hair haiku and limerick - poems 29 and 30

long strands brown and white

stretch from twelve seasons of growth

hair like a lion's mane

***

he grew his hair so long

though many thought it wrong

it looked so damn fine

in the spring sunshine

made him feel like King Kong

jail haiku and limerick - poems 27 and 28

metal door clangs shut

hours pass safe from winter cold

until cell opens

***

a man once went to jail

it left him feeling frail

but once back in bed

at his own homestead

he enjoyed his new tale

Greetings to my readers in Brazil

 Congrats, you knocked Singapore and Russia off their perch to claim the number 2 spot. 

This Bud's (or Xingu, your pick) for you:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dht_3NziwSw

This one too:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XnQYHlXuEY

My global audience for the past 6 months

 

Extraterrestrial amino acids from the Murchison meteorite and their possible uses (HMT - hexamethylenetetramine as the precursor)

Original paper:  Extraterrestrial hexamethylenetetramine in meteorites—a precursor of prebiotic chemistry in the inner solar system

Diagram from here: https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-020-20038-x?fromPaywallRec=false

All nine alien (forgive the hyperbole) amino acids contain a complex ring structure with four nitrogen atoms. 

In my dictionary of important organic compounds, I noted that similar molecules containing only CHNO with only four nitrogen atoms include: pentamidine, telmisartan, irinotecan, rifampicin, vinblastine, and others.

https://platedlizard.blogspot.com/2023/11/dictionary-of-useful-organic-compounds_11.html

The aforementioned compounds are mostly either antifungals or antibiotics derived from fungi, yet their chemical structures are totally different from the alien amino acids. 

It would be worthwhile to see what medicinal purposes these alien amino acids and related compounds might have. HMT (was discovered in 1859 by Butlerov and an industrial process for its synthesis exists.

While some medical uses of HMT are known (it has been used to treat urinary tract infections), I do not think the properties of its amino acid cousins have been studied to the same extent. 

Hired Raygun - part 7

I could go on forever about what happened out there, but since life is short, I'll skip to the end. 142 and I fought side by side in many more battles in our perilous journey across the stars. He, my best friend, died horribly. We were fighting our way out of the digestive tract of a gigantic alien beast when he stumbled into a pool of its gastric juices. He was dissolved alive while I frantically tried to pull him to safety. When my mind told me he was dead and gone, I flew into a berserker rage and shot my way out of the monster's guts with my machine gun and a few warp grenades.

When I got back to the ship, I got a brain scan from the psychologist machine and was found to be unfit for further service. Thus, I was quickly discharged and unceremoniously dumped like a bag of trash at the interstellar spaceport from which I came.

At least my brother was there to pick me up. Since he was a military test pilot, our family agreed he should be the first human I met once I got back to earth.

We didn't say much as we drove home, but he read my mind. We stopped at a late-night diner. When I got out of the car, I couldn't help but look up at the stars. The sky will always be my favorite souvenir.

My Facebook page - WAY MORE POPULAR THAN MY BLOG

 Check it out! You won't be disappointed. 

(20+) Facebook

A collapse in my online dating popularity

What goes up must come down. After 14 years of online dating, I'm now qualified to be a tour guide in hell.

From January:

From last week:

The Idiot Presidents of My Lifetime

I'll start with Reagan, who took office a few years after I was born. I wonder how many people my age know he co-starred with a chimp in a movie called Bedtime For Bonzo.

link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVd5xiA8_QY

"Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall...after I get done making a movie with a monkey!"

Since the advent of TV, Americans have consistently voted for the man I'll call the Homer Simpson Candidate for lack of a better term. In the US, stupid people have been more popular since about 1960. 

Granted, Homer's antics are fun to watch, but would anyone actually want to be his neighbor or coworker? Most likely not, yet Americans by the tens of millions want men like Homer to be the commander in chief.

Why does Bill Clinton wear boxers? To keep his ankles warm. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeXGnSpjgNM

He also did NOT have sex with that woman...but turns out he did.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_aGbdni7QNs

Good grief, how stupid do you have to be to get caught cheating? And his is idiot wife stuck with him anyway! Hence her unpopularity in less permissive cultures:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KjCv_JpZVQY

Below is a picture of George W Bush dressed as a cheerleader at a private high school. He is 4th from the left. Perhaps if he had spent some time studying there and elsewhere, he would not have been forced to order the shootdown of Flight 93 or authorized the invasion of the wrong country, Iraq.

It's a shame he went into politics instead of simply living for pleasure as most spoiled, dumb rich kids do. Hundreds of thousands of people would still be alive. 

Yeah, I bet you do you fucking war criminal. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNSQgZGhJkE

On to The Big Zero, Captain Noodle Arms. Behold his grimace and he struggles to lift monstrous 1-pound dumbbells. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0mTVax2-1w

The female anchor's reaction is priceless:

She goes on to say "I think I use heavier weights". Yes, my dear, our president is a pathetic weakling. But don't worry, he's very, very smart, as seen below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhVgTn2WEqI

2 years later, Russia annexed Crimea. Speaking of which...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wiMDmtcQEEM

Well kids, that's all you get. READ A BOOK!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1uc7ohS7cU

Romanian Captions Glitch on Boondocks Clip

The audio is clearly English, yet YouTube detected Romanian for some reason.

link:   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLaCI8h9A1g

I suspect more electronic tomfoolery from my former employer:

Paul Harrell did not kill anyone in 1967 because he was born in 1966 - removed by Facebook

Just more proof that macho men always tell tall tales. Mundus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. 

link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43eqKhpu5w0

link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXwHIF3aHR0

Facebook removed my post when I linked this article there. 

Odd YouTube auto-generated captions glitch

Its language recognition and translation software are excellent, so I'm wondering how it could confuse English with Czech. Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyQ0hzq4hYE

See what auto-generated captions you get. 

Brahmagupta's formula, Heron's formula, and the circumscription of polygons

I noticed recently that the formulas of Heron and Brahmagupta have the same structure, and thus I conjecture that any polygon with sides (a, b, c, d, etc.) and a semi-perimeter (s) that can be circumscribed will have an area (A) given by the following equations:

s = (a + b + c + d ....)/2

A = sqrt[(s - a)(s -b)(s - c)(s - d)....]

Heron's formula (for the area of any triangle)

s = (a + b + c)/2

A = sqrt[(s - a)(s -b)(s - c)]

Brahmagupta's formula (for any cyclic quadrilateral)

s = (a + b + c + d )/2

A = sqrt[(s - a)(s -b)(s - c)(s - d)]

Most Popular NBA YouTube Clip

I was curious what the most popular NBA (basketball) clip on the internet is and stumbled upon this. Does this guy want to shoot his own dick off? I hope he does shoot his own dick off. Even if he wants to shoot akimbo John Wick style, why carry them like that? I'm a fan of the New York reload, but your guns need to stay put until you need them. 

