Raiffeisen Storage, Haltdorf, Festtag, 10. Vorgeheim
Rudko Kawchinski was still amazed how well the biggest investment his caravan had even made paid off. His Strigany caravan had made their money by entertaining the villagers in the Empire since several generations. Yet the coming of the Germans had given his people much better toys for doing so than juggling or fortune-telling, even when this was still useful. But it was hard to beat a Laptop, a powerful beamer, a generator and a big screen. His travelling cinema was working all-year and the farmers were lapping it up. Currently he had set up inside the Raiffeisen barn serving Haltdorf, with his customers seated on long benches, flour sacks and machinery. His repertoire included monthly newsreel, documentaries, science shows, instructive clips about many issues but most of all motion pictures. Kawchinski bought Blue-Rays whenever he was in Berlin and cashed in on them wherever his people went. This evening the major feature was an eternal favorite in the railroad colonies. The "Battle for Papenburg".
Christopher Walz looked at the Parachute deployment and was in shock: How could anybody be so stupid and deploy the Fallschirmjäger so close to the battle. The Parachutists would need time to prepare, but here they would not get it.
If nothing happened, and soon, then this would turn into a major disaster.
Heio von Stetten was no longer unhappy, livid or anything else, he was amazed. Amazed at the flying machine which passed close to his position, amazed at the men jumping out of it and dropping slowly by parachute and amazed at the German stupidity.
If the enemy soldiers were indeed landing where they looked like he could engage them in hand-to-hand combat and no other unit were likely to fire into this.
From this combat he could either take hostages and go or even consolidate into the other Germans if they were too close in order to help.
He gave the necessary orders to his officers and saw in their faces that this was what they needed, the despair which had begun to creep in their minds was gone - this was where he could turn the battle and avenge their hurts at the enemy.
The Dark Elves aligned their troops with the line of dropping Paratroopers, still trying to keep as low as possible.
Christopher Waltz was torn between two equally bad choices: He could stay in place and try to do battle for there, it would be comparatively free of losses to his Company but would do not much good as the battle would be more than half a Kilometer away.
An all-out assault against a numerically superior foe who could do real damage at closer ranges would ask for better trained soldiers who practiced assaults more regularly-it takes a lot of training to make men run directly into danger with any chance for few losses.
His men had left the Bundeswehr up to 20 years ago and while they had some training together it was not the kind which would breed the mindless following of orders which would make good cannon fodder aka true assault troops.
Still the Captain had a duty and called his Platoon leaders: " Meine Herren, we have no choice, we have to assault these assholes. Keep the autocannon back for fire support. As for the rest, we advance on my mark."
When he got the "readies" back he started the assault the only way he knew which might make these old soldiers follow-taking the lead. He resolved not to look back to check and started the sprint for the spot he had picked.
If there is something faster than light in the Warhammer Universe it has not yet been discovered by German scientists, but rumours and bad news were definitely a candidate.
The soldiers of the 31st Company were "old" and compared to 20-something soldiers short on breath. But they were also fathers and uncles and far too many had seen the remains of the Martensen children, or at least had heard of them.
The problem was not getting the assault started, the problem for the Leutnant would be stopping it.
Till Schweiger was running towards the "pointy ears" as fast as his legs would carry him. Any sense of tactics was gone in the burst of emotion which had engulfed him. In his case it was also a relief from his perceived failures in the first engagements.
He did not recognize when he and his men started singing, screaming the Wildgänse song - it did not matter anyway. Wildgänse rauschen durch die Nacht, mit schrillem Schrei nach Norden... (Wild Geese rush through the night, with shrill cry northward)
He could see the Dark Elves getting up from their concealment and the rearmost ones orienting themselves in his direction. So much the better, his most fond wish was to close with them and KILL. ...Habt Acht, die Welt ist voller Morden (Take care, the World is full of killing)
All of sudden there was a shock which was so unexpected that it stopped him in tracks-looking around for the magic user attacking him. He nearly started to laugh when he found he and a lot of other soldiers were stopped by an "electric fence" meant to contain cattle.
