I know quitting your job as a cook usually simply comes with two weeks notice or a ragequit walkout, but for eleven months I worked at a new franchise that had such potential which was being squandered by the incompetence of upper management. I present the nearly 6000 word thesis I turned in on my last day. Locations and names have been changed to cartoon references. Brackets represent ambiguous information in place of specific details.
Krusty Krab Careers Jobs
Opening in [Month/Year], Krusty Krab (KK) Bikini Bottom is on its 4th kitchen manager in less than a year. Krusty Krab O-Town has recently let go its inaugural kitchen manager and sous chef. Almost no member of the Bikini Bottom opening management team remains employed by KK. There is a pattern developing where one must question both the choice of employee and the directive given to new franchises. These lingering issues I brought concerns about in the first weeks of opening but was disregarded at every turn despite my experience with festival traffic. As a result I decided this was not a place I wanted to advance, but with a good-enough paycheck I’d be a lowly grunt in the kitchen four days a week, at five days a week I would have quit or been fired over a public outburst long ago. If Krusty Krab alters course slightly while being true to the brand this could be a successful chain.
My unique employment history in brick and mortar restaurants, food trucks, pop up culinary concepts, trade shows/conventions, and the film industry make me an ideal candidate to be on the opening team for new KK locations. My outgoing nature and foresight are valuable assets. For example, on training week before opening when I was standing around idly without a task I took it upon myself to organize the disarray that was dry storage. Overhearing Krabs tell another manager where he wanted the cleaning products placed, I had a jumping off point and the organization I created nine months ago is still largely in place. Since returning from my vacation in early February I have made it my mission to keep the storage area organized because it was again starting to resemble a hoarder’s house rather than a commercial kitchen. This is now part of my weekly routines because every time I turn my back there is more product being placed haphazardly just anywhere with little regard. I also recently reorganized the walk-in cooler because of problematic stocking with items being placed on the same shelf or below raw proteins. I also simply put all the like products together such as cheeses or fruits that were scattered amongst several shelves. With recent overordering I cannot keep up with the organization of the walk in cooler. The pattern recognition of food types and even simple shapes appears to be lost on the Bikini Bottom crew. My daily reorganization of containers is proof of this. Most days I’ll take a few minutes to put all cylinders together, all cambros together in descending volume, all deep and shallow pans next to each other rather than intermixed. My decision to be a kitchen manager at age 19 from 2005 thru 2008 and rarely enter restaurant management since is very calculated.
With my prior knowledge of professional kitchens I was becoming Bikini Bottom’s resident nag to coworkers as I made note of health department violations on a daily basis. I stopped after being largely ignored for two weeks. My regular health department nags include; a battle with jackets and hats being placed only in the designated area (a designated area that did not exist until I created a place for personal items a in January by neatly organizing the dry storage area again), waiting until prepped items are cooled before a cover is placed on top, placement of raw seafood, open containers (very often sugar, flour, and pancake mix bags ripped open and left), and dirty dishes/containers placed back in rotation. The dirty dishes and containers in rotation with the clean ones are at an atrociously high number. I have given up on making the 4th fryer seafood allergy safe too. With the low volume of seafood allergy safe items Bikini Bottom should purchase smaller baskets to visually discourage cross contamination with the other fryers and baskets. My skills to organize the kitchen do not end with simply where to store products to meet minimal health department standards.
Half of the space in the Bikini Bottom kitchen is completely wasted on an ill-advised walkway to the dishpit. An intelligent design would place a second doorway directly to the dishpit connected to the bar or where the bathrooms reside. Numerous times during the opening week of KK Bikini Bottom I said, yelled, sang, and muttered that we have too many food items for the amount of space we have. Icus stated that there was more space than Bluffington. Is Bluffington intelligently designed? Because Bikini Bottom most certainly isn’t. So Bikini Bottom actually has less space even if there is more square footage. See the attached diagram for an intelligent design that could potentially house a menu of this size. Bikini Bottom forces a line design on this kitchen when an open concept is needed for this menu. It’s as if this floorplan was created by a person who had only ever seen one commercial kitchen previously and couldn’t think 4th dimensionally to understand the needs of the workers to smoothly serve customers.
There is not enough counter space for pizzas without getting off the line, the microwave is placed completely out of the way, the freezer’s curved design is a waste of potential counter space and a falling hazard for containers stored on top of it, the toaster is an overcomplicated and overexpensive piece of machinery that serves exactly one purpose when a flat top could be used to toast bread and other purposes like a quesadilla special, sautee was designed without an overhang for spices, the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter for seafood allergies, there are no Frialator fryers which I have worked with at every single kitchen job previously instead we got the cheap Vulcan model (is that logical), the cheap low boy in pantry that doesn’t drain excess water anywhere it’s just supposed to evaporate somehow but doesn’t, the grill and fryer should be placed next to each other (with a higher volume of crossover than other stations), the floors are flat instead on having a mild decline towards the drains (just look at the standing water residing behind the oven right now), in the dishpit the spraying area and the filled sinks are backwards of a logical dipshit, the ramp to the back door is on the wrong side, there is no refrigerated place downstairs to stage extra food for busy shifts (the beer cooler is once again used for such food items because of this massive oversight), the prep station is an afterthought and miniscule, the dishes on the line are difficult to grab for anyone under 5’11” and inaccessible for anyone under 5’6” (instead of putting them underneath tables that also give that desperately needed counterspace I spoke of), there is not enough space to store to-go containers or boats behind the line, expo is lacking a low boy for the numerous items that are supposed to be cold but are instead kept at room temperature all day long, no one in management thought about buying shelves until right before Bikini Bottom opened as a result the clean full sheets sat on the floor for days, we had only the exact amount of 1⁄6 pans for an absurd amount of time making it impossible to rotate and clean them when necessary (which is daily), we still struggle with 1/9 pan supply. And just when I thought I documented all the poor design choices possible I stumbled upon a person whose office holiday party was booked at KK Bikini Bottom. The deck space works just fine as a deck. It does not double well as a gathering space. The space is too long and narrow for parties, it promotes little splitoff groups rather than a coming together of a larger gathering. It may be advantageous to contact a social psychologist for help designing a private party space that promotes intermingling rather than enforcing small pockets to form. The reorganization of the physical kitchen isn’t all that screams for an overhaul.
There are six positions on the line at the Krusty Krab; expo, oven, grill, sautee, fryer, and pantry. But the pantry and fryer positions are forced together like a bad remix. Everyone who mainly works pantry deserves a $6 raise immediately because it is a station and a half. Both Icus and Krumm, while kitchen manager, kind of acknowledged the pantry is too big for one station without outright mentioning the lopsided distribution of work. I imagine in the only location where this works, Bluffington, a second person joins the pantry at noon because of the unreasonable amount of items one person is tasked with. Bikini Bottom only has one person in this position at all times, maybe modify it for one person? The excess of items on the pantry position largely resembles a position I would call “set-up” or “build” at a previous job that made sensible choices. This build position should have tostadas, tacos, butcher’s blocks, toast, salads, lettuce wrap set ups, and preparing plating for whichever station is most bogged down. I have absolutely lost my mind yelling about salads at least once a month, ranting that they do not belong on the fryer position because of how illogical it is that five salads are included on the mountain of other items the pantry has. I have always considered working in a kitchen a kind of dance, and the pantry station demands an unnecessarily convoluted dance to keep up with the demand. Without the salads, tostadas, and tacos the station is already the busiest. Do we really need to combine ballet and swing by including these extra awkward dance steps in this single station? For a kitchen designed this poorly I suppose it is. Again, see attached document for an intelligently designed kitchen that might be able to accommodate this menu. Unless Bikini Bottom is going to close for a month to fix the baffling floor plan design the menu is shouting to be reduced to 30-36 items.
The menu is too big. Krusty Krab is the jack of all foods, master of none. In general I believe individual locations should be allowed 18% omissions, and 18% unique items to this wildly unwieldy menu sitting around 50 food items including sides. The insistence on keeping menu items that don’t sell at Bikini Bottom because of Bluffington is mind boggling. Chicken tenders do not sell at Bikini Bottom. fried sushi does not sell at Bikini Bottom, not enough to justify their place on the line. I don’t care how well these items work in Bluffinton. They. Do. Not. Work. At. Bikini. Bottom. If the KK location in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean sells an incredible amount of live krill does that mean Bikini Bottom and O-Town must sell live krill too? Take the fried sushi off the menu. I had a complete meltdown about this during a Dimmadome service and my valid point was met with indifference. Replace the kid’s tenders with a kid’s fish sticks. We already have the tilapia fish sticks on the line for tacos. Or make the kid’s fish sticks cod. We cut cod to order for fish tacos in spite of health code violations because it is too rare of an order to make beforehand. Saffron in mashed potatoes? If you must. Why are green tomatoes only on the menu during lunch? Bikini Bottom throws away a sizable amount of spoiled green tomatoes each week. Have green tomatoes on the menu all day long or don’t have them at all. The smoked salmon could go on salads or a special taco to justify its place on the line. The corn pico’s place on the line is unjustified. It only goes on one item, tostadas, which are not particularly popular. If we had a taco salad we could throw the corn pico on there. We also have unreasonable waste from unusable taco shells, smash up those imperfect taco shells and throw them on said taco salad. But before we add salads, let's get rid of the pear and kale salads. The pears' position on the line are unjustified, if we threw them on a taco variation maybe their place on the Bikini Bottom line could be argued but for now they only go on a salad that isn’t particularly popular. The kale salad is an issue of space for a 4th green for salads is too much. The krusty salad is my most hated house salad of all time. And it comes down to the toast with goat cheese. This ancillary step of spreading goat cheese on a cracker is an unnecessary step for an overly complicated dance and should be part of the expo dance if expo wasn’t a shoddily designed afterthought lacking a low boy.
There are a plethora of squeeze bottles on the pantry station that have no place on the overloaded station. They belong to an expo station with a low boy to keep them cold. Pantry has an overwhelming ten squeeze bottles: chipotle crema, sweet chili vinaigrette, buffalo, korean bbq, ranch, caesar, wine vinaigrette, lemon vinaigrette, honey mustard, and lemon aioli. Only the first four are justified on an intelligently designed fryer section, the second four belong on the build station, the last two have no place anywhere but expo. With this extra space sautee could keep their bottles and two purees cold in the fryer's lowboy instead of leaving them at room temperature all day inviting a pathogen party. This theorized intelligently designed expo would have room to keep these four squeeze bottles and a double of every sauce chilled to pour them into ramekins, a move that is highly common in the expo dance. The fact that expo doesn’t have a double of all squeeze bottles is foolish. Expo has to bother an overloaded station to pour these side sauces instead.
How many gallons of basil aioli has Bikini Bottom thrown away in 11 months? Four aiolis in general is way too many and most go on a single item; basil aioli on the incredibly unpopular veggie burger, lemon aioli for calamari, sweet chili aioli for the BLT that is only served half of the day, and garlic aioli actually goes on two items…I believe. What a colossal waste of precious little space, lose two aiolis and then you can sing the logical song with me. Perhaps we can put garlic aioli and sweet chili vinaigrette on the BLT separately and accomplish the exact same thing the sweet chili aioli does. The wings too have unneeded complications. Having worked at a sports bar specializing in wings for the better part of a decade I find KK’s plating of wings to be overly pretentious. The carrots, celery, and blue cheese have lost function. Heffer Wolf always said no one eats the carrot/celery julienne with blue cheese. It’s a complete waste of all the ingredients because you’ve gone too far with the presentation. Wings aren’t fancy. Wings are supposed to have a small pool of sauce and be sloppy. It’s like a sloppy joe that’s not sloppy, an unsloppy joe is a failure to sloppy joes just as the KK presentation of wings is a disparagement to the dish. Ever since training week back in 2022 I have used a scale to give Bikini Bottom a passing or failing grade.
Chokey Chicken to Chum Bucket is the scale I use to judge efficiency and sanity at Bikini Bottom. Both establishments are upscale casual dining experiences in Capitol City in the same vein as KK. Chokey had high employee retention and relatively smooth openings for new locations. Chum Bucket’s employee turnover was high and every location opening was chaotic. Which one sounds closer to KK? Chokey Chicken was filled with chefs I respect including Chef Ren Hoek who remains a close friend to this day. Ren lost his lifelong passion for kitchen work after working management at Chum Bucket. He’s actually seeking work in Bikini Bottom. Call him up at [phone number], but KK will give him Nam’ flashbacks of why he chose driving for a living rather than cooking for five years. The pair of us together helming Bikini Bottom with the ability to omit and create 18% of the overloaded menu can bring success to this franchise. We have worked well numerous times in the past on various concepts in the past including creating The Attack of the Pickled Tomatoes Burger for [Promotional live performance of a TV show] at the Capitol City Theater. We served 100 people in 60 at the [sitcom filming] lunch. That’s physically impossible but somehow we did it quite a few times.
A fun anecdote about Ren Hoek’s KK experience from the soft launch; on training week numerous times I brought concerns about being seafood allergy safe that were dismissed. As mentioned earlier the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter, one each of which seafood never touches. Before the soft launch Chef Stimpy from Bluffington insisted all customers just kind of know everything is prone to be seafood contaminated. Well, chef Ren was a customer that night and this absolutely was not communicated to customers. He claimed to have a slight seafood allergy and was not informed of what the crab soup was. In reality he does not have a seafood allergy. I didn’t discuss the seafood issue with Ren, separately we noticed egregious violations of food safety standards and we each responded in our own way. The soft launch service was so awful that night Chef Ren walked out of a free meal to pay for some ramen, never to return to Bikini Bottom. I attribute this oversight, and many of Bikini Bottom’s (and probably O-Town’s) problems to hubris over the Bluffington location.
Chef Chokey would also be hesitant to join the KK team. It will cost a finder’s fee just for me to reveal Chef Chokey’s name. Chef Chokey was a lead in the rapid expansion of Chokey Chicken restaurants. He opened numerous restaurants and was big on the philosophy that each restaurant must have its own personality in order to fit the unique local culture and the variety of working spaces. This is in direct conflict with the KK way that everything must be exactly like the Bluffington location no matter what. There was only one Chokey Chicken location that had the full menu, Chokey Springfield. Chokey Springfield had a large space which was intelligently designed to accommodate such a large menu. The KK menu is all over the place, closing in on 50 menu items which comes up as a failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale. This is not the only area KK comes up as a major failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale.
Has anyone in this company ever worked festival traffic before? Does anyone have the experience of working next to a major venue with 8000 seats before this one? The way Bikini Bottom handles Dimmadome services it certainly appears that the decision-makers fall on the wrong side of the Dunning-Kruger effect. Having all 50 items available during such massive traffic is completely asinine. An unwillingness to serve a partial menu is hindering the Bikini Bottom kitchen staff. I have worked festival traffic before, and Dimmadome events bring in festival traffic. I’ve worked inside a festival whose line never ended but every customer got their order in 5 minutes or less because the line kept flowing with only four items on the menu as that’s what was warranted at the B-Sharps Music Festival. I refuse to be set up for failure the way Bikini Bottom sets up Dimmadome services for failure. The entire week of concerts in [summer] 2022 I was set up for failure every day (it was after this I modified my availability to keep my sanity and my paycheck). When I brought my concerns about running efficiently during Dimmadome services I was labeled a B-worker for the first time in my employment history by Icus and Krabs. It is that moment which I was either going to holler at them both for being 2-dimensional thinkers who were obviously unqualified for the positions they accepted in this company, or just put my head down. If Bikini Bottom has a successful concert day service, hail your team because they snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. They swam with concrete shoes. I often wonder how many customers had bad experiences and never returned after concert days. A Dimmadome service should have no more than 25 items and have one or two specials to divert traffic towards an area the kitchen can keep moving. An Open Cup Open Plate (OCOP) special for foot traffic is absolutely needed. When I suggested OCOP special, Heffer was intrigued by this idea and immediately named burgers as the special to keep foot traffic flowing. Smithers wouldn’t hear this idea, babbling on about what’s advertised instead of hearing out a sound idea. This prattle despite radio commercials having inaccurate hours and social media promoting Bikini Bottom’s steak tacos to this day. I always found Smithers to be a better fit as a middle management office pencil pusher than as a hands-on restaurant manager. Overall I find KK managers are selected to be automatons not to question their orders rather than critical thinkers who could take the restaurant to the next level. During brunch service is another period of time that must be modified to lessen the heft of items. Having a full menu that barely works plus brunch is so deep into Chum Bucket territory, in my opinion we now have to use the Tropic Thunder scale of full [R-word censored by jobs] to describe a 60-plus-item brunch. Chef Ren hired back a Chum Bucket cook who had a mental breakdown and stormed out during brunch (plus full menu) service because Ren knew the employee was justified and upper management was completely unreasonable in their brunch requests. It’s not just questionable decisions that hinder KK staff but improper equipment as well.
This is the first restaurant I have worked at which uses a touch screen on the line rather than tickets. From day one I found this to be technology for technology’s sake inferior to tickets. Chef Ren forced a new Chum Bucket location to rip out touch screens from the line and bring in ticket printers because of the higher efficiency. The touch screen is a great idea for expo, not the entire line. My biggest gripe is that each station does not get all the information. Early on I was regularly yelled at for not staggering my items, well I can’t see the rest of the order; a problem I have never had with a ticket system. Touchscreen software is also much more prone to errors and glitches. When I reported an error during a heavy service Icus and Krabs blamed my skills on the line without looking into the malfunctioning screen further. It was glitchy for weeks before the two finally investigated and corrected the issue I brought to their attention long before. Those two gave me an immense amount of ammunition to dislike them in the opening weeks until I stopped caring. The issue I had with being unable to scroll beyond the bottom of a completely filled screen has returned and is still there as of [my last day]. There are also important details that get buried. A frequent meltdown I have is that sauce on side requests and other important modifications are not capitalized or in red to catch the eye as they have been at jobs with tickets. These details get lost on Bikini Bottom’s touchscreens. A sauce on side salad made by me will be wrong 50% of the time because of the instructions being camouflaged in a word salad. This goes for coleslaw on the side and drizzle on the side too. Drizzle in general I dislike because of the pretentiousness, but whatever, drizzle it on top rather than putting it in a ramekin if you must. There are numerous places where Bikini Bottom overcomplicates matters for reasons I cannot ascertain.
Why is there such a large variety of plates? Why do we have a medium circular plate for salads and a large bowl for salads with protein? This just confuses the simplest of matters. I was told this is done because of the high price hike with protein, a larger presentation was desired. But that price hike is the price of protein in 2023. Bikini Bottom should put all salads in the large bowls and use all the circular salad plates in a skeet shooting promotion. I understand why we have both a circular platter plate and a pizza plate but in my restaurant the circular platter plates must go...or maybe the large platter plate instead. Is the large platter used for anything besides fish and chips? That extra space on fish and chips plates are only used for side sauces which can easily be delivered to customers on small circular plates. What is the medium oval plate doing that the medium rectangular plate isn’t? And vice versa. Why do they both exist when they are approximately the same size? Let me write an internet commercial where we break a lot of plates so we can get some logical use out of the superfluous plates. I don’t care which one is destroyed, the ovals or the rectangles but one of them is an unnecessary redundancy in excess done again. Speaking of commercials, the unimaginative radio advertisements for Bikini Bottom are doing little to lure new customers to the restaurant.
The three radio spots I have heard on KBBL all sound like they were produced by a marketing 101 student who wasn’t a natural in the field. The voiceover actor was so uncharismatic I was certain someone from the office was chosen at random to read the copy. Then I heard that same voiceover actor selling pool supplies on another radio station so I concluded that Bikini Bottom must have hired the cheapest guy in town to produce the most basic of commercials. Perhaps there is someone else you could hire more qualified to voiceover these commercials, an actor with experience on an Emmy award winning cable program whose unique place in the film industry was written about on [website] would be a much wiser choice to be the voice of the KK? (See external link). In the ad there was no catchphrase, no jingle, no music whatsoever. This simple approach to commercials lacks the pizazz to catch the attention of radio listeners. The first two commercials I heard would get a C in marketing 101 as they were nearly the exact same and accomplished the bare minimum to sell wares, the third one would maybe get a B- because there was some sort of attempted gimmick with the voiceover whispering to represent thinking inside his head about what he was going to eat later at KK. Not only does this commercial give no reason for the man to think inside his head, the outside world still and unpopulated. To see what a creative person would do with this concept see the attached script. There is an attempted slogan that could become part of an ad campaign. Commercials aren’t the only lost opportunities in promotions.
There are numerous promotional celebrity tie-ins at Bikini Bottom’s fingertips with Dimmadome performers. The restaurant could have a Phish sandwich as a OCOP special on [Phish performance dates], or a pretentious Jelly Roll on [Jelly Roll performance date]. Has anyone reached out to the Dimmadome theater or talent management for approved special menu items to be promoted inside the dome? Perhaps a special 20% discount to ticket holders? Is Bikini Bottom capable of getting permits to extend Open Container hours beyond [cutoff time] for an afterparty or block party throughout a Dimmadome concert? I see additional marketing opportunities left on the table for all new locations.
I believe new KK locations are missing out on a marketing campaign by opening with the entire cumbersome 50 item menu. This is a staggering amount of menu items which is too much to ask new staffers to perfect all at once. After a few months expanding the menu by approximately ten items is catching to customers who haven’t returned after a single visit or infrequently stop into KK. There are ten new food items that might appeal to them. Just like it appears KK doesn’t know what it’s looking for in a good commercial spot, this company doesn’t appear to recognize a talented from an untalented worker until it’s too late.
It is my understanding that KK had a headhunter to find Icus, the first Bikini Bottom kitchen manager. If it were up to me I’d hire someone to break the legs of that headhunter for bringing in a subpar kitchen lead. We are still attempting to recover from the lousy choices she made in the floor plan. If anybody responsible for Bikini Bottom’s floor plan is still giving input, stop them immediately. Once the doors were open to the public Icus had his head in the clouds to a point where I questioned if he saw the writing on the walls of an imminent demotion and stopped trying as a result. I had a full deck of 3x5 cards in an archaic powerpoint presentation bringing numerous concerns to light that he kept putting off listening to until he was fired. Those same cards were broken out for this essay. The second kitchen manager, Krumm, is a good lesson in honesty. According to Heffer, Krumm was given a bill of goods about how smoothly KK Bikini Bottom was running. Since Krumm stepped into a latrine pit which he was led to believe was a heated pool, he left in short time. Krumm also had plans to modify the menu but when his bosses told him to be a rodeo clown rather than a cowboy Krumm didn’t take too kindly to that. Meanwhile Heffer was the savior of the Bikini Bottom kitchen. I didn’t agree with every single decision he made, but I did with a majority of them. Heffer’s overhaul was such a blessing so I didn’t have to fiddle with the organization of 60% of the equipment anymore, only about 20% now. Too bad Heffer’s crippling depression came back after bashing his head into the wall out of frustration with the shackles KK restrained him with.
The current management team is enthusiastic but inexperienced. I see an accumulation of small infractions that might bring down Bikini Bottom’s health department rating significantly. I see the entire management team being inattentive or unaware about organizational issues. Whatever bureaucratic nonsense corporate tasks everyone with from the original sous chef Skeeter to Patty Mayonnaise that makes them walk away from the line between 11am and 1pm especially is infuriating. I have never been left alone on a multi-person line during peak hours so regularly, and I won’t tolerate it anymore. As much as I believe in his drive, I imagine our current kitchen manager SpongeBob will be let go after a disastrous service during the Dimmadome concert season that someone has to take the fall for. Chef Ren and I could help bring experience in management and dealing with festival traffic...if corporate does not force us to follow a failing strategy.
After working nearly a year at KK you may ask why I’m not proficient on more than one station. Excellent question. First, when I move over to another station the squeeze bottles are never labeled (until Stu Pickles was hired, now they’re sometimes labeled), so I always looked at the glut of unlabeled sauces and I’d go back to my station because the basic information is missing (also a health department violation for having numerous unlabeled, unchilled bottles). In his first week the new general manager Stu Pickles pulled out 90% of the containers under the grill station because they were lacking labels despite an expected health department visit. The second reason for my menu ignorance is the mountain of prep for my own and upcoming shifts I have piled up on my station throughout service. My attention to detail appears to be next level with my ability to anticipate stocking all items for all shifts including the weeknd. The third reason I wouldn’t learn multiple stations is a defense against the afternoon conference calls. In [month] the Bikini Bottom line was unprepared for a busy post lunch because one cook was cut and our expo person was busy with a conference call. The two of us remaining on the line had a miserable slog through an unexpectedly busy afternoon. When I brought this up to Krabs he disregarded me, being a good bean counter he quoted the cost percentage. What he didn’t take into account was the missing expo person who could have jumped on the line and expo to help the understaffed two man team. That person was stuck on a conference call. Just recently I saw the company actively lose money because of this poorly thought-out meeting during business hours. A customer wanted to order a dessert that was 86ed but had been restocked by our prep cook an hour before. The server was unable to sell them their dessert because the only person in the building who could help un-86 an item was on a conference call. This conference call calamity is another bone-headed choice that speaks to a larger decision-making problem within the corporate structure. Finish the conference calls by 10:45 am eastern.
In conclusion, I quit my position as a lowly grunt for this company because of its unwarranted perplexing dance steps and below average management. I don’t care how much varnish and lacquer is supplied, I refuse to polish this Bikini Bottom turd as a manager or full-time employee under the current circumstances. You would have to take a pickaxe to the floor, possibly relocate the bathrooms to add a door to the dishpit, get rid of the cheap low boy that doesn’t properly drain excess water, and Mr Gorbachov knock down that wall in the middle of the kitchen to give the proper amount of space to work. Or simply reduce the menu to 36 items (including sides) because that’s the amount of space this dreadful design can comfortably output. Would Gordon Ramsay compliment KK for all the unnecessary convoluted complications abound, or would Chef Ramsay yell about keeping it simple and demand KK chuck it in the flip? Thanks to the numerous pop up restaurants I have been a part of and the hectic world of trade shows/conventions, I may have more experience than anyone else employed by KK in smoothly opening a new location. I would enjoy being part of the opening team to ensure new locations have an efficiency Bikini Bottom lacks, and to keep upper management away from their worst instincts. Work with me and Chef Ren and we will help you become a well oiled machine like Chokey Chicken instead of the Chum Bucket cesspit Bikini Bottom currently embodies.