Oh yeah and the title of the clip got garbled somehow. Probably has nothing to do with the fact that I'm ex-NSA.  

source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiatfSQ0xwg

Most Expensive Warplane Built So Far Taken Down By Tiny Bird

 I said years ago that the F-35 sucks. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFo-5TBIRPI

When I tried to share the above video on Facebook, I got this:

How To Think Like A Machine

 

My Fort Gordon Alligator Encounter

 

I was stationed at Fort Gordon (now Fort Eisenhower) from January 2018 to May 2021. One night in April of 2021, I met with an alligator near the Leitner Lake campground. 

There is a big sign on a gate near the campground that says "WARNING: ALLIGATORS". The gate is on the boundary between Upper and Lower Leitner Lake. 

Late one night, I couldn't sleep, so I took a walk on the trail that loops around the upper lake. Bad idea, it turns out. I mistakenly thought that since alligators are cold-blooded, they are inactive at night. Oops.

It was just light enough that I could see, but not clearly. Not taking a flashlight was my second mistake. Seems it was mating season; the gators were out in force and ornerier than usual. As I walked around the lake, I could hear splashing noises that kept getting louder.

Suddenly, a large shape bolted out of the water and scampered into the woods. It was hard to tell how big it was, but it sounded big. It was at this point I decided it was time to head back to camp posthaste. I heard another loud splash, so I decided to fight fire with fire and let out an intimidating shout, a technique I learned from World of Warcraft. 

I walked at a brisk pace back to camp, periodically yelling and clapping my hands whenever I heard a splash or a gator bellow. 

I made several foolish decisions that night and was lucky to come away unscathed. My adventures in Africa gave me a false sense of security. After all, after you've eaten lunch a few feet away from a bunch of wild hippos. there's not much left to be afraid of.

"In the jungle you must wait until the dice read 5 or 8" - Jumanji

An Informal Proof of Lockhart's Inscribed Parallelogram Theorem

Screenshots from this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1gT2f3Fe44

Lockhart observes in his book Measurement that if you mark and connect the midpoints of the sides of ANY quadrilateral, you will inscribe a parallelogram. 

Here is my informal proof of why that is:

1. By induction, any quadrilateral can be formed by joining 3 pairs of congruent triangles where all the triangles are similar. 

2. In order to form a quadrilateral from such a set, one and only one pair of congruent triangles must share a side. 

3. The pair that share a side must form a parallelogram because they are congruent.

4. In order for the quadrilateral to have straight sides, all the triangles must be similar. That is, the other four triangles must share a side with the ones forming a parallelogram. 

5. Marking and joining the midpoints must create a set of congruent triangles because each set of opposite midpoints will be equidistant from midpoint of the shared side where they form a parallelogram. 

Not an elegant proof, but hey, at least it's shorter than that time Russell and Whitehead took 360+ pages to prove that 1 + 1 = 2. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Principia_Mathematica

As a lemma, if you connect the opposite instead of adjacent midpoints, you will cut the figure into four smaller versions of itself. 

There's probably an interesting progression for how many congruent circles of a given number can fit inside a larger circle. I'll leave that as an exercise for the reader. 

Is there a relationship between the Mandelbrot Set and the Riemann Zeta Function?

 Rotate one of them 180 degrees, and they look similar.

How My Brain Works

 See boobs:

Think traditional Arabic numeral for 5:

Mysterious Black NSA(?) Screens

Below is a screenshot from the following YouTube video I made of a strange event on my old laptop back in 2021:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Y38c59YfAY

I count 4 windows that look like command prompts. They would appear on the screen for less than a second before vanishing, and only when I was connected to or about to connect to the internet. At the time, I'd had that laptop for 7 years and never seen anything like that. I've spent thousands of hours using computers of all sorts for 30+ years, and I'd never seen anything like that until 2021. The screens appeared rarely, and I was lucky I had my camera ready to capture this image. After I uploaded the video to my old laptop, I never saw the screens again. 

As a former NSA employee, I find all of this suspicious, and the most likely explanation seems obvious. 

Hired Raygun - part 6

 

The time came for the next mission. Once more into the breech, as the old saying goes. From the porthole, I could see a armada of warships. Some were bombarding the planet and other were regular troop transports like the one I'd been riding the whole time. I could see beams of plasma and waves of missiles raining down on the surface. Something really big was going down, and I was feeling ill-prepared for it. The briefing was vague and not much more than an introduction to the various vehicles the enemy was using. Their weak points were shown as were the best weapons for attacking them. Given the choice, I'd rather shoot vehicles than droids or anything man-sized. Aim small, miss small, as the old saying goes. It's always easier to hit a larger target, though often harder to destroy them. That's what the grenades and rocket launchers were for. Given that each of us of could only carry so many, that explained why so many of us would be fighting together in the coming battle.

Time to drop. We were going to be planet-side for a while, so our suits were outfitted with various injectors: nutrients, stimulants, and painkillers. Fighting hard without a good meal is a special kind of hell, and another hardship we'd be forced to endure. My companion and I both loaded up with bandoliers of grenades, a rocket launcher, and carried more rockets in backpacks. Otherwise, the only other weapon we carried was the liquid ammo pistol, but neither of us expected to use it. From the briefing, it looked like the enemy consisted only of tracked armored vehicles, which made me wonder why our side didn't have any to send to meet them. Too costly maybe? It was impossible to say, and the answer wouldn't have mattered anyway. Even so, it was stupid to send out armor without infantry or air support. I dreaded encountering either without suitable armament.  

We touched down in the staging area near several other friendly troop ships. A few kilometers in the distance, the battle was raging. The atmosphere of the planet conducted the sound of it well. It seemed to have a thicker atmosphere and higher gravity. For as far as the eye could see in every direction were the ruins of an immense bombed-out city. To my left and right, I could see maybe a hundred or so friendly troopers total. Of course, we weren't told how many of the enemy we faced which I took as another bad sign. The high gravity made our march to the frontline and agonizing trudge. Perhaps the gravity was the reason the enemy stuck to vehicles. It was out of sheer laziness. Why walk when you can ride in style and let the other dumb bastards fumble around. Given the difficulty of movement, it seemed like the best strategy was to find a good hiding place and ambush the tanks as they rolled by.

Various troopers made the "disperse" hand signal, and so I gradually found myself alone. Not too far in front of me were the ruins of a multistory building. I could see windows and holes, so that would give me various options to shoot from. Given the high gravity, relocating wouldn't be easy unless I could improvise something. I figured the best thing would be to wait for a convoy. That way I could disable the lead and rear vehicles and thus trap the ones in the middle. Then it would be easy to destroy the rest of them. I decided to stick to the highest floor I could reach in the hope that the enemy guns couldn't elevate high enough to shoot back at me. You'd be surprised how often tanks and even ships have been destroyed in combat because they couldn't point their guns high or low enough at the enemy. That gave me another idea. After using up the rockets from my perch, I'd try to come at the enemy from street level.  

