Chương 1: Chapter 1 - Democracy Calls!
"If you truly believe the world to be better without my influence, then I will show you a world where prayer for me has been replaced with worship of ideology. A world with no faith in their creator, but instead in their masters. Locked in a series of wars and conflicts that will never end, you will learn what your desired 'liberty' leads to…"
"Libertas Vult. Liberty Wills It."
-=X=-=X=-=X=-=X=-=X=-
{ Tanya Degurechaff }
Super Earth, our home. Prosperity, Liberty, Democracy, and a heavy dose of fascism.
When Being X sent me to a world where nobody prayed to him anymore, I knew for a fact that it was going to be the worst example he could possibly find. Although I was prepared for the worst, being in an interplanetary fascist empire constantly pretending to be a democracy isn't the best experience, even for me.
In my first life, I had been a simple salaryman, albeit a highly successful one. I slowly worked my way up the corporate ladder so that I could soon live a nice comfortable life as an executive. One person's emotional outburst later and I found myself face-to-face with an oncoming train. My death was inevitable at that point, but then the self-proclaimed God 'Being X' came down and spoke to me.
It didn't take long before our mentalities clashed and our argument became rather heated. God was something only the desperate clung onto while in dire straits, and oftentimes only kept them down when they were not. The world was better off without him and his influences, at least that's what I said.
Because of it, he left me here; a world seemingly beyond his influence. He had been silent since the start of my second life here, so I'd have to imagine his desire to get more 'faith' was due to him needing it to have control over the world. At least, that's my running theory.
However, Being X works, it's clear that he didn't give me the best of situations. My father was supposedly a brave soldier who perished valiantly on the front lines. My mother was a traitor who supposedly betrayed both myself and her country by giving birth without filling out the proper forms.
Needless to say, I don't believe half of that. Having learned a good bit about this world and its laws, it's entirely possible that forms are needed to even have children. However, my father being a soldier is something I've taken with a considerable grain of liberty salt, considering how much they seem to want to push military service upon us orphans.
Nevertheless, I'm now Tanya Degurechaff, an orphan born within the city of Berliberty, a city that I quickly learned was what I once knew as Berlin. Although the distinct 'German' culture of what was once Germany no longer exists, the last names of families that have lived there for hundreds of years still seemed to have remained. Super Earth seemed to be quite effective at suppressing any ideas of regional nationalism, forcing out pride in only Super Earth's federation and in 'democracy' itself.
Truth is, contrary to all their spewing about liberty, freedom, and democracy, the country itself runs on a system of 'Managed Democracy' as they call it. Instead of voting for candidates, you vote for policies, and the system makes all your votes for you. In short, the computer has already decided who won and lies to you that this person fits all your desired preferences.
It's all rigged, but it's not like you can call them out on it; disloyalty of even the slightest degree is enough to see severe punishment, 'reeducation,' or death. For now, at least, I'll just have to play along with this system and play the role of the perfect patriot. After all, it's my only way upward.
In my old world, any man or woman had the ability to climb the social ladder with their skills and abilities alone. They could earn themselves a job and prove themselves capable enough to earn promotion after promotion until they reached a position that their skills made them deserving of. That was not how this world worked.
The social ladder in my old world had always been more of a social slope. It was something you could climb up that while steeper near the top was always climbable without much interruption. In this world, it is far more like a staircase with each step being the size of a building. In order to climb up each step, you needed to basically get permission to use a ladder provided by the state. And then, and only then, could you move up a single step. To climb from the bottom to the top wasn't something one person could likely accomplish, let alone with your own resources. No, it was a generational goal. By moving up a rank, so too would your children, giving them a better point to start from, who could then aspire to move up another rank.
Unfortunately for me, I started at the bottom; the lowest class citizen in the Federation. My mother was a traitor after all, and I had no family to rely on. For all intents and purposes, I legally shouldn't have even been born. Of course, Super Earth, for everything that it is, isn't that wasteful. A child given to the state at the ripe young age of a few months old without any parental influences to sway them away from the state was all too perfect for indoctrination.
