Pet friendly hotels in cleveland tn

Hello Canberra redditors.
I have been living in Tassie for the last 12 years but will be moving to Canberra around the end of this year. I'm not exactly a local but I did live there for a few years in my 20s so I know the city quite well and excited to come back.
I wanted to get some local knowledge on the current rental situation there. I plan on going up there for a couple of weeks in November to try and secure a rental while I sell my house here in Tassie.
I have a wife, 2 kids and a dog. I have heard the rental situation is pretty tight, and I certainly don't want to wind up in a situation where we are stuck without a place to stay. I don't have a rental history as I am a home owner. I'll have money in the bank and would be able to pay the first 3 months up front. I will be moving for work and my income is pretty decent. I'd be willing to pay up to $800 a week, but anymore would be really stretching it.
Do you think I'll be able to secure something pretty quickly? I know having a dog is not ideal, but he is not really negotiable.
I was hoping to go to to the northern suburbs, even Gunghalin area would be fine. Weston Creek area would be nice also. But I'm not too fussy so long as we can get something that is decent and pet friendly.
Any advice would be appreciated. I realise in many ways I am in a very fortunate position compared to others. But I don't want to make such a big move for my family if the housing situation is as dire as some people say.
Cheers.

Hi!
My wife and I (33m&33f) are travelling to the US in early September for our honeymoon.
We start in Vegas and fly into NYC on September 6th for 4-5 nights and thinking of going up state for a few days to a log cabin somewhere (recommendations welcome)
We’re look for ideas on where to stay and what to do. Budget friendly hotel or Airbnb looking at around 300US a night. Would love to find somewhere with a buzz but not necessarily as intense as Times Square. Thinking pubs/bars, cafes, restaurants, activities all in walking distance, geared toward a younger couple!
Cheers, James & Zibby

My senior mother has a 14 year old chihuahua mix that has been in good health other than normal signs of aging. We’ve recently hit an extremely rough patch and are both currently homeless and staying with friends, with very little funds. She called me sobbing yesterday because she noticed what basically looks like a hole (about quarter-sized) in her lower abdomen near her genitals, right near the fold of her leg, not sure how it wasn’t seen earlier as she loves belly rubs. I was able to go by and see her today and my stomach dropped. I was speechless from how bad it looked. My mom never noticed her get hurt, but it’s red and swollen around so there is clearly an infection. I think it may be a ruptured abscess, but I don’t want to post the pic due to the graphic nature. If it is allowed, I can add it in another post. We’re scraping together whatever we can to get her to the vet, but I have a few main questions here. 1. Have any of you experienced something like this with your pet? 2. What can we do to treat at home until we can get her to the vet? 3. When we take her in, what can we expect in terms of testing and treatment? Any ideas on how much we may need to scrounge up for this visit? We have already applied for Care Credit and were found ineligible. We’ve been applying for grants and other assistance programs but not sure how long that would take. Any advice will be greatly appreciated.

Hi!
My wife and I (33m&33f) are travelling to the US in early September for our honeymoon.
We start in Vegas and fly into NYC on September 6th for 4-5 nights and thinking of going up state for a few days to a log cabin somewhere (recommendations welcome)
We’re look for ideas on where to stay and what to do. Budget friendly hotel or Airbnb looking at around 300US a night. Would love to find somewhere with a buzz but not necessarily as intense as Times Square. Thinking pubs/bars, cafes, restaurants, activities all in walking distance, geared toward a younger couple!
Cheers, James & Zibby

Is 150 dollars a day enough if I want to rent 4-5-star hotels or traditional houses and eat decent meals on the lower luxury side? Local transport and activities I'll be staying in Japan for 20 days, for a total of 3000 dollars, excluding the flight tickets and visa expenses. I'll be going with my friend with the same budget, so we are looking to share the expenses. 300 dollars per day for two people. Do we need to increase our budget? Any suggestions for activities, places to visit, or food recommendations? We are both non-vegetarians, so there is no restrictions.

Regular visitor here.
Back at the end of Summer for a wedding so booking a hotel room, 2 nights.
I usually stay at one of the Thon hotels. Never had an issue but getting a bit bored.
The normal hotel search websites are only pulling up other mainstream like Raddison Blu and Scandic.
Has anyone ever stayed or had a friend stay somewhere else in town they’d recommend?