It was an exhausting climb to the top of the structure, so much so that it would be a serious struggle to retreat even in a dire emergency. I wanted to ration my nutrients and stimulants as I had no idea how long I'd be out in the field. At some point, I'd most likely run out of ammo, in which I'd be forced to either lie low somewhere and wait for the evacuation signal, or make the long, slow journey back to the landing zone in the hope that the empire made an ammo drop from us. We'd been briefed about ammo drops, which was one of the few encouraging bits of news that came before we landed. Another advantage of having the high ground was getting an excellent view of the battlefield. I could see several enemy columns and how fast they were moving. So far, none were headed in my direction, so I decided to prepare a few fighting positions near my vantage point. I put a few grenades from my bandolier near openings on each side of the building. That lightened the load a little and so made it easier for me to move from one to the other.

If the enemy armored vehicles were anything like the ones on earth, the armor on the top would be the thinnest and easiest to penetrate. It occurred to me just then that the high gravity meant I'd need to greatly adjust my usual grenade throw, so I practiced tossing around a few chunks of rubble until I was confident I could hit the top of tank that was just under any of my fighting positions. It was a long wait for a column to roll past me. Though the streets were wide enough, they were choked with rubble, and that made it slow going for the enemy. Gradually, the sound of engines and treads became louder. I peeked out from a hole in a wall and saw a column of five tanks. All had sentry guns of some sort on top that were meticulously scanning for threats in all directions. I had no way of knowing what sort of sensors they had, but I was certain that if I used the rocket launcher, I'd quickly be in their sights.     

 

Grenades it is then, I thought. Good. Fortune favors the brave. I armed one, dropped it onto the top of the lead tank, and scrambled to the next fighting position. I barely made it two steps before the enemy sentry guns were lighting up where I'd just been a moment before. It was at this time I became concerned that a stray or ricocheting bullet would set off my grenade cache at that position. It was a stupid mistake not to move them farther from the opening. C'est la guerre. No plan survives the first 30 seconds of contact with the enemy. The good news was that while they were busy shooting at where I wasn't, I was able to arm another grenade and throw it onto the cupola of the trailing vehicle just as the first grenade exploded. Beautiful. I love it when a plan comes together, I thought. There was a good spot to throw grenades to destroy the other stranded tanks, so I decided now was the time to use the rocket launcher. 

I loaded the launcher and moved down a few floors. Given that my targets were stuck now, I could take my time in finding a good spot to take my shot. Assuming the tanks had crews, I figured the survivors would all be abandoning their vehicles and trying to escape. A few floors down, I found a suitable window and took aim. The rocket took off with a satisfying WOOSH and I immediately dove for cover. I repeated this action on the two remaining vehicles and thus exhausted my rocket ammo. Good riddance. That launcher was heavy as hell in normal gravity. I figured by this point I'd done enough for the cause, and it was time for a little rest. Using the control panel on my right arm, I gave myself a boost of nutrients and stimulants. My water IV was mostly full, so I let that run a little even though it meant I need to take a leak in the near future. Oh well, my own waste was the least of my problems at this point.   

If the enemy attacked my position again, which was likely, they'd attack in greater numbers and destroy the building from a distance. Thus, I had to move. I gathered my grenades and the rocket launcher and moved to the shorter building across the street. Even though the rocket launcher was useless for the time being, I kept it anyway in case I somehow got more ammo for it. Also, I pretty sure I'd get punished if I abandoned an expensive and functional weapon simply because I didn't feel like lugging it around. In retrospect, I really wish they'd just given us a grenade launcher and skipped the rockets. That would have simplified things. In a way, it was nice to know that an interstellar empire could still make boneheaded tactical mistakes like that. Nobody's perfect, no matter where you go in the universe. I made up my mind that I wasn't going to go back for ammo at the LZ until I ran out where I was. As it stood, I had 25 grenades left, and I wasn't sure how I'd use the rest of them.  

My mind would have been so much more at ease had I known 142 was nearby. Instead, most likely, it was fighting its own isolated battle, along with all the others. It made sense for us to split up the way we did, yet it dampened our morale. As it got dark, it became harder to see much of anything. It was against our implicit orders to return to the landing zone, but I decided to make the trek anyway. Distances always seem much longer in the night. As I gazed over the cityscape, the plumes of dozens of fires belched black smoke into the sky. We had hit the enemy hard at least, but at what cost? When I reached the landing zone, to my surprise and relief, there were dozens of jetpack type devices lying about. There were also many crates of extra rockets and grenades. Now this would make finishing off the remaining enemy easy work. It was dangerous to fly at night for various reasons, not the least of which was that flames from the exhaust would make me an easy target against the night sky. 

There must be something about high gravity planets that affects the weather. The sky was mostly overcast with a few stars and moons shining through here and there. Near the ground, a thick fog a few meters thick slowly slid across the ground. I made a few short flights to get the hang of the device. During some down time, we'd watched a training video on how to use the jetpack. It seemed self-explanatory, though the high gravity meant that I'd need to land carefully to avoid injury. At that point, I just wanted to finish the job, get off that awful rock, and have a nice shower. It's always the little things that make bad situations bearable. A little respite here and there goes a long way. I couldn't wait to be back aboard our ship with my partner and enjoying a nice hot meal all the other amenities on board. They were spartan accommodations, yet so much better than being stuck in the midst of a warzone. 

I really hoped 142 and I would survive the battle unscathed, but at that point there was no way of knowing. The enemy is always smarter than you think, and I dreaded whatever hostile surprises laid in store. It was one of those times when a stoic detachment was the only way to stay sane. 

Hired Raygun - part 5

We landed on the resort world, which reminded me of pictures I'd seen of Hawaii, except the colors were all different. The sand was pink, the sky purple, and the ocean was orange. Oddly enough, the atmosphere and other conditions were earthlike enough that I didn't need a spacesuit, nor did my companion. 142 came from a hardier race able to survive in a wide range of conditions. It told me that the planet was somewhat similar to its home world, which was covered in a shallow sea filled with archipelagos. One of the first things I noticed is we didn't have to pay for anything. The locals freely offered us food, drink, and trinkets. I guessed it was a tributary world or protectorate of whatever empire we were fighting for. It made sense that they didn't pay us until our discharge. Giving us any kind of money would reduce the leverage they had over us as well as making it harder for us to escape from them.

