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pencil-peach · 7 months

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G Witch Onscreen Text: Episode 1

This is the second part of a project where I try my best to document and discuss all of the (relatively important) text that appears on monitors and screens in G Witch. Cause I can.

<< Click here to see the one I did on the Prologue

ooOOooohhh beneath the cut lie the HORRORS....

Just to give you an idea of how needlessly hard they went on the monitor text, when Suletta is rescuing Miorine, she mentions that she's almost out of oxygen, and then, when she brings her into Aerial's cockpit, on her helmet, you can faintly see text displaying the amount of oxygen.

And THEN, when she starts talking to Miorine, the text on her helmet changes AGAIN to display that the comm link has been established

WHY DID THEY DO THAT????

Well clearly they did it cause they knew my stupid ass would eventually document it. Anyway, let us begin.

TEXT: I am a HARO. You can ask me anything! (The only text on the icons I can make out are MAP and SCHOOL, unfortunately.)

This is the HARO navigation bot Suletta meets when first coming to Asticassia, and we know that it's Haro Navigation System Ver. 3.0! If that's something that interests you....

TEXT: MOBILE CRAFT FUTURE TECHNOLOGY SIZE 6.6m 18.8t

Not much of note, it's just a hologram of a mobile craft. Exciting if you like mobile crafts. (I like mobile crafts)

When the Docks containing the Demi Trainers are locked, the display says LOCKED. When they're in use, the display says IN OPERATION.

TEXT: (Left) PILOTING DEPARTMENT KP001 GUEL JETURK MO-0032G GUEL'S DILANZA 26 WINS 0 LOSS 0 TIE

(Right) PILOTING DEPARTMENT KP029 PARKER EASTCOTT TKG-328 KAPELL-KUU 2 WINS 1 LOSS 1 TIE

The Battle Display for the first duel we see in the show, and from this we can see that Guel currently stands undefeated with 26 wins! Double digits! No wonder he's the ace pilot at Asticassia...too bad he's a dick.

This is the graph that's shown during the Benerit Group board meeting, detailing the earnings of the groups members for the current period.

Interestingly, the 3 highest earners are: Peil Technologies - 8000 Grassley Defense Systems - 8100 Jeturk Heavy Machinery - 8300

So, funnily enough, at the beginning of the story, Jeturk Heavy Machinery is actually the most successful company within the group. It explains why Vim Jeturk felt so comfortable in his plot to assassinate Delling, and goes to show how quickly he fell from the top position after Guel lost to Suletta all those times.

Fun Fact by the way, Prospera's first appearance in the show proper is during this meeting.

She seems kind of annoyed about something.

TEXT: DUEL COMMENCING FIRST TO BREAK MS BLADE ANTENNA IS THE WINNER

We don't see it very often, but during a duel, a display stating the win condition of the duel is broadcast for the benefit of the spectators.

When Miorine boards Aerial for the duel, we get a look at its system control menu.

Top to bottom, left to right, the options are: COCKPIT VOICE RECORDER IDENTIFICATION FRIEND FLIGHT DATA RECORDER NAVIGATION DISPLAY WEAPON SELECTION CONDITION MONITOR COMMUNICATION SYSTEM GROUND POWER UNIT INSTRUMENT FLIGHT RULE SIMULATOR INSTRUMENT APPROACH CHART INSTRUMENT LANDING SYSTEM APPROACH POINT RAM AIR TURBINE

We also get a brief look at the Weapon Selection Sub-Menu

TEXT: SELECT YOUR WEAPON BEAM SABER BEAM RIFLE BEAM VULCAN

I think a lot of the main settings are interesting (what the hell is "Identification Friend?") but what's really interesting to me is that Aerial's Gundbits don't seem to be selectable via the Weapon Menu.

We also get a brief glimpse at the Red Dilanza's control menu.

No idea what I'm looking at, to be totally honest, but yknow. It's nice!

TEXT: EMERGENCY BUTTON

When Suletta intrudes into the duel and gets back in Aerial, we see that it has an emergency button (seemingly somewhere on its foot) that opens the cockpit.

TEXT: COMMUNICATION MODE -OUTERCOM-

When Suletta headbutts Miorine and they start arguing about Aerial, Aerial's comms system gets set to OUTERCOM mode, which explains why everyone outside of Aerial can hear the argument.

This could have been done by accident when Suletta headbutted Miorine, but I like to believe that Eri herself did this on purpose.

Just so it isn't left unsaid, Aerial's Permet ID is XVX-016, and when a combatant in a duel is the Holder, the Holder Symbol is displayed on their Duel Card.

When Suletta is telling Miorine about her mother's motto, the GUND-Bits appear on the monitor and come online as Aerial 'speaks.' This, combined with the fact that the GUND-Bits aren't accessible via the Weapon Select menu, implied all the way back in episode one that it's Eri who controls them. Although interestingly, it seems that, internally, the GUND-Bits are referred to as GUNBITS.

I obviously won't transcribe the two pages of this book, but the book El4n is reading here is actually The World as Will and Representation by German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer. We actually see its title in a later episode, and the main ideas present in this work are extremely important when it comes to understanding El4n's character. But that's a story for another post.

TEXT:

YOU ARE THE WINNER OF THE DUEL.

thanks!

TEXT: HOLDER REGISTRATION [SETTINGS]

I always thought it was a little funny how the transferring of the holder title was just like, an option on their phones and not an automatic process.

ADDENDUM:

Thank you to @the-eeveekins for pointing out that Aerial is currently running SYS Ver E.S (Ericht Samaya) as opposed to 2.0 in the Lfrith!

I didn't even notice!! That's crazy!!! Thank you so much!

Also I realize I should probably point out that we see that Nika's ID is LM236 in this photo. She never duels so there's never a moment where she says it out loud.

And that's all for episode 1! Not too much super interesting, but there's still a lot to see and think about if you're paying attention! (Like, why does Aerial have a Cockpit Voice Recorder at all, actually? We know that Suletta often talks with Aerial in the cockpit about personal stuff so...you don't think that....Prospera....?)

Click here to go to Episode 2! >>

Click here to go to the Masterpost!

#g witch #gundam the witch from mercury

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madhareadventures · 9 days

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I do actually headcanon holograms don't really count as people since it's stated in the novelization that holograms are essentially 'software ghosts.'

They are intangible and ethereal like a ghost.

They're manifestations comprised of data and programming.

Narratively speaking you can tell that's most likely what they were aiming for when they wrote about holograms.

When Saunders was self-aware enough to realize that his wife, Carole, would be moving on with her life without him, or how Saunders wasn't even granted "planet leave" since the dead don't need rest and relaxation, as Space Corp. was his literal ball and chain, it's very telling.

If it wasn't for Space Corps. utilizing this technology and from Saunders perspective he'd most likely wouldn't exist at all.

Which begs the question: why does Red Dwarf need a token dead crew member? in a real-life scenario, where resources are often limited and efficiency is paramount, duplicating individuals with essential skills and qualifications would likely be prioritized.

Not chicken soup repair men.

This approach would ensure that critical areas of ship operations are adequately covered and that the crew is well-equipped to handle the demands of space travel. I'd focus on duplicating crew members with essential skills, the spacecraft can maintain and keep the ship functioning even in the face of unexpected challenges or emergencies.

But that's just me thinking logically.

Which leads me to another headcanon based on on my speculations about Arnold Rimmer and Dave Lister...

Remember the episode 'Balance of Power' the one where Lister wanted to turn on Kochanski's hologram for while?

Kristine was a former navigation officer before death so it would make sense to duplicate her personality?

Remember, Rimmer's family has a military background, and despite failing his astro-navigation exams to become an officer, I speculated that his family connections might have had something to do with his personality being deemed important enough to be worthy of duplication.

In "Better Than Life," when Lister has a heart attack, Holly doesn't even bother bringing up any compromises to resurrect Lister as a hologram. Instead, he suggests how to revive him on a backward planet, no questions asked. If they brought back a deceased Kochanski, why didn't they consider resurrecting the real Arnold Rimmer while they were at it?

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #dave lister

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year

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Taking Care of Business (Chapter Thirty-Seven)

Summary: The Mandalorians, led by Bo-Katan and (Y/N), come to the aid of Nevarro and take on Pirate King Gorian Shard’s forces.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I honestly love writing sky battles, and I’m always game for writing more Bad-Ass Alor’ad scenes lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Seven The Pirates (Previous Chapter)

Tugging her fingerless gloves on and double-checking that R5-D4 was secured into the droid port, (Y/N) glanced over at Grogu seated beside her on the edge of the starfighter’s cockpit and arched an unsurprised brow. “I take it your dad wasn’t able to convince you to stay behind, huh?”

