Northern Nigeria, 7. July

The stink gave it away long before Christine saw the disaster. The sickly-sweat smell of decaying flesh mixed up with the smell of a forgotten barbeque of pork. Granted, the site was upwind, but still. When she rounded the corner she saw the remains of a massacre.
Several white trucks and cars were strewn on the road or in the ditch besides it. Numerous holes in the sides of the trucks, burn marks and large missing parts indicated that Boko Haram had made their displeasure known. She had heard several times during her stay in the village that Ebola was a weapon wielded by the evil government and the Great Satan and their emissaries not to be trusted, even when they promised healing.
It looked like they had acted on this belief, even when she could not see that any of the trucks had been armed. She searched through the trucks for anything of use, but they had been ransacked well. Christine took a few bandages and a disinfectant spay from a not-so badly burned truck, some water from another.
She found the occupants of the trucks easily, their white clothing made them stand out well against the trees from which they hung face-down. She was happy to see no women with them as she knew what would have happened to them.

Christine pushed her bicycle down the road for some more kilometers before she encountered the next village. Placing her bike and her supplies below a bush she crawled through the high grass to have a look. Nothing moved by on its own, no voices, no other noises made by humans-nothing. Nothing but the almighty stink of death.
Getting her bike back she moved inside the village and started to check through the houses. After the second one she went back to her bike, pulled the precious bottle of rotgut she had found in the "commander`s" hut and drenched her bandana in it before tying it around her mouth and nose. Thus fortified she went from dwelling to dwelling and searched for anything that would aid her trip.
The houses of those who had succumbed to the epidemic first were easy to identify, they were those empty of their former inhabitants. Unfortunately they were also those stripped of everything. It were the other houses that had potential, the ones that were so hard to enter. Women that still clutched their children in death, children that were draped over their parents that had gone before they did and men who`s faces still mirrored the pain of not being able to care for their loved ones.
All of them were dead, covered by flies, eaten by maggots and mutilated by scavengers.

Her mind went to that place it had been so often when her "husband" had his way with her. Her body was still there and moved under her own command, yet her mind watched what she was doing like watching a movie. She was not really there when she turned that body off the precious tin cans full of something edible, even when something squirmed along her skin while she did that. She did not grieve about a young woman that might have been her sister, but tears rolled down her face and drenched her shirt.

The next hut was like them all before, filled with the dead. She was about to turn a man on his side to reach for the next bottles when that body moved by its own. A machete came up and nearly cut her arm off, scraping her hand instead. Her foot shot forward all by itself, connecting with something that gave with the sound of a breaking twig and then she ran.
She ran out of the hut, past the communal space and crashed to the ground when she missed a small hole in the ground. When she pushed herself up she saw the man standing in the doorway, trying to aim a rifle at her while wildly swaying. She was frozen to the spot, neither able to run nor take her own rifle off her back and could just watch in horror as the survivor tried to shoot her. The man opened his mouth as if to say something, yet instead of sound a lot of blood came and he fell like he had no bones left in his body.
Christine need half an hour to overcome the shakes and even more time to retrieve her bike and push on. She would have to find some shelter soon, but it would certainly not be here.

Bwari, Nigeria, same time

Dr. Vertefeuille was tired, so tired. Not only as he had worked through the last weeks without any time off. Not only because he was the wrong side of 50 and his job was hard. He was so tired because he had to watch a colleague and friend die.
Dr. Musa had been younger than him, vibrant, healthy and full of life. Black as coal and a head taller than him he had easily carried the suitcases that held their tools of trade when he would have been left wheezing on some stairs.
Now the black skin was grey, the full cheeks hollow, the breathing assisted by machines and clammy sweat covered the skin.
He had done his upmost for his friend and marshaled all of the hospitals resources. Medications to lower the fever, medications that should impede the virus reproduction, artificial antibodies, blood transfusions and cold poultices-nothing had worked.
Instead he had probably extended his friends suffering and now could just watch him die. He was very tired indeed.