As this gave him and the part of his unit alignment he decided to do his battle from here, the distance was not too bad.
Not bothering too much with directing his unit he started to pick targets and to dispose of them as quickly as possible. The tearing sound to his right showed him that at least one machine gun team had joined in.
Still firing single shots he went through his first magazine quickly, then fumbled in a new one and looked for new targets. Wir sind wie ihr eine graues Heer und fahr´n in Deutschlands Namen... We are like you a grey-clothed host, and march in Germany´s (originally: the Kaisers) name...
The Corsair which all of a sudden filled his sight was just another target and went down, but then he felt a burn on his right arm. Looking there he saw a bloody furrow in his right Biceps, obviously left by a crossbow bolt.
Since the still could move the arm he resumed firing but wondered why the light all of a sudden seemed so bright.
He did not see the muskus running down his face or realized that he had to labor harder to breathe. ... singt uns im Herbst ein Amen (sing for us in fall an Amen)
Between the more accurate shooting of Frediksens unit and the wild bursts by the rest of the maniacs they managed to get the Dark Elves attention just fine.
Benno Führmann was so amazed at the unexpected sight of the "Opas" assaulting the Dark Elves that his landing became the classic "three point landing"-toes, Knees and Nose.
He still released his parachute and then scrambled to retrieve his G36 rifle from its bag so he could defend himself.
When he finally had it out he got it on his shoulder just in time to shoot a sword wielding fury. He was unhappily surprised when it took 2 3-round bursts to stop her - the thin witch did not look so tough.
Thank God, there were not to many Elves shoot and/or assaulting his position at the moment, they were too busy getting ripped a new one by the Landwehr for that.
More and more of his comrades readied themselves and stared to fire on the "pointy ears". Nobody tried to find his unit-defending themselves was much more important.
Besides the rifle fire some of the Fallschirmjäger fired their Grenade Pistols at any concentration of Elves. Fragments and Overpressure meant that there were few survivors.
When he heard the first machine gun joining the fight from his side he started to hope that he could survive the fight.
How he would live down being rescued by the "old Men" from the Landwehr was a totally different matter.
Rudko Kawchinski knew that he would have to replay this scene at least three times before he could continue with the rest of the film. The citizens of Haltdorf were the quintessential Railroad Colonists, self-reliant to a fault and accepting everything from Germany without much of a question. The latter was hardly surprising given that it was German-inspired railroads that gave them a chance to escape squalor and sharecropperdom by joining a German-inspired and German financed Raiffeisen Union. On average these had a lot more money to spend than other Imperial farmers, not in the least by using German-build farming machinery. The Strygani was making good money of the Colonists, much better than his small caravan would have made from similar villages that were farther from the railroads or older an led by some conservative noble. Kawchinski was not sure a noble would be so happy about a scene where the local militia had to bail out the professional soldiers.
20 Kilometers from Nanjang, Cathay, Angertag 25. Vorgeheim
The sun did shine, but it did not light his view nor did it warm his body. The fields to Li Hong Mei`s left and right displayed a riot of colors and yet they were just grey to him. His feet went down the road step by step and he did not want to arrive at his destination. His head held only one thought that chased its tail like a mad dog and that pushed out all others. "Failed-I have failed the exam where I was so sure to have it right. I am unworthy of my tutors, my parents and my ancestors. I am a failure" repeated itself again and again in his mind. When he had received the news he had torn his clothes and hair, had wailed and wept-and the world still turned. He had started the trip back to his home only when he was forced from the dormitory.
Now he shambled through the way back home where his shame would be open for all to see. He had just passed a small village consisting of a few houses along the road which had been strangely without life. The houses displayed even worse squalor than usual, which was easily explained by the carved poles that were on the front side of each house. The Village housed Myo, a people that usually lived far south of Nanjang, often working in manufactories and menial jobs elsewhere as their province was a wretchedly poor one. The majority people of Cathay were the Dan who provided the government, the army`s officers and the bureaucrats. They looked after the problems of Dan first and for anybody else`s problems distantly second. The village might very well have an epidemic of sorts and the he had passed it without stopping when a raspy voice pulled him out of his misery.
