Nissan rogue front bumper

Need recommendations on trusted websites or if I should just go to a junkyard and find a decent hood and bumper

So we finally went to level 8 yesterday and my build finally became complete.
I'm a level 5 absolution chapter Jaeger (from steinhardts guide to the eldritch hunt)/ level 3 order of the lycan blood hunter.
Thing is the campain is probably only going to level 10 and I don't really like any of the upcoming jeager abilities and blood hunter really only gives me an asi/feat so I have decided to add a 3rd class to the mix
My stats are Str - 10 Dex - 20 Con - 18 Int - 16 Wis - 16 Cha - 7
I'm primarily a front line fighter attacking with my sword and gun. The fighting styles I have are the flexible fighting and two weapon fighting.
For the rest of the party we have a totem barbarian and a brute fighter with me in melee and an assassin rogue, divine soul sorcerebard and necromancer wizard attacking at range.
So any suggestions for the new class and potential subclass would be appreciated

Night creeped over Pripyat Outskirts, and with it, the mutants stirred from their day-time lethargy. The action of the day halted, the various sides of the on-going campaign hid from these monsters. The warriors of Redemption and their allies chose to rest for a few more hours before continuing towards the laundromat once Strelok had been informed of the possible UNISG squad on way to get him. Strelok had informed them that he would move his men out of the place into a new safe location by the apartment blocks west of the laundromat. The squad was getting tired, and they still waited for Dimuha's group to join them. Huddled around a small oven inside one of the many apartment blocks, Boris was deep in thought.
He looked at the message on his PDA. It read:
"Boris. We know you're in the city, and we know you're hunting UNISG. Stand down now, and report to us at the book store. I don't know why you still hunt them, but this is a state matter now, and if you continue disobeying explicit orders, I will have to liquidate you as well. This is my final warning, you have time until noon tomorrow to leave."
The sender was Colonel Degtyarev. He had finally arrived to deal with UNISG here. However, Boris had no intention to leave. This was merely a time limit, one he knew Redemption could achieve. Boris was not sure why he was still so stubborn to stop UNISG, but something told him, a part of him perhaps honed during the long years in the Zone, that leaving now would be catastrophic. He also, for some reason, felt like the quest for vengeance that Dimka and Sevka pursued was also his own. Perhaps it was related to his own plan for revenge, but that would have to wait now. This fight was far from the simplistic clash of good, by Zone standards at least, and evil that the war against Sin had been. Too many variables, too many ticking time bombs.
He sighed and took a look around him. Others were fast asleep, bar for Dima, who was keeping watch in the corridor just outside the room. Dimka was drowzing, Sevka was dreaming as evident by the rapid movement behind his eyelids. Rogue had taken the corner spot furthest from the oven, and a poncho-like cloth thrown over his Sunrise suit made it impossible to figure out if he was actually sleeping or not. Boris took out his water canteen and drank, feeling the thirst from sitting so close to the fire. The sound of footsteps alerted him, making him pull his Automag towards the door. Dima entered the room, kicked Sevka in the shoulder and ordered him to go patrol instead.
"Five more minutes, man.", Sevka groaned.
"You had five more minutes twenty minutes ago, urod. Your time to go freeze your ass in the dark.", Dima pressed on, and muttering something inaudible in both Spanish and Russian, Sevka disappeared into the darkness.
Dima chuckled at the response and looked around the room, noticing Boris still wide awake. He strolled over to his friend and sat down, crossing his legs.
"What's keeping you awake? Shouldn't you be resting, tomorrow will most likely be nasty.", Dima said quietly.
"Can't sleep. I'm not sure why, it's just thoughts chasing each other. Listen, Dima, are we in all over our heads here? What the fuck are we even doing, chasing international spies in the Zone? And now, Degtyarev is coming after our asses.", Boris sighed.
"We are doing this because it's the right thing to do. We are giving two of our members a chance at Redemption and avenging those comrades lost at Jupiter checkpoint. Simultaneously, we are keeping yet another government out of the Zone. I don't like the jarheads from Agroprom, but at least they're the devil I know. The Chinese and their cronies? No telling what they would do with things gathered from the Zone. I do not wish to open that Pandora's box, and if I can, I will stop it from happening, SSU helping us or not.", Dima said in an angry tone.
"Eh, good thing I've got you as a voice of reason. Very uncharacteristic of you too, not a single pun during all that? Impressive restraint.", Boris said with a grin.
"I'm too tired for those. Besides, you're just a human and need reassurance at times too.", Dima replied, taking out a bottle of Nemiroff vodka and pouring himself some of it into a metal mug before pointing with it towards Boris in a questioning gesture.
"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to have my taste buds savaged.", Boris scoffed.
"I need some for the nerves. Watching Pripyat in the dark, with all the sounds of mutants travelling, lurking in the dark... It's hard already. But after those Nightshades... I've started to think that there is something utterly wrong with this place. Like some sort of horror laying dormant nearby, just out of reach. Maybe I'm getting old, maybe I'm right, who knows. But eh, with some liquid courage, I can brave the sleep now.", Dima replied to Boris' mocking and downed the mug's contents.
"You may be right, indeed. But there's time to explore that aspect of this place later, now we're on a mission. Albeit... There is something I want to ask of you. Something I've been planning. Something big.", Boris said hesitantly, seeing Dima raise his eyebrow in a questioning manner.
Boris explained his plan, recounting what pushed him to form it, how he would execute it and how Felka had given him enough confidence and information to pull it off. To demonstrate this, Boris showed a weathered map with markings on it. Dima listened, nodding from time to time, knowing not to interrupt his friend at such a crucial moment. When Boris finally stopped talking, Dima was silent. He screwed the bottlecap off once more, and poured most of the bottle into the mug. Downing it in one go, he gasped, sighed and turned to Boris.
"This is insanity, Boris. Even more so than anything we have done so far. I understand your reasoning, I really do, but to do all this because of a vague threat from some unknown guy? How will you even get there?", Dima asked in a voice that sounded like he had found Boris' plans outrageous.
"I'm not doing it simply because of the threat, you know.", Boris said quietly.
"For revenge? Boris, you saw what happened to Veles when he pursued revenge over anything else. You've already changed these last few days... You're more impulsive, more brutal, less decisive. Boris, for God's sake, forget about this. Don't throw all you have achieved away because of it.", Dima pleaded, but Boris simply shook his head.
"I am not throwing it all away. If I die due to this, I die knowing that I had done enough. Redemption no longer needs me for guidance, the faction already has men of great devotion like Dimuha, Psoglav, you and Sanyok. Men who will keep it alive without me. If I don't die, I will return knowing that one part of my past is finally behind me.", Boris explained in a voice that conveyed this to be his final decision.
"I see you've already made up your mind. I don't like it, in fact, I detest it, but... You're my best friend Boris. A brother to me, quite frankly. I respect your opinion on this, and lead Redemption until you return. But if you go there and die, I will find your ghost or whatever fucking non-mortal form you take and make that Current artifact torture you had look like child's tickling.", Dima said solemnly.
"I would expect nothing less. Thank you, Dima. And you're like a brother to me, as well. Without you none of this would have happened, I'd probably be a rotting corpse in Jupiter underground.", Boris pondered out loud, glancing outside where first rays of sun appeared in the clouds hanging near the horizon.
"You'd probably smell better then. Alright, now that we got the insanity of your future and the soft feelings shit out of the way, I'm off to bed.", Dima said, emptied what little remained of the Nemiroff into his mouth and slithered into his sleeping bag.
"Good night, bratan.", Boris replied and looked at the map in front of him once more.
The conversation had made him even more sure of it. It was time to settle scores once and for all. From the hushed chatter echoing in from the outside, Boris figured that Dimuha's squad had most likely made it here too. These suspicions were confirmed when three stalkers entered the room, Dimuha in his rust-covered Skat, Sanyok in his Hybrid Alpha suit and another man in Sunrise suit. Behind them, far more hesitantly, a man in mercenary LC-suit entered in tow.
"Morning, Boris. You look refre-... Actually, you look like shit. Are you getting enough sleep? Eat your vitamins? Make sure to get balanced amounts of everything on your plate?", a familiar voice started in a humorous tone.
"Can we shoot him now?", Dimuha asked, irritated.
"That's against the Geneva convention to shoot a medic.", Sanyok replied.
"You guys follow those? Dushman always calls them "Geneva Suggestions".", Meeker, who Boris now recognized as the man in the LC-suit, chuckled.
"Morning, Stitch. Long time no see. And no, haven't been able to sleep well lately, you have any pills for that?", Boris asked in similar tone to the medic's.
"Sleeping pills are harder to come by these days, after the big emission. More nightmares, more cases of insomnia and even sleep paralysis, to a worrying extent. I don't have anything on me right now since many guys want them, perhaps I have some at the laundromat.", Stitch replied, now getting serious.
"We'll see. But before that, we have a battle on our hands. Wake up the others, it's time to prepare.", Boris ordered.
"I brought some goodies from my stock too, to help with that. Griffin's boys have no use to them now.", Meeker offered, and Boris nodded to him.
"And most importantly, he had this.", Dimuha said, taking out Boris' lost RPD, making Boris' eyes brighten up despite the lost sleep.
"You found it? Where?", Boris asked, flabbergasted.
"One of the UNISG lads had it, apparently kept it as a trophy. Another had your Korth and Tokarev too. Not sure if I'll keep them though.", Dimuha teased, making Boris slowly draw out his kukri before Dimuha tossed the guns to him.
Boris looked his weapons over once more. While they were tools of war and destruction, to him they were trusty companions too. Nowhere near the level of his exoskeleton, but trusty nonetheless. And now, they would reap revenge on the ones who had separated them from their master. Boris looked at the sunrise and grinned. It was time to put an end to this.