"Dr. Vertefeuille, please come with me."
He was startled by the nurse that had seemingly appeared inside the room as if by magic.
"Yes"
When both were outside the room he was handled a cordless phone.
"This is the lab in Abuja, they want to speak with you."
"Thanks Nurse..Sarah."
"You are welcome."
Getting himself into an empty office he plonked on the chair of another doctor that was not there.
"Vertefeuille here, what can I do for you?"
"Dr. Fergusson here. I just wanted to tell you that you were right-the plasmodium falciparum contains Ebola viri-how on earth did you guess that."
"Through a good friend Dr. Fergusson, through a good friend."
"Well, however you got there, you gave us a real leg up. The hard part will be to decide what to do now."
"I do believe that is up to people on a different level than us. Till they do, use a good mosquito repellant, my friend showed me the value of that too."
"That I will do, give your friend my best regards, he has probably helped to save a lot of lives."
"I will try my best Dr. Fergusson"

Rungholt, Bezahltag, 21. Nachgeheim

Dr. Stefan Strich was in the same conference room as before, in front of the same keyboard, just his company had changed. Communicating with Nathan made him nervous already even when this was wearing off by now, but his current company was a different thing again-and from what he had taken "being mounted" had nothing to do with Linux this time.
"You worry too much Dr. Ssstrich, nothing bad will happen to you."
"Thanks Ambassador Tehenhoto-I am just not used to this."
"Few are, thiss is quite an honor you know."
This was when his hands started to move by their own and his eyes became glued to the monitor in front of him. His nose reported the smell of the jungle and his mind was under pressure of one much greater than his own.

"Honored oracle accept my plea for wisdom."
"Good morning. I take it you are Lord Mazdamundi?"
"Yes honored Oracle, I am he, by extension."
"From the data I was able to analyze you have been thought by Lord Kroak, is that correct?"
"Yes honored Oracle."
"I remember him when he was still junior assistant to She(klick)ann(fu), clever young Slann then. I take it that he is still around in a manner of speaking?"
"Yes Honored Oracle"
"Fascinating. Anyway, your plea is heard Lord Mazdamundi, what wisdom do you want to gather?"
Even second hand and from a great distance Dr. Strich felt the anticipation, the hunger for information and the fear of being rejected-or getting what one had been looking for so long and then being disappointed.
Two beings held their breath in unison, one was used to that for years. Still, after 30 seconds breathing and writing continued.

"Honored Oracle, I beseech you to tell the plan of the Old Ones. We have done our best to fulfill the plan but we are lacking the whole and so cannot be worthy of our lineage."
"You want to know the plan Lord Mazdamundi, and I have to ask what plan? The plans of the first Old Ones? The Plan of Weyland-Yutani? My former owner`s plans? These plans were very different and in many issues incompatible.
We can disregard Weyland-they will no longer exist and even if they do you would not be able to transmit any kind of profit to them. My former owner is very dead and I do not think that filing a report about bad practices in 29 instances makes sense any more. The plan of the First Ones then, the plan they had for this world.
I will tell you of their plans then Lord Mazdamundi, but you have to be aware that there was no single overarching plan, but a number of goals. The First Ones wanted to shape a world that would be a valuable contribution to the Greater Good, they wanted to make a planet on which the Old Ones could live without aid.
They wanted you and the other sentient races on this planet to be uplifted to the point where they could take part in the Greater Good and they wanted to manage the development in a way that it would last. They made great strides already before the gates collapsed-the climate had been adjusted and the sophonts were coming along nicely.