"Some alms for the ancestors sake, please give a bit noble Sire, this unworthy needs something to eat."
The voice came from a formless pile of rags and limbs that squatted at the roads side. Li Hong heard it just on the third repetition. For an eternal moment the thought that chased itself stopped and his could see his surroundings a bit. The rags revealed not much about its owner but for a stench, but that he was painfully thin was obvious. Realizing that he could provide a small service to anybody instead of being totally useless he fumbled a cooper coin from his pouch and was about to throw it into the beggars bowl when the beggars hand darted forward with snake-like speed and gripped his arm. The hand that took control of his was dry except for a few moist spots and far too hot. He could not break the iron grip from the frail-seeming limb which held him for a few seconds. Hot pain laced into his arm when dirty fingernails broke his skin and he started to scream when he saw the red pustules that covered the now exposed hand.
"Thank you kindly for your alms Li Hong Mei, my Lord will bless you for sure." And then the hand was gone and the rags dropped as if their occupant had just vanished. The stinking puddle that developed under the garment indicated otherwise. Li Hong ran as fast as his legs would carry him for a while till his burning lungs would slow him down and his slow trek towards home resumed in even deeper desperation. He slept in a glade and woke up light-headed and with fever.
Black Forest, roughly the same time
The Black Forest is a very beautiful National Park, an area of 60x100 kilometers of fir and pine woods, several mountains and rivers. For an densely-populated and industrialized country such as Germany it is a minor miracle that such a big forest would still remain and it had a lot to do with Germany`s veneration of all things green.
Joakim Vos had no eye for the beauty around him nor an ear for the birds song, as his eyes were burning with sweat and his ears were mostly full of his beating heart and his labored breath. The KSK, Germany`s special forces, had a cross-country run through this forest as part of its selection process, a 90-hour run. Oberst Grube thought it a fitting part of their training and team-building effort to get everybody through that run. Two of the mages were excepted from that, but everybody else had to participate. Joakim had not been looking forward to it at all and had been very skeptical about some of the other team members such as the tankies or the flyboys.
By now he was pretty sure that the pilots were safely far behind the Armored Infantry who were of course not wearing their suits, but he was equally sure that the Wolfpack had taken the lead. Now that was something that had provided motivation in the first hours of the grueling endurance session, but by now it was hardly noticeable. Little things like pride fall by the wayside when exhaustion and lack of sleep become overwhelming. The only thing that mattered now was to put one foot in front of the next one, to have a look if his team was still with him and making sure of keeping the right bearing.
Even such runs had an end, it just seemed like they never did. They had passed the last checkpoint an hour ago and if the instructors did not pull their legs the tankies and Ulrika were still ahead of them. He had tried to push his people faster but realized soon enough that any more would just mean that at least one of them would not reach the finish line. Fuck this-arriving as a group had to be enough. An hour later they heard a wolves howl that made their hairs stand on edge even in their exhausted state. This would be costly-not only in beer which was customary enough, but a part was payable literally in blood.
20 Kilometers from Nanjang, Sigmarstag 27. Vorgeheim
"A cancer cell is immortal" Li Hong had no idea what a cell was, even if cancer usually meant something to him. Currently the thought hovered in sickly yellow letter in his field of vision which also showed a red sun, deeply black clouds, purple fields and a girl with eyes made from splinters of colorful glass.
"Bacteria never age, they just divide"
Another thought that just made half-sense. He thought that he moved somehow, or was it the landscape that moved by him? He did not think that the swollen legs or the feet he could no longer feel would be able to move him, but maybe that was just an illusion like so much else.
"All men are equal before the plague"
That superimposed itself above a sky that moved past his face somehow.
