Regenmacher
Autor
01/08/2025 02:24
It was one of those days again. He stepped out of the corner office, which had become too comfortable for him by now, to take on a task entrusted to him by the authorities. His presence, noticeable to everyone, was that of a fighter, a warrior. But his official attire didn't feature a handheld laser like those issued to officers, or even the hilt of an ostentatious lightsaber like those worn by followers of decadent, cult-like military orders. No, he chose other weapons for his conflicts. He saw his value in planning and structuring operations. He relied on the foundation of every civilization, every society: law and order. Where others saw only the banality of concluding contracts, negotiating deals, or signing deals, he penetrated a plane full of infinite possibilities to create situations, to start and end conflicts, to create circumstances and relationships for progress and prosperity. He acquires knowledge of the core understanding and identity of every culture. He analyzes complex economic structures and acquires knowledge of ancient law. But ultimately, he is also someone who creates trust in the service of his nation. Instead of complicated explanations, he reconciles events with his mandate and, if necessary, lulls his people to sleep with the song of Bellum Justum.
Where were we? So he stepped out, toward his mission. The subject of his mission was the renewal of a trade agreement. It involved the exchange of technologies for raw materials. That sounds like a fairly standard procedure? Yes, it was! And thus also its core business. Everything had been planned meticulously for months, so his stay was limited to just a week. Fortunately, most of the organization of his visit was taken over of for him. The bombastic nature of the briefs as well. A young team led by a young woman, scion of a warrior family, who was now embarking on a somewhat unconventional career. Despite all the criticism. True to the motto, success proves her right. She succeeded in one daring feat after another. But what was, in his eyes, the most impressive achievement was the fact that she managed to form a team of upstarts as well as ancient aristocracy and nobility. Something he had to admit he never achieved. He simply burned his fingers and now concentrated more on promoting careerists. In short, even more work as a reward for good work. What irony bordering on censure. But let's not forget the prestige behind it. Such an act of cooperation between nations also brings with it a series of cultural exchanges. Often superficial, often of feigned interest, but always lengthy.
The reception ceremony was so pompous and bloated that it reached an unpleasant level. The entire staging struck him as a farce. Its focus on legacy and tradition came across as so inauthentic. From costume to architecture, there was no harmony, no naturalness between old and new. It was as if the traditional elements were glued onto the new. Nothing possessed a dignified vitality. Instead, the weapon-laden defenses, absurdly over-armed parade ships, and ostentatious buildings screamed: damned nouveau riche! Another highlight of the visit was the exchange of gifts. Priceless artifacts and all manner of literature were exchanged. But one ceremony unsettled him. They wanted a blood gift. Of course, he didn't let on at first, but inside he was raging, damned barbarians. He gave in, and they bled him. They extracted an almost critical amount from him in a pseudo-occult, ancient atmosphere. For the first time, such emotion was visible in the face of the highest representative. His eyes shone, and he could barely conceal a smug smile.
The visit was drawing to a close, so he met with his first officer for a final meeting. "Kya, how do you assess this whole thing? Officials, and what does your gut feeling tell you?" he asked, still somewhat weakened. "I was invited to various committees and board meetings during our time there. I had comprehensive insight and was granted access easily and without complications. But at no point was I treated with true honesty. I should have seen everything I saw. They were able to implement our technologies well. But their mining methods are incomprehensible to me. Their energy consumption is too low to be sufficient for their own needs and surplus production. Budget debates are being held about mega-housing projects. In my opinion, they are enslaving their own people by the millions. Oh, what am I saying, billions of times!" she reports, and the disgust in her voice was particularly audible in the last sentences. "Surely, enslaving one's people on this scale should destabilize society to the point where it would lead to verifiable unrest. And the Intergalactic Control Committee hasn't been able to prove any mass subjugation or abductions. Kya! Send me the report files. I'll confront the representatives about it. I have a dark premonition...."