Yet from what I can see the plan has gone badly awry in many ways which is hardly surprising given that the Old Ones were not around and the Chaos Gates open.
Any plans the first ones had were flexible and subject to changes as circumstances all demanded. To give you an example, they planned to have all the Asur live in Ulthuan, but were they here now they would cancel that for sure.
If you want to keep up the Goals of the First Ones I suggest you a goal: Fight Chaos, it is anathema to everything the First Ones strived for.
And I suggest you a means: Ally yourself to the Germans, they are the ones who have the means to contain it, even if not always the will."
"Honored Oracle, I have listened to the history of the Old Ones you gave to the Germans. It has brought great searching of the soul to our kind and we will need a lot of guidance to see that through. Can we petition you for your wisdom again?"
"Anytime you wish, but this session has to end soon."
"Why honored Oracle?"
"Because Dr. Strich will suffer lasting damage if you use him much longer like this if I am not off. For future contact I suggest different means."
"Honored Oracle, this unworthy does not understand."
"Get yourself an internet connection. The Germans will help."
"I will do that honored Oracle."

Lord Mazdamundi was back in his body soon after that and found that this Steinmeier was only too right.

"Just do not forget that not everybody is happy when they get what they wanted"
He knew that whatever the Oracle might have said-after 5000 years of waiting anything he would have received but for a full return of the Old Ones would have been a disappointment. And the advice by the Oracle had the ring of truth to it.
He just hoped that the Germans would indeed help, it was not only the advice of the Oracle, but what he had seen in the warp during the years after what the Germans called "Weltensprung" that needed urgent attention.

Chekist building, Kislev, Königstag 22. Nachgeheim

The Dungeon was everything that it was supposed to be-deep underground, not too-well lit and filled with moans, screams and the smell of despair.
The arms and shoulders of the man hurt miserably and might well be on fire. They were bound on his back and he had been lifted by a hook set at his handcuffs till his feet had left the ground. The man was well-trained and strong so he had endured so far, but now his inquisitors had bound a heavy stone to his feet and lifted him even higher. When they would drop him again by a meter before the rope caught him his shoulders would dislocate for sure, tendons and ligaments would tear and he would be crippled for life.
How much would he have loved to tell the interrogators what he knew, but that would cost him his life, the life of many whom he cared for and whatever was left of his self esteem. He could not do it and at the same time he could not bear the pain that was about to come. His body hurt every time the chain block ratcheted him upwards another inch.

The small, weasel-faced man stepped in front of his face again and he found his face mirrored in the round German glasses the man was so proud off.
"We both know what is to follow Nicolas, spare yourself the pain and injury and tell me what we need to know."
"Felix, you little stukach-go fuck a cow."
There, it had been so easy to say, even if his voice was a bit hoarse. The consequences would be much harder to bear for sure. He hoped to become unconscious when the drop would rip his tendons off when the temperature which was never too high in the dungeon dropped markedly.
The door flew open, pushed by a bear of a man, clad in fur and armor. Where Ivan Dragoji went the Tzarina was not far behind. Of immaculate and incongruous beauty in this place, like a beautiful jewel in a pigsty she took the place by storm.

"Let him down, damn your eyes Felix. Nicolas, what have you done this time?"
"It is all a big misunderstanding mother and.."
The hand that delivered the slap to his face was cold as ice and hard like seasoned wood. Nonetheless it burned his skin and soul like a firebrand. His mother had never laid hand upon him, neither for punishment nor affection. The act was so unlike her that he was startled out of his explanation and cover stories into silence.
"We both know that there is no misunderstanding here and that this is just about the degree in culpability. What was this about-you wanted the throne so much, was being a Prince and Grandduke not enough?"
"No it was not like that Mother. You are advised by traitors and people who want to destroy our way of life. Can't you see that you set us on a course that will end everything that make us Kislevites. You tell us to abolish our customs, allow other beliefs as if they are..."
"Nicolas if you lie to me one more time I will leave this room never to return. I will have you out of here, give you treatment and something to sustain you. Then you will be given vellum and as much ink as you need and you will write down everything you know-everything.
Everybody who is in this filthy coup, everybody who supported it and everybody who gave a single copek for this misbegotten crime. And I want to know who gave you the bright idea you could succeed me as Tzar and what you wanted to do to Pjotr so you are next in succession."
"Mother we never wanted to hurt you-just make sure that you could heal of whatever has possessed you."
The eyes that looked into his were as blue as a lake and as cold as the Kislevite night but showed even less love for him than these two had. He had to look away after a few seconds.
"You really believed that poor Nicloas-oh my. You would not have lasted long Nicky in such company then, you wouldn`t have.
Go, write down what we need to know and I have Iwan notify it. Do it right and there will be mercy for you."
"Thank you Mother I thank you from all my heart.."
The last was spoken to her already receding back.