Grogu cooed and continued eating his breakfast of bantha jerky while the Mandalorian fighters gathered in front of the Gauntlet; a moment later, Din and Bo-Katan emerged from the cave and Din crossed behind the group to lean against the starfighter while Bo-Katan stood beside the extended gangplank. “This is a Kom’rk Class fighter transport. I’ll use this to drop you in and you will operate as a tight military unit; Captain (Y/L/N) and myself will reinforce from above. If everyone acts as they should, we can use the element of surprise and defeat an enemy that outnumbers us.” The Nite Owl surveyed the group assembled before her. “If everyone’s ready, then we’ll leave for Nevarro at once.”

The Mandalorians that were joining their mission said their goodbyes to the covert members staying behind and filtered onto the Gauntlet, and Clan Mudhorn climbed into the starfighter and charted their course to Nevarro. “Are you guys sure you don’t wanna sit this one out?” (Y/N) asked as she hovered her hand over the edge of the windshield. “It’s gonna get a little dicey up there.”

“And we’ll be right with you when it does, alor’ad.” Din reached up and slid the windshield closed before guiding her hands onto the controls and placing his hands on her waist. “This is the Way.”

(Y/N) smiled to herself as she switched the engines on and piloted the starfighter up into the clear blue sky, spotting the Gauntlet following after them and switching the communication radio on. “Okay, Bo, I’ve sent over the coordinates.”

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll see you in hyperspace.” The ships flew through the planet’s upper atmosphere and entered hyperspace the moment they reached the darkness of space; while the bright blue lights swirled around both ships, a hologram of the battle plan was beamed into their cockpit from the Gauntlet. “Pirate King Gorian Shard is captaining a Cumulus Class Corsair carrying a complement of snubfighters. It has aerial bombardment capabilities. The N-1 will distract the Corsair and her snubfighters as we drop in to liberate the planet below.” Bo-Katan’s voice was clear and assured as she briefed their fighters, and (Y/N) could easily imagine her leading Mandalore in its prime. “Nevarro is an independent planet and no longer under remnant Imperial or New Republic protection, but it’s that very independence that makes it appealing for you to settle. You lived there once, hiding in the sewers. But now, you can be heroes.”

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) squared her shoulders and guided the starfighter out of hyperspace, piloting down through the upper atmosphere of Nevarro as the corner of her curved upwards into a self-assured smirk. “This is where the fun begins.” She pushed down on the controls and the starfighter shot forward, speeding through the sky as she steered them towards Gorian Shard’s Corsair hovering above the bombed-out city; she fired on the starship and spun the starfighter around for another pass. “If that didn’t scug ‘em off, then this definitely will.” She navigated the starfighter under the Corsair and fired on the starship’s gunwales; several of the gunwales were destroyed in a fiery explosion and as she moved in for another pass, three snubfighters launched into the air after her. “That seemed to do it!”

“Bold of you to return, Captain (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at Vane’s threatening tone. “What can I say? I’m a bold woman.” She jammed the communication radio’s signal to the pirates’ snubfighters and swerved out of the way of their blaster fire. “You two might wanna hold on tight from here on out.”

Grogu giggled in delight when she flipped the starfighter over to dodge another round of blaster fire while Din’s gloved hands tightened on her waist. “Maybe we can convince Peli to install a seismic charge launcher on the N-1 the next time we’re in Mos Eisley. That is, if an ex-smuggler can handle a bounty hunter’s weapon.”

“Oh, you’ll find that ex-smugglers can handle anything that’s thrown their way,” (Y/N) replied with a growing smirk at their usual teasing. “Unlike hot-head bounty hunters with something to prove.”

Before Din could respond, their friend��s familiar voice came through the starfighter’s communication radio. “Thanks for your help, you two.”

“We decided to take you up on your offer for a tract of land.”

“Be careful, my friends. They’ve got you outnumbered ten to one.”

(Y/N) increased their speed and at the very last second, she swerved to the side and triumphantly smiled when the snubfighter chasing them and the snubfighter charging towards them flew into one another and exploded in a fiery crash. “I like those odds.”

Greef chuckled at that. “I bet you do.”

Dodging the blaster fire coming from the Corsair, (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the starship flying away from the city. “The Corsair’s on me, Bo. Coast is clear.”

While the starfighter distracted the Corsair and its multitude of snubfighters, the Gauntlet hovered over the city and dropped their squadron of Mandalorian fighters before flying away. “Their launch was successful,” Din announced as he looked out the windshield. “Time to really scug these pirates off.”

“My pleasure.” (Y/N) wrenched the controls to the side and steered the starfighter into a tight corkscrew spin, deftly avoiding the snubfighter’s blaster fire and maneuvering out of the spin to fly over the Corsair and shoot down an oncoming snubfighter. Her grip tightened on the starfighter’s controls as she led their enemies over Nevarro’s lava flats and away from the city, smiling to herself when each and every snubfighter joined the pursuit. “That seemed to do the trick.”

“Captain, what’s your position?”

“We’re over the flats with snubfighters in pursuit,” (Y/N) replied and flew the starfighter through the rocky outcroppings with ease. “You’re clear to start your run.”

“You should ease up on the accelerator, make ‘em think that they actually have a shot at taking us down.”

She gave Din a playful look over her shoulder as she sharply turned a corner. “Are you back-seat flying, Din Djarin? Because I have a zero-tolerance policy that forbids back-seat flying from Mandalorians who have a history of crash-landing onto several planets.”

“Mir’sheb.” Her husband’s chuckles were interrupted by Grogu’s urgent squeal and he swore under his breath. “They’re peeling off. They know we’re the diversion.”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) wrenched the controls upwards and shot out of the canyon as she called into the communication radio, “Bo, you’re about to have five snubfighters on your tail. I’m on my way to back you up.”

“Copy that, Captain.”

The starfighter raced through the sky towards the Corsair and when she saw the five snubfighters pursuing the Gauntlet, she steered them into a nosedive and checked to make sure that the child was being held by Din before flying straight up; she shot down a snubfighter and sped straight through their formation, scattering the remaining four ships and shooting down a second and a third on her descent. As the ship’s remains crashed into the Corsair and destroyed one of its engines, Grogu giggled in delight and Din murmured more words of affirmation while the Gauntlet shot down another snubfighter, leaving Vane’s ship as the last one standing; (Y/N) broke out into a triumphant smile when the pirate’s ship suddenly turned and flew away from the fight, but her triumph was short-lived when she saw the Corsair being steered above the city and its gunwales began firing on the buildings below.

“He’s targeting the townspeople!”

“We’ve gotta take him down,” (Y/N) replied, looping the starfighter around and racing towards the attacking Corsair. “Focus fire on their last engine!”

With (Y/N) approaching from the bow of the Corsair and Bo-Katan approaching from the stern, they both fired on the starship’s last operational engine and sped away as it burst into flames and slowly crashed onto the planet’s surface in an impressive explosion. Exhausted, (Y/N) flopped back against Din’s chest and switched the controls over to R5 before closing her eyes, smiling tiredly when she heard Grogu’s enthusiastic babbling and felt the brief but loving caress of her husband’s lips on her temple. I don’t remember flying being this tiring during the Rebellion, she thought to herself as the starfighter began its descent, but it’s nice to know I’ve still got it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Greef Karga exclaimed over the cheers of the townspeople. The citizens of Nevarro and their Mandalorian saviors were gathered by the city’s ruined archway near the docked Gauntlet, while the members of Clan Mudhorn stayed towards the back with the starfighter; (Y/N) stood on the starfighter’s side panel while Din stood on the ground, one of his gloved hands resting on her calf while the other shaded Grogu’s face from the bright sun, and all three of them listened as the High Magistrate addressed the celebrating crowd. “To all of you, and especially to our fine Mandalorian liberators, to whom this planet is forever indebted.” Greef turned to look at the gathered Mandalorians and offered them a welcoming smile. “Mandalorians, I know that we have been on opposite sides in the past, but that is behind us. From this day forward, I, Magistrate Greef Karga-”

“High Magistrate, sir.”

The crowd laughed at the protocol droid’s correction and Greef chuckled good-naturedly. “High Magistrate Greef Karga, hereby cede all land from the western lava flats to Bulloch Canyon to the fine people of Mandalore. You may no longer have a home planet, but you do now have a home. Welcome!”