And if what had happened before was strange things became even more surreal now. He saw a vast..something. For his point of view it was vast, bigger than the palace that had been the backdrop of his examination grounds. It was somehow transparent and he could see inner workings that were so complicated that he would never understand them. Fibrous ropes were going here and there and secured structures that looked like sacks or intestines or any other shape. "Things" tried to get inside the structure, some were let in, others rejected. What was led in was transported to a million places and somehow processed into different things. Deep inside the structure was something else, a semi-transparent barrier that hid a long folded, undulating coil of something.
His view was somehow focused on another, much smaller structure that moved against the bigger one. It fixed itself against the structures walls with something like spiders legs and pushed a tube through the structures walls. From this tube a fluid of a different color was injected into the bigger thing. It moved as if by its own violation to the center of the structure and some of it seemed to penetrate the walls around it. Soon after the center of the structure became darker and less translucent. It did not take long before the many "things" inside the structure moved in different ways and many of the sacks and intestines swelled up.
It took much longer before the structure bloated and then burst, releasing more of the smaller ones. Now his view panned back, showing a vast network of such structures which all in turn started to emit the smaller ones. The view went back, always larger until the picture somehow started to make sense. When the point of view finally was far enough back he saw his body on a stretcher, carried by two robed figures. Remarkably enough he still had enough strength to scream, even if not for long.
It was when he was totally exhausted and his mind like a blank slate that his education started for real.
Naggaroth, Brunntag, 28. Vorgeheim
The Girl was just how Thorsten Breitkop liked women slender, raven-haired, extremely grateful for having been taken out of the cruelty that was the lot of human slaves owned by Druchii and very very talented at what she did. The engineer could not see what she did exactly as his paunch was in the way, but he was sure he did exactly what he liked. Just that it had no effect at all and her efforts were getting frantic, which was an even bigger turnoff that the fear that he would not be capable of performing.
"It's ok dear, this won`t happen today"
"Did I do something wrong Ma..Thorsten?"
"No, you are great, I am just a little tired, that is all. Come here cutie and coddle with the old man."
Incredibly his lover was asleep after a few minutes while the German was still awake, kept that way by his thoughts. Of course his fat belly did not do anything good for his performance and his lack of sleep was real. But if he were honest with himself, that was not the real problem, the problem was that his dream had turned to ashes.
He wanted nothing more than to adapt the German machines and procedures he needed to the means in Naggaroth and see the production grow. To rip machines apart, figure out how they worked and reverse engineer them. Invent something for himself or tinker with an old invention to make it better. To be able to bed beautiful, grateful, supple and talented minxes was just the icing on the cake but not the cake itself.
And currently only the icing remained. He was here with only four other Germans for company and all of them were running themselves ragged to keep up the factories that they had already made. He had hoped that he could use a lot of the slaves that they had trained before the ill-fated attempt to rein the Black Company in. Only when he took stock of the workforce did he realize how many of the best trained workers and supervisors were missing. From what he had puzzled together somebody had come a day or so before Bloodcrest started his ill-fated attempt and took off with several other Germans and many slaves.
Now he had to train their replacements while keeping the factories running, had to reorganize the flow of material and half-finished goods, establish a new Quality Control and generally keep his little fiefdom running. If the day would have 48 hours he doubted that he could do everything necessary-far less the stuff that he liked to do. On top of that a lot of Druchii had lost major money with the Share Companies that the Black Company had set up. Malekith had made very sure that nobody threatened him or Neustadt physically but any deals he had to make with other Lords were strained. So his life just consisted of a series of things that he did lot like to do at the very least and that he often abhorred and he simply had no alternative. He was a wanted man in Germany, that was for sure and even thinking about going elsewhere was probably dangerous. The things Malekith had done to Silvar Bloodcrest`s wives and children had given him a totally new appreciation of what "bad" really meant plus a host of nightmares.
And to cap it all off even his pecker no longer worked on demand. This was enough to make a grown man cry.
