paulymath: Les angles intérieurs de l'hexagone

hexagon angles interior

hexagon angles interior - win

A deeper dive into the "musical conspiracy theory" (A4=440Hz versus A4=432Hz).

There was a post about this recently, though it didn't go into very much detail at all, so I thought I'd fix that, and try to cover both sides of the argument, for and against.
I've been continually updating this post with new information for hours, while I research this, so feel free to check again later!

About the theory

There is a conspiracy theory that the very tuning system modern music uses (A4=440Hz) is designed to make us more anxious or aggressive, or to otherwise make us less in tune with our spirituality.
It's a pretty fun one.
Proponents of this conspiracy claim that 432Hz is more natural, that it is more fundamental to nature and more in tune with the universe itself.
It is often claimed that the Rockefellers or the Nazis came up with 440Hz, as a form of control or division.
People often talk about how 432Hz aligns with our chakra and so has healing properties, or that it encourages spiritual development.
There are many interesting numerical, numerological and geometric properties/relationships between 432Hz and other things in the world/universe.

For the theory

Against the theory

Bonus #1

There is this phenomenon called the overtone series, or the harmonic series, and if you don't know about it then boy are you in for a treat.
All tones, except for pure sine waves, have "overtones".
Let's say we have a string, a piano string, tuned to C... C2. We strike the key. What do you think you're hearing?
A C2? ...just a C? Wrong! You're hearing a whole butt-load of notes.
When a string vibrates, it doesn't just vibrate along its entire length but also along various subdivisions of 1/2, 1/3, 1/4 etc., all simultaneously.
As a result, what you hear is: C2, C3, G3, C4, E4, G4, Bb4, C5, D5, E5, F5, G5 and so on.
As the overtones go up, they become more and more faint but they are definitely there.
This is one reason why low/bass notes sound "fuller" - because there are more overtones. The other reason, I believe, is just because bass strings are thicker?
The more astute reader may notice that embedded in the first 4 overtones of C(2) is a C Major chord and embedded in the first 5 overtones is a C dominant 7th chord. Within the first ten overtones lies the entire C Major scale, aside from the missing A note and disregarding the additional Bb note.
So then, the foundations of our music system itself are literally embedded in every single individual note, thanks to physics/nature.
Isn't that beautiful?

Bonus #2

It's also worth mentioning equal temperament and well temperament. Equal temperament, the modern system, is based on the 12th root of 2. In this system, all 12 semitones are spaced equally far apart and so every key feels the same, so you can modulate freely from key to key, due to the uniformity of the semitones. One drawback is that major thirds are quite a bit off from where they should be, another is that the various musical keys lose their unique flavour or colour or feel.
The previous system, well temperament, is based on ratios - the octaves are not divided equally into 12, so some keys' semitones are higher or lower than others. For instance, some keys have quite stable major thirds and others not so much, this gives every key a unique feel, but overall makes modulation a bit easiebetter sounding than the system before it, and avoids the problem of "wolf fifths/intervals" from the system before it, which I won't go into.
In essence, in the old system some keys are more in-tune (e.g. C) and so are more consonant and others are somewhat out-of-tune (e.g. C#) and so are more dissonant, whereas in the new system every key is equally in-tune.
This doesn't really relate to the conspiracy theory exactly, as you can use either equal or well temperament with any tuning (A=440Hz, A=432Hz etc.), as far as I understand.
Although you could argue that this is a conspiracy in and of itself, in that they took away the unique feel or colour of each key and made everything more... bland or boring. Perhaps this was part 1 of their 2-part evil musical plan!
You could also argue that the new system takes away the mathematical beauty in the ratios of the older systems and if there is indeed some link between frequency and geometry and physics and consciousness and whatever else, then we're kind of doing ourselves a disservice.
As an additional bonus for making it this far, here's a song that starts at A4=432Hz, but changes to A4=440Hz part of the way through. It's subtle!
You can find lots of 432Hz videos on YouTube, including comparisons.
Have fun.
P.S. This took 8 straight hours of my sad, sad life to research and compile.
submitted by bachbeethovenbrahms to conspiracy [link] [comments]

Hi all, looking for a method of cutting shallow angles on my table saw. The mitre guage only goes to 45⁰ and i need roughly 60⁰. The material i need to cut is 2x2" framing wood.

Any ideas? Tried searching for 'shallow mitre guage" to see if there's anything I can replace mine with, but maybe I'm using the wrong search term..
submitted by Gimme_yo_dang to woodworking [link] [comments]

"He poisoned our water supply, burned our crops, and delivered a plague unto our houses!"

submitted by Drawmicon to BikiniBottomTwitter [link] [comments]

Soundless Conflicts - 42

Navigation Destinations
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1-10 11-20 21-30
31-40 41-End
« Beginning End »
Tense Times
"Alright, crazy thought here: How about we just run like everything's on fire?"
"Seriously, Em." Jamet was having trouble focusing. Something about combining adrenaline highs and stress seemed to be making the medication wear off faster. That warm, comfortable quilt of numbness was more like a thin blanket now, thrown over the smoking oven of agony that was her arm. Fear and worry made every reply a biting snap. "If you can't think of anything-"
"Actually, that is not too bad of an idea." Accidental peacemaker wasn't a role Paul typically played. "We have two opposing forces here, both far out of our ability to handle. Why not hunker down, or leave entirely? Let them fight each other?"
"Would that work?" Siers seemed to be honestly considering the merits. His quiet voice filled the comm link and bounced off the dirty walls of Jamet's control center. "The Kipper's drive is available, after all. We simply couldn't use it because of the risk. But with those manufacturing drones distracted by the new arrival could we make use of it in the confusion? Escape the system?"
"Ah, not to throw a wrench in this or anythin', but ah'm currently in a lifeboat? While ah do like you all, especially Em-"
"Aww, that bought you a free pass." Fake sniffles drifted through the transmission.
"-ah'm not really interested in dyin' out here while everyone makes a run for it. That's more the LT's thing."
"It's been less than an hour and already that's going to be a joke?" Jamet shifted slightly, trying to find a position that relieved pressure on her arm. There wasn't any such magical angle or adjustment (of course) but her hindbrain couldn't help it. Something was wrong and instincts as old as humanity kept her moving restlessly in search of comfort. "I really feel like being willing to literally explode for you all should get me some credit. Seriously!"
"Maybe if you pulled it off, Impossible, but that ship's blasted off." Emilia made whooshing noises. "Since you're sticking around it's gonna be nonstop comments for a loooong while."
"Back on track, everyone. Lieutenant?" Siers sent an updated system map, all combatants tagged with distance and speed markers. "What are the odds we can pick up Janson's lifeboat and get to you before the fight lands on your doorstep?"
She eyed it, leveraging less than a week's worth of manual navigation refresher courses. "That's a good question. That new ship? The Tulip? It seems to be much slower than the drones, it's barely over a four thousand miles a second. If that's their top speed even the Kipper could beat it in a straight line." Jamet stuck a leg in the air, then used her heel to slide the system map around. "Uh, just doing math in my head but it looks like fifteen minutes or so before my location becomes a brawl. Someone check that?"
"Seems correct."
"Eh, about right. Lifeboat's giving me a little under seventeen, though."
"Alright. In that case my professional opinion is," the line went silent as everyone metaphorically leaned in, breath held. "It was wonderful knowing you all."
"Booo!"
Siers didn't sound amused. "Hush, Comms. Explain that, lieutenant? And please be very persuasive, because I am a moment away from undocking and giving it a serious attempt." A confirmation beep echoed over the line, followed by the tap of an authorization being entered. "In fact I am already shutting down non-essential systems. Paul? Please close down Environmental in case we suffer more boarders."
"I will need Janson's access for ship bulkheads and hatch closures."
"Granted. Make a note please, Jackson."
"...uh. Ah will?" Then, in quiet confusion: "Jackson?"
"Whoa, hold on! Don't!" Jamet leaned into the console pickup like physical distance would help the argument. "That's not possible-- it took the lifeboat at full burn most of a day to get here. The ship can move a lot faster but you're also talking about doing it by manual navigation, with a casual stop to pick up a lifeboat on the way. How hard do you think that is?" Visions of her failed simulated Kipper ships tearing apart filled Jamet's imagination, spewing pixelated coins and crewmembers across hard vacuum. "Because I'm here to tell you I don't think I could do a drive-by pickup without a ridiculous amount of practice."
"Understood, lieutenant. I'll be using automated navigation, then. Comms, could you mind plotting a course, if you haven't already..?" More clicks and a ringing confirmation.
She sped up, distracting herself from a throbbing sensation that seemed to be making the entire room jump in time with her pulse. "Too slow! The automated system would plot an intercept, move there, decelerate for a mandatory five minutes, then coordinate with the lifeboat for an easy coupling." Jamet blew an exasperated breath. "Which takes another ten minutes minimum because of safety systems. By the time the ship turned this way you'd be looking right at a cloud of pieces where the smelter used to be."
"Well just do it in reverse, then?" The short technician practically added a 'duh' on the end. "Go straight to the smelter, pull the Princess out of her tin castle and turn around."
Jamet leaned as far to the left as she could, setting a sweat-covered forehead on the skinsuit's forearm. It felt cool, refreshing. Or maybe her face was just burning up. Was it possible to have a fever from a broken arm? Or from too many injections? "Damn this hurts."
Paul was immediately suspicious. "What hurts?"
"Doesn't matter. Em, even if you started right this instant it would be something like fifteen minutes just to get here." She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it as everything went fuzzy. "You'd still be going... through docking... when it hit."
He wouldn't let up. "Jamet. Can you hear me? What hurts? Medications in those kits are exceptionally strong. You should not be feeling anything."
"Arm. Throbbing, making me dizzy." Stars crossed through the room, diving from the overheads. Moving her head caused afterimages to jump from every surface-- dozens of consoles like ghosts, only coming together into a solid object when she stopped moving. "Everything is jumping around, catching up to itself." Did that make sense? Someone was shouting about explosions now, tone loud and scared. "It's okay. It missed." Jamet tried to be reassuring but everything felt like it was spinning out of sync.
"What missed?" Paul seemed confused and alarmed in equal measures. "Lieutenant, be completely honest-- did you take the other medications? Because if you used the air cast without-"
Emilia broke in, yelling. "It's firing again! Look! The ship is lighting up!"
Jamet lolled her head to one side, fighting through dozens of afterimages until the workspace came into view. It was true: On screen the damaged flower ship was lighting up. Every remaining leaf slowly gathered a limn of white fire that moved like congealed smoke, power smoothly arcing forward from the bright ring at the back of the vessel. Whatever process the Tulip used to charge up was obviously hampered by losing petals; at least four of the huge pieces spun in freefall behind it now in torn segments. Swarm drones buzzed and dove around it like angry insects.
Its course, however, was undeterred-- still aimed directly at the smelter and the battered co-CEO inside. In fact, it was aiming very directly at it. Janson took control of their shared transmission, sounding extremely concerned. "Uhm, it is about to shoot the LT?"
"Oh shit! Impossible, that thing is about to blast you!" She could practically hear Emilia's arms waving around. "Get out! Or find something to hide behind!"
"S'alright," she mumbled, eyes squinting at the display. Markers were jumping around like fading dots, moving forward and back across half a dozen display ghosts. It was hard to focus on just one. "It missed."
"It hasn't even fired yet!"
Petals finally hit final charge, each tip blazing with contained balls of power normally reserved for primary stars. They dipped together, touching each to the central column in a radiant explosion that instantly turned to a supernova flash that whited out the workstation display. But that was fine because Jamet could feel the beam go by: A soundless roar like standing too close to a power relay when it suddenly goes to full charge. Invisible fields smashed through the entire interior of the control room, sending loose tools and metallic scrap into a brief tornado of movement. Even the overhead lights blurred, shadows jumping back and forth where there shouldn't be any.
For a brief moment Jamet saw someone by her chair, tall and lithe like a bird, bent over with an air of confused inspection. She turned, surprised and ready to shout, but they were gone before her eyes could track. Only trash and tools remained, dozens of afterimages flying around each until they resolved into a single item. "S'that?"
"Lieutenant!" Siers was nearly shouting. "Report if you're alive!"
"It missed! It missed the smelter! Holy shit, she called it!" Then, incredibly: "Wait, how the hell could it miss with a shot that big? Impossible should be atoms right now."
"Actually, she called it before it happened." Paul sounded thoughtful. "Which has me concerned about causality again. But what was it aiming at, if not the smelter? Emilia, help me backtrack the recording. What was near the smelter before it fired?"
Siers brushed the question aside with crisp orders. "We're leaving. Lieutenant, if you're awake, prepare to receive us in as early as ten minutes. I'm going to manually-"
Metallic hail started hammering the outside of her smelting facility, terrifically loud bangs and pings than sending consoles into a frenzy of status updates. Alarms began blaring a moment later, nearly drowning out the comm link.
"Noooo." She slurred the word, then focused. "Navigational... hazard." It felt like lifting an entire mountain but she got a foot up on the console, running cold toes through every blurry image until enough indicators received acknowledgement to shut up the alarms. "He hit... drone cluster... near me."
"Captain, I am forwarding footage from before that shot." Another callout appeared on the workspace, showing the smelter and a region of busy space beyond it. Hundreds of asteroids spun through the image in slow tumbles, in and out of frame until Paul highlighted something. "There, about five thousand miles away. See it?"
Janson sure did. "Ah, that's the tailings."
"The what? It looks metallic, how did we not see that on scan?" Siers was furious.
"We did!" Emilia pulled the image back, then highlighted both the smelter and Paul's marker. "It's a part of the smelter operation! That's where they dump waste products, stuff they don't want or can't use. It's supposed to be there, it's a part of the facility so our visual scan didn't bother cataloging it."
"Makes sense. Smelters don't get everythin', always a pile of tailings layin' around. Looks like it was getting converted into something a lot bigger than contaminate storage, though."
He was right-- with the image zoomed close everyone could see the telltale hexagons eating half the side of the dump site. "How large is- or I suppose was it? Comms, Engineer?"
Emilia sounded unhappy. "Couple hundred miles wide, sir. It's, uh... a lot of dump in one spot."
"Ah! I knew there was a reason. Captain, remember when ah was confused about where their exotic materials were comin' from? I think that was it. Hell of a good recycler on those drones, I'm guessing." Janson seemed pleased to have a puzzle solved.
Siers' voice hit with a reverb and echo effect from using the ship broadcast at the same time as their conference call. "All personnel, prepare for undocking and maneuvers. Harnesses are required, find one immediately." He switched back to normal. "Lieutenant, we're coming if you can hear me."
Wait-- they did this part already. Didn't they? Jamet was so tired everything came through with a weird echo. "Nooo. Navigation... hazard. Don't."
"Oh! Wait, don't!" Emilia repeated Jamet in a panicked tone. "That hit scattered debris everywhere! Well, whatever wasn't vaporized. We'll be going at high speed face-first into chunks of metal and pieces of whatever those drones are. Can we handle more damage like that?"
The overheads flickered around Jamet's control room. She looked up with bleary eyes, slowly tracking around the area as shadows jumped across every space. Everything was throbbing now, from her arm all the way down to both legs. A pounding heartbeat, rolling back and forth like a tide felt in every bone and muscle. Each pulse made the room bright and dark again, sending a dizzying number of reflections and ghost movements spinning out of sight. Nausea hit like a tidal wave, held back only by deep breaths and raw will.
She looked towards the only safe place in the room: Straight upwards over the chair. The portrait was still there, wry and half-amused, poised to speak but silent. Jamet took comfort in the non-motion of the marker strokes while focusing on keeping herself from vomiting, trying to ignore sweat rolling underneath pieces of skinsuit.
"-I'm willing to try, lieutenant. Can you hear me?" Siers asked it with the sad tone of someone expecting bad news.
"I'm... here..." Why did this seem so familiar?
"Sir, I don't think we can fly into that. Nobody can, not until fragments of that blast have time to clear out. Even then it'll take a wrecker with some heavy singularities to eat the big stuff." Emilia was trying to be reasonable and sad at the same time. "Ask Impossible, she'll say the same."
His voice was rough on the communications line. "Lieutenant-- Jamet-- if you're still there: The shot wasn't aimed at the facility. We think it was meant for a nearby drone cluster and you were right on the edge."
She said that before. Didn't she? Just a bit ago?
"But the debris is a significant navigational hazard."
Navigational hazard. Jamet whispered the words at the same time. She definitely said that first, just a minute ago. Even the portrait agreed, eyes permanently turned away in sardonic disbelief.
Siers sounded fatalistic, nearly haunted. "We are undocked now and I need to know if you believe we can make it to you." Jamet opened her mouth, lips moving as she mouthed the next words with him: "I'm willing to try, lieutenant. Can you hear me?"
The portrait overhead slowly came to life. Marker lines blurred, afterimages splitting off in visions of different poses. Eyes closed, then open. Mouth smiling and then frowning, eyebrows slanted in sarcasm or raised in surprise. The artist caught in this chair for a year and a half going through hundreds, then thousands of different possibilities in the space of a long breath. Not just a single picture: Every possible combination they ever could have drawn, given infinite tries and inspiration. Black marks of emotion; rage giving way to despair, then loneliness and isolation as time went on and on, endlessly, no communications, no one coming...
...and Jamet could see it now, see her arm lifted overhead. Whole and unbroken, pointing a thick black marker like a paintbrush. One stroke at a time, pauses in between that lasted both days and instants all at once. But the skinsuit arm was wrong-- thinner than hers, the material red with silver slashes. And the glove was off, showing bird-thin wrists and a long, slender artist's hand holding the marker lightly in a three finger grip. It wasn't hers. She was seeing someone else, sitting in the same immoveable chair, tied to the same spot by an evil system.
"It's time," she whispered as realization hit, hearing the long-gone artist say those exact words with her. The same words, at the same time, but different meanings: Jamet spoke with wonder and realization, remembering Paul's comment about tachyons and the Siers' confusion over recordings. But the past woman said it differently, with despair and heartbreak roiling under a shell of depression.
Jamet tried again, wanting to explain what was happening to herself and the past ghost all at once. "We're together." She meant it as an explanation-- I am here, with you. Do you see? We're the same right now. The ghost whispered it at the same time, but aimed upwards at the completed portrait. Like a prayer. Like a goodbye. We're together.
Then they sheared off, afterimages of a smaller woman sitting up in the chair and stepping down. Ghost lights dying as past systems shut down, leaving her in a twilight darkness. Jamet craned to watch as the shadow moved away, stepping to the airlock with her marker still held in one hand...
"Lieutenant! We are on our way!" Siers yelled it as if he were in the next room, trying to be heard over a rush of sound.
The ghost of an airlock opened for the woman, both there and not at once. She watched a figment of echo and shadow walk through a closed hatch, then murmured to the comm pickup. "No, you're not." Jamet shook her head. "You haven't left yet."
The afterimage faded away, leaving behind only her airlock. Sealed, solid and real. But Jamet could still hear the marker, squeaking and slashing at the other side. A furious shade writing months of tearful anger on the mausoleum walls.
Her head didn't throb any more. But the images were still there, skating off every wrapper, piece of paper or console. Dozens of possibilities, overlapping at once. She looked down at the workspace, seeing the incoming fight both far away and right on top of the smelter all at once. A dot labelled Kipper jumped positions every time Jamet blinked, crossing from right next to the derelict habitation ring to halfway between them with each motion.
But never farther. No matter how many times Jamet looked, the Kipper's course always stopped with a terrible finality. Like an egg thrown against a wall, the dot zipping along and suddenly smashed, gone. The implication wasn't hard to grasp: Collision. Destruction. But communicating that horrible outcome was a problem. Where was she right now? When was she at this moment? Could she do anything about it, and how?
Perhaps she could cheat. It seemed simple, really, all about the timing. Jamet waited until the Kipper's callout reset to the habitation ring, then spoke as strong and clearly as she could into the console's audio: "I'm here. Emilia is right: You'll all die in the debris wave. Don't come."
She waited for the dot to move again, to fly into a fatal collision at the desperate speed of friendship. But it didn't move-- possibilities, collapsed. Paradox solved. "It can change," Jamet whispered in tone of stunned joy. Then she laughed, head thrown back. "We can change it!"
And the portrait over her head turned, looking downward with surprise and something close to anger. Endless possibilities of marker strokes condensed into a single storm cloud of expression, deep lines and forced perspective conspiring in groups of shading to give the illusion of motion.
Beautifully drawn eyes focused across a distance too impossible to put a number on, slowly catching Jamet's in a look of surprise they both shared at the same time.
What... are you?
"What are you?"
submitted by Susceptive to HFY [link] [comments]

