012. Lets see if the Jerrys like this s***

Aaaaand now, let's run with the latest, the greatest hit to smash into the Lyran Commonwealth since Ronnie and the Skidmarks! Everytime. We. Touch. By Cascada! Remixed by Hender! I want to hear your cheers spring through the airwaves and into my audiobooth ladies and gentlemen. We've got an instant classic on our hands!"

~~ I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me ~~

The song rang through the sleepy supermarket. Shoppers bopping their heads lightly to the sounds that were coming through the radio.

~~ I still feel your touch in my dreams (in my dreams) ~~

The distinctive Lyran harps plucked gently in the background. A symbol of the Lyran Commonwealth, the use of a harp was a way of indicating that this was Lyran, that this was theirs. Whilst the Steiner fist has become the official symbol of the Lyran Commonwealth, none forgot that the original symbol of the Commonwealth was that of the harp.

~~ Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why ~~

At least that was what they were taught in history... and didn't the Estates General still use the Harp as their symbol? That seemed like the kind of things the fuddy duddies would do.

In any case, the harp only added to the song, melancholic as it started out, beating with joy as it progressed further.

~~ Without you, it's hard to survive ~~

The beats reverberated through their bones and the shoppers felt 'I should look up this song when I get home'.

~~ 'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling ~~

While many wouldn't remember... the first time. The second, third, fourth, fifth times ensured that all knew; Everytime We Touch, Cascada, and Henders.

Following this was Bring Me To Life, Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Boom Boom Boom Boom, Barbie Girl and more.

A wave of what the experts were calling 'Pre-Space' music swept the Lyran Commonwealth like a tide over the coral beds.

Inexorable and unescapable. You either left or you let it sweep over your prone body.

Unless you were literally living inside an underground shelter without any kind of electromagnetic signals reaching you, you would be able to hear the Pre-Space genre blasting through the radio.

Appearing on television screens.

On holovids, sensory cubes, and more.

Naturally, there followed the inevitable splintering of opinion. A mere two weeks after the first appearance through the Commonwealth, the music aficionados had already begun to categorise and separate out each genre as they defined it.

Pre-Space Lax as it was called consisted of songs by an unknown composter, Nujabes and those like it. Music to beat and relax to.

Pre-Space Core, for it was the core of all clubbing scenes, remained the most popular, following the trend of Cascada and Madonna and reaching out to others like them.

Pre-Space Melody with Matchstick 20, Green Day and Nickleback for all the moody teenagers out there.

Pre-Space Rebel featuring Justin Bieber, the Black Eyed Peas, and Katy Perry railing at the world around them.

And of course, Pre-Space Battle Hymns. Capitalised, of course. Sabaton and industrial rock, instruments substituted with harps and industrial equipment for a truly jarring contrast. Covering a wide range of topics and styles, every Regiment found a Battle Hymn that fit their modus operandi, theme, names, or even their general atmosphere.

For even those on the frontline couldn't help but get swept up in Pre-Space fever.

A Pre-Space music renaissance had slammed into an unaware Inner Sphere with the force of a brick to the back of the head.

Stunned and dazed, the Inner Sphere could only look up and see the words 'Eggers Media' imprinted on the brick. Before a second and a third brick slammed into their skulls.

Eggers Media, the trailblazers of true music.

If you wanted to be on the cutting edge, you had to be on Blackjack III it was whispered, said, and finally shouted from message boards across the Commonwealth. For Blackjack III was where Eggers Media was headquartered out of a cottage, itself two hours along a dirt track outside the capital city.

A true artist's paradise, in other words. Not succumbing to mortal temptations, staying in their cottage and sharing their musical genius with the world.

Nobody knew who started the rumours, but soon there was a veritable tide of youths, fresh from their conscripted service, heading to the planet they felt understood them best.

As youths throughout time and space felt, here was a home for me, misunderstood and unique as I am. I must leave, to find others like me.

