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[dyinghorizons-blog]

So about your family II - Innocent

Hey folks, figures I’d write this up and try to maybe make a little series out of it. Let me know what you think, good bad or ugly. Have at it.

——————

“You did what!?” Sendric exclaimed.

“We took a sample of his blood you collected and ran it through the GCSS medical database. There was a DNA match, so we did a data crawl on all information relating to that individual and took a chance,” Jack stated. “While he may look different, you can’t change your DNA. Hell, if he had fingerprints we would have examined those too, just to verify -“

“YOU CAN NOT DO THAT!” Sendric was furious. “DNA is the sole property of the individual, and under Directive 103.3 is -“

“You don’t do DNA matches because you feel they intrude on people’s privacy. Which is extremely shortsighted, and frankly my superiors and I are at a loss as to why you still refuse to use these types of measures when faced with terrorism on this scale. Additionally,” Jack continued, halting another interruption, “Humans are not a member of the GCSS, and therefore not under any obligation to follow your directives. We saw that you were having a problem similar to what we had decades ago. We offered to help. You accepted. So, if you want our continued assistance, maybe you should begin considering some methods you may find reprehensible are necessary.”

Sendric fumed. The audacity of this newcomer to the galactic stage was infuriating. Terrorist or not, privacy or not, there were strict laws governing the use of DNA. Namely that it should not be used. What if people started to alter DNA or program it?

“So how did you get the records anyway? That information is on a secure database. Not even I have access to that.”

“Secure? My understanding is it took less than 15 minutes for our hackers to break in, get the information, and get out,” Jack said simply.

“You broke in!? This is getting worse and worse...” Sendric was starting to get a headache. “Do you know how much trouble you and your organization is going to be in?”

“Not much. Legally we aren’t bound to follow your laws, you have nothing but my word that your systems were hacked, and in short order we will have all the information needed to start dismantling this terrorist organization for you. I think your superiors will gloss over some minor indiscretions.”

“You know what? Fine. But I’m making this a matter of official record. When the public hears about this, it’s going to be your head on the plate,” Sendric said. Maybe that will make the human work within the parameters of the law. Jack just shrugged and left, presumably to go back to terrorizing the detainee.

Spies. Criminals with a government paycheck. Sendric had heard that somewhere. He detested them. They listened to no one but their own consciousness and that was often times nonexistent.

He took a breath, turned to his terminal, and began typing up his report. He had to stop several times to get up and slink around his office to stop his emotions getting the better of him. He could make a personal note at the end of his report, but the body of it must be fact and nothing else.

—————————

“How did you find my family?” Jo’skar asked.

“Went to their last known address and took photos.” Jack said, putting on a confused look.

“I mean, how did you know they were my family?” Jo’skar was going to treat with this person very carefully. He was obviously very intelligent and dangerous. He threatened his family, after all.

“Ah. That, I think I will keep to myself for now. But, I think it’s time you start answering my questions.”

Or they will pay the price. Jo’skar grimaced. “Fine. Ask your questions.”

“You were a mining foreman before you joined the Rim Coalition. Why did you leave?” Jack asked.

Not the question I thought he would ask... “Because the Core takes all our hard work, all our resources, and uses it to better themselves while leaving us on the Rim with nothing.” He felt some anger ripple through him on that point, but he knew he couldn’t start spewing dogma at this man.

“I understand that...” Jack muttered under his breath, but Jo’skar heard him anyway.

“Is your species also on the Rim?” He ventured.

“More or less. Though a rather desolate part of it.”

“Every part on the Rim is desolate. That’s why what the Core is doing is wrong. That is why they have to be stopped!” Maybe he could make this being feel some sympathy for him. After all, they were both being exploited.

“Good thing my species keeps all their goods then.” And just like that, Jo’skar’s hopes were dashed.

“Why did you leave your family behind? They believe you died in an explosion at the mining site on Theranus VI. Why would you leave your family behind, and allow them to believe you died?” The interrogator asked this quietly, almost sympathetic. As if abandoning ones family was the worst thing one could do. And he was right. Except...

“They wouldn’t have been safe. I had to choose between them, or fighting for the entire Rim. You can’t have both in something like this.” Jo’skar hardened his heart. He would not breakdown at this.

