Lroon
05-09-2006, 02:10
The Freethinkers of Quoarn. It was a small village, a few huge farms supporting the rest. For the most part, the rest of the village focused on science. Cutting edge computer technology, new fertilizers, that sort of thing.
The only weaponry was a few hunting rifles kept to supplement the farm diet in lean months. There was no organized police force, no military, not even any government. A tiny, ideal community.
It was also sitting on the border of The Rogue Nation of Lroon. It was from there that the distinguished guest had come tonight.
“Well, Mr. Groll, we’re all very grateful for your offer, but the results are in, and you can see that the Freethinkers of Quoarn really aren’t interested in joining the Rogue Nation of Lroon,” said the spokesperson, coming up to him.
“Yes.” Mr. Groll cast an eye over the ballots. “Unanimous, was it?”
“Yes, yes, indeed it was Mr. Groll.”
“Well that certainly makes my job a tad easier, eh?”
“I’m not certain I follow you Mr. Groll.”
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t like to be held responsible for the deaths of anyone who had voted to join us, now would I?”
“I beg your pardon?” The spokesman was confused and a little frightened, which made him snap. A second later there the small sound, of a silenced gun firing, and the spokesman fell over backwards, with a look of absolute shock on his face. Mr. Groll calmly drew a second gun, this one a flare gun, and fired it into the air. A few moments later, a man came running up.
Mr. Groll took several quick step forwards as the man stared unbelievingly at the spokesman’s body. He placed his hand over the man’s mouth and shot him in the chest.
***
About the time that the body of Mr. Groll’s second victim hit the ground, a farmer drove up to his farm. He got out of the car, and was halfway to the door when a figure stepped out of the shadows, and threw an arm around his throat.
“Green flare,” he whispered in the farmer’s ear. “That means the vote was unanimous, eh?” The farmer let out a small whimper as the knife entered his back between his shoulder blades, but didn’t have the breath to do any more.
The body was left in plain sight, and the figure moved on to the town, accompanied by about one hundred others that emerged from the forest surrounding the village.
***
It had been an uneven fight to begin with. Once the two attack helicopters and the tank arrived, it had quickly turned into a massacre. Mr. Groll stood in the center of the carnage, seemingly unaffected by the battle lust that had taken the men under his command. The battle lust was waning now, as Mr. Groll’s young assistant walked up.
“Sir, all of the men are dead. We’ve started loading up the children to be brought to the reeducation camps.”
Mr. Groll nodded. “The technology recovery project?” He asked, by which he meant the looting of the various labs in the town.
“Well underway sir. We’ve also identified the leading female scientists of each field and are shipping them off with the children.”
“Good. Are the actors here? No, never mind, I see that they are. In that case, you can go tell the men they have free reign with the rest of the women. Always good for men to blow off some steam after a big battle.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Would you like me to tell the men to save a woman for you, sir?”
“No, John. I don’t build up steam so easily.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
“Hello, this is Mark Dally with Lroonian National News, reporting live from the newest addition to the Rogue Nation of Lroon. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen of the world, last night, in an unanimous vote, the Freethinkers of Quoarn, a small village on the border of Lroon, chose to join Lroon.”
Behind him, a young woman in a short white dress waved a sign that read ‘Lroon and Quoarn forever!’
“The mood on the street is jubilant, to say the least,” continued the newscaster, as another woman threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.
“The vote came after several days of deliberation, during which Quoarn weighed the pros and cons of joining our great nation. Namely having all of their needs provided for, in return for well, I honestly can’t think of any cons. And I’m not just saying that because the news company was nationalized last month.” He gave a friendly grin, inviting the world to laugh along with his clever little joke at his own expense.
***
“The timing’s a little suspicious,” said Mr. Groll, reviewing the tape, “Have the second woman kiss him right before his announces the mood is jubilant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then take the rest of the day off John, you’ve done good.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Groll glanced about for a moment, and seemed to fade into the background. That was a talent of his. People who weren't specifically looking for him tended not to notice him. Unlike many people, for whom this resulted in merely never advancing in life, Mr. Groll had become one of his nation's chief assests. And he had another job lined up in the capital.
