ESUS Application

[Zerstorendar]

Greetings, from the Empire of Zerstorendar. I've had my eye on ESUS for a while as a group of creative and intelligent roleplayers, and I'd like to apply for entry.

Just as a quick summary, Zerstorendar is a militaristic dictatorship that respects strength, mainly military, over anything else. While they understand the importance of a strong economy, trade, civil rights, etc, everything is second to Military Power. This is reflected in every aspect of society, from the masses, who greatly respect those capable of becoming Zerstorendarian Soldiers, to the government under the appointed dictator. The dictatorship is not hereditary, it is chosen based on the 'appointee's' merits.

Zerstorendar is slightly bigoted against other species/races, and as a race are rather proud and inflexible. While not foolishly antagonistic, war is always on their mind as an option in relations with all other nations. Zerstorendar is also against cloning and accepts use of AI as necessary, but not overly welcomed. They do, however, have agencies that take care of issues that require a more subtle touch. All sorts of issues.

I have quite abit more written than that, but it may be handy for whoever writes the questions. I look forward to them

[Trailers]

Welcome, we will of course have to have you take a few short RP tests before we admit you to the alliance.

A tester will be with you shortly.

[Central Facehuggeria]

My apologies for the delay. Our testers sometimes get lax in their duties.

What will follow is a series of three scenarios. You're to write a single-post story response to each one. These may be canon to your nation if you wish, or they may be completely AU. -The goal is not to evaluate your nation, but rather is for us to get a sample of your writing. Primarily to get to know you better, but also to ensure that you have the dedication that we look for in members.

If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.

Scenario 1: A merchant vessel from your nation is under attack by pirates. Describe the situation in detail and resolve it. You may introduce outside forces at your leisure (passing military vessels, etc.) -Whatever you feel you need to make a more interesting story.

Scenario 2: Describe a day in the life of one of your citizens.

Scenario 3: At your admittance party to the ESUS, your attending diplomat inadvertantly offends a senator from one of the more longstanding members. Describe how your nation resolves the diplomatic crisis, preferably without military force. You have complete liberty to fabricate a background situation as you please. The outcome can similarly be whatever you please, so long as it's interesting to read.

[Zerstorendar]

Ah, space. Captain Dolph Kyt smiled absent-mindedly as he stared into the depths of the great beyond. The viewscreen of the SVA Hellinor was a simple thing of super-reinforced glass, but it was so much more to the Captain. Space was his world, where he had spent the majority of his life, and the Hellinor’s viewscreen was the medium between the man and his chosen environment. Through this windscreen he had seen burning stars, planetary explosions, intricate ballet’s of spark-wreathed ships on salvaging missions. He had seen men make fortunes as they laid claim to wrecks worth millions, and he had seen promising young crewman meet their end at the hands of fate. The ship had seen almost as much action as its Captain.

Dolph Kyt, in his younger, more impetuous days, was a line warrior in the Sternkrieger, the highly trained, battle hardened and fanatical brotherhood that formed the Zerstorendarian space marine corps. Space was his home, and killing was his business. Line soldiers of the Sternkrieger are known as “Hellbringers�, and the title is worn with great pride. Kyt was no exception, and even fourteen years after his last battle, his back still straightened at the very thought of the word. Welcome as he might be in the warrior lodges of the Sternkrieger, he knew he was no longer one of them. If he didn’t have space to keep him company, the loss may have been unbearable. Though to be fair, the Hellbringers assigned as security on his ship readily accepted him into their lodge gatherings, and the rare occasions when he joined them he felt as if he was in the Sternkrieger once more.

The SVA Hellinor was a combat-equipped merchant vessel and a regular auxilary of the Zerstorendarian Navy, known as the Sternsieg. The ship was one of the reliable “Verbermord� class of vessels, or “Cloaked Killer�. Like any Verbermord class, Kyt’s ship had numerous concealed weapons along its 200 metre hull, a complement of twelve Hellbringers for small scale boarding actions, and sixty to seventy crew members. This particular class of ship only travelled with a military escort in combat zones, as the potent defences and powerful drives provided a measure of protection against petty criminals, small fighter groups, and hostile scouting vessels.

Kyt was well informed of the piracy record of this area of space, and his vessel was on high alert. The Hellbringers were fully equipped at all times and could be ready for launch from their two attack pods in under a minute. Sensors were operating at maximum efficiency, and the crewmen were paying close attention to their duties; especially the gunners. Kyt had executed men before for sleeping at their guns, as was standard practise in all combat-capable Zerstorendarian vessels, and his crew knew he was always watching. It was Kyt’s business what he was looking at on the bridge monitors at any given time. As prepared as the ship was, however, it was not impossible to catch it by surprise.