The citizens of Nevarro burst into applause and the assembled Mandalorians crossed their right arms over their chests, bowing their helmeted heads in a show of respect. “Well, I guess we should start unloading the Gauntlet’s cargo hold…”

When (Y/N) attempted to hop down from the starfighter’s side panel, her stiff legs gave way but thanks to Din’s quick reflexes, she landed neatly in her husband’s strong arms. “The rest of us will handle the cargo hold, alor’ad; you’ve more than earned your rest.”

“It’s hard to argue with that,” She chuckled, giving the beskar covering his cheek a kiss as he cautiously set her on her feet and gathering Grogu into her arms before allowing him to lead her over to the Gauntlet’s extended ramp.

Seated on a cargo box, (Y/N) scrolled through Greef Karga’s official holo-pad while the Mandalorians and the citizens of Nevarro began working to build a camp on the outskirts of the bombed-out city; she’d hoped that the High Magistrate’s resources would help her find any information on Kelleran Beq and his possible ties to Naboo, but her search proved to be fruitless and she was still reluctant to ask the child any more questions about his past, fearing that they’d only serve to re-traumatize him.

“No luck?”

(Y/N) sighed and set the holo-pad aside before looking over at Din, who was busy sorting through boxes of blaster cartridges beside her. “I don’t know why I’m expecting anything different. The Jedi were forced into hiding nearly thirty years ago, so it’s not as though they’d make themselves easy to find.”

Before Din could reply, Grogu’s curious coos drew their attention towards two Mandalorians making their way through the makeshift camp: the Armorer and – to (Y/N)’s stunned surprise – a helmetless Bo-Katan Kryze. The Nite Owl looked uncomfortable under the heavy stares of her fellow Mandalorians, clutching her helmet to her side and doing her best to ignore the murmurs that followed them as they made their way towards (Y/N) and Din. Both Mandalorians stopped before them, and the Armorer loudly announced, “Bo-Katan Kryze is going off to bring other Mandalorians in exile to us, so that we may join together once again.”

“But she shows her face,” Paz pointed out, and the surrounding Mandalorians nodded in agreement and continued to talk amongst themselves.

The Armorer was unaffected by her covert’s reactions. “Bo-Katan walks both worlds, and she can bring all tribes together.” Shifting his weight, Paz looked over at Din and relaxed his shoulders when he gave him a single nod. “It is time to retake Mandalore.”

Din looked down at (Y/N) and once she gave him a subtle nod, he turned his attention back to the Mandalorians standing before them. “(Y/N) and I will accompany you on your quest to locate the exiled Mandalorians.” Despite the shocking turn of events and the mixture of emotions he was undoubtedly experiencing, Din’s modulated voice was clear and steady as he continued. “This is the Way.”

Bo-Katan offered them a thankful smile. “This is the Way.”

Grogu let out a series of babbles and coos, and (Y/N) found herself nodding in agreement. “You’re right, little guy: it’s certainly been one helluva day…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mando’a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain Mir’sheb-Smart-ass

A/N: I’m hoping that the next chapter will be ready by next week but we’re having some work done in the house, so I’m not sure how much writing I’ll be able to do but I’ll keep you posted! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95 @welcometothepedroverse @sarahjkl82-blog @elinedjarin @itsnottilly @crowleysqueenofhell @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001 @groovy-lady @impala1967666 @fluffy-canada-pancakes @icee228 @siimiasoi

#taking care of business #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #bo katan kryze #the armorer #paz vizsla #greef karga #grogu #the child #baby yoda #r5d4 #vane #gorian shard #captain teva #star wars #din djarin x f!reader

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defconprime · 8 months

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Enoch, Emergency Navigational Hologram

#star trek tng #star trek cards #star trek picard #cristobal rios

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regionalpancake · 6 months

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Life Raft - Regionalpancake - Star Trek: Picard [Archive of Our Own]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: La Sirena Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Emil | La Sirena's Emergency Medical Hologram & Four (xB OC) Characters: Emil | La Sirena's Emergency Medical Hologram, Four (xB OC), Hugh | Third of Five, Mister Hospitality | La Sirena's Emergency Hospitality Hologram, Ian | La Sirena's Emergency Engineering Hologram, Emmet | La Sirena's Emergency Tactical Hologram, Enoch | La Sirena's Emergency Navigational Hologram Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugh | Third of Five Lives, holoween, Holoween2023, holo technology as medical accessibility, slaps the roof of the fic - this bad boy can fit so much medical trauma Summary: When no one else can get a young xB the medical care she needs to save her life, Emil is the only doctor for the job.

My contribution for Holoween! Thanks so much to @holo-squad for organising and giving me the excuse to write the holos again <3

#holoween #holoween2023 #regionalpancakewrites #regionalpancakeedits #emil (emh)#hugh borg #ian (eeh)#star trek picard #star trek la sirena #emmet (eth)#enoch (enh)#mister hospitality (ehh)

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septima-severa · 1 month

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Thrawn's story epilogue

... sadly, without our favourite Blueberry man himself. Sacrifices had been done at the end of the chapter 6, though.

You can read the whole story now on AO3.

EPILOGUE

The Kingfisher was hailed by the heavy cruiser that suddenly appeared some distance away. Systems were alerting you of the weapons locked on your position.

“To the unknown vessel: Identify yourself,” sounded through the ship’s communications. The voice was altered, and the connection interfered with, creating a heavy background noise of static, yet commanding, nonetheless. KX was already working on adjustments to enhance the incoming signal.

The language was Sy Bisti at first few repeats. While KX adjusted the console, the voice turned distinctly female, and in the end it switched to Cheunh.

“Ma?” your daughter’s eyes went wide as saucers when she recognised the words at last. She even stopped squirming, strapped to the seat behind you.

“I know, honey,” you turned to her, smiling. We found them.

“This is VCK-90, requesting assistance,” you answered at last.

“Holo transmission incoming,” the droid announced almost immediately.

“Open the channel, KX,” you nodded.

The 3D image flickered at first over the control panel before it stabilised, its blue glow flooding the cockpit. It showed a face of a male with distinct Chiss features not unlike you knew by heart. “This is Commodore Ufsa’mak’ro, commanding officer of the Springhawk, of the Chiss Expansionary Defence Fleet. Report your status.”

“Doctor Lani Kordes, captain of Kingfisher speaking,” you searched your Cheunh vocabulary for what to say next. “We have sustained a substantial damage in the latest skirmish in Wild Space, resulting in a subsequent damage of our navigation platform. It has rendered us unable to perform hyperspace travel over longer distances successfully. We need to reach specific coordinates, but are unable to do so, blinded as we are. I understand the coordinates refer to a meeting point within the Chiss space.”

“Send the coordinates over.”

You obliged. “I’m looking for Admiral Ar’alani?” you supplied a half question when there was silence from the other side. “Eli Vanto?” you tried again when your inquiry didn’t yield any response.

“Stand by,” was the only thing you got. And so, you did, waiting for perhaps a few minutes, maybe half an hour before the comms sparked to life again.

“Who gave you these?” a different voice, this time distinctly female, came out of the speaker.

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo did.”

After that, there was a moment of silence before Commodore Ufsa’mak’ro spoke again: “Prepare for the arrival of a boarding party. If you surrender willingly, no harm will come your way. If you resist, prepare to die.”

“No-no-no-no!” you switched to Basic in the shock of it before you remembered to continue speaking Cheunh. “I’ve got children on board!” you shouted. However, the connection was already terminated. “You kriffing nerf-herders!” you swore at nothing, the hologram long disappeared.

“Mom?” Rishmu was startled by your outburst.

Soon enough, a second ship emerged from the hyperspace and assumed its position along the first heavy cruiser. They seemed almost identical, and you presumed that the Commodore called for reinforcements – the absurdity of it made you howl in frustration. Now you could observe a non-descript shuttle advancing in your direction, closing the distance rapidly.

“Mommy…” she whimpered.

“It’s nothing, honey,” you tried to soothe the child, prying off the belt that was digging into your ever-growing belly uncomfortably now. Once you wrestled your harness off, you quickly rose and hobbled to the side of the back seat where you kneeled on the cold floor, now face to face with her. “These people are coming over to help us, my little lamprey,” you cooed, petting her soft hair. “They are your papa’s people.”

Her eyes brightened at the mention of her father again. You had been travelling for months now, and she had kept inquiring about him from time to time, albeit less frequently now.

“I know, my little butterfly, I miss him, too.”

It didn’t take long before you heard loud bangs against the outer hatch. You gave KX a nod, and the hatch was opened from the central console. You shielded Rishmu with your own body, cradling her in your arms protectively, before the party arrived in the cockpit. You rose to your feet, huffing under the added weight of the child, your back turned towards the newcomers.

