of little moments of Obi-Wan showing Anakin what love looks like, being gentle toward him, and Anakin being wary at first, but starting to drink it up. This is literally what I care most about and would most want to write.

-also Obi-Wan’s padawan being suspicious at first, but then getting convinced to join OSAS (Operation Save Anakin Skywalker)

After reading a couple of them, I've realised that I am crazy about raised-as-a-Sith Anakin fics, where he starts running into Obi-Wan, like during the war or whatever, and Obi-Wan decides to try to save this messed up kid, because he is just Like That (Qui-Gon taught him well).

#raised as a sith anakin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars au #star wars #raised as a sith anakin au

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g-nicerf · 9 months ago

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What are the characteristics of DMR digital intercom module? How to choose?

The DMR828S is a cost-effective 2W full-featured digital radio module developed by NiceRF. It is compatible with commonly used analog radios on the market and features DMR Tier II digital radio functionality, with a built-in Moto AMBE++ vocoder. The module integrates microcontrollers, digital radio chips, RF power amplifiers, audio amplifiers, and other circuits internally. Customers only need to connect external power sources, speakers, and other devices to operate it as a small digital radio with 16 adjustable frequency channels. Its ultra-compact size also facilitates quick and easy integration into various handheld devices, enhancing the overall performance of end products.

Supported frequency bands and their ranges

Frequency bands and their ranges:

UHF band: 400-470 MHz

VHF band: 134-174 MHz

350 band: 320-400 MHz

Note: Choose one of the above frequency bands.

High Power Mode, Low Power Mode, Long Distance Transmission Mode for Digital Radio Modules

High Power Mode: In high power mode, the module can output 2W of power. In this mode, the transmission distance typically reaches several kilometers or even further. However, the specific transmission distance is influenced by factors such as terrain, buildings, and environmental interference.

Low Power Mode: In low power mode, the output power is lower, typically around 0.5W. Despite the lower power, under appropriate conditions (such as flat terrain or open areas without obstacles), it can still achieve transmission distances of several kilometers.

Transmission Distance: The transmission distance is influenced by various factors, including operating frequency, antenna gain, and environmental conditions. In open geographical environments, using high power mode can achieve longer transmission distances. However, in urban or mountainous areas with complex environments, relay stations or techniques such as using high-gain antennas may be needed to increase the transmission distance.

Dual timeslot communication, with the ability to communicate with repeater stations

Dual Timeslot Communication: The DMR828S digital radio module supports dual timeslot communication, meaning that two independent communication connections can occur simultaneously on the same channel. This allows users to engage in bidirectional communication on the same frequency, enhancing spectrum utilization and communication efficiency.

Repeater Station Communication: The DMR828S digital radio module can communicate with repeater stations. Repeater stations are typically located at elevated positions, providing broader communication coverage and better signal transmission quality. By communicating with repeater stations, the DMR828S can achieve communication over longer distances and maintain higher communication quality even in complex environments.

Full-Featured Digital Radio Module: Technology and Communication Methods

Digital radios utilize digital modulation and demodulation technology, employing digital signals for communication. Compared to analog radios, digital radios exhibit greater robustness during signal transmission, better resistance to interference and noise, and provide higher-quality communication services. Digital communication also allows for efficient data compression, enhancing spectrum utilization.

Communication Quality and Voice Clarity:

Analog Radio Modules: Communication quality with analog radio modules is significantly affected by environmental interference. Factors such as buildings, terrain, and weather may lead to signal attenuation, noise interference, affecting communication reliability and clarity.

Digital Radio Modules: Digital radio modules typically offer better communication quality as they use digital signal transmission and are often equipped with error correction and compensation technologies, which can overcome signal attenuation and interference to some extent.

Voice Clarity:

Digital radio modules typically provide clearer audio as digital signals exhibit better interference resistance. Even in noisy or signal-attenuated environments, digital radios can deliver relatively clear, nearly distortion-free audio.

Functionality and Data Transmission:

Digital radio modules offer far richer functionality compared to analog radio modules. In addition to high-quality voice communication, digital radios support data transmission, enabling the transfer of text messages, images, videos, and other multimedia data. This flexibility makes digital radios more versatile in applications such as monitoring, remote command, and control.

Security and Encryption Technology:

Digital radios utilize advanced encryption technology to ensure communication security. The encryption capability of digital communication far surpasses that of analog communication, mitigating security threats such as eavesdropping and malicious attacks, making digital radios advantageous in fields requiring high confidentiality.

Overall, the combination of dual timeslot communication and repeater station communication in the DMR828S enables it to provide reliable communication services in various application scenarios, particularly suitable for situations requiring wide-area coverage or communication in complex environments, such as commercial, public safety, emergency rescue, outdoor activities, etc.

#lora module #wireless module #DMR

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 4 years ago

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Son of Sith - Dark Luke AU Oneshot

Luke huffed as all the air was forced out of his lungs; a graceful but rough heel kick aiming a perfect jab right into his mid torso. Augmented by the Force, it sent him flying until he ended up tumbling across the sleek auburn stone floors of the training hall. He skidded to a clumsy halt; bare forearms rubbed raw and sore from the neatly polished finish. He gasped for breath; instinctively reaching for the red saber that ought to be strapped to his belt while he pulled himself up to his knees.

Only to find it wasn't there; and no amount of blind fumbling would reveal the weapon he was so desperately searching for. Had he dropped it? Before he had a chance to relocate the missing saber; another sharp kick to the side of his waist had him rolling over onto his back, wincing and grunting in pain.

"You disappoint me, Skyguy. Me and your father," said his adversary; her mocking tone sharp as glass.

“Don’t call me that,” Luke scoffed in a choked voice, narrowing his blue eyes at the taunt - he’d never been fond of that particular nickname.

He blinked; head spinning as he attempted to see straight. Vision blurred by sweat and exhaustion; clumps of matted sandy blonde hair falling into his field of view. He had known he'd be training intensely to perfect his powers with the Dark Side; he'd just never known that his teacher would be so ruthless. When Father had found him, he’d assumed he would be the one to train him. He’d been sorely wrong.

Instead, the Master that now stood over him was a female Togruta. Her muscular arms folded over her chest; her stern face clearly displeased and disappointed by the easy defeat. Her red dual blades turned off and clipped to her sides. Her magnificent montrals sticking out like a twin pair of horns making a crude crown atop her head; the lekku twitching faintly where they rested over her tense shoulders.

Her sickly yellow ember eyes glowing in the dim light of the vast cavern of the space surrounding them. Half of the rooms of Father’s castle lay underground; carved into the natural cave system of Mustafar's constantly reshaped lavascape. It didn't help that the heat - and stench - of molten rock was constantly perforating the atmosphere.

“Know your place,” she reprimanded; in the same sharp tone as previously - but with a venomous bite to it.

Luke flinched.

"I'm sorry. I can do better," he finally gulped when he caught his breath enough to find his voice; struggling to sit up straight as he wiped a thin trail of blood off the corner of his lips.

His entire abdomen was pulsing with a sore, mellow pain. He pressed one palm against the spot he'd been hit initially; rubbing in slow circles to soothe. Watched as Master rolled her eyes dramatically. She’d always found his sensitivity to physical injury pathetic.

