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DRONE POV:
DRONE POV:
TARGET LOCK. SHOOT. COLLIDE. OUT.
BACK TO:
As drone flow is reduced, AA Batteries SHRED the bunch trapped inside.
Sounds of outside DRONE FIRE against almost closed BLAST DOORS.
Alarm noises STOP (alarm lights keep ON). RINGS rise to 'working' position.
People emerge from cover, put down FIRES (FLAMING WRECKAGE et al).
BROOKS opens her bunker's door.
(the Blast Doors might sport some kind of basic SHIELDING that spreads/dilutes the effect of beam FIRE)
Watching blurry/jumpy KINO Feeds:
Welcome back!
Giving her helmet to a tech:
She navigates spent AutoCannons to the exit. Additional supplies GATE IN.
In a side corridor, vapor/smoke blasts/streams/vents until a DOOR (automatically) CLOSES.
Ahead, the main corridor is BLOCKED by a substantial fire + FIREFIGHTERS putting it out.
One of her ASSISTANTS (guided by a neo-kino) intercepts BROOKS, helps her push the crate to a LIFT.
With both inside, LIFT door closes. BROOKS wastes no time unsealing the crate, getting its LID off.
The lift door opens. AHEAD is the STASIS SECTION, 1 of its doors light-up.
LongBow POV (tinted REDDISH): SHOOT faraway target thru drone curtain. Drones ahead SWEPT by AutoCannon beams. Command Ship ahead, trying to EVADE. (REDDER). Drones trying to intercept get pierced. RUPTURE Command Ship: Flames ERUPT. (TOO RED). FRIED.
Other LongBow BEAMS exit the (wavering) dronestorm towards their targets.
Keying Console:
Another Command Ship ICON IMPLODES.
Whoohoo!
Piloting/firing:
Piece of cake!
Piloting:
C'mon, show yourselves!
(computer VOICE, only slightly distorted)
Why has little sis' Last Will and Testament been pre-activated?
MARSHALL and RILEY eye each other.
CHAIRMAN DEACTIVATES the POD. With the door barely out of the way:
The assistants GRAB the inert GINN and quickly DRAG her headfirst halfway outside, over the stretcher.
BROOKS swiftly/expertly STABS/INJECTS both sides of GINN's neck with her I.V needles, just INTO the arteries. No reaction.
T.J. hurriedly SPRAYS white 'medical' FOAM (halfway between whipped cream and cotton candy) directly INTO Ginn's bloody WOUNDS (incl. ENTRY & EXIT ones, cheek, right wrist...) It EXPANDS slightly, stopping ALL bleeding.
Taking a small SENSOR PACK out a pocket:
The assistants LOOSEN the torso pieces of Ginn's armor suit. BROOKS slides the SENSOR PACK (trailing cables?) DOWN GINN's chest to her heart. Still no visible reaction.
CHAIRMAN can barely stand to watch as GINN's limp, armor-suited & bloodied body is entirely PULLED out of the Stasis Pod, STRAPPED to the stretcher. T.J. 'foams' leg WOUNDS.
The assistants HOOK the I.V. blood-bags to hovering mini-kinos, direct the stretcher to FLOAT UP to waist height.
PAD in hand, keying:
PAD SCREEN: Ginn's vital signs, all over the place. Heartrate particularly WILD.
With everybody around the stretcher, CHAIRMAN holding Ginn's left hand, one of the assistants INJECTS a clear liquid into the I.V. tubing going to GINN's neck, while the other LOOSENS more pieces of her armor suit.
GINN OPENS her eyes WIDE. GASPS (painfully) for air. COUGHS BLOOD.
Main Guns FIRE repeatedly. Until finally:
1 Command Ship is HIT, EXPLODES. The other JUMPS OUT. Remaining active drones become DORMANT (& ballistic!). Soon as they stop firing, Destiny holds fire too (except to prevent drones SMASHING into hull).
Battle OVER.
Keying Console:
Re: Console:
GINN Consciousness ('idealized', from Console)
My beautiful Eli! Always the optimist!
GATE DEACTIVATES.
As RILEY keys his PAD, spent AutoCannons start FLOATING upwards from their piles (incl. those waiting in corridors).
RING ACTIVATES, starts SPINNING.
Riley's PAD flashes.
He runs to exit. Ring LOCKS.