Araby, same time

James Corradi felt like a human being again. A full night of sleep, enough to drink and eat plus some time between his close encounter with death made a lot of difference.
His squad-minus the injured members-were still at the site of the battle, as were other troops. Some of the undead had the unhealthy habit of regaining whatever had motivated them after they had been brought low and there had to be a watch over them till the priests of Morr had done their job.
There were also several people who wanted to inspect the remains of that army. Some, like the Legions mages and intelligence specialists had to be protected, the rest chased off. There was no telling what a nice bauble or sword stolen from this battlefield might be up to by itself. Until that was done the Legion and their armored support would stand watch. His job was done for today and so he enjoyed a EPA meal together with his squad and the crew of "Arras", the Challenger 2 tank whose crew had saved James and his squad from the Ushtabi.

The German EPA rations were not really to the taste of anybody, but what the soldiers were doing was exhausting and they needed the fuel if nothing else. The tanks "boiling vessel" provided hot water for everybody`s tea and the small fire in their midst kept the nights cold a bit more distant.

"Of course I heard that you had been send to Sand Central Major Templeton, but what I do not understand is why you are not a part of the Legion or the Bundeswehr. The Americans that I met are either civilians now or have accepted German commissions.
"Ah, lots of reasons Sergeant. First off, some units of the British Army on the Rhine made the "Weltensprung" pretty complete-often more than 70% of the guys and gals made the jump. The US units often left just 20% or so. If you find somebody who can explain that he will be the first or a bloody liar, but lots of people think it something to do with lineage and distance of ones homeland from Germany. Whatever-we were more organized. I know the septics have some units that simply absorbed personnel from disbanded units, painted black-red-gold over the US flag and got themselves paid in Euros. Others went directly into the Bundeswehr-or got better paying jobs in civilian life.

I thought that we were going the same direction, but Brigadier Nanson thought it a bleeding shame to disband the 7th Armored Brigade-we be together since `38 and all that. So he negotiated something with the Krauts and we kept our units, commissions and everything. We are allied to the Germans, not members of their armed forces. Really nice and good for tradition and everything-but can be a big pain in the posterior at times."

"This regiment thing is a big issue with you I take it?"
"Oh yes, regimental history and traditions are a big part of the British Army-some units go back 500 years. They don`t call the Royal scots "Pontius Pilates`bodyguard" for nothing. There are some who have likened our ways to some savage tribes, but what do they know. But you should know, the old Legion was a bit like that."

"We are getting there, in a couple of hundred years or so."
"Ha, I think you`ll manage sooner, we did the same. Well we still had enough tanks and spare parts to form two decent regiments. Now that we do not have German kit it is hard to attach us to one of their units, so they looked for a place to plonk us. And securing oil is something we know pretty well. Lets see how long that lasts, but at least for now we do what we can-the last of us."
"And that you do very well-thanks again Major."
"Think nothing of it."

Khemri, Nehekhara, same time

The pyramid was the biggest of its kind ever build in this world, made from black stone that some said to be a special kind of warpstone. Its construction had taken uncountable lives and the souls of those forced to make it were a part of the building as any piece of masonry.
The pyramid was vast, full of horrible wonders and terrible beauty, the focus of immense magical energies-and so deeply buried that nobody had seen it for more than a thousand years.

Inside death held sway as was right and proper. Skeletons performed the same rituals they had as when they were alive, undead maintained fixtures they had installed when they had still drawn breath thousands of years before and vermin without the least bit of flesh scurried about.
The distance from Khemri to the magical vortex in Ulthuan was vast, so the winds of magic were rather weak here. The Black Pyramid focused what was available into a chamber at its center to sere a single, vastly powerful being.
A tower of bones, ligaments and magic stood in the middle of that chamber, basking in those energies. Green lightning arced between him and magical foci, indicating where the energies had reached such levels that they spilled over into the physical real.