“And so you actually take the lives of fathers and mothers, forcing them to abandon their families when they would rather not. You take that choice away from them,” the human said, but without malice or accusation. It was a statement of fact.

“They make their choice -“ he started.

“THEY MADE THEIR CHOICE TO LIVE AND TO LET LIVE!” The human stood up, slamming his fists on the table clearly furious. How quickly he switched between emotions was astounding. “They chose to live the best they can, not harming anyone. They follow the rules. They lived lives in peace, AND YOU ENDED THOSE LIVES!”

Jo’skar was feeling humiliated. And angry. “I only struck at those responsible for the theft of property of the Rim! I never once attacked innocents!”

The human opened the folder he had placed there earlier that day. On top was his photo, and small writing in a language Jo’skar couldn’t identify. His native language likely.

As the human flipped through, he noticed there were photos of places he had been in the last [15 years]. People he had met. Charts and graphs telling stories about him that Jo’skar had no way of knowing. The more he flipped, the more recent the photos appeared. Until...

“Ah, yes here we are. GCSS University. [2 years] ago. Law school. Judge Falind was to give the keynote speech to the graduating students. Do you remember this?” The human asked. Before Jo’skar could answer, he pressed on. “218 casualties. 44 deaths, the rest either severely wounded or critically maimed. And that’s just from the initial blast. Analysis on the blast radius, materials, and likely construction look shockingly similar to another bomb, one that you supposedly died in, and another recently recovered... in your possession nonetheless.”

Jo’skar was nervous now. He really did not bomb that building. He was simply transporting a bomb made by the Coalition. He said as much, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“So what I’m thinking now is that you didn’t care about the civilian casualties. The innocents harmed by your bomb.”

“I didn’t build that bomb!” Jo’skar said, hoping the man would listen to him. Yet the interrogation continued.

“I think you did. Explosives are used in mining. You were a mining foreman turned terrorist. Had access to the materials to build a bomb. It’s not hard to make the connection. You built that bomb, hurting 218 innocents for the sake of one person. An individual you deemed a threat. There were children...”

“I DIDN’T BUILD THAT BOMB!” Jo’skar shouted. “There are lots of miners in the Coalition. None of us ever built bombs before, we just know how to use them!”

“Then who the Hell built them? If not you, then who!?” The human was just as agitated as Jo’skar was.

“Some ex-military guy, I only met him once!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jo’skar was shamed. The human had calmed down immediately. His face no longer red, not breathing heavily. He smoothed his shirt down and sat.

“You’re not lying to me, are you Sar’aal? That would be a great shame for everyone involved.”

“I am not lying,” not even flinching at the sound of his true name, Jo’skar almost whispered it. How did he give such critical information to this person so easily? Wasn’t he supposed to be stronger than this? Maybe it was the innocent lives...

“...I believe you. And I will make sure my superiors believe you too.” Jo’skar took no comfort in that. “I need his name, Sar’aal.”

“Ven-tal. I am done with your questions now. Send me to the executioner. I have nothing else to provide you.” Jo’skar looked at the human. The human looked back at him.

“No. I think we can help each other, actually.”

#hfy #hwtf #thoughts #humansarespaceorcs

[dyinghorizons-blog]

[starkmaiden]

I think about the Dragon hoards in the series, Dragon Slippers, a lot. The main character, Creel, is like “you’re a dragon. So you must have mountains of gold” and The dragon’s like “why would I have gold? What would I do with gold? I don’t like it.” And the hoards are all things the love. That dragon had hundreds of shoes, his best friend had books, one had dresses, another tapestries, another collected stain glass windows, one had dozens of dogs as his hoard. I think that is just amazing.

[helthehatter]

This book was a masterpiece and a classic and it deserves to be recognized

[dyinghorizons-blog]

The next D&D game I am in, if we come across a dragons hoard I am going to ask why there is so much gold instead of things the dragon actually likes... Plenty of things are shinier than gold, have more uses, are more entertaining, etc... Alternatively, if I run another campaign or even dragon hunt one-shot the hoard will be nothing more than heart shaped rocks and gems (gotta have some value from killing a dragon after all).