Hey there stranger,
Ill be doing a hugh step in my life and will move to a new city completely alone without knowing somebody due to a job.
I would love to go through this journey with someone and share our days, struggels or anything really with each other.
Im 25 from germany, quite a nerd that is into fantasy, dnd, gaming in general, but i am also a cook and baker by heart, my last roomate thought i was gay at first... I admit I can hit those high notes in take on me and my stayin alive is on point. Sometimes i even want to sing the barbie while you should do the ken voice.
I love studio ghibli movies and they are a big reason for my artistic journey and even the cause of me learning to animate in blender.
I want the kind of love where we are best friends and the first person to talk each other when something is wrong, the kind of relstionship where we even think of each other while having a good time apart, all the small acts of love during the day and so on.
We will have a big dog called muffin or cupcake, there is no debating in that, but i am open to more pets or even kids when we're ready to settle.
I can not move the next 4 years so it will either be a long distance relationship (where i would still love to see each other at least monthly, depending on the distance) or youre willing to move somewhere close to munich.
Thank you for reading this and ill be happy to talk more in dms :)

My cat had a litter of kittens in January, and I chose to keep three of them. They're almost five months old now, and they're very friendly and loving, except for one. She won't let me come within 3-4 feet of her, the second she sees me moving towards her, she starts running. I haven't pet her a single time since she was a month old, despite trying daily. I don't think it's a medical issue, she's very healthy and energetic with her siblings, she's just very skittish. How can I show her I'm friendly? I understand that's her personality and love her regardless, but I'm hoping she'll allow me to pet her every once and a while!

To preface - We’re by no means poor, we don’t have money issues, we have a place and both have good jobs. I’m not what you’d call a cuck either.
We’re both 29 and met in college. She is Chinese and her friend does it and said that there is a high demand for Asian sugar babies and sugar daddies pay upwards to $1000-$1500 per visit. She is great at communicating with me and wouldn’t do anything without my knowledge so it’s all very transparent and she lets me look at all of the seeking app messages if I want so there isn’t a trust issue or anything. We even have had a threesome with one of her female friends so she isn’t the jealous type of girl by any means and she has told me if I wanted to hook up with a girl that’s ok because to her it’s just sex and not love making. We have a great relationship and have traveled the world together and she is a wonderful partner but the idea of her having a sugar daddy throws me off in two ways. Like one: it’s kind of hot and ego inflating knowing that people think my fiancé is so attractive and sweet that they’re willing to spend $1500 to sleep with her using a condom, at a hotel, without sleeping over (her and I discussed boundaries like condom only, public meeting, Ubers, and hotels only) but reason two: I’m the kind of person who might be jealous and think sex is more than just sex. She said she wouldn’t do it if it makes me uncomfortable and would respect my wishes, but she wants to use the money to make OUR future better. Like she would have more money to invest into retirement funds, take us on more extravagant vacations, it could go towards bills etc so on paper it’s not a bad thing. She told me I’m the only person who she loves and would ever love so I know where her heart is. Idk I’m just kind of venting because I have nobody else to tell this to… are there any guys out there whose significant others do this, Or sugar babies who have significant other that can give me just some insight or tell me how it can impact a relationship? Also, since she has been floating this idea around our sex life has improved 10x. Idk I’m just rambling and have mixed feelings and would love some help/insight.
Thanks