Foundations of Humanity 27 (New Horizons) - an NoP fanfic
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Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for establishing the Nature of Predators Universe, and for allowing Fanfics to flourish!Thank you again, u/Braquen, u/Acceptable_Egg5560, u/BiasMushroom721, and last but not least u/Liberty-Prime76 for proofreading! Also, thank you u/Frostborne for your blessing on my Gojid City name! This is my side of the Nature of a Giant crossover)!
Also Star Tours is a Disney copyright which I use in good faith and humor under fair use please don’t hurt me capitalist mouse daddy.
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Memory transcription subject: Valek, Venlil tourist
Date [standardized human time]: Sept 11th, 2136. Middle of 3rd Claw
I watched Maeve find an open station and investigate the helmet while I asked, “Do Humans have Visor arcades?”
“Oh, absolutely! There’s an entire League for VR!” Maeve awkwardly slipped into the seat and found the controls; after a moment the seat started to adjust itself to size, the sudden movement causing Maeve to jump.
Alvi spoke up beside me, “Maeve has a book that talks about it. It talked about headsets and digital worlds like what we have, over a hundred years ago!”
“A hundred years ago?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. “Are you really saying that our tech is a hundred years behind yours with VR?”
“Eh, not exactly,” Maeve tilted her head as she thought, “with things like visors, there was an upper limit to how to design them. Most of the innovations were on how realistic the visors could make the media. We got video down pretty quickly, and surround-sound was pretty much figured out by then. We experimented with scent and that did not go well. Really most of the progress has been in processing, and you guys still have us beat on that!”
She picked up the viewing device. There were three kinds of stations with different sized helmets for each. The first she investigated were Dossur to Zurulian sized, but it only took a moment to find a Sivkit to Gojid size. “Looks like these could fit me. Can you two wait long enough to see if this works with humans?”
I flicked my ears in amusement and posed myself overdramatically. “I’m sure that I, your poor starving mate, can continue starving while you enjoy yourself.” I giggled while Alvi slapped me with her tail. “Go on, have fun! I’m also curious to see if the program would work with your eyes.”
With a look around to ensure no one was watching, Maeve switched her veil for the helmet, after only a few moments of effort. The collar thickness was adjustable to help the foam complete a clean seal against the jaw. I touched my pre-paid band to the tap pad, and the machine shifted colors to show it was occupied. The helmet was designed for snouted species, and so hung somewhat past Maeve’s chin, allowing us to see light reflected off her skin.
A screen beside her lit up with the mask, and we could see what she saw while she played. Alvi and I walked her through the tutorial and calibrator, and Maeve chose Jewels of the Federation at my suggestion; a simple walking simulator showcasing highlights of Federation homeworlds.
The simulator starts us in the same arcade, in the same booth! A well-groomed Venlil stands beside her and reminds Maeve of her private tour. Maeve ‘walks’ while still seated and lifts her virtual self from the digital booth, following the guide to a launch pad that didn’t previously exist. Alvi and I stopped in shock for a moment when a noticeably younger Captain Sovlin walked down the gangway of our destination shuttle; though judging by Maeve’s lack of reaction, she seemed not to recognize him; Alvi met my eye and pointedly flicked her ears. The simulated Gojid pilot wags their ears genially as they throw their arms wide in welcome.
“Good waking, citizen of the Federation! Star Tours has invited me to escort you on an introduction to the astounding marvels of our great peoples! Every species has made wondrous contributions to the enlightenment of the Federation, but the strayu is in the oven, so we’ll only get the time to visit your own Venlil Prime, The Cradle, and Nishtal today. Follow me and we can begin!”
Maeve followed Sovlin into the cockpit of the stylized shuttle and took the copilot seat; Maeve’s head was on a swivel and she took in everything around her. “Wow, this is so cool! Your whole helmet is a screen! Our VR is only in front of our eyes, tricking our brains into seeing three dimensionally.” Her voice echoed around the helmet, muffling her words before they could reach us..
The shuttle lifted gently and Maeve’s chair tilted back with it. Coming up, we could see that this arcade was in the Capitol, and they did a flying pass to show its glass spires and bustling spaceport. Sovlin spoke up beside Maeve, “The Venlil Homeworld is in a strategic position within the Federation, and you make your people proud by fulfilling your duty to the Herd; in spite of your weakness and timidity!!”
The shuttle started to pitch to the open center of the city, and a large park came into view. “But, as I-” Sovlin’s voice caught in his throat, before he cleared it and spoke with firm authority, “As we all know: Duty sometimes comes with Sacrifice. And we honor and remember that… sacrifice with the beautiful Cattle Memorial!”
The vines of Morning Light catch the sun, and I feel my ears fall as I remember my own family’s sacrifices. Alvi caught my distress, and curled her tail around me as the simulation continued, “Here we remember the lives lost from the ruthless barbarity of the Greys. We hope that this Shining Beacon may guide their bodies and souls back to the Herd.” The shuttle kept flying straight toward the ground, but the shuttle surroundings started to disappear as Sovlin and Maeve joined the mourners and wellwishers. The breeze played gently with unopened letters and fresh bouquets. Sovlin spoke softly, in respect for visitors, “It is open all claws, and many leave their remembrances. Make sure to show your support, next time you’re in the Capitol.”
After several moments of contemplative silence, the shuttle pulled up into the upper atmosphere, and Maeve’s seat began to shudder. I spoke up a little louder so she could hear me through the helmet, “Set your head back. The next part might make you a little queasy.”
Maeve did as bidden just before Sovlin hit the warp jump, and the screen was awash with a rainbow of colors streaking to the outer border.
We fall out of Warp just above The Cradle, its capital continent in view surrounded by great oceans, while other landmasses curve around the planet and out of sight. The camera quickly descends through the atmosphere and we pull into the great city of Vala’s Embrace, with its shining spires and sprawling seaports. We fly down through the airspace busy with cargo freighters and I see Maeve involuntary flinch after a close miss. “The Gojid are a proud and fierce people, but also industrious! Our Cradle and Colonies are a major food source for the rest of the Federation, in addition to the significant extractions performed by our colonies and outposts.”
The camera flies into the center of the city where stands a grand Cathedral to the Protector, Her robed form guiding believers to the grand entryway. “But my People are renowned for our stalwart loyalty to our faith and to the Federation. Our great houses of worship are monuments of our devotion to protecting the Herd from the Predator Menace!”
After a pass around the building highlighting its traditional stonework and heraldry, the camera joins the throng of worshippers, coming in low like a child beside their parent, and we see the full glory of The Church.
Our view pans up from the crowd to a ceiling decorated with murals of inlaid wood and metals. Vibrant colors, textures, and shining light tell the story of Vala driving out the Predators and forming the first Herd. Stained glass windows cover the congregation in pools of color almost as varied as the congregants themselves. A silver Gojid passes from behind us, towering tall with the kind eyes of one who knows their faith, and is safe in its love. They lay a paw on Maeve’s shoulder and guide her to a bench only a few rows from the front, with a seat on the aisle. The Priest stands before their podium and begins a sermon of service to the Herd, and one’s role within it.
The priest’s voice fades into the background as we fly backward out of an open window like a bird; words of Predators at our doorstep fading on the wind. We rise to re-exit the atmosphere, Maeve’s chair buzzing as the hyperdrive spins up.
We warp into a field of defensive space stations, glittering proudly in the Nishtalian Sun. Below, we see a planet with a great many islands, webbed with weaving waterways and small seas. Maeve pressed herself further into the seat as we entered their thicker atmosphere, the seat vibrations causing the helmet to rattle against it.
“And here we have the vibrant marshes of Nishtal!” We broke through the clouds to see massive arbors climbing back into them. We approached the Nishtal Capital sprawled across dozens of kilometers of archipelago, held above the water by meta-material supports.
“Nishtal is well known for its punishing environments, which helped to mold the Krakotl into Pan-Galactic Heroes! From Captain Kalsim, to Merchant Captain Malins, to Chief Exterminator Estela. Each renowned for holding the line against the predator taint, through fire or rail! And this is where their mettle was tested!”
The shuttle flies around a flat paved area, surrounded by landing pads as warships lift and land. In the center was a platoon of Krakotl performing training exercises. The shuttle again falls away as we start walking behind a Commander, Sovlin walking beside him as he speaks over his shoulder, “The Krakotl have been an instrumental force in maintaining our peaceful way of life. If you think you have what it takes, be sure to register for the JEOTC so you can help make the galaxy a better place!”
Sovlin met the eye of the Krakotl commander beside him, “Thank you for your service, Sir.”
We split off from the commander, and our walking transitioned back to our shuttle before firing off back into the sky.Through the vibrating chair, Maeve stuttered out, “M-M-Man Y-You-u-u Guys-z-z-z’re R-R-Real-l-ly into this-s-s W-W-War, huh??”
Suddenly the chair threw Maeve forward, almost unseating her as she suddenly fell out of warp, “We have Grey contacts! Time to turn tail and get out of here! I’ll stay on the guns and when I say Go, you push that throttle as hard as you can! OK…!” A Metallic handle started to glow in front of her, and Maeve reached out with her controller to grab it. It took her a moment, but Sovlin never gave the signal… Until she grabbed on. “GO!” Maeve rocked her body forward and slammed the throttle to its limiter, the seat beneath her rumbling with renewed vigor.
After only a moment, a Kolshian Capital Ship dropped from subspace in front of us and fired a volley of Everything in the direction behind us. Our ship slowed and Sovlin cheered from the pilot’s chair, “HaHa! The Vanguard has arrived! Thank you for your help gentlemen!”
A portrait feed popped up on and above the control panel, showing General Kalsim’s distinct banding on his beak. “This is General Kalsim, Commander of the Federation Vessel Inatala’s Will. Star tours, have you suffered any damage?” The portrait squawked as the General’s feathers puffed with pride.
“Negative General, thank you for the save!”
“Understood, let’s get you home, Star Tours.”
“We would be very grateful, General! Protector guides you.”
The chair beneath Maeve vibrates and tilts back as the hyper-drive charges up again, the screen flashing to show the sprawling oceans of Aafa, glittering brilliantly in the shining sun, dotted by its giant floating cities and lush tropical islands. A flock of broad chirping seabirds adorned with vibrant colors gliding on the calm ocean breeze flanking the shuttle. The capital of Aafa grew on the viewscreen, the sprawling Governance Center of the Federation dominating the city, swooping lines and a singular towering dome marked the chambers of the Federation senate.
“Isn’t that a beautiful view? This is what we fight for, this is the Cradle of the Federation, the very heart of our enlightened civilization. This is what we protect.”
The camera pans low, the shuttle falling away, sweeping along the streets of the capital.
The dome grew ever larger in the background until the camera began to soar over busy diplomats entering the senate floor, the camera like a very lost Flowerbird. Chief Nikonus was delivering an impassioned speech to the gathered representatives, declaring the grand aims and lofty goals of the Federation to spread peace and safety to all Prey peoples. The camera panned around the room, showing representatives listening to the speech with focused ears and attentive eyes, pausing on the Venlil Representative, swaying their tail in pride and determination. As the camera finished its rotation it exited through the rooms wide glass panes, rising up and over the city as the shuttle reformed once again, breaching through the atmosphere and up into the stars.
Maeve’s seat rumbled as the hyperdrive spooled again, the screen clearing to show the Capital of Venlil Prime once more, soaring down to the arcade the adventure had started in. Captain Sovlin’s voice echoed from the speakers.
“Thank you for joining me today on Star Tours! Be sure to visit your nearest Federation recruitment center today and do your part!”
With fading fanfare, the seat returned to a neutral position and Maeve took off her helmet to meet our eyes. “That… was definitely a thing. It had a lot of… uh… ho boy.”
“Yeah, uh.” I shifted my weight awkwardly, “Watching that as an adult is… Stars, I remember wanting so badly to sign up. But my mom stopped me.”
“I’ll have to thank her when we get home.” Alvi sighed with exaggerated relief.
“You and me, both.” Maeve said through a relieved chuckle, “You guys want a turn? I’d like to do something more chill; cleanse the palate.”
Alvi and I politely declined, before I offered, “Actually I wanted to show you something. I don’t know how you guys have fun, but Shipper is really good.”
I guided Maeve to the catalog and pointed out the correct one. As the game started up and Maeve got the ship moving, she snorted and muttered to herself, “Of course you have Trucking Simulator In Space. Why am I even surprised.”
---
Maeve was making great progress, and had made two deliveries before the low fuel warning began trilling at her.
“Nah, see, you gotta watch your fuel too! The more you haul the more fuel you use, and you still gotta make it to your drop-off.”
“Wow, you guys do not mess around with these work simulators. We actually had a whole era of these a wh- Hey!”The screen locked up, telling us our 30 minutes were up.
“W-What does it say?”
“It says it's time to stop and get some food!”
“Ahh, man I was just getting the hang of it.”
“And I would like to get a hang of some Mel Root wedges. Come on!” Alvi chimed with a playful whine.Maeve rolled out of the station, and after a moment for her legs to remember what walking was, donned her veil and we continued to the food court. Pushing the doors open we saw a veritable swarm of Venlil of all ages, though many of the younger were already sitting while their parents fetched their meal. A child near the door caught sight of us and squeaked in surprise, alerting their parents to our presence.
Conversation died like a wave across the open expanse. Maeve stood stock still, and so did we, trying very very hard to avoid a panic and stampede.
I spoke in barely a whisper, “Maeve?”
She returned my quietness, “Yes, Valek?”
“I don’t want to do this to you, but I think it is best if we find a seat first… Then Alvi or I can get the food.” My tail began to sway in slow caution while my ears kept on a swivel.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right. Can you see any open tables?”Alvi flicked her tail at the balcony, “I see stairs there, and the balcony looks pretty clear.”
Maeve started to nod reflexively before catching herself, then back to keeping her head low and unfocused.
Alvi and I guided her gently around the outer perimeter of the court, slowly working our way to the stairwell while all eyes and ears were locked on us the whole journey. We stepped up the stairs and conversation slowly built up again, though not to the same exuberancy as before. We found our seat just outside the stairwell on the 2nd floor. We tried to avoid scaring what few families remained on the balcony, but despite our efforts, those few almost immediately grabbed their belongings and moved. It was almost comical how little they tried to hide it. Yet also surprising in that there hadn’t been any screams or stampeding. It left a strange feeling in the air. One that felt somehow both better and worse than if they had screamed.
This tension was not lost on Maeve, as she muttered to herself, “Plague bearer, or horrific monster. Decisions, decisions.”
I took her hand in my paw in a feeble attempt to offer what comfort I could. Alvi was the first to speak, “Well, Valek you got the Gravity room and Visor game, so I’ll handle food. Anything the two of you desperately want?”
We gave her our orders and she stepped down the stairs, leaving Maeve and I alone on the balcony.
I hoped to loosen the tangle of this horrid tension. “Sooo…. Biblical?”
As I had hoped, the sudden change snapped Maeve out of her stormcloud and laughter bubbled from her like the Sun! “UUh… That’s uh. Complicated. There’s a good thousand years of linguistic context that makes that word mean what it meant the way I used it. The Bible is a book of faith for a significant portion of people on earth. Not all, and not even a majority; hell, even that is fragmented because no one can agree on what it really means. This Bible teaches a great many things, some good some bad, but one of its teachings is how to… legitimize relationships. Get married, basically.”
Maeve leaned closer to me on the off chance the balcony was less empty than we believed, “And one of the more serious ways to officiate these pairings was with sex; or ‘mating’. As this faith quickly became one of the more influential faiths on our planet, most of humanity learned and still has complicated feelings about sex and intimacy. So, we talk around it. ‘Sleeping together’ ‘Do the nasty’ ‘The beast with two backs’ and more to the point: ‘To know someone biblically’.”
“So when you said…”“I was saying I had sex with one of you, yes.”
I focused my ears in feigned shock, while my tail swished with mischief, “I was that one, right?”
Maeve lightly shoved my shoulder while she straightened to her normal posture, but I stayed low. “Hey,” I whispered, nodding my head for Maeve to come closer, and she did so. I reached my paws up to her white veil, and brought it up and over her face, revealing her brightly blooming face which my lips eagerly met. Pulling away, I asked, “Perhaps once we get back to the hotel, we could… know each other biblically?”
She pulled my face back to hers, returning my affections with equal vigor, “Only if we can get Alvi out of the room. I want you all to myself.”
Alvi. Right. She’s… she’s here. Staying with us. And we would be… kicking her out. The one she admitted feeling for would be kicking her out to mate with someone else. But she understands! Right?
“Oh, looks like Alvi got us some food!”
My ears snapped behind me as Maeve looked over my shoulder.
---
Memory transcription subject: Alvi, Venlil tourist
Date [standardized human time]: Sept 11th, 2136. Middle of 3rd Claw
I stepped lightly up the stairs while balancing the trays within my arms. There were so many options! Cresting the top of the stairs, Valek stood to assist. While I covered the menu.“Ok we got all of our favorite fruit, I know how much you love starberries, Maeve.” Who smiled broadly under her now-open veil. “I was able to get us some Sunbreeze, but most of the food stands had long waits and I was hungry, so I just got a plate of fried veg and called it good. This one is the fried Deeproot, and powdered lakeseed dough balls, and some mel root wedges. The arcade’s mel root is a little heavy on the firefruit.”
“Thank you, Alvi!” Maeve picked up one of the larger wedges and broke it in half with me. We lifted our pieces in celebration and bit down at the same time. Immediately my mouth was alight with bright heat and my lips stung blissfully, but after only a moment the sweet and full flavor of the mel root complimented perfectly with the cleansing fire.
Maeve beside me scrunched her face and gasped, “Whoo!” She hooted, “That is spicy! Mm! That potato is really good though. What do you call this?”
I wagged my tail, happy to see that she appreciated the- wait. “Potato? That’s Mel Root. What’s a Potato?”
Maeve licked her fingers before taking another wedge, “It’s a root tuber; a staple food from earth. Mel root, or, well, cooked mel root, has a really similar consistency to potato! Makes sense since they’re both roots.” She took a bite of her wedge and immediately made that same face, “Ooo that was a mistake, I should have finished talking.” a few quick breaths through her mouth before she continued, “Your mel root is denser, closer to a carrot, but still really starchy. The fry really brings out a lot of sweetness; I’ll admit, it goes really well with the firefruit. Good choice Alvi!”
The praise set my tail to wagging as I bit into my food. So spicy! So good! I am so glad we came to this food court!
Speaking of, “I haven’t seen Tarlim or his human. I hope they haven’t changed their minds on meeting here.” I spoke through a masticated root.
“Wouldn’t blame them if they did,” Valek grumbled, tail curling between his legs, “I was just like everyone who’s been running from us…” He trailed off sinking into his chair.
“You could have handled it better, but so could he.” I sighed, remembering that chair. “From what I’ve heard of those places though, I can’t say I blame him.”
Maeve set down a piece of deeproot and looked at Valek. “What are those places? You guys got really scared when he said he got out of one.”
Valek was the first to speak, “They are places where we put people who are a danger to themselves or the Herd; people with Predator Disease.”
My fur flared at the mention of my almost-diagnosis. Maeve noticed and flattened the fur along my spine, “You’re not a predator Alvi. There is nothing wrong with you.”
She says while you continue stuffing your face like a hun--SHUT UP!! I AM NOT!! I AM LOVED!! I AM IN A HERD! THAT KNOWS AND STAYS! SHUT UP!
Maeve watched Valek while she continued to comfort me “And… how does one get predator disease?”
Valek continued his lesson, while I tried desperately to slow my spinning mind.
“Well… the federation tells us it can be spread by ‘predator taint’, or spending too much time around or with predators. I’m… I’m not sure I believe that. But we know it can be inherent. Sometimes symptoms begin as early as an infant. As well, it can appear randomly or be carried within family lines.”“And how does one get diagnosed?”
I thought about when my teacher first called the Exterminators. I remembered the Exterminators coming to my foster family. They talked them down, but it wasn’t long after that that they ‘couldn't take care of me’.
My voice left my mouth unbidden, “Well those born with it… they tend to get diagnosed early, but sometimes Predator Disease can come out later in life. If someone is reported for Predator Behavior, they have a chance to argue their case to the exterminator on duty. If the exterminator confirms the case, they are taken in to be diagnosed. And if it’s a yes, they are taken to a Correctional Facility to be taught how to be in a herd.”
Valek tapped his claws against the table as his tail shook with desperate hope. “See? There’s several checks on the way to a diagnosis. The system is designed to avoid false positives. If Tarlim was diagnosed, I am sure it was with good cause.”
Maeve shook her head, “I’m not so sure. By my count, there were only two people in that chain, three if you count the person reporting it, and at best only one of them was a medical professional, unless I’m misunderstanding the concept of exterminators. Setting that aside, I think I’m missing something. What is Predator Disease?”
“It’s when someone is a Predator in the body of a Prey. We can see them when they don’t work within a herd, or they don't understand our tail signals. These people are a danger to the herd, both passively and, if left unchecked, directly, so we try to teach them how to be Prey.” Valek looked desperately at Maeve after spouting the information, almost as if by rote. Like he was quoting an exterminator textbook.
“Wait, wait… so it’s a behavioral disease? They can’t grasp body language, or other people’s feelings?” Maeve was appearing more confused, more… afraid. Was predator disease so terrible among humans? Then why would she want me around?
Because she doesn’t know, stupid! But she's about to! They never stick around once they find out!
Valek was adamant. Maeve needed to know this, I know she did. “It’s not just that, they can’t even get themselves to be part of a herd! They always sit or move with nobody around them!” but once she did…
“Well then. What would that make me?”
My eyes froze in their sockets and my legs refused to flee.
The Night called us.
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Previous Chapter Table of Contents
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Sarah's Perspective
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As I looked up at my boss, I could feel my heart racing with nervousness. No matter how much I do my job, whenever I’m asked a question, I feel like I’m back in school and didn’t do the homework. “Sarah, would you be so kind as to please explain what Dr. Shepherd’s report means in plain English,” my boss asked, bringing me back to the present moment?
I took a deep breath and looked down at the report Isaac had prepared, scanning through the pages to identify the parts my boss referred to as “not plain English.” As I flipped through the pages, I could feel my palms starting to sweat with anxiety as every pair of eyes bore down on me.
Finally, I found the section my boss referred to and started summarizing the key findings in my own words. “The object was observed for six months before reaching the heliosphere, which is the space we believe is the edge of our solar system,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I paused, looking for the next section.
“Then, the new telescope gave us good readings and measurements on size and speed. This thing appears to be very big,” I continued.
“Approximately two weeks ago, the object completed a turning maneuver and turned on the engines to slow down. In those two weeks, we have seen a measurable reduction in speed. The transit estimate time for the entire heliosphere went from approximately four months to two years, give or take one year, due to the margin of error in our calculations,” I finished, looking up to see the other diplomats and delegates in the room staring at me with varying degrees of concern and disbelief.
“Any questions?” I asked, hoping that someone would come forward with a reassuring response and take the focus away from me.
As I finished my summary, my boss looked at me and said, “Thank you, Sarah. Why is there such a large uncertainty?” I blinked, trying to understand the question and how to answer it.
After a moment, I slowly replied, “Because we don’t know what the object will do. It might cut its engines after slowing down 1% or increase engine power and slow down further. There are many factors that could come into play, and we are still trying to understand them.”
My boss nodded, deep in thought, and then continued, “In light of the clear images we now have, we know this will be some form of first contact. We must be prepared no matter the kind of first contact. We will be relocating to Texas to better coordinate between all the teams involved, science, diplomats, military, and others.”
I couldn’t believe it. I knew we were talking about moving, but now it was happening. I couldn’t wait to call Issac and tell him the good news. I was finally going to see my kids daily, not monthly.
My boss continued, “Anyone not transferred to Texas with us will receive new assignments over the weekend and need to report to their new departments. It was a pleasure serving with you all. For those of us moving to Texas, you have two weeks off to make it there without any issues. We will have our first all-hands meeting on the Monday after two weeks. If you have any questions, please address them to your coordinators.”
As the meeting ended, I felt a sense of excitement and relief wash over me. I said my goodbyes to the few colleagues I knew were not coming with us to Texas and headed toward the front door. The thought of being closer to my children was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.
Once outside, I hailed a taxi and quickly gave the driver my address. I couldn’t wait to call Issac and tell him the good news. As I dialed his number, my heart raced with anticipation, but to my disappointment, he didn’t pick up. So, I decided to text him instead. I told him I had good news and asked him to call me back as soon as possible.
As we drove through the city, I pulled out my phone and looked up plane tickets to Texas. A flight was available on Tuesday morning, which would be perfect timing for me to finish everything over the weekend and turn in my keys on Monday.
The taxi dropped me off in front of my apartment building before Issac could call me back. As I walked up the stairs to my apartment, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy. The apartment was now nearly empty, with nothing but a blow-up mattress in the living room, a cheap chair I had picked up from a local store, and a single suitcase I had taken back and forth from Texas. No pictures, mementos, or personal touches would make this place feel like a home. All of that already moved, and I was here alone.
I walked to the kitchen and reheated some takeout on my only plate. As I sat down to eat with a plastic spoon, I felt a wave of gratitude. My “Bachelor Lifestyle” was finally ending, and I couldn’t wait to be reunited with my children. It was time to start fresh in Texas, and I was ready for a new beginning.
After finishing my meal, I washed the plate and decided to frame it as a bittersweet reminder of what I went through when I got home to Texas. I froze mid-wash, realizing this was precisely what Issac went through when we decided to move to New Your City. With a shudder, I resolved that I would apologize for what I had put him through.
​
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​
John Cooper, 3 months after object turned on engines.
​
I spent my last day in the office at Langley poring over the latest images and reports from NASA. A sinking feeling grew in my stomach as I looked through the data. The eggheads have been geeking and writing report after report of all the wonderful and crazy things they were discovering. My job as the realist was to look at the worst-case scenario.
The images showed what appeared to be an alien craft, and the size of it was measured in thousands of miles. I prayed that the eggheads had made a mistake, that they had added a zero or two or misplaced the decimal point, but deep down, I knew that was wishful thinking. It would change everything we knew about our place in the universe if it was real.
Even more troubling were the tubes that the eggheads didn’t label as anything but suspiciously looked like launch tubes to me. They were estimated to be multiple miles in diameter. To put that into perspective, it was large enough to engulf a small Midwestern town and still have plenty of room for some cows. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
Pouring a finger of whiskey, I sat down at the computer to hammer out my last report from this office. Thankfully the eggheads have been adding “Layman’s Abstracts” as they labeled it, so my job was now to add the things their Utopian minds didn’t think of.
Still, I kinda felt offended by the label “Layman’s.” The first time I read it, I thought it said “Lame-man’s.”
As I sat there, sipping my whiskey and staring at the screen, I couldn’t help but wonder what the aliens’ ultimate goal was. Did they want to conquer us, or were they just passing through? Did they want to teach us something, or were they studying us like lab rats? And what did their presence mean for our future?
The fact that the aliens had brought about world peace was a silver lining but also a double-edged sword. It was true that no one wanted to waste bullets on each other anymore, but the new threat also had us all on edge. We were all just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I chuckled, imagining the aliens compensating with big guns for something, but I knew better. The reality was rarely that simple. The fact was were finally working together, sharing information and resources to prepare for the unknown.
Reagan was absolutely right. Nothing united humanity quite like a universal outside threat. We were shipping bullets and missiles to every country willing to build a bunker deep enough to hide it. We were basically treating explosives and ammo like candy on Halloween. And no one was complaining about budgets since there was a decent chance the banks would go away if the world ended.
Maybe?
I took a sip of my whiskey and leaned back in my chair. The idea of the aliens compensating with big guns for something still lingered in my mind. I wondered if they were as afraid of us as we were of them. Or maybe they were just being cautious. After all, they were the ones with the advanced technology.
As I finished typing up my report and printed out a few copies. As the printer spit out each document, I placed it in an envelope, sealed it with my stamp, and hand-wrote the date and time. One was for my official file. The next was for my boss. The last was for his boss.
As I walked over to my boss’s office with the two envelopes I had just sealed, I was already running through the list of things I needed to do next. This was the last time I would make this walk, at least until the next time I get stationed here. If the world doesn’t end at the next of this next assignment.
Once I arrived at my boss’s office, I knocked on the door and waited for him to call me in. As I entered, I handed him the envelope meant for him and explained that it contained my final report from Langley. I then gave him the second envelope, which was for his boss. As he took it from me, he thanked me for my work in this office and asked how my preparations for the move to Texas were going. I told him everything was in order and that I needed to pack my personal belongings and transfer my equipment.
He wished me luck and said he was sad to see me go. I said it was only sad if everything got blown to smithereens. Otherwise, we had more dances to have in the future. He nodded and ripped open one of the envelopes I delivered.
I left his office and walked out of the building to the car. All I had to do was load my single luggage case of clothing and momentous up my car and set off on the long 20 drive to Texas. Maybe longer if I got stuck in New Orleans again. In any case, I had to be there on Monday at a 9 am meeting as the new security advisor for future operations.
​
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​
Issac’s perspective
​
Eventually, I saw my wife’s missed call and text messages and called Sarah back. She told me the good news that she was being transferred full-time to Texas. And I couldn’t be happier. It had been months of her flying back and forth. The thought of her finally being here with me was comforting. The next day I called my brother and explained the situation to him. He and his friend were more than happy to help with the kids while I picked up Sarah from the airport.
I arrived at the airport early, eagerly awaiting Sarah’s plane’s landing. As soon as she stepped out of the terminal, I ran up and embraced her tightly. It felt like the world had stopped spinning, and for a moment, everything was perfect.
We returned to the house, and Sarah asked about my brother’s friend after greeting the kids. I could tell by the look on her face that she had figured out something I had missed. My brother and his friend exchanged nervous glances.
They said they’ve known each other for a while. They met at work. But then Sarah dropped the bombshell question: “How long have your brother and his friend been dating?”
My brother and his friend froze, and I felt like the world had come to a screeching halt. I had no idea that they were even dating, and it never occurred to me to ask. I felt like a complete fool for not putting two and two together. And after the initial shock, everything seemed to work out just fine. My brother and his friend seemed happy, and I was glad they had found each other.
Life was going well for me. Working with Sarah and Miles in the same building was great, and I enjoyed my job. However, the looming thought of the end of the world was always in the back of my mind. Ignoring the reports and rumors of the aliens and their intentions took a lot of work. But I tried to focus on the positive aspects of my life and not let the fear consume me.
That didn’t stop the reports pouring in, each more detailed than the last. We learned that the object was much larger than we had initially thought. And it seemed to be dumping an unbelievable amount of energy to slow down. All the instruments and measurements showed that it was slowing down at a gradual linear rate.
Five months later, I was in Miles’ office discussing the latest information packet from the Mars orbital satellites. We repositioned them to get good images of the opposite side of the object, and what we saw was both fascinating and terrifying.
The object was covered in strange symbols and markings, and as we zoomed in, we realized that they were not random. There was a pattern to them, and it was clear that they were not of human origin. There were also tubes and what appeared to be doors, hatches, windows, and hangers in various places.
Miles looked at me with a quizzical expression and asked, “What do you think, Isaac? How large do you think those doors are?”
I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “I’m not really sure, Miles. I don’t have a point of reference to make an accurate guess. Everything would be pure speculation and useless.” I said, trying to evade the question.
Miles pushed me further, insisting that I give it a guess. I took a deep breath and said, “Well, if I had to guess, gun to the head, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were at least a mile high and 10 miles wide for the large ones. But the smaller ones were squished into little pixels, so they’re probably smaller than that.”
Miles raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s roughly what I was guessing as well. That’s huge,” he said, his voice trailing off as he tried to process the scale of the object we were dealing with.
I nodded in agreement. “It’s almost incomprehensible,” I said, feeling a sense of unease creeping over me as we discussed the object’s sheer size and complexity.
Obviously trying to change the subject, He asked, “Issac, do you have the data on positioning for the object. We’ve been tracking its deceleration for the past 6 months.”
“Sure thing, Miles,” I said, looking up the data on my tablet, “I have the latest data on the object’s speed and trajectory.”
Miles leaned forward, his eyebrows raised with interest. “Great, let’s see it.”
I pulled up the graph I had been working on that morning, indicating the steady deceleration the object had been experiencing. I handed the tablet to Miles, watching as he studied the information. His face looked like he was checking my math as he absorbed the information.
“What about future projections?” Miles asked, looking up from the tablet, and handing it back.
I quickly changed files and handed the tablet back to him, showing him the potential trajectory range of the object. “If it continues on this path, it will be in planetary orbital speeds to match Earth and within 10 lunar orbits of Earth,” I explained, gesturing to the graph with my hand.
Miles furrowed his brow, processing the information. “That’s closer than I was hoping for,” he said, looking back at the tablet. “That will give us a very near-earth orbit opportunity for observation and samples. Maybe even drop a rover on it.”
I nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of unease growing inside me. “Yes, it’s a bit too close for comfort for me,” I countered.
Miles looked up at me pensively and asked, “What’s the highest probability path?”
I thought for a moment, took the tablet from him, and highlighted the data and trajectory predictions, “Based on our data, there’s roughly a 10% chance that the object will be just beyond the moon when it’s in the same place.”
Miles sighed, sinking in his chair, defeated and deflated, “That might cause some problems for sample gathering, and we could lose out on many imaging possibilities.”
Sitting up straight, he took out a pad of paper. He started scribbling down some project ideas, occasionally glancing at me for my opinion. “What do you think the chances are that the object will get caught in our orbit?” Miles asked, looking up from his notepad.
I hesitated momentarily, weighing my words carefully, “It’s not impossible. I’d say it’s a decent chance, but we have to be very careful with any attempts to capture it. If we get it wrong, it could crash into Earth and cause a mass extinction worse than the one that killed the dinosaurs.”
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The following is an expert from the Blog The Illuminati Insider
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Greetings, fellow truth-seekers. It is I, the Illuminati Insider, here to share with you some exclusive information that will blow your minds and shake the very foundation of your beliefs.
My fellow conspirators, listen closely to the words I am about to say. I have uncovered some information that will make your hairs stand on end and your blood run cold. The craft we’ve been tracking for the past 6 months is not what we thought it was. It’s not some puny little thing that will fizzle out before it gets close to our planet. Oh no, my friends. This craft is as big as the continental United States, and it has cannons the size of cities.
I can hear you gasping in disbelief, but I assure you, this is not a drill. The object we have been tracking is not of this world. It’s a behemoth, a juggernaut, a beast that could obliterate our planet in a matter of minutes. This is not going to be a peaceful meeting, mark my words. We are in the midst of the war of the worlds.
We must prepare ourselves for the fight of our lives, my dear comrades. We must gather our resources, our weapons, our courage, and our faith, for we are about to face the ultimate challenge. This is not a time for hesitation, for second-guessing, for doubting. We must act, and we must act fast.
I know some of you might think that this is just another conspiracy theory, that I am just some lunatic spouting off nonsense. But I assure you, I have seen the evidence with my own eyes. I have talked to insiders, whistleblowers, and other brave souls who have risked everything to bring us this information.
We are not alone in this fight, my friends. We have each other, and we have the power of knowledge. We know what’s coming, and we can prepare ourselves accordingly. We can join forces, share our resources, and strategize our attack. We can fight this beast with all our might, and emerge victorious.
So, my fellow Illuminati insiders, let us not waste another moment. Let us band together and prepare for the war of the worlds. Let us show this alien force that we will not be taken down without a fight. Let us be brave, let us be fierce, let us be victorious.
So, my friends, stay vigilant, stay alert, and stay strong. We are in this together, and together we will prevail. Let’s show the world what we are made of.
Yours truly,
The Illuminati Insider
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The following is an excerpt from the blog GalacticGuru.net
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Welcome, fellow seekers of truth and knowledge. This is the Galactic Guru, and I am here to share with you some important information that could save your life and the lives of your loved ones.
As we have been tracking the strange craft that has been approaching our planet, it has become clear that this is no ordinary visitation. This is an invasion, my friends, and we must be prepared for the worst.
We have reason to believe that the aliens who are approaching our planet are not friendly. They are not here to make peace, to share knowledge or technology, or to be our friends. They are here to conquer us, to destroy us, to take over our planet, and to enslave our people.
We must not take this threat lightly, my fellow galactic warriors. We must be ready to defend ourselves, our families, and our way of life. We must stockpile weapons, ammunition, food, and seeds, and antibiotics to prepare for the coming invasion.
I urge you all to take action now, before it’s too late. Gather your resources, arm yourselves, and prepare for the worst-case scenario. We must be ready to fight for our survival, for our freedom, and for our future.
We must also remember that we are not alone in this fight. There are other like-minded individuals out there who are also preparing for the coming invasion. We must join forces, share our resources, and strategize our attack. Together, we can fight this alien force with all our might and emerge victorious.
We must also remember that knowledge is power. We must stay informed, stay vigilant, and stay aware of any new developments in this alien invasion. We must be ready to adapt to any situation, and we must be prepared to make sacrifices for the greater good.
So, my fellow warriors, let us not waste another moment. Let us prepare ourselves for the coming invasion, and let us fight for our survival. We can do this, my friends. We are strong, we are brave, and we are united. Together, we will defeat the alien invaders and protect our planet from harm.
Stay strong, stay vigilant, and stay prepared. The Galactic Guru is with you, always. And to get 20% off your next order please use our promo code. We will even give you free shipping if you do.
The following was left as a comment and promptly removed from the blog post above.
The GalacticGuru.net has always been a source of knowledge and information for those who seek to uncover the truth about the mysteries of the universe. However, I cannot help but feel angry at the recent post about the impending alien invasion and the need to stockpile weapons, ammo, food, seeds, and antibiotics.
While the post may seem like a call to action for those who want to protect themselves and their families, it is also a blatant attempt to profit from people’s fears and anxieties. It is an exploitation of an emergency situation to make money off the backs of those who are genuinely concerned about the future of our planet.
Moreover, the post fails to address the elephant in the room. The elites, the ones who are truly in power, are not concerned about the impending invasion. They have already made arrangements to join their alien overlords and sell us all out.
While the common people are being urged to stockpile weapons and food, the elites are secretly building their spaceships and packing their bags to leave the planet. They have no intention of fighting for our survival or protecting our way of life. They are only concerned about their own interests.
It is time for us to wake up and realize that we are being manipulated by those in power. We must not fall prey to fear-mongering and conspiracy theories that only serve to divide us and distract us from the real issues at hand.
Instead, we must come together, unite as a people, and demand that our leaders take responsibility for their actions. We must demand transparency, accountability, and a plan of action that truly puts the interests of the people first.
The GalacticGuru.net should be ashamed of itself for using an emergency situation to make money. It is time for us to hold them accountable and demand that they use their platform to promote truth, not fear, and to stand up for the common people, not the elites.
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Previous Chapter Table of Contents