[dyinghorizons-blog]

Thoughts

So what would y'all think about an alien race that was entirely peaceful (think a Class 2 planet from the JVerse) and never developed any kind of real aggression ever. Those individuals that did were exiled from society as such aggression, hate, or whatever was the epitome of blasphemy. Then they start getting wrecked by a swarm of essentially their polar opposites (inspiration: Zerg). So this species decides to "contract" a few humans (who, in case you haven't noticed our history as a species, is incredibly warlike despite, or even because of, our desire for peace) to try to stem the flow while they petition for action from a Galactic Council that is notoriously slow to act (think Star Wars Senate and Courts).

[was-deathsyoungerbrother-deacti]

Muggles are not able to REBLOG this.

[deleting-pls-follow-at-damolier]

REBLOG this to prove you are not a Muggle.

my reblog button fucked up and i almost had a heart attack

I did it in the first try.

OH YEAH

[captnsulu-deactivated20161211]

OH MY GOD.

MY COMPUTER BROWSER FROZE AND I DIDN’T REALIZE IT. I COULDN’T BREATHE.

JESUS.

But the lack of notes truly worries me

[deltablogsthings-deactivated201]

WORK, DAMNIT!

[nightskyandfallingstars]

IT DIDN’T WORK FOR A MOMENT AND I HAD A MINI HEART ATTACK

[straightfaxx]

FIRST TRY! I KNEW IT! I ALWAYS KNEW I WASN’T LIKE ALL THOSE MUGGLES! WHU THE BLOODY HELL AM I NOT AT HOGWARTS?! DUMBLEDORE GODDAMN IT!!

[antique-moonglade]

OFFICIALLY A PUREBLOOD SLYTHERIN WITCH NOW. THIS REBLOG HAS PROVED IT FIGHT ME

[dyinghorizons-blog]

[mantoniospam]

HFY in a nutshell

[prorevenge]

The mad bartender.

God I spent countless hours as a teen playing on a heavily modded and roleplay enforced ultima online server. I played Cedric Sartone, simple farmer turned tavern owner who eventually turned it into THE BEST PLACE IN TOWN. It was poppin every night, I was buddies with every adventurer, soldier, mage, druid, and ranger that played the game. After they went out and grinded their skills and did their quests, I was waiting for them with a warm fire and plenty of ale. I’d buy their ingredients and make awesome food and booze (max level cooking!) and was privy to all the gossip.

Little did they know I had a side hobby, I was brewing massive amounts of the most gamebreakingly toxic poison possible. For over a year I roleplayed with these people as a simple barman, pretended to be their friend and confidant, and then during a harvest festival where every player on our server was in attendance and I was payed to provide the food and drink… I poisoned every last morsel of food, every drop of drink and after the reagent delivered his speech and all of these fools raised their goblets for the toast and took that deadly sip, I stepped onto the stage and revealed what had happened. They where all going to die, and die they did.

Now this was a permanent death server (hardcore rpers mind you) and some had been playing those characters for 8 years and there they all were, collapsed and dying. Soon they were all unconscious, as you could only die if you went unconscious three times in one day or if a certain psychotic bartender came and cut off your head… which I did to every player in our group of 38. They were all there, and unfortunately so was I.

Revenge against what, you ask?

So the server had a pretty strict policy regarding pvp and pk, essentially the GMs had to determine if there was in character justification for any instance of disputed player killing, obviously my situation prompted a call for an investigation. I understood those rules from the start though, and I kept a written log in the game where I detailed my character’s building hatred of every single other player character in the world. He would keep track of every little thing from petty slights, to unpaid tabs, but more importantly I adopted the little mannerisms that people roleplayed to develop their characters into the madness of mine.

So Elias was always whistling, well I recorded how infuriating Cedric found it in his journal, and soon he had multiple journals packed full of a thousand reasons an unstable maniac could use to justifiably (re: server rules) murder anyone. The reagent who was also the server admin had some ornate cloak with a custom texture, so I wrote like three pages about how pompous it was, and extrapolated what kind of insufferable prick he must have been for wearing it.

I would just write one or two things down every day for over a year, so I had many books full for the GMs to locate in the tavern basement and read through. The result was that they found my massacre to be in good form and in-character, so the server was not rolled back and instead they decided to reset and implement a new landmass they had been working on. Some people were really pissed off, mostly a handful of the veteran players who had been top dog for several years in their little gladiator arena.