Getting up:
Colonel!? Permission to...!
I'll continue with the repairs.
As the others hurry to exit:
Alone, he STRETCHES a bit, looks around, PATS the Console, then (slowly) walks to the exit.
In the corridor, CHLOE and SCOTT share a passionate KISS.
As they notice him WALKING past:
Reviewing Console:
As the Monitor completes its survey:
As he (gently) takes her hand, GINN opens her eyes, then closes them again, half-smiles.
(grins)
We've already been there, love, remember?
(blinking eyes)
And got nothing, you and Marshall, I know. You were powerless... But that was before...
But... Ginn!?
She's reliving the past!?
BROOKS checks Ginn's body SCHEMATIC on Ancient SCREEN, with lots of ALARMS/WARNINGS.
Confusion and short-term memory loss are to be expected. That she's talking at all is a pretty good sign.
(sleepy?)
We can do better now, we can crown Pittsburgh Project right where it started, where it should have...
(worried)
Wake up, Ginn! Love, wake up!
What's she talking about? 'Pittsburgh'...?
(time's over)
Go talk elsewhere. We're gonna repair a few major vessels here. Call you when we're done. Perhaps don't watch the kino feed for a while.
(hesitant)
But I should stay... and help?
CHAIRMAN and T.J. walk OUT (with the OTHERS waiting at door). There's now (besides the unconscious 'relay' tech) another 6-8 beds with newly INJURED patients (crew & Novan, in various states of 'repair') with kinos (Novan & Ancient) HOVERING around.
At the 'captain' table, a more subdued talk amid brisk eating. SCOTT and CHLOE side by side. T.J. and YOUNG briefly smile at each other across the table.
Riley's PAD screen shows up-close SURGICAL LASERS at work.
Taking Riley's PAD:
Lemme that. She's sedated. Her readings are stable. If Novan medicine is so good now, I don't see...
Auntie Ginn says 'sis' was reckless, but it wasn't her fault that they couldn't Gate out, and...
Keeping an eye on his PAD:
Spill the beans, Iron-man. 'Pittsburgh' is no secret anymore.
Enjoying the Earth-like food:
Your wish!
Not quite eating:
It's always been a little private... joke, really. You see, our gating there shortly after leaving Destiny was bold, yet foolish.
(nonchalant?)
And, whose idea was it?
Some CHUCKLES.
(cool)
There must have been a good reason, then.
(sober)
Taking down a Command Ship with just a few small weapons, and laying hands on a working FTL drive? Brilliant concept. But the details almost got us killed. That shortcut was closed.
(smiling)
It sounded epic when you told us kids, uncle Marshall, on our visits to your secret lab! Ginn-sis was always pestering you for details and mocking you and uncle Wally when your tales didn't match.
A secret lab? This keeps getting better!
Well, his work needed peace and quiet, away from Novus and the newspapers. Marshall kept things running while I was busy playing consumer tech whiz, gathering funds and wills.
(winks?)
I had to disguise the money our military sales were making, and a reputation to keep.
What books?
So, why call it 'Project Pittsburgh' at all?
Ginn-sis' idea. It started the summer she decided to stay and work with uncle Marshall on FTL prototypes instead of going back to Novus and her pre-University studies.
I only managed to persuade her on a promise to flee if things got too bad due to the Black Hole.
(cool)
And with good reason, I presume.
But turned out well? Looking at her achievements...
(jealous?)
Ginn-sis always exceeded expectations. All her teachers said so, including aunties and uncles.
It was no surprise when she inherited Marshall's lab: She already ruled the place by the time he died.
MARSHALL almost not reacting to the 'old' news.
Including you?
Of course you wouldn't!
SMIRKS.
And her projects? She got them too?
(nods)
Our own drone fleet.
As others DIGEST:
Cloaks!?
That was me, when she revealed all she wanted to do. The risks she was ready to brave...
(beat)
...for us.
I researched cloaking devices with Earth's help, via the Stones. Not really practical for small fry like a drone.
Auntie Ginn said the same. Once we started subverting loads of 'em critters, there was only one way to go.
(lightbulb)
Command Ships!? Wow!
(wonders)
How??
To better be able to defeat 'em.
Which is great from both economic and military perspectives.
(points)
Or you and she!
More SMILES.
So, you went around taking Command Ships?