I know quitting your job as a cook usually simply comes with two weeks notice or a ragequit walkout, but for eleven months I worked at a new franchise that had such potential which was being squandered by the incompetence of upper management. I present the nearly 6000 word thesis I turned in on my last day. Locations and names have been changed to cartoon references. Brackets represent ambiguous information in place of specific details.
Krusty Krab Careers Jobs
Opening in [Month/Year], Krusty Krab (KK) Bikini Bottom is on its 4th kitchen manager in less than a year. Krusty Krab O-Town has recently let go its inaugural kitchen manager and sous chef. Almost no member of the Bikini Bottom opening management team remains employed by KK. There is a pattern developing where one must question both the choice of employee and the directive given to new franchises. These lingering issues I brought concerns about in the first weeks of opening but was disregarded at every turn despite my experience with festival traffic. As a result I decided this was not a place I wanted to advance, but with a good-enough paycheck I’d be a lowly grunt in the kitchen four days a week, at five days a week I would have quit or been fired over a public outburst long ago. If Krusty Krab alters course slightly while being true to the brand this could be a successful chain.
My unique employment history in brick and mortar restaurants, food trucks, pop up culinary concepts, trade shows/conventions, and the film industry make me an ideal candidate to be on the opening team for new KK locations. My outgoing nature and foresight are valuable assets. For example, on training week before opening when I was standing around idly without a task I took it upon myself to organize the disarray that was dry storage. Overhearing Krabs tell another manager where he wanted the cleaning products placed, I had a jumping off point and the organization I created nine months ago is still largely in place. Since returning from my vacation in early February I have made it my mission to keep the storage area organized because it was again starting to resemble a hoarder’s house rather than a commercial kitchen. This is now part of my weekly routines because every time I turn my back there is more product being placed haphazardly just anywhere with little regard. I also recently reorganized the walk-in cooler because of problematic stocking with items being placed on the same shelf or below raw proteins. I also simply put all the like products together such as cheeses or fruits that were scattered amongst several shelves. With recent overordering I cannot keep up with the organization of the walk in cooler. The pattern recognition of food types and even simple shapes appears to be lost on the Bikini Bottom crew. My daily reorganization of containers is proof of this. Most days I’ll take a few minutes to put all cylinders together, all cambros together in descending volume, all deep and shallow pans next to each other rather than intermixed. My decision to be a kitchen manager at age 19 from 2005 thru 2008 and rarely enter restaurant management since is very calculated.
With my prior knowledge of professional kitchens I was becoming Bikini Bottom’s resident nag to coworkers as I made note of health department violations on a daily basis. I stopped after being largely ignored for two weeks. My regular health department nags include; a battle with jackets and hats being placed only in the designated area (a designated area that did not exist until I created a place for personal items a in January by neatly organizing the dry storage area again), waiting until prepped items are cooled before a cover is placed on top, placement of raw seafood, open containers (very often sugar, flour, and pancake mix bags ripped open and left), and dirty dishes/containers placed back in rotation. The dirty dishes and containers in rotation with the clean ones are at an atrociously high number. I have given up on making the 4th fryer seafood allergy safe too. With the low volume of seafood allergy safe items Bikini Bottom should purchase smaller baskets to visually discourage cross contamination with the other fryers and baskets. My skills to organize the kitchen do not end with simply where to store products to meet minimal health department standards.
Half of the space in the Bikini Bottom kitchen is completely wasted on an ill-advised walkway to the dishpit. An intelligent design would place a second doorway directly to the dishpit connected to the bar or where the bathrooms reside. Numerous times during the opening week of KK Bikini Bottom I said, yelled, sang, and muttered that we have too many food items for the amount of space we have. Icus stated that there was more space than Bluffington. Is Bluffington intelligently designed? Because Bikini Bottom most certainly isn’t. So Bikini Bottom actually has less space even if there is more square footage. See the attached diagram for an intelligent design that could potentially house a menu of this size. Bikini Bottom forces a line design on this kitchen when an open concept is needed for this menu. It’s as if this floorplan was created by a person who had only ever seen one commercial kitchen previously and couldn’t think 4th dimensionally to understand the needs of the workers to smoothly serve customers.
There is not enough counter space for pizzas without getting off the line, the microwave is placed completely out of the way, the freezer’s curved design is a waste of potential counter space and a falling hazard for containers stored on top of it, the toaster is an overcomplicated and overexpensive piece of machinery that serves exactly one purpose when a flat top could be used to toast bread and other purposes like a quesadilla special, sautee was designed without an overhang for spices, the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter for seafood allergies, there are no Frialator fryers which I have worked with at every single kitchen job previously instead we got the cheap Vulcan model (is that logical), the cheap low boy in pantry that doesn’t drain excess water anywhere it’s just supposed to evaporate somehow but doesn’t, the grill and fryer should be placed next to each other (with a higher volume of crossover than other stations), the floors are flat instead on having a mild decline towards the drains (just look at the standing water residing behind the oven right now), in the dishpit the spraying area and the filled sinks are backwards of a logical dipshit, the ramp to the back door is on the wrong side, there is no refrigerated place downstairs to stage extra food for busy shifts (the beer cooler is once again used for such food items because of this massive oversight), the prep station is an afterthought and miniscule, the dishes on the line are difficult to grab for anyone under 5’11” and inaccessible for anyone under 5’6” (instead of putting them underneath tables that also give that desperately needed counterspace I spoke of), there is not enough space to store to-go containers or boats behind the line, expo is lacking a low boy for the numerous items that are supposed to be cold but are instead kept at room temperature all day long, no one in management thought about buying shelves until right before Bikini Bottom opened as a result the clean full sheets sat on the floor for days, we had only the exact amount of 1⁄6 pans for an absurd amount of time making it impossible to rotate and clean them when necessary (which is daily), we still struggle with 1/9 pan supply. And just when I thought I documented all the poor design choices possible I stumbled upon a person whose office holiday party was booked at KK Bikini Bottom. The deck space works just fine as a deck. It does not double well as a gathering space. The space is too long and narrow for parties, it promotes little splitoff groups rather than a coming together of a larger gathering. It may be advantageous to contact a social psychologist for help designing a private party space that promotes intermingling rather than enforcing small pockets to form. The reorganization of the physical kitchen isn’t all that screams for an overhaul.
There are six positions on the line at the Krusty Krab; expo, oven, grill, sautee, fryer, and pantry. But the pantry and fryer positions are forced together like a bad remix. Everyone who mainly works pantry deserves a $6 raise immediately because it is a station and a half. Both Icus and Krumm, while kitchen manager, kind of acknowledged the pantry is too big for one station without outright mentioning the lopsided distribution of work. I imagine in the only location where this works, Bluffington, a second person joins the pantry at noon because of the unreasonable amount of items one person is tasked with. Bikini Bottom only has one person in this position at all times, maybe modify it for one person? The excess of items on the pantry position largely resembles a position I would call “set-up” or “build” at a previous job that made sensible choices. This build position should have tostadas, tacos, butcher’s blocks, toast, salads, lettuce wrap set ups, and preparing plating for whichever station is most bogged down. I have absolutely lost my mind yelling about salads at least once a month, ranting that they do not belong on the fryer position because of how illogical it is that five salads are included on the mountain of other items the pantry has. I have always considered working in a kitchen a kind of dance, and the pantry station demands an unnecessarily convoluted dance to keep up with the demand. Without the salads, tostadas, and tacos the station is already the busiest. Do we really need to combine ballet and swing by including these extra awkward dance steps in this single station? For a kitchen designed this poorly I suppose it is. Again, see attached document for an intelligently designed kitchen that might be able to accommodate this menu. Unless Bikini Bottom is going to close for a month to fix the baffling floor plan design the menu is shouting to be reduced to 30-36 items.
The menu is too big. Krusty Krab is the jack of all foods, master of none. In general I believe individual locations should be allowed 18% omissions, and 18% unique items to this wildly unwieldy menu sitting around 50 food items including sides. The insistence on keeping menu items that don’t sell at Bikini Bottom because of Bluffington is mind boggling. Chicken tenders do not sell at Bikini Bottom. fried sushi does not sell at Bikini Bottom, not enough to justify their place on the line. I don’t care how well these items work in Bluffinton. They. Do. Not. Work. At. Bikini. Bottom. If the KK location in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean sells an incredible amount of live krill does that mean Bikini Bottom and O-Town must sell live krill too? Take the fried sushi off the menu. I had a complete meltdown about this during a Dimmadome service and my valid point was met with indifference. Replace the kid’s tenders with a kid’s fish sticks. We already have the tilapia fish sticks on the line for tacos. Or make the kid’s fish sticks cod. We cut cod to order for fish tacos in spite of health code violations because it is too rare of an order to make beforehand. Saffron in mashed potatoes? If you must. Why are green tomatoes only on the menu during lunch? Bikini Bottom throws away a sizable amount of spoiled green tomatoes each week. Have green tomatoes on the menu all day long or don’t have them at all. The smoked salmon could go on salads or a special taco to justify its place on the line. The corn pico’s place on the line is unjustified. It only goes on one item, tostadas, which are not particularly popular. If we had a taco salad we could throw the corn pico on there. We also have unreasonable waste from unusable taco shells, smash up those imperfect taco shells and throw them on said taco salad. But before we add salads, let's get rid of the pear and kale salads. The pears' position on the line are unjustified, if we threw them on a taco variation maybe their place on the Bikini Bottom line could be argued but for now they only go on a salad that isn’t particularly popular. The kale salad is an issue of space for a 4th green for salads is too much. The krusty salad is my most hated house salad of all time. And it comes down to the toast with goat cheese. This ancillary step of spreading goat cheese on a cracker is an unnecessary step for an overly complicated dance and should be part of the expo dance if expo wasn’t a shoddily designed afterthought lacking a low boy.
There are a plethora of squeeze bottles on the pantry station that have no place on the overloaded station. They belong to an expo station with a low boy to keep them cold. Pantry has an overwhelming ten squeeze bottles: chipotle crema, sweet chili vinaigrette, buffalo, korean bbq, ranch, caesar, wine vinaigrette, lemon vinaigrette, honey mustard, and lemon aioli. Only the first four are justified on an intelligently designed fryer section, the second four belong on the build station, the last two have no place anywhere but expo. With this extra space sautee could keep their bottles and two purees cold in the fryer's lowboy instead of leaving them at room temperature all day inviting a pathogen party. This theorized intelligently designed expo would have room to keep these four squeeze bottles and a double of every sauce chilled to pour them into ramekins, a move that is highly common in the expo dance. The fact that expo doesn’t have a double of all squeeze bottles is foolish. Expo has to bother an overloaded station to pour these side sauces instead.
How many gallons of basil aioli has Bikini Bottom thrown away in 11 months? Four aiolis in general is way too many and most go on a single item; basil aioli on the incredibly unpopular veggie burger, lemon aioli for calamari, sweet chili aioli for the BLT that is only served half of the day, and garlic aioli actually goes on two items…I believe. What a colossal waste of precious little space, lose two aiolis and then you can sing the logical song with me. Perhaps we can put garlic aioli and sweet chili vinaigrette on the BLT separately and accomplish the exact same thing the sweet chili aioli does. The wings too have unneeded complications. Having worked at a sports bar specializing in wings for the better part of a decade I find KK’s plating of wings to be overly pretentious. The carrots, celery, and blue cheese have lost function. Heffer Wolf always said no one eats the carrot/celery julienne with blue cheese. It’s a complete waste of all the ingredients because you’ve gone too far with the presentation. Wings aren’t fancy. Wings are supposed to have a small pool of sauce and be sloppy. It’s like a sloppy joe that’s not sloppy, an unsloppy joe is a failure to sloppy joes just as the KK presentation of wings is a disparagement to the dish. Ever since training week back in 2022 I have used a scale to give Bikini Bottom a passing or failing grade.
Chokey Chicken to Chum Bucket is the scale I use to judge efficiency and sanity at Bikini Bottom. Both establishments are upscale casual dining experiences in Capitol City in the same vein as KK. Chokey had high employee retention and relatively smooth openings for new locations. Chum Bucket’s employee turnover was high and every location opening was chaotic. Which one sounds closer to KK? Chokey Chicken was filled with chefs I respect including Chef Ren Hoek who remains a close friend to this day. Ren lost his lifelong passion for kitchen work after working management at Chum Bucket. He’s actually seeking work in Bikini Bottom. Call him up at [phone number], but KK will give him Nam’ flashbacks of why he chose driving for a living rather than cooking for five years. The pair of us together helming Bikini Bottom with the ability to omit and create 18% of the overloaded menu can bring success to this franchise. We have worked well numerous times in the past on various concepts in the past including creating The Attack of the Pickled Tomatoes Burger for [Promotional live performance of a TV show] at the Capitol City Theater. We served 100 people in 60 at the [sitcom filming] lunch. That’s physically impossible but somehow we did it quite a few times.
A fun anecdote about Ren Hoek’s KK experience from the soft launch; on training week numerous times I brought concerns about being seafood allergy safe that were dismissed. As mentioned earlier the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter, one each of which seafood never touches. Before the soft launch Chef Stimpy from Bluffington insisted all customers just kind of know everything is prone to be seafood contaminated. Well, chef Ren was a customer that night and this absolutely was not communicated to customers. He claimed to have a slight seafood allergy and was not informed of what the crab soup was. In reality he does not have a seafood allergy. I didn’t discuss the seafood issue with Ren, separately we noticed egregious violations of food safety standards and we each responded in our own way. The soft launch service was so awful that night Chef Ren walked out of a free meal to pay for some ramen, never to return to Bikini Bottom. I attribute this oversight, and many of Bikini Bottom’s (and probably O-Town’s) problems to hubris over the Bluffington location.
Chef Chokey would also be hesitant to join the KK team. It will cost a finder’s fee just for me to reveal Chef Chokey’s name. Chef Chokey was a lead in the rapid expansion of Chokey Chicken restaurants. He opened numerous restaurants and was big on the philosophy that each restaurant must have its own personality in order to fit the unique local culture and the variety of working spaces. This is in direct conflict with the KK way that everything must be exactly like the Bluffington location no matter what. There was only one Chokey Chicken location that had the full menu, Chokey Springfield. Chokey Springfield had a large space which was intelligently designed to accommodate such a large menu. The KK menu is all over the place, closing in on 50 menu items which comes up as a failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale. This is not the only area KK comes up as a major failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale.
Has anyone in this company ever worked festival traffic before? Does anyone have the experience of working next to a major venue with 8000 seats before this one? The way Bikini Bottom handles Dimmadome services it certainly appears that the decision-makers fall on the wrong side of the Dunning-Kruger effect. Having all 50 items available during such massive traffic is completely asinine. An unwillingness to serve a partial menu is hindering the Bikini Bottom kitchen staff. I have worked festival traffic before, and Dimmadome events bring in festival traffic. I’ve worked inside a festival whose line never ended but every customer got their order in 5 minutes or less because the line kept flowing with only four items on the menu as that’s what was warranted at the B-Sharps Music Festival. I refuse to be set up for failure the way Bikini Bottom sets up Dimmadome services for failure. The entire week of concerts in [summer] 2022 I was set up for failure every day (it was after this I modified my availability to keep my sanity and my paycheck). When I brought my concerns about running efficiently during Dimmadome services I was labeled a B-worker for the first time in my employment history by Icus and Krabs. It is that moment which I was either going to holler at them both for being 2-dimensional thinkers who were obviously unqualified for the positions they accepted in this company, or just put my head down. If Bikini Bottom has a successful concert day service, hail your team because they snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. They swam with concrete shoes. I often wonder how many customers had bad experiences and never returned after concert days. A Dimmadome service should have no more than 25 items and have one or two specials to divert traffic towards an area the kitchen can keep moving. An Open Cup Open Plate (OCOP) special for foot traffic is absolutely needed. When I suggested OCOP special, Heffer was intrigued by this idea and immediately named burgers as the special to keep foot traffic flowing. Smithers wouldn’t hear this idea, babbling on about what’s advertised instead of hearing out a sound idea. This prattle despite radio commercials having inaccurate hours and social media promoting Bikini Bottom’s steak tacos to this day. I always found Smithers to be a better fit as a middle management office pencil pusher than as a hands-on restaurant manager. Overall I find KK managers are selected to be automatons not to question their orders rather than critical thinkers who could take the restaurant to the next level. During brunch service is another period of time that must be modified to lessen the heft of items. Having a full menu that barely works plus brunch is so deep into Chum Bucket territory, in my opinion we now have to use the Tropic Thunder scale of full retard to describe a 60-plus-item brunch. Chef Ren hired back a Chum Bucket cook who had a mental breakdown and stormed out during brunch (plus full menu) service because Ren knew the employee was justified and upper management was completely unreasonable in their brunch requests. It’s not just questionable decisions that hinder KK staff but improper equipment as well.
This is the first restaurant I have worked at which uses a touch screen on the line rather than tickets. From day one I found this to be technology for technology’s sake inferior to tickets. Chef Ren forced a new Chum Bucket location to rip out touch screens from the line and bring in ticket printers because of the higher efficiency. The touch screen is a great idea for expo, not the entire line. My biggest gripe is that each station does not get all the information. Early on I was regularly yelled at for not staggering my items, well I can’t see the rest of the order; a problem I have never had with a ticket system. Touchscreen software is also much more prone to errors and glitches. When I reported an error during a heavy service Icus and Krabs blamed my skills on the line without looking into the malfunctioning screen further. It was glitchy for weeks before the two finally investigated and corrected the issue I brought to their attention long before. Those two gave me an immense amount of ammunition to dislike them in the opening weeks until I stopped caring. The issue I had with being unable to scroll beyond the bottom of a completely filled screen has returned and is still there as of [my last day]. There are also important details that get buried. A frequent meltdown I have is that sauce on side requests and other important modifications are not capitalized or in red to catch the eye as they have been at jobs with tickets. These details get lost on Bikini Bottom’s touchscreens. A sauce on side salad made by me will be wrong 50% of the time because of the instructions being camouflaged in a word salad. This goes for coleslaw on the side and drizzle on the side too. Drizzle in general I dislike because of the pretentiousness, but whatever, drizzle it on top rather than putting it in a ramekin if you must. There are numerous places where Bikini Bottom overcomplicates matters for reasons I cannot ascertain.
Why is there such a large variety of plates? Why do we have a medium circular plate for salads and a large bowl for salads with protein? This just confuses the simplest of matters. I was told this is done because of the high price hike with protein, a larger presentation was desired. But that price hike is the price of protein in 2023. Bikini Bottom should put all salads in the large bowls and use all the circular salad plates in a skeet shooting promotion. I understand why we have both a circular platter plate and a pizza plate but in my restaurant the circular platter plates must go...or maybe the large platter plate instead. Is the large platter used for anything besides fish and chips? That extra space on fish and chips plates are only used for side sauces which can easily be delivered to customers on small circular plates. What is the medium oval plate doing that the medium rectangular plate isn’t? And vice versa. Why do they both exist when they are approximately the same size? Let me write an internet commercial where we break a lot of plates so we can get some logical use out of the superfluous plates. I don’t care which one is destroyed, the ovals or the rectangles but one of them is an unnecessary redundancy in excess done again. Speaking of commercials, the unimaginative radio advertisements for Bikini Bottom are doing little to lure new customers to the restaurant.
The three radio spots I have heard on KBBL all sound like they were produced by a marketing 101 student who wasn’t a natural in the field. The voiceover actor was so uncharismatic I was certain someone from the office was chosen at random to read the copy. Then I heard that same voiceover actor selling pool supplies on another radio station so I concluded that Bikini Bottom must have hired the cheapest guy in town to produce the most basic of commercials. Perhaps there is someone else you could hire more qualified to voiceover these commercials, an actor with experience on an Emmy award winning cable program whose unique place in the film industry was written about on [website] would be a much wiser choice to be the voice of the KK? (See external link). In the ad there was no catchphrase, no jingle, no music whatsoever. This simple approach to commercials lacks the pizazz to catch the attention of radio listeners. The first two commercials I heard would get a C in marketing 101 as they were nearly the exact same and accomplished the bare minimum to sell wares, the third one would maybe get a B- because there was some sort of attempted gimmick with the voiceover whispering to represent thinking inside his head about what he was going to eat later at KK. Not only does this commercial give no reason for the man to think inside his head, the outside world still and unpopulated. To see what a creative person would do with this concept see the attached script. There is an attempted slogan that could become part of an ad campaign. Commercials aren’t the only lost opportunities in promotions.
There are numerous promotional celebrity tie-ins at Bikini Bottom’s fingertips with Dimmadome performers. The restaurant could have a Phish sandwich as a OCOP special on [Phish performance dates], or a pretentious Jelly Roll on [Jelly Roll performance date]. Has anyone reached out to the Dimmadome theater or talent management for approved special menu items to be promoted inside the dome? Perhaps a special 20% discount to ticket holders? Is Bikini Bottom capable of getting permits to extend Open Container hours beyond [cutoff time] for an afterparty or block party throughout a Dimmadome concert? I see additional marketing opportunities left on the table for all new locations.
I believe new KK locations are missing out on a marketing campaign by opening with the entire cumbersome 50 item menu. This is a staggering amount of menu items which is too much to ask new staffers to perfect all at once. After a few months expanding the menu by approximately ten items is catching to customers who haven’t returned after a single visit or infrequently stop into KK. There are ten new food items that might appeal to them. Just like it appears KK doesn’t know what it’s looking for in a good commercial spot, this company doesn’t appear to recognize a talented from an untalented worker until it’s too late.
It is my understanding that KK had a headhunter to find Icus, the first Bikini Bottom kitchen manager. If it were up to me I’d hire someone to break the legs of that headhunter for bringing in a subpar kitchen lead. We are still attempting to recover from the lousy choices she made in the floor plan. If anybody responsible for Bikini Bottom’s floor plan is still giving input, stop them immediately. Once the doors were open to the public Icus had his head in the clouds to a point where I questioned if he saw the writing on the walls of an imminent demotion and stopped trying as a result. I had a full deck of 3x5 cards in an archaic powerpoint presentation bringing numerous concerns to light that he kept putting off listening to until he was fired. Those same cards were broken out for this essay. The second kitchen manager, Krumm, is a good lesson in honesty. According to Heffer, Krumm was given a bill of goods about how smoothly KK Bikini Bottom was running. Since Krumm stepped into a latrine pit which he was led to believe was a heated pool, he left in short time. Krumm also had plans to modify the menu but when his bosses told him to be a rodeo clown rather than a cowboy Krumm didn’t take too kindly to that. Meanwhile Heffer was the savior of the Bikini Bottom kitchen. I didn’t agree with every single decision he made, but I did with a majority of them. Heffer’s overhaul was such a blessing so I didn’t have to fiddle with the organization of 60% of the equipment anymore, only about 20% now. Too bad Heffer’s crippling depression came back after bashing his head into the wall out of frustration with the shackles KK restrained him with.
The current management team is enthusiastic but inexperienced. I see an accumulation of small infractions that might bring down Bikini Bottom’s health department rating significantly. I see the entire management team being inattentive or unaware about organizational issues. Whatever bureaucratic nonsense corporate tasks everyone with from the original sous chef Skeeter to Patty Mayonnaise that makes them walk away from the line between 11am and 1pm especially is infuriating. I have never been left alone on a multi-person line during peak hours so regularly, and I won’t tolerate it anymore. As much as I believe in his drive, I imagine our current kitchen manager SpongeBob will be let go after a disastrous service during the Dimmadome concert season that someone has to take the fall for. Chef Ren and I could help bring experience in management and dealing with festival traffic...if corporate does not force us to follow a failing strategy.
After working nearly a year at KK you may ask why I’m not proficient on more than one station. Excellent question. First, when I move over to another station the squeeze bottles are never labeled (until Stu Pickles was hired, now they’re sometimes labeled), so I always looked at the glut of unlabeled sauces and I’d go back to my station because the basic information is missing (also a health department violation for having numerous unlabeled, unchilled bottles). In his first week the new general manager Stu Pickles pulled out 90% of the containers under the grill station because they were lacking labels despite an expected health department visit. The second reason for my menu ignorance is the mountain of prep for my own and upcoming shifts I have piled up on my station throughout service. My attention to detail appears to be next level with my ability to anticipate stocking all items for all shifts including the weeknd. The third reason I wouldn’t learn multiple stations is a defense against the afternoon conference calls. In [month] the Bikini Bottom line was unprepared for a busy post lunch because one cook was cut and our expo person was busy with a conference call. The two of us remaining on the line had a miserable slog through an unexpectedly busy afternoon. When I brought this up to Krabs he disregarded me, being a good bean counter he quoted the cost percentage. What he didn’t take into account was the missing expo person who could have jumped on the line and expo to help the understaffed two man team. That person was stuck on a conference call. Just recently I saw the company actively lose money because of this poorly thought-out meeting during business hours. A customer wanted to order a dessert that was 86ed but had been restocked by our prep cook an hour before. The server was unable to sell them their dessert because the only person in the building who could help un-86 an item was on a conference call. This conference call calamity is another bone-headed choice that speaks to a larger decision-making problem within the corporate structure. Finish the conference calls by 10:45 am eastern.
In conclusion, I quit my position as a lowly grunt for this company because of its unwarranted perplexing dance steps and below average management. I don’t care how much varnish and lacquer is supplied, I refuse to polish this Bikini Bottom turd as a manager or full-time employee under the current circumstances. You would have to take a pickaxe to the floor, possibly relocate the bathrooms to add a door to the dishpit, get rid of the cheap low boy that doesn’t properly drain excess water, and Mr Gorbachov knock down that wall in the middle of the kitchen to give the proper amount of space to work. Or simply reduce the menu to 36 items (including sides) because that’s the amount of space this dreadful design can comfortably output. Would Gordon Ramsay compliment KK for all the unnecessary convoluted complications abound, or would Chef Ramsay yell about keeping it simple and demand KK chuck it in the flip? Thanks to the numerous pop up restaurants I have been a part of and the hectic world of trade shows/conventions, I may have more experience than anyone else employed by KK in smoothly opening a new location. I would enjoy being part of the opening team to ensure new locations have an efficiency Bikini Bottom lacks, and to keep upper management away from their worst instincts. Work with me and Chef Ren and we will help you become a well oiled machine like Chokey Chicken instead of the Chum Bucket cesspit Bikini Bottom currently embodies.

Previous.
Admiral Shane stood in the room usually used for training, but had been cleared out so he could make the conference over holophone, and a larger room helped with the scale when they were addressing the entire Federation Council.
It had taken only about 2 ½ days to get to the Golden Egg’s position, as with their progress in the uplifting process - and the fact that they had access to FTL technology - they had been allowed to send a ship out into the Federation, albeit supervised. As such, they decided on sending a military ship, seeing as there was a much smaller chance of an interstellar incident happening with disciplined Marines.
The chamber was a semicircle, with the Chairperson’s seat at ground level, in the center of the floor, with each next row elevated slightly, so that the gathered Representatives were situated in a step-pattern, ascending to the top row of the chamber. He noticed that the ‘insectoid’ species all were situated to his right of the chamber, if he was looking out at them.
Beside him stood Admiral Ree’Scote, being his ‘escort’ into the Federation; Kyle, as the boots-on-ground witness; Officer Kit’Ahnj, being the Federation’s liaison officer; and Captain Vohr’Doe, as the commander of the vessel that found the planet. But of course, it was him that was currently the center of attention.
He had reviewed the team's video logs, and he agreed that whatever was on that planet was likely hostile; the sounds that came from that darkness - not to mention the fear he felt when looking into it - were so… wrong, he didn't feel any other classification would be right. And - after the testimony of Officer Kit’Ahnj, backing up Kyle’s report, and the video - the Council felt the same way; however, they were less inclined to destroy the planet. He was currently being addressed by the Council Chairwoman, a bipedal crocodile, whose title was Chairwoman Hahss’Chom, (which - when she pronounced it - was little more than a hiss, followed by her snapping her jaws shut.)
“We have ways to prevent… whatever this is - from ever being able to exit their system, even if they were to develop FTL technology.”
“With all due respect, ma’am,” he said, keeping his focus on her, and not the - obviously - judging races that surrounded him, all of whom represented different animals from Earth, each one the Speaker for their respective races, “We’ve dealt with a mindless force of nature that was only intent on killing…
“Europa was one of Jupiter’s moons, and was roughly 90% the size of Luna. When we began spreading out from Earth, the question of drinkable water became a problem. And while it's - relatively - easy to make it from its base components, Europa was almost entirely water, though not all of it was liquid.
“Once we had developed the technology to land there, we set out drilling to the ocean, which was located beneath a shell of ice that was estimated to be between 10-15 miles deep… We made it four miles before we lost all resistance. The drills were shut down, and new readings were taken; but by the time they realized what was happening, it was too late.
“At first, the teams thought that it was a geyser, which are - were - a fairly common thing, though there had been no signs that one was building up there. Well, they managed to get far enough away before… The ice where they had been working melted, but there was no geyser. What came out of the hole resembled, well, it most resembled a machine AI that humanity dreamed up as a monster in a movie. The one I reference here was basically a metal ball with countless metal tentacles from its ‘back’, and what came out of that hole looked remarkably similar.
“And it wasn't alone. About a dozen of those [‘squids’] came out, and made straight for our people. It was… a massacre; our weapons had no effect on them whatsoever. And after they were done killing everyone, they began dismantling and consuming the ships and equipment. And afterwards, they turned their gazes upwards, launching themselves from the surface of the moon with the force of their limbs, alone.
“Judging from the fragments of their bodies we were able to recover after encounters with them in space, we determined that they were iron of the Fe oxidized variety, so the metal of their bodies didn't interact with the water. They were also incredibly light, especially for how dense they were; it took several missiles to destroy each, and we had no other choice, as they were heading directly at the ships in orbit.
“We retreated to a tactical distance, and while we tried so many different ways to communicate, we found nothing. We even captured one alive, and still, there was no way to communicate. Every attempt was met with the utmost hostility. And throughout this process, they continuously sent out others from beneath the ice, most of them sent towards our ships, yet others were sent out towards the asteroids that share Jupiter’s orbit around the sun. We had no idea what they were doing with the asteroids, whether they were mining them for food, or using them as places to reproduce - or both - so we eventually decided to bombard them with munitions until they crashed into the planet. But this was after we had exhausted every possible avenue of communication.
“We eventually came to a decision - as a people - to destroy the moon, but we had to be smart about it. The Europans had already proven they didn't need to breathe, as they could survive the cold, irradiated vacuum of space without any external protection, which took blowing Europa up off the table.. So - after much deliberation - it was decided to create a ship that could use tractor beams to move the planet. For this, we converted another of Jupiter’s moons - Ganymede - into a ship, and once the construction was complete, we renamed it the Europa Contingency.
“From there, we caught Europa, and towed it to Sol, where we cast it in, to destroy the Europans, down to the last one… It's not something that we’re proud of - as a people - but it was what we needed to do, in order to survive.”
There was a resounding silence after he finished with his speech, and he allowed them the time to process what he'd just told them. He was suddenly very self-conscious, and he felt as if he hadn't explained their plight sufficiently. They were already classified as the most aggressive that their measurement system could register, what must they think of humanity after this. Finally, the Chairwoman broke the silence.
“Though it sounds as if you may have committed genocide on a sapient species… This Council can claim no better. While we have ways to contain FTL travel, this was only put forth as a possible avenue to explore after our predecessors had glassed multiple planets who had turned out to be too hostile to conduct civil interactions with. To have that threat in the same system as you, with no real barrier between your peoples, well, I don't believe any here could truly blame your people for coming to this decision… However, we can't be sure that we face the same threat. Nor can we order anyone to go into the darkness to find out.”
The suul’mahr representative, Grol’Rosh - a solid white coloration to his fur - spoke up, his voice playing out over the speakers, as he was sitting in the topmost row.
“We could send a probe into the midst of it; that could tell us what we're dealing with. And if they are entirely hostile, we could take a specimen up to the atmosphere, to see if it survives.”
He heard a strangled sound of protest, and he didn't need to look around to see the fearful look on Kyle’s face; he gently held up a hand to assuage the Ambassador, as he knew full well what his concern was.
“We believe that the contents of the darkness are… harmful to the generally accepted term of ‘sanity’. And not in the sense of ‘it would be dangerous to any non-human’; as in, to anyone. If - however - you should need a volunteer, then-”
“I will watch it,” Grol’Rosh cut him off. Admiral Shane merely looked at him, sighing lightly as he nodded once in acknowledgment to the suul'mahr. Captain Vohr'Doe stepped up at that point, calling to the hangar to release the drone, and to program it to enter the darkness just beyond the leading edge. A small communication satellite was set out after it to retain contact with the drone when the curve of the planet would render it beyond their scope of reach.
It took several minutes, during which Grol’Rosh inserted earbuds into his ears, and had his personal screen connected to the probe's camera. While he was watching the drone's progress, it was also taking its own readings, and sending them back as text. Which is how they knew when it was breaching the atmosphere, and when it encountered the darkness; Kyle had been right: it wasn't natural.
The reports coming back from the drone were confusing, to say the least; firstly because ‘the darkness’ was actually solid material, though ‘solid’ was used loosely here, as it was more like a ‘dust storm’. Except that it wasn't just dust - as there were readings of sand, and soil in the mess - because nanoscanners inside the drone determined that each grain of soil was coated in a thick, viscous material that absorbed all light that hit it.
The material was what caused the confusion, as when it was analyzed, it was determined to be… everything. There were traces of all genus of races, from canines, to felines, insects, to pachyderms; there was even all manner of aquatic animals, as well. There was no plant life detected in the sludge.
As imagined with readings like that, the drone had more difficulty descending to the surface of the planet than it normally would have, but strangely, not as much as one might expect; it was only when the craft sped up that they realized it was being pulled. The altitude of the drone continued to drop at a steady rate, until it was about 50’ from the ground, according to the readings from the expedition team, as it was heading for the exact location they had originally made camp. However, the drone was sending even more confusing information, as it was now reading the ground to be 25’ away, and moving quickly.
The drone was about 10’ from the ‘ground’ when Grol’Rosh began howling like he’d been stabbed. Looking up in his direction, everyone gasped in horror as he began clawing at his eyes, quickly rending his face, and entirely destroying the delicate orbs within. He wasn't done, however, as he then began clawing at his ears, his Gift obviously activated, as he tore straight to his skull in only a single swipe, the unnerving sound of claw scraping bone filling the room.
Two suul'mahr guards rushed towards him as soon as he'd begun clawing his eyes, and were almost to him when he reached his hands out to the sides, and brought them together - with his head still between them - with obviously tremendous force.
One of the guards - a dark gray specimen - leapt forward at the last second, tackling him by leverage of his left arm. That still left his right arm free, though it had only succeeded in a glancing blow, which still knocked him unconscious with a sickening /thud**. There was a stunned silence that followed that ordeal, until Chairwoman Hahss’Chom shakily gave an order for medics, who soon arrived, two kanfi’doe that - after stabilizing his wounds - quickly carried Grol’Rosh down the stairs, and loaded him onto a stretcher they had brought with them.
The silence reigned for a long minute after they’d wheeled him out, broken finally by the Chairwoman’s subdued voice.
“I call a vote: all in favor of allowing the humans to bring their ‘Europa's Contingency’...?” She tapped a few commands into the datapad in front of her, and there was a quiet flurry of movement as the rest of the Council cast their votes.
“It's unanimous: Admiral Shane, we hereby give the Europa’s Contingency permission to travel to this system, and then to return to Sol when the job here is done. Are we clear on this?”
“Crystal, ma’am. I can have the orders dispat-”
He was cut off as a keen'yohng appeared by his side.

Commodore Vah’Rin came out of subspace, his prey already in his sights. The eight other captains under his command confirmed lock-on status, and his communications officer informed him that they had an opening into their link, though it was protected by an unusually strong defense system.
“Well,” he replied, “We did intercept the report on humans; they have artificial intelligences. They probably have one with that cylindrical ship that has too many guns to not be military. Well, this certainly changes things: an a.i. would be by far more valuable than an entire hold of drahk'mihn. If we can capture it, and reprogram it to obey us, we could drop down far enough into subspace that we could make a trip of several months cut down to as many weeks… Patch me into their communication; I’m done hiding…”
He let a cruel smile play across his face as his entire bridge turned into the Federation Council Hall; his ship would project his image into their conversation, but not those of his crew around him. And there in front of him were the objects of his focus, as he was certain he appeared before them, wearing his black Commodore’s jacket.
“How nice of you to join us, Commodore.”
He turned to the owner of the cold voice that ‘greeted’ him.
“Ah, Council Member Toss’Vah,” he replied cheerily to her, “Good to see you again. How are things back home?”
She regarded him coldly, then almost spat,
“It was widely believed that you were still alive; I regret to have that theory confirmed.”
“What can I say?” he asked, smiling, “This ship was just too good to not take it. Give my regards to the president; this ship truly is state-of-the-art… But, I didn't break into this conversation to speak with you.” He turned to the humans, who regarded him with wary expressions, if his experience with the suun'mahs and kanfi’doe was anything to judge by.
“Greetings,” he began jovially - no reason not to be civilized, “I - as you may have gathered - am Commodore Vah’Rin, and I regret to inform you that you are under the guns of 9 ships, all of which are heavily armed. Now, this is normally the part where I tell you that if you cooperate, then we can get through this with a minimal amount of casualties - someone always has to try to be the hero, don’t they? - but I have a different proposition for you, today: give me you a.i., and we’ll leave this system - and your ships - without any hostilities. Refuse, and… Well, I think you get the idea.” He smiled a predatory smile that was more of a leer than anything.
“This is outrageous;” the current Councilwoman stated, righteous anger evident in every syllable, “We not stand for-” but he cut her off.
“We’re too far away from any Federation outposts, and the nearest suun’mahs patrol is… well, right here.” He gestured to Admiral Ree’Scote.
“So, no matter how this plays out, there’s really nothing that this council can do about the goings-on here. So - as I said earlier - I’m not speaking to you; this has nothing to do with any of you.” He turned his attention back to the humans.
“So, what is your answer? And might I remind you, while you may - or may not - be able to take on our ships at 3-1 odds, one of your ships is not only not made to fight, but is also filled with civilians; are you willing to risk all of their lives?”
“How about this,” the human who was obviously military began, “You choose six of your ships, and use those to square off against us; the other three can hang back, and guard the Golden Egg from leaving. If you win that battle, you can take the A.I. stationed there. If not, then your other ships have to leave us in peace.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name and rank.”
“Admiral Shane of the Sol Defense Force.”
“Ah,” he continued, “Well, Admiral Shane, I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. It’s all, or nothing, which means that even if you feel comfortable taking on all of our ships at once, we will still target the civilian vessel. There is no other option; sometimes you only have bad paths to choose from, and you must take the lesser of the evils.”
Admiral Shane stood taller, and defiantly responded with,
“We of the Sol Defense Force cannot - in good conscience - hand over a single soul to slav-”
But he was cut off by the other human behind him, the one he actually recognized. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a small blue cube, which he held out as he angrily stated,
“You can have mine.”
“Ah,” he replied jovially, turning to the smaller human, “Mr. Redding, I believe?”
“It’s Ambassador.” The defiant little monkey at least seemed pretty fearless in the face of life-or-death negotiations, so he figured that he deserved at least that recognition; he certainly seemed to realize the value of diplomacy over fighting.
“Ambassador, then; good to see someone here has a level head on their shoulders.”
The cube reformed into a small human, as the Admiral rounded on his civilian counterpart; they both started talking at the same time.
“Excuse me?! You have no right to auction me off like some-
“... hell do you think you’re doing?! How dare you offer up a Sollian to a slaver?! I ought to knock the sh-”
But they were both cut off as Ambassador Redding simply stated, talking louder than both of them,
“Artificial Intelligence Override Code: JKJKLOL69!”
The small android stiffened up, and remained rigid, as if it were a simple robot, while the Admiral recoiled, raising an arm slightly as if to defend himself.
“How dare you?” he said with disgust to the Ambassador, “That’s only to be used in the event of a rogue A.I., this-!”
“This,’ the Ambassador interjected angrily, “Is bigger than all of us! I know what I’m doing.” He turned to address the Commodore,
“You will take it, and you’ll leave. In peace. Give me… 12 Standard minutes - I have to collect the memory core - and we’ll meet halfway between the 'civilian’ ship, and your group, ‘cause you sure as hell aren't coming aboard either of our ships.”
“That sounds acceptable; however, once the transfer is made, you will keep your shuttle in position until we have determined that the package is authentic, at which point, we will leave. If it is a fake, then I won't hesitate to blow your little shuttle to dust, and then I’ll take everyone I can get my hands on; and with 9 ships, we have more than enough space to hold you all. And we will both come unarmed.”
“I’ll be accompanying you,” the Admiral said sternly to the Ambassador, “I need to document everything that happens so I can send it back as evidence in your hearing.”
“Yeah,” the smaller primate answered testily, “You do that…”
With a vindictive smile, Commodore Vah’Rin motioned to end the transmission.