The ocean was pleasant enough to swim in. It seemed to be water, but whatever it was, it was safe for humans. I suspected some sort of dissolved mineral accounted for the odd color. It reminded me a bit of a hot spring, except the gentle breeze created mild waves like on a gulf coast. Overall, it was an idyllic place that I gladly could have stayed for months if not for the memories of family and home gnawing at me. The locals, while friendly, were a most bizarre species. As far as I could tell, they were telepathic shapeshifters. Depending on which of us was interacting with them, they would morph so as to resemble me or 142. One of them morphed into a very good imitation of a woman I'd been fantasizing about and beckoned me to follow it into a hut. I admit to being a bit curious, but in the end, I confess no desire to explore whatever strange new world was between the legs it had just grown. 

The creatures had trouble keeping the same shape for more than a few minutes. It was as though it required effort, like holding your breath, and whatever organs were involved had a limited capacity. Their default shape reminded me of an amoeba, and they were about the size of a large tire. Such creatures could be valuable as spies, and I began to wonder if that was the reason their planet had been conquered. Otherwise, their biology and anatomy greatly limited their military value. It seemed likely that whatever envoys had been sent them in the past merely presented them with an ultimatum that they must serve the empire or be annihilated. It was an uncomfortable realization that my employers essentially depended on various forms of slavery to keep their empire going. At least I was lucky enough to be an indentured servant rather than a chattel slave, but I wasn't going to get paid until my discharge, and I had no idea how many years away that was.

I tried to relax and enjoy the unusual luxuries. The food was much better than my usual rations, and the scenery far nicer than the interior of the cramped ship I had spent so many months in. I'd given up on keeping track of the time not long after a boarded the ship. The only thing that really mattered was how many years would go by on earth until my return. To pass the time, when I got tired of the beach, I hiked in the hills and forests around the resort and strolled through the local village. The amoeba people were industrious, and it was interesting to watch them shapeshift into various forms depending on whatever task they were doing. They were particularly adept at stretching themselves out in order to pick fruit from what looked to be trees. On the whole, a peaceful and helpful race. I felt sorry for their predicament as the unpaid servants of whatever mercenaries the empire dumped on their world to look after. 

Our vacation ended without fanfare. When our ship landed and the ramp was lowered, that was our cue to board immediately and leave. I was pleased that I was able to take many photographs of the place and collected a small assortment of baubles that I hoped to bring home as gifts. I was fairly sure that if my memory was wiped or if I got killed, my camera and other personal possessions would be returned to my next of kin. It comforted me that whatever happened next, there was some record of what I had experienced and where I'd been. My companion had likewise collected a few souvenirs. It implied it had made first contact, so to say, with a shapeshifter that impersonated the other gender of its kind. 142 was certainly more adventurous than me. We had spent so much time together and yet I still didn't know whether it was male, female, or whether such terms were even applicable to its species. It was all irrelevant anyway, as the only real rule we had was to look out for each other. 

Sometime later, perhaps a few days, we landed on the planet with the weapons range. It was every bit as harsh and desolate as the resort planet had been lush and pleasant. Dunes of ash gray sand stretched in every direction except for a few large rock outcroppings sporadically dotting the landscape. We were back to wearing our bulky spacesuits as the ambient temperature varied from well below freezing at night to boiling hot during the day. The planet was baked by a trio of red giants whose shapes dominated the daytime sky. As for the weapons range itself, it was located in a rocky field bordered on three sides by cliffs. There were shot up mechanical hulks of various sizes littering the field. Some were larger than any machine I'd ever seen, which made me nervous about whatever enemies we'd be fighting next. This feeling got worse when the teaching droids introduced us to the larger weapons in the arsenal.

     

They handed me some kind of shoulder-fired weapon and indicated that I fire at one of the larger piles of wreckage a few hundred meters away. When I shot, a projectile like a rocket zoomed out and caused a massive explosion when it hit. It looked like a mushroom cloud from a nuclear blast except much smaller. I doubt it was actually a nuclear weapon as our masters were likely vulnerable to radiation poisoning too and didn't want to turn planets into wastelands if they could avoid it. If I had to guess, it was some kind of thermobaric weapon, just much more powerful. I'd heard such devices described as rocket-propelled flamethrowers. The thought of nuclear weapons got me wondering if the empire had ever used them. If they had faster than light travel, then surely, they had atomic bombs and such. Perhaps, just as on earth, there was a kind of stalemate brought on by the threat of mutual assured destruction. 

The next weapon was similar to a hand grenade, except it stuck to surfaces and so could also be used for demolition. It exuded colored smoke which slowly turned from blue to red. It was a convenient way of letting the user know how much time was left until it exploded. They could be thrown or launched from a bazooka-type device. Its blast was immensely powerful, and I was no longer concerned about going up against armored vehicles so long as I had such explosives. I remembered reading about something called an ampule gun. It was used in one of the big wars on earth hundreds of years ago. Basically, it shot a glass bulb full of flaming liquid. It was used against vehicles and area targets. That's what the alien grenades reminded me of. 

So yeah, 142 and I played around some more with the new bang-bang toys for the next few hours. After that, instead of returning to the ship, they told us to bivouac in the wreckage. I guess it was psychological conditioning of some sort. Some of the hulks in the distance were still burning from what we'd shot at them. It was going to be a long night. We didn't have to, but decided to take turns sleeping in shifts, since that's probably what we'd need to do in the real thing. I remember nudging 142 awake. I tried to be gentle, but the guy was a heavy sleeper. When it was my turn, it threw a rock at my leg to wake me up. I didn't blame it for getting rough. Our lives were in each other's hands. Because we were both stuck in our suits for more than a few hours, I and I presume it, had to answer the call of nature several times. This is the sort of thing you don't learn about in war movies or comic books. Sitting in your filth and waiting for the sun to come up.

In this case, we had to wait for all three suns to come up, which took a lot longer than I expected. The ship landed, the gangplank extended, and we trudged aboard. I signaled that 142 could disrobe and shower first. A few more minutes in my soiled power armor wasn't going to kill me. Then it was my turn, and man did that shower feel good. Any fool who blabs about the glory of battle has never felt his pelvis drenched in his own human waste. At least the rations we got afterwards were better than usual. I ate with 142 on purpose as a show of solidarity. We offered each other bites of our rations. Later, for the sake of honesty and comradery, I mentioned that before I did not eat with it because it made annoying sounds while it ate. 142 replied that likewise, I had made disturbing sounds while I ate. Having reached this new and refreshing understanding, we resolved to eat alone from then on.  

Like I said before, it's hard to explain exactly what we said to each other because it was all through pantomime and showing each other pictures on our wrist screens. Even so, for what mattered, our communication was clear enough. I pondered how many times in history where the language barrier had only been partially breached, and yet that was enough to enable all kinds of expeditions and other cross-cultural cooperation. In the late Roman Empire, many of its soldiers either didn't speak Latin at all or only as a second language. The French Foreign Legion all learned French as a foreign language. What I found in my interactions with various aliens was that the most important thing was the desire to understand and be understood. Mutual respect was always the key. 