Oh, yeah: Starting with the one that razed down 'Pittsburgh', and ending with the one that killed the Ursini.
Wasn't that easy: Despite our surgical approach, half of them got destroyed instead of captured.
Must have been quite a romp. How I envy you!
Man, I'd have paid to see that!
Such as?
What? You mean there's different kinds of those things? Like plants, and animals?
More like nearly identical, but not exact, bloodlines. Small differences in design, materials, build process...
Which would explain why not all can be destroyed, or disabled, the same way. I always suspected it.
And why they cannot take over each other's drones?
(thumps table)
Hah! I knew it!
The entire swarm shares intel-gathering and decision-making. They act as a single brain. An independent entity.
Kill enough of it, the remainder loses the ability and even the will to go on. Unless there's a threat they can tackle without thinking.
Creepy.
So they don't actually... mutate and evolve?
Or so we hope.
MUNCHING.
So you could have destroyed 'em all, and ended this... war before it started?
Alas, no. Every time we acted, others would quickly come to check. We've risked alerting them with each raid.
That's why you didn't save 'Pittsburgh', the city?
We didn't dare, lest the enemy changed tactics. We warned 'em of danger coming, tho, to keep subspace and EM usage at a minimum, to evac people and valuables, but they didn't quite react until it was almost too late.
FLASHBACK:
We helped 'em with our cloaks, evacuating people, rescuing isolated groups, and all. Videos of the near disaster helped persuade other worlds to play it safe, even the reluctant ones like Noctis.
END FLASHBACK
SILENT RUMINATION.
So, has anything been left of all that effort? Besides ... her?
Well, actually...
We've lost all but 2 of the new 'recruits', and only Ginn-sis' flagship with a Gate. The others successfully Jumped away, with various damage.
You put Gates on 'em!?
You see, we really want to win the war.
RUSH approaches, PAD in hand. Gives it to YOUNG. SCREEN shows replenishing enemy staging area.
Destiny cannot fight anymore. Even with enough repairs, we'll be outgunned and destroyed by the next wave.
As the PAD circulates, everybody considers the 20+ ENEMY ICONS already gathered.
What repairs?
(firm)
I find Dr. Rush's logic overwhelming.
DREAM/FLASHBACk:
MARSHALL (not so old, already w/eyepatch) with his child son.
PAD SCREEN:
KINO FOOTAGE OF:
KINO HIT & OFF.
From door, in Military Nurse uniform:
From the door, CHAIRMAN watches BROOKS & her (replacement) assistants tend to GINN. T.J. asleep on an unused bed. Other patients sleeping too.
On track and on schedule. Having second thoughts?
Repairs are going well, but then what? Fighting again, over and over, at each stop, isn't a workable tactic.
FLASHBACK:
Think our waiting to flee just as they reached shooting range will make a difference? Our FTL envelope cannot have shredded more than a couple dozen at most.
END FLASHBACK
We gained time, and we also know what their next wave looks like. Every little bit counts.
Are we still playing chicken, or poker?
Novans + MARSHALL around a DOWNED/stoned DRONE, several Rog spears + sizable arrows PROTRUDING from it.
There's no survivors, at all?
FLOATING in the air before him: a 3D HOLOGRAPH (not unlike Destiny's ones) of a LongBow and its PARTS (some with labels), slowly combining & recombining, rotating leisurely in several directions at once, showing HEAT & ENERGY flows.
HIS SCREEN(s): A CAD-like 3D-modeling program, showing WIREFRAMES/SCHEMATICS of several LongBow (re)designs, parts, providers, prices, times... Another window titled "Running Simulation Test" displays a stream of text lines like:
Optimal energy transfer: STABLE
--- Entering damage variation 496 of 2874 ---
Estimated time to failure: 101.814 seconds
Calculating new peak yield: 48%
Feedback: NEGATIVE
and
Heat flow distortion: CONTAINED...
A small window (in a corner) titled "Personal Agenda" shows the (static) AVATAR of a cute BRUNETTE.
I know, princess. (pause) When this is over, ok? I already told... (pause) Kisses for you too.
As he disconnects, his smile vanishes. With an impatient gesture of his hand to the 3D HOLO, he makes it EXPAND & SURROUND him. Pointing/touching with a finger (towards CAMERA), he then SELECTS a single part of the entire assemblage.