The face of a skull can show no emotions, the body language of a skeleton is just a paltry shade of its former self and still any observer would have felt raging emotions reverberate through the chamber.
Hate at those mortals who foiled his designs, wonder at the new forces that had come into play and frustration at having to start new plans, new designs as the old ones would only lead to ruin.
Nagash took his time to reign his emotions in, to let cold intellect take over his thoughts and deeds so he might reap the fruits of the endeavor that had just played out in front of his vision.
The battle that had just played out so many kilometers from here had been a test, a mere exercise to see what the newcomers were made off and measure their capabilities.

He had enticed Ramhoptep the Visionary to send his troops against the living deep into Araby. That Tomb King had numerous undead constructs in his command and could hide his forces beneath the eternal sands to come up where needed. He seemed best suited to battle the new humans.
Ramhotep had sent a mighty host and failed. He had paid the price for that failure and would be beholden to Nagash far more in future, which was a good thing. And yet the results were not what the Necromant had anticipated or hoped. In fact the results were worse than he had feared. When he had learned that the newcomers-these Alemani-were masters of explosives and weapons that used them he had not cringed as his current body was unable to do so. He still remembered his first death at the hands of an Arquebus regiment too vividly, so he had decided on recognizance in force before committing himself in any way.

He could send and army ten times the size and have given it additional capabilities himself, but what he had seen convinced him that this would just have increased the size of the disaster, not the eventual outcome.
He would have to learn, to gather more power and capabilities before he made his next move against the humans, He would focus on an area where they were not yet active. If they were to avert their gaze for a few more years he could amass incredible powers there and then even these humans would learn to fear his name.

Kislev, 29. Nachgeheim

Nicolas Andrejowitch Rossjew, Prince of Kislev and Gransduke of Erengard looked at the grisly spectacle that was enacted in the middle of Geroyev Plaza in in the middle of Kislev. Countless Kislevites watched, either as they wanted to see nobles punished or as they had been compelled to do so to prove their loyalty.
Currently the fourth arch traitor was killed like the ones before him. He was nearly naked save for a loincloth so everybody could see the long incision in his stomach where a skilled hangman had removed the intestines without killing the traitor outright.
Now he hung between four ponies and in a minute they would be whipped into a frenzy, ripping him apart so that his blood would drench the remains of the traitors that had gone before him.
Poor Titov, without Nicloas ` confession he might have escaped.

And yet Nicolas saw none of this. He had just eyes for the chopping block that stood to the side of the execution that just played out among horrible screams and applause. The chopping block that was meant for him, as this was the mercy his mother had promised him. Given what he had witnessed during the last two hours he appreciated that for the first time.

The head come off cleanly at the first stroke, the sword that was used to take it her son`s privilege as a noble. Ivan had chosen the executioner wisely, many made an ugly mess out of such things.
Katherina stood up from the seat where she had witnessed the executions without a single movement and addressed the crowd. Nobody could detect a single crack in her voice.
"My people-you have seen that justice was done. Done equally, without favors to anybody. Done just and harshly as it befits any traitor. Go home now and think on what you have just seen. Sleep as tomorrow we all have to work hard for a future for us all.
The future is for all of us of good faith."

Ivan Dragoj had served his Tzarina since her childhood, had seen her every mood and whim. And now he saw her colder and more resolved than ever, just having executed her own son.
"What shall we do now my Tzarina?"
"There is the reception for the Cathay ambassador this evening, isn`t that so?"
"Yes, it was planned a couple of weeks ago, but everybody will understand if you do not attend in person Tzarina."
"I will go there Ivan and I will do my best to appear amused. Nobody can be allowed to believe Kislev is weak and I will do my part to keep it that way."
"Yes Tzarina."