Soundless Conflicts - 44

Navigation Destinations
« Back 44 End »
1-10 11-20 21-30
31-40 41-End
« Beginning End »
Final Callbacks
Corporate playgrounds are subtle lessons in treachery.
When she was little, before mock games took a turn to real consequences, Jamet's favorite thing to play on was the "seesaw". It was a staple of playgrounds everywhere: Just a single support post with a long piece of metal balanced across it, a seat placed on both extreme ends. Two children would each take a seat, then trade turns pushing off the ground to be the one "up". Being "down" wasn't as good: You couldn't see much with your butt on the dirt. But being on top was fantastic-- taller than an adult, feet dangling, a heady rush of victory.
And all you had to do to secure that feeling was kick off, put the other person down. One winner, one loser, trading places by effort.
The Corporate version had six seats and backstabbing.
With six chairs and a single pivot the seesaw became warfare, a hexagon of social combat. Balanced on a central point only two children could ever be "uppers" at a time. The unfortunate lower pair with their rears in the dirt could work together to push off and force the other side down, of course... but they had to overcome the last third of the group. The middle seaters.
Balanced sideways between the uppers and lowers, middles were neither high nor low. But they did influence change. When lowers pushed off to claim victory middles could lean against the effort and drive them back down. Or help by throwing weight into the push, sending uppers crashing downward without risking their balanced position across the center.
As a social lesson the hexagon setup was brutal in teaching aspiring climbers necessary skills to remain on top: Always alliance someone below, working them to sabotage a partner, ensuring you never lose your spot on top. Failure to breed fratricide in the ranks resulted in painful falls.
The child version of Jamet was a legendary terror of the teeter-totter.
As an adult it was much less enjoyable.
But at the end of her life, sitting in a sadistically comfy chair and riding the edge of a drugged-up psychotic break, those long-ago playground skills came into new practice. In the wake of the Tulip's superweapon firing so close the flow of time seemed to be broken... or least extremely non-linear in nature. Jamet felt like she was riding that seesaw hexagon again, but now a version of herself was in every single seat, ghostly visions intersecting with hers in barely-visible angles. Upper copies were pain-free, older and wiser, looking backwards from distant futures with silent concern. Lower seaters suffered in misery, shattered arms and boatloads of overdosed medication making it hard to think at all.
Which put her back in Middle Management again, balanced between a horrible near-past and a possible bright future. Leaning side to side, throwing her weight as possibilities opened and closed with every moment.
And she wasn't alone.
"These are some insane painkillers in these kits." Jamet stared upwards at the ceiling of the smelter, watching a dead artist's final portrait flow between expressions like it was a video conference call. "I really have to warn Paul about mixing medications."
The portrait seemed just as confused as she was. Stylized eyebrows came down in worry, eyes tracking back and forth like they had trouble focusing on the woman trapped in the control chair. Realistically shaped lips moved, a powerful suggestion of voice without any volume. I can hear you talking. I can feel you, but from where? From when? Then, tellingly: How are you here?
One of the Lower, downstream versions of herself glanced at the console, noting an angry swarm of hostile red dots approaching the smelter in pursuit of the Tulip. This information trickled to Middle in waves, causing a lot of fear along the way until one of the Uppers disappeared in a flash of lost possibilities. Another took its place, looking significantly more beaten and weary.
Jamet had a feeling that wasn't good. How many more of her future selves could she lose before the seesaw didn't work? Actually, that was the perfect question to ask. She gave it a shot, looking upwards and feeling extremely stupid addressing the ceiling. "Can you help me?"
Confusion in thousands of black lines. I don't know. Where are you? Is your present near me, now?
That was an easy answer, considering there was only a single unaccounted-for ship in Pilster-3 right now. "Probably. Are you piloting the Tulip? The uh, big ship with a huge plasma weapon? Are you some kind of CEO on board? Or a passenger, maybe?" Wow, Jamet really hoped Emilia wasn't recording this somehow. In fact-- she glanced at her Lower, who wearily nodded and used her (their) heel to mute the comms link.
Another flash of possibilities, another Upper replaced. A glowing version of herself this time, face full of laugh lines and humor, wearing a uniform she'd never seen before. A future reopened-- which interested present-her very much.
Overhead the portrait was going through several fast expressions. Surprise and disgust, then a deep sort of thoughtfulness before settling on introspective concern. Yes, I have been on the Tulip. Many times. But I have not been a... CEO. This came across with a wary sort of concern, like insulting a host at their own party. Nor am I ever a passenger. Can you narrow down your present?
"That's kind of a weird request. Can you narrow down your present?" Which was apparently the wrong thing to say: Upstream Jamets blazed by like a paired lightshow in a double kaleidoscope of failures. "Ack! Come back!" A new pair settled into place, identical gray hair in braids over their shoulders. One looked tired, arms crossed and lonely. The other seemed surprised, dusting red clay off both hands.
Come back to where? I am present in a research facility, with many others. If we are meeting at the sh- Tulip I need context. What is your present?
Jamet metaphorically looked across at her Middle counterpart. They shrugged, then consulted the Lowers, both of whom pointed chins at consoles full of raging drone swarms across a backdrop of asteroids.
Realization hit. Talk about a unique situation. "Oh! Right! I'm at Pils- no, that won't help. Double asteroid belts! The system has two asteroid belts! That's where I am!"
Oh. Three, seven or eight planets?
Maybe it wasn't that unique. "Two! There's only two planets here! They're both gas giants, with big facilities in orbit for resource extraction."
Streaks of shading pursued both lips as he looking slightly off to one side in thought. A perfectly outlined scar came and went, gracing the left cheekbone for just a moment before disappearing. Yes, I think I know that place. I forgot the third was artificial. What is going on, when you are?
One of her Lowers actually facepalmed, pulling her good arm off the reader and disappearing in a down-time negative flash of light that took Jamet's middle version with it. They both reappeared an instant later looking severely beaten up: The Lower now sported a broken arm, bloody lips and two black eyes. Her Middle counterpart had the same injuries, but met Jamet's worried look and painfully mouthed Janson by way of explanation.
Huh. So it could have gone a lot worse in the lifeboat. Nice to know.
"What's going on... uhhh. There's a drone swarm here. It's attacking you-- or the Tulip, I'm getting confused on that. The drones already took out a bunch of infrastructure here and tried to disassemble our ship. Does that help?"
Raw anger and concern this time, dark eyes growing like the portrait tried to lean in and see better. Consumers. You are describing machines that self-replicate, aggressive and nonresponsive?
"Yes! Triangle bastards!"
Hexagons, actually.
Jamet wondered if hallucinations were allowed to be pedantic twits. There didn't seem to be a regulation or checklist item that covered that particular case. "Sure. Those. You're getting attacked by a ton of them and doing a really, really bad job of fighting back. The Tulip is just coming right for me, dragging everything right into my lap."
Coming right for you? Your present? Why?
"Yes! I turned on the magnetic bottle for the fusion smelter. There was this idea of baiting the drones here and blowing them up. Well it was my idea, but I didn't do it. But I tried. There was a big argument with my crew while they sabotaged me, then this stupid pop up quiz stopped me from blowing up and before I could take care of that your ship-" Every version of herself gave Jamet the exact same flat look at the same time. One of her Uppers appeared to flash out of existence voluntarily, replaced by a confused-looking copy with some wild facial tattoos. "This is probably too much extra information." They all nodded. Except Tattoo, who was examining the clean-cut elderly Upper with a look of horrified disbelief.
A magnetic fusion bottle...? He said it distractedly, as if many things were going on at once. Then the mental voice sharpened in realization and a growing sense of worry. The portrait leaned back in perspective, eyes looking downward warily over shaded cheekbones. A fusion bottle, in a system with two gas giants and double asteroid belts being harvested by Consumers. With one person operating it?
"No!" Jamet thrust her chin at the console like that would indicate everyone else. "There's other people here, too. Janson, Paul, Siers, an angry dwarf, a bunch of habitation ring survivors and some actual garbage in human form. But right now you're headed for me on some kind of... suicidal rescue mission!"
Rescue. Mission..?
The portrait suddenly looked terrified, then snapped out of existence. Black marker lines condensed into a solid ball of darkness, deeper than the lightwell of a singularity and pitiless as the space between stars. Then it vanished entirely, leaving the overhead clean and smooth. Mostly.
"Oh shit." Jamet took a sideways look at the other versions of herself on this time-assisted trip, hoping for an explanation. Both Lowers and her Middle shrugged, lost. But the Uppers looked amused, the elderly version inaudibly saying something that made Tattoo laugh and offer a fist bump of solidarity. Even without being able to hear the exchange Jamet's ears started burning. "Well, I guess it can't be that bad?"
The elderly Upper blinked out of existence. Jamet panicked. "Oh shit! I take it back, it's bad! It's bad!" She popped back into place again, looking rattled. Tattoo leaned away like non-existence might be something that was catching.
Downstream of her the Lower versions were watching console screens with increasingly worried expressions. Jamet checked both displays and then looked at her own, finding them all fairly similar and equally bad. The Tulip was nearly on top of the smelter, less than two minutes out. The vessel did not look like it was doing well, at all: Of the numerous original plasma-equipped petals less than twenty remained, all of them sporting the chewed look of high speed drone hits. Superstructure slashes across the base were so deep and numerous they combined to reveal interior details: Broken support structures twisted outwards, showing something like corridors packed with blue and green lights. One entire side of the Tulip vented bright white cones of energy that looked suspiciously plasma-like from three long, ragged cuts.
But still it came on. Immense, damaged, cut and slashed from every direction. Never stopping, defensive strikes growing weaker by the second.
Jamet was stricken, both angry and deeply worried all at once. "What are they trying to do? Just turn and fight! Solve the problem, then come if you still want to! You're acting like this is all completely new, doesn't anyone know how to fight?" Which seemed completely bizarre: Why the hell would you even have a weapon that insane if you didn't know how to use it properly? That would be like the Corporate Navy forgetting how to-
She led the group in a chorus of groans, even the upstream versions of herself giving off 'what did you expect?' hand gestures. "It's manual navigation all over again, isn't it. This is some kind of stupid thing like Fiscal Enforcement and their warships-- all power, no idea what to do when something happens. I am being rescued," Jamet rolled her eyes at the overheads. "By amateurs."
Marker lines crashed together again, so sudden and violent she cringed downward into the chair even though no sound accompanied it. The portrait was back, but now in a slightly different way: Older perhaps, black lines spaced out to hint at creeping grey and white in a full head of hair. Whiskers ringed new lines around his mouth in a slight stubble of dotted black, giving the picture a slightly harried, but comfortable middle-aged appearance. He looked familiar somehow. Some shape of the eyes and cheekbones that caught her notice.
No rush this time: The portrait studied her with an avid interest, eyes clearly focused and taking note of her half-discarded skinsuit, missing boots and air cast. Jamet felt curiously embarrassed, like she wasn't meeting some sort of standard no one mentioned previously. Every version from Lower to Upper got a piece of that feeling as well, reacting with various shades of awkwardness (downstream) to "not again" and an actual "fuck off" finger-flip (upstream).
Am I speaking with Jamet Emcourt? He sounded strangely excited, but deeply respectful at the same time.
Both Uppers abruptly blinked out, the elderly stylish woman and her tattooed counterpart snapping out of existence with surprised looks. Two new women took their place. One wore a high-collared lab coat with elaborate rank slashes on the sleeves, hair pulled up in a tight bun and expression amused. The other had both hands on ample hips, exhibiting the weight gain and lived-in look of a mother multiple times over. They both glanced at the portrait overhead in shared amusement, then levelled knowing looks at Jamet.
"Uh. No. Close, though? This is Jamet Reals, do you have the wrong-" what the hell did she call this? Comm ID? Inbox? Grav relay? "-catastrophic situation?"
The portrait looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. Of course, my mistake. This is your present?
Was this a time loop? Could she just die already? "Here we go again. Yes, this is my present. Double gas giants, two asteroid belts, big flower ship coming my way, about to die with only one arm and operating a smelter with my feet."
A wry look slowly bloomed into full-blown laughter, marker lines edging every tooth and smile line. Even the crow's feet around both eyes got shading in just the right spots. It was honest mirth and so obviously not at her expense she couldn't help but smile back.
The middle-aged upstream version of her winked out. A skinsuited woman took the spot, helmet closed and one foot back in an automatic fighter's pose. Gloved hands came upward for a confrontation, opaque faceplate scanning for targets.
Well if I had doubts, they are dispelled. It truly is you, in your present.
"Glad we got that sorted out, jerk." Now she sounded like Emilia. When did she pick that habit up? "But about that rescue?"
Of course. The sh- the Tulip is yours, I have cleared the pilot from your present. Although you scared him quite badly.
"Uhh..." She glanced at her Middle, who shrugged. Both Lowers kept looking urgently between screens with 'collision imminent' warnings and Jamet in her Middle Management position. The Tulip was literally on top of them, ship outline eclipsing the smelter. If expressions had words they would be screaming to do something. Like she wasn't already trying. "Well, that's great and all. But what the hell am I supposed to do now? What's happening!?"
Do you believe in predestination?
Both Uppers nodded. Both Lowers shook their heads. Jamet tried to do both, chin going in confused circles. "What?!"
The room lit up, every overhead going to max brightness before popping from overload. At the same time everything jerked solidly as the Tulip scooped the whole facility, hard enough to catapult Jamet out of the master seat and kill her link with the ID reader. Safety systems screamed emergency alerts, every console around the room going into shutdown. She hit the floor on top of the air cast, enduring a horrible amount of crackling and popping noises that probably didn't bode well for ever being able to sign her name right-handed again. Pain torn through her like one of the drones, all sharp metal and evil intent. "Shit!"
Around the room hexagon visions of herself collapsed one by one, blurring out of existence until only the overhead portrait remained. It watched her with a kind, knowing smile.
Do you? Believe in it?
"No!" She rolled over, using bare toes and one good arm to get back on her knees. It hurt so bad she wanted to vomit. The painkillers were definitely off their timers now. "I don't!"
The airlock sheared off in a screaming roar of equalizing pressure, rancid air venting outward in a smelly cloud of crystal vapor. Jamet screamed, one good arm reflexively coming up and sure she was about to be sucked straight out into vacuum. But what hit her instead wasn't desiccating underpressure and boiling internal fluids: It was blisteringly hot, humid oxygen and glaring red light. Air so overly tropical sweat instantly began slicking everything under her skinsuit.
You always said that, presently.
Something immensely large, pink and sticky surged through the torn end of the room, filling it from edge to edge in an impossible wave. It hit Jamet before she could scream, snatching her into a floral-scented embrace that became a long downward spiral into dream.
It felt like fire. Like power.
There you are.
submitted by Susceptive to HFY [link] [comments]