We had some more downtime before the next mission, but there were many more briefings. It was hard not to get rattled. It was hard to understand who exactly we were up against next, but they certainly were no pushovers. As far as I could tell, they were a mechanical race who originated on a high-gravity planet. Consequently, their war machines were as big and tough as they come. No wonder we'd gotten training on heavy weapons. I wish I could have written a letter home because I had serious doubts about my survival. The both of us spent more time at the ship's range with the lighter weapons, though this was mainly to boost our own morale. We were definitely going to die if we couldn't figure out a way to use the heavy weapons to the greatest advantage against our colossal foes. 

Once more, I asked 142 to join it in prayer. I did my best to explain that I was not religious myself but felt it best to pray anyway. There are no atheists in foxholes, no matter what planet they're on, I guess.  

Hired Raygun - part 4

I piled regolith over the rest of the shallow grave to make a small mound. As there was no wind, precipitation, or wildlife here, I suspected it'd serve as a clear marker until the time the dead alien's comrades came inspect the damage and gather their dead. Just to be sure, I fired bursts into the backs of both sentry guns. They had probably gone offline anyway when the reactor exploded. I wasn't sure how long it'd take for enemy reinforcements to show up, but I'd already wasted too much precious time burying the corpse. What can I say except that it seemed like the decent thing to do. I had no idea how the firefight on the other side of the base was going, though since it was just droid on droid, I presumed they would duke it out until only one of them was left standing. I bounded through the boulder field where 142 had been doing overwatch for me.

When we rejoined, I could see a puzzled look in his eyes, as if it was wondering why a carried that corpse out of the base and buried it. I did my best to mimic the prayer gesture I once saw 142 make, and it seemed instantly understand my intent in that action. I hadn't heard anymore explosions for a while, so rather than call for evac, I suggested via hand signs that we do what we could to help out our droid allies. We approached the ruins of the base and 142 signaled he'd find some cover and do some sniping. My cloaking device still had some power left, so I figured now it was my time to act as a diversion. The smoldering ruins of the base added some ambient light, and that made it harder to hide. Often in conditions like these, it's hard to distinguish friend from foe. The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for a friendly fire incident.  

In this case it was a little easier. I knew the enemy was immediately in front of me, and when the fired, they revealed their positions. The light from the discharge of their weapons was dimmer as most of it was blocked by their bodies. The weapons our reinforcements off in the distance had somewhat brighter muzzle flashes. Whenever I saw a dim flash of light, I fired a burst in that direction and immediately bounded a few meters left or right. I tried to make the distance and direction random so I'd be a harder target. As the enemy fell one by one, more fire concentrated on those that remained. When the last one was eliminated, the fire quickly tapered off. 142 signaled me with his laser pointer, and we moved in to inspect the wreckage. Our droid reinforcements did likewise. It had been in a tough fight, and only half a dozen of them were left standing. All of them had been hit, but the damage was not critical. 

One of them was intently surveying the scene, I presume to make an after-action report. I helped gather enemy weapons from others. It seemed they wished to scavenge equipment from the enemy. Some of the wrecked droids, both friendly and enemy were deemed salvageable, so we gathered those as well. I was left wondering how many times the same droid had been shot up and repaired, or how many times the same metal had been melted down and recycled into a new droid. Given the pains they took to scavenge wreckage, the war must have been going on for a very long time. A friendly dropship touched down nearby not long after. After loading it with the captured loot, the droids motioned us aboard and we took off. It was a short ride before we got transferred to our regular ship. After removing our spacesuits and stowing our gear, we were directed to the theater.

The hologram projector showed us the after-action report for the mission. It was all pictures, but easy enough to understand. A star map displayed all the known locations of similar facilities throughout the galaxy. There looked to be about a dozen. The one we just blew up had a big red X stamped on it while an explosion sound effect played. It was good to know we were making a difference. The droid losses were about even, 20 or so for both sides, but the scrap salvaged made up for it slightly. 142 was the hero of the battle and had racked up most of the kills. It turned out to have a real talent with the x-ray vision sniper rifle. It felt good to have a skilled warrior as my partner. Perhaps once we had done enough damage, they'd let us go home. That seemed to be the implication of the report: fight hard and destroy enough, and you'll get to go home. It was a glimmer of hope that would sustain me for a long time. 

Our next stop would be on a barren desert planet. We were set to get demolitions and heavy weapons training. Though exciting and relatively safe, it could only mean the next mission would be that much more dangerous. It wouldn't be just the two of us at the range either. The photos of the other trainees were displayed. It was quite a rogue's gallery. We were all different species and I looked to be the only mammal among them. The roster was heavily with reptilians and insectoids, though one or two looked to be avian or fungoid. But before all that, it looked like we'd earned some vacation time, and would be spending a few days on a lush planet with a beach. At that, we returned to our cabin to bathe, eat, and sleep.   

Later, I took the alien name tag to the theater and held it in front of what I figured was a camera. I figured it was worth a shot to see if the computer would tell me anything about it. Sure enough, info about it popped up on various screens. I couldn't read any of the text, but from the pictures, I could see the location of the alien's home planet and the various star systems they controlled. It also displayed some images and videos pertaining to their culture and technology. I was able to gather they were allied with a consortium of other races who were also seeking to maintain and expand their influence. We never ended up getting much training in either the spoken or written language of our masters, and I suspect that was intentional. Aside from the difficulties of translation and language instruction, they only wanted us to know just enough to obey their orders.

At least I got some answers, though I still felt guilty about killing an unarmed creature I bumped into at random, even it was in the midst of a life-or-death struggle. I began to wonder why our masters relied on mercenaries and droids rather than fighting themselves. I suppose it was for similar reasons so many humans have supported and fomented wars while do everything they could to avoid combat themselves. I never had much respect for people who said in effect "hey, let's you and him fight", yet that faction is numerous and has a long history. Thinking back to what I knew of military history, soldiers frequently went to war for dubious reasons while under questionable leadership and being mostly ignorant of both the strategy, goals, and causes of the war. That was certainly the case in the First World War, which was the result of an assassination and a set of alliances. 

In a larger sense, it didn't matter who we were fighting and why, how long it would take, and so on. My goal was to survive. Helping my partner survive was the most logical course of action. We spent many more hours teasing bits of information out of each other. It would take far too long to recap our conversations since we spent most of the time trying to figure out what the other was saying. Gradually, through pantomime and other visual aids, we were able to share basic information on our cultures, planets, families, and ourselves. Of course, we had no way of knowing how much we truly understood of each other, but at least it was a start. Something is always better than nothing when it comes to knowledge and rapport. We even tried each other's rations a few times despite concerns about poisoning and being reprimanded. 142's food was better than I expected and didn't make me sick. Otherwise, I vastly preferred the rations made specifically for me, despite their odd appearance.