Space pirates were not nearly as unorganised as many Zerstorendarian Naval Officers would have their subordinates believe. Discipline was lacking, as was the stubbornness that so defined the Sternsieg approach to naval warfare. Still, their survival depended on their ability to strike hard and fast, and life as a space pirate usually cut out the weak rather quickly. Unluckily for the Hellinor, it had been chosen as a prime target by a shadowing pirate force, consisting of four vessels designed for boarding and two small gunships, each roughly equivalent to the Hellinor in firepower. The pirate gunships, while less heavily armoured, were also faster. Each boarding vessel contained about twenty pirate marines, a rough and experienced bunch of men who had long ago developed a taste for killing. The pirates had not a clue of the Hellinor’s cargo, but in their experience Zerstorendarian merchant vessels were filled with powerful weapons that could be put to good use.

Pirate vessels were fast, and Kyt only had a few minutes to respond to the sudden appearance of six angry red blips on his radar, whose pace and formation made FoF signals redundant. Kyt ordered his communications officer to notify the nearby Sternsieg orbital docks of their situation.

+++++

A communications officer ran to deliver the message to the commander of the orbital station. The SVA Hellinor was under attack by a superior pirate force, and its cargo could not be allowed to fall into the hands of pirates. The orbital commander frowned as the comm. officer burst into his room and placed the piece of paper in his unwavering hand. The commander read the paper, growled, and eyed the comm. officer balefully:
“Kyt thinks he can’t win?�
“Yes sir.�
“Does he realise the nature of his cargo? Perhaps he should be trying harder�
“He assures us that the possibility for victory is minimal and escape is impossible�. The commander scrunched the paper up and rolled it between his fingers as he thought of a response for a Captain he had some fondness for.
“Tell him if he lets that cargo into the hands of the enemy, I’ll posthumously disgrace him. But make it clear that a brave death could earn him a citation. I may even name a ship after him.�
“Yes sir.� The comm. officer turned to leave, but the commander spoke first:
“Wish him good luck for me�.

+++++

Kyt couldn’t help but let a smile creep onto his face as the comm. officer relayed him the commander’s response. The commander had never been the warmest type, but he knew Kyt; a brave death for eternal life as a ship was a fair trade. The citation was just icing on the pie.

Galvanised by the news, Kyt jumped into action. He ordered that the Hellbringers prepare to defend against boarders, and could already hear them screaming battle cries in preparation. His crew were tracking the incoming gunships, which were the primary and immediate threats. Kyt himself oversaw the beginnings of the dance that was space battle, and started to manoeuvre his ship into a position where only one enemy gunship could easily bring its guns to bear.

The pirates were confident, and made no attempt to bring their second gunship into a position where it could easily attack. They assumed that since sixty of their eighty troops would be boarding soon, the small crew of the Hellinor would be too busy defending to attack. The pirates were reluctant to fire on their own troops, though they would so if forced. With the Hellinor outgunned, however, the pirate gunships made the safe judgement that the Zerstorendarian vessel would not antagonize them if they wanted the chance to surrender.


Kyt knew exactly what the pirates were thinking. They were afraid. Afraid of what any ship bearing the colours of the Zerstorendarian Sternsieg represented. The hostile gunships would hold position under the assumption that Kyt wouldn’t shoot. Kyt couldn’t help but laugh, and crew knew exactly why: he was a nutcase.
“Open fire with all guns on the lead enemy gunship. Then just avoid getting us blown to bits until I give you further orders�. Kyt was still smiling, and his levity was infectious. The grinning weapons officer responded curtly:
“Two firing solutions: destroy their broadsides, or a 50/50 chance of blowing their ship to pieces.�
“Destroy the broadsides, I have other plans. Just keep us away from them after the first volley. But don’t make things too difficult for the boarders. According to Belmark, that would ruin his plans.�


The ranking officer of the Hellbringers was Kalt Belmark, his rank being Lich. Lich was a suffix attached to the end of any military rank that basically means “in charge�, and when applied as a single word it refers to the first rung on the ladder of Zerstorendarian military hierarchy. In other cultures, he may be called a Sergeant. In Hellbringer culture, however, he was simply the best killer.

Like Kyt back in his glory days, Belmark was a member of the fanatically loyal and dangerous quasi-religious warrior fraternity of the Hellbringers, who made up the ranks of the Sternsieg. Trained in a manner similar to the soldiers of the Zerstorendarian Army, the overhyped “Ravagers�, Belmark was a massively powerful killing machine in armour that raised him far above the level of human ability. The main difference between the Ravagers and the Hellbringers is the Hellbringers’ approach to war: as opposed to methodical professionalism, the Hellbringers were more volatile fighters with more close combat capability and a berserker disposition. The Hellbringers worshipped the spirit of war itself, something they named “Tereza� after an ancient warrior goddess some early Sternsieglich (supreme commander of the Sternsieg) had liked the sound of. The Hellbringers form warrior lodges between their bond brothers in the name of Tereza, which form the closest thing these ferocious men had to a social life. Tereza was a harsh mistress, and the Hellbringers were only too happy to suffer death and destruction in the depths of space for her. War was a friend to the Hellbringers, and while Captain Dolph Kyt no longer considered himself one of them, he certainly was in his approach to death.