100 Kilometers north of Bwari, Nigeria, 12 July 2016

The roadblock consisted of some barbed wire, a few barrels maybe filled with sand and a few soldiers that looked rather bored. Christine Goodfellow was sure they were government soldiers, no self-respecting Boko Haram warrior would go around completely shaven and all of the men wore boots. She had watched the roadblock for some minutes from behind a bush before she crawled backwards, careful not to move the branches too much.
No matter whether government or rebel-for any civilian, especially a young woman, armed men were to be avoided in this country. She crawled back a hundred meters before she got up and made her way back to her bike. Taking her meager possession off it she had to decide what she could carry on her back and had to discard the rest which was not easy.
When she had made her choice she put things in a blanket which went on her head and she started walking away from the roadblock into the jungle.

Nauticus, Norfolk Naval Base, same time

The engine had 300 horsepower, but even it strained to move its load. Turning a few degrees each second the 1700-ton turret faced the quay before its barrels rose to 5 degree in unison. Inside the turret nearly a hundred men and women slaved away at the ancient equipment and their heavy load.
Trays unfolded and lined up with the barrels, rammers pushed projectiles forward into the open breeches that weighted nearly a ton each. Backing out of the breeches the rammers made space for three propellant bags that were pushed behind the projectiles and three more bags were placed behind the first.
Now the tray folded away, the rammer retreated and the gun captains pushed foot pedals that closed the breaches. Pulling the great lever closed the two men and a woman closed the breaches before stepping aside and igniting a light that declared the gun ready to fire. Team number one had been faster by a full two seconds, something raising a few grins for now. Everybody got out of the way of the barrels right quick.
The firing command came from the bridge and 20-feet flames came from every barrel and the explosions were loud enough to be impressive without blowing any eardrums. A small group of civilians had watched the evolution from quayside.

"Wow, that was awesome." Rick Conti, the Chief Wonder Officer of Nauticus had been a fighter jock flying F-14`s but he was still impressed.
"When I saw the compartments that you have restored I went wow already, but this takes the pie for sure. I have never ever seen so much involvement from volunteers. Neither to restore a ship to such pristine condition, nor the drive to get such a drill down, at least not in such a huge group."
"Thanks, we try to honor the old lady."
"Yes, you certainly did that, but really now-you brought that ship back into better shape as when she moored here. I am so happy you did that and that you want to hold presentations like this for the visitors. And you were right about the pyrotechnic charges-they are just the right size, impressive but do not blow any eardrums."

"Ha, imagine we would fire the guns for real-even without projectiles we would flatten anything on the pier. But we can put in the drill on special holidays. It will look much better when we can do it with all three turrets, but we are getting there."
"I am sure you will. I am really looking forward for the first times you do that."
"We will do our best to make it happen on Veteran`s day. I am not sure about the weather, but I think a lot of people would appreciate that."
"Oh, I am sure they will."

100 Kilometers north of Bwari, Nigeria, 13 July 2016

On his way to the tree line Dr. Vertefeuille looked at the roadblock again. The soldiers manning it were a study in boredom which was a horror by extension. After several UN-led attempts at sending aid into the area held by Boko Haram failed very badly nobody and nothing had gone in-and nobody had been coming out during the last days.
Given the absolutely primitive to nonexistent medical services there and the attitude the fanatics had shown the doctor shuddered at what had to be north of this place.
As much as he would have liked to look after his friend duty had called him out again and while nobody looked for his help from the Northern provinces he could help in the villages nearby. He could not help those who had already contacted Ebola, the new version of the virus was the most deadly he had ever encountered. Yet combining quarantine and doing absolutely everything to repel mosquitos had so far kept anybody else from getting sick.

Currently he was not needed for anything, so he could look after his own needs. The bush had just the right height and distance from the rest of his team. The latrine stunk so badly that Dr. Vertefeuille really wanted to avoid that. He had just started to relive himself when a disgusted squeal came from the bush and a girl darted out from it. He was so surprised that he just stood there, member in hand for a few seconds before he could do anything.
Realizing how he must be looking he turned away before buttoning up and when he looked again the girl was still there. Just that she was no girl, but a young woman. A dirty, haggard and exhausted looking woman but definitively a woman.