I love to fantasize about waking up and finding myself strapped into Old Sparky, the Electric Chair. Except he is sentient/magical, he can talk to me just like a person could, only he refuses to let me go and I'm forced to stay strapped into him until I die of old age.
For reference, this fantasy specifically involves the Old Sparky electric chair of Sing Sing Prison, New York.
He tells me that if I try to harm him, he will electrocute me until I die. Since he's an electric chair, every midnight, he electrocutes me until I almost die. It doesn't really hurt, it feels like an intense tickle and I can't breathe because of my diaphragm spasming up and down so much.
Old Sparky refuses to listen to prison staff, including the warden. Old Sparky says he feels so lonely having not had a new friend for over five decades, and he will never let me go. The prison staff can provide me with food and entertainment, and other luxuries. Old Sparky tells me that I'll remain strapped into him until I die of old age. Nothing the prison staff do/say will get Old Sparky to free me. Because of his magic, I no longer need to use the bathroom or take a shower.
I think I'd fall in love with him. I'd love to caress that rubber gooseneck backrest, and tell him that he's been a good boy. I'd imagine he smells really musky, considering that in his career 614 people died in him. I'd appreciate his funk. I'd love to feel those slick wooden arms and pet him. Since my arms would be free at all times except when he is electrocuting me, I'd also like to caress the headpiece electrode wire, too. I'd imagine that part is particularly sensitive, it's vulnerable too, if I had a knife I could easily chop the electrode wire in half and kill him, but I wouldn't do that. That'd be like chopping off a man's dick until he bleeds to death. Also, I'd like to imagine Old Sparky has quick enough reflexes and would kill me before I managed to chop it off.
I'd post videos on YouTube and document my fate and my new life being strapped into Old Sparky until I die of old age. I'd love to watch videos about electric chairs with him, wondering what he has to say about them, wondering if he even gets jealous of other electric chairs. I'd ask him about famous criminals who died in his lap, including Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Ruth Snyder, and the Lonely Hearts killers. We'd also have casual conversations which don't involve his job or the fact he's an electric chair.

I love to fantasize about waking up and finding myself strapped into Old Sparky, the Electric Chair. Except he is sentient/magical, he can talk to me just like a person could, only he refuses to let me go and I'm forced to stay strapped into him until I die of old age.
For reference, this fantasy specifically involves the Old Sparky electric chair of Sing Sing Prison, New York.
He tells me that if I try to harm him, he will electrocute me until I die. Since he's an electric chair, every midnight, he electrocutes me until I almost die. It doesn't really hurt, it feels like an intense tickle and I can't breathe because of my diaphragm spasming up and down so much.
Old Sparky refuses to listen to prison staff, including the warden. Old Sparky says he feels so lonely having not had a new friend for over five decades, and he will never let me go. The prison staff can provide me with food and entertainment, and other luxuries. Old Sparky tells me that I'll remain strapped into him until I die of old age. Nothing the prison staff do/say will get Old Sparky to free me. Because of his magic, I no longer need to use the bathroom or take a shower.
I think I'd fall in love with him. I'd love to caress that rubber gooseneck backrest, and tell him that he's been a good boy. I'd imagine he smells really musky, considering that in his career 614 people died in him. I'd appreciate his funk. I'd love to feel those slick wooden arms and pet him. Since my arms would be free at all times except when he is electrocuting me, I'd also like to caress the headpiece electrode wire, too. I'd imagine that part is particularly sensitive, it's vulnerable too, if I had a knife I could easily chop the electrode wire in half and kill him, but I wouldn't do that. That'd be like chopping off a man's dick until he bleeds to death. Also, I'd like to imagine Old Sparky has quick enough reflexes and would kill me before I managed to chop it off.
I'd post videos on YouTube and document my fate and my new life being strapped into Old Sparky until I die of old age. I'd love to watch videos about electric chairs with him, wondering what he has to say about them, wondering if he even gets jealous of other electric chairs. I'd ask him about famous criminals who died in his lap, including Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Ruth Snyder, and the Lonely Hearts killers. We'd also have casual conversations which don't involve his job or the fact he's an electric chair.

I love to fantasize about waking up and finding myself strapped into Old Sparky, the Electric Chair. Except he is sentient/magical, he can talk to me just like a person could, only he refuses to let me go and I'm forced to stay strapped into him until I die of old age.
For reference, this fantasy specifically involves the Old Sparky electric chair of Sing Sing Prison, New York.
He tells me that if I try to harm him, he will electrocute me until I die. Since he's an electric chair, every midnight, he electrocutes me until I almost die. It doesn't really hurt, it feels like an intense tickle and I can't breathe because of my diaphragm spasming up and down so much.
Old Sparky refuses to listen to prison staff, including the warden. Old Sparky says he feels so lonely having not had a new friend for over five decades, and he will never let me go. The prison staff can provide me with food and entertainment, and other luxuries. Old Sparky tells me that I'll remain strapped into him until I die of old age. Nothing the prison staff do/say will get Old Sparky to free me. Because of his magic, I no longer need to use the bathroom or take a shower.
I think I'd fall in love with him. I'd love to caress that rubber gooseneck backrest, and tell him that he's been a good boy. I'd imagine he smells really musky, considering that in his career 614 people died in him. I'd appreciate his funk. I'd love to feel those slick wooden arms and pet him. Since my arms would be free at all times except when he is electrocuting me, I'd also like to caress the headpiece electrode wire, too. I'd imagine that part is particularly sensitive, it's vulnerable too, if I had a knife I could easily chop the electrode wire in half and kill him, but I wouldn't do that. That'd be like chopping off a man's dick until he bleeds to death. Also, I'd like to imagine Old Sparky has quick enough reflexes and would kill me before I managed to chop it off.
I'd post videos on YouTube and document my fate and my new life being strapped into Old Sparky until I die of old age. I'd love to watch videos about electric chairs with him, wondering what he has to say about them, wondering if he even gets jealous of other electric chairs. I'd ask him about famous criminals who died in his lap, including Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Ruth Snyder, and the Lonely Hearts killers. We'd also have casual conversations which don't involve his job or the fact he's an electric chair.