Soundless Conflicts - 41

Navigation Destinations
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31-40 41-End
« Beginning End »
Familial Swarms
Jamet was pretty sure her right arm was a lost cause.
Oh, she couldn't feel it-- at least, not at the moment. That warm, heavy blanket of numbing agents in her blood was doing a bang up job. But while the pain wasn't there, not yet, a definite feeling of wrongness was creeping in around the edges. Things were moving over there that shouldn't be, like a bulky package in a coat pocket that bumped around just often enough it couldn't be forgotten about. Not to mention the throbbing: It was an interesting sensation having two different heartbeats at once. One in her chest, rough and predictable, but another a split second later from the pile of broken things attached to her shoulder in an air cast.
And she'd just lost an argument with Emilia, of all people. Which was galling on a different level. Possibly just as permanent as losing an arm could be.
"Okay. Fine." She cut the short technician off the communications link, eyes rolling so far back the portrait drawn on the ceiling came into view. He-- Thomas Minyer, she guessed-- looked away to one side with the wry look of a man not wanting to get involved. "You were right." Emilia cackled gleeful joy. "But for the record this plan would have worked. It still might, actually! Now what the hell am I looking at? What is this you're sending?"
"-and years of caf, I am talking a lifetime of the best- what? Oh, that."
"Yes! That!" Jamet awkwardly adjusted callout windows on the console's workspace, using increasingly chilled toes to push the display around. A dedicated feed from the Kipper was in the box, showing long range video of some kind of incoming craft. It looked long and sleek, tapered like a blunt cone backwards into a fat-bottomed base sporting a blazingly bright ring of light. Dozens of lines spiraled backwards from the tip almost to the base, giving it a weird look like a drill coming directly her way. "What the hell is it? Another drone, like the huge one that rammed us?"
"Uhhh, we're not sure?" The pickup went to half volume as Emilia turned away from the broadcast unit to speak across the bridge on her side. "Paul? Hey! What are we calling that? A what? That's adorable." The connection scratched briefly as something hit the pickup. "Paul and the captain are calling it the Tulip Ship."
Jamet tried to zoom and failed, then settled for leaning as far forward as possible without taking her wrist ID off the reader. She squinted at the display, eyebrows and cheeks scrunching nearly together. "Okay, I can kind of see that. It looked like a drill to me, but a closed up flower sort of works. How big is it? Are there any weapons, or am I just going to get rammed into pieces like a sitting target?"
"Ah can help you there, ma'am." Janson's lifeboat-quality comm link sounded like garbage compared to Kipper's signal. But that didn't matter because it came alongside a hauler full of guilt. "It's about the size of a warship, give or take a couple points."
She cringed into the chair like his voice was going to hit her. "Um. Thank you. And sorry about..." how did one apologize for cold-blooded betrayal? "Things. I guess." If Jamet had a free hand it would be crossing her face at lightspeed.
"It's alright, ah understand. Just didn't like your plan, but ah respect you f' trying. No grudges, seems like everythin' turned out ok. But uh, sorry for," now the big man seemed just as awkward. "Your arm and all that. Is it bad?"
Throbbing like a supernova, swollen beyond all reason and more crooked than a Corporate budget review. "It's fine, actually. No problems."
"I highly doubt that, lieutenant." Paul's voice, in contrast, sounded like he was standing next to the chair. "That you are even functional at the moment is a credit to the lifeboat medical kit. Have you bothered using the analgesics, or the anti-clotting agents?"
She leaned over, glancing down at the floor by the chair. Pieces of the medical kit lay scattered in a wide fan around the pillaged case like casualties of her mad scramble for anything to stop the pain. Some of them were, presumably, the drugs in question. "Yup, definitely took them all. But really, can we focus please? All I have is a stream of an incoming ship. While that is highly interesting can I get some sort of big-picture view? What's the speed, how long do I have, should I be leaping from the airlock right now?"
"Oh, she doesn't know yet." Emilia sounded chastened. That, more than anything, scared Jamet to the core.
"What don't I know!?" She started hitting menu options with her heel, looking for anything remotely related to an exterior sensor camera. It was a long shot: Even modifying a facility into some sort of one-person smelting operation didn't mean Corporate would splurge for sensor suites to look at nothing. But sitting in one spot completely blind while something terrible came was rapidly becoming her own personal phobia. "Em, are you hiding something from me?"
"Uhhh. Nooo?" Sincerity practically evaporated off the speakers.
"Comms," Siers took the conversation in hand with a gentle touch, stopping the argument before it could start. "Would you forward a system picture to Sera, if you haven't already..?"
"Who?" Jamet and Emilia chorused in confused sync.
"Our lieutenant. I believe she could benefit from knowing the full details, or at least we can talk through what is going on here." If he seemed bothered by the slip it wasn't showing it, voice staying steady and directive. "Jamet." He annunciated very carefully. "It seems the new arrival and our local adversaries are not mutual friends. Are you receiving the system picture now?"
Yes, she was, but Jamet almost wished to be back in the dark and blissfully ignorant. The system map Emilia forwarded looked like someone poured red paint on the entire arc of the asteroid belt. So many red enemy dots were moving at once they combined into one long smear, aimed like an arrow at the incoming green dot that was the Tulip ship. "Umm. Yes. And am I miscounting, or are there more construction ships than we thought? That's got to be two hundred plus, right?"
"Ah think so, ma'am." Janson sounded a little slurred and still fighting through residual medication effects. "If ah had to guess what we saw before, that came after us? That was their version o' attack ships. Support stuff didn't move enough f' our sensors to catch. But this? Looks like everythin' all at once, headin' hell bent for a fight."
"Well that's terrifying. We missed all of that?" Jamet squinted hard at the map, trying to anticipate vectors and course paths. If she had to approximate speeds that giant red smear and the lone incoming contact would meet up in something like two minutes at the most. "Wait. That many didn't come out for us, or that Corporate warship-- why now? What changed?"
Siers sounded thoughtful. "That's a good question. Perhaps we weren't a threat?"
"Oh yeah, I definitely don't worry about a freaking Fiscal Enforcement warship dropping in!" Emilia did sarcasm like some people painted walls-- liberally applied, heavy on the edges and double coated everywhere. "How could anything look at a warship and decide not to pull out everything at once?"
"Actually..." Jamet frowned. "Janson?"
"Ma'am?"
"We're absolutely sure those boarding drones use gravity-based power sources? Our local grav was giving them enough juice to get around, but something like the Krepsfield is a... I don't know, a buffet?"
She could picture him nodding agreeably, bushy beard scratching over the front of the skinsuit. "I'd put a bet on it, sure. Same for the big ones, too: Ah bet each one's built around a tiny singularity. Explains why they're shaped like that an' move so quick."
"Oh! They're basically torpedoes!" Emilia sounded impressed. "They're living Cormorents! Or I guess... intelligent Cormorents? Although they act pretty stupid. Maybe they're Academy graduates."
"Okay, that fits." Jamet's eyes unfocused slightly, wandering around the dirty room in thought. "Maybe they don't see us-- I mean, our ships-- as threats? What if they see us as food, or a power source? Free resources?"
"That is... fairly consistent, actually." Paul sounded just as thoughtful as she was. "Although the ramming does not make sense. Unless they assume we are the same? Perhaps it is not a ram, but a failed merge?"
Her mouth dropped open. "We both use singularities! Just in different ways! Captain: If you didn't know what either the Kipper or the attackers were, if you were ignorant of both, wouldn't we just look like the same thing in different versions?" She was on fire now, mind racing and ignoring the growing ache from her arm. "Just one version with an internal power source that moved around while the other used an external one that did the same?"
"Perhaps. But there is a world of difference between those."
Emilia jumped in, excited. "Not really! We're even made of the same stuff! Uh, the ships I mean. Not the people. Or whatever's crawling around inside those things out there." She got back on track. "Paul and I burned 'em out of the storage area, but they were quite happy to sit in there and use the ship parts as material for themselves. From the outside? Yeah, practically family."
"Thirty seconds until both groups intercept, everyone." Siers managed to announce it coolly, as if there was interesting weather going on in deep space. "While this is highly interesting-- and trust me when I say that is a very good thing from my perspective-- does it tell us anything useful?"
Janson clicked onto the link. "Well, it definitely means the new ship isn't anything friendly to 'em."
"Agreed," Paul's voice cracked hard enough to require a throat clearing. "Whatever that method of travel is, whatever materials are in use for the ship? They are antithetical to our hostiles currently in system."
"They're what?"
"Opposites, Emilia." Jamet was nodding at nothing, too excited to care. "They're so incompatible it's an all-or-nothing battle when they get together. I mean, look at that display!" Red contacts swarmed the display into a single large crimson blob, stretched forward until it was almost on top of the green dot. "Not a single runner or holdout. Everything at once. What could be so bad it takes that level of response?"
"We're about to find out, lieutenant. Comms, focus every sensor we have that direction. Center on the Tulip, half closeup and the other half at," he paused, thinking. "Let's say fifty thousand mile zoom. Forward everything to the lieutenant as well. Jamet?"
"Sir?"
"You have not powered anything else down, correct? Only the fusion bottle?"
She blinked, then double checked. "No sir. Power plant still online, Krepsfield and the fusion bottle charged but not active. Why?" The comm link updated into a larger callout, two long range sensor images side by side.
"Just a suspicion I have, although we'll know if I'm right in a moment. Comms if you're not recording then now is the time. Here they go."
Jamet leaned forward, eyes bright and alternating between callout windows on the console. On the right were the asteroids and construction ships, a mix between rock-encrusted hulls and the angry hexagon shapes of completed vessels. They moved in a swarm, over and around each other like fish in water or birds on migration, never ceasing and always in motion. When one darted out another moved smoothly into the gap left behind in an incredible display of split second timing that looked effortless and liquid. It was only when the swarm came close to the Tulip they finally changed motion, dividing into two long columns of equal thickness.
"Janson!" Siers was a directive force on the link. "Their hulls!"
"Ah see 'em, sir. So that's what they look like when they're actually tryin'?"
Her right input shifted, zooming closer on the lead of the swarm. Jamet's jaw dropped as the front vessels-- the most complete units, entirely oval and patterned in hexagons-- began shifting. Hexagon plates slid toward the front of the ship, moving underneath each other in double- and triple-thick layers until the bow of each vessel looked grotesquely thick. Devoid of a plate covering the stern looked almost fragile, a black oval barely half the size of the bow, smooth and black like a reflective egg.
The whole transformation looked pointless until she noticed movement on the front plates: They were folding. Every six-sided shape folded in half over itself, turning from a smooth almost-circle into a three-pointed prong, every sharp end aimed directly forward along the ship's flight path. Multiplied by thousands of hexagons across the hull it turned the ship from a smooth oval into a forest of thorns, layered dozens deep. Knives, ringing the hull, moving at hundreds of miles per second.
Jamet tried to imagine what getting hit by that would do and flinched, shying away from visions of eviscerated hulls and blown-out armor plates gouged all the way through. "Dead stars, what kind of attack strategy is that? For anything?"
"It's a swarm, lieutenant." Siers sounded just as uneasy as she did, but fascinated at the same time. "Each individual piece doesn't matter, just the whole. Every unit is sacrificial, but all of them are adapted to inflict maximum damage for every loss the swarm takes. Just a guess but those plates aren't single use weapons," highlights popped up on her screen, indicating the base of the folded-over hexes. "I think they're meant to come off. Like burrs stuck in skin; damage and an invasion board all at once."
"So they just... go through anything like a high speed saw?" Janson obviously didn't like the idea. His voice was the equivalent of a vocal frown. "An' even if they don't win, they leave behind boarding drones with those hexes? Who the hell would design something that horrible?"
"Corporate would." Jamet said it without a moment's hesitation. "If it was cost-effective enough to use? And could be somehow recovered afterward? They'd have fleets of these... no." She got a horrible feeling, goosebumps racing over bare skin. "You don't think?"
"No." Siers seemed very certain. "I would have heard of something like that. Especially on a scale that endangered entire systems at once. Anything like that I would have spent a great deal of time opposing. But at the same time it's- it's very familiar, somehow." His tone turned dreamlike, vague. "Like I have heard of or seen something like this. With someone, before."
Emilia's voice blasted everyone's ears. "Holy shit! Look! Look at the pansy!"
"Tulip?"
"Whatever!"
"Proper nomenclature is always... oh." Paul sounded surprised. "That is a rather beautiful thing. And somehow appropriate."
Jamet wasn't sure what everyone else was doing, but she couldn't look away from the leftmost callout. She watched with wide eyes, mouth open, throbbing arm and cold feet forgotten.
The Tulip was blooming.
Facing an army of jagged knives the ship opened like a deadly flower. Curved lines on the hull widened into long, tapered leaves that unfolded gracefully outwards to reveal more layers beneath. They in turn folded back as well, rotating slightly to fill outside gaps until the entire arrangement became a huge dish shape, cupped and held in miles-long, delicate looking streamers. Each broad leaf flexed in ways that defied metallic rigidness, aesthetically scolding the very idea of being held in one place.
The revealed interior was an immense flat disc of slowly undulating hull, hosting a single titanic column of pearlescent material, miles wide and long, aimed at the incoming swarm in deadly threat.
"That's a weapon." Jamet had never been more certain of anything in her life.
"Well no shit, Impossible! Unless it's about to breed that swarm with the universe's longest-"
"Comms, hush. If you haven't checked for radiation and energy signatures I think now would be a very good time to start. I think we're about to see what they can do."
On her left side callout the flower ship was brightening, leaves cupping slightly inward as light surged up every edge in a brilliant outline. The light writhed somehow, wavering like heat haze as the tip of every leaf gathered a huge ball of energy, then dipped all at once to touch the central column.
Jamet's screen whited out. She flinched sideways in shock. "Dead stars!" When it cleared the afterimage of an impossibly thick beam still lived on screen, wisps of white streamers coming off it like steam. At least a third of the swarm was gone: Struck completely out of existence by a thick line of living energy that arced across the system display at the speed of light. She stared in shock. "What the hell is it firing?!"
Siers answered her, sounding distracted and not completely engaged. "Plasma. It fired raw plasma, but the problem was in how to keep it focused. That was the issue, always was. Couldn't make it work. But who...?"
"Captain? What?" She looked at the comm link, concerned. "What was an issue?"
"It sure looked like plasma-- see the smoke-like stuff? That's spillage. Tachyons and strange particles lighting up from solar radiation." It was like someone gave Janson a particularly interesting puzzle. "Huge amount of energy output, wow. Think it's a one shot?"
"With a hit like that? Who would need a second blast? There'd be nothing left unless you shot a- I don't know! A planet or something!" Emilia audibly whooped. "That thing's going to take care of our whole problem, one BAZOWW at a time!"
Paul sounded thoughtful. "Tachyons. I wonder: Does that explain our imagery problem? From earlier? Does just having that weapon cause problems with time?"
Jamet caught movement on her display. "Heads up! It's not over!"
If the massive hit bothered the swarm they didn't show it. Light sparkled from thousands of glittering points as the formations angled out, then inwards, centered on the flower ship in a gliding wave of edges. They struck like a hurricane of metal, spraying pieces of broken units and shredded hexes in a fan of discarded fragments. Petals took long whip marks of damage, gouged deeper and deeper as every line of drones blurred by in a grinding torrent. Jamet watched in horror as an entire petal sheared off, struck off at the base and spinning away from the soundless conflict in a ten mile long curl of twisting color.
The ship shuddered in response, leaves slapping outward in motions that seemed languid but crossed hundreds of miles in seconds. The tail end of the drone swarm took the hit and smashed apart, becoming another spray of unguided debris.
But revenge cost the ship. "Look, at the petal!" Jamet wished like hell she could highlight something using only her feet. "Captain, you were right-- those hexes stick like burrs."
"I see it," he murmured back over the link. "That must be hundreds left behind every hit. But the question is how much continuing damage can they do? Is there anything beneath to even board?"
"I have a better question for everyone." Genuine worry seemed to pour over Emilia's voice. "Why is it getting that close at all to begin with? Look at the range on that shot! The ship probably could have sat outside the entire system and blasted things forever."
"Oh no." For the first time in the last few minutes Jamet was suddenly very, very conscious of where she was. It felt like putting on a wet shirt: Unexpected, cold and slightly worrying. "Um, Janson?"
"Ma'am?"
"That was a plasma shot, you said?" She looked down at the workspace, noting callouts for the singularity generator. And right next to those controls was an indicator for the other purpose of the smelter.
"Actually, cap'n said that. Ah just agreed. Pretty amazin' when you think about it, but why? What's wrong?"
"Because I think I know why it came in." She eyeballed the display, wishing for the ability to plot courses from a generic console. "Emilia, is it still on course? Still coming directly for me?"
"I... think so, yes? That's a worrying thought, you might want to get out of there. You know," she sighed. "If you could, I guess."
"Right. But captain-- I think I called it." She looked down at the controls for the smelting system, waiting patiently to be told to restart. "What are the odds the plasma bottle for the smelter looked enough like their ship drive to make them worry? And then when I turned it off..."
Siers groaned. "I get it, lieutenant. On sensor that would have looked like destruction."
"Ohhhh shit." Emilia sounded unhappy. "It's a momma bear."
On Jamet's console the fight continued, swarms of drones looping around like a sadistically augmented flight of birds against the flower ship's determined push. The Tulip fought back, smashing waves and getting shredded in return, but never varying from a course directly at the smelter.
"Well, shit." Was there another lifeboat? Could she jump for it, turn her earlier joke into reality? Would it matter?
"I think it's coming to save me."
submitted by Susceptive to HFY [link] [comments]

