((Okay, sorry if you felt ignored! Okay, we're in the tundra, so...))<br/><br/>Two Slayer, they always seemed to travel in small groups of two or more, had been scavenging in the tundra. Prince Nash had explored here, right? Or was it the country further South? No matter, to these youngsters, scars of initiation still fresh on their proud, bald scalps, the Slayer were omnipotent, and soon, omniprescent. No threat could touch them.<br/>One froze, shivering as he heard aggressive voices outside. In this deserted area he hadn't expected anything more than the casual, primitive Native. It sounded like a small army out there.<br/>He looked to his partner, who hefted a dangerous looking gun, the peak of Slayer technology, that operated solely by cranking a winch and fueling the weapon with steam.<br/>His own weapon, a wickedly sharp Lance, was much more suited to his tastes. He got to his feet, thick metal boots making a muffled clank as he stood. His companion moved towards the doors, and loaded the weapon.<br/>"Marksman, stay farther back, while I charge. Keep my back, yes?" Their Slayer tongue was a difficult one to learn, unless you'd been born listening to it. It possessed little vowels, and many, many sharp consonants.<br/>"Of course, Calvalry. We should've brought our mounts into the village with us. Nothing like scaring the Natives with our pets." While the Lanceman agreed, they would at the very least provide warmth, curse this freezing country, he wasn't yet used to it, the mounts were unneccessary.<br/>"You speak nonsense, we will not even need them." He lowered the Lance to the closed doors and shouted, his Native tongue almost inconprehensible, "In the name of the Great Slayer Empire, perish in combat!" The SLayer charged through the doors, to come face to face with a Mech, something rare even for Slayer. He ignored his surprise and slammed his weapon into the thing, hearing the fire of his comrade, covering him till the end.<br/>He grinned, perhaps those mounts were better off undiscovered.<span style="font-style: italic">Should</span>they perish the beasts would return to the Slayer Base, in Coiil. The event was even rarer than the appearance of advanced technology on this rock of a continent, but the Slayer were always prepared, always ready.<br/><br/><br/>------------------------------------<br/><br/>Nash blinked slowly, watching the two countries dispute. He smiled quietly to himself and examined the burning cigarette as he listened.<br/>This was exactly<span style="font-style: italic">why</span>they were all doomed. "I journeyed to all of your contries, well, most of them. I didn't get much farther than Kynder, though. I wasn't slinking about, I was gathering information."<br/>Someone hissed, "A Spy!"<br/>Nash chuckled, spy wasn't even his Genotype, how ironic, and waved his hand dismissively, "No, I was looking at culture, and, yes, weaknesses, but mainly to experience your way of life."<br/>What a journey that had been. He'd been so alienated, so alone, it had been hard to keep himself from revealing too much, yet extremely interesting. If only he'd been given more time.<br/>"Now now, the purpose of this meeting is so that you, as a<span style="font-style: italic">whole</span>decide your fates. Live in Peace, as slaves you will not be expected to fight any of our battles, you can keep your land, but we reap the profit. You will be annexed into our own culture, and, in time, you may even reach Slayer status."<br/>That was a lie. Slayer rites of passage were extensive, and required training from birth. Few, he suspected, would survive, but there<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>the possibility. Nevertheless, only pure breeds ever reached the Mother Land, no matter how much they proved their versatility.<br/>"Or you may choose death, which, depending on how you struggle, can be quick and clean or through endless waves of pain and loss."<br/>He much preferred the first of the two choices, killing and battle were the Slayer lifeblood but even<span style="font-style: italic">they</span>paused at slaughter. When there was a profit to be attained, an empire to be raised, slaves to use, while the Pure Slayer sharpened their skills, they would give the Natives a chance at life.<br/>Nash yawned again, "But if you do not give us a unanimous decision, we will march. This will be your introduction to<span style="font-style: italic">our</span>way of life, the life you will live in 47 hours; Unity or Death."<br/>His tone had remained casual throughout, but as he glanced back down at the King, disgust showed on his face, "<span style="font-style: italic">Induviduals</span>, while noble, end up like him." As quickly as disgust had entered his features, sorrow overtook them, "He's imperfected now...perhaps he could heal...It's a great shame to be crippled."<br/>The Prince got up and examined his handiwork, squatting next to the King and puffing while he mused.