"You better deliver on that promise, Skyguy. You keep whining about how you wish to train with your father. If you can't even best me, how do you expect to stand a chance against his prowess?" she said - it stung to hear it, but her words were true.

"I'll train harder. I can do it," Luke pressed; tone slightly high pitched with disappointment and defeat.

Rare was the time Father had any time for him. Of course, being the Emperor's right hand would see to making him a busy man. But still. Luke lowered his gaze in shame; watching out of the corner of his eye as Master called on the Force and his saber came flying through the air like a pet to its owner. He should have been the one to pull that move. It was an intentional deprecation.

"You need to focus. No amount of hard training can keep your head on straight if you don't learn to focus properly."

“I will, just give me some time.”

“You’ve had all the time in the world, and you’re still stuck in the same spot. You need to start drawing upon your emotions, you keep holding back. It serves you no good, except for getting you killed faster.”

Master carelessly tossed Luke’s saber in the air a couple of times, as a cruel taunt. She appeared to be contemplating, before stopping to give him a predatory smirk.

"You are aware your father is supposed to regard your progress, aren't you?" she said; and Luke watched as she turned her head towards the hydraulic doorway. “As a matter of fact, he disclosed to me that today would be the ideal opportunity.”

Luke felt his heart sink; he'd been too distracted by the combat to even notice the familiar icy presence creeping nearer. Yet now, as the automatic doors whooshed open; he shuddered. Skin prickling; the hairs at the back of his neck standing on end.

Master was strong with the Dark Side; but it was nothing compared to Father. As he strode through the doorway; bending slightly to accommodate his height while entering, the sinister icy tendrils of the Dark were already discernible from his aura. Like invisible tentacles, prodding and cutting through their surroundings like freezing, razor sharp needles. Piercing anything that stood in their way. Luke fought back the urge to wrap his bare arms around himself; to shield himself from the frigid cold.

Still, Father walked right up to them. Back straight and confident, helmeted head held high with pride. Shoulders broad, cape black as tar trailing behind his large form. The skull-esque face plate harsh and emotionless as always; the tinted lenses reminiscent of a bug's eyes. Void, null of expression. Luke staggered as he pulled himself up onto his feet; grimacing at the sharp burn in his side and his ribs.

"Father," he said; bowing his head out equal amounts of awe and courtesy.

Master stepped aside; silently mirroring the small bow of acknowledgement. She stood still as a statue; a coy, amused sneer playing at the corner of her lips. Sharpened white teeth peering out.

"My son. I was assured that you were to be making progress in your training. Still, I find you bereft of your weapon and pitifully defeated."

Luke winced; shoulders coming up as he took in Father's disapproval. It always hurt; always made him feel like a failure. He could feel it through their bond; the anger and displeasure seeping from Father’s overpowering Force signature. Stabbing into his psyche, as if intent on drawing as much humiliation out of his son as possible.

It was working.

"Forgive me, father. I’ve disappointed you," Luke mumbled in a sheepish voice; folding his hands over his hips, legs wobbling just a tad beneath his weight.

"Indeed. You wish to be my apprentice, but you have a long way yet to go. The Grand Inquisitor is correct in her judgment. If you cannot best her skills, you have not yet honed the power necessary to excel as my pupil. You need to continue your current training, and master it before you can request for me to take time out of my schedule on your behalf."

Father was right.

Still, Luke scowled. He'd thought he was doing well in predicting Master's movements, up until the last moment. He was getting faster, and he was getting better at blocking her assault. He was getting better at reading her body language, her saber technique. But he was sloppy, and easily disoriented.

"I sense that you are displeased with my verdict. Do you wish to speak up and voice your opinion?"

Father's booming baritone voice - amplified through the vocoder - seemed to bounce off the walls like a sinister echo; like a thousand demonic whispers. Master quirked an eyebrow at him, her curious gaze shifting between father and son a couple of times. Luke regretted thinking it, but he couldn't back down now. Father expected him to speak up, or else he would not have addressed it.

"I... I am getting better. Master tells me I need to focus, but I am faster, and I have learnt to better foresee her actions. I have evolved, and I’m sure I can live up to your expectations.” He paused. “I am not a failure."

"You are not. But you are not yet a success, either. Son, you need to know your place and you will not receive my praise until you have mastered your training."

“But I can be a success! Just let me--”

“Patience,” Father cut him off mid sentence, tone demanding; almost threatening. “Know your place. However, I find there is value in your persistence. That is to be encouraged.”

Luke bit back a retort; and if Father could sense it, he didn't pry or scold. Instead, he turned his masked head slightly towards Master; pointing one finger at her. Confusion coloured the boy’s expression; and he regarded with inquisitiveness the wry look in Master’s golden eyes.

"Grand Inquisitor.”

“Yes, Lord Vader.”

“I shall be most pleased to see you resume your schedule. I will be watching intently."

Father stepped back, striding swiftly over to the corner of the training hall. His breathing apparatus an ominous reminder of his presence, even while mostly out of sight in the heavy shadows.

It was only then that Luke realized Father intended to watch him fight. He felt a flush colour his cheeks; the fear and insecurity of failing in front of him mortifying. Still, as Master tossed him his saber and he caught it mid air; he tried to brace himself. Placed his feet wide apart, for a steady stance. Watched Master switch on her blades; twirling them a couple of times as an intimidation tactic.

Then, she charged.

Luke parried and blocked the first crimson saber, before spinning out of the way for the second. He crouched; the smell of singed blonde hair as one blade cut through the air mere inches above his head pricking his nostrils. The sound of Father's respirator loud in his ears; stifling every other noise. He couldn't hear the squeak of their boots sliding against the floors. Couldn't hear the steady hum and crackle of their weapons. Couldn't hear his own heavy breathing, or the hurried hammering of his own pulse as his heart pounded frantically against his rib-cage.

In the split of a second, Master was on him again. She was always light on her feet. Lithe, agile, quick and cunning. Luke knew Father had trained her to be clever, to take advantage of her adversaries' weaknesses - and their strengths. He had seen her battle and defeat Force wielders three times her size; out of sheer strategy and power of will. Narrowing his eyes; Luke ducked to the side to avoid another swing; blocking the second saber aimed his way by drawing upon the Force to shove Master back.

She responded by making a graceful twirl; landing on her toes before flying back at him. Bouncing; as if she weighed nothing, defying gravity. He blocked her; stumbling a couple of steps backwards but holding his ground.

Suddenly, the anger was welled up inside. Red hot, burning like a crackling flame - blazing like a firestorm. He knew Master wished to humiliate him before Father, wished to prove both Father and herself right. It fueled his rage; and he channeled it the way he was supposed to. Let it flow through his limbs; into his core. Surging through his veins with each heartbeat. He felt brighter; clear headed. Sharp minded. His sight amplified; focused. As Master came back around, spinning through the air; he blocked both her sabers with his.

This time, Luke didn’t falter.