Kahv’Hosh sat in the pilot’s seat, having been chosen to transport the humans out to the meeting spot. They were both currently silent, and the air was so thick with emotion that you could cut it with a knife. They were already in place, and were currently waiting on the pirate ‘commodore’ to reach their shuttle, with an estimated thirty seconds until they made contact. With a solid /thud/, they were connected, and Kahv’Hosh equalized the pressure in the sleeve, and soon heard a slight knock on their door. Kyle and the Admiral had already moved to the door - the large metal cube with the interface screen sitting beside it - and Kyle reached forward to open it.
The keen’yhong walked onto their shuttle, and his eyes immediately fell to Kyle’s waist.
“I thought we agreed no weapons.” The man’s voice wasn’t as hostile as he would have expected, as he stared at the big gun on Kyle’s waist, and the smaller - but still obviously deadly - pistol on the Admiral’s.
“Yeah,” Kyle replied sarcastically, “Because you don’t have some hidden weapon on you…”
The ‘commodore’ simply smiled, and turned to the box.
“This is my a.i., I take it?” he asked, still smiling.
Kyle’s mood seemed to darken further as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the cube that became Kay’Eighty at his command.
“Begin downloading into the core, and commence factory reset.”
He set the cube down on top of an open slot beside the monitor, and a loading screen immediately came up. It only took a few seconds, but it was still a tense few seconds; soon, the box chimed, and Kyle removed the cube.
“I’ll be taking that, as well,” the ‘commodore’ replied, reaching a hand into his jacket; Kyle simply scoffed.
“No, you want to make your own mithril, then you figure out how to make it, yourself. You’ve already got the core, that’s all you need. And that’s all we agreed on. If you wanted the mithril, too, then you should’ve said so; not my fault you failed to specify that point.” There was no amusement as he said it, though it was obvious that he enjoyed that little stunt. And while the ‘commodore’ obviously had his hand on the handle of his gun, he wouldn’t be able to move faster than two humans; the two suul’mahr lurking just beyond the airlock wouldn’t be much help after he was already riddled with bullets.
The ‘commodore’ regarded him for a few moments, then began laughing a cruel, calculated laugh. He gestured behind him, and one of the suul’mahr - all-brown fur - came aboard, carrying the large box onto their shuttle. After he’d observed its successful transfer of the package onto his shuttle, the ‘commodore’ turned back to Kyle.
“As stated before: you will hold this position until either my flotilla leaves, or destroys you for trying to trick me. And this time, I expect you to follow my directions, because you’re already targeted by my lead ship… Well, until next time.” With that, he exited the shuttle, their airlock door closing behind him, both humans remaining staring at the door.
They finally turned away when the shuttle disconnected, moving to look out the viewport to watch the other shuttle go back to its ship. Finally, his nerves got the better of him, and he asked to no one in particular,
“Do you think he will truly spare us?”
“There’s a chance,” Admiral Shane replied, “Depending on what kind of pirate he is; they can have varying codes of honor. He does - however - self-admittedly sell people into slavery, so I don’t know how strong his sense of ‘honor’ may be.”
They were all quiet for a while as he considered this, until Kyle’s soft voice - filled with sorrow - broke the silence.
“I’ve never killed anyone before. I mean, the mahn’ewe were all in a fit of rage; and while I’d fantasized about it, I didn’t exactly plan it. Now, though - with all this time to stop and think about it…” He fell silent at that, watching the shuttle go, though Kahv’Hosh wasn’t sure he was actually seeing it. To his surprise, Admiral Shane reached up and grasped Kyle’s shoulder, his voice gentle as he replied,
“It’s never easy. And while the mahn’ewe can probably be overlooked by your conscience, this is - obviously - a different situation entirely. There’s a chance that you never truly recover from this, but just always remember the innocent lives you’re saving by doing this; they’re what’s going to get you through the low points.”
Kyle nodded in acceptance, and then his face contorted, and a predatory smirk lit up his countenance.
“Have you ever seen one go off?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the viewport.
“Well,” the Admiral replied, a mischievous note in his voice, “I have seen a number of tests; of course, there was that pirate faction that we traced to their base in an asteroid. One on each side, and it was history.”
Kyle let out a cruel snort of laughter, and - not taking his eyes off of the viewport - said,
“Kahv’Hosh, did you ever get around to reading about the women of Weinsberg?”
He wasn’t sure where this was going, but he decided to play along.
“I did," he replied slowly.
“And if you knew nothing else about humans,” Kyle began, a cruel smile on his face, “Would you have accepted that deal?”
He managed to take a breath in before something in his mind clicked. Something had seemed off from the beginning, but he couldn’t place exactly what it was. He’d been given clearance to review the transmission from the part where the ‘commodore’ broke in, and he had been replaying it in his mind ever since then, trying to figure out what was gnawing at his mind like a pup with a bone.
But nothing came out at first, as his mind struggled to form words; he managed simply to point out the viewport to the shuttle - that was almost to its ‘mothership’ - and to look back and forth between him and it, before he finally managed to spit out,
“Wh-... you-... why would the arti-... the ‘override code’: why would it be in Galactic Standard?!”
The smile on his face widened, and he was suddenly aware that he was on a small shuttle with two Class 12 aggressors. Kyle - however - merely pulled the cube from his pocket, and said,
“Kay’Eighty?”
The cube began to dissolve, reforming into the humanoid shape that was her android form.
“Yes, Ambassador Redding?” she replied in a distinctly… robotic voice. Kyle merely scoffed, however, and rebutted with,
“Aw, come on; it’s not like he gave us ample opportunity to talk: I had to think of something on the fly…”
She suddenly became much more ‘sapient’ crossing her arms, and looking off to the side as she sighed.
“Fine,” she replied, “Whatever; what do you want?”
Kyle snorted in laughter, and asked,
“Has he made it to the optimal range, yet?”
Kay’Eighty sighed again, and looked out the viewport.
“Just about, yeah.”
“Then I leave the honors to you,” he finished, holding her up for a better view of the viewport.
“Detonation in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”
Kahv’Hosh found that though he was sure this was going to be on par with their aggression level, he also couldn’t look away; like watching an asteroid impact a planet: he knew something bad was coming, but he just couldn’t bring himself to break eye-contact with the nine ships in formation, the middlemost one having already received the shuttle. And even as he watched, the ships seemed to draw closer together.
At first he thought that it must be his eyes playing tricks on him, but soon enough, not only were they drawing closer together, but they began to spin around the central ship, as if caught in the gravity-well of some insanely dense celestial body. He saw small explosions issuing from the sides. with little bits breaking off into the void of space, only for the expanding singularity - for that was obviously what it was - to suck the life-pods back into its center, where everything seemingly disappeared into nothingness. Soon, the ships themselves began breaking apart, still doing their destructive, tumbling dance around the spot where the ‘commodore’s ship used to be.
Piece by piece, the ships began to break apart, ‘falling’ into the center, where they were obviously compressed beyond what physics would normally allow. He tried not to think about the fate of the people aboard the ships, gravity increasing to the point that you were crushed under the weight of your own skin, having to watch - if they could even survive - as the ship around them broke apart, exposing them to the blackness of space.
He managed a quick look back at the humans, and was granted some small consolation in that the evil smiles had left their faces, and both had looks of somber determination gracing their features. And at that moment, he believed he knew what it was that set them so high on the aggression scale; even they were appalled by their actions - by their own weapons - and yet not even the prospect of becoming a monster would stop them from removing a perceived threat.
Soon, all pieces of the ships were gone, and about a Standard minute after that, the anomalous gravity readings disappeared. And suddenly space had returned to ‘normal’, as if nothing unnatural had just happened. Kyle broke the silence in a neutral voice as he said,
“Well, let’s get back to the ship; Cap’m’s gonna tear me a new one for this…”
[Next.] Patreon

I know quitting your job as a cook usually simply comes with two weeks notice or a ragequit walkout, but for eleven months I worked at a new franchise that had such potential which was being squandered by the incompetence of upper management. I present the nearly 6000 word thesis I turned in on my last day. Locations and names have been changed to cartoon references. Brackets represent ambiguous information in place of specific details.
Krusty Krab Careers Jobs
Opening in [Month/Year], Krusty Krab (KK) Bikini Bottom is on its 4th kitchen manager in less than a year. Krusty Krab O-Town has recently let go its inaugural kitchen manager and sous chef. Almost no member of the Bikini Bottom opening management team remains employed by KK. There is a pattern developing where one must question both the choice of employee and the directive given to new franchises. These lingering issues I brought concerns about in the first weeks of opening but was disregarded at every turn despite my experience with festival traffic. As a result I decided this was not a place I wanted to advance, but with a good-enough paycheck I’d be a lowly grunt in the kitchen four days a week, at five days a week I would have quit or been fired over a public outburst long ago. If Krusty Krab alters course slightly while being true to the brand this could be a successful chain.
My unique employment history in brick and mortar restaurants, food trucks, pop up culinary concepts, trade shows/conventions, and the film industry make me an ideal candidate to be on the opening team for new KK locations. My outgoing nature and foresight are valuable assets. For example, on training week before opening when I was standing around idly without a task I took it upon myself to organize the disarray that was dry storage. Overhearing Krabs tell another manager where he wanted the cleaning products placed, I had a jumping off point and the organization I created nine months ago is still largely in place. Since returning from my vacation in early February I have made it my mission to keep the storage area organized because it was again starting to resemble a hoarder’s house rather than a commercial kitchen. This is now part of my weekly routines because every time I turn my back there is more product being placed haphazardly just anywhere with little regard. I also recently reorganized the walk-in cooler because of problematic stocking with items being placed on the same shelf or below raw proteins. I also simply put all the like products together such as cheeses or fruits that were scattered amongst several shelves. With recent overordering I cannot keep up with the organization of the walk in cooler. The pattern recognition of food types and even simple shapes appears to be lost on the Bikini Bottom crew. My daily reorganization of containers is proof of this. Most days I’ll take a few minutes to put all cylinders together, all cambros together in descending volume, all deep and shallow pans next to each other rather than intermixed. My decision to be a kitchen manager at age 19 from 2005 thru 2008 and rarely enter restaurant management since is very calculated.
With my prior knowledge of professional kitchens I was becoming Bikini Bottom’s resident nag to coworkers as I made note of health department violations on a daily basis. I stopped after being largely ignored for two weeks. My regular health department nags include; a battle with jackets and hats being placed only in the designated area (a designated area that did not exist until I created a place for personal items a in January by neatly organizing the dry storage area again), waiting until prepped items are cooled before a cover is placed on top, placement of raw seafood, open containers (very often sugar, flour, and pancake mix bags ripped open and left), and dirty dishes/containers placed back in rotation. The dirty dishes and containers in rotation with the clean ones are at an atrociously high number. I have given up on making the 4th fryer seafood allergy safe too. With the low volume of seafood allergy safe items Bikini Bottom should purchase smaller baskets to visually discourage cross contamination with the other fryers and baskets. My skills to organize the kitchen do not end with simply where to store products to meet minimal health department standards.
Half of the space in the Bikini Bottom kitchen is completely wasted on an ill-advised walkway to the dishpit. An intelligent design would place a second doorway directly to the dishpit connected to the bar or where the bathrooms reside. Numerous times during the opening week of KK Bikini Bottom I said, yelled, sang, and muttered that we have too many food items for the amount of space we have. Icus stated that there was more space than Bluffington. Is Bluffington intelligently designed? Because Bikini Bottom most certainly isn’t. So Bikini Bottom actually has less space even if there is more square footage. See the attached diagram for an intelligent design that could potentially house a menu of this size. Bikini Bottom forces a line design on this kitchen when an open concept is needed for this menu. It’s as if this floorplan was created by a person who had only ever seen one commercial kitchen previously and couldn’t think 4th dimensionally to understand the needs of the workers to smoothly serve customers.
There is not enough counter space for pizzas without getting off the line, the microwave is placed completely out of the way, the freezer’s curved design is a waste of potential counter space and a falling hazard for containers stored on top of it, the toaster is an overcomplicated and overexpensive piece of machinery that serves exactly one purpose when a flat top could be used to toast bread and other purposes like a quesadilla special, sautee was designed without an overhang for spices, the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter for seafood allergies, there are no Frialator fryers which I have worked with at every single kitchen job previously instead we got the cheap Vulcan model (is that logical), the cheap low boy in pantry that doesn’t drain excess water anywhere it’s just supposed to evaporate somehow but doesn’t, the grill and fryer should be placed next to each other (with a higher volume of crossover than other stations), the floors are flat instead on having a mild decline towards the drains (just look at the standing water residing behind the oven right now), in the dishpit the spraying area and the filled sinks are backwards of a logical dipshit, the ramp to the back door is on the wrong side, there is no refrigerated place downstairs to stage extra food for busy shifts (the beer cooler is once again used for such food items because of this massive oversight), the prep station is an afterthought and miniscule, the dishes on the line are difficult to grab for anyone under 5’11” and inaccessible for anyone under 5’6” (instead of putting them underneath tables that also give that desperately needed counterspace I spoke of), there is not enough space to store to-go containers or boats behind the line, expo is lacking a low boy for the numerous items that are supposed to be cold but are instead kept at room temperature all day long, no one in management thought about buying shelves until right before Bikini Bottom opened as a result the clean full sheets sat on the floor for days, we had only the exact amount of 1⁄6 pans for an absurd amount of time making it impossible to rotate and clean them when necessary (which is daily), we still struggle with 1/9 pan supply. And just when I thought I documented all the poor design choices possible I stumbled upon a person whose office holiday party was booked at KK Bikini Bottom. The deck space works just fine as a deck. It does not double well as a gathering space. The space is too long and narrow for parties, it promotes little splitoff groups rather than a coming together of a larger gathering. It may be advantageous to contact a social psychologist for help designing a private party space that promotes intermingling rather than enforcing small pockets to form. The reorganization of the physical kitchen isn’t all that screams for an overhaul.
There are six positions on the line at the Krusty Krab; expo, oven, grill, sautee, fryer, and pantry. But the pantry and fryer positions are forced together like a bad remix. Everyone who mainly works pantry deserves a $6 raise immediately because it is a station and a half. Both Icus and Krumm, while kitchen manager, kind of acknowledged the pantry is too big for one station without outright mentioning the lopsided distribution of work. I imagine in the only location where this works, Bluffington, a second person joins the pantry at noon because of the unreasonable amount of items one person is tasked with. Bikini Bottom only has one person in this position at all times, maybe modify it for one person? The excess of items on the pantry position largely resembles a position I would call “set-up” or “build” at a previous job that made sensible choices. This build position should have tostadas, tacos, butcher’s blocks, toast, salads, lettuce wrap set ups, and preparing plating for whichever station is most bogged down. I have absolutely lost my mind yelling about salads at least once a month, ranting that they do not belong on the fryer position because of how illogical it is that five salads are included on the mountain of other items the pantry has. I have always considered working in a kitchen a kind of dance, and the pantry station demands an unnecessarily convoluted dance to keep up with the demand. Without the salads, tostadas, and tacos the station is already the busiest. Do we really need to combine ballet and swing by including these extra awkward dance steps in this single station? For a kitchen designed this poorly I suppose it is. Again, see attached document for an intelligently designed kitchen that might be able to accommodate this menu. Unless Bikini Bottom is going to close for a month to fix the baffling floor plan design the menu is shouting to be reduced to 30-36 items.
The menu is too big. Krusty Krab is the jack of all foods, master of none. In general I believe individual locations should be allowed 18% omissions, and 18% unique items to this wildly unwieldy menu sitting around 50 food items including sides. The insistence on keeping menu items that don’t sell at Bikini Bottom because of Bluffington is mind boggling. Chicken tenders do not sell at Bikini Bottom. fried sushi does not sell at Bikini Bottom, not enough to justify their place on the line. I don’t care how well these items work in Bluffinton. They. Do. Not. Work. At. Bikini. Bottom. If the KK location in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean sells an incredible amount of live krill does that mean Bikini Bottom and O-Town must sell live krill too? Take the fried sushi off the menu. I had a complete meltdown about this during a Dimmadome service and my valid point was met with indifference. Replace the kid’s tenders with a kid’s fish sticks. We already have the tilapia fish sticks on the line for tacos. Or make the kid’s fish sticks cod. We cut cod to order for fish tacos in spite of health code violations because it is too rare of an order to make beforehand. Saffron in mashed potatoes? If you must. Why are green tomatoes only on the menu during lunch? Bikini Bottom throws away a sizable amount of spoiled green tomatoes each week. Have green tomatoes on the menu all day long or don’t have them at all. The smoked salmon could go on salads or a special taco to justify its place on the line. The corn pico’s place on the line is unjustified. It only goes on one item, tostadas, which are not particularly popular. If we had a taco salad we could throw the corn pico on there. We also have unreasonable waste from unusable taco shells, smash up those imperfect taco shells and throw them on said taco salad. But before we add salads, let's get rid of the pear and kale salads. The pears' position on the line are unjustified, if we threw them on a taco variation maybe their place on the Bikini Bottom line could be argued but for now they only go on a salad that isn’t particularly popular. The kale salad is an issue of space for a 4th green for salads is too much. The krusty salad is my most hated house salad of all time. And it comes down to the toast with goat cheese. This ancillary step of spreading goat cheese on a cracker is an unnecessary step for an overly complicated dance and should be part of the expo dance if expo wasn’t a shoddily designed afterthought lacking a low boy.
There are a plethora of squeeze bottles on the pantry station that have no place on the overloaded station. They belong to an expo station with a low boy to keep them cold. Pantry has an overwhelming ten squeeze bottles: chipotle crema, sweet chili vinaigrette, buffalo, korean bbq, ranch, caesar, wine vinaigrette, lemon vinaigrette, honey mustard, and lemon aioli. Only the first four are justified on an intelligently designed fryer section, the second four belong on the build station, the last two have no place anywhere but expo. With this extra space sautee could keep their bottles and two purees cold in the fryer's lowboy instead of leaving them at room temperature all day inviting a pathogen party. This theorized intelligently designed expo would have room to keep these four squeeze bottles and a double of every sauce chilled to pour them into ramekins, a move that is highly common in the expo dance. The fact that expo doesn’t have a double of all squeeze bottles is foolish. Expo has to bother an overloaded station to pour these side sauces instead.
How many gallons of basil aioli has Bikini Bottom thrown away in 11 months? Four aiolis in general is way too many and most go on a single item; basil aioli on the incredibly unpopular veggie burger, lemon aioli for calamari, sweet chili aioli for the BLT that is only served half of the day, and garlic aioli actually goes on two items…I believe. What a colossal waste of precious little space, lose two aiolis and then you can sing the logical song with me. Perhaps we can put garlic aioli and sweet chili vinaigrette on the BLT separately and accomplish the exact same thing the sweet chili aioli does. The wings too have unneeded complications. Having worked at a sports bar specializing in wings for the better part of a decade I find KK’s plating of wings to be overly pretentious. The carrots, celery, and blue cheese have lost function. Heffer Wolf always said no one eats the carrot/celery julienne with blue cheese. It’s a complete waste of all the ingredients because you’ve gone too far with the presentation. Wings aren’t fancy. Wings are supposed to have a small pool of sauce and be sloppy. It’s like a sloppy joe that’s not sloppy, an unsloppy joe is a failure to sloppy joes just as the KK presentation of wings is a disparagement to the dish. Ever since training week back in 2022 I have used a scale to give Bikini Bottom a passing or failing grade.
Chokey Chicken to Chum Bucket is the scale I use to judge efficiency and sanity at Bikini Bottom. Both establishments are upscale casual dining experiences in Capitol City in the same vein as KK. Chokey had high employee retention and relatively smooth openings for new locations. Chum Bucket’s employee turnover was high and every location opening was chaotic. Which one sounds closer to KK? Chokey Chicken was filled with chefs I respect including Chef Ren Hoek who remains a close friend to this day. Ren lost his lifelong passion for kitchen work after working management at Chum Bucket. He’s actually seeking work in Bikini Bottom. Call him up at [phone number], but KK will give him Nam’ flashbacks of why he chose driving for a living rather than cooking for five years. The pair of us together helming Bikini Bottom with the ability to omit and create 18% of the overloaded menu can bring success to this franchise. We have worked well numerous times in the past on various concepts in the past including creating The Attack of the Pickled Tomatoes Burger for [Promotional live performance of a TV show] at the Capitol City Theater. We served 100 people in 60 at the [sitcom filming] lunch. That’s physically impossible but somehow we did it quite a few times.
A fun anecdote about Ren Hoek’s KK experience from the soft launch; on training week numerous times I brought concerns about being seafood allergy safe that were dismissed. As mentioned earlier the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter, one each of which seafood never touches. Before the soft launch Chef Stimpy from Bluffington insisted all customers just kind of know everything is prone to be seafood contaminated. Well, chef Ren was a customer that night and this absolutely was not communicated to customers. He claimed to have a slight seafood allergy and was not informed of what the crab soup was. In reality he does not have a seafood allergy. I didn’t discuss the seafood issue with Ren, separately we noticed egregious violations of food safety standards and we each responded in our own way. The soft launch service was so awful that night Chef Ren walked out of a free meal to pay for some ramen, never to return to Bikini Bottom. I attribute this oversight, and many of Bikini Bottom’s (and probably O-Town’s) problems to hubris over the Bluffington location.
Chef Chokey would also be hesitant to join the KK team. It will cost a finder’s fee just for me to reveal Chef Chokey’s name. Chef Chokey was a lead in the rapid expansion of Chokey Chicken restaurants. He opened numerous restaurants and was big on the philosophy that each restaurant must have its own personality in order to fit the unique local culture and the variety of working spaces. This is in direct conflict with the KK way that everything must be exactly like the Bluffington location no matter what. There was only one Chokey Chicken location that had the full menu, Chokey Springfield. Chokey Springfield had a large space which was intelligently designed to accommodate such a large menu. The KK menu is all over the place, closing in on 50 menu items which comes up as a failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale. This is not the only area KK comes up as a major failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale.
Has anyone in this company ever worked festival traffic before? Does anyone have the experience of working next to a major venue with 8000 seats before this one? The way Bikini Bottom handles Dimmadome services it certainly appears that the decision-makers fall on the wrong side of the Dunning-Kruger effect. Having all 50 items available during such massive traffic is completely asinine. An unwillingness to serve a partial menu is hindering the Bikini Bottom kitchen staff. I have worked festival traffic before, and Dimmadome events bring in festival traffic. I’ve worked inside a festival whose line never ended but every customer got their order in 5 minutes or less because the line kept flowing with only four items on the menu as that’s what was warranted at the B-Sharps Music Festival. I refuse to be set up for failure the way Bikini Bottom sets up Dimmadome services for failure. The entire week of concerts in [summer] 2022 I was set up for failure every day (it was after this I modified my availability to keep my sanity and my paycheck). When I brought my concerns about running efficiently during Dimmadome services I was labeled a B-worker for the first time in my employment history by Icus and Krabs. It is that moment which I was either going to holler at them both for being 2-dimensional thinkers who were obviously unqualified for the positions they accepted in this company, or just put my head down. If Bikini Bottom has a successful concert day service, hail your team because they snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. They swam with concrete shoes. I often wonder how many customers had bad experiences and never returned after concert days. A Dimmadome service should have no more than 25 items and have one or two specials to divert traffic towards an area the kitchen can keep moving. An Open Cup Open Plate (OCOP) special for foot traffic is absolutely needed. When I suggested OCOP special, Heffer was intrigued by this idea and immediately named burgers as the special to keep foot traffic flowing. Smithers wouldn’t hear this idea, babbling on about what’s advertised instead of hearing out a sound idea. This prattle despite radio commercials having inaccurate hours and social media promoting Bikini Bottom’s steak tacos to this day. I always found Smithers to be a better fit as a middle management office pencil pusher than as a hands-on restaurant manager. Overall I find KK managers are selected to be automatons not to question their orders rather than critical thinkers who could take the restaurant to the next level. During brunch service is another period of time that must be modified to lessen the heft of items. Having a full menu that barely works plus brunch is so deep into Chum Bucket territory, in my opinion we now have to use the Tropic Thunder scale of full retard to describe a 60-plus-item brunch. Chef Ren hired back a Chum Bucket cook who had a mental breakdown and stormed out during brunch (plus full menu) service because Ren knew the employee was justified and upper management was completely unreasonable in their brunch requests. It’s not just questionable decisions that hinder KK staff but improper equipment as well.
This is the first restaurant I have worked at which uses a touch screen on the line rather than tickets. From day one I found this to be technology for technology’s sake inferior to tickets. Chef Ren forced a new Chum Bucket location to rip out touch screens from the line and bring in ticket printers because of the higher efficiency. The touch screen is a great idea for expo, not the entire line. My biggest gripe is that each station does not get all the information. Early on I was regularly yelled at for not staggering my items, well I can’t see the rest of the order; a problem I have never had with a ticket system. Touchscreen software is also much more prone to errors and glitches. When I reported an error during a heavy service Icus and Krabs blamed my skills on the line without looking into the malfunctioning screen further. It was glitchy for weeks before the two finally investigated and corrected the issue I brought to their attention long before. Those two gave me an immense amount of ammunition to dislike them in the opening weeks until I stopped caring. The issue I had with being unable to scroll beyond the bottom of a completely filled screen has returned and is still there as of [my last day]. There are also important details that get buried. A frequent meltdown I have is that sauce on side requests and other important modifications are not capitalized or in red to catch the eye as they have been at jobs with tickets. These details get lost on Bikini Bottom’s touchscreens. A sauce on side salad made by me will be wrong 50% of the time because of the instructions being camouflaged in a word salad. This goes for coleslaw on the side and drizzle on the side too. Drizzle in general I dislike because of the pretentiousness, but whatever, drizzle it on top rather than putting it in a ramekin if you must. There are numerous places where Bikini Bottom overcomplicates matters for reasons I cannot ascertain.
Why is there such a large variety of plates? Why do we have a medium circular plate for salads and a large bowl for salads with protein? This just confuses the simplest of matters. I was told this is done because of the high price hike with protein, a larger presentation was desired. But that price hike is the price of protein in 2023. Bikini Bottom should put all salads in the large bowls and use all the circular salad plates in a skeet shooting promotion. I understand why we have both a circular platter plate and a pizza plate but in my restaurant the circular platter plates must go...or maybe the large platter plate instead. Is the large platter used for anything besides fish and chips? That extra space on fish and chips plates are only used for side sauces which can easily be delivered to customers on small circular plates. What is the medium oval plate doing that the medium rectangular plate isn’t? And vice versa. Why do they both exist when they are approximately the same size? Let me write an internet commercial where we break a lot of plates so we can get some logical use out of the superfluous plates. I don’t care which one is destroyed, the ovals or the rectangles but one of them is an unnecessary redundancy in excess done again. Speaking of commercials, the unimaginative radio advertisements for Bikini Bottom are doing little to lure new customers to the restaurant.
The three radio spots I have heard on KBBL all sound like they were produced by a marketing 101 student who wasn’t a natural in the field. The voiceover actor was so uncharismatic I was certain someone from the office was chosen at random to read the copy. Then I heard that same voiceover actor selling pool supplies on another radio station so I concluded that Bikini Bottom must have hired the cheapest guy in town to produce the most basic of commercials. Perhaps there is someone else you could hire more qualified to voiceover these commercials, an actor with experience on an Emmy award winning cable program whose unique place in the film industry was written about on [website] would be a much wiser choice to be the voice of the KK? (See external link). In the ad there was no catchphrase, no jingle, no music whatsoever. This simple approach to commercials lacks the pizazz to catch the attention of radio listeners. The first two commercials I heard would get a C in marketing 101 as they were nearly the exact same and accomplished the bare minimum to sell wares, the third one would maybe get a B- because there was some sort of attempted gimmick with the voiceover whispering to represent thinking inside his head about what he was going to eat later at KK. Not only does this commercial give no reason for the man to think inside his head, the outside world still and unpopulated. To see what a creative person would do with this concept see the attached script. There is an attempted slogan that could become part of an ad campaign. Commercials aren’t the only lost opportunities in promotions.
There are numerous promotional celebrity tie-ins at Bikini Bottom’s fingertips with Dimmadome performers. The restaurant could have a Phish sandwich as a OCOP special on [Phish performance dates], or a pretentious Jelly Roll on [Jelly Roll performance date]. Has anyone reached out to the Dimmadome theater or talent management for approved special menu items to be promoted inside the dome? Perhaps a special 20% discount to ticket holders? Is Bikini Bottom capable of getting permits to extend Open Container hours beyond [cutoff time] for an afterparty or block party throughout a Dimmadome concert? I see additional marketing opportunities left on the table for all new locations.
I believe new KK locations are missing out on a marketing campaign by opening with the entire cumbersome 50 item menu. This is a staggering amount of menu items which is too much to ask new staffers to perfect all at once. After a few months expanding the menu by approximately ten items is catching to customers who haven’t returned after a single visit or infrequently stop into KK. There are ten new food items that might appeal to them. Just like it appears KK doesn’t know what it’s looking for in a good commercial spot, this company doesn’t appear to recognize a talented from an untalented worker until it’s too late.
It is my understanding that KK had a headhunter to find Icus, the first Bikini Bottom kitchen manager. If it were up to me I’d hire someone to break the legs of that headhunter for bringing in a subpar kitchen lead. We are still attempting to recover from the lousy choices she made in the floor plan. If anybody responsible for Bikini Bottom’s floor plan is still giving input, stop them immediately. Once the doors were open to the public Icus had his head in the clouds to a point where I questioned if he saw the writing on the walls of an imminent demotion and stopped trying as a result. I had a full deck of 3x5 cards in an archaic powerpoint presentation bringing numerous concerns to light that he kept putting off listening to until he was fired. Those same cards were broken out for this essay. The second kitchen manager, Krumm, is a good lesson in honesty. According to Heffer, Krumm was given a bill of goods about how smoothly KK Bikini Bottom was running. Since Krumm stepped into a latrine pit which he was led to believe was a heated pool, he left in short time. Krumm also had plans to modify the menu but when his bosses told him to be a rodeo clown rather than a cowboy Krumm didn’t take too kindly to that. Meanwhile Heffer was the savior of the Bikini Bottom kitchen. I didn’t agree with every single decision he made, but I did with a majority of them. Heffer’s overhaul was such a blessing so I didn’t have to fiddle with the organization of 60% of the equipment anymore, only about 20% now. Too bad Heffer’s crippling depression came back after bashing his head into the wall out of frustration with the shackles KK restrained him with.
The current management team is enthusiastic but inexperienced. I see an accumulation of small infractions that might bring down Bikini Bottom’s health department rating significantly. I see the entire management team being inattentive or unaware about organizational issues. Whatever bureaucratic nonsense corporate tasks everyone with from the original sous chef Skeeter to Patty Mayonnaise that makes them walk away from the line between 11am and 1pm especially is infuriating. I have never been left alone on a multi-person line during peak hours so regularly, and I won’t tolerate it anymore. As much as I believe in his drive, I imagine our current kitchen manager SpongeBob will be let go after a disastrous service during the Dimmadome concert season that someone has to take the fall for. Chef Ren and I could help bring experience in management and dealing with festival traffic...if corporate does not force us to follow a failing strategy.
After working nearly a year at KK you may ask why I’m not proficient on more than one station. Excellent question. First, when I move over to another station the squeeze bottles are never labeled (until Stu Pickles was hired, now they’re sometimes labeled), so I always looked at the glut of unlabeled sauces and I’d go back to my station because the basic information is missing (also a health department violation for having numerous unlabeled, unchilled bottles). In his first week the new general manager Stu Pickles pulled out 90% of the containers under the grill station because they were lacking labels despite an expected health department visit. The second reason for my menu ignorance is the mountain of prep for my own and upcoming shifts I have piled up on my station throughout service. My attention to detail appears to be next level with my ability to anticipate stocking all items for all shifts including the weeknd. The third reason I wouldn’t learn multiple stations is a defense against the afternoon conference calls. In [month] the Bikini Bottom line was unprepared for a busy post lunch because one cook was cut and our expo person was busy with a conference call. The two of us remaining on the line had a miserable slog through an unexpectedly busy afternoon. When I brought this up to Krabs he disregarded me, being a good bean counter he quoted the cost percentage. What he didn’t take into account was the missing expo person who could have jumped on the line and expo to help the understaffed two man team. That person was stuck on a conference call. Just recently I saw the company actively lose money because of this poorly thought-out meeting during business hours. A customer wanted to order a dessert that was 86ed but had been restocked by our prep cook an hour before. The server was unable to sell them their dessert because the only person in the building who could help un-86 an item was on a conference call. This conference call calamity is another bone-headed choice that speaks to a larger decision-making problem within the corporate structure. Finish the conference calls by 10:45 am eastern.
In conclusion, I quit my position as a lowly grunt for this company because of its unwarranted perplexing dance steps and below average management. I don’t care how much varnish and lacquer is supplied, I refuse to polish this Bikini Bottom turd as a manager or full-time employee under the current circumstances. You would have to take a pickaxe to the floor, possibly relocate the bathrooms to add a door to the dishpit, get rid of the cheap low boy that doesn’t properly drain excess water, and Mr Gorbachov knock down that wall in the middle of the kitchen to give the proper amount of space to work. Or simply reduce the menu to 36 items (including sides) because that’s the amount of space this dreadful design can comfortably output. Would Gordon Ramsay compliment KK for all the unnecessary convoluted complications abound, or would Chef Ramsay yell about keeping it simple and demand KK chuck it in the flip? Thanks to the numerous pop up restaurants I have been a part of and the hectic world of trade shows/conventions, I may have more experience than anyone else employed by KK in smoothly opening a new location. I would enjoy being part of the opening team to ensure new locations have an efficiency Bikini Bottom lacks, and to keep upper management away from their worst instincts. Work with me and Chef Ren and we will help you become a well oiled machine like Chokey Chicken instead of the Chum Bucket cesspit Bikini Bottom currently embodies.