The only weaponry was a few hunting rifles kept to supplement the farm diet in lean months. There was no organized police force, no military, not even any government. A tiny, ideal community.
It was also sitting on the border of The Rogue Nation of Lroon. It was from there that the distinguished guest had come tonight.
“Well, Mr. Groll, we’re all very grateful for your offer, but the results are in, and you can see that the Freethinkers of Quoarn really aren’t interested in joining the Rogue Nation of Lroon,” said the spokesperson, coming up to him.
“Yes.” Mr. Groll cast an eye over the ballots. “Unanimous, was it?”
“Yes, yes, indeed it was Mr. Groll.”
“Well that certainly makes my job a tad easier, eh?”
“I’m not certain I follow you Mr. Groll.”
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t like to be held responsible for the deaths of anyone who had voted to join us, now would I?”
“I beg your pardon?” The spokesman was confused and a little frightened, which made him snap. A second later there the small sound, of a silenced gun firing, and the spokesman fell over backwards, with a look of absolute shock on his face. Mr. Groll calmly drew a second gun, this one a flare gun, and fired it into the air. A few moments later, a man came running up.
Mr. Groll took several quick step forwards as the man stared unbelievingly at the spokesman’s body. He placed his hand over the man’s mouth and shot him in the chest.
***
About the time that the body of Mr. Groll’s second victim hit the ground, a farmer drove up to his farm. He got out of the car, and was halfway to the door when a figure stepped out of the shadows, and threw an arm around his throat.
“Green flare,” he whispered in the farmer’s ear. “That means the vote was unanimous, eh?” The farmer let out a small whimper as the knife entered his back between his shoulder blades, but didn’t have the breath to do any more.
The body was left in plain sight, and the figure moved on to the town, accompanied by about one hundred others that emerged from the forest surrounding the village.
***
It had been an uneven fight to begin with. Once the two attack helicopters and the tank arrived, it had quickly turned into a massacre. Mr. Groll stood in the center of the carnage, seemingly unaffected by the battle lust that had taken the men under his command. The battle lust was waning now, as Mr. Groll’s young assistant walked up.
“Sir, all of the men are dead. We’ve started loading up the children to be brought to the reeducation camps.”
Mr. Groll nodded. “The technology recovery project?” He asked, by which he meant the looting of the various labs in the town.
“Well underway sir. We’ve also identified the leading female scientists of each field and are shipping them off with the children.”
“Good. Are the actors here? No, never mind, I see that they are. In that case, you can go tell the men they have free reign with the rest of the women. Always good for men to blow off some steam after a big battle.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Would you like me to tell the men to save a woman for you, sir?”
“No, John. I don’t build up steam so easily.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
“Hello, this is Mark Dally with Lroonian National News, reporting live from the newest addition to the Rogue Nation of Lroon. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen of the world, last night, in an unanimous vote, the Freethinkers of Quoarn, a small village on the border of Lroon, chose to join Lroon.”
Behind him, a young woman in a short white dress waved a sign that read ‘Lroon and Quoarn forever!’
“The mood on the street is jubilant, to say the least,” continued the newscaster, as another woman threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.
“The vote came after several days of deliberation, during which Quoarn weighed the pros and cons of joining our great nation. Namely having all of their needs provided for, in return for well, I honestly can’t think of any cons. And I’m not just saying that because the news company was nationalized last month.” He gave a friendly grin, inviting the world to laugh along with his clever little joke at his own expense.
***
“The timing’s a little suspicious,” said Mr. Groll, reviewing the tape, “Have the second woman kiss him right before his announces the mood is jubilant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then take the rest of the day off John, you’ve done good.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Groll glanced about for a moment, and seemed to fade into the background. That was a talent of his. People who weren't specifically looking for him tended not to notice him. Unlike many people, for whom this resulted in merely never advancing in life, Mr. Groll had become one of his nation's chief assests. And he had another job lined up in the capital.