At the age of seven I was given a choice; join the workforce or the military. While the workforce seems immediately more viable than the military, it comes with one major problem: I was the lowest-class citizen.
The jobs one was offered depended on their citizenship rank. As the lowest of the lows, I would likely have been shipped off of Earth entirely and sent off to some mining planet where I would spend my life working in the mines or factories for the slightest hope of raising my rank by at least one by the time I died of old age. The planet of Super Earth had no remaining mines or large-scale factories, at least not any dangerous or harsh ones. Super Earth itself is basically a luxury capital of their 'federation.' Few lower-ranked citizens lived there because there were so few low-ranking jobs or even low-ranking slums to shove them into, meaning everyone here was of the middle to higher ranks.
This led me to the option of the military. Among all of the Super Earth Armed Forces (SEAF), one group stood out as the Ministry of Defense's prized child: the Helldivers.
Helldivers were soldiers dropped from orbit into the enemy territory to wreak havoc and aid in the 'liberation' of the planet. While the infantry and other elements of the SEAF would mostly be the ones handling ground occupation, the Helldivers were like the galactic paratroopers dropping in to clear out enemy defenses and encampments before the infantry moved in. Ideally, by the time the infantry has to actually fight it has mostly been cleared out or weakened.
Tactically speaking, it wasn't an awful plan, considering how much firepower these individuals are given and how elite they're meant to be, so long as they aren't dropping on any front lines they shouldn't be too overwhelmed as long as they get out quickly. The problem, as I gradually noticed, was that a standard Helldiver was given fairly minimal and basic training. Clearly, these units weren't as elite as the advertisements showed; they were expendable.
But that's where the 'Patriot Orphan Act' came in to help with that. While having countless expendable and less experienced helldivers was fine and would even produce a few elites over time, if Helldivers were needed for a far more challenging operation that requires truly elite helldivers, the government would likely be short-handed. And so the government thought to take in orphans, who were free from any parental influence, and turn them into the perfect patriots. Give them several years of truly elite training and suddenly you have a special force of helldivers actually well-trained from the get-go who were far more loyal and indoctrinated to the state than the average helldiver.
Being in the military was the only consistent means of raising one's citizenship level, and being a helldiver was the fastest means of them all. By becoming labeled as a specially trained helldiver, I would immediately have far more respect from my superiors and be seen as a far more tactical and skilled asset, regardless of my origin. While the average Helldiver has little opportunity for real upward movement, I would actually have the possibility of joining Tactical High Command one day before dying from old age. My rank in it would be incredibly low at first, but even a low-ranking role is far from the front lines.
And that brings me to today. I'm not happy with life in the military, but frankly, it's my only way up. A comfortable life in the rear is possible, but I needed to start climbing now to have any hope of escaping the chaos that was the helldivers.
I am currently sixteen, nine years into my training with another two years before I am set to be deployed. For the most part, they only accepted helldivers that were at least 18 years of age, but legally speaking helldivers could be as young as sixteen. Of course, unless the country was in dire need of more recruits, they would rarely accept 16-year-olds, except in special cases. Of course, as a specially trained soldier who had proven themselves at the top of their class, perhaps I could make myself stand out more by being one of the few exceptions that would attract the state's attention.
In front of me was my Democracy Officer, a towering man with a large head of hair, a puffy beard, and a big mustache with numerous scars indicating that he had been involved in combat. While I wouldn't be surprised if all of those were faked for the sake of appearances, some of the Democracy Officers did seem to be former helldivers, soldiers, or field commanders, so it was very possible they were real. While I wouldn't mind becoming a glorified political commissar myself, with how low my base citizenship rating is, I couldn't qualify.
If I wanted to be put directly into action, I needed to go through him. No doubt I wasn't the only person who had or would make a similar request. So many people were blindly patriotic that they would be more than willing to shoot themselves in the head if it benefitted the state even slightly. But I need to prove myself as more than blindly patriotic. I need to be seen as a patriot for sure, but one who isn't a blind follower but rather someone who genuinely thinks it to be the most logical government that could exist. This way I could paint myself as an intelligent thinker and strategist, and one who holds undying loyalty to the state, and therefore one who could only ever benefit the state in the most useful of ways. Death on the front lines was one way, but democracy needed more than just deaths to support it.