Kalt Belmark respected the Captain greatly, and always enjoyed his company when he rarely mingled at the lodge. Lich Belmark was happy to die for Zerstorendar, and even happier to die for one who would have been his bond brother had fates been changed only a little. The Captain’s orders were to hold the main corridor of the ship against around ninety foes. Kalt had eleven Hellbringers under his command. He licked his lips.
What a slaughter this would be.

Each Hellbringer, being the product of the most advanced physical enhancement technologies and regimes Zerstorendar had access to (and told anyone about), was equipped perfectly for close quarters combat inside ships, in the depths of space, and on the hull if necessary. Their suits vastly boosted the reflexes of the wearer and provided great protection against most small arms, especially those the pirates had access to, and were filled with nanites that would repair both flesh and suit if damaged. The biggest difference between the Hellbringer powersuits and the powersuits of the ground-based Ravagers was the gravitational magnetics that only the former possess. The Hellbringers fought on the wall and roof as often as they fought on the floor, and could move very quickly on all surfaces.

They could also do interesting things like crawl around on the outside of the ship and plant charges on boarding vessels.

The Hellinor’s computer systems had already calculated the landing position of the three small enemy transports. Two Hellbringers were already on the outer hull, equipped with enough demolition charges to sunder all four transports. The only problem was that from time of attachment to the hull to penetration to release of the pirate marines was only about thirty seconds, which didn’t provide time to destroy each transport. It would, however, kill whichever of the pirate marines that had not vacated the transport by the time the charges went off.
The main defensive corridor of the Hellinor was both an advantage and a disadvantage. Boarders were forced to make their way up the four metre wide, thirty metre long through a gauntlet of defensive fire. However, there was little room for the Hellbringers to run along the walls, and only three of them were standing upside-down on the darkened hallway roof. The lights had been turned off and the Hellbringers were relying on their powersuits for vision, which was not an issue in the slightest. The pirate marines would likely have similar gear, however, and the surprise of being shot at by men both on the ground and the roof would quickly wear off. They weren’t Zerstorendarian quality, but pirate marines knew their business.

The other problem, of course, was that if the Sternsieg marines failed, the pirates would easily overrun the rest of the ship. Lich Belmark, however, wouldn’t allow that to happen. He was sure he was going to die today, but it was going to be in a glorious explosion that consumed the entire ship: not face to face with some inferior bastard not great enough for the Zerstorendarian military.

The ship shook as the Hellinor’s guns fired, and lurched as the ship moved to a position where returning fire would be minimal. Belmark grinned fiercely: the Captain wasn’t going to go down easily either.

The pirate transports landed on the hull with a massively loud thud, the inertial dampeners saving the human cargo from being badly injured in the impact. The transport started cutting through the Hellinor’s hull. One of the pirates could swear he noticed two enemy soldiers standing on the hull of the ship on their way in, but dismissed it as irrelevant. He heard a very light bang on the hull of the transport, and again dismissed it. As the cutting lasers finished cutting through the hull, an umbilical extended to allow the pirate marines easy access into the ship. They moved out with reasonable precision two at a time, and received reports of similarly successful penetrations from the other two attack teams. As the last few men left each transport, they exploded. The communication lines crackled into life as each team reported four to seven casualties. However, with between forty to fifty soldiers operational and such a small ship, the surviving, if shaken, pirates decided to proceed with the mission. They did, however request that the final troop transport be dispatched and request that the damaged gunships hold fire during the boarding operation. The commander of the pirate force was becoming quite flustered, but was still confident of success.

The pirate marines were equipped with adamantine combat knives, cheap black market energy weapons, and suits of extremely outdated power armour. There was, however, forty two of them with twenty more on the way. The Hellbringers were armed with wrist-mounted power blades, small energy knives, state of the art Zerstorendarian powersuits, and energy-based sidearms that were far more powerful than the rifles used by the pirates, and perfectly suited to close range ship combat. Hellbringers were close combat experts, and were at home in any sort of swirling melee. However, there were only ten of them, the two who had planted charges on the outside of the ship currently enroute.


Captain Kyt grimaced as he heard the sounds of combat between his troops and the boarders. He heard the discharge of energy rifles, the more distinctive discharge of Zerstorendarian issue energy pistols, and smiled despite himself as he heard the satisfying sound of powered blades and energy weapons slicing through flesh. He was confident the boarders would be repelled, and then he could begin the final stage of his plan. The honour of the Zerstorendarian navy would be earned today.