Master aimed her heel at his already sore side, digging it in; but he hardly felt it. It was as if his body wasn't his own, but a vessel. As if he was standing outside himself. Instead; his only reaction was a frustrated grunt and a staggering step backwards before he grabbed her ankle tight with his free hand. His mechanical hand - the one Father had sliced off without remorse, to teach him the value of loss and preservation. Using the Force as his aid, Luke used his hold on her to toss her back. A shock wave shooting through him; the power of the Force overwhelming and exciting as it rolled off of him.

She hit the floor on her side, shoulder first; but quickly turned the tumble into a graceful somersault, landing on her feet. Yet, the white markings of her brows were raised in surprise; she seemed almost stunned by sudden display of dexterity. It was the first time Luke had managed to stay standing; and to strike back.

Still, as the high of the moment wore off; Luke flinched at the mulling ache in his side returning full throttle. He expected Master to attack once more, now that he’d let his guard down and was vulnerable again; expected her to knock him off his feet and officially defeat him in front of Father.

Instead, she stood down. Turning her sabers off, and clipping them to her belt again. She stood up straight; glancing in Father's direction and giving him a curt nod. Her golden eyes gleaming.

"Impressive."

Father's voice was too loud where it spoke up from the shadows. Luke raised his head; wiped his sweaty forehead with his shirt as Father took a couple of long steps towards them. Now he had his arms folded. The reflection of the far off glow of lava streams outside the palace walls illuminating his mask in an eerie, insidious fashion. It almost appeared to be grinning; a grim, chilling trickery of the light.

"Perhaps, there is still hope for you, my son. You must learn to draw more frequently upon the Dark Side, if you wish to face me as an adversary and tutor. This is but your first step, but it holds formidable promise."

Father paused, as if he was contemplating something. He tilted his domed head barely notably to the side; and Luke felt the weight of the older man’s gaze upon him. Heavy, like a burden, or a sodden weight. Almost too hard to bear. The needles of the Dark Side piercing through his flesh; his very bones.

“However, I believe there are things that your master cannot adequately teach you. Perhaps, it is time I teach you to tap further into your anger. Meditation shall be your guide. The potential is there, now you need hone your natural talent into perfection. I shall take it upon myself to instruct your further advance.”

Luke's eyes widened; and he had to fight back the urge to gape, hope blossoming within his chest. This was the closest thing to a true compliment his Father had offered, his eyes darting off to Master's face and her expression hinted at thinly veiled proud. Pride in the face of her own accomplishments no doubt; but it reaffirmed Luke’s assumptions.

Luke knew Master only ever wished to please Father, much the same as he himself did. He knew they had long been master and apprentice, even before they both found strength with the Dark Side. Had peered into the records when on his own; had studied their profiles from the days of the Jedi Order - something he would never reveal to them.

Still, they shared a strong bond, not commonly found in Sith and their pupils. Luke envied the favour Master had with Father, wished to one day overthrow her and take her place by his side. Even though another part of him wanted to feel guilt for merely thinking the thought. But it was expected, Father had explained long ago. It was the custom; there were to be but two Sith. Which was why the Emperor must not know of his training; or their scheme. Still, for now, Luke was humbled to be schooled by Father's most esteemed Inquisitor. It was enough.

"Thank you, Father," he finally managed to stutter out, turning his own saber off so as not to awkwardly stand there with his weapon still in hand.

"Indeed. Now, I wish for the both of you to join me, for I have received valuable information regarding the Rebellion. Grand Admiral Thrawn is already in the midst of engaging their hopeless ground forces, and I would like to send you both to his aid - and mine. But we shall discuss this further in his company."

Luke swallowed hard; a nervousness settling like a lump at the base of his throat. It would be his first actual task off world. His first mission, alongside Master of course, but Father had never before requested he fight alongside the troops.

"Come."

"As you wish, milord," said Master; head held low in submission as she followed behind while Father had already begun to make his way towards the single exit-way; only beckoning them with one gloved finger.

Luke nodded silently; scurrying rather unceremoniously behind them to catch up once his feet decided to cooperate. Still, as he walked at a quick pace through the corridors of pristine black durasteel and auburn rock formations; he felt proud. He must have been making progress, for Father to think him skilled enough to join the ground forces on the battlefield. It was the break he'd been waiting for, for the last year and a half.

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

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223513

Link to Ao3 version above, reposted from my original account.

Artwork by @thebixo inpsired by the fic below:

52 notes · View notes

madhyanas · 5 years ago

Text

the sweetest and most important sound

Part [TBD] of the Hospitality series

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Rating: T/PG-13 (Mainly due to verbal teasing and extremely mild language)

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: None, really. Some non-sexual intimacy, if you’d like to avoid that.

A/N: this is my first fic that’s staying posted, so feedback is welcome. i do have a series in mind with paz and this specific reader. check it out on ao3, too, if you want to see more detailed tags. title comes from a quote by dale carnegie.

big inspirations for this were @no-droids, @vercopaanir and @its-alltheway. also, i’m very new to tumblr, and @jangofctts has been lovely :)

Golden.

That’s what you see, what you feel. Stopped on some backwater, Outer Rim planet, your little travelling party finally has some time to relax. To tread on soft, grassy earth, and breathe in the sweet scent of flowers in the breeze. It’s a welcome change from recycled air and solid, mechanical floors.

The fresh, crisp forest atmosphere. You can taste it on your tongue, feel the chill of it as you inhale. You can detect the fragrance of berries, somewhere far off in the trees, and the earthy, waterlogged scent of silt closer by. A stream, perhaps.

You don’t know the name of the planet; you didn’t bother to ask Mando, excited as you were. You suspect it doesn’t have one; so untouched by war and Imperial rule that it just… remained. Literally, a land that time forgot. Someplace so out of the way that it soothes even Mando’s constant vigilance.

Two suns set over the horizon, and the sky is a dreamy blaze of orange and violet. Insects buzz faintly in the background, and you sigh.

The Hawk IV stands behind you, hatch down, as you rearrange some logs around Mando, who’s preparing firewood. Vosca’s giggles fill the air as she scampers through patches of tall grass. Keeping a close eye on her, you catch flashes of a crimson forehead as she stalks some kind of creature. A frog, you think.

The mild, familiar scent of her is comforting. You rub the white, geometric markings on your cheeks absent-mindedly, and will yourself to relax. She’s close, she’s safe, she’s happy.

It’s a nice thought to have.

“Give me a moment. I’ll be back,” Mando says suddenly, and you blink. The fireplace is lit, you notice, flames crackling. Your sturdy canvas satchel has been moved to sit upon one of the logs, noticeably dusted off. He stands, patiently waiting for you to respond before he goes. Helmet inclined towards you with a respect that manages to warm your cheeks every time.

“Ah, yeah. Of course.” You pause, and joke, “Just don’t run away with the ship, huh?”

There’s a burst of static through the vocoder, and you think it could be a snort, before he steps forward. His gloved hand falls on your shoulder, and you swallow thickly at the closeness. A scant few inches lie between the tip of your nose and his cuirass. “I would never.”

There’s a depth to his low voice that resonates within you. As if he’s taking an oath, kneeling at your altar. It’s… a lot more sincerity than you expect.

“Oh. Well, of course. I think Vosca would throw a fit.” You grin, attempting levity, but he shakes his head firmly. Leaving no room for debate.

“Even then, even if she were with me. I would— I would not leave you. I could not.”

