Nation of urk propaganda video. Circa 17zerean urk.
The glorious Zealots have pacified yet another brutal foe and brought freedom and liberty to the savages of Gliese B471. Here is the actual moment Zealot 3 put his demolarity sword through the eye of the brutal dictator of the Gliesiens; Swwrtain, not once but seventeen times. Ha ha, take that Swwrtain! The battle was long and hard, 3 whole hours of terror that will stain the minds of these brave men and no doubt torment their souls as only the horrors of hell can. In the end the entire resistance lies dead and one Zealot suffers the agonies of kidney cramp, oh the humanity. The newly liberated population are already on their way to their new colony deep within the catacombs of the Mars/ Jupiter asteroid suites centre, safe in the knowledge that father liberty is there to guide them to a prosperous new destiny to the shores of freedom. Go get em' , Gliesiens. Adventurous pioneers have already set up daring plans for designer golf courses, relaxation centres and mineralogy research centres. Soon we'll be looking to new frontiers of our own, with the blue sun of Gliese bathing our faces and her liberated sons and daughters at our sides, and its all thanks to the brave work of the mighty space heroes, the Zealots (military music plays to a line of saluting Zealots).
After the subjugation of the species of Gliese. Deep space harvest vessel Percival 13. Docking bay.
The first Zealot removes his helmet to reveal and stern, middle aged male face. Monacle screwed tight into the eye socket.
'OK boy, now you're a man. I'll have no more talk of Wendy houses or what the girls have been up to or any nonsense of bullies continually kicking you in the bottom. You're a man, you've been on safari, you've killed and cleared an area of prime farming territory. You're flying the flag of you're family business, sir! And how do you respond if a man dares kick your bottom?'
the second Zealot is wandering around in an agitated way. He removes his helmet to reveal a sharp chinned young person, red haired and grinning meanly. Cruel little eyes.
'Daddy, that was marvellous! Did you see me stab him through the eye? The little wretch was dancing like an eel with a broken light-bulb frying it's face.'
the older man's face contorts in anger, screwing the monocle a little tighter.
'You fucking well rip the leg off, sir, with which he has kicked you. You think the family acquired its current place in the universes by being fools for our peers? They are dogs, sir. They are to be beaten into submission. You are their lord, boy. Learn a lords attitude.'
'Can we clear another planet?'
A third man enters. Chewing on a piece of corn. He is wiping oil of his hands with a rag and looking the Zealot suits over.
'Hello there, Renolds. Thanks again for allowing us to participate in the renovation, these new cultivation suits of yours really are a sterling bit of kit, well worth the investment. The boy is enthusiastic and wishes to participate further.'
'Arr. S'no bother to me, moi lord. If the young master wishes to save oi a task then oi shall put moi feet up, gladly.' He continues chewing his corn, spits on the floor and begins to help the young Zealot out of his suit. 'Oi'v taken recordings of your work, master Sedgwick, if you'd loike to ave a copy.'
'Why have you been recording it, Reynolds?' Asks the monocled lord.
'it's 'ow oi get moi supply of scrumpy around, down in that coffer-dam. They'd take that off me otherwise, at Mars security. The Min'stry o' Culture wants recordings from all the clearances, lets me get moi scrumpy around in exchange.
The three men ponder silently for a moment.
'That's odd.' Says the child with the pointy chin and mean face, but suddenly another thought rips him away sending him bounding into the air, knocking the greasy man over. 'Did you see me stab it in the face? When can we go again dad.'
'Dammit child! Watch what you're doing. Excuse the boy, Reynolds. When can he join you again?'