The question I asked my teacher to do, but no one knows what the right answer is. (I got 5.91 cm)

https://imgur.com/a/WzAUnsF
My math teacher tried it, and he struggled on it too.
Thank you for the help!
submitted by KingDXB to learnmath [link] [comments]

[REVIEW] Chanel Boy Old Medium, Black RHW from TS Mr. Gary (Xiao C Factory)

Pricing & Timeline

Photos

Quality (9.5/10)

I was pleasantly surprised by the quality and softness of the leather. I was informed this is sheepskin (not lamb, not calf) (-0.5). It is almost as delicate as my lambskin; actually I was unable to buff out one of the scratches from my nail. The bag came with no fufu smell, but when I put my nose against the leather it doesn't have that heavenly leather smell, it has a mix between a leather smell and a little bit of a factory smell. However, it does not smell when it is worn and I am confident that it will smell great in a couple of weeks. The chain has a good weight, it weighs 10.5oz. My LGHW chain from Xiao C weighs 11.2oz. My LGHW chain from OF weighs 10.9oz. Perhaps RHW is lighter? Does anyone know? Hardware looks and feels durable, the clasp opens and closes easily. The flap feels good and does not feel hard like my boy bag from Yoyo. The stitching is very clean, no loose stitches.

Accuracy (9.25/10)

Quilts look good, there are 7 quilts across. The quilts match up to the auth. The RHW tone looks decent, comparable to the auth and may age more over time. There is no piping issue, the clasp is placed directly on top of the piping. The snakehead is angled and I have no complaints here (the snakehead is one of the main things I look at when purchasing a Boy). The two balls on the strap are facing the correct way, but even if they weren't I can easily turn them 90 degrees. The screws under the flap are hexagon screws like the auth. There are 7 stitches per diamond. The last row of quilts in the back of my bag end at a half diamond, some of the auth are exactly like mine and some have an extra 2mm of quilt at the bottom.
Dimensions: 9.75 x 2.9 x 6, Fashionphile has it as 9.75 x 2.75 x 5.75, however I will not dock any points as the discrepancies are likely due to the person measuring (me!).
The shape of the bag is correct. The chains have a good weight, not as weighty as my shiny hardware, but it feels good. The CHANEL engraving on the sides are too thin, shallow, and spaced out and the font may be a bit too square. Deducting (-0.75), because it bothers me. The interior color is correct. The CHANEL MADE IN ITALY look good on this one (my other Boy from Xiao C was not bold enough). The color is black and is well saturated. My quilts are perfectly puffy, but they look puffier in the photos than in real life. The images on Chanel's website show less puffy quilts, but mine looks like the ones I've seen in the Chanel boutique.

Satisfaction (10/10)

I love this bag. I was surprised by how great it was even though it was cheaper than other boy bags from Xiao C. I think it is perfect except for the side engraving, which bothers me but unless someone is within 15 inches of my bag and my bag is sitting still, it is not noticeable. After 10 months of buying and selling a bunch of Boy bags in search for satisfaction, I am finally happy and my Boy collection is complete.
This bag came with full packaging - box, dust bag, gift bag, camelia flower, ribbon, booklets, authenticity card.

Seller Communication and Service (10/10)

Gary was great yet again. He was what I didn't know I needed in a seller. Prior to purchasing from Gary, I was totally happy with sellers who do not engage in any conversation; with the purchase just being just another transaction. After working with Gary, I really can't go back to that! He QCs the bags for you and will try to keep exchanging until he is satisfied.
submitted by sk843va to RepLadies [link] [comments]