We spoke at length about what we'd do when we got back to our homes. It turned out our backgrounds were essentially the same in that we came from desperately poor families where one child was expected to take a gamble in order to benefit the rest. We agreed that this was an honorable and sensible thing to do. It seemed taking one for the team was a value our cultures had in common. Once I asked 142 what it would have done had it been assigned by our masters to a platoon of its own kind. It said they'd organize a rebellion, steal weapons, commandeer a ship, and head for home. I replied that I'd have done the same thing and added this was certainly part of the reason why our masters deliberately kept us isolated from our owe kind and also in pairs rather than larger groups. It wouldn't have surprised me in the slightest if there had been rebellion and escape attempts already. 

It was all starting to make sense in an odd way. Our masters avoided teaching us their written language so we couldn't pilot the ship if we mutinied and took control of it. They used mercenaries and droids for their wars because too few of them were willing to take the risk. That implied they lived relatively safe, prosperous lives compared to the mercenaries they recruited. Most wars on earth were over the control of land and resources, so I assumed it was the same on the interstellar level. I began to wonder if that was true. If our masters and presumably their opponents were already safe and prosperous, why fight? Was there some greater ideological or religious war going on? Was it just a matter of status and bragging rights? The Scramble for Africa in the 19th century was mostly the result of different European countries competing for prestige. Colonialism in general turned out to be more trouble than it was worth. 

Another possibility was that war was bedrock of their economy, and thus constant war was a necessity. In the Roman Empire, the Gates of Janus temple doors were kept open during times of war so people could pray for victory. Since there was almost always a war going on, the temple doors rarely closed. There was a stretch where they stayed open for 400 years. Any civilization that has an excess of labor and wealth is going to plow it into some grand project. The most popular choices have been monuments and war. While conquest has diminishing returns as weapons become more expensive, the political benefits of a successful war make it a sensible choice for ambitious politicians. It reminded me of the Falklands War where Argentina went to war with Britain over an utterly insignificant island. The ruling junta thought it would score a quick and easy victory that would distract Argentina's population from domestic crises and boost patriotism. Instead, it was an expensive and embarrassing rout, though costly for the British as well. Indeed, the cost of the war for both sides outweighed any possible economic benefit.

So perhaps that was our situation. We'd unwittingly signed up for the interstellar equivalent of a forever war every bit as absurd as a pie-eating contest. In that case, my mottoes were "bon appetit" and "laissez le bon temps roulez".    

Absurd Online Dating Profile - Unreasonable Standards

 

Perhaps she's joking. At least I hope she is.  

Hired Raygun - part 3

When there were only a few hours to spare, we suited up, took weapons, and waited for the final minutes in the airlock. At last, we touched down, and the hatch opened. It was a bit of a shock to be subjected to even minor lunar gravity after so many subjective months of weightlessness. 142 went down the ladder ahead of me. It was good its suit had an extra sleeve to accommodate its prehensile tail. How annoying it would be to be forced to coil it up inside a suit meant for a tailless quadruped. 

I descended the ladder and began moving toward the objective. As we were on the light side, it was easy enough to see. In the low gravity, it has easy enough to hop away so that we were away from the blast radius of the ship's engines as it took off. 

We both turned to watch it launch back into the black starlit sky. Its engines burned silently and released a massive gush of orange flame. The first part of the journey was easy enough, as the landscape was mostly flat with a few small hills and craters here and there. Off in the distance, a foreboding mountain range loomed. Not sure how we'd get over that. As we passed into the foothills, I began to scan for the easiest route of ascent. I had climbed a few mountains before back on earth, but this was something different entirely. Huge, jagged peaks stretched across the horizon as far as the eye could see. The indicator light in our helmets pointed the way, yet this gave us no clues about how to surmount the obstacles in our path.

We scrambled up a treacherous scree. There was going to be a lot of hands and feet climbing for a while. It became clear why we had been landed on this side. No enemy would expect an attack from this direction given the difficulty of the terrain. Who dares wins. I remembered reading that from a old military history book. It was the motto of an elite force from some ancient civilization. As I scaled the cliff, I pondered how the basics of war never change. It all boils down to young men willing to risk death. Close with the enemy and kill them. All the other circumstances are just minor details. We scaled the first cliff and surveyed the plateau we had just reached. There wasn't an obvious right way to go, so we just followed direct path as given by the indicator light in our helmets.

I began to wonder how the indicator light worked. Perhaps the target had been marked with some sort of beacon? It didn't really matter. There is a story I like from Buddhism called the parable of the arrow. In it, a warrior is struck by an arrow during a battle. A doctor comes to help him, and the stricken warrior begins asking questions like: what kind of arrow is it? where was it fired from? who might have fired it? And so on. Buddha said asking questions like that is just as useless as asking where the universe came from or what happens after death. That is, even if you knew the answers, you'd still be stuck with the exact same problems. The only knowledge that is really useful is the kind that helps you overcome whatever obstacles you are facing at the moment. 

We trudged onward and came to a wide chasm. It was a good thing we both took the multitool with the harpoon attachment. The harpoon was magnetic, but also had a traditional barb. Not sure what metal it was made out of, but it penetrated the moon rock easily. I aimed for a ledge across the chasm and fired. There was a satisfying cloud of regolith from where the harpoon hit. I walked slowly toward the edge of the cliff, took a deep breath, and swung off. In the lower gravity, the speed was much slower, yet it was still a surreal experience, like falling off a cliff underwater. The sensation was like the feeling just as a descending elevator stops, yet it lasted for several minutes. I put out my legs to cushion my fall against the rock face and activated the winch. Every so slowly, I was drawn up the cliff face. I tried not to look down, yet the urge was irresistible. A terrible inky blackness lay below. Being stuck down there would be about as isolated as anything could be.  

After my successful ascent, 142 made his maneuver and joined me on the ledge. We pressed on through the boulders along a narrow path. At its end, a large crater lay before us. Going around it would waste too much precious time, so we cautiously descended into it. There was something peaceful about its flat bottom. I looked up briefly to marvel at all the strange constellations. You've never really seen the stars until you've seen them from an isolated, airless moon deep in outer space. Whatever. No time for sentimentality. We had a mission, and it was either them or us. Another hard climb to get out of the crater. We pulled ourselves up and saw almost nothing but a faint light on the horizon. We were now on the dark side, and any light we used would only serve as a bullseye for the enemy. The ground was easier at this point. Just a few regolith dunes here and there and some small craters.   