The Holy Martyr Justin the Philosopher (also known as Justin Martyr) was born around 114 at Sychem, an ancient city of Samaria. He called himself a Samaritan, although his father, Priscos, and grandfather, Baccheios, may have been pagan Greeks. From his childhood he displayed intelligence, love for knowledge and a fervent devotion to the knowledge of truth. When he came of age he studied the various schools of Greek philosophy: the Stoics, the Peripatetics, the Pythagoreans, the Platonists, and he concluded that none of these pagan teachings revealed the way to knowledge of the true God.
Once, when he was strolling in a solitary place beyond the city and pondering about where to seek the way to the knowledge of truth, he met an old man. In the ensuing conversation he revealed to Justin the essential nature of the Christian teaching and advised him to seek the answers to all the questions of life in the books of Holy Scripture. “But before anything else,” said the holy elder, “pray diligently to God, so that He might open to you the doors of light. No one is able to comprehend truth, unless he is granted understanding from God Himself, Who reveals it to each one who seeks Him in prayer and in love.”
In his thirtieth year, Justin accepted Holy Baptism (between the years 133 and 137). From this time he devoted his talents and vast philosophical knowledge to preaching the gospel among the pagans. He began to journey throughout the Roman Empire, sowing the seeds of faith. “Whosoever is able to proclaim truth and does not proclaim it will be condemned by God,” he wrote.
Justin opened a school of Christian philosophy. He subsequently defended the truth of Christian teaching, persuasively confuting pagan sophistry (in a debate with the Cynic philosopher Crescens) and heretical distortions of Christianity. He also spoke out against the teachings of the Gnostic Marcian.
In the year 155, when the emperor Antoninus Pius (138-161) started a persecution against Christians, Saint Justin personally wrote him an Apology in defense of three Christians innocently condemned to execution, Ptolemy and Lucias. The name of the third remains unknown.
In the Apology he demonstrated the falseness of the slander against Christians accused unjustly for merely having the name of Christians. The Apology had such a favorable effect upon the emperor that he ceased the persecution. Justin journeyed, by decision of the emperor, to Asia Minor where they were persecuting Christians with particular severity. He proclaimed the joyous message of the imperial edict throughout the surrounding cities and countryside.
The debate of Justin with the Rabbi Trypho took place at Ephesus. The Orthodox philosopher demonstrated the truth of the Christian teaching of faith on the basis of the Old Testament prophetic writings. Justin gave an account of this debate in his work Dialogue with Trypho the Jew.
A second Apology of Saint Justin was addressed to the Roman Senate. It was written in the year 161, soon after Marcus Aurelius (161-180) ascended the throne.
When he returned to Italy, Justin, like the Apostles, preached the gospel everywhere, converting many to the Christian faith. When the Saint arrived at Rome, the envious Crescens, whom Justin always defeated in debate, brought many false accusations against him before the Roman court. Saint Justin was put under guard, subjected to torture and suffered martyrdom by beheading in 165. The relics of Saint Justin the Philosopher rest in Rome.
In addition to the above-mentioned works, the following are also attributed to the Holy Martyr Justin the Philosopher:

1. On the Resurrection
2. A Discourse to the Greeks
3. Exhortation to the Greeks
4. On Monarchy
5. Exposition of the Faith
6. Letter to Zenas and Serenus
7. Answers to the Orthodox
8. The Greek's Questions to the Christians
9. Refutation of Certain Aristotelean Theses
10. The Psalmist
11. On the Soul

Saint John of Damascus preserved a significant part of Saint Justin’s On the Resurrection, which has not survived. The ecclesiastical historian Eusebius asserts that Saint Justin wrote books titled:

1. The Singer
2. Denunciation of all Existing Heresies
3. Against Marcian

(from johnsanidopoulos.com)

First Previous Next Ko-fi
It took three portal jumps through space, warping the travel in cohorts with the jumps to have them hovering over Planet Qwatar. Astor Boy sat in the captain's chair, sweat beading between his brows. A heavy breath gently steadying into short sharp exhales. It had been one of the most tasking jobs he'd ever done and the strain on him was visible.
"You look like a starved ferret." Zahara said from her normal position next to the door leading into the cabin.
"I've just jumped thrice through space, regulating the thrust to jump ratio to ensure the transponder doesn't malfunction mid jump. Forgive me if I'm worse for wear." Astro Boy said while running his hand through his brown wavy hair. Zahara scold at him.
Astro Boy wondered why she seemed so angry whenever she regarded him, he just passed it off as a Solstice thing. A perk of the women who have been oppressed by the empire several times, no doubt Adjuncts have knocked at their door, seeking to implement the Empire's will where it wasn't needed.
"Where are the others?" Zahara asked. They were alone in the cabin.
"They are suiting up." Astro Boy answered.
As if on cue the trio appeared. Juice had fashioned a Lethal strapper hauberk by conjoining three Lethal strappers around his torso, the muscles on his arms bulged from the sides of the vest like structure wrapped around him in a grey brown mesh of insulated thread. He also wore tight leather pants with leg greaves fashioned from Tangle tree bark to his legs. Astro Boy wondered where they'd gotten Tangle tree bark from, he hadn't been paying attention during the gift giving with the Solstice.
Honey appeared next, dressed in a single Lethal strapper that flowed down the length of his body like a robe. This Lethal strapper was of a permanent black hue that tangled in sharp contrast with Honey's pale skin.
"Bring up the scan." Honey said. Tweek followed behind in his usual trousers and shirt with the ugly polka dot tie. The Droid followed last.
Astro Boy hit at the deck buttons and on the screen a layout of the planet's terra structure formed. They hovered just out of orbit, a long way from any orbiting satellites that might spot them.
The screen overlayed an image of a large palace like structure and the heat map indicated several roaming bands of hostiles doing rounds about the palace. It had been Astro Boy's idea to launch an orbital scan of the area once he'd seen the gadgets adorning the warship.
"It appears to be surrounded by roaming bands of hostiles trailing wolves." Astro Boy said.
"How did you know there are wolves?" Zahara asked.
"The heat map shows roaming clusters around several points. I'm betting the points are humans and the clusters of heat being wolves trailing the command." Astro Boy said.
"Quite a smart lad you are, isn't that so Astro Dude?" Zahara asked.
"Enough flirting." Honey Badger interjected, "Lower us south of the palace, there near that water body." He pointed at the screen.
"That's not a water body, it's a mountain." Astro Boy answered.
"Yes, I knew that. was just testing your alertness Astro Dude." Honey Badger said.
"Perhaps we should reconsider going after this Kogi guy. I mean, we can look for another place, somewhere where it's just us and try to make a life for ourselves." Tweek said.
"As it has been said before," Juice started. "There's no peace as long as we are Tevorah, we need to hunt them down or else become the hunted."
"But these ten suitors haven't chased us like the other suitors have done." Tweek argued.
"That's because the date for a hunt hasn't been set yet." Astro Boy said. All heads turned to him. "The ten suitors, now nine have banded together to approach the Tevorah as a whole, the 'when' of this oncoming assault has yet to be decided but it's the talk of the spectrum net. The suitors are hesitant, underestimating you brought about the deaths of The twins of Ashkemar and Genabis the destroyer. The Acrylic weaver is yet to act, some say he's given the West star empire's suitors a go at you first before he acts, just to test your will."
"This Acrylic Weaver, how powerful is he?" Juice asked.
"He represents the Central Star Empire, some say he is augmented in every aspect of the word. His actions are always hidden, he ponders before he acts that's why he is yet to make his will known." Astro Boy answered.
Juice nodded and beckoned with a hand to Honey Badger. Honey reached within his Lethal strapper and unhitched a golden glowing Light Sword which he handed to Juice who tested the weight of the blade with several swishing moves before nodding in acquiescence, the potency of the blade satisfying to him.
"Drop us at the base of that mountain, we'll make a way for the Palace on our own." Juice said. "The tree cover between there and where the heat maps show human traffic is too dense to permit them to see our ship."
Tweek beckoned to Honey Badger as Juice had done but Honey regarded him with an easy glare. "What's those hand gestures for?"
"Well I want a weapon too!" Tweek said. A short silenced ensued that was immediately followed by laughing outbursts from everyone save Tweek.
"This mission isn't for you Tweek." Honey said as the laughter died down.
"I concur, stay with Astro Boy and Zahara on the ship." Juice said.
"But I want to help." Tweek interjected.
"You'll be of better help here, away from danger." Honey Badger said.
"Wait a minute, what do you mean 'Stay with Astro Boy and Zahara?'" Zahara voiced her indifference. "I'm coming with you guys, I haven't killed a man in weeks."
Honey Badger walked towards Zahara and placed a hand on her shoulder which she immediately shook off. "The time for you to show your fangs is yet to come, right now we require stealth not to run in guns blazing. We also require milk—"
"What he's saying is, we need you here on this ship to protect us." Astro Boy interjected.
"You need protecting?" Zahara, leaning over to peer at Astro Boy who nodded.
"Lower us." Juice commanded and Astro Boy moved to work. Tapping blinking buttons and pulling at levers. The ship made its slow descent into the planet Qwatar, barreling through the stratosphere, heating around its cone shaped front as it pushed ever downwards through the planet's gravity pull. Astro Boy maneuvered the ship through dense cloud cover, etching ever lower until the ship's belly scratched at the tree cover. He found a clearing just north of the mountain where he brought the ship to ground.
The middle hatch opened and a ramp formed its way to touch at the pebbled floor of the Planet Qwatar. Juice flexed his shoulders. "Wait here for us." He said while brandishing his sword and made his way to the ramp.
"We're going hunting." Honey Badger said and ejected two plasma pistols from his Lethal strapper. "Do not pray for us." He whispered. "We don't need that bad luck." And together him and Juice left the spaceship to wage war against a planet full of hostiles and roaming wolves.

Each time I have to interact with my cats or even if they are just around while I'm doing sonething else I have to be careful of my movements in fear I ecen just brush them with my leg leading to me thinking I might have thought of hurting them. Sometimes too I would just carry them and my body would automatically squeeze them as if I wanted to hurt them but I would never do that or my I open the door to my room I would place my foot in the opening since my cats are very insistant on getting in but last time this happened I didn't move my foot and my cat squeezed underneath and I could have moved my foot upward as to facilitate their entry so that they wouldn't hurt themselves but didn't. In short there are plenty of scenarios wher my body moves on its own as if to hurt them for sone reason. To apologize to them I usually pet them so I can reassure them even though I didn't hurt them and they show no sign of being hurt ir distessed. This go so far as me having to pet them when I think I might have bothered or blinded them while turning on a light or when I think they might have been jealous of me petting one them and not the others. All this wouldn't be a problem if my hand weren't constantly dirty so I feel guilty of petting them. So I go wash my hands before petting them which sometimes means I involuntarily touch a surface or cloth that is dirty abd having to rewash my hands again. This ritual can occur several times in a row, for instance I just got out of a ritual were I had to wash and pet my cats 6 times in a row and my hands hurt from all the washing.

I made a character and this sotry for star wars (i made this story for my English finals, i had a month to make it and got an A on it), the characters name is Saya Eban and is a character I have been thinking of for over a decade now (im not in my 2nd decade so since i was super young). Saya at this time is 13-14 years old and was given inspiration by almost all the other jedi and also star killer. He is human and with reliance on the force he can live up to 1000 years with hi peak being between 35, 40 ish to around 800 years of age. In terms of prime power level and potential, in my canon he is 3rd most powerful character just underneath luke and anikan Skywalkers, but could contend with them at some points. Little background: he was a prodigy in school before he became a padawan, he always had an intrest in a character named Ahsoka Tano but never became more than friends because of the Jedi teachings. He was a fast learning youngling and became a padawan earlier than most other younglings, becaming a padawan at the age of 11 - 12. He was in the first battle of Genesis but his troop transport ship was blasted out of the air, landing behind enemy lines leaving him the sole surviver, and scarring him, making him want to never see uneeded bloodshed ever again. He met Count Dooku before he had met Obi-Wan and Anikan on geonosis, he locked blades with him once... once, before he was thrown aside like a house fly, not worth his time, he was out until the retreat of the battle was initiated. This gave him night terrors and nightmares, after this day he could never sleep more than an hour, if that, before he woke up feeling the dark side creeping in. So he had learned to use sleep meditation. Sleep meditation allowed him to accelerate his trainings and connect greater to the force, he had unlocked 1/3 of his life now, the force helping his cells heal his body while he sat and meditated.
This story is of how he lived through one of the bloodiest battles and worst losses of the Republic, the battle of Sarrish, and of how he had obtained his later main star ship, a Kom'rk Mark 1 class star fightetransport, aka the Puro (i made this story before I have watched the 3rd season of the Mandalorian, as of right now i still haven't so Idk if thats in season 3 or not).
There is about 11,340 words in the story, and I don't 100% know of what I should make him look like so have your imaginations run wild.
Ok here we go:
Tales of Saya Eban's Puro
Chapter 1

 The battle of Sarrish was one of the worst battles of the Clone Wars, it was a great devastating loss to the Republic and the Jedi, and I was in the middle of it all. Before the battle I was doing some touch-ups on my A-wing Fighter. I had managed to get my hands on a hyperdrive that would fit in my small fighter, although being able to enter hyperspace without an external hyperdrive wing is very convenient, fast, and easy, it does slow my fighter and hinder some mobility, but not an uncontrollable amount of loss. Little did I know it'd save my life later that week. After I had finished my work, gotten it restocked for my next battle, I was called to the Jedi command center for a briefing by Master Yoda, saying it was an urgent mission and I was needed now, with his backwards way of speaking annoying me slightly. In a flash, I had gathered my battle ready loadout and headed off to the command center. When I entered the command center with the center planning table showing starships from both Confederate and Republic sides, One chasing another. I look and see Masters Yoda and Windu and a holoprojected Obi-Wan Kenobi surrounding the Table, with deeply serious thoughts in their eyes, fingers on their concentrating chins. When I swiftly strolled in, I was greeted with Master Windu's cheerful, but serious voice: "Ah, Padawan Eban, good you're here, come quick, we must act with persistence if we want to gain an upper hand in this war." "Master Windu, good to see you, you too Master Yoda, Master Kenobi, what's the situation?" Master Obi-Wan states, "We are currently chasing Separatist forces to the planet Sarrish and we will need some back up, could you bring your part of the 104th battalion right away, we have heavy casualties and they're going to have reinforcements when they reach the planet." "Is there not anyone closer than me, it may take a few days for me to get there, yall mabe finished by the time I get there!" I said with hope in my eyes. "I'm afraid that you're the only one that is available with the most minimal time of arrival, you'll have to be quick though, it will be anytime now they will reach the planet and have reinforcements. we need this win, it will be a great victory for the Republic if we are able to capture the planet." Stated Obi-Wan with certainty. "All other generals are on missions right as we speak, you are the only one that can provide back up at this current time." Master Windu added "Closer to Knight after this mission you will be, great padawan you are, your great swift improvements, Master Plo is pleased with, believe in you I do." Master Yoda said with a jolly old-man voice. "Now go, there's not much time to waste, gather your men and go help Obi-Wan!" Rushedly said by Master Windu. "With determination in my voice, I yell "Yes Masters, right away!" And like a flash, I was gone. As I'm running off, I catch a glimpse of a green swoosh and the sound of a bolt deflection. I stumble to a stop and put my legs in reverse to give curiosity the wheel. When I peer in, I see Master Skywalker and Ahsoka, along with roughly 8 clone troopers all in a circle around Ahsoka and her one blade ignited. Master Skywalker had her eyes welded to her as he walked around the trooper. I could see Captain Rex standing and watching as well, although he seems to be the only one who spotted me poking in my head. He motioned his finger to his lips as to tell me to shush and not interfere, so I watched with anticipation. And after a lifetime stillness ending in a second after Master Skywalker yelled "START!" And stun doughnuts fire from the blasters of the troopers, sending a volley of blue twords Ahsoka from all directions. With great flexibility I pair with, she jumps into the air, spinning like skates on a skate rink in mid air deflecting all incoming plasmic projectiles landing with swift grace ready for more, And more came, she stands in the center blade moving almost faster than what my eyes could keep up with, until that one bolt punches her right in the back, knocking her to the ground, diminishing the blade back into the hilt. I spring into the room, speaking with worry in my voice when I squeak out "Ahsoka! Master Skywalker, what was that!?" 

"She was just training deflecting blaster fire, she's going to be outmatched a lot in this war, and clones are better than droids to practice with." Anakin said with pride that she was able to last little over a minute, thats improvement.
"Well I guess you're not completely wrong, but your going to give her a brain injury at this rate! Could you not go a bit easier on her?"
"She'll never learn if I go easy on her." Master Skywalker said with little arrogance in his voice.
"W- well, here, l-let me wake her then." I stuttered as I walked up to Rex holding Ahsoka like he's a pillow.
"Rex, do you mind if I-"
"Not at all General, here." Rex said as I sat next to him holding Ahsoka's top half of her body.

 As he caringly sets Ahsoka's rhythmically beating top half in my lap, head facing the heavens, I softly lay my hand over her forehead, close my eyes, and concentrate. A few suspenseful seconds later, I take my hand off and observe Ahsoka's hand softly glide to her now curling forehead, eyes fluttering open. 

With a smile I voiced"Wakey Wakey warrior princess, have a good nap?" Smirking the whole time.
"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes Nicksters." She groaned with fading pain.
"What are you doing here?" She leisurely grumbled as she started to lie propped up by her desirable, fluorescent orange arms made of flexible muscle.
"I was walking by, and saw a 'damsel in distress', I HAD to come and 'save the day'." I joked, smirking the whole time, annoying her little bit more.
"You know I have been dying to use my force heal on you since I had learned it. I bet you don't even feel bad at all right now hm?" I said leaning in
Ahsoka starts to stand as to get a feel for her own body.
"You're right, I feel better than I did before, not bad for someone named Nicks." Ahsoka said smirking right back at me.
"Oh come on, that was one time, that was even before we became patiwans!" I said with little dramatics in my vocal verberations.
"Ok Master, I'm ready to try again." Ahsoka said to Master Skywalker
"Not now Ahsoka, we have a mission from the Jedi council we have to attend to while Obi-Wan is on his own mission." Anikan said to Ahsoka, elongating his 'not' like he usually does
"I'm actually about to go give help to Obi-Wan right now… WHICH I NEED TO GET PREPARED FOR NOW!! Karabast, got to go! See yah Ahsoka, Master, Rex." And like a ship entering hyperspace, I was gone.
Chapter 2

 After 2 boring days traveling in hyperspace, me and my 5 Veneter class Cruisers are nearing our destination, this would make 12 Cruisers for the Republic side. A new commander CT'-4112 or Zerek, debriefs on the battle situation. As I had sensed, Obi-Wan was outmatched seeing as backup was on planet Sarrish for the fleeing Separatist ships, now it's 11 Munificent class Cruisers and 2 command stations blockading the planet. Kenobi was starting to be pushed back, relying on our Cruisers longer ranged cannons to hope the Sepies didn't get too close. Our Cruisers have longer ranged main canons and toms of fighter room, while the Sepies Cruisers have more fire power at closer ranges with more fighters than our Vendor class Cruisers, at closer ranges, the Sepies would completely destroy a Venetor class Cruiser, but we have strategies and will power. 

"Glad to see a friendly face Saya." Kenobi said exhaustingly.
"Well, it looked like you needed help. You know I need to be the one to save everyone. I'll move into position to fortify our defenses to push the Sepies back and for us to make a plan. What is your fleet's condition?"
"We have 2 Venetors heavily damaged and the rest either have mild to no damage. And we have lost half our fighters as of now." Urgently said by Kenobi.
"Ok, I'm sending men and supplies to you right now, let me take the front so I can take the damage if they send another attack." I calmly said to Kenobi.
"Men battle positions and set all power to front cannons and shields. Venators get into pincer position and get ready for an attack. Fighters get ready to launch." I commanded to all my Cruisers
"Master, if you could, could you add in your undamaged Venetors? " I wandered and directed with much mastery, I even made Obi-Wan himself visually impressed considering my inexperienced mind in life, and especially war. I even managed to make him smile.
"Getting in position now." Obi-Wan stated, still smiling.
"Understood, While you get everything fixed, I'll see if I can weaken their defenses, it seems as if they're in attack positions so we gotta be ready for anything." I said in deep thought.
"Ok, 10 to 13, I like those odds, makes it even, more so for the Sepies." I grinned.
"Now Saya, remember this is still a battle, don't be too cocky, you're starting to remind me of Anakin." Obi-Wan said with conviction.
"Yes Master, sorry about that." I answered to Obi-Wan, pulling back a little.

 Just then, many starfighters come from the enemy Cruisers, hundreds of them lightning fast, closing distance fast. 

"All right men, time for some fun. Obi-Wan, if you want to take command of my control center, I'll lead this fight." I said before Obi-Wan could respond.
"Ok- but Saya! Blast, maybe he's too much like Anikan." Obi-Wan said defeatedly.
As I get into the hangar I yell "Alright Wolfpack, let's get goin!" Then I hop into my modified Jedi A-wing.
We rush out from the center roof door along the Cruiser with my squadron aka The Wolfpack, with me leading my 23 fighters into battle and many more friendly's following from the hangars.
"Ok Wolfpack, let's make a break for them Cruisers, get as many of them gone as possible. 411 you ready?" I asked R2-411. R2-411 bleeps with readiness.
"Ok, time to blow them out of the sky, remember, stay in formation" I commanded.
"Yes sir!" The Clones bellowed.

 Then we hit the swarm with a mighty thundering sound of lasers flying through the emptiness of space seeing one after one of enemy fighter droids dropping all over the place. Me and my Wolfpack fly through all the 2 winged Vulture droids that look like each wing was sideways and has 2 prongs each side for wings. They were way more quick and maneuverable than us, but we had a duty to win, and we won't lose today. It's like a firework show, but you're dodging all the fireworks, and they're aiming right at you. While we are defending the Venator Cruisers, they're mostly firing at the Sepies Cruisers, slowly dwindling their energy shields down. 

"Boys, I have a plan, but I'll need yall to get back to the Cruisers." I urged
"Obi-Wan, how's the 2 heavily damaged Cruisers? We've been out for a long while. They should be good by now right?" I questioned Master Kenobi.
"They're about to come back into the fight, but one of our Cruisers is at a quarter shield, few good hits or bombing runs and it's gone, what's your plan Saya?" Obi-Wan said, perplexed.
"Just give me an opening to the left Separatist control center, that's all I need to get on that ship." I stated with confidence.
"I'll try my best, but don't be stupid Saya, we can't afford to lose you."
"Yeah yeah I know, just get me an opening please Master!" I begged.

 After the words fleeted from my mouth, all the Cruisers fired a hole through the droid fleet with friendly fighters also making way for me to get through. I blast the afterburners straight through the enemy swarm that's been lesson by the commotion, just barely being hidden by smoke from a just destroyed fighter straight into the leftmost control ship hanger landing with an explosive entry. And immediately I jump out, igniting both, my straight emerald green saber in my left, and my yellow saber with a curved hilt similar to the Count's hilt himself in my right. I'll face him again one day, it's inevitable, like me. I land and immediately cut a group of B1 battle droids heads off with my yellow saber facing out, giving me more reach, but as I start to take fire from the army that quickly form from my landing, I swiftly doge left to right almost able to doge the sight of a human eye. Left, pop goes the heads of 3, right, pop goes 5, jump through the air on an almost straight path through the thick of the army, spinning with a light show if one were to be an onlooker at this chaotic organization of flying red plasmic bolts going to a mix of yellow and green, then proceeding to fly straight back at the shooter with twice the velocity. I land on my feet with a thunderous "BOOM" with what seems like an explosion that incinerates half of the whole hanger with an electric yellow glow seeming like yellow lighting exploded from the epicenter of the explosion. When the smoke cleared, it seemed that everything within a 5 meter radius was completely incinerated, and everything within 40 meter radius was heavily damaged, and any technology within eye shot was either scrape or short-circuiting, but all B1 battle droids and super battle droids were out. 

I sighed with relief with little heavy breathing when I looked around me, but with no time to rest, 6 Vulture droid fighters came through the hanger's magnetic shield door, transforming to walk on its pronged wings like they were legs. They scanned me and started raining a flurry of red down onto me, but with my lightning fast reflexes, I raised my sabers to block the incoming hellfire from all six fighter's. Then came the flurry being deflected in any direction possible, and I could just barely see the 6 droids started to surround me by going behind my back, but I ain't done yet. As I'm blocking, jumping, spinning, twisting on a micrometer, I stomp with a mighty force, launching through the air, slowly spinning straight for a Vulture that has became the prey. Bolts whizzing by me, inches, centimeters near my skin, singeing my arm hairs to their roots. I land on top of the droid with a thunderous boom crunching where my foot had landed, driving my sabers straight through the brain of the story high droid, with a counterclockwise rotation around my back, dragging my sabers across the metal of the droid, I leap off the droid landing with the feathers and fly forward with a flashing dash slicing through 2 other droids legs, leaving gravity do its magical job. 3 down, 3 to go, but with little time left. I launch forward running on hairs dipping and dodging blots, I leap up slicing through one leg of a droid and pushing off of its gravity taken hull, coming down on another droid's leg, cutting with ease. I land like a leaf in the autumn skies, and launch with a swift leap, flying my yellow saber straight down the middle of the 6th and final droid with no time to spare.

 I land with caution, ready to fend off another foe, but none came at that second, so I took the opportunity and ran with it straight to where the main reactors should lie. I swiftly sprint with force leaps through the air to get to the reactor, the ship is 270th of a circle with a ball where the command center is, the middle is the only connected between the back of the ball and the inner back of the circle, that's where the reactor is, im at the left most side, may take me a minute to reach it, but I can get there without being seen. My plan was to quickly fix and rewrite a Vulture droid's code to go with my command, not going to be the best work but it will work, hopefully. I had to act fast because I knew there were going to be hundreds more droids to come to see the commotion, I'd say within the minute. The codes used on the droids are not the best, because of mass production, so It was an easy fix, I just needed it to fly a small bit. It comes back to life with a putt to its movement, I directed it to start flying while I'm on its back, putting the whole time with smoke, just what I needed. I start to move forward as fast as possible. As we get around the hundreds of battle droids below, I'm starting to speed up, and as I see the reactor room, I could hear B1's yell " HEY! STOP! YOUR GOING TO FAST" in their robotic voice. Before I hit the Shield covering the reactor room, I jump off to the left where the blast door is for the room. With the distraction of the droid smashing into the shield, I use this time to slowly cut through the blast doors with both sabers starting at the bottom of the door, going up and around to form a circle I can fit through. I was through within a Minute, unnoticed, or so I was led to believe. When I get into the reactor room, I throw explosives all over the reactors, with a detonation in T minus 1 minute. I fly out of the room, calling for 411 to bring my ship as fast as possible, 55. Running across the hanger, I'm spotted by the hundreds of battle droids, which immediately start firing right as they see me 50. The explosion of the fighter droid caused a chain to nearby explosive barrels, exploding more Vulture droids causing tons of smoke and fires to spread around the hangar area, 45. As I'm running, my yellow saber is blocking multiple bolts flying at me while I'm jumping, spinning, performing acrobatic movements while being shot by hundreds of droids, from B1's, to super's, to droideka's, all firing at me, adding to the smoke, 35. Running with young blood in my veins, I perform 1, 2, 3 long jumps and leap onto the side of a slanted destroyed Vulture droid, 30. I jump up, reaching for the cloudy sky just as 411 swoops in predictively shoving my hand into the side of the sharp A-wing hull, 25. I grab the side of the hull and pull myself up into the cockpit, grabbing the controls, 20. I spin to the exit with roughly 67° of the hanger I need to shoot out of, I fire the afterburners using the circumference of the circle and my fighters movment to my advantage, 15. Pushing forward, I am drifting an A-wing around the hangar of a Separatist capital ship skimming the walls centimeters away from an explosive fiery death, 10. I barely screamed out of the hanger, to be able to see a view of the capital ship flying stright for the other Sepie capital ship, 5. Im still firing the afterburners to try and attempt to get a safe distance away from the soon to be collision sight, 4. I let 411 take the control's, 3. I turn my head to look back, 2. I see the collision of the 2 270° hangers, 1. I watch as i get the view of a star being formed right infront of my eyes, and seeing many Sepie Cruisers being absolutely engulfed by the flames, and a blast wave decimating the Vulture droids… blast wave…. BLAST WAVE! Just then I'm thrown far, along with the debri. I manged to gain control of the craft and start performing advanced monuvers to avoid being hit by debrie that will demolishe me and my tiny fighter. 

"Saya, can you hear me? Saya?" Master Obi-Wan Kenobi pleaded.
"Yeah, yeah master, I'm good, I'm fine. Woo…!" I said with a sigh of relief.
Chapter 3

 The explosion had decimated the Separatist forces leaving 4 Cruisers sustaining heavy or mild damages, but with an opening, Obi-Wan and I travel to the ground along with Captain Cody to go for a large ground assault. Master Obi-Wan's plan was to drop in and gather our troops and split them between Obi-Wan and commander Cody. We were west, they were east. The Separatists had the high ground seeing as they had a cliff to their advantage. Flying in on gunships, we were taking heavy fire from their anti aircraft cannons. Commander Cody and I are debriefing the squad on the way to the rally point, seeing gunships after gunship falling to the rocky ground in a fiery explosive ball of red hot metal, and screams, with no plants in sight, just rocks, gunships, and red streaks flying by. Explosions booming right next to us with our doors right open. We have been ordered and ordering troops to stay far away from the mountain top gun fortifying the mountain top of the cliff, leaving that gun for the gunships and the best of the clone troopers, or ARC (Advanced Recon Commandos) troopers to deal with that later, seeing as a ground assault is too dangerous for us. As some of the clones have said, it's not an easy mission, but hops are high. 

"30 seconds until landing." A clone trooper yelled to me and Cody.
Cody starts with "All right, listen up! Maintain squad formations, 'A' squad, You're on me-" ZZZZZEEEROW- BOOOM!
"Where hit!" I yell "Everyone! Hold on!"
Before we hit the ground I leap out of the gunship with a backwards somersault, force pulling all the troops out of the burning fireball heading for the ground, grabbing all of the men, including the 2 pilots at the front, breaking through the windows. I land like rain from the sky, catching the troops I just pulled out with my powers and have them roughly land on the fluffy rocks next to our now downed gunship, no casualties yet. I rush over to take cover under our gunship on its left side behind enemy lines. I sit and meditate as they come up with a plan.
"What's the status lieutenant?" Cody asked
"5 injured thanks to General Saya, but that's not that bad news… Does that Rock look familiar?" The lieutenant asked.
"Yea, the mountain, right where we're not supposed to be." Said Cody
"General Kenobi ordered us not to try taking this section from the ground." The lieutenant regenerated back again with what was already established.
"That's what he said…but what would the general do if he were here?" Cody rhetorically asked.
"Saya sir, what do you think?" A trooper asked me somewhat desperately.
"I think Cody should take this one, I've got your back Cody." I answered with my legs crossed, eyes closed, slightly levitating over the rocks.
"Eight-Eight-Six-Seven through Eight-Eight-Six-Nine and Saya, fix your grapples and come with me. Everybody, prepare for covering fire." Cody ordered.
I get up, eyes still shut, ready to block anything coming our way.
"NOW!" Cody yells, sprinting across what is our no-man's-land
I open my eyes, ignite my Sabers, Green in left, yellow in right, and dash towards the now incoming blaster fire. I sense it, left side, block, right side, deflect, one for Cody, deflected. We get to some stalagmites at the bottom of the mountain, sustaining heavy fire, I pose as a distraction for all the fire, deflecting as many blots as I can back at the metal men. One troop trips and falls, pow, bolt straight through the head. Cody and the men shoot the grappling hooks up towards the top of the mountain and start climbing. I jump from my spot reigniting my sabers, driving them through the mountain side, helping me grab hold with my feet. And when I look up, I see a grapple fall behind me. I tried to grab the rope but I was too late. When I managed to obtain it, he had already hit the ground. Another tragedy, one that never had to happen, life being wasted away. I look up, a droid stairs emotionlessly down into my emotion filled eyes. A blue bolt shoots past me, impacting the droid's head, sending the body backwards.
Cody and the other clone rises from the cliff side as I leap up from the side, landing in front of the clones and immediately start deflecting with my 2 sabers having nothing pass. Cody takes this opportunity to run around my defense and attacks the droids head on, bashing one droid with the butt of his rifle and swinging his rifle at another, destroying both of them. The droid manning the anti aircraft gun turns and aims at Cody. Instinctively I jump in front of the cannon as it fires, I deflect the large bolt away with my right yellow saber, knocking my body to the right, making me stumble. But with the motion throwing me to the right, I use the momentum to throw my green saber with my left hand, impaling the droid in the metal chest. Cody then hops onto the turret, points the gun at the droids firing at our men, and lets loose, destroying all in its reticle.
"Thanks General, I owe you one, ill getcha next time." Cody said slowly getting off the turret.
"You're alright my friend, just pay it forward, let's go see how Obi-Wan did." I slightly worried, staring off to the north.

 We group up at the randevu, where we have set base camp on the planet in a small raven a bit away from where we captured the cliff with some makeshift scouting towers dotted around our position. Obi-Wan had more resistance than what he had anticipated, he was a little banged up, but he was fine in the end. This was a huge victory seeing as we have been able to set base on a planet that allows us to get resources through this hyperspace route and onto parts of the army past this point. Before, General Grievous snipped our route to where we couldn't get resources to our army on the other side from Coruscant. 

Chapter 4

 12 hours later, we have rested and have managed to build up a good base incase of a surprise attack. We are still fighting a few fronts of Separatist holdouts with a fortress a few klicks west, or about 4 miles west. 

I sit in my tent meditating, reflecting back on the weeks events, and what Ahsoka was doing back at the temple, training hard. I recite what I did with an almost overwhelming amount of blaster fire attempting to fly into me, how I was just mostly averting the blots away from me and not in a direction that would benefit me most.
'RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE'

 The ground started to shake out of nowhere, breaking my peace. I rush out of my tent, only to be met with a face full of B2 battle droid. I jump back over my tent flipping onto my feet as I see my tent being lit into flames from heavy bolt fire flying at me. Igniting both my sabers, I deflect the incoming fire away from me up into the sky as much as I physically could. I took a glance around, it was becoming more sunlit as we fought. It was a slaughter, clones dying left and right, Kenobi was on the Command ship getting patched, so it was just me, and the clones down here, being manicured. With a swift right step, I change lightsaber form, combining my form 3, (defensive form blocking anything coming way, and either making, or waiting for an opening to strike) with a combination of form 2 (saber to saber form, putting least amount or saber movement and preferring precise efficient movements) and form 4 (saber from using the force to enhance physical abilities, and heavily utilizing fast acrobatic movements to move around and disorient the opponents, using wide sweeping saber movements to block and hit targets) I use the power if the many bolts to propel my body onto my right leg, crouching down and taking a huge lead in to the air. Looking around like it is moving in stop motion, I see thousands of droids around, completely outnumbering my men. Glancing down where I had jumped from, there seems to be a super battle droid rising from the ground, looking as if it has been there for at least a few days. Time seems to start like normal again, immediately I have to block bolts coming for my body, twisting, turning, deflecting every. single. bolt. right to another droid. I can't have any more unneeded deaths in my hands. I land with an impactful explosion of yellow lighting, rendering half of the electronics on the field obsolete. Shots fire over the wall, exploding near me. 

"Everyone, Retreat!" I yelled into the comms.
I ran towards the lieutenant that I had survived the crash with, he was running for a troop transport.
"Get to the ships, return to the Venators! Get Kenobi and relay what has happened!" Urgency blowing through my voice.

 I push him into the ship as it takes off. As it's doing so, I force push it away from the field as to be in less danger of being shot down. But rockets fly through the air, I reach through the force and grab onto the hurdling death traps, I grab 1, 2, crash them into one another, 3, grab, 4, grab, 5, miss. ERRROW… BOOOM! With a hopeless explosion, the ship bursts into an explosive ball of fire, right in front of my eyes, out of my grasp. Shots fly past my head from behind me, I ignite my sunlit yellow saber to block incoming bolts. No men, only metal remains, and it wants me dead. I dash for my ship on the other side of the airstrip, luckily barely touched from this horrible surprise party that invited everyone I very much dislike. Hopping into my A-wing, I lift-off dogging left, right, up, down, roll left, roll right, barely being passed by on all sides by cannon fire. When I reach the point past the clouds, there's a whole war above. Separatist forces have surprised Kenobi with an overwhelming number of ships, putting our war torn 12 Venators against 16 Munificent class Cruisers. We were greatly out matched. But the time I was in space we had lost 3 Vectors compared to there 1 lost. Droids noticed me coming from the planet and started to verge onto my position. 

"Obi-Wan! You there? Can you hear me?" I yelled, pulling evasive maneuvers.
"Saya, is that you?" Kenobi asked.
"Yes, we got surprised on the ground, seems the same happened here." I rushingly said.
"Yes, they came out of nowh-" Kenobi is cut off by a blaring siren from my cockpit.
"Wait, my ship is damaged, it's starting up my hyperdrive, 411 can you fix it?" I said dipping left and right while trying to stop the hyperdrive activation.
With a few bleeps of fear, I understand what's happening.
"When I was thrown from the capital ship explosive wave, I must have been hit near the hyperdrive, and explosions from my escape, along with the maneuvers I have been pulling, it may have caused damage that is registering a hyperdrive activation. Master Obi-Wan, I don't know, I-I don't know what to do!" I claimed with fear in my eyes.
"Can you deactivate the hyperdrive at all 411?" Kenobi asked
411 bleeps with a sad toon.
"Blast, Saya, does it say where you're going?"
"N- No, my council just says ERROR." I stated, now with much fear in my voice.

 I managed to steer my craft into the position of the hyperspace lane. 

"Tell Ahsoka good bye if I don't-" I get cut off when the the hyperdrive powered up woth a vvvvvvvvvvvVVVVERRRRRRR PEEOW, and just like that, me, my A-wing, and R2-411, are gone.
Chapter 5

 It's been days since the battle, mabe 2 or 3 days. Luckily I always keep many ration bars in my fighter to last me a good few days, along with my extra water and my ability to go into a deep meditative state, conserving food and water. Keeping me company is my meditation and 411. We have almost hit some unknown objects, could have been planets, asteroids, other ships, but we seem to be staying in hyperspace lanes luckily, or I would have been dead a long time ago. My class 2 hyperdrive could have taken me all over the galaxy by now, I could be heading towards Coruscant right now for all I know. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
My hyperdrive warning kicked on, showing that there is a massive gravity force in my path. The console flashed with big red dangerous letters "Exiting Hyperdrive" on the screen.
"YES! FINALLY!" I yelled with excitement.

 I watch through the glass to see a barren looking planet, and a similar looking moon, a moon I was heading to. I was moving fast, as I entered the moon's atmosphere, Im grabbing the controls, barely anything. My craft is red hot from the rate at which I'm coming in on. I'm grabbing the stick, pulling back as much as I can, as to try and save myself and 411 from a fiery death. I scraped by a big rocky mountain dealing more damage to my A-wing. 

"HOLD ON 411!"
"Come ooooon. Pull pull pullllll…. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!-" VERRROW BOOOOSH!!! The crash landing sounded like a bomb flying through the air, then landing on its target. I try to get from my seat just to find my strap and window will not open. Using my saber I cut off my seat strap and broke the window from the hinges and leaped out, taking 411 from the craft, swiftly landing on a tall mountainous rock. The craft seemed to have pushed through the land 50 meters from the initial impact spot. The area I was in seemed to be very rocky terrain with many rocky canyons and huge rocks that are almost mountainous. The sun was close to setting down for the night but was still a good hour away from sleeping.

 With the force by my side, I felt a very uneasy sensation telling me to stay out of sight. I duck down on the tall skinny rock taking 411 down with me. 411 confusingly bleeps when I do so. "Hey, I have a feeling right now, just keep quiet real quick, there's somebody coming. Trust me." Me and 411 peer over the edge looming over my crashed ship just as a group of 6 men in full armor covering their whole body fly in with jetpacks strapped to their backs, blasters in hand. As they land, they search around my wreckage, presumably looking for survivors. One seems to be ordering the others around, pointing at one to look in one direction, another a different direction, and scanning around for the unexpected visitor. I look down at my Wrist link, my distress signal wasn't sent, I guess that was damaged from entering the planet at such high speed with no deflector shields surrounding the ship like a protective blanket. 