The 'undying loyalty' was a completely fabricated lie, but it's not like I have a choice. My survival depends on my loyalty to the state.
"Your patriotic desire to serve Super-Earth has been noted, Degurechaff. However, you must understand that we get countless requests like this every year from trainees like yourself. Although you are already better trained than the average helldiver, there is still more you can learn. We intend to send you out as elites, not as some slightly better-trained helldiver. For what reason should I consider approving your early graduation?" The Democracy Officer asked as he folded his arms on his desk. It was clear he was a bit tired of similar requests, but I couldn't afford to fall behind. I couldn't be grouped with them. I need to be ahead by a mile so I can win the marathon.
"Sir, I understand that this request may be too much for me to ask, but I request that you take a look at my track record. Across almost every category I have graduated at or near the top of my class. I even got the top grade in AP Patriotism with my report on the tactics used to swiftly end the Last Great War. I am willing to undergo any challenge you wish to throw at me to prove myself capable of truly being the elite helldiver you have been training us to be."
The Democracy Officer stared down at me before sighing, "You are an excellent student, I will give you that much. We only get a handful of truly committed and skilled helldiver trainees like you every year. If not for that, I would've turned you down by now. However, in light of your good scores, I am willing to put you to the test. Do you know why we need elites fighting alongside the regular helldivers when we give most of them only limited training?"
I nodded, "If I recall correctly, helldivers are given minimal training because on-the-field training is far more effective than slowly building up skills at base. With plenty of simpler missions with incredibly low difficulty ratings, there are theoretically countless missions new Helldivers could do to grow their skills as they work up to the harder objectives. The elite helldivers are meant to go for harder missions as well as special objectives of the Democratic council from the get-go. We can't rely on the base helldivers to always produce perfect elites and veterans, so we're trained to be skilled elites that Super Earth wants."
The Democracy Officer seemed partially satisfied with my answer, making a slight smile, "You are as well studied as you said, Degurechaff, however, that is not the only aspect. You see, it would be rather simple for us to distinguish you elite helldivers from the regular ones with a completely different title, and although you will be clearly distinct from the others in the eyes of High Command, you would not be so much in the eyes of your peers. You elites are meant to be leaders among the helldivers, people meant to rally those minimally trained helldivers under their command and raise them to new heights. You are to teach them what they don't learn on the front lines, you are to coordinate and strategize. You elites are more than just the most skilled soldiers of the helldivers, you are meant to be their leaders."
"I understand, by having elite forces scattered within the ranks of fellow Helldivers, they can rally together other helldivers and turn them into a properly organized fighting squad. Helldivers work better together, but without prolonged training, that fact might not be ingrained enough into the mind of the average helldiver. But what does this have to do with testing me?" I asked, looking up at the officer who still towered over me.
The officer collapsed his hands together before sliding back in his chair, explaining, "Over the next two years, it is this leadership aspect that we start to focus more heavily on. Your skills have been honed, that much has been proven, but you need to prove to me that you have the skills to be a proper leader."
"And how would you like me to prove my skills to you?" I politely inquired. Strategy shouldn't be a problem, and from the look he's given me, I believe he thinks so as well. It remains to be seen what comes next, but if I can impress him with my leadership skills, I may be on the right track.
The Democracy Officer pulled out a drawer on his desk, pulling through various papers before pulling out a small handful of them and placing them on the desk. "These are some of your peers, due to their poorer performance they were kept in the lower classes while you were pushed up to the upper classes because of your skills. However, despite being in a lower class more accommodating for their capabilities, they have continued to perform poorly in almost all fields. To add salt to the wound, their personalities make them difficult to work with in team assignments. We had intended to send them back to their home worlds to be put to work, allowing them to enlist as helldivers through the normal method if they truly wished to later. However, if you believe you're ready to graduate already, then you should be able to take this band of misfits and turn them into an at least somewhat competent force of liberty."
So in short I have to take a bunch of incompetent morons and turn them into actual soldiers? Won't be easy, but it's completely doable. But I must know my limits. "What authority do I have over these men?"