“Captain Kordes?” their leader asked.

Finally, you faced them, shifting Rishmu over onto your side. She was hiding her face till then, but when she gazed at them with her pale red eyes and unmistakably blue skin, you could see their demeanour shifting. They lowered their weapons slightly, but their eyes were flitting from you to the droid and back. “I surrender willingly,” you hissed, “just don’t harm my daughter, please.”

The commander gave a quick order. One of his soldiers closest to you nodded, replaced his weapon, and immediately proceeded to extract Rishmu from your arms. She screamed and screeched like a wildling, calling for you over his shoulder –

“WHERE ARE YOU TAKING HER?” you shrieked, panicking. However, your condition didn’t allow you to interfere fast enough.

---

You landed yourself in the brig. In your tired mind, it took an eternity before you were escorted here, Kingfisher either in tow or destroyed after you left it. When the heavy doors closed behind your back, you immediately started pacing in front of it, shouting “Where is my daughter?!” at nobody in particular. However, the corridor looked empty after your jailors left, so no one heard you really. Probably.

Walking in circles tired you quickly, the adrenaline levels in your bloodstream subsiding. Your head started spinning; you had to sit down, and only then you had a proper look at your newest accommodations. It seemed that the standards for prisoners had been very similar on both sides – it made you snort, like an inside joke.

“Oof!” you doubled over, gripping the nearest thing. Your unborn child just gave you an exceptionally hard kick, so powerful you didn’t notice the door open –

A very bad joke, indeed.

The person entering had your jaw drop in surprise.

You hadn’t seen that individual in thirteen years, yet the facial features remained almost identical – genetics never lie –, albeit the uniform was different: imperial olive green exchanged for the almost black fabric now. Plus the very human feature of his lightly tanned skin. You broke the silence first. “Commander Vanto.”

Jaw set tightly, he was measuring you carefully with his gaze. He was undoubtedly searching his memory. You could swear you detected the moment when realisation sank in, as his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Yes, I know her,” he confirmed to the Chiss who remained in the corridor, partially obscured by the doorframe and thus out of your direct eyesight. He then turned his attention fully to you. “It’s Eli’van’to to you, doctor,” he said calmly, his Basic bearing accent after years spent here.

Rising to your feet slowly, you switched to Cheunh. “In that case, allow me to remedy my mistake, Lieutenant Commander Eli’van’to.” You would bow in respect, but your back was stiff, posture ever shifting, to compensate for the added weight.

“He taught you well,” he complimented you.

“Thank you,” you smiled sadly, caressing another sore spot from a newly delivered kick.

“Is the baby his?” he gestured towards your belly.

“Yes.”

“And the other one? The one travelling with you?”

Your patience wore thin with that question implying so many scenarios. You replied in Basic, hissing in irritation, “If you insinuate that I’ve been randomly abducting children on my way here, you are gravely mistaken, Eli’van’to. Rishmu is my daughter – the one I gave birth to aboard the Chimaera, to be precise. A simple genetic test will surely prove that I’m saying the truth,” you paused to take a deep breath before adding “And she wasn’t born out of wedlock.”

“Admiral Ar’alani will not be pleased with that information,” he muttered after a moment. His expression shifted, but you couldn’t say for sure what it meant.

“You may remember that I’m not a people-pleaser, Lieutenant Commander,” you concluded.

“Indeed not.”

#star wars #fanfiction #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn #peridea

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thought-42 · 1 month

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It gets harder every year

Star Wars, 2050 words, Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger Luke has acquired a Mandalorian and is maybe panicking a little. It's fine. He nows a guy. Set in a universe where Ezra wound up in the Chiss Ascendancy post-Rebels and eventually he and Luke became like. Space internet friends. Don't worry about it. *

Luke Skywalker, pinnacle of Jedi calm and patience, only does four laps around the school while he waits for his comm signal to work its way through seven layers of encryption and a long string of relay nodes stretching across lightyears, vast and unknowable, between his current location and his target.

“No,” Laezra says as soon as he picks up. His little hologram is blurry and half a second out of sync with the audio, but Luke can still see the way his hair is flattened on one side and standing straight up on the other, and he's holding the comm in such a way that his (probably bare) chest is out of frame. There is, perhaps, a timezone issue Luke should have taken into account.

“You're so rude,” Luke says. “This could be an emergency.”

“Is it?”

“The point is that it could be. And you, my only peer, my only fellow Force user, you who stand in brotherhood with me against a harsh and uncaring universe–”

“Your sister exists and is literally a princess”

“What value does the royal title hold within the forced diaspora, really? Also the last time I asked if she wanted to meditate she threatened to tell someone I don't pay taxes.”

“That's an actual criminal crime, for the record. What kind of example are you setting for your students?”

“I have two students,” Luke says. “One of whom I'm related to. Besides, didn't you meet your master in the middle of a criminal crime?”

“It's not a crime if it pisses off the Empire,” Laezra says automatically, then, “Luke, please. I am so tired. There was a whole... thing. I haven't slept in my own bed for three weeks. My student had to use her lightsaber in actual combat for the first time. I had to side with my commanding officer against my mentor, even though the asshole was absolutely in the right, and I'm feeling some kinda way about it. Sometimes preemptive action is good, actually, but don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Sorry,” says Luke. “Is she ok? Your student, I mean.” Laezra still refuses to tell Luke the name of his or his fellow Navigator Jedi's student, and wierd trust issues aside, it makes conversation grammatically difficult sometimes.

“Yeah. We're ok. We were both doing twelve hour shifts on the way home, though, because I guess ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ doesn’t mean ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ when the ship’s actual Sky Walker is made of germs and fever and barf. Then it becomes ‘jump-by-jump is so inefficient, this information is so critical, everybody’s so tired. Have you ever had the experience of getting nosebleed blood crusted in your beard? BecauseI don’t recommend it.”

Between Leia and Laezra, Luke knows enough classified information to sink two major governments. Or at least inconvenience them a lot.

"Ok, ok, ok," Luke decides he's going to sit down on the grass,and only realises it’s still wet from the afternoon rainstorm once his pants are already soaked. “So. Listen. You know things.”

“Wild,” Laezra says flatly. “Is this how you write report cards at your school?”

Luke glares down at the little hologram. “You know things about Mandalorians,” he clarifies. He decides he's gonna stand back up, and while he's at it he may as well do a few more laps.

“I-- Luke. Luke you can't tell me I'm the only person you know who knows a Mandalorian. Who I am, just so we're super clear, still on pretty shaky footing with, given my whole... everything.”

Luke waves this off. He is very over Laezra having fucked off on actual Purrgils, never to return, less than a year before Luke discovered he was a space wizard and could have really desperately used some support in that from someone who wasn't a hundred years old and a friend of his father's. It's so fine. He definitely doesn't lie awake imagining being one half of a pair of Jedi, back when the Rebellion had felt huge and overwhelming and kind of terrifying. Some people blow up a massive space station/doomsday weapon full of living beings (twice) and hold their evil dad in their arms while he dies. Some people ride away in a burst of martyrdom on their bffs the legendary space whales. Some people live alone but for two little kids in the ruins of a temple that they call a school, desperately trying to rebuild an entire religious and cultural institution from barely legible texts and ghosts. Some people live in another galaxy and embark on exciting new projects for an alien government where they get to research brand new Force techniques and go on adventures and live in an apartment where they can just walk across the street and buy fresh pastries whenever they want to.

Jedi do not feel envy. Jedi do not feel resentment. Jedi are always well aware that the grass is perpetually greener.

“I have a Mandalorian now,” Luke says, instead of any of this.

“Like, you... have obtained one? Are you feeding them? They need so much exercise, I cannot emphasise this enough.”

Luke puts his comm on the ground so he can drop his face into his hands. “He gave me? His kid? But also I think he's the king of the Mandalorians, and he keeps stopping by for visits, and I don't want to mess up.”

“This is so much,” Laezra says. “This is so much. Luke Skywalker, are you crushing on the Mand’alor?”

“Calling you was a mistake,” Luke says.

“Calling me was the opposite of a mistake, oh my God. What House? What Clan? I ask like the answer will mean anything to me, but like..... it might.”

“His name's Din,” Luke says. “I don't know if I'm supposed to tell people that.”

“And have you and Din..... you know?”

“He doesn't take his helmet off,” Luke says, helplessly. “Except once, and I think that was... not ideal. For him.”

“But was it ideal for you– sorry, sorry. Ok. Was he an Academy kid?”