hi, i’m first time borrower. i work full time and will pay it back on time, but an unexpected medical expense used up the rest of my last paycheck. i need gas to make it to work for the next 2 weeks. $60 will fill the tank in my nissan rogue and get me there and back for the next 2 weeks!
any help i receive would be heatedly appreciated.

Dealing with a 2005 Nissan Sentra 1.8 with almost 190K miles on it. It seems like it's on it's last legs but I'm hoping it lasts 4-5 months more until I move and get into a better situation where I can replace it
A few months ago, the front of the car and steering wheel started shaking badly when I was driving. Checked the tires and they were OK, nothing happened while I was driving, sunny/dry weather, and ultimately it stopped on its own
Now yesterday the issue happened again except I only drove it about 5 miles and under 40 mph and stopped at a few places. On the way back it started shaking badly to the point of being unsure for a minute if I could drive it back. I was able to get it back fine. Checked the tires again since the driver said got a nail in it a couple of weeks ago but isn't leaking (nail head is flush with the tire surface at this point) and is not low on air so seems fine
Drove it today for the same distance to check if the issue is still there and it had no issues at all. Thought it was coming back for a second but turned out fine the entire drive
Any ideas as to what may be causing this infrequent front-end shaking to happen?
I can get something repaired if I really need to but I'm not exactly in the best situation to be paying for repairs that turn out to not fix anything which is a decent chance since I don't have a mechanic I completely trust
Thanks for any help

That time of year where I live where every drive ends with bugs plastered all over the front bumper and windscreen. It’s pretty easy to wash the windscreen but I find it hard to get the front bumper clean without getting rough with a sponge and I’m afraid i will damage my paint. Any way or products that helps get them off easier?