The light grew brighter and more distinct. Various structures became apparent, including some domes, a comm tower, and a huge satellite dish. It made sense that such a remote outpost would be manned by droids as the environment was so hostile to life. We'd agreed beforehand to maintain radio silence as we didn't know what kind of scanners the enemy had. On the ship, we'd flipped a coin to see who'd go infiltrate the base. I lost, so 142 gave me the charge from its cloaking device. The double charge would even the odds a lot. My loadout was the ray pistol and submachine gun I'd practiced with at the weapons range. 142 had the x-ray rifle. There was a boulder field some distance away, and it went to take up an overwatch position there. At this point, we were about 500 meters from the base. That was too close for comfort, but the darkness gave us some security.   

OK, time to low crawl. I made my way to a crater a few meters deep. I had some enhanced optics in my helmet, and I used them to peer over the rim. There was a pair of what I guessed were sentry guns scanning the perimeter. Hopefully they didn't have thermal or radar sights otherwise my cloaking device was useless. When I saw a good piece of cover about 100 meters away, I engaged the cloaking device and sprinted for it. Or rather, I hopped as fast as I could with my legs outstretched. Once I was set, I turned off the cloak and used a laser pointer in my gauntlet to signal to 142. I knew he would not reply, but just the same, it gave me confidence. This time just flashed the laser once. Once I was ready for the assault, I'd flash it twice. I was hiding by a gap in the perimeter wall. The sentry guns were behind me and continued to mindlessly sweep the area in front of them. 

I picked up a pebble and threw it at the gap to see if it bounced off a force field. Nope. The way was clear. I engaged the cloaking device again and peeked around the corner. I saw a droid guard put its palm up to a sensor, and this act caused an airlock to open. Not sure why base with just droids would have airlocks. That implied there were lifeforms which required an atmosphere inside the base. Military intel isn't always wrong, but it is always incomplete. Even so, the basic objective remained. Somehow, I had to get inside, find the reactor, and either disable or destroy it. After thinking it over for a few minutes, I decided my best course of action was to signal 142 so the diversionary attack could begin. Then, in the chaos, I'd cloak, grab a guard's hand, and use it to enter the base.

I turned and flashed my laser twice in my partner's direction. Then I peeked around the corner again and waited for the guards to react. After about 30 seconds, I saw a pair of guards start to move when one motioned the other to stay put. Jackpot. I cloaked and bounded toward him. Fortunately for me, he was close to the access panel, and it hardly resisted as I yanked its hand to the sensor to open the airlock. I rushed inside and turned off the cloak just after the outer door closed. I was certain the guard ignored the event as a random glitch. After a moment, the inner door opened, and I made for a stairwell. I figured it would lead to an observation tower, and that would give me a vantage point for both observing the diversionary attack and getting an idea of where the reactor might be.

Sure enough, off in the distance, I could see the muzzle flashes and plasma bolts of a lunar firefight. From what I could tell, it was an even match, and neither side would either advance or retreat for a while. Our reinforcements had managed to disable the sentry guns on the other side of the base. The destroyed hulks glowed orange and sporadically spurted sparks and neon blue plasma. I presumed also that a majority of the garrison had left to counter the diversionary attack, so I was more or less free to explore the base. I figured the reactor would be near the antenna as it would require enormous power to broadcast across interstellar distances. I returned to the ground floor and headed for it. Along the way, I bumped into a creature that was exiting an adjacent corridor. I fell down and immediately fired a burst at it. Whatever it was, it was now dead and charred beyond recognition. I felt a twinge of guilt. On its purple coverall uniform were various medals I presume to show rank and organization as well what could have only been a name tag. I swiped the name tag and took a picture of the corpse with my tablet device. 

I had a hunch he was the reactor operator, as whoever owned this base would prefer a sentient lifeform over a droid to run the most expensive equipment. It was becoming increasingly clear that in a universe where everyone was expendable, droids were the most expendable of all. I came to a large room with a control panel and a device that looked like the reactor aboard the ship. If it wasn't this, it was their fault for not giving me more intel so I could blow up the right thing. I backed up from the control panel and fired a burst across its length. It sparked and flamed as warning lights flashed and alarms blared. I fired a shorter burst into reactor vessel before turning and bounding as fast as I could back the way I came. After a few seconds, an explosion shook the building. As I passed the creature I'd slain earlier, I felt compelled to take it with me. 

I came out the airlock and made my way back to the gap in the perimeter wall. There, I let down the corpse, and pawed a shallow grave into the regolith as the ground shook with more explosions. It's hard to explain exactly why I dug the grave. I felt sorry for it, because whatever it was, it was an intelligent being that most likely did not deserve to die. Its body would surely have been disintegrated by the explosions now rocking the base, but at least this way, its comrades would hopefully find its remains so they could have a proper funeral. So many questions were swirling in my mind. First and foremost was: who are we fighting and why? 

Hired Raygun - part 2

I put my eye up to its scope and put the crosshairs on the target. The image was very strange, almost like something from infrared or night vision. The picture in the scope went out. I thought I had accidentally turned it off somehow. I took my eye away and looked in the direction of the target. There was now a large metal barrier in front of it. How strange. I put my eye back to the scope and to my surprise, found the target again. So that's the special trick of this gun: the scope can see through solid objects. That should come in handy. I squeezed the trigger and heard the electric howl. I felt a heat flash from the energy blast which briefly warmed my face and chest. With the naked eye, I examined the metal barrier. Orange molten metal was leaking down a hole the size of a golf ball. 

I handed the weapon 142 so it could practice and turned my attention to the weapons rack. There was something about the size of submachine gun in the shape of a seashell. I took it and went to an open lane. There was a selector switch, or so it looked, on the right side of it near the trigger. I took aim and fired, but nothing happened, so I clicked the switch down a notch and tried again. Success! A satisfying pew! for each trigger pull. So that mode was semiautomatic fire. I clicked the switch down another notch. I took aim and held the trigger down as it sprayed neon blue electric death. It had a tremendous rate of fire and no recoil. However, I saw that it could not penetrate solid metal the way the x-ray rifle could. When it ran out of ammo, a pillar came out of floor and released some more of the mercury-like substance. The gun automatically sucked it in with a ringing sound. Given its capacity and rate of fire, I decided that this would be my primary weapon. 

Also on the rack were pistols similar to the submachine gun and a device about the length of a forearm with various attachments. I strapped it to my right forearm and played with the controls. There was a plasma cutter with a range of a few meters, a magnetic harpoon, and a large retractable blade. It was the blade that most intrigued me. Whatever enemy I ended up against, it was more than likely they breathed some kind of gas and wore spacesuits. Thus, if I wanted to conserve ammo, I could sneak up on them and use the blade to cut their breathing hoses. And of course, blades are much quieter than guns, and I expected to being fighting in atmospheric environments with sound at some point.      