Soundless Conflicts - 25

Navigation Destinations
« Back 25 Forward »
1-10 11-20 21-30
« Beginning End »
Burning Down The House
Emilia stood outside the Storage hatch with a flamethrower.
Well she called it a flamethrower, but over the helmet camera Jamet thought it looked more like a plasma welder taped to a pressurized aerosol bottle. Every now and then the camera would turn sideways and upward, focusing on the clearly worried expression of Paul, then face forward again. "Uhh, how long are we going to wait here?" Emilia managed to sound worried and irritated in equal amounts.
"I second that, lieutenant." Paul sounded just as nervous, although his tone made it harder to tell. She had his camera input on the left side of the screen away from Emilia's to avoid accidentally giving herself nausea. Every now and then the taller man's feed would turn downward to check on Emilia's tiny suited form, then check the heavy pry bar in his gloved hands. "The longer I stand here the less I like the idea."
Jamet tapped a console key. "I get it, sorry. But I don't think it'll be much longer. Janson, can you hear us? What's your status?"
The big man's baritone voice sounded smaller over an audio link. "Captain's authorizing the systems right now, ah can cut local gravity after that. You sure this will work?"
"Will it put our friends in storage to sleep? Actually, no. I'm not sure."
"Ma'am?"
"Engineer?"
"That would have been a great time to lie to me. Jus' saying." Something clicked over the line, then beeped. "That's got it. Everyone ready? Gravity cutting off in five, four..."
She checked the redundant buckles on her workstation, then gripped the edge of the console as the engineer finished his countdown. Right after 'one' it suddenly felt like the entire ship took a nosedive off a cliff, tossing her heart and stomach straight upwards in a horrible feeling of falling. Jamet closed both eyes and took deep breaths, focusing hard on squashing her body's automatic panic reflex. At least she wasn't alone: On screen both cameras twitched wildly as Paul and Emilia fought the sudden urge to freak out under weightlessness.
"Gah! Hate that feeling! Makes me want to throw up every time." A small gloved hand gripped the edge of the hatch like a lifeline. "Paul, hanging in there?" Low gagging sounds floated over suit speakers. "Guess not. Alright, moment of truth here." Emilia's feed slowly floated upwards until her helmet pressed to the inset hatch window.
Inside main storage was a brightly lit, chaotic mess. With gravity off everything knocked loose from the bins floated through the air in long streamers, bouncing off each other and the racks in whirling displays. The back wall was especially bad, spare parts and pieces of random tools nearly obscuring everything from view. But after a few moments of watching Emilia tapped the plexi. "There, I see it. Them? It? They?"
Jamet enlarged the display and squinted, eyes tracking warily across the image. Moving pieces slowly resolved into a large series of hexagons, stuck haphazardly to the walls and upper parts of the storage racks. There were four of them she could see, each as big as her outstretched arms and fuzzy with attached triangular drones. Limp cables drifted through the air, slowly revolving around inert metallic figures that spun and tumbled with leftover momentum. A small river of drones trailed upward, caught in the middle of pulling materials towards the overhead Environmental vents.
After nearly a minute without any movement, Jamet keyed the channel open. "I think they're asleep. Or unpowered. Do you think it's safe to open the hatch?"
"Not really," Paul sounded like a man trying to swallow and talk at the same time. "I doubt any of this is safe. Emilia?" His camera alternated between laser-focus through the window to pointed at the top of her white-colored skinsuit helmet.
"No idea. But I'm willing to give it a try." Her view floated downward, then centered on the hatch controls. "Popping it now."
It felt like the entire comm link held their breath as the hatch whooshed out of view. Emilia held the cobbled-together flamethrower at arms-length, pointed in the general direction of the hexagons.
Nothing moved. Actually, everything moved. But not intentionally.
"Alright, going in. Gonna see how they react to getting flamed." Her POV pushed off, gliding forward gracefully from handhold to handhold as she crossed the room.
Janson popped onto the link, sounding worried. "You remember about the fire, right?"
The camera bobbed once, up and down. "Yeah, I got it. Paul, you're right behind me? Don't leave me if this gets bad. I'm about to light it up." One hand came into the camera angle, grabbing hard onto an upright storage pole to anchor. The other aimed the fat aerosol container at the nearest hexagon cluster, then firmly jammed the button on top. A thick stream of gel shot from the nozzle, tacky chemicals keeping the stream together until it struck the hexagons as a thick goo. Emilia carefully hosed the entire surface down, taking a moment to make sure a lot got into the interior. "Alright, here goes."
Making sure no part of the hanging gel stream was near her hand, Emilia held the plasma welder out and triggered it. Instantly the entire mass caught fire with a hissing blast of flame that blossomed into a spherical explosion, yellow and red globes reaching in every direction. Emilia's camera flinched away as she shouted. "Damn, you weren't joking!"
"Were you too close?" Janson sounded worried. "Fire in zero-G is dangerous, goes in every direction."
The POV kicked back farther, putting a storage rack between the flames and her suit. "Nah, I'm okay. But it was close, had me scared for a bit. Paul, you see anything moving?"
Jamet switched to watching Paul's feed. He was higher up, near the ceiling looking down. "No, nothing moving." He swung the pry bar around one-handed, using the long metal pole to poke at the burning remains. Broken and melted drones slowly spun off, revealing an interior hot enough to spit little balls of cooling metal into the air. Melting strands of electronic slag drifted on thermal expansion. "Can you get the other pods, then switch to the ducts?"
She watched from the console as Paul got to work breaking up the flaming hexagon, using his bar to smash anything that looked like it might still be functional. Emilia tagged off with him, drifting forward to apply more gel accelerant when it looked like the flames might die out. Occasionally she used the plasma tip more directly, slicing off tightly-coupled drones wherever he couldn't get the bar between their cables.
Everything seemed to be going well. Suspiciously well, actually. Jamet pulled up an overlay of the Kipper's Environmental ducts near the storage area. "Paul, quick check of the Enviro lockouts? I don't see any alerts."
His camera stopped moving for a couple seconds, then got back to work. "Nothing setting off alerts here. Reactor vents are at zero tamper notices as well. If everything goes well we will move there next."
"Alright. I'm going to stop looking over your shoulder, but if absolutely anything happens..."
"You will be the first to know." Paul sounded amused. Nauseous, but definitely amused.
Emilia's POV lit up orange and red again. "We'll beat it so fast you won't believe it. We're fine, Impossible, go smack down your Corpo."
Jamet snorted, which was an unusual experience without gravity because everything stuck in her sinuses. With a grimace of distaste she killed the visual feeds, minimizing them off the workspace to avoid the distraction. "Janson, I'm cutting comms with you to focus on this. Are you going to be okay?"
"Ah'm fine, but thanks. Just going to stay here for a bit an' listen to them work, just in case they need help."
"Alright." Tap, click. "Captain, I'm about to call our friend on the habitation ring. Any last minute changes?" She frowned at her gloved hands, wondering why they seemed so jittery. Zero-G, probably.
"Go ahead, lieutenant. Do you want me to listen in or stay off the channel entirely?"
"Oh." That was... quite an offer. And a hell of a show of trust. "Would you be okay not listening in, sir? I didn't want you to think I was cutting deals or anything. I can record the whole thing if-"
She could almost see the sardonic grin as he cut in. "It's fine. Actually, change that-- record the conversation, if you please. It might be useful evidence later on. But I'm not worried about you backdoor dealing." Something whirred in the background, then clanged. "I trust you."
Which stirred up something bitter in her recent memory. A voice, low and husky, deep with personal confidence and enjoyable physical afterglow: Trust me, J. She could hear the gentle music in the background, taste sweet wine and the excitement of the moment. It felt so real, so possible. We can do this. Together. Come with me to Upper. And then that final nail in the coffin, the secret hope too good to be true: Be my partner.
Her hands hurt from gripping the console in rage. She blinked away the memory, deliberately letting go and brushing away traitorous tears. They held in the air like glittering diamonds, evidence of pointless anger that took a careful swipe to knock away. But it still took several long, deep breaths before her heartbeat stopped pounding hard enough to blur her vision.
Jamet tapped the comms key, proud of how level her voice was through a closed up throat. "I appreciate that, Captain. Signing off now, I need a moment to put myself together for this talk."
"Take your time. Janson tells me we still have half a day of deceleration ahead; assuming we can clear Storage I'm going to order everyone down for a rest cycle as well. Make sure we're not tired and making mistakes."
"Good idea. Alright, sir-- signing off."
Click, tap.
Alone on the bridge, Jamet carefully unbuckled the harness and drifted away from the co-CEO console. A soft kick against the seat sent her upwards, rebounding off the overheads with a practiced push that angled her back downward into the CEO area. Snagging the straps, she pulled herself into the seat and buckled in, settling back on the chair with a sigh and closed eyes.
It felt good. Almost too good: Like revisiting a childhood dream and finding it just as wonderful as before. The Command Executive Officer station was a staple of every ship, always raised slightly over everything else in the bridge. Supposedly it was to give the CEO direct sight to everyone's consoles... but realistically it was more about perception and authority. Whoever took this spot, took the ship. It wasn't Corporate Navy; not quite. But the feeling was the same, a throwback to when she still had ambitions and the drive to fulfill them. Before she'd given up the Navy for a lateral move into Middle Management and a tumble into ignominy.
Jamet fell into that emotion, mentally dropping back and downward into herself until she landed at the person she was nearly a year ago. It was a tough fit: She'd changed since then and knew it, could feel the parts that didn't fit into the Corporate mold any more. She was a lumpy, heart-shaped peg trying to convince herself to be sharp and jagged again.
Cupping hands together, Jamet rested her chin across both thumbs and closed her eyes. Mentally she gathered everything about the crew-- Janson's bearded grin, Emilia's struggle to trust, Paul's cautious oversharing, Siers' quiet confidence-- and put it away. Locked it in a box where she couldn't think about it. Empathy wouldn't help for this: Executives didn't have any.
It took a long five minutes, but she found that old Jamet again. Ruthless, hungry, casually dismissive. Management.
She wristed the console to life, dragging open Communications and selecting broadcast with sharp, angry motions. Her workspace lit up with a selection of frequencies, jumping bars showing which ones were actively in use. Jamet selected all of them at once, then set broadcast power on maximum to blot them out of existence with her signal. Whatever petty talks they were engaging in was unimportant now; they'd listen to her or else.
The channel clicked open. She had the whole band to herself.
Jamet spoke into the air with a voice colder than the space between stars and more bored than an immortal buried under mountains. "Material Extraction Station Fortune's Find: This is Executive Reals, commanding Fiscal Recovery Vessel Kipper. Cease all activity at once and surrender. Do not attempt to hide, we have pinpointed several dozen active transmissions and know your whereabouts. Do not attempt to sabotage, steal or repurpose any equipment-- doing so will be met with extreme mortal sanctions. You have five minutes to respond on any channel with a designated representative for forceful employment."
This prepared speech was the brainchild of nearly an hour's careful wording, every phrase crafted to inspire maximum Executive fear. The keystone to this threat was rebranding the Kipper as an authorized vessel of Corporate Headquarter's Fiscal Recovery division.
FR dealt with reacquiring assets from loss, damage or negligent mismanagement. They were the gleaners, the threshers, old-style carrion eaters crawling the remains of Corporate battlefields between every system. Recovery-branded agents held extremely wide latitude of authority when it came to reclaiming any and all property no matter what form it took: Raw ore, infrastructure pieces, natural resources... and most especially trained personnel.
They were the complimentary division of Fiscal Enforcement, the strongarm branch that showed up after everything went wrong to see what was valuable enough to salvage. Anything with a monetary value that wasn't in extremely small pieces became immediate property of the agency, adding to HQ's bottom line.
If Recovery showed up it was because everything (and everyone) around was already considered a loss. Which put any Executive still around on extremely thin ice, robbed of any authority in a heartbeat.
Jamet kept a bored gaze on the clock, timing out five minutes while imagining what had to be happening aboard the habitation ring. For sure their Executive was doing everything physically possible to get her people off their skinsuit communications devices-- the absolute last thing she needed was underlings cutting deals or giving information behind her back. That was the point of broadcasting to everyone: Giving the Exec something to panic about immediately.
It was also a foregone conclusion that a standoff was going down somewhere over there, abused workers versus their Management tormentor. Which was the other reason for claiming to be from Fiscal Recovery: If the Kipper flew in and announced they were rescuing everyone there would have been an immediate (and very, very bloody) comeuppance against the Exec as she lost all power at once. But broadcasting as Recovery changed the game, levelling the field: Now everyone had the exact same asset value, but their Executive might have enough personal pull to be able to leverage a better position for the group.
But her bargaining chips became the workers, alive and retaining asset value. She suddenly had to care very, very much about the health of her people.
Jamet would have laughed at the reversal, but that would require more perspective taking than she cared about.
The clock tipped past three minutes. When explaining this plan to Captain Siers he expressed a lot of surprise about the five minute timeline. "Why such a short time limit? It seems like if something went wrong they wouldn't be able to meet it. Won't that backfire?"
She'd grinned, delighted to explain game moves to a novice. "No, it's fine-- that's actually the point. Think about what happens if we give them something like a day to think it over." She pointed around the bridge, singling out a surprised Janson. "The engineer over here starts having second thoughts, maybe he talks a bit with comms," Emilia took a pointed finger. "They get together with Environmental and suddenly there's a power bloc. A strong group out for themselves. Meanwhile the Execs," Jamet pointed to herself and Siers. "Are trying to cut deals for their own advantage while fighting this new, upstart faction at the same time. It's a mess. Nothing gets done."
Siers looked skeptical. "And a five minute deadline stops that?"
"Yeah." She thought about it and frowned. "Well unless someone knew that was about to happen and preplanned. But that's unlikely in this case. Anyways," the dismissed the idea with a casual wave. "With such a short time to decide everyone just rolls with the established decision makers. The Exec will call the shots, get things moving, then promise the world to her people to prevent them from going back on the deal."
Numbers clicked over, becoming four minutes. Jamet felt smug. "Any moment now..."
"Fiscal Recovery vessel Kipper, this is Upper Management Executive Rachel Targer. I am the ranking member of the Fortune's Find and be aware: We have not ceded this station or its assets to any branch of Corporate, local or otherwise. I demand to know the name of your supervisor."
Over the last year Jamet Reals knew what it felt like to be dragged down. To be taken advantage of, kicked off every opportunity, pushed out and penalized for anything and everything. Doors slammed in her face, allies and friends turning against her, spitefully denied every opportunity. She'd been on the edge of oblivion or worse, taken there by a system she'd upheld and participated in at every turn.
And after all that time, all that struggle and hopelessness, every rage- and tear-filled night alone hunting for any position at all...
It was all worth it.
Jamet grinned like a shark, every tooth standing out in violent promise as she tapped the broadcast key. "You're speaking to her, Ms. Targer."
submitted by Susceptive to HFY [link] [comments]

Lunar Mysteries [MEGA THREAD + PICTURES]

Lunar Mysteries [MEGA THREAD + PICTURES]
by Rick-AngelOfThyNight
from ParanormalGhostSociety Website

Our Moon roughly 239,000 miles away and roughly the size of the USA around 2000 miles in diameter and is still one of the biggest mysteries of all time.
Anybody can view it in there telescope and anybody can occasionally spot anomalies of unknown origin. Nobody knows what's on the dark side of the moon but if the lighter side of the moon has buildings, cities, structures then its quite probable that the dark side contains the same thing.
What got me into the moon as a kid is how large and yellow it looked one time popping over some railroad tracks then later when I was about 19 I found a photo with a structure that looked like a ship on the moon or barge.
There is a lot of speculation that the moon landings were faked because it was a way to end the cold war between the countries of course there are many sites that explain that out there but mainly what I want to cover is the moon itself.
Where did it come from? Why is there so many craters? What are these structures?
First of all some say the moon came from earth it was a part of it and broke off I find this hard to believe since the Moon is spherical shaped not like an asteroid space rock.
I mean we all know that planets have moons some are almost like worlds of their own.
My theory is though that our moon was not always near earth unlike other moons. I believe our moon may have been bombarded somewhere else in our galaxy and so it traveled slowly and millions of years later it got caught in the earths gravitational field. The other theory I may have is that the moon is a base of some kind that is a disguise. Can you imagine what this could serve for a species of aliens?
Millions of them could live underground or on the surface or possibly did at one time. But see here is the scenario earth is close to the moon, earth is close to Mars both seem to have structures on it?
Why? simple we are being watched or civilizations that started off on the moon possibly started life on earth. Lets say the moon had water and an atmosphere lets say it was bombarded by a huge asteroid storm then its possible that the civilization on the moon fled to earth. If you refer to my Cydonia and Ancient mystery pages it will help you better understand our past and some extraterrestrial origins etc.
The moon plays a big part for this planet it changes the tides, lights up the night sky's and even is said to change our moods. Another possibility for its many craters is that since it already has no atmosphere nothing can burn up when it hits the moon. As far as the structures on the moon they look like buildings, ships, cities, canals things of that sort. Some of them exist in the craters themselves which means that they had to be built after the moons fate because any asteroid would pretty much obliviate anything it hits.
In theory I think aliens are on the moon, I think there was a civilization connected to mankind somehow on the moon and I think alot more remains to be seen. Ask yourself this why do we never go back to our moon if we already been there? Why do we not collect more data, check out the dark side, get more rocks, explore some of the moons caves, dig in the moons ground etc after all out moon is very large. I believe half of the mystery of this planet at least one half of it exist on the moon.
Therefore it remains a mystery.

