Geheime Liebe

Kapitel Eins (Chapter One)

Geschrieben durch Katie Armstrong (Written by Katie Armstrong)

A/N: I've never, ever seen a DBZ WWII story, and I don't know why someone before me wouldn't get the idea to combine the two. I have already done it in some of my artwork on Deviant Art, utilizing both the Allies and the Axis in my pictures. But I think we all agree that Vegeta makes a better Nazi than he does RAF pilot, am I right? ...uh, right?

...Oh well, I'm just writing the sort of thing that I want to read. I just felt like writing down his SS career that I may or may not get to in my manga version of this story (starting when he was in the HJ). And yes, I know that Himmler would probably not be handing out Honor rings to someone who had only JUST entered his third year of service in the SS, and even if he would, he wouldn't be doing it outside a promotion ceremony, but if you have to get packing and it will be a while before you get promoted....oh well. I'll bend the rules a little. I've been known to do that in literary undertakings. And this IS a story, after all.

-=-=-

"Herr Himmler, I--Thank you, sir..." I stammered, unable to get my words together, perhaps for the first time in my life.

"You deserve it, Herr Von Weiss," Himmler replied, beaming proudly as he pushed the small, round, Sigrune adorned black box across the table, "You have most definitely earned it."

"I don't know what to say," I replied, opening the box. I knew exactly what I was going to find inside. And there it was. My Honor Ring. Pure silver, runes all around, except, of course, where the Totenkopf, the Death's Head, sat. My eyes roamed over the inside inscription:

S. lb. Von Weiss 14.10.39 H. Himmler

I quickly ripped off my left hand glove and put the ring on, admiring it as the light shined off the polished silver. I wasn't much for wearing jewelry, but I would most definitely make an exception for the Führer. A few official looking documents were pushed across the table as the Reichsführer-SS stood to leave.

"Regrettably, I must leave, Herr Standartenführer," he said quietly, cleaning his glasses quickly. I stood as well, involuntarily.

"I understand, sir. Things must be very busy in the offices, what with our attack on Poland."

"You're quite right," he chuckled in response, donning his cap, "There's also a lot of paperwork to go through whenever we award that ring. You should be very proud."

"I am, Herr Reichsführer..." I responded quietly, before snapping to attention and sharply saluting. "Heil Hitler!"

"Heil Hitler!" Himmler responded, with a more casual salute before putting on his woolen mittens and stepping outside into the early snow. I sat down again, flipping through the papers left on the table. My state of amazement was not unjustified. After all, I had only just entered my third year of service. I had been barely eligible for receiving the Totenkopfring, and I was being presented with it before I was even eligible for promotion to Oberführer. Closer inspection of the stack of papers revealed a transfer notice. I untied the string holding the thick envelope shut and found what I had not been expecting: Two transfer notices and a new cuff band. A Division 2 SS-Verfügungsdivision cuff band. SS-Verfügungsdivision. The best of the best.

And behind my transfer notice to SS-Verfügungsdivision, a transfer to a concentration camp. Dachau. It was definitely not what I had been expecting upon being designated SS-Verfügungsdivision Standartenführer Vegeta von Weiss.

But I'd take whatever I'd get. After all, I was the best of the best of the best.

-=-=-

I know, sort of a chapterette. I just wanted to get myself semi-committed to this. Review if you want, but that is not an invitation for open season flaming. But I love flames, they're good for burning things on, and very good for keeping warm.

Another note: SS-Verfügungsdivision is better known as the Das Reich division. I went by the name it was given in October 1939 for the historical accuracy. If I'm going to mess up other stuff, I might as well get my division names straight for the year I'm working with.

And for the record, I am VERY interested in the legacy of the Third Reich, and I may or may not be a Nazi. That's for me to know and you to ponder late at night while the tree outside creaks in a threatening manner. But it shouldn't matter anyway, I mean, as long as it's a good story, it wouldn't matter if I was some twelve-eyed, tentacled monster, right?