The hand on your shoulder squeezes gently, and his helmet inclines down to your face, like he’s imploring you to understand. Staring up at him, your lips part as his meaning finally reaches you. His broad figure is backlit by the dusky glow around you, casting his silhouette over your smaller frame, and you like to think that behind the helm, those eyes are staring back with just as much wonder.

Your mouth is dry, as if you’ve crossed a desert for years. Only now finding the water to quench your thirst. His hand on your shoulder, as heavy and muscled as you know it to be, does not feel like a weight. It’s pulling you up, rising, and there are no words to describe the lightness in your heart.

He ducks his head then — the movement registers as shy, impossibly — and the palm slides off your shoulder, lingering down your arm, before ultimately leaving you at the hand. The cool kiss of leather on your skin makes your breathing hitch. A modulated sigh, before he repeats softly, “I’ll be back. Faster than you know.” He turns and begins the short walk to the ship.

There’s a bubbling urge to say something. “No need for dramatics,” you call after him, wiggling your toes in your boots. “But best hurry back, Mandalorian.”

He hesitates, a split-second pause that you would have missed, had you known him any less. You almost think you’ve imagined it, because when have you ever known Mando to hesitate? But then he continues without looking back, disappearing into the hull of the ship.

You slump down on a log bonelessly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. Your cheeks ache, and you realise you’re smiling.

“Ruusaan, Ruusaan!” A whirlwind of scarlet limbs tumbles in front of you. Startled, you blink at the little Zeltron girl. It’s rare that anyone manages to get the jump on you, but by now you know that Mando and his ward are exceptions to almost every rule in your book.

There are leaves and twigs stuck in the two brown braids running down the back of her head. She grins toothily at you, a smear of dirt on one cheek. Really, it’s more a bearing of teeth than anything else, feral thing that Vosca is. Her eyes are bright, shining with the thrill of a successful hunt, and she thrusts her little arms towards you. “Look what I caught!”

In Vosca’s grimy grasp, there’s a blue, particularly fat creature, rather like a toad. Held at the middle, its six limbs dangle loosely at the sides. Your nostrils flare minutely, but can’t pick up any scents of poisons or toxins, and you relax a fraction. It casts an unimpressed gaze over you once, and attempts a croak, but the child’s clutching grip digs in too deep to allow for the swell of its belly. Those lazy, golden eyes widen in panic, and you balk.

“Hey, bug, let’s just put it down for now, yeah?” Hastily, you extract the toad from Vosca’s hands, and she pouts at you. You still, and cradle your palms around the creature’s stomach, fingers resting gently on the front, in a caress rather than a pincer-grip.

“See here,” you explain, leaning in, as if you’re trading secrets. She ducks her head towards you in curiosity, and there’s a burst of tenderness in your chest. “We’ve got sharp, pointy fingers for animals like these. Gotta be careful. Be soft with it.”

Vosca’s eyes widen and she nods her head vigorously. A few dried leaves fall to the ground. A beat, then she asks shyly, “Can I try, please?”

Always so polite. While you don’t know for sure, you suspect it’s Mando’s influence. In any case, you don’t think you could deny her even if she’d demanded it. “Sure, bug.” Gently, you pass the toad back into her dusty, red palms. With a watchful eye, you see how quickly she takes to correction. Now holding the scared little thing with more care, less force. Precariously tilting it onto her chest, she frees one hand to stroke it tenderly across the back. The corner of your mouth ticks up fondly.

Then, carefully, she kneels down, and releases it. The toad immediately hops away into the tall grass with a vengeful ribbit, and your brows raise. Sensing the question on your face, she turns her face up to yours, doe eyes blinking up at you.

“It wasn’t prey,” Vosca says simply. “S’just for fun. Wouldn’t be fair to hurt it.” She shoots you another toothy smile, filling her whole face with innocent joy.

Huh. Always keeping you on your toes, this one. You return her grin as she sits next to you on the log. “Ah, that’s right, bug. Good girl.”

You lift your arm and she snuggles into your side, her scrawny body fitting into yours neatly. Lovingly, you press a kiss into her hair, eyes falling shut. You keep your head resting on hers, and she heaves a sigh as you idly stroke through the loose strands at the nape of her neck.

This is how Mando finds you, later. Half-asleep, curled around each other. Your eyes open at the fuzzy, tingling feeling on the back of your neck, and lo and behold: he’s watching you as he makes his way towards the makeshift campsite. His gait is familiar to you; the broad saunter of a man confident in his abilities, yet not foolish enough to be cocky. As if he couldn’t fill up a room already, his walk only amplifies his presence.

You blink lethargically, trying to focus. The sky is now a deep indigo, the bare beginnings of twinkling stars appearing across the heavens. It’ll be fully dark, soon.

The Mandalorian comes to stand over you. Once, you would have found his constant presence menacing. But now you smile at him, grateful for his company. It’s sweet, you think, how awkward he is. If you know what to look for. Most don’t have the chance to look beyond the beskar, and the assortment of weapons he lugs around.

He seems… duller, somehow. You shake your head lightly, dusting off the lingering fatigue, and you realise it’s true in the most literal sense. He’s not reflecting light as much as you would expect.

Aside from the helmet, he wears no beskar at all. Dressed in a dark, high-necked, shirt and canvas trousers, Mando seems comfortable. Relaxed. It’s a good look for him, you think.

“Did she fall asleep?” he asks you, nodding at Vosca, nuzzled in your arms. Her head emerges from where she’d buried it in your side, yawning blearily.

“I’m not… M’not sleepy,” she whines, squishing a chubby cheek against you. You and Mando both chuckle.

“Of course not, ad’ika.” You think he’ll hold his arms out to hold her, pick her up, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he just takes a seat next to you. The log creaks under his bulk, even without the added steel.

Vosca grumbles something under her breath, and you snort as she wriggles further into your warmth. She slumps bit by bit, falling asleep once more. You glance down at her, and the love you feel is all-encompassing.

Because you do love her. Your girl, just as much as she is Mando’s. You don’t know if she thinks of you as a mother, and the thought stings a little. An aunt, perhaps?

But without a doubt, you know she’s your child.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as a weight settles over your shoulders, and you look at the man next to you. Mando’s draping a cloak over you, tucking it around your frame and over the little girl in your arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you recognise the sturdy, brass-coloured clasp as his own.

“O-oh. You don’t have to…”

“You’ll get cold.”

He shuffles closer to fasten the clasp. As he raises his gloved hands and leans in, you wet your lips nervously.

His helmet shifts, ever so slightly, to follow the motion.

“But what about you?” you ask quietly, heart hammering in your chest. His long fingers meddle with the clasp at your clavicle; the weight of them on your person seems astronomical, for such a small, small thing. In the shining surface of the helmet, you can see the outline of your face, small and vaguely illuminated in the firelight, framed by those bold white strokes. But when you see them in Mando’s helmet, for once, you don’t think of your father’s matching stripes, of what you inherited from him. You think of how close you two are, in this moment.

He’s so close you can hear him breathe, too faint to be picked up by the modulator. There’s a small puff of air, escaping under the lip of his helm. Raw, unfiltered. You cling to it with all your heart.