The Spaceship Moon Theory In July 1970, two Russian scientists offered a bizarre theory of the origins of the moon. Michael Vasin and Alexander Scherbakov published an article in the Soviet journal Sputnik entitled "Is the moon a creation of alien intelligence?"
The Soviet scientists put forward the belief that the moon is not a completely natural world but a planetoid, hollowed out eons ago in the far reaches of space. Huge machines were used to melt rock and form large cavities within the moon, spewing the molten refuse onto the surface. Protected by a hull-like inner shell plus a reconstructed outer shell of metallic rocky junk, this gigantic craft was steered through the cosmos and finally parked in orbit around our earth.
The theory was re-vitalized in 1975 with the publication of Our Mysterious Spaceship Moon by Don Wilson. He stated that,
"Too many pieces of evidence seem to fit to reject the theory without investigation."
There is even tantalizing evidence that in the dim recesses of human memory there have been recollections of a time before the arrival of the moon. Aristotle told of a people who lived in Arcadia, a mountainous region in Central Greece, long before the coming of the Greeks. The Greek term Proscelene means before the moon. In Tibetan texts there are stories of a people on a lost continent called Gondwana, said to be civilized before the moon shone in the night sky.
Bolivian symbols have been interpreted by Dr. P. Allen as records that a satellite came into orbit around the Earth about 11,500 to 13,000 years ago.
Where did the moon come from? As there is very little similarity between the moon and earth, the old theory that the moon broke off our planet and ended up in its orbit can be discounted.
It is well accepted that the moon originated in other parts of the universe before moving into the earths orbit. Author and science expert, Isaac Asimov believed that the moon was too large to have been captured by our orbit. The orbit of the moon itself is also enigmatic. It is a perfect circle and stationary, with only one side being exposed to earth. As far as we know, the moon is the only natural satellite with such an orbit.
Author and expert on the ancient Sumerian civilization, Zecharia Sitchin also had an interest in the moon. Our mysterious satellite has caused much argument among scientists with respect to its age and origin (Go to our moon mysteries page for more information).
Sitchin wrote in his book Genesis Revisited (1990), some answers are provided if we go back to the Sumerian cosmology. The assertion here is that the moon originated not as a satellite of Earth but the much larger planet, Tiamat, which is placed beyond Mars.
The Sumerian cosmology describes an unstable solar system caused by emerging gravitational forces disturbing planetary balance and causing moons to grow disproportionately. According to the Sumerians, one of the eleven moons of Tiamat grew to an unusual size. and proved to be increasingly disruptive to the other planets. It was named 'Kingu'.
In an ensuing celestial battle, Tiamat was split in two; one half was shattered; the other half, accompanied by Kingu, was thrust into a new orbit to become the Earth and its moon.
The mystery of the lunar eclipse? Why is it that the moon is just the right distance from the earth to completely cover the sun during an eclipse?
While the diameter of the moon is a mere 2,160 miles against the sun's gigantic 864,000 miles, it is never the less in just the proper position to block out the suns corona when it moves between the sun and earth. Isaac Asimov explains, "there is no reason why the moon and the sun should fit so well.
It is the sheerest of coincidences, and only the Earth is among all the planets blessed in this fashion.
The moon older than the earth and sun? It is believed that the moon could possibly be older than the earth and sun. Scientists have dated some moon rocks as billions of years old. Some have been dated back as far as 4.5 billion years.
Scientists nowadays accept the moon to be 4.6 billion years old.
Harvard's respected astronomy journal, Sky and Telescope, reported that at a lunar conference in 1973 dated a lunar rock as 5.3 billion years old which would make it almost a billion years older than our planet.
Titanium and rust proof rocks! Scientists found that the crushed up rocks on the moon is of another world.
Analysis has shown that the moon rocks are of a completely different composition to the soil around them. Some of the rocks gathered by a Soviet mission in 1970 were resistant to rusting. This is not a feature of any metal known to man and years ahead of our technology.
The moon has three distinct layers of rocks. Contrary to the idea heavier rocks sink, the heavier rocks are found on the surface.
Stated Don Wilson,
"The abundance of titanium and other refractory elements in the surface areas is so pronounced that several geo-chemists proposed that refractory compounds were bought to the moon's surface in great quantity in some unknown way. That this was done cannot be questioned. These materials which are usually concentrated towards the interior of a world are now on the outside."
Earl Ubel, who was a former science director for CBS Television added to the mystery by stating that,
"The first layer (20 miles deep), consists of lava-like material similar to lava flows on Earth. The second, extending down to 50 miles, is made up of somewhat denser rock. The third, continuing to a depth of at least 80 miles and probably below, appears to be of a heavier metal, similar to the Earth's mantle."
Many of the rock samples discovered on the moon have also been found to be magnetized. It has been suggested that this is due to their exposure to the magnetism present on earth.
Others have rebutted this claim by arguing that if such an influence was placed on the moon, the earths magnetism would have caused the destruction of the moon and its orbit many millions of years ago.
Huge disk shaped objects located beneath the moons lava seas! The moon has large seas of smooth molten rock. Known as 'maria', four fifths of these are on the Earth-side hemisphere. In the centre of these maria, huge disk-shaped objects have been detected lying 20 to 40 miles below the surface.
The objects are referred to as 'mascons' and they are said to be located like a bulls-eye at the centre of the marias. The mascons were first discovered because their density distorted the orbits of objects flying over or near them.
Some scientists have theorized that the mascons are heavy iron ore meteorites that plunged into the moon when it was in a soft and formable state.

Volcanic activity on the moon?
In 1963 astronomers at the Lowell Observatory saw a reddish glow on the crests of the ridges in the Aristarchus region.
This was after a similar glow and gaseous explosions were photographed by Russian astronomer Nikolay A. Kozyrev in 1958. Other observatories also reported red glow. Although the moon is deemed to be volcanically dead it seems that there is certainly something creaking in its interior.
Seismographic equipment left at six separate sites on the moon by the Apollo missions picked up a great deal of activity until it ceased operating in 1977.
Operation Moonblink
In the early nineteenth century, Sir John Herschel in England saw unidentified lights on the moon during an eclipse and noted that some of the lights appeared to be moving above the moon.
Other astronomers of the period also reported seeing a geometrical pattern of lights that resembled city streets. In the mid 1960's NASA established the operation to investigate many strange flashes of light over the moon. The space association had received reports of many extraordinary lunar events.
In 1959 a dark object had been observed hovering over the moon for two hours. On July 29, John O'Neill observed a nineteen kilometer long bridge strabbling the crater Mare Crisium. One month later famous British astronomer Dr H. Wilkins verified the sighting.
In the twelve months to September 1966, Operation Moonblink had detected 28 unusual lunar events.
In 1968 an obelisk shaped object was discovered. This became known as the 'Shard'. The object rose nearly two and a half kilometers above the Urkert area of the moon's surface, which rises more than eight kilometers from the Sinus Medii region.
No known natural process can explain the structure.
Is the moon hollow?
There are many indications that the moon is hollow.
The moon's mean density- about 3.34 grams per cubic centimeter is significantly less than the 5.5 gram density of the earth's mantle. This density indicates that the moon may not have a core.
The most starling evidence came on November 20 1969, when the Apollo 12 crew, after returning to their command ship, sent the lunar module ascent stage crashing down back on to the moon, creating an artificial earthquake. The crash site was 40 miles from where the astronauts had left their seismic devices. The ultra sensitive equipment recorded the moon ringing like a bell for more almost forty minutes. The vibration took almost eight minutes to reach a peak and then diminished in intensity.
This ringing was repeated when the Apollo 13's third stage fell to the lunar surface, striking with the equivalent of eleven tons of TNT. According to NASA, this time the moon reacted like a gong.
Although seismic equipment was 108 miles from the crash site, recordings showed reverberations lasted for three hours and twenty minutes and traveled to a depth of twenty-two to twenty-five miles. Subsequent studies of man-made crashes yielded similar results. After one impact the moon reverberated for four hours.
On March 13, 1972, a large meteorite struck the moon with the equivalent off 200 ton of TNT. After sending shockwaves deep into the interior of the moon, scientists were baffled to find that none returned, concerning there is something unusual about the moon's core.
It seems the moon has a tough outer shell but a light, or non-existent interior.
Lunar Life or Transient Phenomena?
The Moon is far from being an inert and lifeless world.
Many centuries of observation have noted occurencies on the lunar surface which take the form of glows, mists, flashes and similar illuminations. They have become more popularly described as Lunar Transient Phenomena (LTP), thanks to noted astronomer Patrick Moore who coined the phrase. It largely encompasses all such recorded signs of activity now generally thought to be volcanic in nature.
Ancient peoples throughout the world held the moon and its periodic eclipses in awe and for many it was a source of worship. From this sprang numerous intriguing myths and legends, including the notion firmly held by many Greeks that this small neighbor of Earth's was inhabited also. Lucian of Samosata, although Syrian, was a widely regarded Greek satirist and lyracist.
He first wrote of his travels to that "great country in the air" in a published work entitled: 'True History'.
Although more fiction that fact, it told the tale of a voyage in a sailing ship carried aloft by a whirlwind to the moon and a subsequent meeting with its inhabitants; claimed to be much like those of Earth.
In 1516 Lodovico Ariosto wrote an epic poem in which the theme was a lunar trip by way of "firie chariet". The astronomer Johannes Kepler, who published his famous 'Laws of Planetary Motion' between 1609 and 1618, also wrote 'Dream'; a book full of fantasies and visions based on the science of the day that included the idea of moon-dwellers. It was in the same year, 1634, that Lucian of Samosata's original work was first published in England.
Now the idea of life on other worlds was beginning to form in earnest and Bishop Francis Godwin pursued this theme four years later when he wrote: 'The Man in the Moon'. It recorded the adventures of a fictitious Spaniard, Domingo Gonzales, who trained large birds for an eventful trip that was to take him eleven days. So popular was this and other stories that moon voyages appeared in over 200 published accounts during the 17th century.
Moon-men were an emerging breed and their strange world was to become the object of increasing interest and speculation. It led to respected astronomers such as Sir William Herschel devoting much of their time to observing the lunar surface.
He himself recorded on two consecutive nights in April, 1787 three bright white spots on the earth-lit side of the moon which he concluded could only have been volcanoes. In 1822 German astronomer Franz von Paula Gruithuisen announced he had discovered a "lunar city" possessing "dark gigantic ramparts". These were to be identified later as consisting of nothing more than haphazard surface ridges.
It was shrewd American news reporter Richard Lock who became the first person to recognize an opportunity for personal fame and fortune, when in 1835 he successfully duped the New York Sun and its readership. In August that year the newspaper was to publish the first of his amazing accounts alleging that Sir John Herschel, son of William, was using a revolutionary new lunar telescope at a site in Southern Africa and through it had observed goat-like creatures ambling about on the moon's surface.
The tale gradually unfolded during the next week as successive editions of the Sun carried ever-more colorful descriptions of flora and fauna, also islands, rivers, birds and beasts. Meanwhile, poor Herschel remained oblivious to these events.
Lock possessed a nifty turn-of-phrase and capitalized on the limitations imposed on communications in the early 19th century. He milked it for all he was worth while the hoax continued, first ensnaring rival newspapers and then even eminent scientists on both sides of the Atlantic.
Readers avidly absorbed every word and were captivated by flowery descriptions of great works supposedly wrought on the lunar surface, such as this:
"A lofty chain of obelisk-shaped or very slender pyramids standing in irregular groups, each composed of about thirty or forty spires, every one of which was perfectly square."
Lock crowned his literary achievement one week later by introducing into the narrative a colorful report of the lunar inhabitants.
These hairy winged creatures were said to be four feet in height and "covered, except on the face, with short and glossy copper-colored hair, lying snugly on their backs. The face, which was of a yellowish flesh-color, was a slight improvement upon that of an orang-outang."
A rival newspaper subsequently exposed the whole things as being a hoax, although it took until mid-September before the Sun newspaper, who became willing partners in the deception, grudgingly owned up to it. Herschel for his part was to learn of this duplicity some time later and continued his observations at the Cape apparently somewhat amused at the claims and following furor in both America and Europe.
Lunar observers such as W.H.Pickering spent many years at the turn of this century mapping what he himself often described as "canals" present on the moon's seemingly ever-changing landscape. These maze of lines were observed to intersect mysterious dark spots, much in the manner of those more famous Martian canals which had been recoded by Shiaparelli and announced to the world in 1877.
Pickering went on to claim that he had identified vegetation, along with "river-beds" and active volcanoes, or geysers. From his vantage point in the hills of Jamaica during 1919-24 the astronomer believed he was witness to the migratory passage of small insects or animals, in their leisurely traversing of the area around the moon's Eratosthenes crater.
Throughout the last 200 years many lunar observers have reported witnessing the brief appearance of inexplicable mists, cloud-like shapes, glows and flashes on a seemingly lifeless gray world. Walter H.Haas, who wrote in 1942 that Sir William Herschel's white spots on the moon might have been the impact flare of a large meteorite, himself observed a "milky luminosity" present on the wall of the crater Tycho.
Astronomer F.H.Thornton reported seeing "a puff of whitish vapour obscuring details for some miles," one February night in 1949.
That same year, Spanish engineer Sixto Campo seriously promoted the theory that a technologically advanced civilization had once waged nuclear war against itself on the lunar surface. Annihilation followed swiftly for all he claimed and the resulting craters remain as testament to the holocaust on a now dead world. However, red glows continue to be observed in the region of the moon's north pole and blue misty glows have been periodically noted near craters at the south pole.
Russian astronomer N.A.Kozyrev, has recorded via spectrograms numerous incidents of red transient lunar phenomena, particularly in the 80-mile wide crater known as Alphonsus. It was at this location in 1965 that the final Ranger probe 9 crash-landed.
Aristarchus is not only one of the brightest formations on the moon, it is responsible for more than half the number of reported TLP and has been a proven source for gaseous emissions.
Strange Lunar Shadows By JJ The first of the two mysterious incidents I’ve chosen happened on the night of 3 July 1882. For 45 minutes the residents of Lebanon, Connecticut, were treated to a bizarre lunar display:
“Two pyramidal luminous protuberances appeared on the moon’s upper limb. They were not large, but gave the moon a look strikingly like that of a horned owl... . These points were a little darker than the rest of the moon’s face. They slowly faded away a few moments after their appearance, the one on the right...disappearing first.
About three minutes after their disappearance two black triangular notches were seen on the...lower half of the moon. These points gradually moved toward each other along the moon’s edge, and seemed to be...obliterating nearly a quarter of its surface, until they finally met, when the moon’s face assumed its normal appearance.”
The “pyramidal luminous protuberances” bring to mind the “strange pyramid of light” seen in 1519.
I also noted similarities in the Sunday Telegraph’s report [30 July 2000] that, on 18 June,
“two large triangular objects were seen flying over Charlesville-Mézières and Villers-Semeuse in eastern France. They made a loud, strange engine noise and swooped down to roof height.
They had metallic bars beneath the engines, with lights at either end. Half an hour earlier and about 200 miles...south-west, Thierry Garnier was... on the outskirts of Gasny when he saw a strong white luminous flash approaching from the east.”
Were these two events connected? Were they the triangular UFOs I wrote about in Into the Triangle and Beyond...?
I can’t believe, though, that the military would’ve risked flying aircraft so low over urban areas. But would aliens have had such a fit of bravado either? Do the three incidents from different centuries [especially the flashes and fading - think of the Back To The Future films] suggest time travel or a ‘time warp’?
It’s been said that, what passes for years or even centuries in Earth time, in alien terms may only be a matter of days, weeks or months. This would explain sightings of certain UFO types, such as these triangles, the Flying Wheels, ‘cigars’, etc, from ancient times onwards. Maybe they’re even the same craft and navigators!
The second occurrence took place on 27 January 1912, and was witnessed by Dr. F.B. Harris:
“At 10:30 Eastern time I was surprised to see the left cusp showing the presence of an intensely black body about 250 miles long and 50 wide, allowing 2000 miles from cusp to cusp,...in shape like a crow poised.
Of course dark places are here and there on the lunar surface, but not like this... . I will say every effort was made to eliminate any error of vision or other mistake... The moon is very tricky... I cannot but think that a very interesting and curious phenomenon has happened.”
But what was it?
Well... apparently there exists a high quality photo [1950s or 1960s, I think] of a vast starship flying over the Moon, snapped by an astronomer.
It is said to be an intergalactic craft, several miles long, and capable of carrying thousands at a time! If anyone has any further info, please let me know. An image would be great!!