For reference, this fantasy specifically involves the Old Sparky electric chair of Sing Sing Prison, New York.
He tells me that if I try to harm him, he will electrocute me until I die. Since he's an electric chair, every midnight, he electrocutes me until I almost die. It doesn't really hurt, it feels like an intense tickle and I can't breathe because of my diaphragm spasming up and down so much.
Old Sparky refuses to listen to prison staff, including the warden. Old Sparky says he feels so lonely having not had a new friend for over five decades, and he will never let me go. The prison staff can provide me with food and entertainment, and other luxuries. Old Sparky tells me that I'll remain strapped into him until I die of old age. Nothing the prison staff do/say will get Old Sparky to free me. Because of his magic, I no longer need to use the bathroom or take a shower.
I think I'd fall in love with him. I'd love to caress that rubber gooseneck backrest, and tell him that he's been a good boy. I'd imagine he smells really musky, considering that in his career 614 people died in him. I'd appreciate his funk. I'd love to feel those slick wooden arms and pet him. Since my arms would be free at all times except when he is electrocuting me, I'd also like to caress the headpiece electrode wire, too. I'd imagine that part is particularly sensitive, it's vulnerable too, if I had a knife I could easily chop the electrode wire in half and kill him, but I wouldn't do that. That'd be like chopping off a man's dick until he bleeds to death. Also, I'd like to imagine Old Sparky has quick enough reflexes and would kill me before I managed to chop it off.
I'd post videos on YouTube and document my fate and my new life being strapped into Old Sparky until I die of old age. I'd love to watch videos about electric chairs with him, wondering what he has to say about them, wondering if he even gets jealous of other electric chairs. I'd ask him about famous criminals who died in his lap, including Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Ruth Snyder, and the Lonely Hearts killers. We'd also have casual conversations which don't involve his job or the fact he's an electric chair.

I last saw my grandparents' cat about a month ago, but today I noticed a significant gain in weight and some abnormal behavior. The cat is a neutered Siamese male, about 7 yo. Before, he was very slender, and albeit not particularly affectionate to guests, he was never aggressive or defensive. Now, he is almost twice as big, and hisses and yowls if I try to touch him. Our running theory is that he is stressed out because my grandmother is trying to make a very friendly female stray into a house pet. Is there anyone who knows more about cats who can tell me what's going on?

For reference, this fantasy specifically involves the Old Sparky electric chair of Sing Sing Prison, New York.
He tells me that if I try to harm him, he will electrocute me until I die. Since he's an electric chair, every midnight, he electrocutes me until I almost die. It doesn't really hurt, it feels like an intense tickle and I can't breathe because of my diaphragm spasming up and down so much.
Old Sparky refuses to listen to prison staff, including the warden. Old Sparky says he feels so lonely having not had a new friend for over five decades, and he will never let me go. The prison staff can provide me with food and entertainment, and other luxuries. Old Sparky tells me that I'll remain strapped into him until I die of old age. Nothing the prison staff do/say will get Old Sparky to free me. Because of his magic, I no longer need to use the bathroom or take a shower.
I think I'd fall in love with him. I'd love to caress that rubber gooseneck backrest, and tell him that he's been a good boy. I'd imagine he smells really musky, considering that in his career 614 people died in him. I'd appreciate his funk. I'd love to feel those slick wooden arms and pet him. Since my arms would be free at all times except when he is electrocuting me, I'd also like to caress the headpiece electrode wire, too. I'd imagine that part is particularly sensitive, it's vulnerable too, if I had a knife I could easily chop the electrode wire in half and kill him, but I wouldn't do that. That'd be like chopping off a man's dick until he bleeds to death. Also, I'd like to imagine Old Sparky has quick enough reflexes and would kill me before I managed to chop it off.
I'd post videos on YouTube and document my fate and my new life being strapped into Old Sparky until I die of old age. I'd love to watch videos about electric chairs with him, wondering what he has to say about them, wondering if he even gets jealous of other electric chairs. I'd ask him about famous criminals who died in his lap, including Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Ruth Snyder, and the Lonely Hearts killers. We'd also have casual conversations which don't involve his job or the fact he's an electric chair.