(points)
The Tombstones are faintly radioactive and older than Novus. Add that to the carbonfiber strings on their bows, and the glass-metal composite of their arrow- and spear-heads. Quite a puzzle, huh?
SWITCH TO:
# Marshall's DESK.
Hot damn!
Emergency breather
masks / canisters.
1 unit = 20 mins
Hand on boy JUNIOR's shoulder:
Part-assembled? neo-kino in hand:
Internal bleeding's under control. We've fixed what we could, but she needs to spend the next 2-3 months at the Hospital with the bio-engineers.
Early to tell, but everything should be ok once she's in the right hands with proper facilities.
REVIEWING medical SCREEN with Ginn's body SCHEMATIC:
She'll need a brand new hand, kidney and ovary. Liver, muscles, and shoulder bones should be easier to regrow. Thigh's a flesh wound, but bone was nicked, and will need serious
(points)
rehab. Intestines, nerves and the rest I'll leave for the bio-engineers to evaluate. She was very lucky: her aorta was nicked too, and it's a miracle it didn't burst. Also her uterus, but don't worry, the babies are all right.
(points)
Yeah. Twins, by the looks of 'em. About 3 months old, though that's not my specialty.
(firm)
You heard me. We need to rework our protocols too: Timetables are all wrong for this kind of injuries. And those Stasis Pods look like they could be very useful. Our experts should start studying them ASAP.
Lucky our experts are smart, then. Now be a dear, go rest elsewhere. Call you when she wakes up, ok?
A lightly aged Stone-ported TEAL'C (in Novan gear) POINTS with a local version of his usual STAFF (also with a white FLAG).
There!
Barely visible on the distant plains, a small alien CITY straddles a meandering (part-frozen) RIVER.
There's 3 or 4 Swarms hitting each Depot now. Evacuations well underway. You still wanna wait till there's more of 'em?
You once asked for a bit more time to find a way to beat 'em drones. I've had 50 years, not counting Noctis' timelines. With no escape clause.
Your counterpart greatly contributed to our plans. So, again, thank you, Dr. Rush.
As he WALKS back to his Console, wondering, the smile VANISHES.
The group EXPLORES it.
Near its center, a modest SQUARE. TEAL'C stands, a solemn statue.
Arriving, grim:
He TAPS the ground with his staff. Sounds like WOOD.
There's a TRAPDOOR under the snow.
(foreman, gray-haired)
Not easy, in this cramped space, but the Sting'll be ready for testing in a few hours.
Turning to go:
Fishing an ALIEN COMPUTER PART out of a stone BOX:
Jackpot!
To one (far) side, MARSHALL illuminates an AGED DANIEL JACKSON, studying a set of larger TOMBSTONES, made of the same glass-metal composites as the ship-hull pieces nearby.
Carved on them, amid plenty of similar alien SCRIPTURE:
A detailed Stargate ANALYSIS/SCHEMATIC.
Not anymore: Redesign's done. Simms are crunching it. I'll send you a copy, but now I'm hitting the bed.
As he stops short of entering:
Twins!!!
The skeleton watchers eye him briefly, then resume their watching.
(grim)
An empty gesture: Her body was vaporized with the rest of her ship, 90 light years away.
Taking the offered PAD:
(half-smile)
Sort of. Earth deciphered the last piece of the puzzle: the Rog homeworld was attacked, their Dreadnoughts overwhelmed by much nimbler and far more numerous enemy gunships.
As their colonies were destroyed too, a band of refugees fled to a colder than desirable planet for a last-ditch attempt at hiding.
He eyes Noctis' far-up rocky CEILING.
(browses PAD)
It didn't quite work out, right? But they found... what were Dr. Jackson's words?
DESTINY DROPS from FTL 'behind' the planet, starts approaching it.
It's not a fully-fledged spacesuit. Life support's limited. But yeah, pretty much. You should try one someday...
YOUNG wakes up, eyes him.
(savoring the moment)
Just in time for the show! Time to invite the others to the party!?
Did you think about Chloe's idea of stashing additional AutoCannon 'reserve' spheres in free spaces inside the hull, to help with manoeuvers?
(grinning)
Yup, very clever! We'll put it into practice soon.
(checks PAD)
Not yet. We're stretching sensors at the limit, but until we get away from the gas giant's interference... It keeps 'em hidden from us same as us hidden from 'em.