"Blast, 411, what's your S.O.S signal situation, did it go through?" 411 beeps with a little drama like I should know it didn't go through.
"Well sorry for busting your rusty bolts you rowdy rancor, better to try than to just give up mister sassy pants. Maybe I should wipe your memory for a change, see how you like it."
"Now shush, don't want them to find us spying on them, won't look too good." I demand. "Now here, in case we get caught, I don't want them to know I'm a Jedi, so here, take my sabers, I'm not gonna need them anyways." I said shoving my lightsabers into 411's storage compartment and looking towards the crash again.

 Just then the suit of armor that had been commanding his squad bursts up into my view right on my face out of hyperspace blue. 

"Ah, found ya trespassers, you 2 are coming with me." Demanded the Mandalorian with a snickering sound in his voice as the others rise from the portal of the abyss from down below.

 It was a good thing my ropes where in the tent back on Sarrish, or this may have been an even worse situation, Mangalorians like them hate Jedi with a passion, and it's a good thing I always have a broken blaster in 411 for any cases where I need to blend in with a crowd or pose as a normal civilian; although, the ability to become a civilian at any point is great, I've had little need to do so much. I'm quite popular with the people for being one who tries to connect with the population as a fellow citizen. So I rarely stay in the temple for too long. I love being with the people and learning skills without the force, like being a mechanic, electrician, public speaker, security guard, an all around great person to talk with about anything. I'm quite known on all levels of Coruscant for being one of the most friendly Jedi to be around. Right now though, I need to focus on not being caught, at least That's what my gut is telling me. After they searched my character for any weapons and found the broken blaster that 411 had put in my holster where my lightsaber usually is, they were satisfied and pushed us into one of their big Kom'rk Mark 1 class Mandalorian starfightetransport ship. 

(Look in comments for 6th)

I know quitting your job as a cook usually simply comes with two weeks notice or a ragequit walkout, but for eleven months I worked at a new franchise that had such potential which was being squandered by the incompetence of upper management. I present the nearly 6000 word thesis I turned in on my last day. Locations and names have been changed to cartoon references. Brackets represent ambiguous information in place of specific details.
Krusty Krab Careers Jobs
Opening in [Month/Year], Krusty Krab (KK) Bikini Bottom is on its 4th kitchen manager in less than a year. Krusty Krab O-Town has recently let go its inaugural kitchen manager and sous chef. Almost no member of the Bikini Bottom opening management team remains employed by KK. There is a pattern developing where one must question both the choice of employee and the directive given to new franchises. These lingering issues I brought concerns about in the first weeks of opening but was disregarded at every turn despite my experience with festival traffic. As a result I decided this was not a place I wanted to advance, but with a good-enough paycheck I’d be a lowly grunt in the kitchen four days a week, at five days a week I would have quit or been fired over a public outburst long ago. If Krusty Krab alters course slightly while being true to the brand this could be a successful chain.
My unique employment history in brick and mortar restaurants, food trucks, pop up culinary concepts, trade shows/conventions, and the film industry make me an ideal candidate to be on the opening team for new KK locations. My outgoing nature and foresight are valuable assets. For example, on training week before opening when I was standing around idly without a task I took it upon myself to organize the disarray that was dry storage. Overhearing Krabs tell another manager where he wanted the cleaning products placed, I had a jumping off point and the organization I created nine months ago is still largely in place. Since returning from my vacation in early February I have made it my mission to keep the storage area organized because it was again starting to resemble a hoarder’s house rather than a commercial kitchen. This is now part of my weekly routines because every time I turn my back there is more product being placed haphazardly just anywhere with little regard. I also recently reorganized the walk-in cooler because of problematic stocking with items being placed on the same shelf or below raw proteins. I also simply put all the like products together such as cheeses or fruits that were scattered amongst several shelves. With recent overordering I cannot keep up with the organization of the walk in cooler. The pattern recognition of food types and even simple shapes appears to be lost on the Bikini Bottom crew. My daily reorganization of containers is proof of this. Most days I’ll take a few minutes to put all cylinders together, all cambros together in descending volume, all deep and shallow pans next to each other rather than intermixed. My decision to be a kitchen manager at age 19 from 2005 thru 2008 and rarely enter restaurant management since is very calculated.
With my prior knowledge of professional kitchens I was becoming Bikini Bottom’s resident nag to coworkers as I made note of health department violations on a daily basis. I stopped after being largely ignored for two weeks. My regular health department nags include; a battle with jackets and hats being placed only in the designated area (a designated area that did not exist until I created a place for personal items a in January by neatly organizing the dry storage area again), waiting until prepped items are cooled before a cover is placed on top, placement of raw seafood, open containers (very often sugar, flour, and pancake mix bags ripped open and left), and dirty dishes/containers placed back in rotation. The dirty dishes and containers in rotation with the clean ones are at an atrociously high number. I have given up on making the 4th fryer seafood allergy safe too. With the low volume of seafood allergy safe items Bikini Bottom should purchase smaller baskets to visually discourage cross contamination with the other fryers and baskets. My skills to organize the kitchen do not end with simply where to store products to meet minimal health department standards.
Half of the space in the Bikini Bottom kitchen is completely wasted on an ill-advised walkway to the dishpit. An intelligent design would place a second doorway directly to the dishpit connected to the bar or where the bathrooms reside. Numerous times during the opening week of KK Bikini Bottom I said, yelled, sang, and muttered that we have too many food items for the amount of space we have. Icus stated that there was more space than Bluffington. Is Bluffington intelligently designed? Because Bikini Bottom most certainly isn’t. So Bikini Bottom actually has less space even if there is more square footage. See the attached diagram for an intelligent design that could potentially house a menu of this size. Bikini Bottom forces a line design on this kitchen when an open concept is needed for this menu. It’s as if this floorplan was created by a person who had only ever seen one commercial kitchen previously and couldn’t think 4th dimensionally to understand the needs of the workers to smoothly serve customers.
There is not enough counter space for pizzas without getting off the line, the microwave is placed completely out of the way, the freezer’s curved design is a waste of potential counter space and a falling hazard for containers stored on top of it, the toaster is an overcomplicated and overexpensive piece of machinery that serves exactly one purpose when a flat top could be used to toast bread and other purposes like a quesadilla special, sautee was designed without an overhang for spices, the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter for seafood allergies, there are no Frialator fryers which I have worked with at every single kitchen job previously instead we got the cheap Vulcan model (is that logical), the cheap low boy in pantry that doesn’t drain excess water anywhere it’s just supposed to evaporate somehow but doesn’t, the grill and fryer should be placed next to each other (with a higher volume of crossover than other stations), the floors are flat instead on having a mild decline towards the drains (just look at the standing water residing behind the oven right now), in the dishpit the spraying area and the filled sinks are backwards of a logical dipshit, the ramp to the back door is on the wrong side, there is no refrigerated place downstairs to stage extra food for busy shifts (the beer cooler is once again used for such food items because of this massive oversight), the prep station is an afterthought and miniscule, the dishes on the line are difficult to grab for anyone under 5’11” and inaccessible for anyone under 5’6” (instead of putting them underneath tables that also give that desperately needed counterspace I spoke of), there is not enough space to store to-go containers or boats behind the line, expo is lacking a low boy for the numerous items that are supposed to be cold but are instead kept at room temperature all day long, no one in management thought about buying shelves until right before Bikini Bottom opened as a result the clean full sheets sat on the floor for days, we had only the exact amount of 1⁄6 pans for an absurd amount of time making it impossible to rotate and clean them when necessary (which is daily), we still struggle with 1/9 pan supply. And just when I thought I documented all the poor design choices possible I stumbled upon a person whose office holiday party was booked at KK Bikini Bottom. The deck space works just fine as a deck. It does not double well as a gathering space. The space is too long and narrow for parties, it promotes little splitoff groups rather than a coming together of a larger gathering. It may be advantageous to contact a social psychologist for help designing a private party space that promotes intermingling rather than enforcing small pockets to form. The reorganization of the physical kitchen isn’t all that screams for an overhaul.
There are six positions on the line at the Krusty Krab; expo, oven, grill, sautee, fryer, and pantry. But the pantry and fryer positions are forced together like a bad remix. Everyone who mainly works pantry deserves a $6 raise immediately because it is a station and a half. Both Icus and Krumm, while kitchen manager, kind of acknowledged the pantry is too big for one station without outright mentioning the lopsided distribution of work. I imagine in the only location where this works, Bluffington, a second person joins the pantry at noon because of the unreasonable amount of items one person is tasked with. Bikini Bottom only has one person in this position at all times, maybe modify it for one person? The excess of items on the pantry position largely resembles a position I would call “set-up” or “build” at a previous job that made sensible choices. This build position should have tostadas, tacos, butcher’s blocks, toast, salads, lettuce wrap set ups, and preparing plating for whichever station is most bogged down. I have absolutely lost my mind yelling about salads at least once a month, ranting that they do not belong on the fryer position because of how illogical it is that five salads are included on the mountain of other items the pantry has. I have always considered working in a kitchen a kind of dance, and the pantry station demands an unnecessarily convoluted dance to keep up with the demand. Without the salads, tostadas, and tacos the station is already the busiest. Do we really need to combine ballet and swing by including these extra awkward dance steps in this single station? For a kitchen designed this poorly I suppose it is. Again, see attached document for an intelligently designed kitchen that might be able to accommodate this menu. Unless Bikini Bottom is going to close for a month to fix the baffling floor plan design the menu is shouting to be reduced to 30-36 items.
The menu is too big. Krusty Krab is the jack of all foods, master of none. In general I believe individual locations should be allowed 18% omissions, and 18% unique items to this wildly unwieldy menu sitting around 50 food items including sides. The insistence on keeping menu items that don’t sell at Bikini Bottom because of Bluffington is mind boggling. Chicken tenders do not sell at Bikini Bottom. fried sushi does not sell at Bikini Bottom, not enough to justify their place on the line. I don’t care how well these items work in Bluffinton. They. Do. Not. Work. At. Bikini. Bottom. If the KK location in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean sells an incredible amount of live krill does that mean Bikini Bottom and O-Town must sell live krill too? Take the fried sushi off the menu. I had a complete meltdown about this during a Dimmadome service and my valid point was met with indifference. Replace the kid’s tenders with a kid’s fish sticks. We already have the tilapia fish sticks on the line for tacos. Or make the kid’s fish sticks cod. We cut cod to order for fish tacos in spite of health code violations because it is too rare of an order to make beforehand. Saffron in mashed potatoes? If you must. Why are green tomatoes only on the menu during lunch? Bikini Bottom throws away a sizable amount of spoiled green tomatoes each week. Have green tomatoes on the menu all day long or don’t have them at all. The smoked salmon could go on salads or a special taco to justify its place on the line. The corn pico’s place on the line is unjustified. It only goes on one item, tostadas, which are not particularly popular. If we had a taco salad we could throw the corn pico on there. We also have unreasonable waste from unusable taco shells, smash up those imperfect taco shells and throw them on said taco salad. But before we add salads, let's get rid of the pear and kale salads. The pears' position on the line are unjustified, if we threw them on a taco variation maybe their place on the Bikini Bottom line could be argued but for now they only go on a salad that isn’t particularly popular. The kale salad is an issue of space for a 4th green for salads is too much. The krusty salad is my most hated house salad of all time. And it comes down to the toast with goat cheese. This ancillary step of spreading goat cheese on a cracker is an unnecessary step for an overly complicated dance and should be part of the expo dance if expo wasn’t a shoddily designed afterthought lacking a low boy.
There are a plethora of squeeze bottles on the pantry station that have no place on the overloaded station. They belong to an expo station with a low boy to keep them cold. Pantry has an overwhelming ten squeeze bottles: chipotle crema, sweet chili vinaigrette, buffalo, korean bbq, ranch, caesar, wine vinaigrette, lemon vinaigrette, honey mustard, and lemon aioli. Only the first four are justified on an intelligently designed fryer section, the second four belong on the build station, the last two have no place anywhere but expo. With this extra space sautee could keep their bottles and two purees cold in the fryer's lowboy instead of leaving them at room temperature all day inviting a pathogen party. This theorized intelligently designed expo would have room to keep these four squeeze bottles and a double of every sauce chilled to pour them into ramekins, a move that is highly common in the expo dance. The fact that expo doesn’t have a double of all squeeze bottles is foolish. Expo has to bother an overloaded station to pour these side sauces instead.
How many gallons of basil aioli has Bikini Bottom thrown away in 11 months? Four aiolis in general is way too many and most go on a single item; basil aioli on the incredibly unpopular veggie burger, lemon aioli for calamari, sweet chili aioli for the BLT that is only served half of the day, and garlic aioli actually goes on two items…I believe. What a colossal waste of precious little space, lose two aiolis and then you can sing the logical song with me. Perhaps we can put garlic aioli and sweet chili vinaigrette on the BLT separately and accomplish the exact same thing the sweet chili aioli does. The wings too have unneeded complications. Having worked at a sports bar specializing in wings for the better part of a decade I find KK’s plating of wings to be overly pretentious. The carrots, celery, and blue cheese have lost function. Heffer Wolf always said no one eats the carrot/celery julienne with blue cheese. It’s a complete waste of all the ingredients because you’ve gone too far with the presentation. Wings aren’t fancy. Wings are supposed to have a small pool of sauce and be sloppy. It’s like a sloppy joe that’s not sloppy, an unsloppy joe is a failure to sloppy joes just as the KK presentation of wings is a disparagement to the dish. Ever since training week back in 2022 I have used a scale to give Bikini Bottom a passing or failing grade.
Chokey Chicken to Chum Bucket is the scale I use to judge efficiency and sanity at Bikini Bottom. Both establishments are upscale casual dining experiences in Capitol City in the same vein as KK. Chokey had high employee retention and relatively smooth openings for new locations. Chum Bucket’s employee turnover was high and every location opening was chaotic. Which one sounds closer to KK? Chokey Chicken was filled with chefs I respect including Chef Ren Hoek who remains a close friend to this day. Ren lost his lifelong passion for kitchen work after working management at Chum Bucket. He’s actually seeking work in Bikini Bottom. Call him up at [phone number], but KK will give him Nam’ flashbacks of why he chose driving for a living rather than cooking for five years. The pair of us together helming Bikini Bottom with the ability to omit and create 18% of the overloaded menu can bring success to this franchise. We have worked well numerous times in the past on various concepts in the past including creating The Attack of the Pickled Tomatoes Burger for [Promotional live performance of a TV show] at the Capitol City Theater. We served 100 people in 60 at the [sitcom filming] lunch. That’s physically impossible but somehow we did it quite a few times.
A fun anecdote about Ren Hoek’s KK experience from the soft launch; on training week numerous times I brought concerns about being seafood allergy safe that were dismissed. As mentioned earlier the pantry station lacks the counter space to have two containers of flour and two containers of batter, one each of which seafood never touches. Before the soft launch Chef Stimpy from Bluffington insisted all customers just kind of know everything is prone to be seafood contaminated. Well, chef Ren was a customer that night and this absolutely was not communicated to customers. He claimed to have a slight seafood allergy and was not informed of what the crab soup was. In reality he does not have a seafood allergy. I didn’t discuss the seafood issue with Ren, separately we noticed egregious violations of food safety standards and we each responded in our own way. The soft launch service was so awful that night Chef Ren walked out of a free meal to pay for some ramen, never to return to Bikini Bottom. I attribute this oversight, and many of Bikini Bottom’s (and probably O-Town’s) problems to hubris over the Bluffington location.
Chef Chokey would also be hesitant to join the KK team. It will cost a finder’s fee just for me to reveal Chef Chokey’s name. Chef Chokey was a lead in the rapid expansion of Chokey Chicken restaurants. He opened numerous restaurants and was big on the philosophy that each restaurant must have its own personality in order to fit the unique local culture and the variety of working spaces. This is in direct conflict with the KK way that everything must be exactly like the Bluffington location no matter what. There was only one Chokey Chicken location that had the full menu, Chokey Springfield. Chokey Springfield had a large space which was intelligently designed to accommodate such a large menu. The KK menu is all over the place, closing in on 50 menu items which comes up as a failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale. This is not the only area KK comes up as a major failure on the Chokey Chicken/Chum Bucket scale.
Has anyone in this company ever worked festival traffic before? Does anyone have the experience of working next to a major venue with 8000 seats before this one? The way Bikini Bottom handles Dimmadome services it certainly appears that the decision-makers fall on the wrong side of the Dunning-Kruger effect. Having all 50 items available during such massive traffic is completely asinine. An unwillingness to serve a partial menu is hindering the Bikini Bottom kitchen staff. I have worked festival traffic before, and Dimmadome events bring in festival traffic. I’ve worked inside a festival whose line never ended but every customer got their order in 5 minutes or less because the line kept flowing with only four items on the menu as that’s what was warranted at the B-Sharps Music Festival. I refuse to be set up for failure the way Bikini Bottom sets up Dimmadome services for failure. The entire week of concerts in [summer] 2022 I was set up for failure every day (it was after this I modified my availability to keep my sanity and my paycheck). When I brought my concerns about running efficiently during Dimmadome services I was labeled a B-worker for the first time in my employment history by Icus and Krabs. It is that moment which I was either going to holler at them both for being 2-dimensional thinkers who were obviously unqualified for the positions they accepted in this company, or just put my head down. If Bikini Bottom has a successful concert day service, hail your team because they snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. They swam with concrete shoes. I often wonder how many customers had bad experiences and never returned after concert days. A Dimmadome service should have no more than 25 items and have one or two specials to divert traffic towards an area the kitchen can keep moving. An Open Cup Open Plate (OCOP) special for foot traffic is absolutely needed. When I suggested OCOP special, Heffer was intrigued by this idea and immediately named burgers as the special to keep foot traffic flowing. Smithers wouldn’t hear this idea, babbling on about what’s advertised instead of hearing out a sound idea. This prattle despite radio commercials having inaccurate hours and social media promoting Bikini Bottom’s steak tacos to this day. I always found Smithers to be a better fit as a middle management office pencil pusher than as a hands-on restaurant manager. Overall I find KK managers are selected to be automatons not to question their orders rather than critical thinkers who could take the restaurant to the next level. During brunch service is another period of time that must be modified to lessen the heft of items. Having a full menu that barely works plus brunch is so deep into Chum Bucket territory, in my opinion we now have to use the Tropic Thunder scale of full retard to describe a 60-plus-item brunch. Chef Ren hired back a Chum Bucket cook who had a mental breakdown and stormed out during brunch (plus full menu) service because Ren knew the employee was justified and upper management was completely unreasonable in their brunch requests. It’s not just questionable decisions that hinder KK staff but improper equipment as well.
This is the first restaurant I have worked at which uses a touch screen on the line rather than tickets. From day one I found this to be technology for technology’s sake inferior to tickets. Chef Ren forced a new Chum Bucket location to rip out touch screens from the line and bring in ticket printers because of the higher efficiency. The touch screen is a great idea for expo, not the entire line. My biggest gripe is that each station does not get all the information. Early on I was regularly yelled at for not staggering my items, well I can’t see the rest of the order; a problem I have never had with a ticket system. Touchscreen software is also much more prone to errors and glitches. When I reported an error during a heavy service Icus and Krabs blamed my skills on the line without looking into the malfunctioning screen further. It was glitchy for weeks before the two finally investigated and corrected the issue I brought to their attention long before. Those two gave me an immense amount of ammunition to dislike them in the opening weeks until I stopped caring. The issue I had with being unable to scroll beyond the bottom of a completely filled screen has returned and is still there as of [my last day]. There are also important details that get buried. A frequent meltdown I have is that sauce on side requests and other important modifications are not capitalized or in red to catch the eye as they have been at jobs with tickets. These details get lost on Bikini Bottom’s touchscreens. A sauce on side salad made by me will be wrong 50% of the time because of the instructions being camouflaged in a word salad. This goes for coleslaw on the side and drizzle on the side too. Drizzle in general I dislike because of the pretentiousness, but whatever, drizzle it on top rather than putting it in a ramekin if you must. There are numerous places where Bikini Bottom overcomplicates matters for reasons I cannot ascertain.
Why is there such a large variety of plates? Why do we have a medium circular plate for salads and a large bowl for salads with protein? This just confuses the simplest of matters. I was told this is done because of the high price hike with protein, a larger presentation was desired. But that price hike is the price of protein in 2023. Bikini Bottom should put all salads in the large bowls and use all the circular salad plates in a skeet shooting promotion. I understand why we have both a circular platter plate and a pizza plate but in my restaurant the circular platter plates must go...or maybe the large platter plate instead. Is the large platter used for anything besides fish and chips? That extra space on fish and chips plates are only used for side sauces which can easily be delivered to customers on small circular plates. What is the medium oval plate doing that the medium rectangular plate isn’t? And vice versa. Why do they both exist when they are approximately the same size? Let me write an internet commercial where we break a lot of plates so we can get some logical use out of the superfluous plates. I don’t care which one is destroyed, the ovals or the rectangles but one of them is an unnecessary redundancy in excess done again. Speaking of commercials, the unimaginative radio advertisements for Bikini Bottom are doing little to lure new customers to the restaurant.
The three radio spots I have heard on KBBL all sound like they were produced by a marketing 101 student who wasn’t a natural in the field. The voiceover actor was so uncharismatic I was certain someone from the office was chosen at random to read the copy. Then I heard that same voiceover actor selling pool supplies on another radio station so I concluded that Bikini Bottom must have hired the cheapest guy in town to produce the most basic of commercials. Perhaps there is someone else you could hire more qualified to voiceover these commercials, an actor with experience on an Emmy award winning cable program whose unique place in the film industry was written about on [website] would be a much wiser choice to be the voice of the KK? (See external link). In the ad there was no catchphrase, no jingle, no music whatsoever. This simple approach to commercials lacks the pizazz to catch the attention of radio listeners. The first two commercials I heard would get a C in marketing 101 as they were nearly the exact same and accomplished the bare minimum to sell wares, the third one would maybe get a B- because there was some sort of attempted gimmick with the voiceover whispering to represent thinking inside his head about what he was going to eat later at KK. Not only does this commercial give no reason for the man to think inside his head, the outside world still and unpopulated. To see what a creative person would do with this concept see the attached script. There is an attempted slogan that could become part of an ad campaign. Commercials aren’t the only lost opportunities in promotions.
There are numerous promotional celebrity tie-ins at Bikini Bottom’s fingertips with Dimmadome performers. The restaurant could have a Phish sandwich as a OCOP special on [Phish performance dates], or a pretentious Jelly Roll on [Jelly Roll performance date]. Has anyone reached out to the Dimmadome theater or talent management for approved special menu items to be promoted inside the dome? Perhaps a special 20% discount to ticket holders? Is Bikini Bottom capable of getting permits to extend Open Container hours beyond [cutoff time] for an afterparty or block party throughout a Dimmadome concert? I see additional marketing opportunities left on the table for all new locations.
I believe new KK locations are missing out on a marketing campaign by opening with the entire cumbersome 50 item menu. This is a staggering amount of menu items which is too much to ask new staffers to perfect all at once. After a few months expanding the menu by approximately ten items is catching to customers who haven’t returned after a single visit or infrequently stop into KK. There are ten new food items that might appeal to them. Just like it appears KK doesn’t know what it’s looking for in a good commercial spot, this company doesn’t appear to recognize a talented from an untalented worker until it’s too late.
It is my understanding that KK had a headhunter to find Icus, the first Bikini Bottom kitchen manager. If it were up to me I’d hire someone to break the legs of that headhunter for bringing in a subpar kitchen lead. We are still attempting to recover from the lousy choices she made in the floor plan. If anybody responsible for Bikini Bottom’s floor plan is still giving input, stop them immediately. Once the doors were open to the public Icus had his head in the clouds to a point where I questioned if he saw the writing on the walls of an imminent demotion and stopped trying as a result. I had a full deck of 3x5 cards in an archaic powerpoint presentation bringing numerous concerns to light that he kept putting off listening to until he was fired. Those same cards were broken out for this essay. The second kitchen manager, Krumm, is a good lesson in honesty. According to Heffer, Krumm was given a bill of goods about how smoothly KK Bikini Bottom was running. Since Krumm stepped into a latrine pit which he was led to believe was a heated pool, he left in short time. Krumm also had plans to modify the menu but when his bosses told him to be a rodeo clown rather than a cowboy Krumm didn’t take too kindly to that. Meanwhile Heffer was the savior of the Bikini Bottom kitchen. I didn’t agree with every single decision he made, but I did with a majority of them. Heffer’s overhaul was such a blessing so I didn’t have to fiddle with the organization of 60% of the equipment anymore, only about 20% now. Too bad Heffer’s crippling depression came back after bashing his head into the wall out of frustration with the shackles KK restrained him with.
The current management team is enthusiastic but inexperienced. I see an accumulation of small infractions that might bring down Bikini Bottom’s health department rating significantly. I see the entire management team being inattentive or unaware about organizational issues. Whatever bureaucratic nonsense corporate tasks everyone with from the original sous chef Skeeter to Patty Mayonnaise that makes them walk away from the line between 11am and 1pm especially is infuriating. I have never been left alone on a multi-person line during peak hours so regularly, and I won’t tolerate it anymore. As much as I believe in his drive, I imagine our current kitchen manager SpongeBob will be let go after a disastrous service during the Dimmadome concert season that someone has to take the fall for. Chef Ren and I could help bring experience in management and dealing with festival traffic...if corporate does not force us to follow a failing strategy.
After working nearly a year at KK you may ask why I’m not proficient on more than one station. Excellent question. First, when I move over to another station the squeeze bottles are never labeled (until Stu Pickles was hired, now they’re sometimes labeled), so I always looked at the glut of unlabeled sauces and I’d go back to my station because the basic information is missing (also a health department violation for having numerous unlabeled, unchilled bottles). In his first week the new general manager Stu Pickles pulled out 90% of the containers under the grill station because they were lacking labels despite an expected health department visit. The second reason for my menu ignorance is the mountain of prep for my own and upcoming shifts I have piled up on my station throughout service. My attention to detail appears to be next level with my ability to anticipate stocking all items for all shifts including the weeknd. The third reason I wouldn’t learn multiple stations is a defense against the afternoon conference calls. In [month] the Bikini Bottom line was unprepared for a busy post lunch because one cook was cut and our expo person was busy with a conference call. The two of us remaining on the line had a miserable slog through an unexpectedly busy afternoon. When I brought this up to Krabs he disregarded me, being a good bean counter he quoted the cost percentage. What he didn’t take into account was the missing expo person who could have jumped on the line and expo to help the understaffed two man team. That person was stuck on a conference call. Just recently I saw the company actively lose money because of this poorly thought-out meeting during business hours. A customer wanted to order a dessert that was 86ed but had been restocked by our prep cook an hour before. The server was unable to sell them their dessert because the only person in the building who could help un-86 an item was on a conference call. This conference call calamity is another bone-headed choice that speaks to a larger decision-making problem within the corporate structure. Finish the conference calls by 10:45 am eastern.
In conclusion, I quit my position as a lowly grunt for this company because of its unwarranted perplexing dance steps and below average management. I don’t care how much varnish and lacquer is supplied, I refuse to polish this Bikini Bottom turd as a manager or full-time employee under the current circumstances. You would have to take a pickaxe to the floor, possibly relocate the bathrooms to add a door to the dishpit, get rid of the cheap low boy that doesn’t properly drain excess water, and Mr Gorbachov knock down that wall in the middle of the kitchen to give the proper amount of space to work. Or simply reduce the menu to 36 items (including sides) because that’s the amount of space this dreadful design can comfortably output. Would Gordon Ramsay compliment KK for all the unnecessary convoluted complications abound, or would Chef Ramsay yell about keeping it simple and demand KK chuck it in the flip? Thanks to the numerous pop up restaurants I have been a part of and the hectic world of trade shows/conventions, I may have more experience than anyone else employed by KK in smoothly opening a new location. I would enjoy being part of the opening team to ensure new locations have an efficiency Bikini Bottom lacks, and to keep upper management away from their worst instincts. Work with me and Chef Ren and we will help you become a well oiled machine like Chokey Chicken instead of the Chum Bucket cesspit Bikini Bottom currently embodies.

The Holy Martyr Justin the Philosopher (also known as Justin Martyr) was born around 114 at Sychem, an ancient city of Samaria. He called himself a Samaritan, although his father, Priscos, and grandfather, Baccheios, may have been pagan Greeks. From his childhood he displayed intelligence, love for knowledge and a fervent devotion to the knowledge of truth. When he came of age he studied the various schools of Greek philosophy: the Stoics, the Peripatetics, the Pythagoreans, the Platonists, and he concluded that none of these pagan teachings revealed the way to knowledge of the true God.
Once, when he was strolling in a solitary place beyond the city and pondering about where to seek the way to the knowledge of truth, he met an old man. In the ensuing conversation he revealed to Justin the essential nature of the Christian teaching and advised him to seek the answers to all the questions of life in the books of Holy Scripture. “But before anything else,” said the holy elder, “pray diligently to God, so that He might open to you the doors of light. No one is able to comprehend truth, unless he is granted understanding from God Himself, Who reveals it to each one who seeks Him in prayer and in love.”
In his thirtieth year, Justin accepted Holy Baptism (between the years 133 and 137). From this time he devoted his talents and vast philosophical knowledge to preaching the gospel among the pagans. He began to journey throughout the Roman Empire, sowing the seeds of faith. “Whosoever is able to proclaim truth and does not proclaim it will be condemned by God,” he wrote.
Justin opened a school of Christian philosophy. He subsequently defended the truth of Christian teaching, persuasively confuting pagan sophistry (in a debate with the Cynic philosopher Crescens) and heretical distortions of Christianity. He also spoke out against the teachings of the Gnostic Marcian.
In the year 155, when the emperor Antoninus Pius (138-161) started a persecution against Christians, Saint Justin personally wrote him an Apology in defense of three Christians innocently condemned to execution, Ptolemy and Lucias. The name of the third remains unknown.
In the Apology he demonstrated the falseness of the slander against Christians accused unjustly for merely having the name of Christians. The Apology had such a favorable effect upon the emperor that he ceased the persecution. Justin journeyed, by decision of the emperor, to Asia Minor where they were persecuting Christians with particular severity. He proclaimed the joyous message of the imperial edict throughout the surrounding cities and countryside.
The debate of Justin with the Rabbi Trypho took place at Ephesus. The Orthodox philosopher demonstrated the truth of the Christian teaching of faith on the basis of the Old Testament prophetic writings. Justin gave an account of this debate in his work Dialogue with Trypho the Jew.
A second Apology of Saint Justin was addressed to the Roman Senate. It was written in the year 161, soon after Marcus Aurelius (161-180) ascended the throne.
When he returned to Italy, Justin, like the Apostles, preached the gospel everywhere, converting many to the Christian faith. When the Saint arrived at Rome, the envious Crescens, whom Justin always defeated in debate, brought many false accusations against him before the Roman court. Saint Justin was put under guard, subjected to torture and suffered martyrdom by beheading in 165. The relics of Saint Justin the Philosopher rest in Rome.
In addition to the above-mentioned works, the following are also attributed to the Holy Martyr Justin the Philosopher:

1. On the Resurrection
2. A Discourse to the Greeks
3. Exhortation to the Greeks
4. On Monarchy
5. Exposition of the Faith
6. Letter to Zenas and Serenus
7. Answers to the Orthodox
8. The Greek's Questions to the Christians
9. Refutation of Certain Aristotelean Theses
10. The Psalmist
11. On the Soul

Saint John of Damascus preserved a significant part of Saint Justin’s On the Resurrection, which has not survived. The ecclesiastical historian Eusebius asserts that Saint Justin wrote books titled:

1. The Singer
2. Denunciation of all Existing Heresies
3. Against Marcian

(from johnsanidopoulos.com)

I made a character and this sotry for star wars (i made this story for my English finals, i had a month to make it and got an A on it), the characters name is Saya Eban and is a character I have been thinking of for over a decade now (im not in my 2nd decade so since i was super young). Saya at this time is 13-14 years old and was given inspiration by almost all the other jedi and also star killer. He is human and with reliance on the force he can live up to 1000 years with hi peak being between 35, 40 ish to around 800 years of age. In terms of prime power level and potential, in my canon he is 3rd most powerful character just underneath luke and anikan Skywalkers, but could contend with them at some points. Little background: he was a prodigy in school before he became a padawan, he always had an intrest in a character named Ahsoka Tano but never became more than friends because of the Jedi teachings. He was a fast learning youngling and became a padawan earlier than most other younglings, becaming a padawan at the age of 11 - 12. He was in the first battle of Genesis but his troop transport ship was blasted out of the air, landing behind enemy lines leaving him the sole surviver, and scarring him, making him want to never see uneeded bloodshed ever again. He met Count Dooku before he had met Obi-Wan and Anikan on geonosis, he locked blades with him once... once, before he was thrown aside like a house fly, not worth his time, he was out until the retreat of the battle was initiated. This gave him night terrors and nightmares, after this day he could never sleep more than an hour, if that, before he woke up feeling the dark side creeping in. So he had learned to use sleep meditation. Sleep meditation allowed him to accelerate his trainings and connect greater to the force, he had unlocked 1/3 of his life now, the force helping his cells heal his body while he sat and meditated.
This story is of how he lived through one of the bloodiest battles and worst losses of the Republic, the battle of Sarrish, and of how he had obtained his later main star ship, a Kom'rk Mark 1 class star fightetransport, aka the Puro (i made this story before I have watched the 3rd season of the Mandalorian, as of right now i still haven't so Idk if thats in season 3 or not).
There is about 11,340 words in the story, and I don't 100% know of what I should make him look like so have your imaginations run wild.
Ok here we go:
Tales of Saya Eban's Puro
Chapter 1

 The battle of Sarrish was one of the worst battles of the Clone Wars, it was a great devastating loss to the Republic and the Jedi, and I was in the middle of it all. Before the battle I was doing some touch-ups on my A-wing Fighter. I had managed to get my hands on a hyperdrive that would fit in my small fighter, although being able to enter hyperspace without an external hyperdrive wing is very convenient, fast, and easy, it does slow my fighter and hinder some mobility, but not an uncontrollable amount of loss. Little did I know it'd save my life later that week. After I had finished my work, gotten it restocked for my next battle, I was called to the Jedi command center for a briefing by Master Yoda, saying it was an urgent mission and I was needed now, with his backwards way of speaking annoying me slightly. In a flash, I had gathered my battle ready loadout and headed off to the command center. When I entered the command center with the center planning table showing starships from both Confederate and Republic sides, One chasing another. I look and see Masters Yoda and Windu and a holoprojected Obi-Wan Kenobi surrounding the Table, with deeply serious thoughts in their eyes, fingers on their concentrating chins. When I swiftly strolled in, I was greeted with Master Windu's cheerful, but serious voice: "Ah, Padawan Eban, good you're here, come quick, we must act with persistence if we want to gain an upper hand in this war." "Master Windu, good to see you, you too Master Yoda, Master Kenobi, what's the situation?" Master Obi-Wan states, "We are currently chasing Separatist forces to the planet Sarrish and we will need some back up, could you bring your part of the 104th battalion right away, we have heavy casualties and they're going to have reinforcements when they reach the planet." "Is there not anyone closer than me, it may take a few days for me to get there, yall mabe finished by the time I get there!" I said with hope in my eyes. "I'm afraid that you're the only one that is available with the most minimal time of arrival, you'll have to be quick though, it will be anytime now they will reach the planet and have reinforcements. we need this win, it will be a great victory for the Republic if we are able to capture the planet." Stated Obi-Wan with certainty. "All other generals are on missions right as we speak, you are the only one that can provide back up at this current time." Master Windu added "Closer to Knight after this mission you will be, great padawan you are, your great swift improvements, Master Plo is pleased with, believe in you I do." Master Yoda said with a jolly old-man voice. "Now go, there's not much time to waste, gather your men and go help Obi-Wan!" Rushedly said by Master Windu. "With determination in my voice, I yell "Yes Masters, right away!" And like a flash, I was gone. As I'm running off, I catch a glimpse of a green swoosh and the sound of a bolt deflection. I stumble to a stop and put my legs in reverse to give curiosity the wheel. When I peer in, I see Master Skywalker and Ahsoka, along with roughly 8 clone troopers all in a circle around Ahsoka and her one blade ignited. Master Skywalker had her eyes welded to her as he walked around the trooper. I could see Captain Rex standing and watching as well, although he seems to be the only one who spotted me poking in my head. He motioned his finger to his lips as to tell me to shush and not interfere, so I watched with anticipation. And after a lifetime stillness ending in a second after Master Skywalker yelled "START!" And stun doughnuts fire from the blasters of the troopers, sending a volley of blue twords Ahsoka from all directions. With great flexibility I pair with, she jumps into the air, spinning like skates on a skate rink in mid air deflecting all incoming plasmic projectiles landing with swift grace ready for more, And more came, she stands in the center blade moving almost faster than what my eyes could keep up with, until that one bolt punches her right in the back, knocking her to the ground, diminishing the blade back into the hilt. I spring into the room, speaking with worry in my voice when I squeak out "Ahsoka! Master Skywalker, what was that!?" 