Close to Nanjang, Markttag
The sounds that could be barely heard a meter from the bed made no sense at all and should not have come from a human throat. The rag-clothed figure besides the bed understood it all too well regardless. Pushing an arm below Li Hong`s back he lifted the former teachers head up high enough to allow him to drink a bit of tea. There was a lot of coughing at first but it became faster and better after the first successful swallows. His helper applied a watered rag to his eyes and wiped away the dried pus from Li`s eyelids so that he could finally see his surroundings. He found himself on a rice straw mat inside a decrepit hut. To his left somebody crouched besides his mat, holding a simple earthen bowl with bitter tea. A combination of missing hair, a skim completely covered with pustules and a scrawny body hid by a lot of robe would have normally made it impossible to determine the sex of his nurse. His new and improved sight showed him so much more and while some of it was still confusing he saw the woman below the diseased skin easily.
"Take it easy-don`t try to get up now, you are much too weak."
"Thank you for your kindness and do not worry too much dove, I am better than I should. Pry tell: Where am I"
"You are in what used to be the village of Nengbo. These days it is used by us to spend the rest of our days."
"Thank you. And how can I address the one who so kindly looks after me?"
"I am Lian"
"Ni hao Lian, I am Li Hong Mei and in your debt. Do you have some healers who look after you?"
"We are Myo, we look after ourselves as nobody else will do."
"Ah well, you helped me, a stranger. Blessings be upon you. Say dove, can you help me up please, I need to get rid of some of that tea."
"I do not think you are strong enough Yet, you should…"
"Please Lian, honor me"
Lian`s skin was very delicate from the pustules and broke easily when he applied a bit of pressure with his fingernails, blood from both intermingled with only one of them aware of it. He got to his feet on the second attempt and made his way on his helpers arm.
"You are already very strong Li. Maybe the illness is not so strong in you."
"The illness is strong in me Lian, you just have to go with it."
He spend the next two days mostly in the same hut, eating maggot-ridden rice and bitter tea while regaining strength. During this time he developed even more pustules which dried within hours, scabbed over and were now on the way to leave hundreds of small scars.
He was not too surprised when he was led into another hut where he settled kneeling in front of a heavyset man who had scars like himself and eyes with the color of boiled eggs.
"Ni Hao ma Li Hong Mei?"
„Wo hen hao xiangdao, xie xie"
„So you are well Li Hong, that is good to hear. I am Shixin and people here rely on my guidance for some reason. You have made a very speedy recovery, which is good. What is a real wonder to us is that Lian seems to make a similar recovery-which is nothing short of a miracle as she was ill for many months now."
"It seemed like a small gift to give."
"What would it take to make this gift available to all of us."
"I am-I was a teacher honored Shixin and I would be overjoyed to teach you and your people about the ways of the dealing with the plague."
University of Technology of Compigne, 1. August 2015
Yvette Marchant looked at the filter paper in front of her in amazement. She had been closing shop before the great holidays and that meant, among other things, that the "doctorant" had to put all her glassware back into storage clean.
One of her Erlenmeyer flasks had been used all semester to work out the composition and properties of the sweet crude oil that was produced in France`s part of the Wasteland. While it was very close to WIT oil it contained more of some long-chain hydrocarbons that were usually quite rare. She had been working on refineries dregs for quite some time and the flask in front of her had seen quite a lot of that. When the more normal methods of cleaning the glass had failed Yvette had used brute force. High-test hydrogen peroxide will clean out nearly anything provided that you boil it. This takes a bit of nerves, but hey that Erlenmeyer would be expensive.
The cooking had worked as advertised and converted the black dregs that clung to the glass into a honey-like substance that could be extracted easily by applying some Acetone as solvent. This in turn left some flakes swimming inside the solution and the curious doctorant had poured the liquid over a filter paper.
She was having a good look at her catch when the paper started to catch fire at its own violation. The combination of hydrogen peroxide and acetone is not very begin and if not cooled well will provide an exothermal reaction-actually Yvette was lucky not to have exploded the flask. She was about to remove the ashes when she spotted a small green particle inside the grey flakes. A green particle that glowed fiercely while it reduced itself in size.