Looking at pre-owned AWD SUV’s. Is the 2020 Nissan Rogue a reliable car in the long term to buy. I see two that I like: one with 45,000 miles another with 36,000 miles.

First
Memory transcription subject: Luke Schmidt, Human Businessman
Date [standardized human time]: December 18th, 2136
I was the only human in the bar. I chalked it up to timing and chance, as it wasn’t a hostile bar. Aside from a few glances and the fact that people passing by my table took great care not to touch me, I had no issues. I could barely keep my head off the table, but that was more a function of tiredness than anything. I had arrived on Venlil Prime only a few days ago, and the goofy sleep schedule messed with my brain. Barlethy Shipping did provide us with blackout curtains to set up over the windows of our bedrooms, but it was still challenging.
That wasn’t even mentioning all the work I’d been doing. I was a salesman for Barlethy Shipping, which had been established for about 50 years prior to First Contact. FTL ships were horrendously expensive, and usually only the government had access to them, but the Barlethy billionaire family cared quite a bit about expanding their business on this frontier, and were willing to pour millions into private FTL ships for their employees, as well as efforts to ensure that the Venlil legal system wasn’t a hassle. I was meant to set up business deals with aliens, using a variety of methods of varying moral standing, and although others had already done so, there was still a whole planet of opportunity.
As such, I had been talking to Venlil, viewing their wares, and traveling almost all the time I’d been here. When I wasn’t doing that, I was eating and sleeping. I really needed a break, so after fourteen hours of business, I arrived at the bar for a much-needed drink. I’d made a few successful deals thus far, so hopefully Barlethy Shipping wouldn’t mind the downtime too much.
I wasn’t really paying attention to the aliens around me, as I was rather exhausted, so I didn’t notice when the unfamiliar alien walked up to me. I did not recognize which species this was, which energized me. New things always did. The species was honestly rather ugly, which was weird because all the aliens I’d seen thus far were either cute or sleek, in my opinion. They had rough gray elephant skin with sparse thick, black hairs scattered around it, which made them look more like a hairy human than like an alien with fur. The top of their snout dangled down over their mouth, and they had short tusks and weird little giraffe horns. Their tail curled up like a squirrel’s, and their fingers were long, thin, and far too numerous. They looked like a squat, mammalian Arxur. And then, they sat down across from me.
“Hello there. You’re unique too! Isn’t that fun? Being the only one of your kind in sight really isn’t all that fun, but you get used to it,” she said, in a friendly, conversational tone that was apparently female, according to my translator.
I didn’t think that unfamiliar aliens were willing to get within an arm's length of unfamiliar humans. Maybe the Venlil or our other good allies, but I had never seen this race before. I said as much. “Pardon me, but who and what are you? I have never seen your species before, and I don’t think you’re allied with humanity.” I figured that she must be a regular here, since nobody gave her a second glance. Maybe she’d expressed wanting to meet a human for a while. I still had no idea what her deal was, though.
I think I came across a little harsher than I intended, but she didn’t seem to mind. She began, “Oh, pardon my manners. My name is Polkif, and I am a Zhetsian. You’re right, we’re not allied with humanity, and there aren’t a whole lot of us on Venlil Prime, so you probably haven’t heard of us. We don’t have a very large diaspora. I’ve been here a few years, and I’m used to being a novelty.”
I hummed, interested. Some part of me was always eager to talk to aliens, and I could indulge that now. Most of the time, my interactions with aliens were distinctly more… hostile, than I’d like, but that was unavoidable. Well, here was an opportunity to avoid hostilities! Though, I was still wondering why this wasn't shaping up to be hostile, so I asked, “Why are you comfortable walking up to random, unfamiliar humans? Even people who have been here since First Contact with us and who generally like humans aren’t often comfortable doing that. Especially since we have a reputation for being aggressive when drunk.”
Polkif snuffled, which my translator told me was laughter. After a few seconds, she said, “Well, we’re Zhetsians! We’re expected to be bold. We do have to be mindful of other species’ norms when offworld, but I don’t think they’ll kick my door down and drag me off to the predator disease facility just for being excited about talking to a human. I suppose you don’t know if they will until they do it, but I’ve gone this long without biased officers bagging me, so I figure my logic holds up. Besides, I don’t mind standing out and having to make an effort to fit in if it means I can avoid the current issues on my native planet, Miluja. Well, the issues are everywhere in Zhetsian space, but they’re especially strong there.”
I was intrigued, and thoughts of tiredness were out of my mind. Of course, there were a whole lot of aliens with all different cultures and histories, but this was new, even compared to other aliens I knew of, and was shaping up to be exciting. I would be especially tired later, but I didn’t mind the adrenaline that interest and excitement gave me right now. I prompted her, “What kind of issues?”
Polkif obliged me. “Civil unrest issues. All five Zhetsian planets are having issues with stampedes, mobs, protesting, and armed rebellion, but on Miluja it’s devolved into a civil war. Or Colony World 3, as it’s known offworld. They don’t like that we landed on naming it after Milu, since they say he had predator disease, but it’s tradition to call it that, and I like it better than the generic name, at least.
“Once the Cilany broadcast came out and reached us, it was pandemonium. Due to the anti-predator religion, a lot of people assumed that we were predators, so we split from the Federation. All the death cults and secret predator or predator-diseased sympathizers came out of the woodwork declaring this to be proof that they were right all along, and now everyone should join up with them and make a utopia, or something. Of course, all the elements that prevented those guys from making themselves known before were still there, so the government and the Federation-sympathizers cracked down on them. The rebellious elements were emboldened, though, and had quite a few guns and lots of repurposed farming equipment, so they fought back. This led to all the sympathizers still in the government to come out and support the rebellion too, except they were discovered, and you had tusk-fights in offices everywhere. It devolved from there, and now the whole planet is engulfed in civil war.