Belmark spun on his heel and beheaded a pirate marine with his wristblade, and blocked a clumsy stab with his energy knife. He sliced the man’s hand off and slashed both of his blades through the man’s neck. He fired his pistol four times into the helmet of another pirate marine, the third and fourth shots penetrating the power armour and obliterating the man above the shoulders. The combat was violent, but one-sided. The rest of his soldiers fought with all the ability and strength he knew they possessed, and only two of his men had fallen in the exchange of fire as the two sides charged down the corridor. As he disarmed and slew another foe and delivered a powerful kick that broke the neck of a pirate who had lost his helmet, he made a quick scan of the melee. His two soldiers from the outside of the ship had arrived and he could hear the pirate reinforcements penetrating the hull already, but the situation seemed to be well in hand. Two Hellbringers were down, though he could see their suits were already repairing the non-mortal damage they had sustained. They would be back in the fight in a matter of minutes. The formidable pirate marines, however, had probably lost half of their number and were performing poorly in the furious hand to hand combat. The Hellbringers avoided blows with inhuman speed, their suit’s combat AI providing them with incredible reflexes, and killed with both precision and bloodlust. In the darkness, the illumination of energy weaponry would have seemed quite beautiful, but neither side was interested in appreciating it. The pirate marines were not capable of close quarters combat with such experts, and they had no hope of holding. Their twenty reinforcements poured into the fight, but by that point their morale was shattered and the ten Hellbringers, as well as the two picking themselves up, were assured of victory. With nowhere to retreat to, the marines resignedly fought to the death with the vain intention of pulling a few of their opponents down with them. Though the suit filtered it, Belmark knew the air would be rank with the smell of burned flesh, blood, and death. Brilliant.

Unfortunately, the fight itself disappointed the Lich and his men. All things considered, it was rather anti-climactic.


“Ship secured sir. We’ll be removing the enemy transports momentarily and proceeding with phase two.�
“I trust you didn’t have too much trouble with such a paltry enemy force?� Kyt grinned as Belmark frowned:
“It wasn’t a problem sir�.
“Excellent. Things will get interesting now, I doubt any of us will survive.�
“As long as it IS interesting�.


The pirate commander was incensed, as well as surprised at his own stupidity. Sending eighty of his men into the jaws of a Zerstorendarian Hellbringer detachment? Unforgivable. Ordering both of his gunships to adopt an attack formation and fire at will, the pirate commander vowed to correct his error.

The twelve survivors of his pirate forces were on the way back in the last transport, and they would be punished severely for their failure. He had heard nothing from his troops between the initial boarding to the recent notification of failure, though he was surprised the Hellbringers let any survive at all.


Kyt saw the pirate gunships prepare to attack, the damaged one keeping its damaged side safe and bringing its undamaged guns to bear. The pirates were now cautious and would be far less interested in capturing their vessel if Kyt continued to resist. Pirate commanders were notoriously proud, and if a few of his men had to go with half-rations for a month or so, it was a small price to pay for vengeance. Kyt almost laughed as he wondered how angry the pirate commander must be at the twelve surviving troops on their way back to one of the gunships. He’ll be even angrier soon.

The SVA Hellinor’s cargo was important, but there was no getting out of this one with it intact. The manifest of the Hellinor included a shipment of finely crafted gold and diamond military medals and the remains of a military hero of some importance. Of less import was a prototype high-yield low-effective range explosive equipped with a miniature blink drive that, when meticulously configured with the correct settings, data, and coordinates, could be teleported into an enemy ship.
There were protections against such a weapon that the designers had not yet found a counter for, so Kyt decided that if he rammed an enemy ship and set it off then it would still probably have the desired effect. Meanwhile, Lich Belmark and his Hellbringers would hijack one of the pirate gunships and attempt to get the medals and the warrior’s remains back to Zerstorendarian space. If everything went well, Belmark and his men would live to fight another day, the pirates would die, the honour of Zerstorendar would be maintained, the Hellinor’s crew would be cited as heroes and Kyt would get a ship named after him.


The pirate commander, fortunately for him, was not on the ship that the Hellbringers were about to infiltrate. The two pirate gunships opened fire on the Hellinor, causing little damage initially but as their salvoes became more accurate, the damange was more telling. Kyt lowered the blast shields over the viewscreen of his ship and charged straight at the lead gunship while returning fire.

The Hellinor took some more serious hits, weapons control becoming ineffective and auxiliary systems such as communications and life support beginning to fail completely. None of these systems factored into Kyt’s plans, he just needed to get close enough to the gunship. He trusted the Hellbringers to claim victory on the other pirate vessel.

Perhaps sensing what was happening, the pirate commander ordered that the situation be contained and departed on his personal craft, disappearing quickly in a random direction as he made his way to safety without revealing the location of the pirate base. Kyt wasn’t concerned with his escape: Zerstorendar did not tolerate pirates, and their base would soon be found. The casualties onboard the Verbermord merchant vessel were heavy, but word had been sent to the Captain that the bomb was prepared and could be detonated at a moment’s notice. Everything was going according to plan. The excitement and trepidation of the bridge was palpable.
“Impact in 60…59…58……�


The Hellbringers were brought safely into the small hangar of the gunship, and were surrounded by pirate crewman. The transport opened up and the Hellbringers charged out, mercilessly slaughtering anyone in the hangar. The pirate spacecraft was only about 300 metres long and the crew had no idea they had been boarded. Leading from the front, Lich Kalt Belmark and his eleven blooded Hellbringers unsubtly made their way to the bridge, moving at full pace without so much as pausing to slaughter whoever they encountered, gunning them down as they ran. By the time they emerged onto the bridge the pirates had only just been notified of a security breach, and the marines on the bridge fired back in a last ditch defence of their ship. The Hellbringers were in their element, spreading out and moving in pairs to overwhelm the dozen or so defenders of the bridge. Two of them were running along the walls and attracting fire from a trio of pirates until a Hellbringer launched himself into them, energy blades singing. A few moments later, the three were no more than burned body parts on the deck. Counter-attacks were sure to come, but Belmark’s troops would not be dislodged and with the bridge theirs, the battle was effectively over. He turned to one of the cowering pirate crewman:

“Move this ship away from your sister ship. Now�. The pirate hesitated for a few seconds, and instead sat there staring blankly. To add some incentive, Belmark leapt over to a crewman in an unadorned outfit and disembowelled him.