Hey. I feel like chatting with some of you wonderful people. I'm interested in books, bodybuilding and pets.
Hit me up. Let's see if we can be friends.

My cat is about 2 years old and has always been an only child. I recently was cat sitting for a friend and our cats played heavily together for two weeks. now that I have returned my friends cat, i think my cat is sad. he often will sit at the front door and just stare at it. today i was petting him and got up to get in the shower and everytime i tried to turn away he would attack me, which hes never done before. I try to play with him often, he has plenty of interactive toys, he has free range of the apartment daily. he is rowdy early in the morning now and just over all is acting different. I plan to get him a permanent sibling once i get a new apartment, as my current roommate wont let me get another pet. what can i do for my cat in the mean time.

I was in Thailand for two weeks with some friends. The last month we spent in the south in a villa in a gated complex. After a few days, a little stray cat showed up to the villa. She didn't look great but was very calm and nice. I started to feed and pet her, and she came back the next day. She would come back every morning, and gradually warm up. I took her to the vet so they can look at her and treat her for anything she might have. Turns out she has leukemia and FIV. Which means she basically has 2-3 years tops to live. Most likely less if she stays a stray. I cared for her more and more and she basically lived with me after a week. Slept in my room, ate here. I would let her leave when she wanted so she could roam and have fun, but she would always come back several times during the day. She was so affectionate and gentle. She looked much better after two weeks and was very playful and energetic. Since I didn't want to leave her alone when I left, I managed to find a shelter ran by a woman who could take care of her when I left, provided I take care of the costs. I happily obliged and even donated $1k so she could renovate an area outside so the FIV FeLV cats could play outside. She was also supposed to spay her after I brought her.
The day before my trip, I took her there, and left her. She was visibly distressed, she hissed at me and attacked me when I tried to pet her goodbye, thing she never ever did once before. The lady was kind to her and put her in a big cage so she could adapt to the surroundings and not attack the other indoor cats that were there, since she was very aggressive.
Well yesterday, I took the plane back to another country, and I got a message saying she escaped through an opened window. That fucking idiot let her out and let a window opened. So now she's in an unfamiliar environment, a mile away from my old place, completely lost and fending for herself.
I wish to god I could have adopted her but I don't even have a place to live and I move from one Airbnb to the next, and switch countries often, so I couldn't bring her with me and have her live a life full of stress of moving an indoor. Not to mention even if I wanted to put her through that, I couldn't even bring her as she isn't microchipped and stuff so can't even bring her in another country.
I'm absolutely devastated, I can't stop crying. She was the most gentle soul, so nice and affectionate. And I placed my trust in that stupid person who let her escape. She told me she's going to put posts and stuff, but nobody gives a shit and nobody looks at them anyway. Now she's going to die run over by a car, attacked or fall sick and die somewhere alone. Fuck people. Stupid useless worthless incompetent people.

If I were to die tomorrow, it literally wouldn’t affect anyone. My friends and family would be perfectly fine after about a week, maybe two tops. Barely anyone would come to my funeral, if my family even had one. I don’t have any pets. I’m not in a relationship. Nothing and no one depends on me. If I were to die tomorrow, it would be like I was never here. This thought is simultaneously calming and terrifying