§ 325b StGB
I. Whosoever causes unlawful changes to the weather by magical means shall be liable to imprisonment up to five years or a fine.
II. The attempt shall be punishable.
III. In serious cases the imprisonment shall be no less than one year. A serious case is usually given if:
1. A house, a hut an apartment or other rooms used for human habitation
2. A Church or another building used for religious purposes
3. Rooms which are used for temporal habitation at a time when humans are usually present
4. A bridge, ship, railroad or channel
were destroyed or rendered unusable for a longer period of time.
Close to Middenheim, Bäckertag 4. Nachgeheim
Edward the Tanner flicked his whip above Therese`s back. The old mare was exhausted by pulling the wagon over mostly rutted or nonexistent roads. Yet their destination was not so far away and she would be able to rest when arrived-or so he hoped. The last few hundred meters were not challenging so he again thought about the million changes in his life. His old Village was no more, burned to the ground by the Barons men so nothing useful would falls in Archaron`s hands. He and his family had to treck to far-off Middenheim to find shelter from the latest Chaos invasion that had been beaten so convincingly. Everybody was more than a little surprised when the German aid in reconstruction arrived. Yet this largesse was mostly spent along the railroad lines that spanned the Empire now for the simple reason the aid could be brought there more easily. Thus Edward had settled much closer to Middenheim before, actually close to the Great Forest.
When he faced the challenge to rebuild his life and trade he had listened to the German construction workers a lot. They had tall tales to tell and it was really hard to tell which ones were true and which not. One of the tales was of a small, unarmed and unafraid red-haired women going to the Beastmen and making them agree to stay within certain borders. The other tale had set Edward into a wild scheme that by rights should have killed him or at the very least expose him to ridicule. But lo and behold-it seemed to work after a fashion.
He did not have to use the whip any more till he arrived at the meadow. It was in front of the tree line that denoted the Great Forest in all of its primeval beauty. He watched the darkness between the trees with some dread and was sure to be watched and yet nothing happened. Bird sang, insects buzzed between the flowers but nothing threatening sprang from the forest. Finally he brought his cart to the place in front of the menhir.
He had been here a day before and had placed his stuff on the ground. Some of it was still there-the blankets had been opened and dropped, most of the sweets were still in their wrappers. But the cask of beer was gone, the hoes and the coil of rope had been taken. In their place a heap of lustrous fur had been placed on the ground for his taking.
It worked-it really worked, he could not really believe it yet. The beastmen were accepting barter trade.
50 Kilometers from Obsidian Gate, Cathay, Sigmarstag, 17. Nachgeheim
The fortress in front of Wei was the most impressive thing he had ever seen. The wall in front of him was about 15 meters high, studded with towers every few hundred meters and reached from horizon to horizon. Made from the local gray granite stones it looked like it could endure any assault. He could see a lot of it as his masters had chosen to remain far beyond the range of any bowshot from that wall. A couple of hundred meters behind Wei was the biggest army he had ever seen or heard of. Covering the arid ground for many miles around he could not see it from his present position, yet hear and smell it. Hear the murmur of many subdued voices commenting on the ceremony and the growls of thousands upon thousands of wolves that carried their master.
Unfortunately these were to be the last sensations in this world. Currently he knelt with bound arms between two Hobgoblins who held him in position for the third one, the one with the raised Tulwar. That one would behead him when the Herald would have finished his ritual insulting of the enemy. His death would send a message to his people on the wall-that the Hobgobla Khan would attack today. If he would have wanted to attack tomorrow he would have killed a Hobgoblin who had failed one of the many intrigues his horde was steeped in. But as the attack was to be today he was to die. If he would have been asked yesterday he would have preferred to die quickly and painlessly as the lot of a human slave to Hobgoblins is a wretched one. Yet now, when the warrior behind him raised the serrated blade he lusted for each additional last sight before they pushed his head down was a Dragon, surely a good omen-but of what? A clean cut? And even that Dragon looked wrong even if he could only compare it to the few drawings he had seen in the earlier, happier days of his life.