CHAIRMAN seems about to say something.
CHAIRMAN is amused.
YOUNG (O.S. screens, Consoles, mics, P.A.)
Wake up, people! Another day, another fight! But first Destiny's doing some aerobraking manoeuvers around a ringed gas giant. Anyone wanting to watch, you got 10 minutes!
VIEW FROM railing: Aerobraking ended, star more-or-less ahead, Destiny's getting away from the still IMPRESSIVE SUPERGIANT and closer to the dazzling sunlit neverending RINGS. Small 'dust particles' hit the SHIELDS at high speed causing 10s of small flashes in them. AutoCannons fountaining thru remaining (partly stitched) HULL BREACHES, drifting to (hardly dense enough) positions. No LongBows at all.
Appearing into view ONE AFTER THE OTHER:
(smiling, arm around Chloe's shoulders?)
Never gets old, huh?
(smiling, but)
He didn't choose this place for the vistas.
(grinning)
I like this choice!
(nice view, but)
Chloe's right. We ain't here for pleasure.
(happy)
Speak for yourself. Best place for a
(gestures 'aerobraking' to kino)
Viking funeral I've seen in my entire life!
(as the others EYE him)
What!?
(half-smiling? checks PAD)
Just another 5 minutes...
There it is: not approaching, nor deploying.
(to ICON)
Not so eager to fight today, are we?
Hi-speed impactors.
HEAVY.
COUNTDOWN CLOCK, FROZEN.
Reviewing Console:
The blast doors are supposed to hold perhaps 6 more hours. Most people and stuff have already Gated out. But that man still wants to wait.
What for? The drones won't leave. They'll keep at it forever! Unless there's a way to save the Gates?
Keying:
Shields DEFLECT a glancing gravel blow. A sizable snowball SPLASHES against them, leaving white STREAKS that vanish/evaporate quickly.
PAD in hand:
Well done, Riley. Send everything to the fabs.
(pause)
Ok.
(to the others)
So, what do you think? Nice place, huh?
Freaking Valhalla. Jupiter and Saturn together times 10.
There's no Gate here, but we aren't exactly hiding.
Shields and hull getting hit by high-speed dust all the time. This place's dangerous.
There must be a reason for choosing this particular location. That swarm shows no intention to engage.
Where's our artillery?
YOUNG (O.S. screens, Consoles, mics, P.A.)
Alright, people! This is what we were waiting for! Everybody knows what to do!
Gently restraining her:
Not yet, Dr. You can rest a while longer.
BROOKS smiles.
Drones (except 100s of 'bodyguards') DEPLOY EN MASSE towards their target.
3 drones wander too close to the RINGS, SWERVE in the nick of time to avoid some sizable STONES, 1 of 'em gets hit by a glancing gravel BLOW. They approach Destiny's side.
Checking wristPAD:
Tweaking Console:
Suspense!?
Balls!
Surprise?
Suddenly, monitors SHOW 1 Command Ship getting BLOWN to SMITHEREENS, then another RUPTURING, BURSTING OUT.
Painstaking groundwork, and the little details.
A Command Ship buffeted by GRAVEL starts evading as CHUNKS of its surface PEEL/BREAK loose. FIRES ERUPT. LARGE EXPLOSION. SHRAPNEL hits nearby Command Ships in between all the GRAVEL IMPACTS.
Most 'bodyguard' drones TURN against the incoming gravel, start FIRING at it, but too few of their beams HIT anything big enough or manage to keep resulting debris from advancing and still HITTING them & the Command Ships.
The stream of gravel HITS & OFFS lots of attacking drones too, but flows just (meters) away enough from Destiny.
Many attacking drones still far from Destiny change course and start SHOOTING incoming gravel (with little success).
A slightly FLICKERING Console shows a Command Ship icon VANISHING.
Yet another Command Ship icon CRUMBLES.
Far & not-so-far IMPACTS heard & FELT.
CHECKING new Console GRAPH showing a "river of something":
(amazed?)
Enemy's getting stoned!?
Yet more Command Ships EXPLODE.
Simple stones are causing so much damage, how?
Speed. Times mass: a lot of impact energy.
More Command Ship icons & drone dots VANISH.
(on-stage magician)
Super-speed non-metallic bullets! Pretty much undetectable so near these massive rings made of the same. Cost us years to setup this right.
