Re: SDNW4 Story Thread 1
Posted: 2010-11-23 08:51am
DRYZDYN'S LIST
Gurgl Dryzdyn And The Halls Of Power
![Image](http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a271/PeZook/SDNW4/broken_city_mattesm03.jpg)
Mighty Bragule!
Oh how your skies grow black with soot!
How Byzonic are your homes and the glorious works
Of your children
As they toil under the watchful eye of the Comissariat
For the glory of Bragulanity
These prideful words of mighty Bragulan poetry adorned the facade of the central headquarters from which all activities of the People's Comissariat For Maintenance Of Byzonic Ideological Convictions Amongst The Most Loyal Population Of The Bragulan Star Empire were coordinated. The building was the size of a mountain, of course, and the words decorating it could be seen from space - if it wasn't for clouds of soot and smog covering the skies of mighty Bragule.
It wasn't often that a comissar was called into this place, this massive clump of Byzonic justice standing proud and erect amongst the cityscape of Bragule. Gurgl Dryzdyn, People's Comissar-Lieutenant Third Class, couldn't help but feel pride as the shuttle carrying him descended below the cloud cover.
The promotion came as a bit of a surprise for him. It would appear that his work was being carefully watched and monitored, and the tally of dissidents he found was calculated every day and compared against a giant database of all the other Comissars - to be displayed on a gigantic telescreen in a bunker somewhere, like a scoreboard, that kept score and could also be used to judge which areas of the Star Empire were in need of ideological correction.
Anyway, barely two Bragsdays ago, Dryzdyn received notification that he was to report to the Comissariat building at Bragbianka for an official promotion - and reassignment!
Part of him couldn't help but feel nervous, though. Could it be some sort of trick? Perhaps a plot by a rival to get him sideswayspromoted and out of the way? Or maybe his true agenda was discovered, and he'd be arrested! But no, if that was the case, he'd already be in chains. Unless the Comissariat wanted him in a false sense of security so that he'd give up the names of his co-conspirators in a moment of weakness! What if they knew that he knew? They could try to make him think they knew only to make him betray himself and then they'd really know!
As Dryzdyn attempted to doublethink his way out of this conundrum, the shuttle landed heavily in one of the cavernous hangars. As it vented the radioactive coolant directly into the atmosphere, the pilots ran final checks and finally the ship's sole passenger was allowed to leave.
In the hangar, a lone bear awaited him. He wore an indistinct freonic jacket, now covered with frost thanks to the radioactive coolant mist released by the shuttle.
"Do not cross the yellow line", the bear said, without as much as an introduction, "Remove your weapon"
Dryzdyn froze. That was never necessary during his prior visits! Did they know? They wanted him disarmed and vulnerable!
The mysterious official seemed to notice Dryzdyn's hesitation, "Remove your weapon, Comissar. You will be meeting the highest officers of our glorious organization, and while we do not doubt your ideological purity", it was obvious he really did, "A safe bear is a live bear."
With a grunt of dissatisfaction, the comissar removed his pistol belt and beating-stick and handed it over to an assistant that appeared out of nowhere. The nameless bear nodded to himself and muttered something Dryzdyn couldn't quite make out.
The comissar was then led across mile-long Bragsteel corridors, where he was subject to security searches and security search inspections and verifications of security search inspections, in addition to scans and several stops where he had to fill out sixty-page questionairres on a time limit while under cautious watch of huge, blocky CCTV cameras. Autoguns lined the corridor every five metres, which seemed set up specifically for processing new arrivals like him.
Finally, after six hours, he was allowed into a spacious room, occupied only by a chair and a giant telescreen. He sat down and waited, while the telescreen played soothing music and displayed green meadows. After another hour, the comissar began to doze off.
![Image](http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a271/PeZook/SDNW4/3193_girthrites_LEAD.jpg)
He was roused to full attention by a booming voice coming from hidden speakers.
"COMRADE COMISSAR! IN THE NAME OF THE PEOPLE'S COMISSARIAT FOR MAINTENANCE OF BYZONIC IDEOLOGICAL CONVICTIONS AMONGST THE MOST LOYAL POPULATION OF THE BRAGULAN STAR EMPIRE, STAND!"
The comissar scrambled to his feet, in his zeal kicking the chair over. The telescreen's calming meadows were replaced by a bombastic image of the Comissar-General.
"COMISSAR DRYZDYN! IN THE NAME OF THE PEOPLE'S COMISSARIAT FOR MAINTENANCE OF BYZONIC IDEOLOGICAL CONVICTIONS AMONGST THE MOST LOYAL POPULATION OF THE BRAGULAN STAR EMPIRE, YOU ARE HEREBY PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF COMISSAR-MAJOR, SECOND CLASS, AS REWARD FOR YOUR MOST VIGILANT DUTY TO THE BRAGULAN PEOPLE!", the telescreen general continued, his voice amplified to ear-rupturing levels by the hidden speakers, "YOUR SCORE TO DATE IS MOST REASSURING! I AM SURE YOU WILL SERVE THE PEOPLE OF SKZCYZEBRYZYSZYN WITH ALL THE DILLIGENCE AND SKILL YOU HAVE DISPLAYED SO FAR!"
Despite the mighty assault of voice and vision after the exhausting seven-hour security checkout, Gurgl Dryzdyn managed to feel pride. Carefully hidden behind layer upon layer of doublethink and Bragskirovka, he couldn't help but also feel glee. Skzcyzebryzyszyn was a planet in the Severnaya sector - there, his operation could really spread its wings.
"HAIL BYZON!", Dryzdyn shouted back at the telescreen - not because he wanted to, but because his eardrums have ruptured some time during the general's speech
"HAIL INDEED! DO NOT FAIL HIM, COMRADE COMISSAR!|
With that, the telescreen shut down.
