It was a miracle they were making any time at all. The old fishing boat went slowly up the coastline. The tide would be in soon, and Tapio knew they would be able to get closer to shore, but he also remembered the large, far reaching docks in Hammakko.

However, even still, the boat seemed to be going slow, and even the fisherman looked worried.

Tapio's anxiety was through the roof. He nervously checked his gear, and he fiddled with his helm.

Behind the box he sat on, a soldier stood up, and sat next to him. Looking over, Tapio was shocked to see Oscar sitting there.

"Oscar!" exclaimed Tapio, who slapped the back of his head, "You fool! What are you doing here?"

"I am making myself available for messag-"

"You are disobeying orders!" said Tapio, "Did you even take aquatic landing training?"

"Uhm, not really," said Oscar, "You lied to me!"

"How? Did I tell you the boat was going to sprout legs?" Tapio looked around to see Larson, who had not paid them attention yet.

"You are in big trouble when the Hersir sees you, Private," said Tapio.

"You lied to me!"

"That justifies this?" said Tapio, "Are you insane? Are you a small child?"

"Look, I needed to come along," said Oscar, "I wasn't going to be able to keep up with the others. Besides, I have to know."

"Know what?" said Tapio.

"Oh, by the hammer..." Hersir Larson made her way to the back of the boat, "Private Pederson?"

Oscar stood up, and locked eyes with her.

"You better have a divine excuse for disobeying my direct order."

"I... uhh... Hersir, I-"

"Me, Hersir Larson," said Tapio, standing, "You sent two of our heavier weapons teams on the land crew. However, should we come up against mechs, it might be better to keep some close. Plus if Hammakko is lost and we do not go forward with the attack, I thought it better the messenger be on the boat going the other way instead of rushing ahead knowingly on foot."

"Damnit, Virtanen," said Larson, "I... that is some good thinking."

She lowered her voice, "Listen here, Tapio. I have had it up to here with your crap. You better hope you die in that town. We are going to have a serious talk when it's over."

She turned to Oscar, "You better know how to swim. If you aren't on that beach alongside us, you better drown."

With that, she returned to the wheel with the fisherman. Oscar flopped back onto the box, his face losing all color.

Tapio sighed again, "Well, at least one of us gets out of it."

"What have I done?" said Oscar, "Swim?"

"You need to think through your actions," said Tapio, "You won't be left splashing in the waves. I hope it was worth it."

The sun was setting. The shadows stretched and began to grow with the motion. The sky was turning different shades of blue and red. Tapio was unsure if that was an omen.

"Cows..." came the soft words of Oscar, next to him, "You expect me to believe Hersir Larson puts up with cows?"

Tapio closed his eyes. Sinking his head down.

"Come on, Tapio," said Oscar, "If I'm going to die anyway, why make me die with 'cows'?"

"You are not going to die."

"How do you know that, cowboy?" asked Oscar.

Tapio rubbed his eyes. It took him a moment to realize he was groaning. He stopped and looked out to the shore. His eyes swept the forest and the beach line, but his mind had already been thrown back.

"It was… It was an advance. It would come to be known as the Rovaniemisk offensive. We took a Rusviet trench, and our Hersir ordered us forward. We could see them retreating to a shelled-out old barn."

"I heard this," said Oscar, "So you go and take the barn-"

"It was shelled out," said Tapio, "There was no barn. There was a smoldering wreckage of a Gulay-Gorod. There was an ambush. We fought and killed. Gunfire deafened our soldiers. Deafened me. Gunsmoke clung to the air like fog."

Tapio blinked back his emotions, trying to focus on just the facts.

"I do not know how long it went on. We fought them from ahead. From our left. From our right. Mechs and men. Machines and meat. Oil and blood. First the machine guns stopped. Then the rifles ran dry of bullets. I fought and slaughtered with my rifle and Litenoks until my rifle fell apart. By this time, the area was stacks of bodies and pools of blood."

"Soon, the Hersir was dead. Our mechs were down. And I was surrounded by enemies armed only with axes. Death was sure. The gates of Valholl were opening. So I kept going. If I was going to die, I would avenge every fallen soldier I had served with."

"But you didn't die," said Oscar.

"No," answered Tapio, "Apparently. When the relief force arrived, they helped fight off the surviving Rusviet defenders. I had fought until the handles splintered. I began taking knives, axes, swords from the fallen. Shattered blades. Splintered handles. I was surrounded by bodies. I was the last of my unit."

"It was the now Chief Skarsgard who found me. Then Hersir Skarsgard, his forces truly pushed back the attacking forces, and rescued me from myself. He tells me it took three of his men to wrestle me into submission as I was unable to discern friend from foe. He said many of the other soldiers thought it looked like my comrades were killed by ax wounds and not knife or bullet wounds. There was talk of disciplinary measures."