“I will be fine, Ruusaan,” he rumbles. He’s leaning over Vosca’s snoozing body between you, arching carefully so he doesn’t disturb her. He’s… really quite close now.

Inhaling as subtly as you can, you catch the scent of him. Lingering on the thick wool, a clean blend of soap, blaster residue and freshly cut grass. Something smoky, too. It’s more soothing than you expect. Involuntarily, your nose twitches in delight, and his helmet tilts a fraction in response. You rush to distract him.

“But— But the armour.” Mando stares. “You’re not wearing any. Isn’t it cold? With— Without it, I mean.”

He dodges the question entirely. “Would you like me to put it on?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, sweetening his low baritone, and he quietens to a murmur as he sticks his head forward condescendingly. “I understand if this is too… scandalous."

You stifle an outraged squawk, and remove an arm from holding Vosca to swat his bicep. Your hand bounces harmlessly off corded muscle and you look away from him, cheeks burning. He just laughs at you, muffled for fear of waking the girl at your side.

You huff, resolutely averting your gaze, but it’s for naught. A large palm comes to cradle the side of your face, and your face feels tiny in its hold. He directs your eyes back to the visor with more care you’d ever expect, had you not known him so well. The smooth leather against your cheek is grounding, an anchor amongst the dizzying, overwhelming ocean of his presence. Surely, he can feel your flaming blush through the glove. In your embarrassment, a peculiar strike of courage grabs you by the throat.

With your free hand, you hold the glove cradling your face. Without taking your eyes off him, you lean into the touch, exhaling gently.

Mando stills. You can’t tell who’s predator or prey, here. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Deliberately, you squeeze your fingers around his own and an unfamiliar, choked noise comes out through the modulator.

You stare at him, and realise there’s hardly any distance between you. It’s nothing obscene, never could be with Vosca dozing in your arms, and yet you feel so giddy. There’s a type of intimacy here that you’ve never experienced before, never imagined before.You’re close enough that your breath fogs on the beskar.

“Mando…” you breathe.

Suddenly, the figure between you stretches awake with a yawn. You jump away from Mando as Vosca awakens with a long, languid yawn. The man beside her, a little subtler, leans back with the fluid, practiced grace of a warrior.

“Are you okay, Ruusaan?” she asks sleepily, oblivious to the moment now broken. She pulls the cloak away from her to face you properly.

“W-what? Of course I am, hun, why…”

“S’just,” she starts, rubbing one eye. “I got woken up. Your heart’s beating really fast.”

Your eyes widen. Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. You try to backtrack, “How about you go back to sleep, bug? It’s late.” You can feel Mando’s stare on you. Piercing, even through the steel.

Vosca frowns at you, scrunching her nose up endearingly. “But then you and alor’ad will be without me.”

After a moment of floundering, struggling to come up with an answer, Mando beats you to it. Planting a gentle, reassuring hand on her head from behind, he says simply, “We’ll never be without you, adi’ka. You know this.”

She leans her head completely backwards, and her braids dangle in the air. Arching her neck to look at him upside down, the vibrant red of her skin reflects in his helmet. There’s a flash of hesitation as she considers, and you jump at the opportunity.

“Bedtime, bug,” you say, standing. Mando’s nearly your height, you notice, even as he sits. You stuff the thought down. Later. “Got a big day tomorrow.”

Vosca mutters something under her breath moodily — something about how everyday’s the same — but her eyelids are drooping, and you figure you can let it slide. Just this once.

Maker, you’re impatient.

You sigh. Again. You hate to undo Mando’s work, but… “C’mon, hun. Floor’s more comfortable.” You undo the clasp deftly, and some subconscious level, it occurs to you that Mando is dextrous. More so than anyone you’ve ever met, probably. Fastening the clasp would take seconds.

No reason for him to linger as long as he did.

You smile faintly to yourself, and the ever-present heat burning in your cheeks this evening unfurls through your face.

You bundle the girl in Mando’s cloak as she lays down in the shallow grass. Tugging your canvas bag towards you, and place it beneath her head.

Kneeling down next to her, you stroke her hair once, twice. “G’night, alor’ad, g’night, Ruusaan,” Vosca mumbles, eyes falling shut once more.

“Goodnight, bug.” You lean down to peck her forehead tenderly, and she snuggles into her covering.

“Goodnight,” Mando returns kindly. At last, when you’re convinced she’s really out for the count, you steel your courage and look back to him.

From this angle, he’s glowing. Your lips part in wonder as you marvel at the rolling flames reflecting in the helmet. The flickering bronze and gold and scarlet washing over his bulky frame, defining the hard lines of his arms and chest beneath the shirt like something out of a painting. A relic of another time. Beautiful in its detail. Regal, even when most relaxed.

Silently, he holds a gloved hand out to you. You blink at it for a moment, too overwhelmed by this man you know so little about but oh, would you like to learn.

You take his hand, and suddenly he’s pulling you up with him to stand. Stumbling a little, your other palm comes to steady yourself on his chest. The movement feels so natural, so instinctual, and you worry you’re being presumptuous.

But then Mando’s free hand comes to rest on your waist — “Oh.” — and all other thoughts leave your mind.

“She’s asleep,” he notes, and you can feel his deep voice rumbling. Through the shirt, vulnerable and unprotected, his chest lies beneath your fingers. Solid muscle, yes, but there’s the soft give of flesh just like anyone else. It’s… nice. Pleasant, in the way it reminds you how human he is. How he lets himself be, in these fleeting moments of peace.

You hum. “Finally.” The hand on his chest gradually makes its way up his pectoral, tracing the ridge of his clavicle, before coming to rest on his shoulder. Without the pauldron, you can feel just how taut he holds himself. “Relax, Mando,” you whisper, rubbing your thumb back and forth in an attempt to soothe whatever’s running through his mind.

“Could tell you the same,” he replies smoothly, but you feel the strain in his shoulders lessen slightly under your gentle ministrations. The helmet tilts forward to hover next to your ear; it’s somewhat awkward, with how much he needs to bend down to do it, but that’s alright, you think. “Careful, Ruusaan. Does your heart still beat so quickly?”

Your jaw clenches momentarily, if only out of sheer embarrassment, because you know he’s right. “That’s— that’s not— Come on, Mando.”

The man chuckles, and at this meagre distance, you can feel it in your soul. Straightening just a little, he rests the side of his helm against your head. Not leaning, per se, or applying weight. Just touching. Keeping contact. The cool surface of beskar feels chilling against your molten cheeks.

With the hand joined with his, you curl your fingers, embracing the gaps between his. You both linger like that, for a while. Basking in the haze of firelight and safety; frozen in a half-dance, holding each other contently.

Then you realise. In another, strange instance of boldness, you murmur, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed yours either, smooth talker.” The reassuring thud thud thud beneath your fingertips is steady, as always. But you feel it’s more insistent, more urgent than you’d expect.

He doesn’t stutter or fumble like you do, but there’s a bashful sort of groan through the vocoder. It really shouldn’t be endearing as it is. “Ah, well. Seems I’ve been caught.” He plays along in a plaintive, mournful tone, and you stifle a snort. “Can’t be helped, I suppose.”

You nudge the helmet with your cheek playfully. “Oh? What’s that?”