"Thunk" The sound of metal hitting flesh filled his head. He awaited his head to drop on the floor or the terrible pain of the blade but nothing but a strange flat "crack" from the direction of the wall followed by several more. The pressure on his back increased and it became wet while more cracks could be heard. Turning around he saw he was the only living being for several hundred meters, his Hobgoblin captors all dead. He got to his feet and ran towards his people as fast as he could. The crown of the wall in his front erupted with fire and thunder.
Areta Bane was impressed. The Hobgoblins had been at nearly 600 meters and all had been lethally hit in under 20 seconds. It looked like General Böhler was still a crack shot besides being her commanding officer. She watched the waddling run of the human that tried to make for the wall with amusement, the small group of riders that tried to catch him and the shockwave of emotion that ran through the huge army in front of her. They were like described in the briefings-a seemingly unending horde of wolf-riding Nomads, some infantry, very few heavy weapons. The Germans on the command staff had likened them to some fierce warriors of their world, called the Mongols. Well except for the small fact that they rode actual huge wolves, which did not make them any less dangerous. They were said to be masters of mobile warfare and very good with archery from horseback, in fact the army in front of Areta was probably more dangerous than the Dragon Princes of Asur. Their plan was painfully obvious as ladders were carried by some of the riders. Lot of arrows to keep the defenders heads down and then use the numbers to scale the wall. Against the small garrison this section of the wall usually had it would probably have worked, the mercenaries were a different proposition.
The Hobgoblins had been too shocked to do anything for about five seconds after the messenger`s shooting-then Horns had bleated, flags had been waved and the screaming had begun. A minute later the army had begun the advance-which to Areta was bloody impressive. It had taken that army less than a minute to get to the 700 meter mark which was when the mercenaries made themselves known for real.
"Company"
"Company ready"
"Infantry at 700 meters-fire"
All along "her" 150 meter of wall shooting erupted in crashing salvos and "braap" of her 4 machine guns. For the second time in battle she did not use her rifle, even if she wore it. By now her job was to observe, give target priorities, communicate with headquarters and prevent mistakes if possible. It sometimes made her wish she were a simple squad leader again, that was simple and if she fucked up less people were affected. She did not reflect on how this showed the change in her-before joining the Auxilia she would not have cared a rat`s ass for the wellbeing of her fellow Druchii, let alone some humans. Now she did and quite a lot. The balance was that she could rely on those to take care of her back which was a welcome change.
None of that was in the forefront of her mind, there were too many things to allow her mind to concentrate on anything but the situation in front of her. Make sure that the platoon leader changed range with the approaching horde. Have a look that all machine guns were working fine. Touch her pouch when she looked at Lurhel Blackheart`s crew if it was still there. Check if the ammo carts were there if anybody ran dry and if the medics were where they were supposed to be. There were more of them now, all of them humans. Areta hoped they were as good as the few that had been with the Auxilia before and would not balk at being so close to the front line. Actually one of them was approaching her.
"Permission to speak Company leader"
"Permission granted Specialist. What is it?"
"The chuff is still running and looks like he will end up at this part of the wall. My team wants to volunteer a party with a rope and get him up. Would be a shame if the General shoots him free and he dies here."
"Make it so Specialist Durant."
"Thank you kindly Ma'am."
Ok, another question answered. By now the Hobgoblins were much closer. The mercenaries exacted a bad toll for no return fire until now, but for all the losses the horde did not seem any smaller or slower. Persistent buggers that lot. By now the enemy was close enough that her Druchii eyes could make out far more detail and she did not like what she saw. Small green riders sat on grey-pelted wolves and rode hard over uneven terrain. And then came the moment she had been dreading. It looked like every other green bugger had a composite bow and let loose at the wall. There was no combined salvo, just an unending stream of lethal projectiles that impacted into the ground, clattered against the wall, flew past her head or pierced vulnerable flesh. The latter was very rare, the battlement was well-shaped and the riflemen a bit farther back than archers would be. Still it happened and Areta had to dispatch her medics twice. Seeing them shake their heads at one of her marksdruchii made her cringe, yet she could not spare too many thoughts there. Instead she went directly to the wall to have a look. The Hobgoblins were too damn close, an impression intensified by the "whizz" of an arrow that went by her head.