"However, I healed up behind the lines, and Skarsgard saved me from them, but he learned he could use me as a weapon. Another war machine to wield against the Rusviet attackers. For the rest of the war, he had me leading charges, standing firm against counter attacks. He called me his Butcher of Rovaniemisk. He propped me up like a hero, but pushed me forward like a sacrifice. Towards the end of the war, we had pushed the line into the neutral zone, finally reclaimed Nordic Lands, and I requested one favor. To stop. To rest."

"I was denied," said Tapio, "But it was ok. I talked myself into it. Use the beast inside to survive. To win. To return home to my family. Become what so many did not to do what so many could not. Survive to make it home."

"And your family?"

Tapio opened his eyes, but he was not looking. His mind still swirled in his memories. Tears began to show on his eyes.

"When it was all over... and the doctors tried to help me with the 'Butcher', I went home. That is when I first heard of the plague. The one that swept Europa. It wasn't as prominent here, but it was here. And it had hit my village. I was relieved at first to hear very few had died."

Tapio closed his eyes again, "However, included in very few were my family. My wife. My little girl. The village does not remember when it happened. They were discovered together. Dead for possibly a few days."

"I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"Well, it wouldn't matter," said Tapio, "Now I have nothing."

"Why would you ever agree to do this if you've been through so much?" asked Oscar.

"Well, I stuck around for a year assisting my Chief and my Hersir. However, one night, the Butcher came calling. There was a fight in a tavern. A gun went off. I don't remember it, but survivors said I rushed in, tore people away. In the confusion, they attacked me, and I attacked back. Somehow I had a knife, which I did not carry one, so I do not know how I got it, and that was the end of it."

"You killed a whole tavern of people?"

"No! Thank god. The now Chief Skarsgard was called. By the time I came to, I was being pinned by four of his personal guards. I had killed three men, and mortally wounded another who would die later. I wounded three others, including a barmaid and a child. I recalled none of it."

Tapio did not miss Oscar's body language going tense. He even appeared to consider moving away, but thought better of it. Tapio shook his head.

"As Chief, Skarsgard made it so I did not face charges. Compensated the families of the victims. The word went out that it was a bar fight gone wrong. All that was asked was that I left the village, lived on the outskirts. Instead, I went south. I left the lands. I went into hiding."

"That's where I found you?"

"Alone. Away from it all," said Tapio, "Haunted by the silence."

"That's terrible," said Oscar, "I am so sorry. You've been through so much."

"It is a story shared by many across Europa," said Tapio, "The War stained many lives across many nations.

They were silent. As the boat continued on, Oscar turned his gaze to the waves. His face was set in a cold stare.

Tapio was thankful for his silence. He allowed himself to slump deeper into his misery, and silently prayed for the Ghosts to leave him be.

Dusk had fallen. Stars began to be shown in the sky. The pinks and blues were turning to purples and blacks on the horizon. The fisherman's boat had its engines cut.

Hammakko sat on the shoreline. It was dark, only a few fires burning to light odd streaks on the ground. As they drifted along, angry, harsh shouts could be heard.

Tapio knelt at the side of the boat, his rifle leveled at the docks. They were dark. No lanterns had been lit. On the land, however, a campfire burned bright, and around stood men in red uniforms and fur hats. Rusviet soldiers.

The buildings, at least the ones Tapio could see, appeared to be still standing. Every now and then, a shot carried over the docks and onto the waves. Smoke rose from somewhere else in the town.

"I do not see any mechs," Hersir Larson observed.

"Not much by way of defenses on the coastline," said Oran, "Did they forget who they were fighting?"

"No reason to think they wouldn't just retreat," said Tapio, "They have no mech support. They might be low in numbers. Perhaps they have the same mission as us. Rush ahead, hold a defendable location. Hold out while the main force moves up behind you."

"Prepare yourselves," said Larson, "The battle is close."

"Hold off," said Oran, "Shouldn't we wait a little more time, to be sure? The foot team might not have made it yet."

"We cannot wait much longer," said Tapio, "At any moment they might spot the boat."

A splash behind them made them turn. The fisherman had dropped the boat's anchor, and shrugged.

"Until you make up your mind," he mumbled.

"Everyone, secure yourself for a swim," said Larson, "We cannot afford to wait. They are without support. This will be the most even footing we will have until one side's backup shows up. It is now, or never."

The boat buzzed with energy as soldiers prepared for their plunge. Oran had a large Frankish light machine gun, and he covered the openings of the magazine and blocked the barrel with a wax and wool stopper.

Tapio wrapped his rifle in a waxed wool wrap, and plugged the barrel with a stopper. He knew he probably did not have to, as Nordic guns were designed to fire and get wet with snow or water. He, like others around him, just did not wish to take the chance.

Oscar nervously looked at the other soldiers. He fumbled with his launcher, looking it over and over in his hands. Tapio leaned forward, grabbing his arms with his and forcing him to sit.