I only did any of it because my first character was murdered by some overzealous asshole who just used his character to project his inferiority complex. He killed me on my second day on the server because I wandered into the funeral of his friend (it was taking place in the middle of town and there was a crowd, of course I was curious) and because I was not invited and he was a known prick it was found justifiable for his character to kill mine because of the emotional turmoil blah blah. So yeah I said f*ck that, and rolled a new character who was ostensibly eager to please and non-threatening. I won.

[dyinghorizons-blog]

Holy shit.

[dyinghorizons-blog]

So about your family...

So we have all seen those stories about humans being super nice, or super strong, or witty, clever, adaptive, etc. But what if we were really none of these things? I mean not exceptionally of course. What if instead we were just morally absent, or had the capability to project said moral absence in the face of something greater, that other species just cannot compete with?

"Jo'skar, you have been captured during a terrorist attempt to bomb the Galactic Collective of Sentient Species Congress."

Jo'skar didn't care what this Faath had to say to him. He was going to prison if he was lucky, executed if he was not. It did not matter, because his objective had failed, and that meant that another would need to be sent in his place to impress upon the GCSS just how much they had angered several races on the Rim. And so he sat, staring daggers into his interviewer.

"Understand, Jo'skar, that you do not need to communicate with me. YOUR involvement has already been confirmed, and therefore sentence will be passed shortly likely resulting in your summary execution... However," Jo'skar felt some trepidation at the pause here, especially considering how nervous the Faath seemed to be. "A relatively newly contacted species has requested the honor of questioning you for further information concerning your accomplices regarding any and all activities of a terroristic nature. Given their recent history, we are inclined to afford them the opportunity." The Faath promptly stood up from his chair and left the interview room. Slowly, almost reluctantly for a slug-looking blue hat (where had he heard that term? It doesn't matter...).

So Jo'skar sat, at least [15 minutes] before anything happened. It didn't matter. They could put him in an ultra bright cell for months on end, blare the most annoying sounds for years, cut on him, crush him, try to seduce him, anything. None of it mattered for the cause. He was someone else than who they thought. Oh yes. He was Jo'skar, but he was someone else too. And they would never get to the core of that, as he had left his family behind, his identity, even changed his appearance so no one would recognise him. The Cause was safe.

Suddenly the heavy steel door opened, letting in an averaged sized being, mammalian, with a dark patch of fur on the top of its head and going down along the sides if its face to the chin, and on its upper lip. Considering the rest appeared hairless, it was a rather thick amount of fur just in those areas. Odd. The individual also appeared to be tired and not particularly interested in the job put before it. Jo'skar's scales turned a lighter shade of brown in amusement. "THIS is the species to interview me? What a joke..." He thought as the mammal sat down opposite him and dropped the folder it was carrying as if a huge weight. Admittedly, a large folder perhaps [2 inches] thick but still just a folder.

"Sar'aal, sorry to be so late," the mammal stated exasperated. Jo'skar flinched at the sound of his real name.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Jo'skar," corrected the interviewer. Jo'skar relaxed a bit. Perhaps someone had used his real name as a pseudonym. "I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here. We haven't got to the point of real names, have we?" Jo'skar immediately felt a bit of fear.

"My name is Jo'skar, and no other name will suffice," he ventured, his first words since capture.

"Well that's a shame for your mother, Ysildda, your father Kri'sna, your sisters Ommeli, Imutna, and Farryi, let alone your own family. I'm sure you know them. Erannha, and your children Kris'ka and Fr'atkha?" The being produced photographs of each individual as it stated their names. Almost in a bored fashion.

"You see, we humans are very good at counter terrorism operations. We had several decades dealing with our own terrorists, in fact. And where terrorists refuse to cooperate, we find it extremely difficult to protect their families, even if they have cut all ties with them," the individual, now identified as human, stated. "So here is my proposal. And you only get it once. Answer any and all of my questions, or I cannot guarantee your family's safety the next time the GCSS decides to go on a terrorist raid."

[spacefaringviking]

Guys i found Sergeant Stabby’s precursor