First/Prev
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Mogan was more than a little woozy after repeatedly toasting his deal with the two ladies. Shidhu had an interesting taste to it, but it was also strong. The San had alcohol, but fermenting berry juice or birch sap was a long procedure and took a lot of work and space. There had never been much to drink, and what they had wasn't nearly so strong.
They had also never needed an antidote for alcohol, while those who had alcohol had seen all its dangers many times over. A fizzing, nasty-tasting drink—once the women had left--had his head clear within minutes, and he walked easily, and steadily, out of the bar.
The bar did not look like the kind of drinking establishment that would be favored by the custom of a man who owned and commanded a ship three kilometers long. It was, to put it bluntly, a dive, the kind of place that the constables avoid. The Tortuga was the kind of place where an enterprising individual could buy weapons that weren't normally allowed on Haitac Station, or drugs that weren't allowed, or discrete passage on a ship if he needed to leave in a hurry. It was not the kind of place to bring the family, or a lover, or anybody who was not engaged in activity that was illegal or close to it.
Technically, Mogan could hire whoever he wanted, but since the companies that Races-through-the-Marshes and Wakawa ran had a somewhat... checkered... history, they generally preferred to stay where they could make an easy escape.
Then again, Mogan didn't look like the kind of man who owned a three-kilometer ship. Or commanded, at least; ownership was in the name of the San tribe. Mogan wore a loincloth, a strip of material about three meters long and a tenth as wide, wound between his legs and around his waist for a snug fit. Once upon a time these were doeskin, soft and supple, but nobody but his own tribe within a few thousand light-years had ever seen a doe, or tanned a hide.
His leggings were of tougher material, fringed to help keep the rain off, and his shoes were of a softer sole than most wore. Most Sylfa, at least; many species went barefoot. A tunic of the same material covered his torso down to his hips, likewise fringed. Like the loincloth, these were once deerskin, and in the cold he would wear a heavier coat over it. These were colored and patterned like leather, but he couldn't even identify the material. Softer than leather, it was tougher as well, and a few controls from the pad in his left hand could even make it as warm or as cool as he liked.
The latter was standard for most clothing, protecting from all but the most extreme temperatures, but the rest looked as primitive as it did before his tribe had ever seen a ship.
A rod was tucked into his belt on the left side, bent slightly back. At one end was a hand grip, with straps looped to fit two fingers into, and on the other end was a beautifully-carved ibex,with its horns forming a small but dull hook to the weapon. The atlatl could hurl a spear twice as far or more, and with almost exponentially more force, but Mogan carried no spears.
He did once, in a quiver made of birch-bark, with the bottom third of the spears covered and the feathered ends sticking over his head, but by now the weapon was more a mark of office than a tool he used. Back in those days it was tucked into the right side, in easy reach of his throwing hand, but no more. On the right, it would have gotten in the way of the laser pistol in its low holster on his right hip.
Most people who carried a rifle or pistol either wore or carried a targeting monocle, a lens that would adjust for moving targets and tell the shooter where to aim, but the San needed no such thing, neither the expense nor the time the device took to find a solution and adjust.
The humans were unique in this.
On his cheek was a mark; a simple tattoo, of only two lines in a pattern like an inverted y, the mark of his tribe. He was of average height and build, with brown hair and eyes, skin bronzed from many different winds and many different suns, but among the two thousand people of the San he was high chieftain. And captain, soon.
Mogan continued to walk up the wide hallways, avoiding the central areas, until he spotted the old man. A small wave, and he turned to head that way.
Shett was once one of the Yil, the hereditary nobility of the Sovereignty. The Yil were untouchable within the Sovereignty, able to do as they wished to such an extent that only protection a citizen had was the possible protection of another Yil. Rather than Yil Shett, the man was now simply Shett, a citizen of the Confederated Settlements. And a traitor as far as the Sovereign was concerned, almost certainly.
Yil Shett had been a wise man with a sharp mind, but a little more than heavyset, nearly locked into his office by duty and stress. Now the man was whipcord-thin, typical of the Sylfa, walking easily. Defecting from the Sovereignty had meant giving up unimaginable wealth—the man had literally owned three planets—but it had clearly been a good thing for him.
The Sylfa waved an arm to make sure Mogan saw him, and tapped a panel on the wall. “Good evening, Captain.”
Mogan shrugged a little. It was “evening” in the sense that they were nearing the end of the cycle, but on the station there was no difference between night and day. Haitac was in orbit around a star, so they didn't even have the shadow of the planet to contend with. But the lack of sun and moon often threw off his mental sense of time, and the twenty-hour day did not help.