Gurgl Dryzdyn And The Halls Of Power
![Image](http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a271/PeZook/SDNW4/broken_city_mattesm03.jpg)
Mighty Bragule!
Oh how your skies grow black with soot!
How Byzonic are your homes and the glorious works
Of your children
As they toil under the watchful eye of the Comissariat
For the glory of Bragulanity
These prideful words of mighty Bragulan poetry adorned the facade of the central headquarters from which all activities of the People's Comissariat For Maintenance Of Byzonic Ideological Convictions Amongst The Most Loyal Population Of The Bragulan Star Empire were coordinated. The building was the size of a mountain, of course, and the words decorating it could be seen from space - if it wasn't for clouds of soot and smog covering the skies of mighty Bragule.
It wasn't often that a comissar was called into this place, this massive clump of Byzonic justice standing proud and erect amongst the cityscape of Bragule. Gurgl Dryzdyn, People's Comissar-Lieutenant Third Class, couldn't help but feel pride as the shuttle carrying him descended below the cloud cover.
The promotion came as a bit of a surprise for him. It would appear that his work was being carefully watched and monitored, and the tally of dissidents he found was calculated every day and compared against a giant database of all the other Comissars - to be displayed on a gigantic telescreen in a bunker somewhere, like a scoreboard, that kept score and could also be used to judge which areas of the Star Empire were in need of ideological correction.
Anyway, barely two Bragsdays ago, Dryzdyn received notification that he was to report to the Comissariat building at Bragbianka for an official promotion - and reassignment!
Part of him couldn't help but feel nervous, though. Could it be some sort of trick? Perhaps a plot by a rival to get him sideswayspromoted and out of the way? Or maybe his true agenda was discovered, and he'd be arrested! But no, if that was the case, he'd already be in chains. Unless the Comissariat wanted him in a false sense of security so that he'd give up the names of his co-conspirators in a moment of weakness! What if they knew that he knew? They could try to make him think they knew only to make him betray himself and then they'd really know!
As Dryzdyn attempted to doublethink his way out of this conundrum, the shuttle landed heavily in one of the cavernous hangars. As it vented the radioactive coolant directly into the atmosphere, the pilots ran final checks and finally the ship's sole passenger was allowed to leave.
In the hangar, a lone bear awaited him. He wore an indistinct freonic jacket, now covered with frost thanks to the radioactive coolant mist released by the shuttle.
"Do not cross the yellow line", the bear said, without as much as an introduction, "Remove your weapon"
Dryzdyn froze. That was never necessary during his prior visits! Did they know? They wanted him disarmed and vulnerable!
The mysterious official seemed to notice Dryzdyn's hesitation, "Remove your weapon, Comissar. You will be meeting the highest officers of our glorious organization, and while we do not doubt your ideological purity", it was obvious he really did, "A safe bear is a live bear."
With a grunt of dissatisfaction, the comissar removed his pistol belt and beating-stick and handed it over to an assistant that appeared out of nowhere. The nameless bear nodded to himself and muttered something Dryzdyn couldn't quite make out.
The comissar was then led across mile-long Bragsteel corridors, where he was subject to security searches and security search inspections and verifications of security search inspections, in addition to scans and several stops where he had to fill out sixty-page questionairres on a time limit while under cautious watch of huge, blocky CCTV cameras. Autoguns lined the corridor every five metres, which seemed set up specifically for processing new arrivals like him.
Finally, after six hours, he was allowed into a spacious room, occupied only by a chair and a giant telescreen. He sat down and waited, while the telescreen played soothing music and displayed green meadows. After another hour, the comissar began to doze off.
![Image](http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a271/PeZook/SDNW4/3193_girthrites_LEAD.jpg)
He was roused to full attention by a booming voice coming from hidden speakers.
"COMRADE COMISSAR! IN THE NAME OF THE PEOPLE'S COMISSARIAT FOR MAINTENANCE OF BYZONIC IDEOLOGICAL CONVICTIONS AMONGST THE MOST LOYAL POPULATION OF THE BRAGULAN STAR EMPIRE, STAND!"
The comissar scrambled to his feet, in his zeal kicking the chair over. The telescreen's calming meadows were replaced by a bombastic image of the Comissar-General.
"COMISSAR DRYZDYN! IN THE NAME OF THE PEOPLE'S COMISSARIAT FOR MAINTENANCE OF BYZONIC IDEOLOGICAL CONVICTIONS AMONGST THE MOST LOYAL POPULATION OF THE BRAGULAN STAR EMPIRE, YOU ARE HEREBY PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF COMISSAR-MAJOR, SECOND CLASS, AS REWARD FOR YOUR MOST VIGILANT DUTY TO THE BRAGULAN PEOPLE!", the telescreen general continued, his voice amplified to ear-rupturing levels by the hidden speakers, "YOUR SCORE TO DATE IS MOST REASSURING! I AM SURE YOU WILL SERVE THE PEOPLE OF SKZCYZEBRYZYSZYN WITH ALL THE DILLIGENCE AND SKILL YOU HAVE DISPLAYED SO FAR!"
Despite the mighty assault of voice and vision after the exhausting seven-hour security checkout, Gurgl Dryzdyn managed to feel pride. Carefully hidden behind layer upon layer of doublethink and Bragskirovka, he couldn't help but also feel glee. Skzcyzebryzyszyn was a planet in the Severnaya sector - there, his operation could really spread its wings.
"HAIL BYZON!", Dryzdyn shouted back at the telescreen - not because he wanted to, but because his eardrums have ruptured some time during the general's speech
"HAIL INDEED! DO NOT FAIL HIM, COMRADE COMISSAR!|
With that, the telescreen shut down.