“The other planets are doing better, though not by much. Nitto is probably doing the best out of all of them, since the overwhelming majority of the government and populace was able to unite around the Nitre Rebellion’s legacy and kick the Federation out. Kipresa and Colony World 4 are undergoing low-level fighting and their share of unrest; their problems are mitigated by the fact that most of Kipresa just want to make money and aren’t up for fighting, and Colony World 4 knows that its denizens are mostly criminals, so they have a habit of not looking too closely as long as you don’t cause problems and there continue to be people willing to buy their ore. Mother Plains, our homeworld, has had more luck with the government cracking down on rebellion and dissent, but there are still decently sized patches that are held by rebel forces, and the Federation and government are growing more unpopular by the day.
“In short, there’s fighting and disruptions everywhere, though the last ship that came from Zhetsian space came a month ago, and I’m not sure how it’s progressed without me. The fact that no more ships have come is troubling enough. As for alliances, I can’t imagine that the UN wants to get involved in our civil wars, especially since most of the official governments would reject them anyway. So, we’re not allied with either the Federation or the UN, and I think we're best off focusing on getting ourselves to a stable position before helping anyone else with their problems.”
I sat back, stunned. Of course, in the back of my mind, I had figured that there might be intraspecies fighting somewhere in the Federation, but I’d started to discount that as a possibility, with how herd-focused and timid the Federation seemed. Species-wide civil wars and unrest was not what I expected. Though, if that’s what the situation back home was like, no wonder it seemed perfectly safe walking up to strange humans. I’ve known a few people from countries with civil unrest issues, and while some of them are intensely paranoid, some are fearless and barely blink at what normal people would consider notable dangers.
She continued after a few seconds. “I’m not quite sure where I stand on the issue. I am quite willing to call my home Miluja, and I have a lot of family who are farmers and on that side of the conflict, but you get leery of supporting such people after long enough away. The walls have ears when it comes to expressing dissent, you know. You’ve got to be on high alert if you want to do things the Federation government doesn’t approve of without them knocking on your door. It gets exhausting to hold such opinions after a while, in the face of all the opposition to them.”
She shook her head side-to-side slightly, and it occurred to me that she was probably looking for listeners in her blind spot. She had lowered her voice, too, so that I had to strain to hear her over the din of the bar. Even with how milquetoast that bit of opposition to the Federation ideology seemed, she didn’t seem like she wanted people to notice it. I’d had my share of paranoia, certain that the aggressive and somewhat underhanded negotiation tactics I’d used would be revealed, and I’d be fired and cause a huge diplomatic incident that would end in me being burned to a crisp. Well, her concerns couldn't have been that bad, since she seemed to settle down quickly enough. After she was done, she tipped her head back a bit to sip from her drink. Her snout prevented her from tilting the glass to her mouth all the way.
I decided to talk about myself a bit, since she seemed inclined to sit in silence, though she didn’t move away from my table. “Well, I’m sure you know about Earth. I’m here because I’m a representative of Barlethy Shipping, and I’m supposed to be negotiating deals with aliens, mostly Venlil. It doesn’t sound like we’ll be dealing with Zhetsians anytime soon, if it’s as bad as you say over there. I’ve been here for about a week on this trip, though I was here for a few weeks already during the Battle of Earth, and I’m already exhausted. Work and a weird sleep schedule will do that for you. After I’m done here, I’m going back to my hotel to sleep.”
Polkif responded, “Ah, I see. I’ve been an offworld business rep before, and it is not fun. Seeing other planets is enjoyable to a degree, but the schedule is grueling, other planets always have weird day/night cycles, and people tend to look down on Zhetsians as rebellious. I left for Venlil Prime about five years ago to help run a new branch of the farming equipment manufacturer I did sales for, though they try to hide their Zhetsian origins, and I exclusively work in non-public-facing roles. I was supposed to come back last month, but that didn’t pan out for obvious reasons. Oh well, I’ve got stable employment, since they’ve kept me on, and I think I can manage.”
I checked my holopad, and noted the time. It was 30 minutes until I wanted to go back to my apartment and sleep, since I’d scheduled an hour for this. A few thoughts flashed through my mind, most notably that getting back earlier would result in even more sleep, and that Polkif seemed nervous about discussing certain topics where others could hear. An idea sprang to mind, and I voiced it. “It’s been a pleasure talking with you, but I probably ought to start heading back to my hotel room. Do you want to discuss more things on the way? I’d love to hear more about you and your species, but it’s rather crowded in here.”
Something glinted in her eyes, and her fingers started twitching madly, bringing to mind images of sea anemones with bony tentacles. She responded, in a rather weird tone, “Oh, I’d love to do that. I don’t need to be anywhere for another three claws, so I’d be glad to discuss things on the way. Why don’t we finish our drinks and go?”
I’d almost finished my drink, so I downed the rest just as she chugged over half of her glass at once to finish it. As she hopped off the stool, I stopped leaning on the wall behind me, a poor substitute for a backrest, stretched my back a bit, and then grabbed my things and followed her.
It was rather empty outside, with only a few scattered and easily-avoidable groups of Venlil here and there on the street. I started towards my hotel, and Polkif followed. Once we’d gotten a decent ways away from anyone, Polkif started talking in a quiet but still conversational voice. “So what would you like to know?”
“Anything interesting,” I said. “Perhaps why you have a reputation for being rebellious, or why your government doesn’t like this Milu character, or why some of your planets are having it worse than others.”
“The walls have ears, but I have better vision and probably better hearing than you and most Venlil, so I’ll stop talking if there’s a chance of unwanted listeners. Do note that what I'm about to tell you is not the official history, and I could get in very serious trouble if people knew that I believed, or at least seriously considered, this stuff. I can drag you down with me if you start telling people about it. Capiche?”
This sounded serious, especially since her tone had gotten noticeably sharper. She seemed a lot more alert and less casual now, even considering the comments she made in the bar about the officials who handled predator disease, which reminded me of the old “knock on the door” of governments who took away people who opposed them, now that I thought about them. That was worrying, but it was probably something that required more context to understand. Also, it did not occur to me that aliens would have a word that translated to “capiche”, but I considered that it was context-appropriate and nodded. Polkif continued.