“I hope he wasn’t anyone important. Now, perhaps I should rephrase…�


Kyt grinned as the countdown reached 45 and he saw the second pirate gunship stop firing and begin to turn away from what promised be a brilliant sight. The remains of a Zerstorendarian hero had been preserved, continuing the tradition of posthumous respect that made any member of the Zerstorendarian fighting forces proud to serve, and a small box of medals that were apparently very important. And more importantly, the courage of both himself and his crew had been exemplary and unwavering. That was the greatest legacy one could leave.
“…19…18…17…..�


Belmark did not breathe a sigh of relief as his new ship reached the safety threshold, though the surviving pirate bridge crew certainly did. Lich Belmark would have been supremely satisfied to share his death with one such as Dolph Kyt. He saluted, and his Hellbringers followed suit. Only three were absent, busy clearing out the rest of the ship. His back straightened as, unbeknownst to him, the countdown on the Hellinor reached “5�.


“4…3…It was an honour serving with you all!�


The impact of a ship even as small as the SVA Hellinor was tremendous, the fronts of both ships crumpling like paper and killing most of the crew instantly. As the two ships continue to entwine themselves in a mess of twisting metal, the explosive device detonated, scattering remains of both of the ships for thousands of kilometres and creating a bloom of light seen by many who knew nothing of the battle. SVA Hellinor and its crew was no more. Captain Kyt’s legacy, however, did not end there.


+++++

0900 hours ZST, July 5th
11 months after the SVA Hellinor Incident
Sternsieg datalog #00492131

At 0700 ZST, the newly christened Destroyer SVD Kyt encountered a small pirate detachment and engaged. Boarders were ordered to execute pirates on sight and retain high ranking criminals for question. One such criminal was identified as responsible for the destruction of the SVA Hellinor 11 months ago, and is currently under interrogation as Subject #9801. Subject #9801 is scheduled for public execution in two weeks.

The stars belong to the strong.

End datalog.


+++++

[Trailers]

Win.

[Central Facehuggeria]

Win.

I disagree most heartily.

That is not mere win. That is truly epic win. I am very impressed.

[Trailers]

Win.

I disagree most heartily.

That is not mere win. That is truly epic win. I am very impressed.

He blew the shit out of my test response. The long one, that is.

In other news, I'm probably gonna fap to the next scenario.

[Zerstorendar]

Lich Wilhelm Tarson admired his reflection in the mirror as he perfected his uniform. Every member of the Algstern, the Zerstorendarian Police Force, was held up to a standard of dress that rivalled that of the military. The members of the Algstern, known as Controllers, were the law enforcement everywhere in the Zerstorendarian Empire. Lich Tarson was one of the many field officers that commanded the Controllers when on duty, and like most men of his rank, he was highly trained and experienced in a variety of areas. Whether he needed to subdue an armed criminal with his bare hands, hold back a group of drunken Starleague players from overrunning a Playguâ„¢ pie stand, or execute a group of drug traffickers with minimal innocent casualties, Tarson was up to the task. He demanded a lot of his men, and led by example. And he definitely did not put up with the poor discipline reflected in a messy uniform.

His black power suit was similar to those used by Ravagers and Hellbringers in the military, except it provided less protection, did not include nanite-repair systems (among numerous other things), and was easily worn under a dress uniform. As such, Algstern Controllers were immaculately presented at all times; a shotgun blast to the chest would do no more than draw their attention, but they weren’t battlefield equipped. The uniform of a Controller over the powersuit was a black body glove with a diagonal red stripe, a utility belt, control visor and light but resilient backpack. The control visor was very different from anything used in the military, and its functions were less combat oriented and instead allowed a Controller to better carry out his job. It could scan for anything from drugs in a person’s pocket to a tall man with fair skin, and was highly adaptable. It also had powerful air pheromone/chemical/biological/hormone processors that could keep a Controller aware of everything from deodorant composition in the air to the attitude of a crowd. New abilities were added to the helmet all the time, and Tarson was simply thankful his weapons and gear were not nearly as complicated.

Controllers were armed with a three function energy blade. The functions were controlled by a small switch on the handle, and were labelled Nullification, Punishment, and Evisceration. In nullification mode, the energy blade would dispense a powerful shock to anything contacted it. In punishment mode, the blade’s field became a potent repulse field that would require very little force to knock a person to the ground and could be used to dispense grievous injuries if necessary, or if the blade “slipped�. In evisceration mode, the blade was similar in function to the energy combat knife used by the Hellbringers. Controllers also had a small railpistol with two functions: Hit and Miss. Anyone using the latter function in a situation where the railpistol was necessary was harshly punished. Controllers were either highly proficient marksman, or were unemployed. Or dead.