He breathes a particularly wounded sigh, and you feel rather than hear him sober as he murmurs, “This is what you do to me, Ruusaan.”

Your jaw falls slack. Oh.

Your head is reeling with the implications of it. Him affecting you was one thing, because how could he not? With the way he fills a room and laughs at your stupid jokes and tells Vosca bedtime stories and holds you so carefully it feels like a lover caressing glass, about to shatter any moment—

Kinda how he’s holding you now, actually.

Your hand on his shoulder brings his head up from where it rests to look at you properly, and holds the blue steel in the indent where his cheek would be. You’ve been struggling for words, wondering how to respond to the affections of someone you admire so much. How to do him justice.

“You are so much to me, Mando.”

Timidly, your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and once more, his helmet tilts to follow the movement. You feel a kind of longing in that little shift, an age-old yearning borne of dedication to the Creed, from a man who feels everything so strongly.

The knowledge that you two will always be separated by a layer of beskar is always floating over your head. To say that you’ve made your peace with it would be a bold-faced lie, but—

Well, it’s who he is. To disrespect his Creed would be to disrespect him, and that you cannot allow.

But for the first time, you wonder how he feels about it. If that perennial ache in your chest whenever you glance at the helm resides in his, too.

Mando’s hand, previously resting on the slope of your waist, comes to hold your cheek. As if there’s a mirror between you, paralleling your stance to each other like clockwork. Two halves of a whole, reflecting each other.

Gradually, he tilts your face up to his. Leaning in, he touches the forehead of the helmet to yours, and your eyelids flutter shut, lashes barely grazing the metal. This time, the cold metal against your skin feels like a reprieve, freeing you from the burning sensation.

Like a kiss, you think absently. Is that what this is?

You’ve seen him do this before, with Vosca. Never truly knowing what it meant, what it signified to him, you’d left it alone.

You try to ask him, to make sense of the maelstrom of affection and yearning and want. “Mando—”

But his shoulders tense suddenly. “No.”

You blink. “N-no?”

He draws away, then. His hand is still cradling your face, but the helmet retreats, and you panic. What happened? What did you do? What boundary did you overstep to ruin something so torturously good—

He says your name. The name your mother gave you, not the nickname he and your girl call you in their language. “May I give you something?”

You’re confused, to say the least. The emotional range he’s currently choosing to display could give you whiplash. He’s not a very materialistic man, you know, and what could he possibly be giving you now, in this moment?

“I— I don’t think you could give me anything greater than this.”

He deflates. “Oh, ner kar’ta,” he croaks, stroking his thumb over your flushed cheek. Even through the modulator, the foreign syllables drip from his mouth like liquid gold, tongue rolling over the consonants in a way that makes you shiver. “I would be honoured to try.”

Wordlessly, you nod, still not fully comprehending what he means.

He must sense your bemusement. The grip on your side tightens nervously, and you dig your heels in to swallow a squeak. “My name is not ‘Mando’, cyare.”

And the world collapses beneath your feet.

This is new territory, dangerous territory. This is uncharted land, and you feel like you’re trespassing on the tricky, treacherous land of his very being.

You must look ridiculous. Like a fish, mouth bobbing open and shut. He chuckles, a small, subdued thing, and you immediately think it doesn’t suit him. The urge to fix it, to help him, crawls up your spine and settles in your gut.

You bite down the nerves scrambling up your throat to accept what he’s giving you. To reassure this man in your arms, who you have come to care for so deeply, and for yourself. To satiate the niggling curiosity in that corner of your mind left forcefully ignored for so long.

“If you’re sure.” You pause, and add, “Only if you’re sure. This isn’t… an obligation.” It’s somewhere between a question and a statement. You can both hear the moniker you’re avoiding, the cavernous gap opened up by what he’s offering you.

“I know. This is what I wish to give.” And there’s the Mandalorian you know, steadfast and confident, unwavering in the face of adversity. Willing to cross the gap into the unknown with you.

You remain silent, and step closer to press yourself to him. Feeling his pounding heartbeat against yours. Allowing the words to come from him, at his own pace, the warmth of your combined body heat hopefully calming his nerves.

Just as your eyes drift shut, content to wait as long as he needs, you hear it. Quiet, rasped through the helmet.

“Paz. Paz Vizsla.”

You inhale sharply, and look up. Oh, stars. It feels surreal, having a name to the face. Or lack thereof. To think he’d really trust you with such a core part of his being. You’re not sure if this breaks his Creed, or if there are loopholes, but as of now, you don’t care.

It… suits him. Short, robust. Yet somewhat lyrical on the tongue.

“Can I say it?” you ask meekly. The last thing you need right now to is to overstep, not when you’ve come so far.

“Please,” he breathes.

And the floodgates open. A smile breaks over your face, soft and eager, and you swell with affection. “Paz.”

A beat passes, in which everything you love hangs in the balance, and then he laughs. A true, full-bodied, bark of laughter that would ring in your ears long after it stops, but it doesn’t — it spills out of him like water spluttering through the fissure of a dam, bursting forth with all the weight of its years of confinement. He keeps laughing and laughing and then he’s holding you tightly with both arms, swinging you around. With anyone else, the action would’ve scared you. Would’ve been interpreted as a wild, uncontrolled invasion of space.

But with Mando— No. With Paz, you feel like you’re flying. You’re reminded of your days piloting through hyperspace, and the pride of swimming amongst the stars.

You shriek as your feet leave the ground, but it soon dissolves into giggles as he holds you above him.

(The ease with which he can manhandle you, can wrap both of those large, large hands around your comparatively diminutive hips, brings a blush to your face. But that’s a thought for another time.)

Eventually, he places you back on solid ground, and you beam up at him. He’s panting lightly, though you know lifting you was an easy task for someone of his strength. It’s okay. You feel breathless, too.

“Only with me,” he says. “And Vosca.”

You nod gravely. Maker, you’d never use it with anyone, just for the pleasure of knowing he trusts you. “I give you my word.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see the girl in question snoring lightly, still bundled up in Paz’s cloak. Somehow still asleep; you’re immensely grateful.

He returns the nod, and it’s funny how formal it seems compared to the little display you just put on. Paz stares for a moment longer, then huffs. “You sound like a Mandalorian.”

“Is that… good?”

He’s quiet, like he’s trying to find the words. “We may rubbing off on you— I may be rubbing off on you.”

You take a moment to look at him. Beskar gleaming in the moonlight, softly reflecting the fire behind you. He’s bared before you in a way that makes you feel safe. Maybe even loved.

“That might not be too bad.”

And so it goes. You and Paz stand under the stars, flames crackling at your feet, bending towards each other like flowers to the sun.