“Alright, so the first thing to know is that unwanted ideas and movements that spring up among us never quite manage to die, however much the Federation wants them to. We have quite a few dissident groups that are officially labeled “death cults”, as well as a lot of rebellious movements that the Federation has been working to stamp out. Many of these groups have survived centuries of opposition, and sometimes they preexist First Contact. The most notable of these groups are Linked Chains, the Steward Branch, the Inside, and the Nitre rebellion stuff on Nitto. Though, Linked Chains has spread offworld and has a pretty significant non-Zhetsian membership, so it isn’t near-exclusively Zhetsian like the others.
“What you should know is that, apart from a handful of bog-standard criminals and a few people looking for an excuse to cause harm, nobody dies or supports dying or misery in those groups. The Steward Branch is a religion that, especially now, is suspected to have been the original, true religion of Zhetsians, and which has as a core doctrine the idea that all life is precious and necessary for gaining true understanding. Including the predatory life. Linked Chains thinks that predators are necessary for the ecosystem to function properly, something that you humans seem to agree with. The Inside and the pro-Nitre stuff are the anti-Federation movements on Miluja and Nitto, respectively.
“The official accounts are pretty accurate as far as the origins of three of the movements, though Bilte is not evil, stupid, or manipulative like they portray him, the non-Steward branches are likely some combination of invented or blown way out of proportion by the Federation, and they like to underrepresent the amount of animosity that lingered after the Nitre rebellion’s resource issues were handled. Really, you need unofficial sources to get good histories for anything involving those movements. The thing they lie the most about, though, is the origins of the Inside on Miluja.
“A little over a century ago, Miluja, then only known as Colony World 3, started a program of reintroducing certain predators onto the planet in order to deal with pests. We’re a farming colony, you understand, so dealing with pests was a rather large priority, and sheer practicality overwhelmed the propaganda in this instance. The Exterminators Union threatened to withdraw over these changes, the planet called their bluff, and they left, only to realize that nobody wanted them back. A bounty system was implemented for unapproved wild predators, but a lot of other predators besides the original pest-killers started hanging around and coming out from the unannihilated parts of the wilderness that had been left when the Union left. People stopped minding, apparently. You can still access The Seven Sons of Aboulo TV show if you know where to look, it tells you something about what it was like back then. Much better than the contemporary first iteration of The Exterminators, which was a piece of over-the-top propaganda, though I digress.
“Of course, that wasn’t going to last forever. I can only imagine the reason we didn’t get shut down instantly was because we were, and remain, a bit of a backwater, and they all bought into their own lies enough that they thought we’d collapse on our own due to our changes. We didn’t, so they started helping the process along.
“The Farsul showed up to Zhetsian space and started poking around. The Farsul poking around in an unimportant, obscure species like ours can only mean trouble. They did some preliminary reconnaissance, then they threatened us if we didn’t disarm all of our civilian ships. We had the bright idea to retrofit all of our ships with guns, but apparently that encourages predator behavior, or something. Those made up almost all of our fleet! We really couldn’t afford the sanctions, scrutiny, accusations, and ostracization that would come from defying the Farsul, so we dutifully disarmed our ships, and shortly thereafter the Arxur showed up.”
At that, Polkif stopped talking, and a Venlil suddenly came out of a building that we had assumed was closed, almost hitting us with the door. The Venlil only heard the last part about the Arxur showing up, according to my calculations, and after a look of startlement that he shared with us, he turned around and headed the opposite direction. Polkif exhaled, and said, “The annoying thing about Venlil Prime is that there isn’t a night when everyone sleeps. There’s always a sizable portion of the population awake and active at any given moment, so you can’t avoid people staring at you nearly as much as you’d like.”
I bet a lot of people stared at Polkif. She seemed to be a regular in that bar, but elsewhere? Given that Polkif had stopped talking before I noticed the Venlil coming out of the building, I got the feeling that she was hyper-aware of scrutiny and always thinking about how people would perceive her every move. The walls have ears, after all. No wonder she was so noncommittal in the bar, compared to here. I figured that I should keep my observations to myself, though, and responded, “I can see that. On the bright side, not having a night means there’s nowhere you shouldn’t go at night. Wait, does the Federation even have street crime?”
Polkif snorted, which my translator told me indicated derision, same as for humans. “You’re more likely to get reported for predator disease for being out alone than to get mugged. But, yes, that will happen on occasion. Usually it takes the form of criminals running up, grabbing your bag, and running off again, no violence or confrontation involved. I know for a fact that there’s more violent crime than the Federation likes to admit to, though. Anyway, back to the story? Nobody’s watching.”
“Please.”
“Alright, so where were we? Farsul, ships, Arxur… Ah yes, the Arxur raid. After our fleet was significantly reduced, a fleet of more than a thousand Arxur ships showed up to Colony World 3. Normally this would be a death sentence, but a combination of tactics, guts, and on-the-ground resistance ended in us decimating the Arxur fleet, which then retreated with almost no cattle. Miluja hasn't had any Arxur problems since; they say we taste bad, and decimating their fleet probably put us firmly in the “don’t bother” camp. Fine by us! Anyway, during the battle, we’d asked around for help, but the other planets weren’t willing to divert resources, and I also suspect they wanted to avoid retaliation. They had to have known about the Farsul ship order. We also sent a few scouts further away to ask for help from other species, and that fleet did show up! Once the battle was already over and the Arxur were already retreating. Lazy cowards barely fired a single shot.
“As you might imagine, that fleet, known as the Assistance Fleet, stuck around. They offered to help us rebuild our bombed infrastructure and almost-annihilated fleet, for a hefty sum of cash and quite a lot of food. The other requirement was that we revert all of the changes we had made regarding predators and accept what was essentially an occupation. Our remaining pristine wilderness? Gone. Our new and unique ideas? Either well-hidden, taught away, or trapped in the minds of those stuck in facilities. Our wildlife? Mostly gone, although the original netry birds and jutalem are still around, despite the best efforts of the exterminators. Stubborn little bastards, they are. Some have taken them as a sort of symbol.