"Eager, I see. I half expected you to turn down the offer, but you are a truly committed one, Degurechaff. Regardless, to answer your question, you will be listed as their superior, as such you're permitted to do what you deem necessary. Between you and me, Super Earth doesn't consider these individuals as particularly important, so any damage or casualties that might be sustained may end up escaping the official record. I believe that answers your question?" The Democracy Officer noted, a smug grin on his face.
In short: I was allowed to do anything I wanted, even killing them if they were too disobedient. I'd like to avoid that, but considering Super Earth's zero-tolerance policy for disobedience, I'd imagine they wouldn't complain if I did. I've been given a blank cheque on these men, the military has given up on them, but I will not, my future depends on it.
-=X=-=X=-=X=-=X=-=X=-
{ Democracy Officer Wragell }
It has been many years since I was first put in charge of District Four of Mars, but even throughout all that time, it was rare for me to get such an important visitor. District Four has quite a lot going for it, but in the end, it is similar to many other districts. It has its Helldiver training area, a camp for training elite helldivers, a repair bay for spacecraft, and a few other things a military base would need. All these facilities could be found in other districts, and although I'd like to say our district has done quite well for itself, to say it stands out would be a bold-faced lie.
Ever since Mars had its first colony built during the Last Great War, it has served effectively as a military base first and foremost. Most districts, with some exceptions, were tailored for this purpose, and every helldiver found their way here during the start of their journeys. While other ministries of Super Earth got tall buildings or maybe an entire city dedicated to themselves, the Ministry of Defense, and by proxy the SEAF, had a whole planet to themselves, and then some.
Today was a particularly special day, however. A vessel containing a Democracy Officer known throughout the SEAF was arriving in my sector and desired a meeting. Although he and I were effectively of equal rank, to say that his authority exceeds mine would be an understatement. Officer Romel is a former war hero considered to be on the path of standing besides General Brasch as one of Super Earth's finest.
What truly sets him apart however is the fact that he refuses promotions upward. Doing so would make him a commander sitting comfortably back here on Mars or on Super Earth itself, managing the entire war. However, if reports were to be believed, he doesn't want that. He desires to see the front lines with his own two eyes. Eventually, he requested to be put on a Super Destroyer as the Democracy Officer of a new helldiver, stating he wished to help raise the next generation of fighters alongside him.
According to what I have heard, he wished to help raise a Helldiver to be a true hero of Super Earth, to nurture them like one would a child into a true competent fighter. However, if the state of his Super Destroyer was to be believed, he hadn't had the best of luck.
The ship was badly damaged, no doubt the result of an Automaton bombardment. Automatons rarely got a chance to attack a Super Destroyer unless reinforcements of helldivers ran out. So long as there was a presence on the ground below, the Automatons wouldn't strike at the skies.
The automatons were an army of robots, no doubt connected to the cyborgs of the last Galactic War. Regardless of origin, they were the only faction capable of actually damaging a Super Destroyer. Bugs, for all of their ability to rapidly take over planets, lacked any sort of orbital offensive capabilities and were rendered moot by any proper bombardment.
The ship that lowered into the repair bay had basically seen its entire underside severely scraped. Most, if not all of its guns had been blown off, and it likely didn't have much offensive functions left in it. Frankly, it was lucky to still be flying, but the engines had seemingly avoided too much damage.
Thanks to the tech at the Martian engineers' disposal, the ship should be fixed in about a day, but it was unlikely that the powerful guns would be replaced, at least not soon. Those had to be ordered separately, and we didn't have any here.
Soon the ship fully landed on the ground, the engineers already getting to work and preparing the ship for repairs. Slowly, the exit hatch lowered as all staff on the ship made their way out. Most would probably hang around for the next day or so, but soon I spotted Romel as he headed in my direction, followed behind by the Ship Master of the vessel.
He stopped before me, lifting his fist and lower arm up in a salute, one which I was quick to return. "Officer Romel, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Officer Wragell, welcome to Mars."