Things were about what she expected-the enemy was about to hop of their rides and the ladders were going up and down with the regularity of the surf-they were taken up by warriors who wanted to make a name and shot down by machine guns. Yet like the surf, the ladders got closer with each up and down. Once they were up things would get ugly.
Stepping back from the crenellations she pulled her pipe up and blew the 2-1 sound that made her Company take notice even when the shooting drowned out nearly everything. Twirling her hand above her head and closing it off with a throwing motion she unleashed hell. A lot of the rifleelfs drew back from the wall and pulled grenades from their belts. They waited on her repeated signal and then drew a cord rapidly from the wooden handle. All over her portion of the wall dozens of grenades flew over the edge and dropped into the milling masses below. The high-pitched war cries changed tone enough to be audible even above the explosions and the shooting. It was at that moment that she saw one of her medics pull a man desperately clinging to him over the top off the wall and drop into cover.
Ups-she had totally forgotten about them, not that it would have changed much. Still-the medic has balls, seriously big ones.
She saw the first retreating enemies from where she stood, stepped forward and more of the same became visible. Signal again-stop on the precious grenades, start shooting retreating backs. And stop cheering you idiots, the less you cheer the more you can kill.
Kagoshima Railway Station, Nanseitochi, 4. Vorgeheim
Torahito, 142nd Tenno of Nippon, was deep in thought when he boarded the train which would bring him and his entourage to Berlin. The Nonara province, which he visited the fist time since it was ripped away from Nippon over three years earlier, had changed profoundly. It was Nippon and it was - not.
The people were Nipponese and it was his gods-ordained duty to rule over them, but this was practically impossible now. Not with the means Nippon had, not with a distance of 12,000 kilometers between home and here. In a way, the local population had reacted to this fact. A majority did not call their lands Nonara anymore, but Nanseitochi now, which meant Southwestland. A term which clearly showed that the center it refered to was the land of the newcomers. This strange relative to the Empire, which first popped up in Nippon a bit more than two years ago, bringing with them a group of Nonara citizens.
Their story was fantastic: Being ripped away from a different planet, deposited here by forces unknown. A planet, a world, which had a Nipponese analogue and according to the Germans and their books, an old friend of them. It took it´s time, but relations between Berlin and Sumeto began to grow, in special after seeing that Germany helped their lost brothers and sisters.
There had been exchange of knowledge and trade, with Nippon beginning to advance from it´s starting point, but the visit to Nanseitoshi had truly opened the eyes of the Tenno.
The "lost" province had a steadily growing net of railways, some factories, other building materials, tourism and a busy trade! And this was a land which needed help to survive against many enemies, because most of it´s connections with home had been cut forever. If such a development was possible for a struggling remnant, what was possible for Nippon?
The Germans were willing to integrate Nanseitoshi out of a mixture of compassion and self-interest. While Torahito balked at this out of many reasons, among them political considerations, cultural ones, the Tenno knew in his heart of hearts that this would be the best for his subjects in Nonara. And there were possibilities! Berlin knew that Nonara - Nanseitoshi - would not, could not be given over for free and Torahito´s visits to Germany, the Empire and Nonara had given him ideas. Nippon would be surprised what it´s Tenno brought back. Not gold or gems for a province, but advisors and trade deals. Torahito had read the chapters in the "history" books the Germans had given him over the years quite well. Especially the chapters dealing with "Japan´s" modernisation. It would not cost the Germans all that much, befitting a friend helping Nippon and it´s people, while safeguarding the political impressions made.