“The last important bit from that period is Milu. Things really sucked after the Assistance Fleet established themselves, as stated previously. Milu was a bureaucrat who schemed to smuggle out a whole bunch of information that the Outside occupiers wanted to destroy, subverted a great many efforts to diagnose people with predator disease and kill predators, and even worked to convince the physical fleet to head home instead of being threatening in our orbit. All around a stellar guy. He eventually got found out, diagnosed, and sent to a facility. The Outside tried to publicize it, for whichever reason, maybe to demoralize the Inside. It instead turned into a huge scandal, which ended in somebody blowing up the facility Milu was kept in, which resulted in several staff members dying and most of the inmates escaping, including Milu, who was never seen again. People started calling the colony Miluja around that time. Means something like “Milu’s Continuation” in the old Zhetsian language that people use to name things. As you can imagine, the Outside does not like that name, and while using it isn’t enough for a diagnosis, it will get you a whole lot of scrutiny that can easily lead to one.
“So, that’s that, mostly. Lots of fighting, lots of rebellion, lots of farmers telling their children all the things they don't teach in schools, and always the looming Federation ready to squash anything they don’t like. Personally, I’m quite surprised you lot managed to get a foothold. They go so hard on the propaganda.”
That was… a lot to take in. ‘Why does the Federation let them be like this?’ and ‘How horrible can the Federation be?’ were hardly original thoughts at this point, so I latched on to the one thing I understood well. “Well, Tarva was nice and nobody rushed us until we could handle it, and those were the lucky parts. Beyond that, it’s really a matter of time, as people see us not snapping and eating them. Personally, I suspect that the Federation going so hard on the propaganda was their undoing. They tell everyone that predators are pure evil, then predators who aren’t pure evil show up, so people figure the old framework no longer applies and they start judging things more rationally.”
Polkif hummed for a second, then responded, “That’s a decent theory. One would hope that some of that tolerance would extend to me, but I suppose you’re new, and old habits die hard. You know, there’s a few places on the planet I can’t go because of how riled up the populace is about predators, especially lately with you humans arriving. We’re the rebels, so I must be doing something horrible! Clowns, the lot of them.”
I imagine Polkif couldn’t get away with much, if what I took from her was accurate. Her race may have had some leeway with how deviant they were expected to be, but everything about her told me she was always under a lot of scrutiny. Though, this information didn’t seem like someone who perfectly obeyed every law and whim of the Federation would know about. So, I asked her, “If you’re under so much scrutiny, how do you know all this stuff? These unofficial histories don’t seem like something you could easily access.”
Polkif spoke again, but slower and with a weird cadence. “There’s more scrutiny for the Zhetsian diaspora than for Zhetsians on Zhetsian planets. That’s not to say that you aren’t always on high alert at all hours of the day because you never know who’s watching, who’s listening, who’ll report you, and what they’ll take as a sign that you have predator disease, or need your assets confiscated, or what have you. It just means that you have more trustworthy confidants and more leeway on Zhetsian planets. More people who can tell you stories and pass around contraband.
“As a relevant example of contraband, have you ever heard of The History of Non-Sapient Predators?”
I said, “No, I haven’t.”
She started twitching her fingers again, and the front of her snout flopped around a bit. I wasn’t aware she could move it. Then, she spoke. “The History of Non-Sapient Predators is one of the most well-known contraband books, at least amongst Zhetsians. It’s generally considered unsafe for us to get involved in movements offworld, and I’m not sure what contraband books exist elsewhere. Anyway, it’s up there with The Wild and Wondrous Deep, The Linked Chain, and The Social Strain. It’s an anthology of documents from the Galactic Archives, detailing the rise and fall of Colony World 3’s anti-Federation movement, as well as the context it takes place in.
“Most of the documents are publicly accessible in the Galactic Archives, just arranged in an unflattering manner. Some of them require special credentials to access, and a few are definitely not in the Archives, or reference documents that aren’t. It’s a common rumor that the Farsul Government Employee Registry doesn’t exist and is either completely hidden for some reason or a code for something else; also that many documents that used to be on the public network but classified were deleted or moved to a secret location or network after this book was created.
“It’s published under a pseudonym, and there are many theories on who made it. Whoever created it would have had to go to the Farsul homeworld, since the Archives are located there, and would have had to find a way to access non-public documents. It was definitely compiled before Milu, since neither he nor the name Miluja are mentioned. It cuts off after the Rebuilding starts. It was likely made by either a Zhetsian from Miluja or someone who greatly values Miluja, since it’s really only our history, despite the broad-sounding title. I’m sure there are other books detailing other species’ forgotten histories and interactions with non-sapient predators, but I don’t know about them. This is the history of our non-sapient predators.
“Anyway, that book is the defining source of the actual history of the Inside and Colony World 3. Copies are rare, but I used to know someone who had one back on Miluja.”
Wow. With every word that came out of Polkif’s mouth, a picture was being made of the side of the Federation that was so old and paranoid that it wouldn’t reveal itself, even now that Federation narratives were being questioned across the planet, or especially now that that was happening. Though, apparently Polkif wasn’t so paranoid as to hide it from me. I knew that my status as a human made people assume I was comfortable with predatory things, but I found that I did not take Polkif for the type to trust anyone she wasn’t extremely confident in. So I asked her, “Why are you telling me all this? I know I’m a human, but I could tell people. I’m a stranger to you.”
She snuffled again. “Remember when I said that I could drag you down with me? Well, I’ve actually been looking into you for a bit. You’re the only human I’ve seen out here, what can I say? I was interested. I’m quite good at navigating electronic things, and I happen to have discovered several dossiers of blackmail that your shipping company has provided you to help you make deals. Perhaps not as predatory as it could be, but I’m sure I could portray it properly if I needed to make this known to appropriate parties. I’m sure you know how illegal it is and how much of a diplomatic incident this would create.”