“I don't think so,” Luke says. “He barely knew anything about the war. He didn't know who I was. He has a lightsaber that he really doesn't want to have, though.”

“Wait. Wait. So he's like.... the real deal. You're having sexy parent/teacher interviews with the legit Mand’alor.”

“I'm not having sexy anything with anybody,” Luke says.

“That's so sad, my guy. But hey, keep on trucking. I bet you can seduce him with your farmboy charms.”

“His son eats frogs,” says Luke. “I caught him a whole bucket full to take with him last time Din came to take him on a trip.”

“You just. ...handed the Mand’alor a bucket of frogs and his kid? ‘Have a good time, gang!’ You’re my very favourite little guy, Luke.”

“I think most of them escaped inside his ship,” Luke admits. “Which, actually, let me tell you about his kriffing ship–”

“Why am I perpetually surrounded by pilots? Luke, look at me. Look me in the eye. I don't care about his ship. Tell me about his cute kid or his dick or the actual ass Darksaber. Do not tell me about his ship.”

“It's very bad, though. It’s a bad ship and he should feel bad about it, he lets his child ride around in it, and I know for a fact his fuel injectors were recalled–”

“So were you hoping I'd... know the Mando dating cheat codes, or something?” Laezra says loudly.

Luke frowns. “I want to get to know him as a person. I'm his son's teacher. It'd be inappropriate for me to ... do anything. I'm just hoping I can maybe be a bit more culturally sensitive.”

Luke's only ever seen one propper, full-colour picture of Laezra that isn't a blue light holocall; there’s a holo on General Syndulla’s desk of a grinning teenager, limbs gawky and eyes that reminded Luke of the feral tookas he was never allowed to take home during trips into town as a kid. Even so, it's easy for Luke to picture the other man sitting in the dark of his bedroom, shoving his hands back through his hair as he groans. Luke wonders if he's the kind of person who needs to have everything unpacked and in its place when he comes home from a mission, or if he's more the 'dump bag and clothes on floor, fall face first onto nearest flat surface' type. It's probably a weird thing to wonder, but it's the sort of thing Luke knows about all his other friends.

“Ok. Luke.” He drops his hands from his hair and leans in close to his comm, so the top half of his face is all Luke sees, weird and disproportionate as the camera tries to compensate. “I bet you've probably been reading a bunch of old Jedi books or scrolls or cave paintings about the danger of attachment. Maybe your ghosts have lectured you. But that's what they are. Ghosts and old writings. You're starting something new. And-- Kanan. My Master. He loved somebody very much, and she loved him back. And he was the best Jedi I can imagine.”

“You can just say it was General Syndulla,” says Luke, who has only ever seen one mention of attachments in the documents he’s recovered, but doesn’t want to devalue what Laezra is trying to tell him.

“Ok, yeah. They loved each other so much, and I never once saw it interfere with Kanan’s dedication to helping others. To making the galaxy a safer, kinder place. If anything I think she made him better. And vice-versa.”

“I just meant,” Luke says carefully, “that I wouldn't want to risk things not working out and Din not wanting to leave his son here anymore. There's nobody else who will train him. But I’ll keep the other stuff in mind.”

“I have so many things I definitely don't actually want to say to Ahsoka,” Laezra mutters. “But oh boy am I thinking them.”

Luke presses his lips together. He doesn't know if Laezra knows who Vader was when he was a Jedi. Doesn't know if it'd mean anything to him even if he did know. “She's got some pretty compelling reasons for the choices she makes, he says. "I don’t agree with her, but… I mean. Anybody can become dangerous if attachment gets possessive, but you've gotta admit Force users are especially risky.”

“People just keep making bigger guns,” Laezra points out. “How are they any less dangerous?”

“A gun can't get inside your head and change how you feel. It can't make you do things you wouldn't normally do.”

“Ahahaha,” says Laezra, and his hands go back over his face as he leans away from the camera. “You don't need The Force for that one, either.”

Luke winces. “Anyway,” he says, because he knows most people don't actually want to talk about their feelings, even if that seems super counter-intuitive. Whatever. “How do I become friends with the Mand'alor?”

“You keep saying it and it doesn't get any less unhinged. I don't know. You're already taking care of his kid, and you value family. You're highly skilled in combat. There's really no secret trick to it, just... be a person.”

“I've tried that,” Luke says. “I'm so bad at being a person around him though.”

“Does he like art?” Laezra asks, with a sudden burst of gleeful intensity. “Luke does he like art, this is important. I can tell you so much about art. Do you want to know which chemical combinations are the best for neon colours and also timed explosions? Do you want to know about historical graffiti culture throughout the Outer Rim? Do you want to know how to use the remaining art from the various Mandalorian factions to construct a sociopolitical thesis on their people with a focus on military tactics?”

“You know what," says Luke, "I think I hear the kids calling me.”

“Coward,” Laezra says immediately

“Go back to bed; say hi to your student for me; may The Force be with you bye.”

Laezra is still swearing at him, laughing,when Luke clicks the channel closed.

Luke, with all the dignity befitting the last Jedi Master, opens his notebook and writes 'Ask if he likes art.'

#star wars #luke skywalker #ezra bridger #tumblrfic tag #star wars why?#full disclosure this is the result of a few cocktails but I have no regrets #canon? I don't know her #I just think these two should be friends #also Luke didn't know Ezra before he became a merit adopted #and always has to remind himself that all his rebel friends are not in fact just mispronouncing his name #chissezra au

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 5 months

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Okay so. House hidden away in the recesses of the Tardis. Castor leaving a copy of themself running in the background of the Tardis. 14 finding them both (separately). I think. Perhaps. There is an argument for combining these two concepts, because everything is better with polyamory (and honestly the Doctor isn't really one person anyway so it sorta already is) and also because 14 being ganged up on by bitchy digital Michael Sheens is delightful to me. I have not picked a prompt and this text will delete if I back out of the window.

The prompt is please?

(It’s Doctor Who so timelines not making sense should be a non issue)

Castor and House leaving themselves in the TARDIS systems is a great concept, but I feel bad for Arthur because he's not there. :(

(Oh wait! I have a whole little au with Fourteen and Arthur, so they're happy together there!)

Takes places after Wild Blue Yonder (so, possible spoilers???), Donna is there but she needs an emotional rest and so does the Doctor so they're in two separate parts of the TARDIS to chill (except Fourteen doesn't get that when their boyfriends want attention)

On with the fic!

The Doctor finally found their room after wandering the new halls. Usually they could find it, often because their personal door was covered in stickers, but the new halls were hard to navigate.

They also had a strong feeling that this was a bit of revenge about the whole... coffee thing. Oh, Donna found her room with ease, but that's because the TARDIS adored her! The Doctor was loved, yes, but the coffee thing, oof.

And the two stowaway boyfriends probably doesn't help at all, especially considering one of them tried to kill her before.

And speaking of them...

The Doctor opened the door, finding figures in green and white, sitting on their bed, and looking like they had been in the middle of a conversation. Or an argument, considering that Castor and House used to always be at one another's throats back in the day.

"Whatever it is, can we... not?" The Doctor frowned, holding up their hands. "I am not in the mood."

"Oh?" Castor tilted his head. "Did something happen? You and Donna were gone for such a long time, and the TARDIS..."

"Abandoned you like a coward." House snorted.

The Doctor gave him a look before undoing their tie and undoing the one button on their vest. They tossed them aside with a sigh. "No, she didn't. It's the HADS, and you know what that is. You're in her systems, you know her emergency systems."

"He's being an idiot, ignore him, darling." Castor said, the blue-ish hologram at their side now, putting a hand on their arm. They felt a small buzz from the electrical nature of the hologram, like touching the sonic displays from their new screwdriver. A similar technology, the TARDIS was being kind to Castor.

House, however, continued to just be a classic hologram, nothing solid about him. She was still bitter, good.

"Oh, stop buttering them up." House clucked his tongue. "You weren't exactly any help with getting them and the redhead to safety."

"And neither were you, the TARDIS had to abandon them in that... where exactly were you?"

The Doctor opened their mouth, then closed it with an audible click of their teeth. They didn't want to talk about the space station, they didn't want to talk about seeing the Not-Things, this face looking back at them with a cold, hollow stare that shouldn't be in those eyes.

"A bad place." The Doctor finally said as they stepped away from Castor and kicked off their trainers. They dropped on their bed, back facing the holograms.

"A bad place?" House scoffed. "Looked like a dirty, old spaceship to me."

"It seemed bad enough to blow up." Castor added.

"Probably the Doctor's doing, they tend to blow things up."

"Sounds like that might be the case."