Needless to say, the Controllers are an intimidating reminder of Zerstorend-
Tarson slapped his forehead. All this time sitting here daydreaming and the clock had still been ticking. He packed his visor into his backpack and raced toward his warpchamber. Apartments were seen as second-rate accommodation in Rend, the capital city of Zerstorendar. Anyone with real money, such as a Controller, a member of the military, government agent, professional fighter, gamer or businessman owned one of the many houses that filled the designated living districts of Rend. Each house had its own front yard that lined the roads for ground traffic, and high fences enclosed the more private backyards of each house. Each house in this middle-upper class living district was quite similar, as Zerstorendar’s architects were, while talented, brought up in a school that taught uniformity as the most effective method of architecture. Individual buildings rarely stood out from those around them unless strictly necessary, and blocks of buildings were constructed to look good as a group, not individually. This could easily be construed as a lack of creativity on the part of the city designers, but Zerstorendarians simply liked it more that way, and they didn’t particularly care who thought otherwise.

Rend was a meticulously planned city where ground traffic and air traffic congestion was kept to a minimum by public teleportation hubs, and people often made their way to work from the nearest hub on foot. Physical fitness was one of many elements taking for granted in Zerstorendarian culture, with even the most sedentary personalities capable of moving quite well if pressed. A respectable physical appearance in Zerstorendar was achieved not only with dress, but with physique, and for those without a lot of money was seen as the best way to gain some sort of respect in society.

Tarson, everything required for a day at the Civil Protection Office stored in his backpack, raced into the warpchamber of his home and entered the coordinates of the Office teleport hub. Many houses in Zerstorendar had a warpchamber, and it was the preferred method of transport for those that could be needed at a moment’s notice, such as a Controller. He stepped in, sealed the small chamber that was entered through a door next to the kitchen, and closed his eyes. Light crackled around him and his senses went blind for a few moments before he arrived at his destination. He stepped from the warpchamber in the arrival chamber, checked in, and reported for duty in the Civil Protection Office barracks. The Office was a massive building, housing six thousand Controllers and support personnel at any given time. The rooms were mostly tall, impressive chambers with marble tiles and polished metallic walls. The barracks was no different, except the floors were a rich wood. The barracks was home for all Controllers, where they trained, congregated, trained some more and competed. Tarson arrived just as morning inspection was beginning. He made his way to the front of his unit and stood at attention. Behind him were the fifty men of Unit 052. To his left was Unit 051, and to his right was Unit 054. Unit 053 recently went missing, and its disappearance was something the ranking officers at the Office had not yet talked about. Perhaps they would today.

The Office Castellan, one of one hundred and fifty such Castellans under the supreme command of the Algsternlich, took his place at the podium. The podium was a powerful reminder of authority, two metres above the four and a half thousand assembled Controllers and engraved with the symbol of the Algstern below the Zerstorendarian flag. A much larger flag and engraving on the back wall framed the Castellan as he spoke:

“Another fine day in the great city of Rend, provided for us by the Glorious Kaiserlich (Dictator/Emperor of Zerstorendar). Peace through Power�- as the Castellan spoke the motto of the Algstern each man clasped their fist to their breast- “and glory to the Empire.�

The Castellan glared for a moment before continuing: “First of all, I am sure you are all aware of Unit 053’s recent disappearance. There is to be no more questions, and they have not disappeared. Is that clear?�
“Yes sir!� the Collector’s replied as one. Whatever had happened to Unit 053, it was either serious or secret, and none of their concern. Wilhelm was thankful that his features were concealed by his control visor as he grimaced in disappointment. It had been too long since he had seen some real action.

Unit 051 received their orders: along with Units 045-070, they were to patrol District five. Tarson was again glad nobody could see him roll his eyes as he stood at attention: District five was one of the most stable districts in Rend, and today would most likely be another exercise in observing the daily routines of his fellow citizens.

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Controllers travelled using patrol craft that were essentially highly modified atmospheric fighter craft. The missile banks were replaced with gas-tube launchers that could be used to turn hundreds of people into mewling wrecks, and the highly-lethal kinetic weaponry was completely intact. The Algstern patrol craft utilized Vertical Take Off and Landing and were considerably slower than the fighters they were based off, their speed ranging from 50 km/hr to Mach 1. As such, they could be used to save the Controllers a couple of minutes of walking by hopping over a large building, or transport criminals to the Office and return in a matter of minutes. Of course, when arresting offenders, the Controllers most often utilized the public teleportation system.

Tarson didn’t pilot the craft, he let one of his more capable subordinates handle that. Unit 051 was split up into ten groups of five and placed strategically to respond to any calls for help/intervention by the citizenry of Rend. Tarson and his five controllers were currently landing the in District five central plaza. They patrol craft descended carefully to give the milling civilians below plenty of time to vacate. One man did not react and the craft hovered above him, blasting him with hot air, until he finally got the message. He was probably on something illegal, and would be Tarson’s first incident for the day.