Wait.
She knew about that?
Sudden terror gripped me. I liked to think of my activities as aggressive business tactics, but her statement reminded me that it was still blackmail and would likely end in jail time and a diplomatic incident if I were caught. She also refueled the paranoia of getting reported for it that had been plaguing me ever since I arrived on Venlil Prime as a businessman. And, since this random alien who was simply interested in me could find it, that meant that I was in a very precarious position. Out of fear, and desperation, I shot back, “If I reported you, wouldn’t law enforcement just take you away before you could do anything, and wouldn’t they not listen to you if you’re a known predator? You seemed to imply that back at the bar.”
She replied just as quickly, “Exterminators. They deal with cases of predator disease, or really any crime involving the Zhetsian diaspora as they like to assume that we all have predator disease. Anyways, as you’re a human, they’re much less likely to believe anything you say, and that combined with experience and security measures means I will absolutely have time to send it off before they get me. I can be anonymous if need be. And don’t you try to delegate reporting to anyone or do it anonymously; if anyone comes knocking on my door, I’m blaming you, and out this goes.”
Well, damn. I stopped in the middle of the street to think, barely noticing Polkif’s eye glittering as she stopped next to me. I really should have known that someone like Polkif would only reveal anything to anyone if she was very sure that they wouldn’t reveal anything. Whether because she trusted them as people, or because she held something over them. I drastically misjudged her; she was intensely paranoid, but so good at masking that you never knew until she was already acting against you.
The aggressive negotiation tactics already stressed me out. When combined with Polkif’s knowledge of them, they made me feel far out of my depth. My mind was racing, but something did occur to me, and I asked her, “Do you do this frequently for the sake of it, or do you want something from me? You don’t seem the type to task unnecessary risks.”
More snuffling, of what I thought was a distinctly different character than previous snuffling. Probably a malicious laughter, if I had to guess. “I did have an idea that required a human. When I said that I had no copy of The History of Non-Sapient Predators on Venlil Prime, I lied. Had to see how you reacted, after all. I do indeed have a copy that I took with me from Miluja, and have made copies of it since. I was thinking that humanity having a copy would be useful. You guys can translate it, make copies, get famous and make boatloads of cash off of it, or whatever else you can think of. The Federation doesn't have eyes or tendrils on Earth, so the book, our history, won’t die, or at least it has a greater chance not to. I have no clue how many copies there are across the Federation, but I know it’s not that many. I was under the impression that humans quite liked the preservation of knowledge and history, based on what I’ve seen of humanity’s reaction to the Cilany and Yotul situations. So, you wouldn’t mind preserving important history that's been suppressed by the Federation.”
That was… surprisingly benign. I was about ready for her to demand I fork over all of my money, go rogue with my company ship, or commit crimes against exterminators and the government. A little bit of smuggling, especially of something this important, was nothing, especially compared to the activities I’d been engaging in. I already had to smuggle in some of the negotiation material, anyway.
She continued, “As I said, this book is very, very illegal, and even as a human you’re likely to get in a lot of trouble for having it. As you’ve already been able to hide all that blackmail, you shouldn’t have a problem hiding this, but do be careful, and do not get caught. Only look at it once you’re back on Earth, away from prying eyes, and don’t let your company find out until you don’t need their support. I'd recommend keeping your identity wholly separate from your ownership of that book. As for getting it to you, I happen to know that you’re going to be going to a certain library to do research on Venlil agricultural history tomorrow - you really shouldn’t use the DailyMemo112 app, it has poor security - so when you get there, look out for the book titled “History of Agricultural Exports of Venlil Prime: Volume 18” by “Bitsly” in the agriculture section. It’s a fake cover, obviously, with a few fake pages too, but it's what you're looking for, so take it and go. You should probably buy a few other books about Venlil Prime trade, for cover. Any questions?”
Aside from the fact that she casually mentioned that she knew about my daily schedule for the remaining 2 weeks of my trip, that was surprisingly straightforward. A few plans for what I'd do with the book were even percolating in my mind; I'd translate them to English, of course, and then I could post them anonymously online, maybe I could put a paywall or tip jar in there to make money off of it? I didn't need the money, since my job paid me well, but this could blow up, and I wouldn't be one of Barlethy Shipping's spacefaring employees if I didn't keep an eye out for opportunity. None of these ideas were something I needed Polkif for, though. So, I replied, “No. Uh, thank you for telling me all this? Fascinating stuff.”
“You’re welcome, and thank you, if you pull this off successfully. Oh, and don’t tell the UN. They care quite a bit about Venlil laws and sovereignty, you know. Them knowing will attract attention that neither of us want. Never tell anyone anything unless you absolutely have to, you know. Now, I believe that is your hotel right there?”
I looked away from Polkif, and noticed that we were indeed in front of the huge, gray hotel building I was staying in. I wasn't sure how Polkif knew it was mine, but I probably shouldn't have been surprised at that point. It spoke to how adrift and detached from all non-business endeavors I was on Venlil Prime that I didn’t recognize the area around the place I was staying until it was pointed out to me. With a sudden bout of melancholy washing out some of the paranoia, I said, “Indeed.”
She flopped her snout around a bit, twitching her fingers all the while. I assumed, or at least hoped, that this was the Zhetsian version of smiling. “See you never, probably. Further contact would only be suspicious. The walls have ears, so be careful. Goodbye.”
I watched her walk off, back towards the bar. I entered my hotel, feeling dazed now that everything had time to settle in. The adrenaline was wearing off, and with nothing new or exciting to occupy my attention, I crashed hard. Exhaustion, combined with the events and emotions of the past hour, made me incapable of having thoughts more complex than a sense of paranoia and a desire to go to bed.
I stumbled up to my room and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, without even pulling the blackout curtains over the window.
Previous