The Doctor curled up and covered their head with a pillow. "Can you two just... not talk about this right now? Please?"

It was still too much too soon, especially with the conversation about The Flux, when they thought that they could finally tell someone they trusted with everything about how it haunted them, even now. Like the Time War, Donna would understand, she always did-

And yet...

There was a hand on their back, the gentle tingle of energy against them. "That bad?" Castor asked.

There was a hum from the TARDIS and House sighed. "She said for us to leave, that you'd be better in a bit. I guess we can leave, for now, but we'll check on you."

"I don't doubt it." The Doctor muttered and felt the pillow move away. They looked at Castor, as those pale eyes that showed worry. Not as cold as he used to be, maybe he's learned a bit more humility in his time in the TARDIS mainframe? Maybe that was Arthur's doing.

"I'll be fine, I just need to rest. This body hasn't stopped since it started going." The Doctor said, smiling just a little.

Castor smiled and moved away from the Doctor. "If you say so, we'll be close by, darling. I'll make sure that this idiot doesn't pester you."

"Fuck off, Castor." House said before blinking out. Castor smirked, giving a little smug head wiggle, then he blinked out as well.

The Doctor sighed, shaking their head, before closing their eyes. A rest might help.

Castor is still an ass, but I'd like to think he does care about the Doctor very much. House is a prick, but cares. In a way.

Probably not what you wanted, but there was still some bitchy Michael Sheen boyfriends in this, Fourteen just needs break!

#good omens extended universe #john's drabbles

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thefinalfrontpage · 6 months

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Fic cover for @jazzfic 's amazing and spooky contribution to Holoween 2023 run by @holo-squad

Friend Corn Wants to Play - jazzfic - Star Trek: Picard [Archive of Our Own]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: La Sirena Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Emil | La Sirena’s Emergency Medical Hologram & Agnes Jurati Characters: Agnes Jurati, Emil | La Sirena’s Emergency Medical Hologram, Enoch | La Sirena’s Emergency Navigational Hologram, Cristóbal Rios Additional Tags: holoween, Holodecks & Holosuites (Star Trek), Mild Horror, Background Relationships, Gallows Humor Summary:

Fears are silly, right? But she has Emil on her side, so surely Agnes can face this one.

Written for holoween week run by @holo-squad

#@jazzfic #regionalpancakeedits #fanfic book covers #fic rec #agnes jurati #alison pill #emil (emh)#santiago cabrera #holoween #holoween2023

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 6 months

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I didn’t have the time (yet) to write anything new for Holoween, but since it’s okay to repost old stuff and I didn’t want to NOT post anything today, here’s a ficlet from my Whumptober 2020 series that may suit the bill. At least I think it’s got some spookiness along with some humor, and our holos once more save the day.

What’s A Whumpee Got To Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?

Hollow-eyed, Rios crossed the bridge to drop into the pilot seat. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Hospitality Hologram shimmering away, but he was too tired to voice his chronic annoyance with that particular crew member, and he secretly had to admit that he was grateful for the cup of tar-black coffee he found steaming within reach. He took a sip of the scalding hot liquid, desperate for a caffeine kick.

“Got any sleep?”

Rios hadn’t even seen Raffi, slumped as she sat in the navigator’s seat. She swiveled around to him with hanging shoulders, her curls wilder than ever, the rings under her eyes so dark they looked like bruises.

“No,” Cris sighed. “You?”

It was a rhetorical question, really, and Raffi huffed, pointing at her face. “Do I look like I slept?”

Fact was, none of them had slept in three days - except for Picard, who was out like a light in his quarters after the EMH had insisted on dosing him with a narcotic, worried about the old man’s heart. Sleep deprivation, he’d lectured them, could kill, and Rios was starting to believe him. Only that he was close to killing someone. Anyone, honestly. After nearly seventy-two hours of being trapped, with an offline engine, in a cosmic phenomenon that was somehow affecting their brainwaves, Rios was suffering from a very short fuse.

The most enraging part: While Raffi, Picard and him - the only human crew members on board at the moment - were turning into zombies, the holograms remained completely unaffected. Bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed, they zipped through La Sirena’s decks, running system checks and analyzing scans and fiddling with the ship’s engine, driving Rios crazy with their limitless energy and chipper mood.

Too bad that a hologram didn’t die when you choked it with your bare hands.

Rios threw a murderous glance at Emmet, the hologram currently slumbering in his seat in front of the tactical controls. He was the worst to bear, falling asleep in an instant as soon as his code told him he was sitting and no hostile activity required him to be awake. Feet propped up on the console, head tipped back and mouth open, he was currently snoring obliviously. And as a hologram, he didn’t even need to sleep.

Rios’ fingers involuntarily curled into claws.

“What is the nature of your psychiatric emergency?”

The EMH had materialized beside him and, hands in his pockets, was studying him with professional concern.

“You heart rate is elevated, your blood pressure is climbing, and your cortisol output-”

“Deactivate!”

“But Captain, I am…”

“Deactivate!”

The hologram disappeared with an affronted poof.

“Nice,” Raffi commented sardonically, chin propped up on a weary arm. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Cris meant to roll his eyes, but it would worsen his headache, so he left it. Scrubbing his hand across his face, he tried to knit a clear string of thoughts together in his increasingly unreliable brain.

“We need to get away from here, Raff,” he said darkly.

She blinked tiredly. “I know.”

And it was true. What had felt like a weird anomaly three days ago - their impulse and warp drive dying suddenly, then the insomnia - had escalated into a dangerous crisis. In spite of incessant work, they hadn’t been able to bring the engines back online, and they didn’t need the EMH’s lectures to point out the consequences of sleep deprivation. They felt them.

Physical exhaustion was the least of it. Cris could get past the headache, the soreness, the nausea and the dizziness. But the tricks the insomnia played on his mind were an altogether different thing. He could no longer concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes, and his short term memory had gone to fritz. It was bad enough that the tiredness was affecting his eyesight, causing the EMH to suggest reading glasses and almost getting his programming wiped by an infuriated Cris. But now he was starting to see things.

Hallucinations. They were a well-known but nevertheless deeply disturbing side-effect, and Cris, all too familiar with the phenomenon from his breakdown after the Ibn Majid disaster, was once more stalked by demons he thought he’d laid to rest. Captain Vandemeer had visited him in his quarters when he’d been staring into the darkness last night, sleepless, but too exhausted to remain on his feet. The top of his head gone, blood and brain matter dripping from the ceiling, Vandemeer had looked at Cris with opaque eyes, and it had taken half a bottle of Pisco to make him disappear.

Rios punched a button on his holographic controls.

“Ean!” He barked. “Status report!”

“We’re still offline, Cap’n,” came the instant reply. “But Enoch thinks he may be on to something. There’s a pattern of sub-photon waves that seems to be targeting the temperature sensors with galandrion radiation, effectively-”

“Only the bottom line, Ean,” Cris cut him off. His brain had shot down after “sub-photon waves”, unable to process anything more complicated than a spaghetti recipe.

“Bottom line?” Ean repeated. “We’re working on it, Cap’n.”

“What Ean means,” Enoch picked up, flickering into existence on the bridge with an avid expression, “is that we think we’re close to solving the problem. Now, if the scan check that I reprogrammed to include sub-photonic and pseudo nano-neurologic patterns reveals that not only the temperature sensors but also the newtonian reverse weight-speed effect of-”

“Callate!”Cris shot up from his seat. “Shut the fuck- Jesus!”

He’d closed up to the ENH in two strides, right fist pulled back to punch, and he’d managed to rein himself in only at the very last moment. He shook out his arms, trembling, trying to get rid of the tension and the shock he felt at his near loss of control.

Eyebrows raised in innocent wonder, Enoch cocked his head.

“Captain?” he asked kindly. “Would you like me to re-activate Emil? I am sure he could provide you with a sedative, if you’d like.”

Rios shot around again, blood boiling. All of a sudden, the bridge’s ambient lights felt too bright, and the cluster of stars visible through the panoramic window seemed to move forward, speeding up, threatening to attack and swallow La Sirena.

“Emmet!” Cris yelled. “Deflector shields!”

The ETH jerked awake and blinked at his screens in confusion. “Que? No veo nada.”

Raffi had gripped the arms of her seat and was looking at Rios in alarm.

“Babe,” she said anxiously and got up. “There’s nothing out there. You have to… Here.” She grabbed his arm and tried to lead him back to his chair. “Here, sit down.”

“What?!”

Rios glared at her. Raffi’s face looked strange all of a sudden. It… reshaped. Her hair shrank back into her skull, getting shorter, smoother… white. Her skin brightened, nose widening, her eyes morphing from brown to blue. Stubble appeared, and her clothes… his clothes… a Starfleet uniform with a captain’s badge.