———

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla/you #paz vizsla/reader #my writing #the mandalorian #reader-insert #original child character #she's vosca and she's my baby ok damn #could be part of a series? i'll let y'all know #star wars #the heavy infantry #heavy infantry #series: hospitality #sw #EDIT: is now part of a series! check 'series: hospitality' for more :)

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nobody-knose--archive · 4 years ago

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hey all, resident person who does music analysis without knowing how to do music analysis here (looking at you, mind electric post from last september with a few dozen notes), have you ever wanted a vaguely concise list of all the differences between not one, not three, but two different versions of ruler of everything? i made it regardless.

to start, i’ve got to highlight various aspects of the ruler of everything mmmm 2008 version (the reference i’m using to compare the other versions with):

-the bpm is 83

-the key is b minor (bm)

-instruments featured include various strings (violin, cello, bass, i probably can’t name them all by ear), glockenspiel, chimes, acoustic guitar, calliope, drums of course (a drumkit), a specific keyboard synth, electric guitar, bass guitar, choral vocals separate from the lyrical ones (technically not an instrument but i’m including it here for a reason), tambourine, and one more percussion instrument that i genuinely cannot name precisely but theorize is some snare-drum-with-brushes shenanigans or maybe possibly a güiro (sounds like lighting a match, you can hear it in the breakdown part).

-the song is 3:42 long, not counting 13, which is, of course, 13 seconds long

-approximately 32 seconds of it is the outro with only glockenspiel

-notable situations in which there are differences between audio channels include the intro, where the glockenspiel is mostly, but not entirely, stored within the left channel; the reversed cymbals leading into the second verse, where two separate cymbal tones are played in each channel, with very little overlap; the “aaah”s following the first verse of “ruler of everything”, where the sounds switch between coming mostly, but not entirely, in the left & right channels; the reversed “jackrabbit” line, where the sound starts on the right channel and ends in the left, never entirely in only one channel; the laughter immediately following the “wonderful life” verse, which pans between the left & right channels; during the bridge, where there are some backwards vocals that hang out greatly in the left channel and, to a lesser (& different) extent, the right; the final “smile” at the end of the bridge, which echoes between channels as it fades away; and the final choral vocal during the outro, which emanates more from the left channel, though it is still present in the right.

-miscellaneous points in which there are differences between audio channels include, in about the entirety of the “do you like how i dance?” verses, guitar power chords are heard primarily in the left some bowed string flairs come primarily in the right or left (i would guess there’s a cello part in the right & a normal violin part in the left, but i can’t name them by ear), and there’s an electric guitar riff that dwindles off in the left shortly before the breakdown/bridge. during the bridge there is the aforementioned weird percussion bit coming in primarily in the left, two separate reversed synth riffs in the right & left, and another electric guitar riff primarily in the left. during the final chorus, the vocoded (a la taken for a ride 05 ver) and deeper vocals are more present in the right channel than the left & vice versa, respectively, though neither is fully absent from the other.

now that we’ve got this out of the way, time to look at the 2005 release:

-right off the bat, there’s a couple key differences. the key itself is raised up half a semitone, which less places it in a different key & more makes it sound horrendously out of tune with the 08 release. the tempo is also slightly faster, despite its longer length of 4:17 (about 1:10 of which is the glockenspiel-solo outro, about 22 seconds of which is silence covering up the existence of hidden in the sand, with the following 19 seconds being ocean sfx that further lead into hidden in the sand). i’d place the tempo around 85 or 86 bpm, not a significant change, but enough to offset it from the 08 ver.

-instruments featured include- with those that appear in both the 08 & 05 versions in bold, and those that only appear in this version in italics- various strings (i’d wager the same ones as in 08), glockenspiel, calliope, acoustic guitar, real bells/chimes, a specific keyboard synth, a drumkit, acoustic guitar, bass guitar, choral vocals separate from the lyrical ones, that same unnamed percussion instrument from earlier (but more subdued), and tambourine.

boy, that sure is a lot of the same instruments isn’t it? time to move into the meat of the differences: musical shenanigans!

-for starters, the 05 ver sports many different mixes between audio channels from the 08 ver. the intro glockenspiel is located squarely in the left audio channel, leaving only an echo in the right (far less space in between than the 08 ver); the reversed cymbals are mixed together in both channels rather than separated; the calliope is only found in the left channel; the specific keyboard synth is only found in the right channel (this & the previous point apply to the entire track); the small guitar riff during the “powerful job” line that follows the “i’ve been you” melody is mostly in the left; when the glockenspiel returns around the final verse it keeps primarily to the right channel for the rest of the song; the wonky percussion instrument is only in the right channel for the first go of the breakdown, but switches to the left for the transition between the two; the electric guitar riff is far less relegated to only the left, if at all; the reverse tambourine during the transition to the other half of the breakdown is mostly in the right; and the cello (i think) that comes in before the final chorus emanates more from the left channel.

-concerning the vocals in particular for the audio channels, the gentle “ah-ah”s in the first verse move from the left to right channels; the “aaah”s following the first lines of ruler of everything are less concentrated in individual audio channels; the reversed “jackrabbit” line pans between channels more than once; zubin & joe’s vocals across their verses before the breakdown do various things such as taking place entirely within the left & right channels respectively, only having a line’s echo in the one channel, having two different audio distortions/harmonies of a line be in different channels, or having a distorting line pan between channels; the laughter immediately following the “wonderful life” verse is mostly found in the right audio channel; the vocalize following the “you’re making me cry” line is mostly in the left; the falsetto harmony in the following verse is mainly in the right; one deeper, distorted harmony in the intro to the breakdown is only in the left; the final “smile” at the end of the breakdown keeps more closely to each ear as it echoes between them; the deeper and vocoded distorted vocals during the final chorus are fully relegated to the left & right channels, respectively; the “aaah”s following the final lines of ruler of everything switch between coming primarily from the right & left channels; and the echo on the final line is, in one part, offset & in primarily the left channel, and in another part, distorted & primarily in the right channel.

boy oh boy! that sure is a lot isn’t it? what if i told you the part i’m going to cover next includes literally everything else. not being a trained musician, i at the very least won’t start by pointing out every subtle difference in mixing & mastering, and instead catalogue all the other changes i can pick up on. granted, i’m going to ignore the obvious things like sound quality, alternative harmonies/melodies/etc, and different samples, and i’ll try not to restate anything that can be gleaned from comparing the data further up this post

-assorted differences of note include generally greater acoustic guitar use (notably in the first verse), amplified reverb on too many lines to count (the “aaah”s, first verse, and zubin’s lines are notable at least), drastically reduced echo on the reversed “jackrabbit” line, a complete lack of vocal distortion on all of zubin’s lines, far quieter hi-hat from the “practice your mannerisms” line on to the next verse, the chime in the buildup to the breakdown is louder & holds for longer, there’s no glockenspiel immediately following the breakdown, and a far stronger echo placed on the final line.

is this it? is it the end? good question. i could very easily move on & do this all over again with the complete demos version, if anybody cares about that. but from my own point of view, i find that ver to be so different from the finished product that it’d be like comparing a song and a cover of it. anyway, if the tally hallmanac page for ruler of everything gets updated based on all the work i did i want to be cited. the wikia gets a pass though