District five was rather cosmopolitan as far as Zerstorendarian cities went, populated by people of all political views and accents. There were a few foreigners around, and the Controllers eyed them carefully as they went about their business. Non-Zerstorendarians were troublemakers and had to be treated harshly lest they destabilize society. The six Controllers disembarked from their craft, leaving it where it was and completely open. No criminal fool enough to approach it. Interfering with the business of a Controller was punishable by death. Admittedly, it was also common knowledge that the security systems of the craft could kill intruders in a number of ways. Career criminals in Zerstorendar were small scale operators, constantly fearful of attracting the attention of the omniscient Algstern, and tended to leave the Controllers to their business.

The officers approached the obviously bewildered man who had been slow to move from under the patrol craft, the Lich in lead. Wilhelm’s control visor instantly picked up airborne indicators of the use of Skooma, an illegal and highly addictive substance that was the drug of choice for all junkies in Rend. The man had broken the law and would be treated accordingly. The effects of the drug on the man were plain to see, and though the crowded plaza knew what was going to happen, only a few were interested enough to watch as the man was beaten to the ground, his features scanned for implantation into a criminal watchlist, and left injured on the ground. Psychological surveys on countless Zerstorendarians had found that public beatings, a record as an offender, and liberal application of the death sentence was a more effective deterrent to crime than incarceration, and as such incarceration had become much less common over the last few hundred years.

Tarson and his Controllers wandered through the crowed, their control visors picking up perfumes, sport-enhancement drugs, legal physical implants that drew the gaze of one of the more excitable Controllers, and the attitude of the crowd registered as “Calmly Compliant� on their visual displays. Most of the people around them Controllers were on their way to work, partaking in some sort of public exercise, or leisurely wandering around. Loitering was one of the few crimes in Zerstorendar that the Controllers did not bother to punish, and the law enforcement officers left numerous people blocking foot traffic while they excitedly messaged friends on the latest neural-comm system, exchanging everything from sordid details to recipes. Tarson smirked as he overheard a grinning man share a recipe for cookies that was more a recipe for fire than anything else.

The buildings surrounding Tarson and the mass of people, while similar, were subtly different and easily recognised by anyone native to Zerstorendar. There was a pair of public fitness facilities packed with loyal, productive men and women. There were military recruitment offices on either side of the plaza, and a building that did not allow entry to the public and was probably a scientific research facility of some kind. Most of it would be underground and Tereza (the spirit of war, only used as a mild expletive by anyone not sharing the beliefs of the quasi-religious Hellbringers) knew what sort of experiments they carried on in there on a daily basis. It wasn’t his concern however; government agents would monitor that sort of work.

The plaza also contained a large theatre featuring the latest neurovid cinematics and holo-amusements, most of which were war epics. Tarson silently vowed to steer his wife away from the horrid looking “Love Can Bloom� and “Over nine thousand things I hate about you�, and more toward the likes of “Huge Guts 2: Rip and Tear� or “Captain King Arthur: Knights of the Round Robin�. Actually, to hell with the last one, the name was too long. And something told Tarson that his wife would hate Rip and Tear. Hmm, perhaps she would be more interested in something else, he thought as his eyes wandered to the nearby elite gaming stadium. In three nights the stadium would be packed with a million people to watch [Ocean]Ibus and N-E.Time play for the golden neuromouse in the Battlecraft League Final. Tarson would be there. Tereza’s blood, he would be there.

Tarson noticed the towering shipyards of Rend in the distance. Despite being many kilometres away, the scaffolds, hangars, construction facilities and launch bays towered far into the sky. Such a reminder of Zerstorendar’s military might and power among the stars was immensely satisfying for each of the Controllers, men who but for a twist of fate could have chosen to become Ravagers or Hellbringers instead. Or even one of the mysterious Blitzmord, a well known but little understood branch of the Zerstorendarian military. The shipyard employed tens of thousands of people, as did the massive superstructures on the outer skirts of Rend that manufactured arms for the Zanekrieger and Sternkrieger. In fact, probably a quarter of Rend’s population was involved in some sort of military production.

As midday approached and little of note had happened, the Controllers regrouped at a pretzel stand for a snack, lining up behind other hungry citizens at a Playgu Preztels stand. A pair of foreigners who were obviously not familiar with the local dialect were attempting to buy more than they could pay for, and the debate between the vendors and prospective buyers was becoming more and more intense. Tarson gestured for one of his Controllers to handle it, as he was too hungry to bother with something so trivial. The Controller put a hand on each of the foreigner’s shoulders, expecting that they would react as any Zerstorendarian citizen would and instantly cease the disturbance. Instead they pushed the Controller’s hands off, and began yelling loudly, of which Tarson only understood one word. As the rebuffed Controller beat them both to the ground and dragged them from the stand, their cries of “PLAYGUUU, PLAYYYYGUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU� were silenced. Damned foreigners.