"If you keep playing with that, you'll shoot a whole in the boat and kill us all."

"I... I don't think I'm ready," said Oscar, "I'm not even sure I can swim."

"Breathe, do not fear," said Tapio, "Just relax."

"How do I... waterproof this thing?" asked Oscar.

"Launchers are simpler than a rifle, you will be fine," said Tapio, "Just tilt the water out, point and fire."

"Tapio," said Oscar, "How do you prepare for this? Like, mentally. You even know what is about to happen. How do I awaken... my beast?"

Tapio blinked. He was taken aback at the question. Looking around, he knelt down and shook Oscar by the shoulders.

"You listen to me, Pederson," said Tapio, "Listen to me, your Aesir. You do not want that. Not everyone has it in them. Pray you do not find yours. Pray you can stay far away from the fighting."

"It's a little late for that," said Oscar, "What got you through it? Knowing what was happening?"

Tapio shook his head, "I just... kept going. I felt it. I turned the fear into rage. I fueled my bravery with my anger. Anger at the war. Anger at being away from home. Anger at my fellow soldiers. I combined that bravery with my whits. I lubricated the whits with my anxieties. My fears. Fear of death. Fear for the safety of my family. My fear of losing. Together, those led to... serenity. I used that to keep going. Single minded."

Tapio held his fingers up for each list item he said, "Breathe. Run forward. Make it to that cover. Kill that man. Get down from that machine gun fire. Reload my weapon. Stay Alive. Stay Alive. Stay Alive."

"But not everyone can," Oscar's voice sounded hoarse, almost a whisper.

He was terrified.

"Not everyone can," said Tapio, "Which is why I comforted that knowledge. I knew that in the end, I needed to fight my hardest. Keep moving forward. In the end, if I am brave, the gates of Valholl will be opened to me, and I shall spend eternity in its halls."

"P-Please," said Oscar, "What nonsense. Valhol? Glorious death? You don't really believe that do you? It's so ancient."

"And there is a reason it has survived," said Oran, speaking up from across the boat.

Tapio turned to him, but he now saw their conversation had spilled out to the group.

"But it's not real," said Oscar.

"It does not matter to a warrior," said Oran, "We make it real. Every man and woman. Every soldier and warrior. Every time we choose courage over fear. Every time we choose to stand up for our ideals instead of silently accepting what others tell us."

"That belief is stronger than the fears of a single soldier," said Tapio, "And when the call goes out, the answering cry of battle will give every soldier strength. Because they fight together. That feeling, the results that feeling produces, mean it is not easily forgotten."

"But what if you're wrong?" asked Oscar.

"Does it change your position?" said Tapio, "You'll still be standing shoulder to shoulder with fellow Nordic men and women, staring down the barrel of a machine gun."

Oscar didn't reply, looking from one to another. Oran tapped his own machine gun, and chuckled at the implication he was all set. Oscar did not seem to be satisfied with where the conversation went, but he settled down.

Tapio felt for him. He never looked more like a child than in his fear. His pale skin and in his eyes nervously darting around. Tapio looked to ensure the Hersir would not see, before he knelt down beside Oscar.

When he spoke, his voice lowered, "You will not have to worry about facing your demons this night, Private. When the time comes, just follow my lead."

"Hmm?" asked Oscar.

"Hang back, with me," said Tapio, "I will ensure everyone leaves the boat. When I do, you will stay onboard."

"But, I need to-"

"Follow orders," said Tapio, "In the coming battle, worrying about you will be the last thing on anyone's mind. At least, I will want it to be. You will return, and you will head to the oil field. Wait there for the main force."

"Wait, wait a minute," said Oscar.

"Hush," said Tapio, "If anyone asks, you will tell them your Aesir gave you orders to inform the relief force that we have engaged the enemy at Hammakko and we are in need of immediate reinforcements."

"But-"

"No, you will stay on this boat," said Tapio, "The punishments will fall solely on me, and I will be long dead."

"What?"

"Listen, Oscar!" hissed Tapio, keeping his voice low, "This is an order. Go home. Do what you can to become some general or chief's messenger. Get to a city. Stay away from the fighting. Travel. Leave the kingdom. See far off lands in your airship. Live. That is my gift to you."

"But I am a Nordic soldier," said Oscar.

"You are a messenger," said Tapio, "No, you are a boy. You will not be haunted by the Ghosts of the wars that came before you. You will follow this order. You will run back to the oil fields. You will survive. Do you hear me? You will survive this."

Tapio rose, his voice raising back to a normal level, "No you must prepare. We leave any minute. That is a direct order, Private Pederson."

Tapio left him in shock. Oscar looked around nervously. Tapio glared across the waves at the shore. His eyes blazing into Hammakko.

In mere moments, the attack would be on. There was no going back. The least Tapio could do was save one life. He was not going to be given a choice on the others.