#i'm well aware this isn't a comprehensive list of... everything. i know about things i've left out i can hear them.#but by god i think this list is comprehensive enough isn't it? tell me when reading this you're missing out on like.#me mentioning there's some violin in the left channel at one point. tell me you're missing out on that so i can laugh at you /j #tally hall #genuinely i don't know a lot about music theory but i'm learning a good amount through experience i think #i've seriously learned so much since i made that mind electric post if i could i'd redo the whole thing but like. not only would it take #a whole lot of time that i don't care to spend. it's a stepping stone now. and not bad on its own rights i just know i can do much better #i'm not one to regret my old because i know my present will eventually become old itself so. no need to dwell on reaching perfection #tis i #should i have specified i think the calliope's probably a synth? i think it's the only synth in the song that sounds like another instrument #the bells/chimes could also be a synth however i find it more likely that they got irl chimes than an irl calliope so the jury's out on that #i won't lie the miscellaneous bolded words everywhere does feel a bit like h*mest*ck but hey i want this to be comprehensible #more so than my mind electric essay just without making it 5 pages long with indentations #he's named! he's a writer he's a singer he's named don't like don't read #...yknow i bet you can pinpoint the exact moment when writing this i absolutely gave up #joe-h #to the world and back again

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duckloading0 · 3 years ago

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Mhc Industrial Tones Synth Vsti V1.5 Amplify

Mhc Industrial Tones Synth Vsti V1.5 Amplify 4

Mhc Industrial Tones Synth Vsti V1.5 Amplify 7

Mhc Industrial Tones Synth Vsti V1.5 Amplify Download

Mhc Industrial Tones Synth Vsti V1.5 Amplify 1

It’s 2018 and there are literally hundreds & thousands *maybe*, of VST synth plugins in the market. Some are free, some are expensive and some cost very little.

Diva is a classic analogue synth takes the best bits of hardware history and puts them into one incredible-sounding plugin. It’s also the type of synth to reach for to make big rave music anthems. With Diva, you could pair a Minimoog oscillator with an MS-20 filter, and then pipe the signal through a Jupiter-6 style envelope, or swap out any. The easiest way to backup and share your files with everyone. TRAKTOR 3.3 has arrived, delivering incredible new performance and compatibility for DJs. The new version can now be used with TRAKTOR SCRATCH, giving you hands-on control of all four virtual decks via turntables and CD players.

Not every VST synth is made equal. On some synths, you may find big and usable sounds, right on the get-go. And on some other synths, you could get sound that sounds too amateurish until you spend time tweaking and inserting effects into it.

We could have attempted to write a list of the top 100 best free & paid VST plugins in the world today, but I really wanted to focus on the real best 5 must-have software VST synths, that should consider installing in your setup – as a music producer, whether you produce electronic music or hip-hop music.

Let’s get started.

The 5 Best Software VST Synths To Install Today

Check out this video, where Tim Cant (a really hilarious producer) shows us insights into the five of probably the most popular software synths in the world today. He’ll explain the five synths below, shows a quick walkthrough of each and explains what made them popular.

1. SynthMaster 2.9 (KV331 Audio)

SynthMaster, an award-winning synth may have been around for a long time, but every update has kept it fresh for the competition with the world’s best soft synths.

Now at version 2.9, SynthMaster has practically every sound generation feature you could want in a synthesizer: wavetable oscillators, loads of voicing parameters, dual filters, multistage envelope generators and a modular signal flow – all times two with two synthesis layers. On top of that, there’s also four LFOs, an effects section including a Vocoder, and loads more.

SynthMaster’s Killer Feature? It’s oscillator waveforms include samples of classic hardware to use as sources.

Its seen to be used by DJs like Armin van Buuren, Martin Garrix and Zedd.

Buy SynthMaster at Plugin Boutique – $99

2. Spire (Reveal Sound)

The Spire does not come cheap. (Almost the price of a DAW!).

But it brings an impressive range of oscillators and synthesis types, and an even more impressive range of third-party preset developers. Spire is an extensive VST plugin as it allows for complicated modulation options while sounding extremely big.

Choose one of 49 waves in a Spire oscillator, and you can morph it using the CtrlA and CtrlB knobs. What these two do to the waveform is determined by the synthesis type, which is selected at the top of the oscillator. And that’s without mentioning the dual filters, the four LFOs, the four envelopes and effects.

Spire’s Killer Feature? It’s five-page modulation matrix, giving access to over 200 mod destinations. Reveal Sound, the maker of Spire also claims that the plugin is used by artists such as Dash Berlin and Hardwell.

A quick thing you should know about Spire is that it uses quite a bit of CPU processing and in our opinion, we think that could be improved – perhaps in its upcoming version updates.

Buy Spire at Plugin Boutique – $199

3. Avenger by Vengeance Sound

You probably have heard its sounds in lots of music pieces on the radio. This monstrous, top-of-the-line synth is the first instrument released by plugin and sound household legends, Vengeance Sound.

It has eight oscillators, which host classic analogue shapes, samples, a choice of digital wave cycles and wavetables. ThThere areM and AM options, and each oscillator can be run through a unique combination of filters, amps, arpeggiators and effects, meaning that you could make an entire track in one instance of Avenger.

Elsewhere, there’s a spectral filter, macro controls, and far too many features to even namecheck.

Avenger’s Killer Feature? It’s got an entire drum machine – and drum sequencer – built in! Put simply, Avenger is excessive and would fit the tweak-hungry music producer.

Buy Avenger at Plugin Boutique – $220

Mhc Industrial Tones Synth Vsti V1.5 Amplify 4

4. Diva (u-he)

Synths made by u-he (like Zebra synth), never fail to disappoint. Diva is a classic analogue synth takes the best bits of hardware history and puts them into one incredible-sounding plugin. It’s also the type of synth to reach for to make big rave music anthems.

With Diva, you could pair a Minimoog oscillator with an MS-20 filter, and then pipe the signal through a Jupiter-6 style envelope, or swap out any of the elements for any other. Diva’s also got two LFOs, two effects slots, a Modifications tab to make advanced tweaks, and a kickass oscilloscope visualiser.

Diva’s Killer Feature? Divine Mode – this menu control cranks Diva up to maximum quality, making it its most analogue, but with a hefty CPU hit. You could use it if you have enough CPU power under the hood of your computer.

U-he’s Diva is no stranger to the world of music production and has been around since late 2011.

Buy Diva at Plugin Boutique – $179

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5. Serum (Xfer Records)

Mhc Industrial Tones Synth Vsti V1.5 Amplify Download

My personal favourite to the list of synths here. Serum is a modern looking wavetable VST synth, that has become a staple to many electronic music producers. Out of the box, the presets itself sounds super big and usable. You’ll enjoy using them in your tracks and will only look at tweaking them, to create your own unique sounds.

Serum’s two wavetable oscillators are actually superweapons, with 3D wave morphing, additive synthesis, wavetable interpolation, wave cycle morphing, and loads more complicated-sounding powers. But the trick is, in reality, every one of Serum’s features is completely straightforward to use, and there are countless third-party preset packs available that showcase its incredible potential.

Serum’s three Killer Features? It’s got up to eight multipoint LFOs, PNG Wavetable import, and everyone with Serum gets a copy of Serum FX, an effects-only version with only Serum’s FX tab.

Native Instrument’s Massive is something of an alternative to Serum, but having experienced them first-hand, I’ll be first to tell you that you’ll find it easier to program on Serum compared to Massive.

Buy Serum at Plugin Boutique – $189

What are your takes on the 5 VST soft synths that I featured here in this post? Let me know and contribute some of your thoughts to the other readers!

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