As the day became hotter, the fabrics that made up Zerstorendarian clothing adapted by opening the pores, minimizing sweating. In Rend, people mostly wore fully enclosing bodygloves, suits or civilian variants of military uniform. Two shirtless men wandered through the crowd and were asked to clothe themselves. They refused, and legally the Controllers could not act upon it. Walking around shirtless was not quite indecent exposure, but was seen as rather boorish. Tarson did, however, record their features to be placed on a watchlist. Legally, Tarson could not make them clothe themselves, but these two men would most likely incur a mild beating in the future for loitering.

If one was a professional gladiator, however, one could walk around half naked and be seen as a hero by the public. Genetically enhanced and trained to the level of a Ravager but instead fighting for entertainment, gladiators were popular figures in the public eye. While gladiators had been publicly executed in the past for assaulting Controllers, even the law enforcement had some respect for these men. Tarson’s favourite was Skeletor, so named because he used the bones of great beasts he has killed in training as both armour and weapons. He actually looked rather impressive in his fanged helmet, massive bony suit of armour, shield and club taken from the bodies of Rapierfang lions. It’s a shame Skeletor, or Frech as he was known to Tarson, never became a Ravager or Hellbringer, but Wilhelm was still quite pleased with how his son had turned out.

As the sun began to set on another uninteresting day, Tarson’s thoughts once again began to wander to home. A Controller lived like any other man when not on duty, and that involved online shopping, domestic quarrels, and alcoholic beverages in front of the holoprojector in time for the evening news, just like any other man. What separated the Controllers from normal people was their job and the skills and experienced associated with it. That was the problem with uninteresting patrols in law-abiding District five: one might as well wander around all day thinking about Battlecraft build orders.

The displays of the six Controllers lit up at that moment, notifying the men of a serious disturbance nearby. The day shift was nearly over, but Wilhelm thanked Tereza it now looked like it would end with a bang. They six men sprinted back to the patrol craft, took off, and landed a few hundred metres from the given coordinates.

The park around them was an exact replica of a famous ancient battlefield, and many Zerstorendarians went to relax at such parks. Sports were played, picnics were had and services were carried out on its alternatively grassy, rocky and elevated ground. Kilometres in diameter, the park allowed groups such as the funeral to proceed with their service in relative peace while children and weary parents played further away. Because the parks were modelled on ancient battlefields, many Ravagers requested their service take place on what was essentially a field of war for later internment.

From this distance, the enhanced senses of their visors could already pick up the noise of a serious disturbance. As they entered a large park, they saw a gathering that could only be a military funeral being harassed by a group of twenty or so fanatics from the “Wilhelm’s Baptismal Coronation� group, better known as WBC. They were a militant religious group that railed against everything the state stood for, most outrageous of which was their belief that the “Only good Ravager is a dead Ravager�, as stated on their bright, holographic protest signs. In the past, such groups as this had been denounced by the Kaiserlich himself and culled in mass public executions, but the WBC was now a guinea pig for a new operation known as “Bait and Exorcise�, named in mockery of the WBC’s anarchist religious beliefs. The most radical, destabilizing elements of Zerstorendarian society, emboldened by the lack of government action against the WBC, were drawn in as membership of the rapidly growing group. Bait and Exorcise involved using the group as a scapegoat for public outrage while carefully monitoring its membership to be dealt with at a later date. The WBC’s religion stated that certain enlightened individuals could be taken to heaven at any time, which was perfect for the Kaiserlich’s operations. The most outspoken and dangerous WBC members were constantly disappearing from the earth completely, much to the delight of the WBC’s members. Since the founder of their group (currently deceased) bore the same name as Tarson, however, he took the group’s actions personally.

“The only good Ravager is a dead Ravager� was not a remotely intelligent thing to display in a protest at the funeral of a Ravager attended by an eight man fully armed Ravager honour guard. The people in the park looked on with a mixture of horror and excitement as events unfolded. In their all-enclosing power suits, the stoic Ravagers were obviously take great efforts to restrain themselves as the protestors jeered and the funeral-goers became increasingly agitated, and the Controllers drew their blades as they approached the protest group. At a cursory glance, Tarson decided that the protestors were guilty of disturbing the public peace, carrying out unlicensed activities, trespassing in a restricted area, sedition, anarchy and Treason. Tarson thumbed the activator on his energy blade labelled “Evisceration�. His men did the same. The Lich suddenly stopped as a thought occurred to him. He opened the standard operational comm. channel used by off-duty Ravagers to hail the eight infuriated funeral guard.
“A public execution of these poor fools may be exceeding my authority. Perhaps you could deal with this situation better than I?�
“Affirmative�, a Ravager replied.
“Weapons free�, the same voice stated to his men.
Tarson smiled as he headed back to the patrol craft. Apparently the protestors were guilty of inciting violence as well. Knowing Ravagers, they would be professional enough to clean up after themselves.

All the Controllers were thinking the same thing: Hopefully the Battlecraft would still be on when they got home.

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