Romel lowered his salute and nodded. "Thank you, officer. It's good to be back. It's been a long time since I've stepped foot on Mars' surface. I will only be intruding for a short while. My ship has taken heavy damage, enough so that the orbital repair yards likely wouldn't be able to handle some of the repairs."
"I understand, you mentioned you had something you wished to discuss with me?" I asked, stepping to the side as an offer to begin a walk.
Romel accepted the offer and began to walk as I quickly moved to walk at his side. As he did he muttered, "Oh right. Before that, allow me to introduce the Ship Master Erich Lehrgen. He's quite competent at his job and it is thanks to his help that the ship was able to survive in one piece."
I stopped to offer the Ship Master a salute, one that he quickly responded in kind to. "Thank you for the hospitality, Officer Wragell."
"Think nothing of it, we should have the ship up and running in no time," I responded, soon turning back around to continue the walk.
"Now then, as you may have heard this is not the first helldiver that I have lost, let alone recently. All the helldivers I have gotten are fresh recruits, all having gone through the same basic training as their average comrades. However, although they tend to find initial success, they often tend to overestimate themselves or end up stumbling into poor situations. For one reason or another, my helldivers have a tendency to… not plan perfectly ahead," Romel explained.
I listened intently, knowing full well that the man speaking to me probably had enough connections to wipe my sector off the face of Mars if he really wanted to. Although I was intimidated, I am still an officer, making a straight face is all part of the process. "Thus is the plight of many helldivers. Their first handful of missions are a trial by fire. Either they learn restraint and slowly improve their skills over time, or they dive head-first into the deep end and end up dying off early."
Romel seemed to agree. "Of course, the best training is on the field after all. But I must say, it is a bit tiring to see each new helldiver I am given end up stumbling and failing due to their own incompetence. I was hoping that my next provided helldiver could have a little more… experience."
It was pretty clear what he was asking for. He'd grown tired of seeing helldivers fumble around and fail. He wanted one of the trained elites. While it wouldn't be too hard to provide one to him, the problem was that the next class of them wouldn't become full helldivers for another few months. Even he wouldn't be able to keep his Super Destroyer in port for that long.
The other sectors with elite helldiver training courses weren't much better. In fact, the elites often graduate in batches every few months. His group was among those to be in the immediate next batch, meaning if he wanted a helldiver now, he was all out of luck. He could only stall his ship in the repair yard for a week or two at most before High Command started to get upset.
While I'm not eager to turn down the request of such an esteemed veteran, at the same time I don't have anyone to supply him with yet. Nevertheless, I explained, "Unfortunately, our program won't see the next group of graduates for a few more months. Although, now that I say it out loud, there is one candidate who had a particularly interesting request a short while ago."
Romel's face lifted with interest. "Oh? And who might that be?"
"Not long ago, one of the sixteen-year-old students came and requested permission to become a helldiver immediately. The standard protocol for these individuals is rejection, after all even the most skilled in combat still would lack the leadership skills taught later. However, she had proven herself top of her class and even had written several extensive reports, showcasing not only her patriotism but also her strategic mind. And so I gave her a challenge."
The Ship Master seemed confused, asking, "A challenge?"
I nodded. "Yes. There are a few incompetent members among the lower classes as there are every year, and I said that if she could whip them up to become somewhat competent students that I'd consider her offer. Regardless of her methods, the grades and scores of most of said students have seen a rapid increase since she was put in charge of them. I had planned to give her more time before coming to a final decision, but if you truly wish for a helldiver now, I may be able to give her to you."
"And you said this trainee was exactly how old?" Lehrgen asked.
"Sixteen. Legally speaking, she is old enough to become a Helldiver," I answered.
Lehrgen seemed a bit concerned at that statement, but Romel showed little care, instead asking, "Where is she?"
I stopped walking and turned to look at a nearby courtyard. Behind it was a multi-story building that wrapped around it. It was used for office space and classrooms, but it also had a number of other uses. "If I recall correctly, she took her group there today. She should be somewhere within that building."
"Hmm… I think I would like to meet this trainee you speak of. If she's the top of her class, then surely she's a competent fighter," Romel muttered.
"Indeed. I was worried about her capability of raising up her fellow helldivers, but she seems to be quite effective at doing so," I responded, now walking towards the building as Romel and Lehrgen followed.