Throughout it all, LIC was shocked at the sheer, unrelenting success of Operation Svaðilfari. What had been a small operation utilising the resources of the Propaganda Department to push some cultural programming. Instead, ballooned into a cultural revolution. Sure, they had arranged for it to be played on every planet in the Lyran Commonwealth for a week, but this was not the response they had been expecting. That any of them had been expecting.

Teenagers wearing belts on their arms and legs, faces coloured black with mascara.

'Adults' screaming 'Thunder!' in response to ACDC.

The rails that this had been train set on instead turned into skids as the ground shifted beneath their feet. It was all downhill now. What had been level and stationary was now picking up speed... and there were no brakes on this train.

Three weeks since it had started, three weeks for the usually lethargic Commonwealth to sit up and take notice. Here was something new, something glorious.

'I will not be left out' was the thought of the average citizen.

What had been a test of using early Terran media to implant Lyran ideals (through instrumentation and subtle inflection changes on certain words), instead spread like wildfire. Companies that weren't part of the initial push, rushing their representatives to Terra to open archives untouched for centuries.

To chase down copyright holders and secure for themselves a piece of this pie. One's media influenced how others perceived them, completely and utterly valuable when one sold products or services.

All to find the perfect song, the perfect movie, the artist that they could model for promotions going forward.

The venerable Nashsan Diversified had already spun off an entertainment company, Nashsan Media to ride this trend.

While having little material impact upon the Inner Sphere, one might argue the impact it had on the minds of those who were swept up was much more significant. Hearts and Minds it had been called for centuries now, one could never win a war until they had won the hearts of the population.

Already the LIC was diversifying Operation Svaðilfari to make use of its runaway success. Media companies associated with the Propaganda Department were being pushed to develop films and series that would use the 'Lyran' instrumentation to build a shared mental universe. Associating, even subconsciously, the music the masses enjoyed with the Lyran values that were portrayed in the entertainment they were consuming.

Of course, all the characters couldn't be 'proper', but when one did appear... well, their theme songs told the audience just who stood on the side of profit. It certainly wasn't the one that had the chiming of steel on associated with the Draconis Combine, that was for sure.

+_+

Sitting in her office (she had one now!) Chisao Nagao smiled with immense satisfaction.

It had been three weeks and she had already fulfilled her promise. The entire Lyran Commonwealth had heard at least one of the Pre-Space songs that filled the airwaves. Searching for the earliest songs would identify Eggers Media as holding the copyrights, Eggers Media as the remixers, Eggers Media as the distributors (with help of an unnamed, very powerful government agency of course).

Chisao made a few calls, she had moves to make.

Certain pressure points to push.

How did one destroy their enemies she asked of herself, a familiar refrain.

Did you annihilate them with armies?

Did you invade their strongholds and shatter their homes?

No.

One destroyed their enemies when their culture had been erased, when everything at their core had been turned to dust, swept away with the passing of time.

That could never happen through force, for there was always resistance.

But.

What if one left their culture behind willingly?

Indoctrinated by an invading culture until their thoughts became one and their ideals merged?

Would they still be the same people even if they lived in the same places?

Thinking themselves safe without a military invasion, uncaring that their minds had already been turned against their masters.

If nobody outside of history books remembered the Combine as it had been 100 years ago... would it still be the Combine?

Devoured by Lyran culture until the only reaction to the word Bushido was derisive laughter.

No, the answer was no. The Combine would be dead, the creature that had assumed its face would be a Lyran creature just as it wasn't a Combine descendent.

Her position as head of Eggers Media was just the tool needed to push the train of total victory along.

She would remember to make money as well, of course, one couldn't wage a cultural war to the knife without funds.

Ultimate victory wouldn't happen in her lifetime, but with every knife she drove into the flesh, the Combine grew smaller.

Eventually, it would cease to exist.

Lyran in all but name.

Agent Lopt of the LIC grinned with savagery in her features.

It was all coming together.

For the Commonwealth.