"Don't overstretch our hospitality," said the supreme representative coolly. "We can find other buyers. Be aware of that." "And remember my blood gift. With it, you have bound yourself and your people to our agreement," he retorted sharply. "Oh yes... that! Well, it is indeed symbolic. It is the symbol of our revenge. Like many peoples, you have only looked down on us. But now we are your equals." "What are you doing? You were able to ascend several levels of civilization within a very short time. And, together with us, create the foundation for a prosperous future.", he replies indignantly, "And anyway, don't make fools of yourselves. What do you want with that little bit of blood? Display it in a museum? Or should everyone pee on it? Maybe then it'll be enough for a small lake that everyone with misguided thoughts of revenge can make a pilgrimage to." "Now your arrogance shows. You don't understand anything! We'll extract the DNA from your blood and cross it with our material. This is how we breed a slave race based on your race. he replies indignantly, That is the symbol of the final humiliation." The top executive showed a triumphant expression. "Okay... pretty unacceptable," he retorted, giving him a swift slap in the face that immediately knocked him to the ground. "You bastard, I'll skin you for that!" whimpered the top executive. "Well, let's see..."
"Kya, flee immediately! Take the Pathfinder. I'll follow with the prototype!" came over the voice link. "Understood!" Now he had to sneak to the hangar. Which he managed, but just before reaching his destination, a fireball erupted. This didn't look good. Parts of the Pathfinder-class crashed to the ground, glowing. Damn it, the delegation was lost. But he had no time to be sorry; he had to get out of here. A second fireball destroyed the hangar where their squadron was housed. Now the outlook grew darker. But what did he see? A firefight flashed in the night. Parts of the delegation must still be there. He charged forward. He flanked the guards and neutralized them. "Stop! It's me! Who's there?" he shouted into the darkness. "First Officer Kya!" someone answered. "What luck! What happened?" he asked. "We had no chance. They hacked our voice link and located us. We had to fight our way through, and some made it to the ship. These bastards were apparently able to bypass the anti-tracking protection and simply shot them down. What should we do now?" she said with a questioning expression. He thought for a moment and, with a thoughtful expression, said, "I might have an idea. We need to go to the destroyed prototype and use the escape pod to get away from here. Their stealth mode is still experimental and is probably our last hope."
They reached the wreckage and were able to take off. After leaving the manual fire range, the guided weapons also failed, and the interceptors couldn't detect them. "This is the commander-in-chief of the delegation from the 3rd Galaxy. I authorize the deployment of three battlecruiser flotillas. Jump immediately and engage the enemy in combat at our coordinates. The goal is the destruction of all military spacecraft and the confiscation of all unlawfully acquired and carried raw materials. The nation is watching you!"
The battle was a complete victory. But the oversized defensive bastions remained unchallenged. But he already had the right person in mind. His name? Lilac Mood Bear! Don't let his sunny disposition mislead you. He's an aspiring commander full of drive and the power of numerous capital ships that will tear apart enemy strongholds like ulcers.
That was the mission in the name of the people, and once again, vast quantities of valuable resources were secured. That's why they call him the Rainmaker.
Comentario principal
Where were we? So he stepped out, toward his mission. The subject of his mission was the renewal of a trade agreement. It involved the exchange of technologies for raw materials. That sounds like a fairly standard procedure? Yes, it was! And thus also its core business. Everything had been planned meticulously for months, so his stay was limited to just a week. Fortunately, most of the organization of his visit was taken over of for him. The bombastic nature of the briefs as well. A young team led by a young woman, scion of a warrior family, who was now embarking on a somewhat unconventional career. Despite all the criticism. True to the motto, success proves her right. She succeeded in one daring feat after another. But what was, in his eyes, the most impressive achievement was the fact that she managed to form a team of upstarts as well as ancient aristocracy and nobility. Something he had to admit he never achieved. He simply burned his fingers and now concentrated more on promoting careerists. In short, even more work as a reward for good work. What irony bordering on censure. But let's not forget the prestige behind it. Such an act of cooperation between nations also brings with it a series of cultural exchanges. Often superficial, often of feigned interest, but always lengthy.
The reception ceremony was so pompous and bloated that it reached an unpleasant level. The entire staging struck him as a farce. Its focus on legacy and tradition came across as so inauthentic. From costume to architecture, there was no harmony, no naturalness between old and new. It was as if the traditional elements were glued onto the new. Nothing possessed a dignified vitality. Instead, the weapon-laden defenses, absurdly over-armed parade ships, and ostentatious buildings screamed: damned nouveau riche! Another highlight of the visit was the exchange of gifts. Priceless artifacts and all manner of literature were exchanged. But one ceremony unsettled him. They wanted a blood gift. Of course, he didn't let on at first, but inside he was raging, damned barbarians. He gave in, and they bled him. They extracted an almost critical amount from him in a pseudo-occult, ancient atmosphere. For the first time, such emotion was visible in the face of the highest representative. His eyes shone, and he could barely conceal a smug smile.