“Sit down, son.”

Vandemeer. Intact, smiling paternally, he gently led Rios to his seat and sat him down.

Then, still smiling, he lifted a phaser, put it in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Rios screamed, and he was still screaming when the EMH put a hypospray to his neck and cut his strings.

XXX

“Coffee, babe?”

Rios blinked a veil of deep sleep from his eyes. When his vision sharpened, he saw Raffi’s hand in front of him, balancing a cup that smelled of heaven.

He sat up and stretched before he took the coffee, looking around his cabin. He felt rested, and, to his surprise, he heard the familiar hum of La Sirena’s impulse drive propelling the ship through space at cruising speed.

“We’re back online?”

“Yes. Three days ago.”

“Three days ago?!” Rios almost spilled his coffee. “How long was I out?”

Raffi smiled, but there was an uncomfortable edge to it. “Three and a half days.”

“Dios.”

He racked his brain, memory creeping back in. Memory - and shame. Scratching his beard, he looked at Raffi with unease.

“It was pretty bad, huh?”

“Pretty.” She nodded. Then she placed her hand on his arm and rubbed it gently. “But you weren’t the only one. I cracked a few hours after Emil put you out. He says I was trying to open the cargo hatch to take a walk.”

Cris lifted astonished brows. “Good idea.”

Raffi’s worried face softened into a chuckle. “Not one of my best. I’m glad your holos were there to stop me. They’re not entirely useless, you know?”

“Right.” Cris smirked. God, he hadn’t felt this rested in ages. “Not entirely. But please don’t go and tell them I agreed with you on that. Enoch will never stop rubbing it under my nose.”

As if on cue, the EMH materialised at the foot of Rios’ bed.

“Captain Rios,” he said. “I am pleased to see you awake! And your brain waves have returned to a normal pattern. Now, if I could ask you to meet me in sickbay for a thorough scan of your neural-”

“Deactivate!”

Raffi smiled as the hologram begrudgingly dissolved.

“You ready to come back to the bridge, Captain?” she asked Rios, the twinkle back in her eyes. “Or do you need more sleep?”

Cris swung his legs from the bed.

“Sleep is overrated,” he said sardonically and headed off to take a shower.

#holoween2023 #star trek picard #emil (emh)#enoch (enh)#ian (eeh)#emmet (eth)#holosquad #always team la sirena #cristobal rios #raffi musiker

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paulgadzikowski · 9 months

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[Image description: Preview panel for the comic strip at the link. Missing scene from Life Line (2000). Dr. Zimmerman, Counselor Troi, and the Voyager Emergency Medical Hologram of Star Trek Voyager are talking. Zimmerman is saying, "You'd think Commander Data's counselor would be broader-minded about synthetic intelligences." Troi is saying to the EMH, "All right. Stipulating that it's not holo-addiction on her part - what about the trauma to hm?" The EMH says, "Pardon me?" Unfortunately there are not image descriptions at the main Hero Of Three Faces site. End description.]

The Hero of Three Faces is fanfiction crossovers, but it’s comic strips with stick figures, but they’re triangles. Preview panel only. Click here for full cartoon. Or see the on-site navigation tutorial. Or see this blog’s FAQ, or my archive tumblog’s FAQ. Cartoons may contain unmarked spoilers. Cartoons linked from Tumblr 10:00 (Central US time) daily are the previous day’s new update and the posts are pinned to the top of this blog. Cartoons linked from Tumblr 22:00 daily are from the archive and the posts are pinned only during annual summer hiatus of new updates.

Thanks for reading.

#voyager #star trek voyager #star trek #fan art #fancomics

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jazzfic · 1 year

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*a poll by Steward.

#holo squad #star trek picard #must use new feature for nonsense!

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demiclar · 5 months

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Mission Log

Destcember Day 1 - Mission Log - Ao3

Shiro returns to the Iron Temple after a patrol of the Cosmodrome to find someone waiting for him.

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Shiro lets out a sigh that seems to come from his very bones, cold air whirring through his chassis as he climbs the temple steps. His whole body feels like it's caked in snow and ice, frozen after the long day spent outside. He feels stiff from the cold. His joints ache, his back is tense, his whole body exhausted with the drain put on his systems as he fights to keep his body warm in this cold. He stomps the snow off his boots on the steps, kicking the sides of his feet against the stone to dislodge all the snow he picked up while he was on patrol. Even without it, he feels weighed down.

He crosses the open space at the top of the steps, shouldering his way through the heavy doors and into the central hall of the temple. The great fire keeps the space warm, and Shiro lets out another sigh—this time of relief—as he makes his way towards it. Even with only Shiro and the wolves living in the temple, Shiro keeps the fire lit for Saladin’s sake, as well as his own. He sustains it with kernels of his solar Light, resting among the firewood heaped inside. He can still feel the vestiges of Saladin’s power within the flames. Even gone from the temple, his power will linger within the flames so long as they still breathe, living alongside Shiro’s Light like some piece of him is still here. In many ways, Shiro supposes he still is, in the history of the Iron Lords marked in the temple, the statues, the blades, even the scrapes in stone. Shiro holds his hands over the great fire, letting Saladin’s lingering power drive the heat from his extremities.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the click of nails on stone. One of the wolves, Finnala, emerges from the corridor that leads further into the temple. He kneels down when she crosses the room, towards him, smiling when she licks his face, her tail wagging, clearly pleased to see him. Still, there’s something restrained in her excitement. When Saladin left, the wolves became more attached to Shiro. They follow him more when he leaves, sometimes descending down the mountain with him, following him along his patrol route. When he returns, they whine and cry, even howling sometimes. They descend on him in a fury of tails and slobbery tongues, practically climbing on top of him, but now, Finnala is the only one to greet him, and instead of climbing on top of him, or shoving her head into his legs in a demand for more attention, she just follows at his side when he rises.

He turns away from the living quarters, heading down the corridor opposite the one Finnala emerged from. The hallway leads to old studies and work spaces, rooms where the Iron Lords used to store armor and weapons, areas for sparring when the weather is too cold outside to emerge from the stone fortress.

He follows the corridor to the workspace he made for himself, a large room filled with Vanguard gear. The technology looks at odds with the stone temple, so Shiro made sure the area was tucked away in a corner of the temple. Holoprojectors, data screens, and even a holographic war table depicting the cosmodrome sit on the smooth stone floor, hooked up to a generator in the corner. Finnala follows him inside, then drops herself onto the largest dog bed the Last City had to offer, set beside a desk off to one side of the large room. Shiro can’t help his smile at how she still manages to make the bed look small.

He wanders over to the war table, pulling a small data slate from his pocket as he goes. He sets it onto the surface of the table, watching as both devices light up and all the data Shiro had collected during his patrol transfers onto the holographic table. He taps the slate, navigating to his logs and pressing the button to record.

“Mission log…” he sighs, adjusting the holograms on the table until he can draw up the right dataset. “Two hundred and fifty-seven. House Salvation and House of Dusk Eliksni are fighting for control of the cosmodrome. House of Devils holdouts are still holding the Plaguelands but their numbers are dwindling by the day. Some conflict near the Doomed Sea, House Salvation won a skirmish but I’m not about to count the Devils out of the fight just yet.”

He runs his fingers over the edge of the war table. The holograms on the surface confirm his words, little dots detailing the forces moving against one another in the data Shiro had brought back, with the Devil splicer numbers dropping at the Doomed Sea. He shifts his gaze to the rest of the map.

“Overall, numbers are staying pretty constant. House of Dusk and House of Salvation are bringing reinforcements in from elsewhere and even falling to ruin the House of Devils is still getting turncoats onto their side. The title of ‘Splicer’ still holds a lot of weight for these guys.”

His face falls, his whole being sobering as he remembers the bodies Shaw had picked up near his camp, the ones Shiro had sent back to the City, back to their own Splicer.

“All efforts to convert the Eliksni of the Cosmodrome to the House of Light have failed. Two casualties. I recommend we halt conversion efforts until we can utilize methods that will truly protect our allies.”

His metal lips pinch into a frown and he stares down at the war table, stuck in a loop of replaying data, Eliksni forces marching against one another in an endless cycle.

“Shiro out.”

He presses the data slate to stop the recording, and as he stares down at the war table below him, a familiar ache squeezes his chest so tight he feels like he can’t quite breathe. His eyes meet Finnala’s from across the room and he pushes himself off the war table.

“How about dinner, huh girl?”