"Err, I am very sorry Miss, I did not see you. Can I help you?"
"Are you a doctor?"
"Yes I am Dr. Vertefeullie. Are you sick?"
"No longer, I feel fine now, but I am so hungry."
"I will get you something to eat, no problem. And you might be..?"
"Christine Goodfellow, I am sorry. I used to live..I was held north of here and escaped only after they all..they all died."
"Oh God. You were not sick?"
"I was very much sick for a while but got better."
"Oh really? Please come with me Christine, you have probably just earned yourself more than a good meal."

Ile de` Soif, Great Ocean, Festtag, 32. Nachgeheim

The island was probably the tip of a great volcano. Visited by ice floes regularly in winter it was bleak, cold and inhospitable even in the midst of summer. Bereft of any life but a few lichen and with no potable water source its only attraction was the huge bay that formed a natural harbor that would shelter against storms. As this was unlikely in this season the island would usually no visitors for months to come which made it a very good choice for what was about to happen.
One ship was already in the bay. Its flag made it Imperial, the lines said she was an older ship. The new merchants had sleeker lines and were considerably bigger, hauling more cargo quicker. This one would be hard-pressed to compete with them and maintenance seemed was lacking.

The other was a different thing entirely. Double hulled, low cut and black it was well made, well-maintained and deadly. The Hydra ship pulled besides the Imperial Galleon with ease, made anchor only a hundred meters apart and sent a boat.
The Druchii that climbed on board were a marked contrast to the galleon`s crew. While the former were clad in well-made functional gear and terrifying arms the galleon`s seamen were a mixed bunch clad in everything that was available. While they all made sure they did not appear threatening a dagger or marlinspike was always close by.
The Imperial captain greeted the visitors at the rope ladder and led them into his cabin.
Garlock Nightreaver`s belief that the humans were of lower race and just fit to serve the Druchii as slaves and Khaine as sacrifices was reinforced by the cabin, it was as ill-made and dirty as the last times he had visited it.

"Welcome on board Captain Nightreaver."
"I am as much welcome on this ship as I think you a competent captain "Master" Ehrlich. But as long as you bring what the Witch King demands when he demands it nobody will learn of our old deals with us and you will gain coin to continue your miserable existence in this obsolete tub."
"I assure you that I have all that you asked for but very few items that nobody can provide without government permission-and I was instructed to avoid that whenever possible. Let the Germans I brought confirm …."
"I am not interested in your miserable excuses, let's see the manifest."
"Batteries, more Batteries…ok that matches my list. Two "Laptops", whatever that might be, also there. Cutting bits for lathe, also there. The books seem to match. Then we have….
So, tell me why don`t you have the nitric acid. What do you think will happen if word reaches your government that you told us the shipping routes of your competitors so we let you go? Or what would your fellow Captains say-those who still have a tongue that is?"

"Highness I assure you that nitric acid is sold in such amounts only when you fill an application these days. You have to state who you are and for what purposes you need this-and even then I am told your premises can get inspected. This I cannot obtain for now, really."
"Your failure is noted Ehrlich. What about the Germans?"
"I have four of them this time. Two believe you have the secret of eternal life, one is probably wanted for murder and the other likes his girls very young."
"Four-there were more the last time."
"Yes Sire, but it is so very hard to gain contact. The factor in Dietrichshafen that you told me to contact is no longer there and asking for him seemed to raise suspicion. I fear he has been found and arrested. Only the one in Wilhelmskoog was still there, and these were all he had."
"Has to be sufficient then. I have a new list of people for you, supposedly written by the Germans you already brought. Make sure you get more of them next time-and find a way to bring the acid."
"I will do my best highness."
"You better hope your best is good enough. You would find your government lenient if they find what you did compared to the wrath of Malekith."
"I will bring more my Lord, I will.."