"She was just training deflecting blaster fire, she's going to be outmatched a lot in this war, and clones are better than droids to practice with." Anakin said with pride that she was able to last little over a minute, thats improvement.
"Well I guess you're not completely wrong, but your going to give her a brain injury at this rate! Could you not go a bit easier on her?"
"She'll never learn if I go easy on her." Master Skywalker said with little arrogance in his voice.
"W- well, here, l-let me wake her then." I stuttered as I walked up to Rex holding Ahsoka like he's a pillow.
"Rex, do you mind if I-"
"Not at all General, here." Rex said as I sat next to him holding Ahsoka's top half of her body.

 As he caringly sets Ahsoka's rhythmically beating top half in my lap, head facing the heavens, I softly lay my hand over her forehead, close my eyes, and concentrate. A few suspenseful seconds later, I take my hand off and observe Ahsoka's hand softly glide to her now curling forehead, eyes fluttering open. 

With a smile I voiced"Wakey Wakey warrior princess, have a good nap?" Smirking the whole time.
"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes Nicksters." She groaned with fading pain.
"What are you doing here?" She leisurely grumbled as she started to lie propped up by her desirable, fluorescent orange arms made of flexible muscle.
"I was walking by, and saw a 'damsel in distress', I HAD to come and 'save the day'." I joked, smirking the whole time, annoying her little bit more.
"You know I have been dying to use my force heal on you since I had learned it. I bet you don't even feel bad at all right now hm?" I said leaning in
Ahsoka starts to stand as to get a feel for her own body.
"You're right, I feel better than I did before, not bad for someone named Nicks." Ahsoka said smirking right back at me.
"Oh come on, that was one time, that was even before we became patiwans!" I said with little dramatics in my vocal verberations.
"Ok Master, I'm ready to try again." Ahsoka said to Master Skywalker
"Not now Ahsoka, we have a mission from the Jedi council we have to attend to while Obi-Wan is on his own mission." Anikan said to Ahsoka, elongating his 'not' like he usually does
"I'm actually about to go give help to Obi-Wan right now… WHICH I NEED TO GET PREPARED FOR NOW!! Karabast, got to go! See yah Ahsoka, Master, Rex." And like a ship entering hyperspace, I was gone.
Chapter 2

 After 2 boring days traveling in hyperspace, me and my 5 Veneter class Cruisers are nearing our destination, this would make 12 Cruisers for the Republic side. A new commander CT'-4112 or Zerek, debriefs on the battle situation. As I had sensed, Obi-Wan was outmatched seeing as backup was on planet Sarrish for the fleeing Separatist ships, now it's 11 Munificent class Cruisers and 2 command stations blockading the planet. Kenobi was starting to be pushed back, relying on our Cruisers longer ranged cannons to hope the Sepies didn't get too close. Our Cruisers have longer ranged main canons and toms of fighter room, while the Sepies Cruisers have more fire power at closer ranges with more fighters than our Vendor class Cruisers, at closer ranges, the Sepies would completely destroy a Venetor class Cruiser, but we have strategies and will power. 

"Glad to see a friendly face Saya." Kenobi said exhaustingly.
"Well, it looked like you needed help. You know I need to be the one to save everyone. I'll move into position to fortify our defenses to push the Sepies back and for us to make a plan. What is your fleet's condition?"
"We have 2 Venetors heavily damaged and the rest either have mild to no damage. And we have lost half our fighters as of now." Urgently said by Kenobi.
"Ok, I'm sending men and supplies to you right now, let me take the front so I can take the damage if they send another attack." I calmly said to Kenobi.
"Men battle positions and set all power to front cannons and shields. Venators get into pincer position and get ready for an attack. Fighters get ready to launch." I commanded to all my Cruisers
"Master, if you could, could you add in your undamaged Venetors? " I wandered and directed with much mastery, I even made Obi-Wan himself visually impressed considering my inexperienced mind in life, and especially war. I even managed to make him smile.
"Getting in position now." Obi-Wan stated, still smiling.
"Understood, While you get everything fixed, I'll see if I can weaken their defenses, it seems as if they're in attack positions so we gotta be ready for anything." I said in deep thought.
"Ok, 10 to 13, I like those odds, makes it even, more so for the Sepies." I grinned.
"Now Saya, remember this is still a battle, don't be too cocky, you're starting to remind me of Anakin." Obi-Wan said with conviction.
"Yes Master, sorry about that." I answered to Obi-Wan, pulling back a little.

 Just then, many starfighters come from the enemy Cruisers, hundreds of them lightning fast, closing distance fast. 

"All right men, time for some fun. Obi-Wan, if you want to take command of my control center, I'll lead this fight." I said before Obi-Wan could respond.
"Ok- but Saya! Blast, maybe he's too much like Anikan." Obi-Wan said defeatedly.
As I get into the hangar I yell "Alright Wolfpack, let's get goin!" Then I hop into my modified Jedi A-wing.
We rush out from the center roof door along the Cruiser with my squadron aka The Wolfpack, with me leading my 23 fighters into battle and many more friendly's following from the hangars.
"Ok Wolfpack, let's make a break for them Cruisers, get as many of them gone as possible. 411 you ready?" I asked R2-411. R2-411 bleeps with readiness.
"Ok, time to blow them out of the sky, remember, stay in formation" I commanded.
"Yes sir!" The Clones bellowed.

 Then we hit the swarm with a mighty thundering sound of lasers flying through the emptiness of space seeing one after one of enemy fighter droids dropping all over the place. Me and my Wolfpack fly through all the 2 winged Vulture droids that look like each wing was sideways and has 2 prongs each side for wings. They were way more quick and maneuverable than us, but we had a duty to win, and we won't lose today. It's like a firework show, but you're dodging all the fireworks, and they're aiming right at you. While we are defending the Venator Cruisers, they're mostly firing at the Sepies Cruisers, slowly dwindling their energy shields down. 

"Boys, I have a plan, but I'll need yall to get back to the Cruisers." I urged
"Obi-Wan, how's the 2 heavily damaged Cruisers? We've been out for a long while. They should be good by now right?" I questioned Master Kenobi.
"They're about to come back into the fight, but one of our Cruisers is at a quarter shield, few good hits or bombing runs and it's gone, what's your plan Saya?" Obi-Wan said, perplexed.
"Just give me an opening to the left Separatist control center, that's all I need to get on that ship." I stated with confidence.
"I'll try my best, but don't be stupid Saya, we can't afford to lose you."
"Yeah yeah I know, just get me an opening please Master!" I begged.

 After the words fleeted from my mouth, all the Cruisers fired a hole through the droid fleet with friendly fighters also making way for me to get through. I blast the afterburners straight through the enemy swarm that's been lesson by the commotion, just barely being hidden by smoke from a just destroyed fighter straight into the leftmost control ship hanger landing with an explosive entry. And immediately I jump out, igniting both, my straight emerald green saber in my left, and my yellow saber with a curved hilt similar to the Count's hilt himself in my right. I'll face him again one day, it's inevitable, like me. I land and immediately cut a group of B1 battle droids heads off with my yellow saber facing out, giving me more reach, but as I start to take fire from the army that quickly form from my landing, I swiftly doge left to right almost able to doge the sight of a human eye. Left, pop goes the heads of 3, right, pop goes 5, jump through the air on an almost straight path through the thick of the army, spinning with a light show if one were to be an onlooker at this chaotic organization of flying red plasmic bolts going to a mix of yellow and green, then proceeding to fly straight back at the shooter with twice the velocity. I land on my feet with a thunderous "BOOM" with what seems like an explosion that incinerates half of the whole hanger with an electric yellow glow seeming like yellow lighting exploded from the epicenter of the explosion. When the smoke cleared, it seemed that everything within a 5 meter radius was completely incinerated, and everything within 40 meter radius was heavily damaged, and any technology within eye shot was either scrape or short-circuiting, but all B1 battle droids and super battle droids were out. 

I sighed with relief with little heavy breathing when I looked around me, but with no time to rest, 6 Vulture droid fighters came through the hanger's magnetic shield door, transforming to walk on its pronged wings like they were legs. They scanned me and started raining a flurry of red down onto me, but with my lightning fast reflexes, I raised my sabers to block the incoming hellfire from all six fighter's. Then came the flurry being deflected in any direction possible, and I could just barely see the 6 droids started to surround me by going behind my back, but I ain't done yet. As I'm blocking, jumping, spinning, twisting on a micrometer, I stomp with a mighty force, launching through the air, slowly spinning straight for a Vulture that has became the prey. Bolts whizzing by me, inches, centimeters near my skin, singeing my arm hairs to their roots. I land on top of the droid with a thunderous boom crunching where my foot had landed, driving my sabers straight through the brain of the story high droid, with a counterclockwise rotation around my back, dragging my sabers across the metal of the droid, I leap off the droid landing with the feathers and fly forward with a flashing dash slicing through 2 other droids legs, leaving gravity do its magical job. 3 down, 3 to go, but with little time left. I launch forward running on hairs dipping and dodging blots, I leap up slicing through one leg of a droid and pushing off of its gravity taken hull, coming down on another droid's leg, cutting with ease. I land like a leaf in the autumn skies, and launch with a swift leap, flying my yellow saber straight down the middle of the 6th and final droid with no time to spare.

 I land with caution, ready to fend off another foe, but none came at that second, so I took the opportunity and ran with it straight to where the main reactors should lie. I swiftly sprint with force leaps through the air to get to the reactor, the ship is 270th of a circle with a ball where the command center is, the middle is the only connected between the back of the ball and the inner back of the circle, that's where the reactor is, im at the left most side, may take me a minute to reach it, but I can get there without being seen. My plan was to quickly fix and rewrite a Vulture droid's code to go with my command, not going to be the best work but it will work, hopefully. I had to act fast because I knew there were going to be hundreds more droids to come to see the commotion, I'd say within the minute. The codes used on the droids are not the best, because of mass production, so It was an easy fix, I just needed it to fly a small bit. It comes back to life with a putt to its movement, I directed it to start flying while I'm on its back, putting the whole time with smoke, just what I needed. I start to move forward as fast as possible. As we get around the hundreds of battle droids below, I'm starting to speed up, and as I see the reactor room, I could hear B1's yell " HEY! STOP! YOUR GOING TO FAST" in their robotic voice. Before I hit the Shield covering the reactor room, I jump off to the left where the blast door is for the room. With the distraction of the droid smashing into the shield, I use this time to slowly cut through the blast doors with both sabers starting at the bottom of the door, going up and around to form a circle I can fit through. I was through within a Minute, unnoticed, or so I was led to believe. When I get into the reactor room, I throw explosives all over the reactors, with a detonation in T minus 1 minute. I fly out of the room, calling for 411 to bring my ship as fast as possible, 55. Running across the hanger, I'm spotted by the hundreds of battle droids, which immediately start firing right as they see me 50. The explosion of the fighter droid caused a chain to nearby explosive barrels, exploding more Vulture droids causing tons of smoke and fires to spread around the hangar area, 45. As I'm running, my yellow saber is blocking multiple bolts flying at me while I'm jumping, spinning, performing acrobatic movements while being shot by hundreds of droids, from B1's, to super's, to droideka's, all firing at me, adding to the smoke, 35. Running with young blood in my veins, I perform 1, 2, 3 long jumps and leap onto the side of a slanted destroyed Vulture droid, 30. I jump up, reaching for the cloudy sky just as 411 swoops in predictively shoving my hand into the side of the sharp A-wing hull, 25. I grab the side of the hull and pull myself up into the cockpit, grabbing the controls, 20. I spin to the exit with roughly 67° of the hanger I need to shoot out of, I fire the afterburners using the circumference of the circle and my fighters movment to my advantage, 15. Pushing forward, I am drifting an A-wing around the hangar of a Separatist capital ship skimming the walls centimeters away from an explosive fiery death, 10. I barely screamed out of the hanger, to be able to see a view of the capital ship flying stright for the other Sepie capital ship, 5. Im still firing the afterburners to try and attempt to get a safe distance away from the soon to be collision sight, 4. I let 411 take the control's, 3. I turn my head to look back, 2. I see the collision of the 2 270° hangers, 1. I watch as i get the view of a star being formed right infront of my eyes, and seeing many Sepie Cruisers being absolutely engulfed by the flames, and a blast wave decimating the Vulture droids… blast wave…. BLAST WAVE! Just then I'm thrown far, along with the debri. I manged to gain control of the craft and start performing advanced monuvers to avoid being hit by debrie that will demolishe me and my tiny fighter. 

"Saya, can you hear me? Saya?" Master Obi-Wan Kenobi pleaded.
"Yeah, yeah master, I'm good, I'm fine. Woo…!" I said with a sigh of relief.
Chapter 3

 The explosion had decimated the Separatist forces leaving 4 Cruisers sustaining heavy or mild damages, but with an opening, Obi-Wan and I travel to the ground along with Captain Cody to go for a large ground assault. Master Obi-Wan's plan was to drop in and gather our troops and split them between Obi-Wan and commander Cody. We were west, they were east. The Separatists had the high ground seeing as they had a cliff to their advantage. Flying in on gunships, we were taking heavy fire from their anti aircraft cannons. Commander Cody and I are debriefing the squad on the way to the rally point, seeing gunships after gunship falling to the rocky ground in a fiery explosive ball of red hot metal, and screams, with no plants in sight, just rocks, gunships, and red streaks flying by. Explosions booming right next to us with our doors right open. We have been ordered and ordering troops to stay far away from the mountain top gun fortifying the mountain top of the cliff, leaving that gun for the gunships and the best of the clone troopers, or ARC (Advanced Recon Commandos) troopers to deal with that later, seeing as a ground assault is too dangerous for us. As some of the clones have said, it's not an easy mission, but hops are high. 

"30 seconds until landing." A clone trooper yelled to me and Cody.
Cody starts with "All right, listen up! Maintain squad formations, 'A' squad, You're on me-" ZZZZZEEEROW- BOOOM!
"Where hit!" I yell "Everyone! Hold on!"
Before we hit the ground I leap out of the gunship with a backwards somersault, force pulling all the troops out of the burning fireball heading for the ground, grabbing all of the men, including the 2 pilots at the front, breaking through the windows. I land like rain from the sky, catching the troops I just pulled out with my powers and have them roughly land on the fluffy rocks next to our now downed gunship, no casualties yet. I rush over to take cover under our gunship on its left side behind enemy lines. I sit and meditate as they come up with a plan.
"What's the status lieutenant?" Cody asked
"5 injured thanks to General Saya, but that's not that bad news… Does that Rock look familiar?" The lieutenant asked.
"Yea, the mountain, right where we're not supposed to be." Said Cody
"General Kenobi ordered us not to try taking this section from the ground." The lieutenant regenerated back again with what was already established.
"That's what he said…but what would the general do if he were here?" Cody rhetorically asked.
"Saya sir, what do you think?" A trooper asked me somewhat desperately.
"I think Cody should take this one, I've got your back Cody." I answered with my legs crossed, eyes closed, slightly levitating over the rocks.
"Eight-Eight-Six-Seven through Eight-Eight-Six-Nine and Saya, fix your grapples and come with me. Everybody, prepare for covering fire." Cody ordered.
I get up, eyes still shut, ready to block anything coming our way.
"NOW!" Cody yells, sprinting across what is our no-man's-land
I open my eyes, ignite my Sabers, Green in left, yellow in right, and dash towards the now incoming blaster fire. I sense it, left side, block, right side, deflect, one for Cody, deflected. We get to some stalagmites at the bottom of the mountain, sustaining heavy fire, I pose as a distraction for all the fire, deflecting as many blots as I can back at the metal men. One troop trips and falls, pow, bolt straight through the head. Cody and the men shoot the grappling hooks up towards the top of the mountain and start climbing. I jump from my spot reigniting my sabers, driving them through the mountain side, helping me grab hold with my feet. And when I look up, I see a grapple fall behind me. I tried to grab the rope but I was too late. When I managed to obtain it, he had already hit the ground. Another tragedy, one that never had to happen, life being wasted away. I look up, a droid stairs emotionlessly down into my emotion filled eyes. A blue bolt shoots past me, impacting the droid's head, sending the body backwards.
Cody and the other clone rises from the cliff side as I leap up from the side, landing in front of the clones and immediately start deflecting with my 2 sabers having nothing pass. Cody takes this opportunity to run around my defense and attacks the droids head on, bashing one droid with the butt of his rifle and swinging his rifle at another, destroying both of them. The droid manning the anti aircraft gun turns and aims at Cody. Instinctively I jump in front of the cannon as it fires, I deflect the large bolt away with my right yellow saber, knocking my body to the right, making me stumble. But with the motion throwing me to the right, I use the momentum to throw my green saber with my left hand, impaling the droid in the metal chest. Cody then hops onto the turret, points the gun at the droids firing at our men, and lets loose, destroying all in its reticle.
"Thanks General, I owe you one, ill getcha next time." Cody said slowly getting off the turret.
"You're alright my friend, just pay it forward, let's go see how Obi-Wan did." I slightly worried, staring off to the north.

 We group up at the randevu, where we have set base camp on the planet in a small raven a bit away from where we captured the cliff with some makeshift scouting towers dotted around our position. Obi-Wan had more resistance than what he had anticipated, he was a little banged up, but he was fine in the end. This was a huge victory seeing as we have been able to set base on a planet that allows us to get resources through this hyperspace route and onto parts of the army past this point. Before, General Grievous snipped our route to where we couldn't get resources to our army on the other side from Coruscant. 

Chapter 4

 12 hours later, we have rested and have managed to build up a good base incase of a surprise attack. We are still fighting a few fronts of Separatist holdouts with a fortress a few klicks west, or about 4 miles west. 

I sit in my tent meditating, reflecting back on the weeks events, and what Ahsoka was doing back at the temple, training hard. I recite what I did with an almost overwhelming amount of blaster fire attempting to fly into me, how I was just mostly averting the blots away from me and not in a direction that would benefit me most.
'RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE'

 The ground started to shake out of nowhere, breaking my peace. I rush out of my tent, only to be met with a face full of B2 battle droid. I jump back over my tent flipping onto my feet as I see my tent being lit into flames from heavy bolt fire flying at me. Igniting both my sabers, I deflect the incoming fire away from me up into the sky as much as I physically could. I took a glance around, it was becoming more sunlit as we fought. It was a slaughter, clones dying left and right, Kenobi was on the Command ship getting patched, so it was just me, and the clones down here, being manicured. With a swift right step, I change lightsaber form, combining my form 3, (defensive form blocking anything coming way, and either making, or waiting for an opening to strike) with a combination of form 2 (saber to saber form, putting least amount or saber movement and preferring precise efficient movements) and form 4 (saber from using the force to enhance physical abilities, and heavily utilizing fast acrobatic movements to move around and disorient the opponents, using wide sweeping saber movements to block and hit targets) I use the power if the many bolts to propel my body onto my right leg, crouching down and taking a huge lead in to the air. Looking around like it is moving in stop motion, I see thousands of droids around, completely outnumbering my men. Glancing down where I had jumped from, there seems to be a super battle droid rising from the ground, looking as if it has been there for at least a few days. Time seems to start like normal again, immediately I have to block bolts coming for my body, twisting, turning, deflecting every. single. bolt. right to another droid. I can't have any more unneeded deaths in my hands. I land with an impactful explosion of yellow lighting, rendering half of the electronics on the field obsolete. Shots fire over the wall, exploding near me. 

"Everyone, Retreat!" I yelled into the comms.
I ran towards the lieutenant that I had survived the crash with, he was running for a troop transport.
"Get to the ships, return to the Venators! Get Kenobi and relay what has happened!" Urgency blowing through my voice.

 I push him into the ship as it takes off. As it's doing so, I force push it away from the field as to be in less danger of being shot down. But rockets fly through the air, I reach through the force and grab onto the hurdling death traps, I grab 1, 2, crash them into one another, 3, grab, 4, grab, 5, miss. ERRROW… BOOOM! With a hopeless explosion, the ship bursts into an explosive ball of fire, right in front of my eyes, out of my grasp. Shots fly past my head from behind me, I ignite my sunlit yellow saber to block incoming bolts. No men, only metal remains, and it wants me dead. I dash for my ship on the other side of the airstrip, luckily barely touched from this horrible surprise party that invited everyone I very much dislike. Hopping into my A-wing, I lift-off dogging left, right, up, down, roll left, roll right, barely being passed by on all sides by cannon fire. When I reach the point past the clouds, there's a whole war above. Separatist forces have surprised Kenobi with an overwhelming number of ships, putting our war torn 12 Venators against 16 Munificent class Cruisers. We were greatly out matched. But the time I was in space we had lost 3 Vectors compared to there 1 lost. Droids noticed me coming from the planet and started to verge onto my position. 

"Obi-Wan! You there? Can you hear me?" I yelled, pulling evasive maneuvers.
"Saya, is that you?" Kenobi asked.
"Yes, we got surprised on the ground, seems the same happened here." I rushingly said.
"Yes, they came out of nowh-" Kenobi is cut off by a blaring siren from my cockpit.
"Wait, my ship is damaged, it's starting up my hyperdrive, 411 can you fix it?" I said dipping left and right while trying to stop the hyperdrive activation.
With a few bleeps of fear, I understand what's happening.
"When I was thrown from the capital ship explosive wave, I must have been hit near the hyperdrive, and explosions from my escape, along with the maneuvers I have been pulling, it may have caused damage that is registering a hyperdrive activation. Master Obi-Wan, I don't know, I-I don't know what to do!" I claimed with fear in my eyes.
"Can you deactivate the hyperdrive at all 411?" Kenobi asked
411 bleeps with a sad toon.
"Blast, Saya, does it say where you're going?"
"N- No, my council just says ERROR." I stated, now with much fear in my voice.

 I managed to steer my craft into the position of the hyperspace lane. 

"Tell Ahsoka good bye if I don't-" I get cut off when the the hyperdrive powered up woth a vvvvvvvvvvvVVVVERRRRRRR PEEOW, and just like that, me, my A-wing, and R2-411, are gone.
Chapter 5

 It's been days since the battle, mabe 2 or 3 days. Luckily I always keep many ration bars in my fighter to last me a good few days, along with my extra water and my ability to go into a deep meditative state, conserving food and water. Keeping me company is my meditation and 411. We have almost hit some unknown objects, could have been planets, asteroids, other ships, but we seem to be staying in hyperspace lanes luckily, or I would have been dead a long time ago. My class 2 hyperdrive could have taken me all over the galaxy by now, I could be heading towards Coruscant right now for all I know. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
My hyperdrive warning kicked on, showing that there is a massive gravity force in my path. The console flashed with big red dangerous letters "Exiting Hyperdrive" on the screen.
"YES! FINALLY!" I yelled with excitement.

 I watch through the glass to see a barren looking planet, and a similar looking moon, a moon I was heading to. I was moving fast, as I entered the moon's atmosphere, Im grabbing the controls, barely anything. My craft is red hot from the rate at which I'm coming in on. I'm grabbing the stick, pulling back as much as I can, as to try and save myself and 411 from a fiery death. I scraped by a big rocky mountain dealing more damage to my A-wing. 

"HOLD ON 411!"
"Come ooooon. Pull pull pullllll…. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!-" VERRROW BOOOOSH!!! The crash landing sounded like a bomb flying through the air, then landing on its target. I try to get from my seat just to find my strap and window will not open. Using my saber I cut off my seat strap and broke the window from the hinges and leaped out, taking 411 from the craft, swiftly landing on a tall mountainous rock. The craft seemed to have pushed through the land 50 meters from the initial impact spot. The area I was in seemed to be very rocky terrain with many rocky canyons and huge rocks that are almost mountainous. The sun was close to setting down for the night but was still a good hour away from sleeping.

 With the force by my side, I felt a very uneasy sensation telling me to stay out of sight. I duck down on the tall skinny rock taking 411 down with me. 411 confusingly bleeps when I do so. "Hey, I have a feeling right now, just keep quiet real quick, there's somebody coming. Trust me." Me and 411 peer over the edge looming over my crashed ship just as a group of 6 men in full armor covering their whole body fly in with jetpacks strapped to their backs, blasters in hand. As they land, they search around my wreckage, presumably looking for survivors. One seems to be ordering the others around, pointing at one to look in one direction, another a different direction, and scanning around for the unexpected visitor. I look down at my Wrist link, my distress signal wasn't sent, I guess that was damaged from entering the planet at such high speed with no deflector shields surrounding the ship like a protective blanket. 

"Blast, 411, what's your S.O.S signal situation, did it go through?" 411 beeps with a little drama like I should know it didn't go through.
"Well sorry for busting your rusty bolts you rowdy rancor, better to try than to just give up mister sassy pants. Maybe I should wipe your memory for a change, see how you like it."
"Now shush, don't want them to find us spying on them, won't look too good." I demand. "Now here, in case we get caught, I don't want them to know I'm a Jedi, so here, take my sabers, I'm not gonna need them anyways." I said shoving my lightsabers into 411's storage compartment and looking towards the crash again.

 Just then the suit of armor that had been commanding his squad bursts up into my view right on my face out of hyperspace blue. 

"Ah, found ya trespassers, you 2 are coming with me." Demanded the Mandalorian with a snickering sound in his voice as the others rise from the portal of the abyss from down below.

 It was a good thing my ropes where in the tent back on Sarrish, or this may have been an even worse situation, Mangalorians like them hate Jedi with a passion, and it's a good thing I always have a broken blaster in 411 for any cases where I need to blend in with a crowd or pose as a normal civilian; although, the ability to become a civilian at any point is great, I've had little need to do so much. I'm quite popular with the people for being one who tries to connect with the population as a fellow citizen. So I rarely stay in the temple for too long. I love being with the people and learning skills without the force, like being a mechanic, electrician, public speaker, security guard, an all around great person to talk with about anything. I'm quite known on all levels of Coruscant for being one of the most friendly Jedi to be around. Right now though, I need to focus on not being caught, at least That's what my gut is telling me. After they searched my character for any weapons and found the broken blaster that 411 had put in my holster where my lightsaber usually is, they were satisfied and pushed us into one of their big Kom'rk Mark 1 class Mandalorian starfightetransport ship. 

(Look in comments for 6th)

I wake up in an infirmery, inside a mountain , closed off by 3 massives doors ,
I wake up to see a women, I've never seen before but I recognised, she said "we are in mountain erza, in the north"
I sit up confused and questioning where I am "mountain erza,what are you on about , who are you" almost like I have been there before like really been there but have lost all memory of this world I am in.
After I get up and she helps me up and put the massive 10+ feet doors , (three large doors opening one by one, double doors), as we go out I look behind and see the massive doors slowly close and I see the doors are inside a massive mountain, looks very dark not scaring but kinda creepy.
We go outside and there is a very wide road with a F1 car and a 10ft females like robot, she tells me to get in the car and follow her, she sez as she sits in the chest of the large robot,
I follow, this world when I say vast I mean I can literally see entire mountain ranges in complete detail, the land I have never seen before in real life not even in movies or comics, the apocalyptic fantasy world, is unlike anything I've experienced, in dreams , I genuinely thaught I was in another world/dimension,
Anyway, after I sit down and start the engine, I follow her on terrain ,that the texsture of is very rough and the bumps I felt everything, like I was really there, Luna takes me through this mountain range, and then quickly grabs the car and hides behind a large scale rock,
There is a growl that shakes the ground, I peeak and see this huge creature it's 20-30ft tall looks as if it was made of bone, it had 10 eyes Glowing red, and there where to make characters, the had weapons unlike anything I've ever seen, they attack this beast and they use shock waves from the shere force of there attack, causing me to feel the rumble of of the area around shaking . Like an earthquake, keep in mind I'm still being held by Luna's robot.
They fail to destroy this and Luna escapes over the tall walls of rock and iron, with me in the robots hand, and this landscape, was beaten and apocalyptic, the details were incredibly realistic, in the distance there is another large door, like a massive version of garage doors , solid steel.
We go there and she takes me inside this underground like city, it looks like slums but technologically advanced, but still apocalyptic,
Luna states "this is where you live" I still am very confused at this point ,
"What is this what date are we in", she stays silent for only a few moments before a random person, sez
Random:"we are in the year 2337, 53 years since the creatures attacked earth"
Me, at this point I gripped my head trying to wake up but nothing, I stayed in this dream I literally couldn't wake up,
"But it was only 2023 just yesterday", Im having a existential crisis at this point, it was that real ,
( alot more happened but I'll leave it here for the moment, does this dream have any meaning at all or no...
I'll continue later I'm currently writing the entire dream it's self so I need to try and redream it again if it's possible)

I made a character and this sotry for star wars (i made this story for my English finals, i had a month to make it and got an A on it), the characters name is Saya Eban and is a character I have been thinking of for over a decade now (im not in my 2nd decade so since i was super young). Saya at this time is 13-14 years old and was given inspiration by almost all the other jedi and also star killer. He is human and with reliance on the force he can live up to 1000 years with hi peak being between 35, 40 ish to around 800 years of age. In terms of prime power level and potential, in my canon he is 3rd most powerful character just underneath luke and anikan Skywalkers, but could contend with them at some points. Little background: he was a prodigy in school before he became a padawan, he always had an intrest in a character named Ahsoka Tano but never became more than friends because of the Jedi teachings. He was a fast learning youngling and became a padawan earlier than most other younglings, becaming a padawan at the age of 11 - 12. He was in the first battle of Genesis but his troop transport ship was blasted out of the air, landing behind enemy lines leaving him the sole surviver, and scarring him, making him want to never see uneeded bloodshed ever again. He met Count Dooku before he had met Obi-Wan and Anikan on geonosis, he locked blades with him once... once, before he was thrown aside like a house fly, not worth his time, he was out until the retreat of the battle was initiated. This gave him night terrors and nightmares, after this day he could never sleep more than an hour, if that, before he woke up feeling the dark side creeping in. So he had learned to use sleep meditation. Sleep meditation allowed him to accelerate his trainings and connect greater to the force, he had unlocked 1/3 of his life now, the force helping his cells heal his body while he sat and meditated.
This story is of how he lived through one of the bloodiest battles and worst losses of the Republic, the battle of Sarrish, and of how he had obtained his later main star ship, a Kom'rk Mark 1 class star fightetransport, aka the Puro (i made this story before I have watched the 3rd season of the Mandalorian, as of right now i still haven't so Idk if thats in season 3 or not).
There is about 11,340 words in the story, and I don't 100% know of what I should make him look like so have your imaginations run wild.
Ok here we go:
Tales of Saya Eban's Puro
Chapter 1

 The battle of Sarrish was one of the worst battles of the Clone Wars, it was a great devastating loss to the Republic and the Jedi, and I was in the middle of it all. Before the battle I was doing some touch-ups on my A-wing Fighter. I had managed to get my hands on a hyperdrive that would fit in my small fighter, although being able to enter hyperspace without an external hyperdrive wing is very convenient, fast, and easy, it does slow my fighter and hinder some mobility, but not an uncontrollable amount of loss. Little did I know it'd save my life later that week. After I had finished my work, gotten it restocked for my next battle, I was called to the Jedi command center for a briefing by Master Yoda, saying it was an urgent mission and I was needed now, with his backwards way of speaking annoying me slightly. In a flash, I had gathered my battle ready loadout and headed off to the command center. When I entered the command center with the center planning table showing starships from both Confederate and Republic sides, One chasing another. I look and see Masters Yoda and Windu and a holoprojected Obi-Wan Kenobi surrounding the Table, with deeply serious thoughts in their eyes, fingers on their concentrating chins. When I swiftly strolled in, I was greeted with Master Windu's cheerful, but serious voice: "Ah, Padawan Eban, good you're here, come quick, we must act with persistence if we want to gain an upper hand in this war." "Master Windu, good to see you, you too Master Yoda, Master Kenobi, what's the situation?" Master Obi-Wan states, "We are currently chasing Separatist forces to the planet Sarrish and we will need some back up, could you bring your part of the 104th battalion right away, we have heavy casualties and they're going to have reinforcements when they reach the planet." "Is there not anyone closer than me, it may take a few days for me to get there, yall mabe finished by the time I get there!" I said with hope in my eyes. "I'm afraid that you're the only one that is available with the most minimal time of arrival, you'll have to be quick though, it will be anytime now they will reach the planet and have reinforcements. we need this win, it will be a great victory for the Republic if we are able to capture the planet." Stated Obi-Wan with certainty. "All other generals are on missions right as we speak, you are the only one that can provide back up at this current time." Master Windu added "Closer to Knight after this mission you will be, great padawan you are, your great swift improvements, Master Plo is pleased with, believe in you I do." Master Yoda said with a jolly old-man voice. "Now go, there's not much time to waste, gather your men and go help Obi-Wan!" Rushedly said by Master Windu. "With determination in my voice, I yell "Yes Masters, right away!" And like a flash, I was gone. As I'm running off, I catch a glimpse of a green swoosh and the sound of a bolt deflection. I stumble to a stop and put my legs in reverse to give curiosity the wheel. When I peer in, I see Master Skywalker and Ahsoka, along with roughly 8 clone troopers all in a circle around Ahsoka and her one blade ignited. Master Skywalker had her eyes welded to her as he walked around the trooper. I could see Captain Rex standing and watching as well, although he seems to be the only one who spotted me poking in my head. He motioned his finger to his lips as to tell me to shush and not interfere, so I watched with anticipation. And after a lifetime stillness ending in a second after Master Skywalker yelled "START!" And stun doughnuts fire from the blasters of the troopers, sending a volley of blue twords Ahsoka from all directions. With great flexibility I pair with, she jumps into the air, spinning like skates on a skate rink in mid air deflecting all incoming plasmic projectiles landing with swift grace ready for more, And more came, she stands in the center blade moving almost faster than what my eyes could keep up with, until that one bolt punches her right in the back, knocking her to the ground, diminishing the blade back into the hilt. I spring into the room, speaking with worry in my voice when I squeak out "Ahsoka! Master Skywalker, what was that!?" 

"She was just training deflecting blaster fire, she's going to be outmatched a lot in this war, and clones are better than droids to practice with." Anakin said with pride that she was able to last little over a minute, thats improvement.
"Well I guess you're not completely wrong, but your going to give her a brain injury at this rate! Could you not go a bit easier on her?"
"She'll never learn if I go easy on her." Master Skywalker said with little arrogance in his voice.
"W- well, here, l-let me wake her then." I stuttered as I walked up to Rex holding Ahsoka like he's a pillow.
"Rex, do you mind if I-"
"Not at all General, here." Rex said as I sat next to him holding Ahsoka's top half of her body.

 As he caringly sets Ahsoka's rhythmically beating top half in my lap, head facing the heavens, I softly lay my hand over her forehead, close my eyes, and concentrate. A few suspenseful seconds later, I take my hand off and observe Ahsoka's hand softly glide to her now curling forehead, eyes fluttering open. 