Some Astounding Lunar Anomaly Images
Below you will find some of the lunar anomalies. These are collected from NASA, Clementine, Hoagland and some other famous sourced. Some of these photos were taken from the Apollo missions from space, others taken from Satellite.
I want you to put things into perspective and think about these images after viewing them.
They are real NASA feared releasing them because most people would be shocked to find that life did exist on the moon Keep an open-mind these anomalies do not necessary mean they are alien in nature the Nazis were said to have bases on the moon
Consider this other most of the anomalies are glass since they give off reflections.
Most of the anomalies are HUGE. The bridge is said to be 12 miles, the shard tower is said to be 1.5 miles high and there is said to be cities near mountain ranges the size of LA. These are not camera tricks we are viewing here. There is said to be over 400 unexplained anomalies found on the moon that's enough to show me something is or once existed there.
A photograph of astronaut Alan Bean shows the photographer, Pete Conrad, reflected in Bean's helmet visor. Also reflected in the visor is a "geometric object" hanging several feet above the lunar surface. Also visible is the shadow created by this object.
The object seems to be suspended in a "grid" of surrounding glass-like structure!
The Castle
This strange object, photographed during an Apollo mission, has been named "the castle" by Hoagland.
It seems to have a definite structure, like the remnant wall of some ancient building. The bottom looks as if it has rows of support columns, above which is a high spire. Whatever it is, it's much brighter than the surrounding landscape.

https://preview.redd.it/mqz0vims2ce61.jpg?width=400&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=90cf78100ea8bc8a7223119ff5cc614a6fb0acdd
  • Is it just a trick of light and shadow?
  • A photographic anomaly?
  • Or is it all that remains of some rich Martian's get-away retreat

https://preview.redd.it/lzcjtbnu2ce61.jpg?width=200&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=86305b75d5597c47234621360e9d6c3478f19322
This unusual donut-shaped crater is found in orbit 150 Notice the symmetrical objects that flank the opening on the left side of the crater, and the bullseye-like inner crater, which contains two bright objects in the lower part.
April 20, 1972 Lunar Surface NASA Apollo 16 photo An elongated, glowing white, cigar shaped craft hovering over a crater - or simply a reflection?
This photo was taken by Apollo-16 just before the April 20, 1972 landing on the Moon. Down left you see the metallic foot of the Lunar Lander. This was taken by Neil Armstrong some say its a shadow but it does show something very solid and long.


NASA photo AS16-120-19238

The next is possibly the Castle Again but this time in the reflection of the helmet.
The object is casting a shadow and is above the ground so either its off in the distance or its something hovering. The castle is said to be a 7 mile large structure. Click below image, a thesis of the artifact and better photo.

https://preview.redd.it/klc90qvz2ce61.jpg?width=531&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=80a773262c4cef68f493776214dcb26dc0d74214

Below images show the UFO's one was caught when Apollo was approaching the moon the other was a strange glowing ball of light when Armstrong was walking on the moon.
Moonlights are not uncommon but clearly one of these UFO's does show a disc or saucer like object near the moon to the left.

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The thumbnails below are the shard one of the most compelling of all photos I think. It shows a tower like object rising high above the surface. The shard was taken at many angles and still the same results.
The shard is said to be made of glass and about 1.5 miles high. Its also said to contain a symmetrical cubical structure. What's it for we may never know it could be a building, a communications tower but this thing is huge based on how far away the photo was taken from.

https://preview.redd.it/ougkrwn63ce61.png?width=890&format=png&auto=webp&s=86dd8d821d92b48553048e50f5791d2796ab4581
Below is a supposed moon base its unknown do not know where this came from but it seems authentic.


Below is the bridge said to be 12 miles in length but as you can see now this is clear this spans over a bridge. This is not a natural phenomena this bridge was purposely made.

https://preview.redd.it/ij7ynh3c3ce61.png?width=607&format=png&auto=webp&s=c1c3ff18f1f1d3f8352abbb4b390ac745cd6251d
Domes such as these (below images) are found all over the moon said to be made of glass. Notice how much lighter they are in color these are not natural structures one of them has a flat roof.

https://preview.redd.it/1chq880g3ce61.png?width=1410&format=png&auto=webp&s=828a4d6c768cc2d61d6b5f2ec10cca8ab6ff6cad


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Above is the Ukert Crater notice the triangular shape to it.
On the moon there were a few craters that were shaped in triangles, pentagons, hexgons etc almost like there is some sort of craft sitting in them.
The image below scares me. I get vibrations off this one more then any other photo. Its a face very human to but looks to be that of an older lady. The thing about it that makes me believe its real is there is a nose, eyes, chin, many strong features which is far to great to be some natural formation.
Why would the astronaut take a photo of these rocks if this did not have some symbolic meaning?

https://preview.redd.it/t8y6y9rr3ce61.jpg?width=421&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=14ca4d005f7472ae6215f7aee93f61187534d16f
The photos below show the hexagonal craters side by side. They also show rectangular ruins and a grid like patter for a city similar like LA when its viewed from high above.
These once again are not natural formations.
The moon is full of craters yet you got these rectangular like structures interesting indeed.

https://preview.redd.it/j23bgapv3ce61.png?width=709&format=png&auto=webp&s=6de9e023e27c2cd0bea4b8b3c3df0c1306068b39
Cities Found on the Moon! by LaRay
Reasonable activity of an alien civilization showed up unexpectedly close to us.
However, we were not psychologically ready for it. We still come across publications trying to find an answer to the following question: Are we alone in the universe?
At the same time, the presence of reasoning beings has been detected close to our home, on the Moon. However, this discovery was immediately classified as secret, as it is so incredible that it even might shake the already existing social principles, reports Russia's newspaper Vecherny Volgograd.
Here is an extract from the official press-release:
"NASA scientists and engineers participating in exploration of Mars and the Moon reported the results of their discoveries at a briefing at the Washington National Press Club on March 21, 1996. It was announced for the first time that man-made structures and objects have been discovered on the Moon."
The scientists spoke rather cautiously and evasively about these objects, with the exception of a UFO. They always mentioned that the man-made objects are possible, and stated the information was still under study and official results will be published later.
It was mentioned at the briefing as well that the Soviet Union used to own some photo materials proving the presence of such activity on the Moon. And, although it wasn't identified what kind of activity it was, thousands of photo- and video materials from the Apollo's and the Clementine space station showed many parts on the lunar surface where this activity and its traces were perfectly evident.
The video films and photos made by US astronauts during the Apollo program were demonstrated at the briefing. People were extremely surprised why the materials hadn't been presented to the public earlier.
NASA specialists answered:
"It was difficult to forecast the reaction of people to information that some creatures had been or still are on the Moon. In addition, there were some other reasons to it, which were beyond the control of NASA."
Specialist for lunar studies Richard Hoagland says that NASA is still trying to alter photo materials before they are published in public catalogues and files.
They do some retouching or are partially refocusing them while copying. Some investigators, Hoagland is among them, suppose that an extraterrestrial race had used the Moon as a terminal station during their activity on the Earth. These suggestions are confirmed by the legends and myths of different nations of our planet.
The ruins of lunar cities stretch for many kilometers. Huge domes on massive basements, numerous tunnels, and other constructions cause scientists to reconsider their opinions concerning the Moon. How the Moon appeared and principles of its revolving around the Earth still pose a great problem for scientists.
Some partially destroyed objects on the lunar surface can't be placed among natural geological formations, as they are of complex organization and geometrical structure. In the upper part of Rimahadley, not far from the place where the Apollo-15 had landed, a construction surrounded by a tall D-shaped wall was discovered.
As of now, different artifacts have been discovered in 44 regions. The NASA Goddard Space Flight Center and the Houston Planetary Institute are investigating the regions. Mysterious terrace-shaped excavations of rock have been discovered near the Tiho crater.
The concentric hexahedral excavations and the tunnel entry on the terrace side can't be the results of natural geological processes; instead, they look very much like open cast mines. A transparent dome raised above the crater edge was discovered near the crater Copernicus. The dome is unusual, as it is glows white and blue from the inside. A rather unusual object, which is unusual indeed even for the Moon, was discovered in the upper part of the Factory area.
A disk of about 50 meters in diameter stands on a square basement surrounded with walls. In the picture, close to the rhomb, we can also see a dark, round embrasure in the round, which resembles an entry to an underground caponier. There is a rectangular area between factory and the crater Copernicus, which is 300 meters wide 400 meters long.
Apollo-10 astronauts took a photo (AS10-32-4822) of a one-mile long object called "Castle," which is at the height of 14 kilometers and casts a distinct shadow on the lunar surface.
The object seems to consist of several cylindrical units and a large conjunctive unit. The internal porous structure of the Castle is clearly seen in one of the pictures, which gives the impression that some parts of the object are transparent.
As it turned out at the briefing where many NASA scientists were present, when Richard Hoagland had requested originals of the Castle pictures for the second time, no pictures were found at all. They disappeared even from the list of pictures made by the Apollo-10 crew. Only intermediate pictures of the object were found in the archives, which unfortunately don't depict the internal structure of the object.
When the Apollo-12 crew landed on the lunar surface, they saw that the landing was observed by a half-transparent, pyramidal object. It was hovering just several meters above the lunar surface and shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow against the black sky.
In 1969, when the film about astronauts travelling to the Sea of Storms was demonstrated (the astronauts saw the strange objects once again, which were later called "striped glasses"), NASA finally understood what consequences such kind of control could bring.
Astronaut Mitchell answered the question about his feelings after his successful return:
"My neck still aches as I had to constantly turn my head around, because we felt we were not alone there. We had no choice but to pray."
Johnston, who worked at the Houston Space Center and studied photos and video materials made during the Apollo program, discussed the artifacts with Richard Hoagland and said that the NASA leadership was awfully annoyed with the great number of anomalous, to put it mildly, objects on the Moon.
It was even said that piloted flights to the Moon might be banned.
Investigators are especially interested in ancient structures resembling partially destroyed cities. Photos reveal an astonishingly regular geometry of square and rectangular constructions. They resemble our cities seen from the height of 5-8 kilometers.
A mission control specialist commented on the pictures:
"Our guys observed ruins of the Lunar cities, transparent pyramids, domes, and God knows what else, which are currently hidden deep inside the NASA safes, and felt like Robinson Crusoe when he suddenly came across prints of bare feet on the sand of the desert island."
What do geologists and scientists say after studying the pictures of lunar cities and other anomalous objects? They say that such objects can't be natural formations.
"We should admit they are artificial, especially the domes and pyramids."
Reasonable activity of an alien civilization showed up unexpectedly close to us. We were not ready for it psychologically, and some people hardly believe they are true even now.
More Moon "strange" Apollo's Photos
from CollectSpace Website
Because of all the processing, "these" images should not be used for research purposes. They should only be used to select and identify images for use in a research project.
Higher resolution products should be obtained for use in any scientific investigation.

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submitted by CuteBananaMuffin to conspiracy [link] [comments]