So I had one of my vehicles come back damaged for the first time. Bumper took a moderate hit and it’s bent/ cracked in three areas. Wheel took a big hit too, more than just minor curb rash.
I know I need to document all this with pictures, which I am, I want to know what the next steps are for a damage claim after that though. I know I need to make a damage claim within 24 hours of the trips end but I don’t know if I can document all that within 24 hours. Point being, I suspect there is something up with the alignment/ front control arms from the wheel hit. I can’t diagnose that on my own, I need a shop, but it won’t be able to get looked at by the shop until after the 24 hour window. So am I screwed on that part of the damage?
Also, salt for the wound, the renter used a fake license that somehow made it through Turo’s screening. I did my due diligence and verified it with the info Turo had on the renter, it all matched up. How the hell can Turo not catch a fake ID? The license number comes back as nothing, it’s made up. Can Turo be held accountable for this? Seems shitty I’d owe a deductible when they gave me a renter that shouldn’t have been able to rent in the first place.

Hey all, picked up my 4Runner a couple of weeks ago after lots of help from this community. Thought I’d try again and see what everyone’s favourite part suppliers are. Bonus points if they’re Canadian and I can avoid paying import taxes.
Some stuff I’ll be looking for in the near future:

• fender flares/wheel arches
  
• rear spoiler replacement
  
• front and rear bumpers
  

Next year will be the Tundra brake swap and hopefully a suspension upgrade.
Bonus pic: https://i.imgur.com/l5xg7h2.jpg
Thanks!

Hey Guys, as the title already tells, I am looking for a M Front Bumper for my F10 but I can’t find any that look legit and good quality so I decided to ask for help. (would like to add i’m living in europe so please no US sites)

2017 Nissan rogue sport awd ac won’t turn on when I start my car. If I hit my dashboard a few times I’ll work. What could be wrong?

Yesterday just before 5pm, I was walking back home and heading southbound on Ash and West 8th (Between W 8th and W. Broadway) yesterday afternoon and saw this Mazda3 getting hit in the front bumper area by an Acura SUV reversing to pull out of the parking spot. I suspect some paint damage, and some damage to underneath the hood, and the license plate was crushed pretty hard by that Acura SUV, both cars were parallel parked.
Initially thought the Acura driver would actually remain on scene to make a call to ICBC Claim to report the accident, so I tried to walk away to West Broadway but she didn't - so I had to quickly return to the scene to take a photo of the license plate of the Acura from rear (Thankfully she was stuck at a red light so I could take a photo of her license plate while the car was standing still).
I stayed for extra 30-40 minutes on scene to make a call with an agent from ICBC Claims. It's not even my car but I even had to provide my personal BCDL number and my car license plate number as well for verification purposes. Thankfully there was also a City of Vancouver bylaw officer that was checking on cars at the meter parking so was able to tell him the Mazda was hit by the Acura before he had got to the scene.
Not sure if the Mazda driver would see this post on vancouver but if you do, let me know if you need any further details for anything that might be helpful for your car and claim. I provided the license plate numbers of your car and the Acura to the ICBC Claims Agent I was speaking with and told him that your car was the victim. I was literally right on the sidewalk when your car was hit witnessing the Acura reversing too much and making contact with your car.

Does anyone know if you can drive across the border with the US front license plate on the dash? Would they let you cross?
I have a Mercedes C class and we choose not to drill holes on the bumper so the plate was on the dash the whole time. In WA state they let you do that but I’m wondering if they would let you drive across the border without any issue.

My mom’s 2013 Nissan Sentra had the engine light on for a long time. I had it checked and these were the order of warnings from the diagnosis tool: camshaft position sensor circuit, Steering angle sensor, left front wheel speed sensor, ABS enabled input circuit failure. The suggested solution (as per print out from auto parts store that did the test) was to replace the Mass Airflow Sensor first, and then replace the ABS Hydraulic Control Assembly. I used a special cleaner the Mass Airflow Sensor, and then disconnected the battery to make sure it cleared any memory; that’s all I did. My mom says the check engine light has remained off since two months ago when I did this. Question: is it typical the other items were red-herrings? It seems odd it would report on ABS when the problem was airflow related. Also, if the check engine light is not on will the diagnostic tool give any output of potential issues?

In England
Everyday my neighbour parks his van so close to my car you could barely slide a piece of paper in between the bumpers.
Would this be considered harassment?
He's previously on one occasion tried to attack me, threaten me & threaten to 'destroy' my house - obviously when he did that I reported him to the police, which the police had a word with him to wind his neck in.
But for the last 5 months, I believe he's trying to provoke me by parking so close, it's a public road so anyone can park where they like, even if I don't park in front of my house, but elsewhere on the street, he'll still park so close to me.
Can anything be done about it?
Thanks in advance
Edit: Forgot to mention, he only does it to me, not the other neighbours and there's plenty of space behind him, so he doesn't need to park so close.