With a smile I voiced"Wakey Wakey warrior princess, have a good nap?" Smirking the whole time.
"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes Nicksters." She groaned with fading pain.
"What are you doing here?" She leisurely grumbled as she started to lie propped up by her desirable, fluorescent orange arms made of flexible muscle.
"I was walking by, and saw a 'damsel in distress', I HAD to come and 'save the day'." I joked, smirking the whole time, annoying her little bit more.
"You know I have been dying to use my force heal on you since I had learned it. I bet you don't even feel bad at all right now hm?" I said leaning in
Ahsoka starts to stand as to get a feel for her own body.
"You're right, I feel better than I did before, not bad for someone named Nicks." Ahsoka said smirking right back at me.
"Oh come on, that was one time, that was even before we became patiwans!" I said with little dramatics in my vocal verberations.
"Ok Master, I'm ready to try again." Ahsoka said to Master Skywalker
"Not now Ahsoka, we have a mission from the Jedi council we have to attend to while Obi-Wan is on his own mission." Anikan said to Ahsoka, elongating his 'not' like he usually does
"I'm actually about to go give help to Obi-Wan right now… WHICH I NEED TO GET PREPARED FOR NOW!! Karabast, got to go! See yah Ahsoka, Master, Rex." And like a ship entering hyperspace, I was gone.
Chapter 2

 After 2 boring days traveling in hyperspace, me and my 5 Veneter class Cruisers are nearing our destination, this would make 12 Cruisers for the Republic side. A new commander CT'-4112 or Zerek, debriefs on the battle situation. As I had sensed, Obi-Wan was outmatched seeing as backup was on planet Sarrish for the fleeing Separatist ships, now it's 11 Munificent class Cruisers and 2 command stations blockading the planet. Kenobi was starting to be pushed back, relying on our Cruisers longer ranged cannons to hope the Sepies didn't get too close. Our Cruisers have longer ranged main canons and toms of fighter room, while the Sepies Cruisers have more fire power at closer ranges with more fighters than our Vendor class Cruisers, at closer ranges, the Sepies would completely destroy a Venetor class Cruiser, but we have strategies and will power. 

"Glad to see a friendly face Saya." Kenobi said exhaustingly.
"Well, it looked like you needed help. You know I need to be the one to save everyone. I'll move into position to fortify our defenses to push the Sepies back and for us to make a plan. What is your fleet's condition?"
"We have 2 Venetors heavily damaged and the rest either have mild to no damage. And we have lost half our fighters as of now." Urgently said by Kenobi.
"Ok, I'm sending men and supplies to you right now, let me take the front so I can take the damage if they send another attack." I calmly said to Kenobi.
"Men battle positions and set all power to front cannons and shields. Venators get into pincer position and get ready for an attack. Fighters get ready to launch." I commanded to all my Cruisers
"Master, if you could, could you add in your undamaged Venetors? " I wandered and directed with much mastery, I even made Obi-Wan himself visually impressed considering my inexperienced mind in life, and especially war. I even managed to make him smile.
"Getting in position now." Obi-Wan stated, still smiling.
"Understood, While you get everything fixed, I'll see if I can weaken their defenses, it seems as if they're in attack positions so we gotta be ready for anything." I said in deep thought.
"Ok, 10 to 13, I like those odds, makes it even, more so for the Sepies." I grinned.
"Now Saya, remember this is still a battle, don't be too cocky, you're starting to remind me of Anakin." Obi-Wan said with conviction.
"Yes Master, sorry about that." I answered to Obi-Wan, pulling back a little.

 Just then, many starfighters come from the enemy Cruisers, hundreds of them lightning fast, closing distance fast. 

"All right men, time for some fun. Obi-Wan, if you want to take command of my control center, I'll lead this fight." I said before Obi-Wan could respond.
"Ok- but Saya! Blast, maybe he's too much like Anikan." Obi-Wan said defeatedly.
As I get into the hangar I yell "Alright Wolfpack, let's get goin!" Then I hop into my modified Jedi A-wing.
We rush out from the center roof door along the Cruiser with my squadron aka The Wolfpack, with me leading my 23 fighters into battle and many more friendly's following from the hangars.
"Ok Wolfpack, let's make a break for them Cruisers, get as many of them gone as possible. 411 you ready?" I asked R2-411. R2-411 bleeps with readiness.
"Ok, time to blow them out of the sky, remember, stay in formation" I commanded.
"Yes sir!" The Clones bellowed.

 Then we hit the swarm with a mighty thundering sound of lasers flying through the emptiness of space seeing one after one of enemy fighter droids dropping all over the place. Me and my Wolfpack fly through all the 2 winged Vulture droids that look like each wing was sideways and has 2 prongs each side for wings. They were way more quick and maneuverable than us, but we had a duty to win, and we won't lose today. It's like a firework show, but you're dodging all the fireworks, and they're aiming right at you. While we are defending the Venator Cruisers, they're mostly firing at the Sepies Cruisers, slowly dwindling their energy shields down. 

"Boys, I have a plan, but I'll need yall to get back to the Cruisers." I urged
"Obi-Wan, how's the 2 heavily damaged Cruisers? We've been out for a long while. They should be good by now right?" I questioned Master Kenobi.
"They're about to come back into the fight, but one of our Cruisers is at a quarter shield, few good hits or bombing runs and it's gone, what's your plan Saya?" Obi-Wan said, perplexed.
"Just give me an opening to the left Separatist control center, that's all I need to get on that ship." I stated with confidence.
"I'll try my best, but don't be stupid Saya, we can't afford to lose you."
"Yeah yeah I know, just get me an opening please Master!" I begged.

 After the words fleeted from my mouth, all the Cruisers fired a hole through the droid fleet with friendly fighters also making way for me to get through. I blast the afterburners straight through the enemy swarm that's been lesson by the commotion, just barely being hidden by smoke from a just destroyed fighter straight into the leftmost control ship hanger landing with an explosive entry. And immediately I jump out, igniting both, my straight emerald green saber in my left, and my yellow saber with a curved hilt similar to the Count's hilt himself in my right. I'll face him again one day, it's inevitable, like me. I land and immediately cut a group of B1 battle droids heads off with my yellow saber facing out, giving me more reach, but as I start to take fire from the army that quickly form from my landing, I swiftly doge left to right almost able to doge the sight of a human eye. Left, pop goes the heads of 3, right, pop goes 5, jump through the air on an almost straight path through the thick of the army, spinning with a light show if one were to be an onlooker at this chaotic organization of flying red plasmic bolts going to a mix of yellow and green, then proceeding to fly straight back at the shooter with twice the velocity. I land on my feet with a thunderous "BOOM" with what seems like an explosion that incinerates half of the whole hanger with an electric yellow glow seeming like yellow lighting exploded from the epicenter of the explosion. When the smoke cleared, it seemed that everything within a 5 meter radius was completely incinerated, and everything within 40 meter radius was heavily damaged, and any technology within eye shot was either scrape or short-circuiting, but all B1 battle droids and super battle droids were out. 

I sighed with relief with little heavy breathing when I looked around me, but with no time to rest, 6 Vulture droid fighters came through the hanger's magnetic shield door, transforming to walk on its pronged wings like they were legs. They scanned me and started raining a flurry of red down onto me, but with my lightning fast reflexes, I raised my sabers to block the incoming hellfire from all six fighter's. Then came the flurry being deflected in any direction possible, and I could just barely see the 6 droids started to surround me by going behind my back, but I ain't done yet. As I'm blocking, jumping, spinning, twisting on a micrometer, I stomp with a mighty force, launching through the air, slowly spinning straight for a Vulture that has became the prey. Bolts whizzing by me, inches, centimeters near my skin, singeing my arm hairs to their roots. I land on top of the droid with a thunderous boom crunching where my foot had landed, driving my sabers straight through the brain of the story high droid, with a counterclockwise rotation around my back, dragging my sabers across the metal of the droid, I leap off the droid landing with the feathers and fly forward with a flashing dash slicing through 2 other droids legs, leaving gravity do its magical job. 3 down, 3 to go, but with little time left. I launch forward running on hairs dipping and dodging blots, I leap up slicing through one leg of a droid and pushing off of its gravity taken hull, coming down on another droid's leg, cutting with ease. I land like a leaf in the autumn skies, and launch with a swift leap, flying my yellow saber straight down the middle of the 6th and final droid with no time to spare.

 I land with caution, ready to fend off another foe, but none came at that second, so I took the opportunity and ran with it straight to where the main reactors should lie. I swiftly sprint with force leaps through the air to get to the reactor, the ship is 270th of a circle with a ball where the command center is, the middle is the only connected between the back of the ball and the inner back of the circle, that's where the reactor is, im at the left most side, may take me a minute to reach it, but I can get there without being seen. My plan was to quickly fix and rewrite a Vulture droid's code to go with my command, not going to be the best work but it will work, hopefully. I had to act fast because I knew there were going to be hundreds more droids to come to see the commotion, I'd say within the minute. The codes used on the droids are not the best, because of mass production, so It was an easy fix, I just needed it to fly a small bit. It comes back to life with a putt to its movement, I directed it to start flying while I'm on its back, putting the whole time with smoke, just what I needed. I start to move forward as fast as possible. As we get around the hundreds of battle droids below, I'm starting to speed up, and as I see the reactor room, I could hear B1's yell " HEY! STOP! YOUR GOING TO FAST" in their robotic voice. Before I hit the Shield covering the reactor room, I jump off to the left where the blast door is for the room. With the distraction of the droid smashing into the shield, I use this time to slowly cut through the blast doors with both sabers starting at the bottom of the door, going up and around to form a circle I can fit through. I was through within a Minute, unnoticed, or so I was led to believe. When I get into the reactor room, I throw explosives all over the reactors, with a detonation in T minus 1 minute. I fly out of the room, calling for 411 to bring my ship as fast as possible, 55. Running across the hanger, I'm spotted by the hundreds of battle droids, which immediately start firing right as they see me 50. The explosion of the fighter droid caused a chain to nearby explosive barrels, exploding more Vulture droids causing tons of smoke and fires to spread around the hangar area, 45. As I'm running, my yellow saber is blocking multiple bolts flying at me while I'm jumping, spinning, performing acrobatic movements while being shot by hundreds of droids, from B1's, to super's, to droideka's, all firing at me, adding to the smoke, 35. Running with young blood in my veins, I perform 1, 2, 3 long jumps and leap onto the side of a slanted destroyed Vulture droid, 30. I jump up, reaching for the cloudy sky just as 411 swoops in predictively shoving my hand into the side of the sharp A-wing hull, 25. I grab the side of the hull and pull myself up into the cockpit, grabbing the controls, 20. I spin to the exit with roughly 67° of the hanger I need to shoot out of, I fire the afterburners using the circumference of the circle and my fighters movment to my advantage, 15. Pushing forward, I am drifting an A-wing around the hangar of a Separatist capital ship skimming the walls centimeters away from an explosive fiery death, 10. I barely screamed out of the hanger, to be able to see a view of the capital ship flying stright for the other Sepie capital ship, 5. Im still firing the afterburners to try and attempt to get a safe distance away from the soon to be collision sight, 4. I let 411 take the control's, 3. I turn my head to look back, 2. I see the collision of the 2 270° hangers, 1. I watch as i get the view of a star being formed right infront of my eyes, and seeing many Sepie Cruisers being absolutely engulfed by the flames, and a blast wave decimating the Vulture droids… blast wave…. BLAST WAVE! Just then I'm thrown far, along with the debri. I manged to gain control of the craft and start performing advanced monuvers to avoid being hit by debrie that will demolishe me and my tiny fighter. 

"Saya, can you hear me? Saya?" Master Obi-Wan Kenobi pleaded.
"Yeah, yeah master, I'm good, I'm fine. Woo…!" I said with a sigh of relief.
Chapter 3

 The explosion had decimated the Separatist forces leaving 4 Cruisers sustaining heavy or mild damages, but with an opening, Obi-Wan and I travel to the ground along with Captain Cody to go for a large ground assault. Master Obi-Wan's plan was to drop in and gather our troops and split them between Obi-Wan and commander Cody. We were west, they were east. The Separatists had the high ground seeing as they had a cliff to their advantage. Flying in on gunships, we were taking heavy fire from their anti aircraft cannons. Commander Cody and I are debriefing the squad on the way to the rally point, seeing gunships after gunship falling to the rocky ground in a fiery explosive ball of red hot metal, and screams, with no plants in sight, just rocks, gunships, and red streaks flying by. Explosions booming right next to us with our doors right open. We have been ordered and ordering troops to stay far away from the mountain top gun fortifying the mountain top of the cliff, leaving that gun for the gunships and the best of the clone troopers, or ARC (Advanced Recon Commandos) troopers to deal with that later, seeing as a ground assault is too dangerous for us. As some of the clones have said, it's not an easy mission, but hops are high. 

"30 seconds until landing." A clone trooper yelled to me and Cody.
Cody starts with "All right, listen up! Maintain squad formations, 'A' squad, You're on me-" ZZZZZEEEROW- BOOOM!
"Where hit!" I yell "Everyone! Hold on!"
Before we hit the ground I leap out of the gunship with a backwards somersault, force pulling all the troops out of the burning fireball heading for the ground, grabbing all of the men, including the 2 pilots at the front, breaking through the windows. I land like rain from the sky, catching the troops I just pulled out with my powers and have them roughly land on the fluffy rocks next to our now downed gunship, no casualties yet. I rush over to take cover under our gunship on its left side behind enemy lines. I sit and meditate as they come up with a plan.
"What's the status lieutenant?" Cody asked
"5 injured thanks to General Saya, but that's not that bad news… Does that Rock look familiar?" The lieutenant asked.
"Yea, the mountain, right where we're not supposed to be." Said Cody
"General Kenobi ordered us not to try taking this section from the ground." The lieutenant regenerated back again with what was already established.
"That's what he said…but what would the general do if he were here?" Cody rhetorically asked.
"Saya sir, what do you think?" A trooper asked me somewhat desperately.
"I think Cody should take this one, I've got your back Cody." I answered with my legs crossed, eyes closed, slightly levitating over the rocks.
"Eight-Eight-Six-Seven through Eight-Eight-Six-Nine and Saya, fix your grapples and come with me. Everybody, prepare for covering fire." Cody ordered.
I get up, eyes still shut, ready to block anything coming our way.
"NOW!" Cody yells, sprinting across what is our no-man's-land
I open my eyes, ignite my Sabers, Green in left, yellow in right, and dash towards the now incoming blaster fire. I sense it, left side, block, right side, deflect, one for Cody, deflected. We get to some stalagmites at the bottom of the mountain, sustaining heavy fire, I pose as a distraction for all the fire, deflecting as many blots as I can back at the metal men. One troop trips and falls, pow, bolt straight through the head. Cody and the men shoot the grappling hooks up towards the top of the mountain and start climbing. I jump from my spot reigniting my sabers, driving them through the mountain side, helping me grab hold with my feet. And when I look up, I see a grapple fall behind me. I tried to grab the rope but I was too late. When I managed to obtain it, he had already hit the ground. Another tragedy, one that never had to happen, life being wasted away. I look up, a droid stairs emotionlessly down into my emotion filled eyes. A blue bolt shoots past me, impacting the droid's head, sending the body backwards.
Cody and the other clone rises from the cliff side as I leap up from the side, landing in front of the clones and immediately start deflecting with my 2 sabers having nothing pass. Cody takes this opportunity to run around my defense and attacks the droids head on, bashing one droid with the butt of his rifle and swinging his rifle at another, destroying both of them. The droid manning the anti aircraft gun turns and aims at Cody. Instinctively I jump in front of the cannon as it fires, I deflect the large bolt away with my right yellow saber, knocking my body to the right, making me stumble. But with the motion throwing me to the right, I use the momentum to throw my green saber with my left hand, impaling the droid in the metal chest. Cody then hops onto the turret, points the gun at the droids firing at our men, and lets loose, destroying all in its reticle.
"Thanks General, I owe you one, ill getcha next time." Cody said slowly getting off the turret.
"You're alright my friend, just pay it forward, let's go see how Obi-Wan did." I slightly worried, staring off to the north.

 We group up at the randevu, where we have set base camp on the planet in a small raven a bit away from where we captured the cliff with some makeshift scouting towers dotted around our position. Obi-Wan had more resistance than what he had anticipated, he was a little banged up, but he was fine in the end. This was a huge victory seeing as we have been able to set base on a planet that allows us to get resources through this hyperspace route and onto parts of the army past this point. Before, General Grievous snipped our route to where we couldn't get resources to our army on the other side from Coruscant. 

Chapter 4

 12 hours later, we have rested and have managed to build up a good base incase of a surprise attack. We are still fighting a few fronts of Separatist holdouts with a fortress a few klicks west, or about 4 miles west. 

I sit in my tent meditating, reflecting back on the weeks events, and what Ahsoka was doing back at the temple, training hard. I recite what I did with an almost overwhelming amount of blaster fire attempting to fly into me, how I was just mostly averting the blots away from me and not in a direction that would benefit me most.
'RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE'

 The ground started to shake out of nowhere, breaking my peace. I rush out of my tent, only to be met with a face full of B2 battle droid. I jump back over my tent flipping onto my feet as I see my tent being lit into flames from heavy bolt fire flying at me. Igniting both my sabers, I deflect the incoming fire away from me up into the sky as much as I physically could. I took a glance around, it was becoming more sunlit as we fought. It was a slaughter, clones dying left and right, Kenobi was on the Command ship getting patched, so it was just me, and the clones down here, being manicured. With a swift right step, I change lightsaber form, combining my form 3, (defensive form blocking anything coming way, and either making, or waiting for an opening to strike) with a combination of form 2 (saber to saber form, putting least amount or saber movement and preferring precise efficient movements) and form 4 (saber from using the force to enhance physical abilities, and heavily utilizing fast acrobatic movements to move around and disorient the opponents, using wide sweeping saber movements to block and hit targets) I use the power if the many bolts to propel my body onto my right leg, crouching down and taking a huge lead in to the air. Looking around like it is moving in stop motion, I see thousands of droids around, completely outnumbering my men. Glancing down where I had jumped from, there seems to be a super battle droid rising from the ground, looking as if it has been there for at least a few days. Time seems to start like normal again, immediately I have to block bolts coming for my body, twisting, turning, deflecting every. single. bolt. right to another droid. I can't have any more unneeded deaths in my hands. I land with an impactful explosion of yellow lighting, rendering half of the electronics on the field obsolete. Shots fire over the wall, exploding near me. 

"Everyone, Retreat!" I yelled into the comms.
I ran towards the lieutenant that I had survived the crash with, he was running for a troop transport.
"Get to the ships, return to the Venators! Get Kenobi and relay what has happened!" Urgency blowing through my voice.

 I push him into the ship as it takes off. As it's doing so, I force push it away from the field as to be in less danger of being shot down. But rockets fly through the air, I reach through the force and grab onto the hurdling death traps, I grab 1, 2, crash them into one another, 3, grab, 4, grab, 5, miss. ERRROW… BOOOM! With a hopeless explosion, the ship bursts into an explosive ball of fire, right in front of my eyes, out of my grasp. Shots fly past my head from behind me, I ignite my sunlit yellow saber to block incoming bolts. No men, only metal remains, and it wants me dead. I dash for my ship on the other side of the airstrip, luckily barely touched from this horrible surprise party that invited everyone I very much dislike. Hopping into my A-wing, I lift-off dogging left, right, up, down, roll left, roll right, barely being passed by on all sides by cannon fire. When I reach the point past the clouds, there's a whole war above. Separatist forces have surprised Kenobi with an overwhelming number of ships, putting our war torn 12 Venators against 16 Munificent class Cruisers. We were greatly out matched. But the time I was in space we had lost 3 Vectors compared to there 1 lost. Droids noticed me coming from the planet and started to verge onto my position. 

"Obi-Wan! You there? Can you hear me?" I yelled, pulling evasive maneuvers.
"Saya, is that you?" Kenobi asked.
"Yes, we got surprised on the ground, seems the same happened here." I rushingly said.
"Yes, they came out of nowh-" Kenobi is cut off by a blaring siren from my cockpit.
"Wait, my ship is damaged, it's starting up my hyperdrive, 411 can you fix it?" I said dipping left and right while trying to stop the hyperdrive activation.
With a few bleeps of fear, I understand what's happening.
"When I was thrown from the capital ship explosive wave, I must have been hit near the hyperdrive, and explosions from my escape, along with the maneuvers I have been pulling, it may have caused damage that is registering a hyperdrive activation. Master Obi-Wan, I don't know, I-I don't know what to do!" I claimed with fear in my eyes.
"Can you deactivate the hyperdrive at all 411?" Kenobi asked
411 bleeps with a sad toon.
"Blast, Saya, does it say where you're going?"
"N- No, my council just says ERROR." I stated, now with much fear in my voice.

 I managed to steer my craft into the position of the hyperspace lane. 

"Tell Ahsoka good bye if I don't-" I get cut off when the the hyperdrive powered up woth a vvvvvvvvvvvVVVVERRRRRRR PEEOW, and just like that, me, my A-wing, and R2-411, are gone.
Chapter 5

 It's been days since the battle, mabe 2 or 3 days. Luckily I always keep many ration bars in my fighter to last me a good few days, along with my extra water and my ability to go into a deep meditative state, conserving food and water. Keeping me company is my meditation and 411. We have almost hit some unknown objects, could have been planets, asteroids, other ships, but we seem to be staying in hyperspace lanes luckily, or I would have been dead a long time ago. My class 2 hyperdrive could have taken me all over the galaxy by now, I could be heading towards Coruscant right now for all I know. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
My hyperdrive warning kicked on, showing that there is a massive gravity force in my path. The console flashed with big red dangerous letters "Exiting Hyperdrive" on the screen.
"YES! FINALLY!" I yelled with excitement.

 I watch through the glass to see a barren looking planet, and a similar looking moon, a moon I was heading to. I was moving fast, as I entered the moon's atmosphere, Im grabbing the controls, barely anything. My craft is red hot from the rate at which I'm coming in on. I'm grabbing the stick, pulling back as much as I can, as to try and save myself and 411 from a fiery death. I scraped by a big rocky mountain dealing more damage to my A-wing. 

"HOLD ON 411!"
"Come ooooon. Pull pull pullllll…. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!-" VERRROW BOOOOSH!!! The crash landing sounded like a bomb flying through the air, then landing on its target. I try to get from my seat just to find my strap and window will not open. Using my saber I cut off my seat strap and broke the window from the hinges and leaped out, taking 411 from the craft, swiftly landing on a tall mountainous rock. The craft seemed to have pushed through the land 50 meters from the initial impact spot. The area I was in seemed to be very rocky terrain with many rocky canyons and huge rocks that are almost mountainous. The sun was close to setting down for the night but was still a good hour away from sleeping.

 With the force by my side, I felt a very uneasy sensation telling me to stay out of sight. I duck down on the tall skinny rock taking 411 down with me. 411 confusingly bleeps when I do so. "Hey, I have a feeling right now, just keep quiet real quick, there's somebody coming. Trust me." Me and 411 peer over the edge looming over my crashed ship just as a group of 6 men in full armor covering their whole body fly in with jetpacks strapped to their backs, blasters in hand. As they land, they search around my wreckage, presumably looking for survivors. One seems to be ordering the others around, pointing at one to look in one direction, another a different direction, and scanning around for the unexpected visitor. I look down at my Wrist link, my distress signal wasn't sent, I guess that was damaged from entering the planet at such high speed with no deflector shields surrounding the ship like a protective blanket. 

"Blast, 411, what's your S.O.S signal situation, did it go through?" 411 beeps with a little drama like I should know it didn't go through.
"Well sorry for busting your rusty bolts you rowdy rancor, better to try than to just give up mister sassy pants. Maybe I should wipe your memory for a change, see how you like it."
"Now shush, don't want them to find us spying on them, won't look too good." I demand. "Now here, in case we get caught, I don't want them to know I'm a Jedi, so here, take my sabers, I'm not gonna need them anyways." I said shoving my lightsabers into 411's storage compartment and looking towards the crash again.

 Just then the suit of armor that had been commanding his squad bursts up into my view right on my face out of hyperspace blue. 

"Ah, found ya trespassers, you 2 are coming with me." Demanded the Mandalorian with a snickering sound in his voice as the others rise from the portal of the abyss from down below.

 It was a good thing my ropes where in the tent back on Sarrish, or this may have been an even worse situation, Mangalorians like them hate Jedi with a passion, and it's a good thing I always have a broken blaster in 411 for any cases where I need to blend in with a crowd or pose as a normal civilian; although, the ability to become a civilian at any point is great, I've had little need to do so much. I'm quite popular with the people for being one who tries to connect with the population as a fellow citizen. So I rarely stay in the temple for too long. I love being with the people and learning skills without the force, like being a mechanic, electrician, public speaker, security guard, an all around great person to talk with about anything. I'm quite known on all levels of Coruscant for being one of the most friendly Jedi to be around. Right now though, I need to focus on not being caught, at least That's what my gut is telling me. After they searched my character for any weapons and found the broken blaster that 411 had put in my holster where my lightsaber usually is, they were satisfied and pushed us into one of their big Kom'rk Mark 1 class Mandalorian starfightetransport ship. 

(Look in comments for 6th paragraph)

I never expected to end up this way. Frankly, who would? No one, really. A corpse hanging on a sharpened meat hook in an industrial, walk-in cooler is an unpleasant ‘final destination’. It’s freezing in this place but fortunately I no longer feel the pain. I don’t sense anything, actually. Thank goodness for that. Bitterness is my only emotion now. At least the other slabs of meat around me are talkative. That’s something, I guess. I just wish we had a little more in common besides being dead, and destined for the common fate of becoming ‘food’.
They talk incessantly about escaping the cold room. Where would they go if they did, and how would they achieve such a difficult feat? We’re frozen solid! Our muscles and joints are stiff. Hanging here in the meat locker has made us incredibly weak. They don’t think beyond their primal instinct to get revenge. It’s madness. I remind them the surest hope of success for us comes from a solid plan. We must bide our time wisely and then act with a uniform set of long-term goals. After some heated discussion and debate, I think they are finally on-board.
The walls of the cooler are heavily insulated but occasionally, sounds of the outside world leak through. A powerful spring storm is in full force. The dim light above us flickers. The near-constant rush of blizzard-like refrigeration ceased a little while ago. Our prayers have been answered. The power is out! Condensation began forming on the exterior walls as the temperature inside warms. My group of meathook companions grew excited by the fortunate turn of events. They flexed their muscles ever-so-slightly as our frozen muscles and joints thaw out.
I’m cautiously optimistic. It’s a good sign, but doesn’t mean anything until one of us can pull ourselves off the hooks and ambush them when they return. Numerous variables need to align. It’s a long shot. As a team, we needed to wait patiently. Then will come our chance to strike without mercy. Several had limbered up a bit but one individual finally managed to get himself fully free. He helped the rest of us down from our meathooks. The freezer door locks from the other side so we’ve readied ourselves for the blitz.
Boom! The meat locker opened and we furiously charged the door. Our captor didn’t even know what hit him. Instead of extracting immediate revenge, we simply elected to free ourselves from the bloody tyranny. Our herd pummeled the front door and we raced frantically for the hills. Ah, victory! to chew lush green grass again! That’s the sweetest ending any cow or bull could hope for.

I never expected to end up this way. Frankly, who would? No one, really. A corpse hanging on a sharpened meat hook in an industrial, walk-in cooler is an unpleasant ‘final destination’. It’s freezing in this place but fortunately I no longer feel the pain. I don’t sense anything, actually. Thank goodness for that. Bitterness is my only emotion now. At least the other slabs of meat around me are talkative. That’s something, I guess. I just wish we had a little more in common besides being dead, and destined for the common fate of becoming ‘food’.
They talk incessantly about escaping the cold room. Where would they go if they did, and how would they achieve such a difficult feat? We’re frozen solid! Our muscles and joints are stiff. Hanging here in the meat locker has made us incredibly weak. They don’t think beyond their primal instinct to get revenge. It’s madness. I remind them the surest hope of success for us comes from a solid plan. We must bide our time wisely and then act with a uniform set of long-term goals. After some heated discussion and debate, I think they are finally on-board.
The walls of the cooler are heavily insulated but occasionally, sounds of the outside world leak through. A powerful spring storm is in full force. The dim light above us flickers. The near-constant rush of blizzard-like refrigeration ceased a little while ago. Our prayers have been answered. The power is out! Condensation began forming on the exterior walls as the temperature inside warms. My group of meathook companions grew excited by the fortunate turn of events. They flexed their muscles ever-so-slightly as our frozen muscles and joints thaw out.
I’m cautiously optimistic. It’s a good sign, but doesn’t mean anything until one of us can pull ourselves off the hooks and ambush them when they return. Numerous variables need to align. It’s a long shot. As a team, we needed to wait patiently. Then will come our chance to strike without mercy. Several had limbered up a bit but one individual finally managed to get himself fully free. He helped the rest of us down from our meathooks. The freezer door locks from the other side so we’ve readied ourselves for the blitz.
Boom! The meat locker opened and we furiously charged the door. Our captor didn’t even know what hit him. Instead of extracting immediate revenge, we simply elected to free ourselves from the bloody tyranny. Our herd pummeled the front door and we raced frantically for the hills. Ah, victory! to chew lush green grass again! That’s the sweetest ending any cow or bull could hope for.

I never expected to end up this way. Frankly, who would? No one, really. A corpse hanging on a sharpened meat hook in an industrial, walk-in cooler is an unpleasant ‘final destination’. It’s freezing in this place but fortunately I no longer feel the pain. I don’t sense anything, actually. Thank goodness for that. Bitterness is my only emotion now. At least the other slabs of meat around me are talkative. That’s something, I guess. I just wish we had a little more in common besides being dead, and destined for the common fate of becoming ‘food’.
They talk incessantly about escaping the cold room. Where would they go if they did, and how would they achieve such a difficult feat? We’re frozen solid! Our muscles and joints are stiff. Hanging here in the meat locker has made us incredibly weak. They don’t think beyond their primal instinct to get revenge. It’s madness. I remind them the surest hope of success for us comes from a solid plan. We must bide our time wisely and then act with a uniform set of long-term goals. After some heated discussion and debate, I think they are finally on-board.
The walls of the cooler are heavily insulated but occasionally, sounds of the outside world leak through. A powerful spring storm is in full force. The dim light above us flickers. The near-constant rush of blizzard-like refrigeration ceased a little while ago. Our prayers have been answered. The power is out! Condensation began forming on the exterior walls as the temperature inside warms. My group of meathook companions grew excited by the fortunate turn of events. They flexed their muscles ever-so-slightly as our frozen muscles and joints thaw out.
I’m cautiously optimistic. It’s a good sign, but doesn’t mean anything until one of us can pull ourselves off the hooks and ambush them when they return. Numerous variables need to align. It’s a long shot. As a team, we needed to wait patiently. Then will come our chance to strike without mercy. Several had limbered up a bit but one individual finally managed to get himself fully free. He helped the rest of us down from our meathooks. The freezer door locks from the other side so we’ve readied ourselves for the blitz.
Boom! The meat locker opened and we furiously charged the door. Our captor didn’t even know what hit him. Instead of extracting immediate revenge, we simply elected to free ourselves from the bloody tyranny. Our herd pummeled the front door and we raced frantically for the hills. Ah, victory! to chew lush green grass again! That’s the sweetest ending any cow or bull could hope for.

I never expected to end up this way. Frankly, who would? No one, really. A corpse hanging on a sharpened meat hook in an industrial, walk-in cooler is an unpleasant ‘final destination’. It’s freezing in this place but fortunately I no longer feel the pain. I don’t sense anything, actually. Thank goodness for that. Bitterness is my only emotion now. At least the other slabs of meat around me are talkative. That’s something, I guess. I just wish we had a little more in common besides being dead, and destined for the common fate of becoming ‘food’.
They talk incessantly about escaping the cold room. Where would they go if they did, and how would they achieve such a difficult feat? We’re frozen solid! Our muscles and joints are stiff. Hanging here in the meat locker has made us incredibly weak. They don’t think beyond their primal instinct to get revenge. It’s madness. I remind them the surest hope of success for us comes from a solid plan. We must bide our time wisely and then act with a uniform set of long-term goals. After some heated discussion and debate, I think they are finally on-board.
The walls of the cooler are heavily insulated but occasionally, sounds of the outside world leak through. A powerful spring storm is in full force. The dim light above us flickers. The near-constant rush of blizzard-like refrigeration ceased a little while ago. Our prayers have been answered. The power is out! Condensation began forming on the exterior walls as the temperature inside warms. My group of meathook companions grew excited by the fortunate turn of events. They flexed their muscles ever-so-slightly as our frozen muscles and joints thaw out.
I’m cautiously optimistic. It’s a good sign, but doesn’t mean anything until one of us can pull ourselves off the hooks and ambush them when they return. Numerous variables need to align. It’s a long shot. As a team, we needed to wait patiently. Then will come our chance to strike without mercy. Several had limbered up a bit but one individual finally managed to get himself fully free. He helped the rest of us down from our meathooks. The freezer door locks from the other side so we’ve readied ourselves for the blitz.
Boom! The meat locker opened and we furiously charged the door. Our captor didn’t even know what hit him. Instead of extracting immediate revenge, we simply elected to free ourselves from the bloody tyranny. Our herd pummeled the front door and we raced frantically for the hills. Ah, victory! to chew lush green grass again! That’s the sweetest ending any cow or bull could hope for.

My budget is 140k and I will pay 4K to 16K depending on how well the job is done
What I am looking for is as follows
Colors: Baby Pink, White, & Gold

• Realistic

Exterior design: * Large French Country Style

• Five story
  
• 2 car garage
  
• Whole house is stone or brick
  
• Numerous wall trim details especially white wood panels
  
• Numerous interior locations for stone & brick (an entire wall, a hallway, cased openings, etc.)
  
• Exotic tile like white marble
  

Exterior features:

• Specialty landscape items like water features, dry creek beds, etc.
• Many trees (preferably palm ones)
  
• Wrap around Porch
  
• Porch Swing
  
• Patio
  
• Gas Lanterns
  
• Large Entertaining Area with tv
  
• Outdoor Kitchen with Oven
  
• Sustainable Food/Herb Garden With lots of planters and a hose
  
• Good Lighting
  
• Security Cameras all around the house
  
• Courtyard with fountain
  
• Governor’s Driveway/ circle driveway
  
• Lots of Natural Lights
  
• Large Windows
  
• Window Seat/ Bay window
  
• Arched Doorways
  
• French Doors
  
• Wide Doors
  
• Wide Hallways
  
• Large Family Room, Kitchen, Dining Room for Family Gatherings
  

Lighting: * Beautiful Chandeliers
Kitchen must haves:

• Large Island
  
• Double Island
  
• Marble Countertops
  
• Waterfall Countertop
  
• White Cabinets
  
• Gold Hardware
  
• Huge Dish Cabinet with Glass Doors
  
• Kitchen Linens Closet
  
• Farm style sink
  
• Window above Sink
  
• Hidden baby pink Microwave
  
• 2 pink baby pink Dishwashers
  
• Custom Baby pink hood
  
• Oven
  
• Coffee Machine
  
• Refrigerator
  
• Blender
  
• 2 trash cans
  

Pantry:

• Door from Pantry to Garage
  
• Sink
  
• Second Fridge
  

Dining room:

• Fireplace
  
• Closet for guest Linens and Dishes
  
• Large for Family Gatherings
  

Laundry room:

• Laundry Shoot
  
• Folding Counter or Island
  
• Ironing board
  
• Washing machines and dryer etc
  

Mud Space near front door: * Lockers for each family member

• Storage Shelves for Shoes

Master Bedroom:

• Fireplace
  
• Balcony
  
• TV at Foot of the Bed
  
• Private Sitting Room Attached
  

Master closet: * Large Walk in closet

• Shoe Wall (made with pictures or a bunch of slippers)
  
• Dressing Room
  
• Sunglass Drawer
  
• Jewelry holders
  
• Luxurious Carpet
  
• Chandelier
  

Master bathroom: * Toilets

• Bidet
  
• Steam ShoweSauna
  
• Shower Head
  
• Gold Faucets
  
• Seat in shower
  
• Makeup Counter or Vanity
  
• 2 Sinks
  

Garage: * Recycling Center with 2 trash cans

• 2 Car Garage
  
• Extra Tall Garage Doors
  
• Cabinets for Storage
  
• Door to Backyard
  

Other: * Bar

• Room for indoor pool and jet pool
  
• Fitness room/home gym
  
• Game room with Billard table
  
• Home library
  
• Mud room
  
• Spa room
  
• Home Theater
  
• Office/Study Room
  
• Nursery