However, after a moment I stopped, raising my hand to signal to Romel and Lehrgen to stop as well. I looked up towards the second floor. I could practically hear what was about to happen already. Suddenly a loud explosion came from the wall, debris from the building collapsing to the ground as a trainee fell onto the floor below, groaning in pain.
"What was that?!" Lehrgen shouted, meanwhile I simply smirked.
Smugly, I replied, "That, Ship Master, is the trainee you two wanted to see."
From the hole in the wall of the second floor dropped down another trainee, this one a shorter girl with blond hair tied in a ponytail.
Although her voice was filled with youth, it shouted like a true officer, "You look like an insect, squirming on the ground like that. Pathetic! Maybe I should exterminate you like the other Terminids! You should know better than to be so dismissive of what time I tell you to be here!"
The trainee on the ground groaned and sat up, angrily shouting, "What difference does it make?! It was only five minutes!"
Tanya used the butt of her rifle against the trainee's head, yelling, "Five minutes?! Do you know how much damage could have been done in five minutes?! Every second you waste on the battlefield could be another citizen killed, another Terminid nest made, another automaton factory created. You cannot afford to waste minutes!"
"You little bra-!" The soldier attempted to get up and punch her but was quickly met by her boot stomping him back into the ground, firmly planted on his chest as she raised her M2016 Constitution Rifle and pointed it at his face straight between the eyes.
"I don't care what you think of me, but the fact remains that I've been instated as your superior. Disrespecting those in command of you is a severe violation of Super Earth's laws, or have you forgotten? Perhaps I'll blast open that skull of yours and write the rules out in your blood for the others!"
Lehrgen attempted to yell for her to stop, however, Romel quickly placed his arm in front of him before he could, shaking his head. Taking a step forward he shouted towards the girl, "You there! Tell me your name."
Tanya glanced up from the trainee on the ground, quickly shifting the rifle to her left hand as she lifted her fist in salute with her right. "I am Tanya Degurechaff, sir! I have been placed in command of this group of incompetents to try and make something useful out of them."
The trainee on the ground attempted to use the opportunity to escape, but only found her stomping her boot back onto his chest, audibly harder than before as they heard a rib probably crack.
"And what were you planning on doing with that trainee, Miss Degurechaff?" Romel questioned.
"Although I am not a military officer, for the sake of these men, I have been given the authority of one. As such, any aggressive disobedience against a superior officer is, by Super Earth's law, punishable by immediate execution. I was simply cleaning this facility of a traitor, Sir," Tanya explained.
"That's outrageous, that law could hardly be considered applicable to this situation," Lehrgen muttered, turning to Romel. "You cannot let her continue with this."
Romel didn't respond to Lehrgen, instead turning towards me, "Did you give her such authority, Officer Wragell?"
I nodded. "Indeed. For all intents and purposes, to those men, she is to be treated as a superior officer."
Romel nodded. "Very well, you may continue Degurechaff."
Lehrgen looked on in shock as he watched Tanya raise her rifle once more and fire it at the soldier's head. Before he could mutter a word, Romel looked at him and said, "Miss Degurechaff is correct with her actions. He violated the orders of a superior officer. Such traitors cannot be allowed within Super Earth, much less within the Helldivers. You understand, yes Lehrgen?"
Lehrgen nodded, "I understand, Officer Romel."
"Good," Romel said, turning towards me. "She will do nicely. Prepare her as you wish, I would like her ready once the ship is fully repaired."
I gave Romel a quick salute. "As you desire, Officer Romel."
Romel returned the salute before turning and leaving, Lehrgen following with him after a few more moments of concern crossed his face as he looked at Tanya.
Tanya meanwhile was already working on cleaning up the traitor's body, preparing for it to be used in the bio-repurposer so that in death he may still be useful to Super Earth.
'What a fascinating individual you are, Degurechaff. With Romel as your Officer, I can only imagine the legends that could spread about you. The question remains though, are you a rising star destined for glory, or a falling meteor destined to crash?
Libertas Vult.
Liberty Wills It.'
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