We're still getting hit! Shields are losing strength!
Ancient Screen shows more CARNAGE.
It's still pure physics. When I said you had a lot of potential, I'm afraid I fell short!
(smiles)
By her side:
Ahem... Not everybody's so taken in with him. And anyway he got his Ginn. But he's a star for all Novans. Despite, or perhaps because he's not like everybody else.
Ancient Screen shows 6 Command Ships. Then 5. ACTIVE drones reduced in half too.
Re: SCREEN:
Things like this, maybe not so spectacular, but...
(checks ASSISTANTS out of earshot)
For all his showmanship, he's still very much human.
Making everybody else believe he's almost like a god?
(sotto)
But no, what I meant was no second-chancer ever could talk with their past selves the way he allowed Ginn.
Ancient Screen with 4 Command Ships left. FLICKERS slightly.
(nods)
Even as a child. So the official story goes. And yet it could have gone wrong so many ways...
(shrugs)
She's great and all, but sometimes... his motives make me wonder.
The Eli Wallace I know would never harm her, or any other woman, in any way. He's a big Teddy Bear.
Did he get a new heart at Novus? A brainwash, or something?
Ask him about his mother, then. Ask Chloe. Hell, ask the original Ginn. Or Wray!
Ancient Screen shows only 2 Command Ships + less than 170 ACTIVE drones left.
He never talks much about these kinds of things. I've been close to his family for years, and they all love him, unconditionally. It's... almost too good to be true, y'know?
The Medical Team (with their gear) ARRIVES.
Reviewing Console:
Why isn't it Jumping yet?
Engine trouble?
It's outta range!
It could be waiting to see what we do next.
Consoles show increasing numbers of small & not-so-small impact 'flashes' against the SHIELDS.
We shouldn't wait around here any longer, either. Those raging EM storms going around could easily fry us.
(points)
Let's get out of this trap the same way we came, hugging the rings planetwards, real carefully. Then, we can check some of these big moons.
Keying:
Plenty of speeding GRAVEL CLOUDS rush past, VERY CLOSE to POV.
Limping away, the lone surviving Command Ship, with plenty of superficial DAMAGE, even 1 (small) fire or 2, escorted by a handful drones.
ZOOM OUT: The gas Supergiant, its extensive rings & moons DWARFING everything else: Command Ship/drone debris little more than a vanishing CLOUDLET near the rings' fuzzy surface, Destiny little more than a small SPARKLING dot.
ON SCREEN: Electronic editions of Novan BEST-SELLERS:
Brief History of Earth's
Games & Videogames, with demos. by Eli Wallace, in 3 Volumes.
Brief History of Earth's
Science Fiction: Did they know? by Eli Wallace, in 4 Volumes.
'Cannon Defense: Drone Attack!'
More than just a popular game. by Eli Wallace Jr., with stats & interviews.
Constitutionalism and Modernity:
beyond our Ancestors to the future. by Sen. Everett Taylor. With comparative tables.
Economies of scale and the Stargate:
Dos & don'ts. Noctis University of Industrial Sciences.
35.
Yeah. But who counts 'em anymore, eh, Mr. Chairman? All these battles, all your plans: we're risking our lives for peanuts.
Re: big holo SCREEN with the 'Blockade' GRAPH, zoomed OUT, more complete:
783 at present. In a 'bubble' 1600 light-years all around us. Used to be a half-dozen more, but they Jumped somewhere and haven't been replaced, yet.
Pretty much. It shifted to follow us when we got here. It's early to know for sure, tho.
Of course they aren't! We already knew that, didn't we? Point is, unless you have a better way to get rid of all those, we're just wasting our time!
We're not wasting our time. Good work, you two. Keep me updated on those enemy numbers and positions. It's important. Okay?
What about the Supply Depots? Aren't they important?
Of course they are: They're bait, same as Destiny, aren't they, Mr. Chairman? Again for peanuts.
5 each. Which makes 20 total. In a few hours they'll be breached, even if no more attackers come hit 'em.
About to leave:
Y'know, Dr. Rush, I was sure you'd have already found it by yourself. You, of all people, should see that we're not playing for peanuts at all.
Taking something from DOORLET:
Darling, we can do much better than that.
(to machine)
Private library: Lingerie: French.
'Fin de siecle' or 'Modern'?
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