Soundless Conflicts - 20

Navigation Destinations
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Situational Gravity
The back wall of Storage was covered in slowly churning triangles and sluggish cables.
Eyes wide, Lieutenant Jamet tracked the writhing mass upwards to an overhead Environmental vent, then down again to where a spiky ball writhed around a rack full of broken containers. Shock combined with instant revulsion made every detail stand out: The things looked metallic, roughly triangular and thicker than the palm of her hand. They came in various sizes, from nearly a foot long to barely larger than a stylus. But every one of them had a trio of cables snaking out of each corner that slowly pulled them around, on or under the racks along the back storage area.
The thickest group perched on top of shelving units near the ducts, at least a dozen full-size versions wrapped together in a three dimensional hexagon the size of her outstretched arms. Smaller units slid through gaps in the sides, carrying disassembled pieces of electronics with them in clutches of wrapped cables. As she watched a new, finger-length triangle dropped from the bottom, clattering on the shelf before awkwardly flipping itself over.
Jamet carefully stepped backward from the hatch, one hand dragging on Janson's skinsuit. He let himself be pulled around the corner one step at a time, not making any sudden motions or sounds until they were out of sight. When the corner of the hatch finally blocked view of the teeming mass Jamet reached for the skinsuit's wrist panel, then hesitated: Would being out of visual range matter if the radio started transmitting? What did they navigate with, what kind of sensors did they use? Were they even alive or aware?
She grabbed a handful of Janson's skinsuit and pull him downward until their helmets touched. Hopefully vibrations would travel between the material without being loud enough to detect nearby. "Can you hear me?"
From five inches away he stared at her, eyebrows all the way up. "Yes, ma'am." He was obviously yelling. "Speak up ah little, if you can."
"Is it! Safe! To use! The radio! Doyouthink!?" She yelled, then pointed at her wrist console.
He thought about it for a moment, eyes drifting away. Then he tapped the console on his wrist and spoke over the speakers in her helmet. "Ah think it's fine. We're transmitting pretty much all th' time, anyways." Big shoulders went up and down in a shrug.
Jamet let go and opened her own line to the bridge. "Sir, the boarders?"
He came back immediately. "Yes?"
"Do they look like broken triangles with lots of wires?"
There was a long, expectant silence before her helmet speakers clicked back on. "Yes, I believe they do. You've seen one?"
"One would have been bad enough, but it looks like there's some sort of... colony, I guess?... going on in the storage room. I literally can't count how many of them there are!" Janson made hushing motions with both hands, patting downwards toward the deck. She lowered the volume a little. "Sorry. What are they?"
"Ah'm going to say they're artificial." Janson sounded professionally interested. "Drones, or some kind of advanced construction system. Captain, it looks like they're repurposin' some of our stock to manufacture more of themselves."
"How many of our supplies are being used?"
Janson risked a quick peek. "Sending an image now, sir." He tapped twice, then aimed the top of his helmet around the corner and swiped an icon.
"Wait, these suits have image sensors?" Jamet blinked, then started working her wrist console and mumbling. "Can mine take images, too?"
"Yes, ma'am. Records video, too. Can play it back on your wrist console if you like-- Kipper's suits are a bit on th' high end of tech." He looked slightly upwards. "Captain? Did it come through?"
"Told myself I wouldn't count the cost any more, but really?" She mumbled, annoyed. "Image sensors on suits is just-"
Siers talked right over her irritation. "We've got the image, Engineer. Hold one minute. If you see anything moving toward the hatch seal it immediately."
"Instantly, sir."
The line closed with a click, leaving them standing awkwardly in the corridor. "Should we put our helmets down? Avoid using the radio?"
Janson thought about it. "If it's all the same, ma'am, I'd rather not. Ah'm imagining one of 'em getting into my suit." He tapped the neck seal significantly.
Suddenly that was all Jamet could think of as well. "Thanks for that idea, it's not going to keep me awake later or anything."
"Happy to help." He took another quick peek into storage, putting one eye barely around the corner. "Looks like they're staying on the far wall, ma'am. Also- hmm. They're moving very slow for some reason. Maybe whatever they're doing is taking a lot out of 'em."
"I'd say it's making a lot more of them. Is there anything we can do? Weapons locker, or something?
He nodded. "Yup. We had a Security locker, pretty stocked."
"Okay, let's go get absolutely everything we can hold, then-"
"-an' then we took debris through the entire middle of the ship."
"Are you completely serious?" Jamet threw both hands up in rage. "Fine, fine. Improvised weapons? Where's the alcohol, we'll light them all on fire!"
He nodded. "Good idea. But ah hate to say it: We're on a bit of a timer, ma'am. We could go make somethin' right now, or we can get the GravComm. Not enough time f' both."
She stomped in a circle, then punched the bulkhead. "Okay. Alright. Drones! Where are the maintenance drones?"
Janson looked up and to one side, eyes losing focus as he went into the Engineering system. "Ah have three down a ways, working on a power relay. Want me to pull 'em?"
"Yes! Send them in, have the drones grab the GravComm! Wait, are they strong enough to carry it? How big is the thing?"
"Should be alright. They've got local gravity generators an' manipulators, can carry about two hundred pounds each. Can you pull the storage list, ma'am? Need t' know where it is."
Jamet edged up to the hatch, then stuck an arm around the corner and felt for the handheld console next to the entrance. It popped off with an easy twist. "Got it. Let me search, get those drones coming."
"On it, ma'am."
Her radio clicked on. "Lieutenant? Captain Siers here."
"Go ahead, sir." She ran a wrist ID over the console and started flicking through menu lists.
"Emilia ran the image through analysis, she says there are nearly seventy of them in a single snapshot. But there's good news as well: Paul is in the Environmental systems right now. He thinks they're isolated to storage and the aft reactor area."
Janson twitched, his big suit exaggerating the motion. "The reactor area is where mah drones are coming from. Should ah send them back?"
"No, we need them. Can't do this without help. Risk it. Captain, how much activity in the reactor?"
There was a pause as he consulted. "Paul says every tamper sensor he has is going off in the venting system there. Lots of activity."
"There, found it!" Jamet tapped an entry for GravComm relays, then handed the console to the engineer. "It says bay B-12, is that close to our friends in there?"
"No, bit of luck there. It's th' second rack over, less than twenty feet in. But ah'm having a thought, here. Take a look inside-- are they still moving?"
She peeked, shuddered and pulled back. "Very slowly, but yes."
Janson tapped his wrist console. "Captain? Remember looking at those pictures of our incoming?"
"Yes. Do you need to see them again? Also, a status update would be nice."
"We're using drones to carry the relay, sir. Two minutes to get 'em here, then maybe five to get the relay on the way to a lifeboat." He snuck another look. "Remember earlier, when ah said they were manufacturing those asteroids into ships?"
"I recall. You're talking about how the ones nearest the asteroid belt center were more complete?"
"Yes sir. But also ah was wondering about th' power supply. They don't have one. Not that ah can find, anyways. Unless you can see something with Comms, Emilia?"
"I'll check, but something big enough to power all that would have been obvious from the start. I think, anyways."
Jamet jogged a short way down the corridor, anxiously scanning for the maintenance drones and making exasperated noises when they failed to appear from thin air. Grumbling, she turned to the nearest bulkhead and pulled the emergency cache out. Seconds later she had the contents folded outwards, diving through cases and pulling out tools. "Paul, I'm looking through the bulkhead kit. Anything in here that can be a weapon?"
"Is there an air cast?"
"Yes! Why?"
"Because you did a lot of damage with that to me."
"This is not the time!" She threw a sealed package of rations against the wall, then pulled a handheld welder from a hard shelled case. It clicked on with a searing blue light that made their shadows stand out against the wall. "Okay, found something."
"Cut the chatter, everyone." Siers silenced the channel, then took it back. "Engineer, explain about the power supply. Something we can use?"
Janson snapped his gloved fingers and directed Jamet's attention down the corridor as three maintenance drones rounded the far bulkhead. They floated at a slow walking pace on internal gravity generators, manipulators already unfolded and dangling beneath. "About time!"
"Paul, still there?"
"Yes. Something I can do, engineer?" Frustrated sounds came over the link.
He watched the drones slowly floating down the corridor while talking on the radio. "Do me a favor: Check those alerts in th' reactor room again?"
"One moment... hmm. That's odd. Almost all the alerts in the aft reactor room stopped triggering. What changed?"
Jamet and Janson looked at the drones coming down the corridor, then shared a glance. "You think?" She nodded at the floating assistants.
"Might be, ma'am. Paul, you have alerts around storage? Watch for more activity soon. Ah'm sending the maintenance drones in to get the relay now."
He looked steadily at the three waiting drones, silently sending instructions through his chip. After a moment they started moving again, floating through the hatch as Janson flattened to the side to let them pass. Jamet took up position on the other side of the hatch, welder in hand and sparking nervously every other second.
Janson stared upwards, unfocused. "Paul? Anything?"
"Increase in activity. The Environmental system went from one tamper alert to three. Four, now." He paused, then came back sounding thoughtful. "It's the drones, then? How?"
Jamet stuck her helmet around the corner, welder ready in one hand. Inside the room all three drones were cooperating to pull a large, flat rectangle from a shelf nearby. But on the far wall the invader activity was picking up, triangles flipping and scrambling with increased speed. As she watched three of them combined together, forming half a hexagon side that rapidly filled in with more units. Within seconds a full lattice formed, engulfing an entire container of parts. "Engineer, I think we need to hurry this up."
"I agree, lieutenant. Every single hard lockout is now under assault. Two are in danger of breach, I am going to lock the compartments to either side."
The maintenance drones lifted the large case off the storage rack, then turned and proceeded toward the hatch at half the speed of horror. Jamet made urgent 'hurry up' motions at the three of them without ever setting foot inside the room, eyes glued to the roiling mass of attackers covering nearly the entire back shelving units. "They're getting faster! Also, I think- oh shit."
A group of triangles broke away from the mob, cables whipping across the floor as they flipped between shelves towards the drones. Jamet yelled, moving to one side as the drones floated past, then hit the hatch controls with an open-handed strike that threatened to break the toggle.
The hatch whooshed shut, clipping the lead attacker as it flipped through but leaving the others sealed inside. Instantly the triangular unit orientated on the nearest drone, cables whipping out to surround it. Jamet screamed, stiff armed the handheld welder and charged with it like she was trying to spear it straight through the attacker. "A little help here, Janson!"
Welder met curiously slick metal in a shower of sparks that left a huge gouge on the casing. She had time to swipe it once more before the unit reoriented, a hard hit that sent one of the thick cables flying across the deck. Then it was on her, leaping from the hapless drone unit onto the front of Jamet's skinsuit.
Cables whipped upwards, smashing the front of her helmet hard enough to leave cracks. Half a dozen others wrapped her lower back, hammering painful welts along every rib all the way to the shoulders. Jamet struggled, crashing from side to side against the bulkheads as she angled a free arm between them, fighting what felt like a ton of force to push it away. She still had the welder, but couldn't get an angle on the thing that wouldn't burn a hole straight through the skinsuit. "Jansooonnnnnn!"
She fell down, losing the welder when her wrist cracked against the deck. The damn thing swarmed up her suit, putting the triangular central piece straight over her cracked faceplate as cables dug into the hard shell of the skinsuit. She had a horrified moment to look straight into the interior and see an entire microsystem of moving parts before the entire unit stopped moving.
At the same time three loud thumps announced the maintenance drones hitting the deck nearby, one of them close enough to roll onto her foot. Not that Jamet cared; she was busy fighting wrapped cables and screaming. "Getitoff! Get it off! Get! It! Off!"
"Easy! Easy, ma'am!" She realized Janson was talking to her, helping to untangle the gripping steel. "It's alright! It's not movin'!" The radio was screaming inside her helmet, a chaos of three voices yelling for updates that weren't coming any time soon. Feeling something go slack Jamet twisted hard, rolled and scooted backwards across the deck on her butt. She saw the welder a moment later and dove on it, bringing bright blue flame around.
Janson had the attacker pinned to the deck with one large boot, holding his other hand out towards her in a 'hold' motion. "Easy, ma'am! It's not going anywhere! Ah got it!"
Bright spots jumped and swam everywhere. The skinsuit helpfully pinged a caution advisement against the cracked viewplate to let her know she was hyperventilating. "Is it dead? Kill it! No, wait: I'm going to kill it. Move your foot, Engineer!"
"S'alright! It doesn't have power anymore. Look!" He lifted his boot, drawing a startled yell from Jamet as she triggered the welder again.
It didn't come back to life or whip cables around. Bereft of motion it seemed less harmful: Just a triangular body with a large gash, resting on a bed of oily cabling. She didn't trust it. "What did you do?"
"Ah turned off th' drones. Look." He pointed at the three units, grounded and lifeless. "Ah think it's the gravity lifts. They're powerin' them somehow. When the drones got close those things picked up speed, came after it."
Helmet speakers came to life, making them both jump. "That would explain a lot," Siers sounded concerned. "Lieutenant, are you okay?"
"That's a solid hell no!" She nervously clicked the welder twice in a rapid succession, eyes glued to the motionless thing on the floor. "My back is on fire, I think it beat me half to death! Uh, sir."
"Report to Paul in Medical as soon as you can. Engineer, I hate to push but if you have the situation under control we need that relay in a lifeboat five minutes ago. Sooner, if possible."
"On it, sir. Paul, you there?"
"Yes. Before you ask: Tamper sensors are almost entirely quiet now. Only one is alerting sporadically. Lieutenant-- I will be waiting in Medical whenever you can come."
He nodded as Jamet acknowledged the offer, then looked at the three lifeless maintenance drones. "Ma'am, I know it's a a lot t' ask. But we need to drag this thing."
"That's fine," she took careful steps around the dead thing on the floor. "Ow. My ribs. Alright, I've got this side-- let's go before I collapse in shock or something."
Janson gave her a bushy grin, beard on full display through his faceplate. "You're in danger of gettin' on my good side, ma'am." He grabbed a handle on his side and started pulling. She grunted and dragged her end alongside.
"I wasn't already?"
"Course you were. You ate one of my muffins an' everything."
"That was a muffin?" Jamet wheezed a weak laugh.
The two of them dragged the heavy case down the corridor at a brisk pace, Jamet hissing every other step as her ribs shifted. Less than a minute later they took a sharp turn away from the centerline, angling into an alcove containing a console and a bright red painted hatch. Yellow, gleaming letters spelled 'Emergency Lifeboat' all the way across the floor, with a single thick arrow pointing to a handle on the wall.
Janson hauled downward on the handle, throwing the hatch open with an explosive whoosh of equalizing air. The lifeboat inside was was the size of two closets put together, crammed with emergency equipment and an oversized atmosphere cycling unit. Four jumpseats lined the walls, two on a side, with crash webbing and convertible sleeping meshes tucked neatly beneath. No less than six skinsuits were racked above the seats: One for each spot and two extras. A fat combination Comms and power unit sat against the front of the boat like a bloated tick.
Jamet tried extremely hard not to think about the cost of this lifeboat as she helped drag the case inside.
A moment later Janson snapped the latches, throwing the top open. Inside was a long silver tube, nestled in foam with dozens of small pieces carefully racked next to it. She looked at the pieces, then glanced around the case lid for a set of instructions. "What do I do? How can I help?"
He grabbed the tube and pulled, popping it out of the fitted compartment. "Nothing, ma'am. If we were using this for real it would be a lot more complicated. But we just need it to turn on. Hand me that power pack." He pointed at the far side of the case. Jamet ripped a bright orange box free of foam, hissing in pain while handing it to the engineer. He snapped it on the side of the tube, then clicked two leads into place on the pack. A small console lit up moments later, scrolling through a bootup sequence.
"There, that's got it." Janson tapped his wrist console. "Captain, the GravComm is ready."
"Don't turn it on!" Emilia sounded panicked.
"Ah'm not. I got it set on local network, you should have control. Do you see it, Emilia?"
"Yes! Okay, get ready to fire the lifeboat, I'll turn it on when it's clear! Captain?"
Siers took over, voice strained. "Overriding the failsafes. Normally someone has to be inside to jettison, but let's not have anyone playing hero. Engineer, lieutenant-- get clear."
They scrambled out of the lock, leaving behind the GravComm array and more supplies than any lifeboat Jamet ever heard of. She leaned against the bulkhead nearby as Janson threw the emergency handle upwards one-handed, then waited until the hatch slammed shut to open a radio circuit. "Got it, sir! Go!"
A moment later the hatch rang like a gong, explosive bolts throwing the lifeboat away from the Kipper on a screaming arc of burning propellant. The corridor fell into a tense, quiet moment that stretched for long enough to feel awkward.
Emilia's voice came over the radio, excitement leaking through. "GravComm triggered! Targets are... targets are baited, they took the bait! Holy shit it worked! I mean, I always knew it would work!"
Jamet shared a tired grin with the big engineer, then hissed in pain. "I need to get to Medical."
"For sure, ma'am. But let's change your suit first; it's looking pretty beat up and ah'm a little concerned."
She looked down, then carefully turned to glance at one flank. If anything Janson was understating it-- whatever those cables were made of nearly sliced through the skinsuit in multiple places. She was striped from the waist up, layers shredded two or three deep. Only the absurd cost and quality of the Kipper's equipment saved her from getting mauled. "Oh. Wow, I didn't know it was that bad."
"Just be glad you can't see the back, ma'am."
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hexagon angles interior video

All interior angles in a regular hexagon measure 120 o What is the measurement of one exterior angle? Check all that apply. 60 o; 30 o; 90 o; 120 o; Check your answer. EXTENDING. Since the sum of the exterior angles for all polygons = 360 o, we can figure out how many sides are there in a regular polygon if we know the measure of one exterior angle. For example, if we know that the exterior ... Un hexagone est une forme à six côtés. En utilisant la bonne équation, vous pouvez trouver le degré de chacun des angles intérieurs ou les angles à l'intérieur de l'hexagone aux angles. En utilisant une formule différente, vous pouvez trouver les angles extérieurs de l'hexagone. Ce processus, cependant, ne fonctionne que pour les hexagones réguliers, ou ceux dans lesquels ... Les angles intérieurs de l'hexagone Tout a commencé avec un problème où il fallait trouver la valeur de l’angle intérieur d’un hexagone régulier. Il est facile de voir qu’un hexagone régulier peut être divisé en six triangles congrus. The interior angles of a regular hexagon measure 120 a regular hexagon has all sides the same length and all angles are equal. 1 hexagon 2 octagon 3 pentagon 4 quadrilateral 2 what is the measure of each interior angle of a regular hexagon. 4 determine and state the measure in degrees of an interior angle of a regular decagon. Un hexagone régulier, appelé aussi un hexagone parfait, a six côtés égaux et six angles égaux. Vous pouvez dessiner un hexagone parfait à l'aide d'une règle et d'un rapporteur, un hexagone un peu moins précis avec un objet circulaire et une règle ou enfin un hexagone plus approximatif en utilisant seulement un crayon et votre intuition. Interior Angles of Polygons An Interior Angle is an angle inside a shape. Another example: Triangles. The Interior Angles of a Triangle add up to 180° Let's try a triangle: 90° + 60° + 30° = 180° It works for this triangle. Now tilt a line by 10°: 80° + 70° + 30° = 180° It still works! One angle went up by 10°, and the other went down by 10° Quadrilaterals (Squares, etc) (A ... A hexagon is a shape with six sides. Using the correct equation, you can find the degree of each of the interior angles, or the angles inside the hexagon at the corners. Using a different formula, you can find the exterior angles of the hexagon. T... Therefore it s interior angle and exterior angle is given by. Given that the hexagon is a regular hexagon this means that all the side length are congruent and all internal angles are congruent. Regular hexagons a regular hexagon is a polygon with six equal sides and angles. Angles of the hexagon the sum of interior angles of a hexagon 6 2 180. Polygons - Hexagons - Cool Math has free online cool math lessons, cool math games and fun math activities. Really clear math lessons (pre-algebra, algebra, precalculus), cool math games, online graphing calculators, geometry art, fractals, polyhedra, parents and teachers areas too. Interior Angles Of A Hexagon Hexagon Angles Interior If The Sum Of The Interior Angles Of A Polygon Is 720 What 4 Triangles Make Up A Hexagon So Its 4 Multiplied By 180 Unit 15 Section 2 Angle Properties Of Polygons Finding The Sum Of The Interior Angles S1 Lines And Angles Contents S1 1 Labelling Lines And Angles The Interior Angles Formed By The Sides Of A Hexagon Have Hexagon Picture Images ...

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hexagon angles interior

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