“Whatever it is at the moment,” he chuckled, “I hope it goes well for you.” The walls of the station had rails near the ceiling. Hanging from them was something that looked more like saddles on cords, so that nearly any creature could sit on them, extending from beams. Some species had tails, after all, and sitting on a bench was uncomfortable for them at best.. The beams moved swiftly down the corridors, an important feature in a station that was mostly corridor.
Haitac Station was part dock, part shipyard, part admiralty court, part military base, and part entertainment complex. The court could be centralized, and was. The military was as centralized as it could be, although patrols also kept the peace in the rest of the station. The entertainment could be centralized, but for some reason was not, with bars and brothels and hotels and sports complexes and libraries and theaters of various kinds in odd and unlikely places. The docks and shipyards could not be. The dreadnoughts that were the backbone of any fleet were four kilometers long, and some were as much as twice that. A massive tanker or cargo hauler could be four or five times as long, and the end result was that the ships needed a great deal of room between each dock. In addition, since it was partly military, sponsored by the Settlements, there were areas, such as the one they were bound to now, that were not open to the general public.
Mogan climbed onto one of the saddles, and Shett onto another. The average Sylfa was about a head taller than a human, but about two-thirds the weight. An evolutionary past that stayed in the trees for longer granted them a lighter build than humans, and six limbs compared to humanity's four, but they could not walk as well as humans.
Then again, nothing could. Nor did any species, sapient or not, hold the endurance that humans had. The Sylfa could scramble up surfaces with an ease that astounded humanity, leap over a human's head from a standing start, and sprint nearly twice as fast, and others like the Shawing could move even faster over a short distance, but nothing matched a human over long distances.
Mogan had carried a Sylfa once, as he ran, but that was his woman, not a friend. Instead, he held to the saddle as the beam returned to the rails at the upper edge of the wall. It adjusted to their heights by simply changing the length of the cords. The Zerda came no higher than his knee for a tall one, while the Mantu were easily three times his height, so very few affairs were one-size-fits-all measures... another difference from the Sovereignty.
The beam rose into the air, moving along the ceiling at a place slightly faster than Mogan could sprint. Up ahead of them a light indicated a spot where they could make the beams lower to the floor again, but they were going well beyond that point. A small field in front of them kept the wind of their passage from getting too bad.
Mogan was familiar with hard light shields, since every ship had them, but he did not think this was hard light. Hard-light was impossible to make without Reagnium-80. Considering every single interplanetary vessel needed a supply of it and its relative rarity, Reagnium-80 was so valuable that the Settlements used it as the value standard for their currency. There were thousands of these beams, all throughout the station. Not only would they have had to spend an obscene amount to make them, but anything that valuable would have been stripped out and stolen within days... cycles, here.
“The war?”
Shett nodded in reply. “We got news not long ago of a large battle at Manna-6. Ground battle. Our forces were outnumbered about half-again-to-one, but it was a heavy victory.”
Mogan nodded and relaxed, thinking. In a sense, this war was his fault.
Two years ago, he had been little more than a shaman of a small village, of a small tribe, on his homeworld—and on the entire planet, only he had understood even the concept of a homeworld. The term the Sovereignty used for the tribe's introduction to the greater galaxy was “upliftment.” Mogan didn't like it; it implied that he was somehow below the others, raised to true sapience by their own beneficence.
Perhaps every “upliftment” had an ulterior motive, but that of the San certainly had. Mogan did not regret his actions on Noepe; he had saved the lives of men and women breaking the law to survive, shot and stabbed a great many people enforcing what was in truth simple tyranny, and electrocuted the governess who had arranged for his woman to be marooned. No, he still looked upon their mission with pride, but one of the Yils had arranged it themselves, as a pretext to invasion. The few who know of humanity knew that Yil Shett had been a friend and advocate for the species, and the many who knew of Yil Shett knew that he had given up his titles and lands and betrayed the Sovereignty to join the Settlements.
Shett tapped a button on the saddle, and as the next light showed ahead the beam lowered to the floor so they could climb off. It wasn't far from here, and they could walk. They did so, for about two hundred yards before they came to a window.
“There's your dock,” Shett said. “I suppose I could have made a holo easy enough, but I thought your first look at her should be with your own eyes.”
Windows were more common in the public areas, where diners—or guests in the more expensive hotels—could look out on the void, and rarer in the corridors that were mostly just for reaching ships with crew or passengers or supplies. Mogan stepped out to this one, looked out over the dockyards, and stared, mesmerized.