The wolf jumps to her feet, eagerly following Shiro out of the study and back towards the living quarters.

“Where is everyone, anyways?” He asks her, not that he expects a response. “Did you kids go hunting today?” There’s no blood on her muzzle, which is usually a sign of a hunt, and the winter makes things harder for the wolves given the lack of game running out and about, but Shiro can’t think of another reason why the wolves wouldn’t come to greet him when he arrived back at the temple. “You’d better not have brought any rabbits inside again.”

After Saladin had left to join Caiatl's ranks, Shiro had built a set of wolf-sized doggy doors into the temple, meant to allow the wolves to move in and out of the temple as they pleased without needing Shiro or Saladin around to open any doors for them. Normally, they’d open the temple doors for the wolves in the mornings and let them back in if they wished to return at night, or during particularly harsh weather, but after Shiro’s schedule had proved too chaotic to stick to the routine, he’d decided he wanted a way to let the wolves in and out on their own. The wolf doors are in the furthest corner of the temple to isolate the cold, and they have to slip first though a weighted flap into what used to be an unused bedroom, then take a ram up to another flap that leads out of a basement window and outside, into the main courtyard. It’s not the most elegant system, but it works. Unfortunately, it also means the wolves can return with whatever they please. Shiro hasn’t quite taught them to leave their carcasses outside.

Finnala just trots at his side, her gaze perfectly innocent as they make their way into the quarters.

They round a corner and Shiro can make out what looks to be the whole pack, spread out on a thick fur in one of the temple common rooms, laying around an old couch. Half of them are asleep, the other half chewing on old bones or antlers, some contesting over their prizes, but Shiro can’t tell if they’re old or new. He hurries forward, looking around for the carcass he suspects will be on the floor, just out of sight.

“You know you’re not supposed to–”

He breaks off as soon as he rounds the couch. There’s no carcass, but instead he spots a familiar Iron Lord, a thick blanket thrown over him, with one of the year old wolves draped over him like they aren’t aware of their size.

Shiro watches as Saladin’s face shifts, his eyes opening with the sluggishness he only allows himself in a place he really trusts, and he waits until Saladin’s eyes focus on his, a soft smile on his lips.

“You’re back.” Saladin observes. Shiro feels himself smile.

“So are you.”

Saladin nudges the wolf off his lap, and when he pulls Shiro down and presses a kiss to his lips, all the cold that had clung to Shiro, the tightness in his chest and the ache in every limb suddenly eases. He leans into Saladin, and at least for a moment, everything is alright.

#destcember2023 #Destcember 2023 prompt 1 #destiny shiro 4 #destiny saladin #Shiro-4 x Saladin Forge #I just love them okay #demiwrites

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heartfledged · 2 years

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@cristobalrios - continued from discord

All five holograms stared at her from around the room. Emmet watched her skeptically. “Hm. No me gusta,” he stated. “Nosotras no la conocemos.”

Emil nudged Emmet. “Be nice. She helped us. You know the captain was not in good shape when she found him,” Emil scolded lightly.

Emmet grunted vaguely and sat down in a chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Sorry about him,” Enoch said, smiling. “He inherited the captain’s Moodiness trait. The rest of us know how to actually behave around guests.”

“Are you the one we detected out there?” Steward asked. “Thank you for helping the captain. With the state that he was in, he wouldn’t have been able to stay awake to pull himself to safety,” Steward told her. “See, Emmet? It’s a good thing you didn’t shoot at her when we detected her,” he said, turning his gaze to Emmet.

Emmet put his legs up on a cargo crate. “That’s still not off the table yet,” Emmet commented. Steward cleared his holographic throat (needlessly), and pushed Emmet’s feet off the crate.

“Anyway…” Ian piped in, in an attempt to draw attention away from Steward and Emmet’s bickering. “While they’re blethering on, someone should introduce us. Emmet’s the grumpy one. He’s security so I suppose being skeptical is a part of his job. Steward’s the one he’s fighting with, the one who thanked you for helping the captain. He’s hospitality, and they don’t get along.”

Enoch came up to shake her hand. “I’m Enoch, I’m the Navigational hologram, and it’s wonderful to meet you.” He looked at Emil. “And this is Emil, he’s our doctor!” Emil also came up to shake her hand.

“And I’m Ian. Engineering. We’re La Sirena’s Emergency Holograms. Welcome aboard, lassie.”

Avyra had her reservations towards getting into the ship. Cris had invited her, though it seemed more like a ‘you saved my life so I should probably invite you’ gesture than a welcoming one. Still, she couldn’t fight the will to see what was inside. They had ships here, but nothing like this, all enclosed and metal, with no mast, balloon, or sails to be seen.

Inside, however, she’d found herself overwhelmed to say the least. Cris had disappeared somewhere, or rather, she thought he had. In his place, however, were five identical people. She froze, eyes wide, heart racing, and she barely processed the threats from one of them, followed by the bickering. They all looked alike, yes, but they also had… different accents? None of them sounded like Cris.

“Okay. Um. Nice to meet you, I. I think.” Avyra paused, blinking, trying to sort her mind back to the present. “Sorry,” she finally apologized. “This is very… overwhelming. Holograms? I — I don’t know that word.”

#cristobalrios #༄ | natural; wild; and free [ic]#༄ | on motionless wing they emerge from the lifting mists [main]

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leonhorn · 7 days

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youtube

In 2053 The Canyon Dwellers | In 20xx Scifi and Futurism by In 20xx Futurism In a post-apocalyptic world, a group of resilient individuals have established the Nursery, a botanical splicing center located in a desert valley surrounded by giant wind turbines, canyons, and mountains. As they prepare for impending environmental catastrophes, they work tirelessly to adapt wild plants to the harsh desert conditions, employing cutting-edge genetic engineering techniques to create drought-resistant, nutrient-dense crops. Their efforts have drawn attention from around the globe, attracting visitors and scientists alike to witness the wonders of their innovative approach to sustainable agriculture. However, as the looming threat of a catastrophic storm approaches, tensions arise within the Nursery community. Daisuke, the visionary founder, leads a breakaway group to establish a more secure shelter in the nearby canyons, where they discover a unique microclimate that promises a better chance of survival. As they race against time, they face challenges in setting up a self-sustaining ecosystem, from harnessing renewable energy sources to implementing water conservation strategies and ensuring a reliable food supply. Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, the group must navigate interpersonal conflicts, confront past traumas, and embrace unconventional solutions. With the arrival of the great storm, they find themselves facing a battle for survival, forcing them to confront the harsh realities of their new world and question the true nature of their existence. Will their ingenuity and determination be enough to endure the looming catastrophe? The fate of the Nursery hangs in the balance, as they strive to create a sustainable future in the face of adversity. 1. Genetic engineering/splicing of plants (ex: desert-adapted plants, shade cacti, corn that grows in saltwater, stomach plants, ivory agaves) 2. Carb-mesh and my-creet (materials for storm-proofing buildings) 3. Lutin Bots and Mover Bots (construction robots) 4. Quadcopter drones for mapping and data collection 5. Hologram table and quantum computer for simulations 6. Weather sensors and monitoring systems 7. Food brewing systems (for producing meat, dairy products) 8. Algae beds 9. Saltwater tanks 10. Synthetic collagen crates 11. Neuplus (a cognitive enhancement drug) 12. Mind's Encore (a brain scanning/emulation service) 13. Bio-heritage Guardians (collect DNA samples) 14. Medusa (a local internet/communication system) 15. Protein computers 16. Autonomous vehicles (jeeps, autono-cabs) 17. Solar panels, wind turbines, hydrogen grills (renewable energy sources) 18. Synthetic lignin (biodegradable material replacing paper/cloth) 19. Link anklets (wearable communication devices) 20. Life Evolver AI (for designing lifeforms) Many of the characters in this project appear in future episodes. Using storytelling to place you in a time period, this series takes you, year by year, into the future. From 2040 to 2195. If you like emerging tech, eco-tech, futurism, perma-culture, apocalyptic survival scenarios, and disruptive science, sit back and enjoy short stories that showcase my research into how the future may play out. This is Episode 53 of the podcast "In 20xx Sci fi and Futurism." The companion site is https://in20xx.com (https://in20xx.com) where you can find a timeline of the future, descriptions of future development, and printed fiction. These are works of fiction. Characters and groups are made-up and influenced by current events but not reporting facts about people or groups in the real world. Copyright © Leon Horn 2021. All rights reserved. Episode link: https://ift.tt/FYGcyZ6 (video made with https://ift.tt/jfG2wyD) via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_xPRHzoow4

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