The visit was drawing to a close, so he met with his first officer for a final meeting. "Kya, how do you assess this whole thing? Officials, and what does your gut feeling tell you?" he asked, still somewhat weakened. "I was invited to various committees and board meetings during our time there. I had comprehensive insight and was granted access easily and without complications. But at no point was I treated with true honesty. I should have seen everything I saw. They were able to implement our technologies well. But their mining methods are incomprehensible to me. Their energy consumption is too low to be sufficient for their own needs and surplus production. Budget debates are being held about mega-housing projects. In my opinion, they are enslaving their own people by the millions. Oh, what am I saying, billions of times!" she reports, and the disgust in her voice was particularly audible in the last sentences. "Surely, enslaving one's people on this scale should destabilize society to the point where it would lead to verifiable unrest. And the Intergalactic Control Committee hasn't been able to prove any mass subjugation or abductions. Kya! Send me the report files. I'll confront the representatives about it. I have a dark premonition...."
"Don't overstretch our hospitality," said the supreme representative coolly. "We can find other buyers. Be aware of that." "And remember my blood gift. With it, you have bound yourself and your people to our agreement," he retorted sharply. "Oh yes... that! Well, it is indeed symbolic. It is the symbol of our revenge. Like many peoples, you have only looked down on us. But now we are your equals." "What are you doing? You were able to ascend several levels of civilization within a very short time. And, together with us, create the foundation for a prosperous future.", he replies indignantly, "And anyway, don't make fools of yourselves. What do you want with that little bit of blood? Display it in a museum? Or should everyone pee on it? Maybe then it'll be enough for a small lake that everyone with misguided thoughts of revenge can make a pilgrimage to." "Now your arrogance shows. You don't understand anything! We'll extract the DNA from your blood and cross it with our material. This is how we breed a slave race based on your race. he replies indignantly, That is the symbol of the final humiliation." The top executive showed a triumphant expression. "Okay... pretty unacceptable," he retorted, giving him a swift slap in the face that immediately knocked him to the ground. "You bastard, I'll skin you for that!" whimpered the top executive. "Well, let's see..."
"Kya, flee immediately! Take the Pathfinder. I'll follow with the prototype!" came over the voice link. "Understood!" Now he had to sneak to the hangar. Which he managed, but just before reaching his destination, a fireball erupted. This didn't look good. Parts of the Pathfinder-class crashed to the ground, glowing. Damn it, the delegation was lost. But he had no time to be sorry; he had to get out of here. A second fireball destroyed the hangar where their squadron was housed. Now the outlook grew darker. But what did he see? A firefight flashed in the night. Parts of the delegation must still be there. He charged forward. He flanked the guards and neutralized them. "Stop! It's me! Who's there?" he shouted into the darkness. "First Officer Kya!" someone answered. "What luck! What happened?" he asked. "We had no chance. They hacked our voice link and located us. We had to fight our way through, and some made it to the ship. These bastards were apparently able to bypass the anti-tracking protection and simply shot them down. What should we do now?" she said with a questioning expression. He thought for a moment and, with a thoughtful expression, said, "I might have an idea. We need to go to the destroyed prototype and use the escape pod to get away from here. Their stealth mode is still experimental and is probably our last hope."
They reached the wreckage and were able to take off. After leaving the manual fire range, the guided weapons also failed, and the interceptors couldn't detect them. "This is the commander-in-chief of the delegation from the 3rd Galaxy. I authorize the deployment of three battlecruiser flotillas. Jump immediately and engage the enemy in combat at our coordinates. The goal is the destruction of all military spacecraft and the confiscation of all unlawfully acquired and carried raw materials. The nation is watching you!"
The battle was a complete victory. But the oversized defensive bastions remained unchallenged. But he already had the right person in mind. His name? Lilac Mood Bear! Don't let his sunny disposition mislead you. He's an aspiring commander full of drive and the power of numerous capital ships that will tear apart enemy strongholds like ulcers.
That was the mission in the name of the people, and once again, vast quantities of valuable resources were secured. That's why they call him the Rainmaker.