Where were the shoulder-fired weapons and grenades? I didn't see any displayed, but presumed they had them. Near the weapons rack, there was a touchscreen. I scrolled through it and saw pictures of both the weapons on the rack plus some I'd never seen before. I suspected we weren't going to trusted with more powerful and expensive weapons until we'd proven our worth. A bit disappointing, but understandable. A siren blared briefly, and the usual instruction lights beckoned us back to our cabin. It must have been lunchtime. The dispenser gave me a big, crunchy green stick of something and a foil beverage pouch. Despite the alien appearance, the taste was excellent and left me with an odd sense of satisfaction and inner peace. It seemed likely both of us were going to get pumped full of whatever drugs our masters thought would help keep us obedient and alive. 

I must admit the sounds 142 made while it ate were disturbing, so I did my best to politely excuse myself. I went into the room adjoining the cabin and closed the hatch behind me. It appeared to be a bathroom of sorts, but there were many appliances I didn't recognize. I found a kind of scented towel dispenser. I stripped and used a few to bathe. I felt so much cleaner afterward. There was a receptacle with only one conceivable purpose based on its shape and location, so I used it to answer the call of nature. As this did not result in any alarms or lights, I figured I had done the right thing. I went through another hatch and found a mini gym with an exercise bike and elastic bands attached to the floor and walls. It all made sense. With no gravity, we'd both need a lot of strength training to maintain our muscles and bones. There were places to strap my feet to the ground near the elastic bands, and so I was able to do exercises like squats and deadlifts. With enough creativity and practice, I was sure I'd find other exercises. 

It occurred to me that I ought to spend more time building rapport with 142. After all, we would depend on each other in battle, and we had barely introduced ourselves. I returned to the cabin to see it kneeling in what I presumed was prayer. I was never very religious myself, though I had studied the holy books of various faiths simply out of curiosity. When it had finished its ritual, I pointed at my wrist screen to signal I wanted to talk. We had much work to do to build up a common language. First, I figured we should agree upon some basic tactical commands like "go left/right", "come here", "stay put", "advance", "retreat", and so on. It was a painstaking process, but in the end, we were better off for it. 

I wondered where we were at the moment. I hadn't even explored the ship fully. 142 motioned me to follow and led me into a room with various screens. On the largest screen, I saw a symbol for what I presumed was our ship. There was a dotted line extending back to earth, but I had to zoom out to see the whole path. I zoomed out some more and saw a few of the other planets the ship had landed on. Now I wanted to know where we were headed, so scrolled in the direction of travel. It appeared we were a long way off from whatever planet or moon we were headed to next. That was a relief. More time to prepare.   

The strategy of our masters was a mystery, which I presume was intentional. I remember once reading an article about the unusually strong cohesion of German units in both world wars. Unlike other countries, the Germans tried to keep men from the same regions and towns together. It was common for a platoon to all be from the same village. Even though the Germans were outnumbered in both wars, they fought in good order until the day of surrender. It was very rare for a unit to collapse into a rout. Perhaps there was a similar logic at work with me and my companion. By sending out a closely bonded pair who depended on each other for their lives, the odds of success in battle were higher. Long odds make for bold hearts. When Cortes arrived in South America, he ordered his men to burn the ships, so they would have no way to retreat if they lost the battle. Their only choices were conquer or die.  

Some time later, we were directed to another part of the ship. It was crammed with various equipment, and the most prominent were the suits of power armor. The process of donning them was done automatically. All we had to do was lie down on a table and hold still as various robotic arms attached each piece. I was surprised at how quickly it finished. I sat up on the table and moved to stand on the floor. My main concern was the amount of dexterity I'd have with the metal gauntlets on my hands. After a few experiments picking up and manipulating some small objects in the room, I was satisfied I'd be able to move freely in combat. An image was displayed in my helmet. One symbol indicated the direction of 142 and the other was some kind of countdown timer, which I presume indicated how long I could stay in the suit until the air or power ran out. Fortunately, from what I knew of the alien number system, a full-charged suit could stay operational for hundreds of hours at a time. 

After our introduction to power armor, we were directed to a small theater, which I guessed was a briefing room of sorts. The hologram projector showed us a our destination which we were still a few weeks from. It was in a binary star system with just one gas giant planet. Orbiting the planet was a single moon that was similar to earth's. The moon was the location of some kind of enemy facility. We were shown pictures of a large tower and satellite dish. My guess is the base was a communication relay station. While it was not heavily guarded, it had numerous automatic defenses that we would either need to bypass or destroy in order to disable the comm link. The projector indicated a device inside which might have been a reactor or power plant. If we could sneak in and disable that, we'd accomplish our mission with minimal risk. 

Then we were shown pictures of the enemy at last. They appeared to be robots of various sizes and shapes. The larger ones were heavily armed and all of them had weapons of some sort. It was at this moment I wondered just how badly outnumbered we were in general, and this is why our masters only sent out pairs. Perhaps at some point, 142 and I would fight as part of a larger unit. In any case, it was critical that we develop a good understanding of each other as our survival depended on it. We retired to the cabin, and were both eager to strike up a conversation. There was a computer in the cabin that could be used for drawing pictures, and so we took turns making various movement diagrams over a map of the objective. The enemy base was on the dark side of moon, so we'd certainly get dropped off on the light side to maintain the element of surprise. Whatever landing method we used was sure to attract attention if it was seen in the dark. 

Given the distance we had travelled, our speed had been inconsistent. There had been several intervals where we had moved relatively slowly, and those were interspersed with jumps whereby we had crossed vast distances. I found what I suspected was the engine room, but aside from identifying what I guessed was a nuclear reactor, I had no idea how the ship travelled. When I was in school, I remember being taught about the theoretical possibility of wormholes which would allow faster than light travel. No proof had ever been found of them though, at least by human scientists. It was an odd sensation to be constantly filled with fear and wonder.  

I found a new mode on my communicator which allowed me to send and receive messages from my partner. We spent a few hours practicing with that as well as shooting while suited up. Our confidence was pretty decent now, and it seemed somehow our masters perceived it. When I checked the star map again, it indicated that we would be reaching our destination in a few hours of our subjective time. For me, this was proof that we had indeed been traveling faster than light somehow, otherwise the time dilation effects would have made it impossible to synchronize any sort of plan.  

We returned to the hologram theater for our final briefing. It instructed us that the ship would land close to the boundary between the light and dark side, and that we'd need to advance on foot over a few dozen kilometers of rough terrain that included craters and mountains. It would be a challenge to cross such rough ground in the dark, and yet we'd need to be very careful about using any kind of artificial light source. The good news is that we wouldn't be alone during the assault. Once we were close enough, another ship would land and another force of half a dozen battle droids would launch a diversionary attack. To great relief, we were also going to be given cloaking devices to help us infiltrate the base more easily. The downside was the cloaking device could only be used for a few minutes total.