150 kilometers north of Zuwarrah, Bäckertag 28. Jahrdrang 2524
"Driver halt below the ridgeline." James Corradi watched the driver of his "Serval" without being too obvious. Pierre de Nivelle had taken all the respective courses and was fully qualified to drive the off-road vehicle. Still the Breton had not seen anything like a car not drawn by animals before he was 22 and driving was all but natural for him. Yet this was the Foreign Legion where everybody had to learn. Pierre managed well enough and the noncom deployed his squad below the ridgeline with silhouetting themselves too much. While his men readied rifles and a light machine gun again anything threatening-in this part of the desert practically everything that moved-he used his binox to scan the terrain before him.
The slightly undulating terrain in front of him was made up from rock-hard soil and scattered stones. There was no sign of any life or any other movement and when that picture did not change during the last minutes it was time to go on. Corradi pushed the "to-talk" button of his wireless and waited for the "beep" that signaled connection.
"Chevalier one for Bir Hackheim."
"Bir Hackheim hears you"
"Chevalier one has just passed point Tango 14, nothing to report."
"Noted Chevalier one. We will relay to Arras."
"Will proceed to Tango 16 then and report from there."
"Bir Hakheim confirms."
While the noncom stood inside the moving vehicle and thought about "Arras"-the armored task force formed of the Desert Rats that followed the route he and the other two teams he commanded scouted for them. All of them made their way to a Necropolis more than 200 hundred kilometers away. It had been unassuming until a "Hammer Hawk" drone overflew it a week before. The drone had not found anything out of the ordinary except from really strong radioactive emissions which had not been there a week ago. The Legion had dispatched a task force to look into this and he was at its vanguard.
300 km north of Zuwarrah, Königstag 30. Jahrdrang
James Corradi tried to find a less uncomfortable position behind his rock and scanned the place in front of him again. The binox provided a very clear picture of temples that were open to the sun through their collapsed roofs, streets half-buried beneath the sands, and countless mausoleums beneath a merciless sun. He did not see anything that might be considered a threat, no movement and a lot of ruins otherwise.
"Björn, Pierre-place the wands. Rest of us covers them."
Corradi used the scope on his rifle to scan the sector that was "his" for the duration. He needed a drink, he needed to pee, several stones tried to bury themselves through the soft parts of his armor-yet he did neither stop looking for trouble nor wishing his men would hurry up. The two could be seen hammering metal staves into the ground and switching something on. When they were back the noncom went to the Serval, took care of his liquid problems and went to the specialist they had brought with them.
Lieutenant Knobloch had finished unpacking something which looked like a toy tank cobbled together by gun nuts. Called the "Schwert" (Sword") drone they had a couple of sensors and could be equipped with a weapon, currently a grenade launcher.
"Ok Sergeant, ready when you are. You steer this thing, I look at the sensors."
"Yes Sir. Pierre-you stay at the Serval. Rest secures the OP."
Normally the Noncom should have supervised his squad, yet his abilities with the drone controller were much enhanced by years of Playstation use his legionaries missed out on. So he watched both the drone from afar and the screen that displayed what the camera on the drone saw. There was nothing new to be seen or heard except for the electric whine of the tracked drone, but something had to be here-the radioactivity was through the roof. It would be survivable in the short run, but something in this Necropolis radiated like Fukushima 2.0.
Corradi started to drive his drone up and down the road and monitored the Geiger counter. It spiked when he drove past one unremarkable mausoleum, so on the second attempt he stopped there and went for the granite door. Nothing changed and Corradi debated with himself how to go on when the specialist piped in.
"Sergeant, I have several readings at bearing 110, 122 and 136. Can`t give you a distance but they are getting stronger by the minute."
"Arras, this is Chevalier one. We might have visitors soon."
"Chevalier one, this is Arras, copy."
"Legionaries, get ready to get back to the truck quickly."
The noncom reversed his course and accelerated the drone to a little more than walking speed. It drove straight for the edge of the metropolis and again nothing visible appeared on the screen.
"Sergeant, bearings now 110, 122 and 149. First two are getting stronger."
Lieutenant Knobloch monitored a set of seismic sensors which the Legion had issued just weeks before. The last battle had provided a reminder that the Undead could stay buried under the sands-and even move short distances there. But even with these readings nothing was to be seen.
"Sergeant, no bearing change on the first bearings, increased signal strength."
"Fall back to the truck folks, now."
Corradi placed the drone on a small plaza and retrieved his rifle before walking to the Serval. Mounting up he placed himself behind the vehicles auto grenade launcher.
"Pierre, 100 meters to the right, then back up the ridge."
When the Serval finally went up the ridge far enough to see something nothing happened for about five seconds, then all hell broke loose. Close to the point which the legionaries had just occupied the sands shifted and then erupted in many small clouds that revealed skeletons. Skeletons that wore the weathered remains of armor and dented blades on staffs that should have rotted away to nothing without the magic that kept them. The Undead oriented themselves to the point that the Legionaries had just vacated and were slow to pick up where their intended prey had gone. James Corradi was glad to offer a pointer when he opened fire. The auto Grenade Launcher fired slowly compared to the machine guns that he was used to, the recoil was strong but drawn out and the report curiously muted. A brace of grenades exploded at their right side and a bit to the back, a small correction brought six grenades per second into the group of animated bones.
Splinters started to fly weapons dropped into the sand and all movement ceased a few heartbeats after James had pressed the trigger. The noncom was about to grin when more sand shifted in various places around them and the ground give birth to more skeletons, to Scorpions bigger than his truck and swarms of dead insect hulks.
"Driver-forward. Get us out of here and closer to Hill 117."
The soldiers in the truck started to fire all of their weapons. More grenades sailed out, assault rifles and a machine gun sent out streams of tracer, yet the jolting ride made many of the projectiles miss whatever they were aimed for. The Serval passed close to one of the Scorpions and had to swerve around to avoid this. At a distance where it seemed that Corradi could touch it the grenades could not miss and their explosions dropped the undead construct back into the ground. When the truck came around the sergeant could see swarms of things, including huge animated statues walk through the metropolis while more Undead emerged from the many mausoleums. Most moved in the direction of the abandoned drone, others seemed to mill around aimlessly.
One of the statues had nearly reached the tracked vehicle when something struck it at the midline and shattered the stones. More fire ripped through the streets and killed or scattered the Undead. A deep roar emerged from many sources and armored shapes could be seen to climb past the ridgeline to the south of the Necropolis.
"Chevelier one, this is Arras. Good job, get behind hill 117."
Warrior IFV`s and Challenger tanks went down every road the Necropolis had, shooting anything that moved while infantry tried to cover the flanks. The Undead had nothing to stop the Desert Rats, yet few managed to find rest beneath the sands before Her Majesties' displeasure caught up with them.
James Corradi met Major Templeton in the middle of the town before his hulking tank that provided overwatch for a group of engineers who did something in front of the temple that the legionary had marked for its radioactivity.
"Good job James. Would you mind working as a beater for the next hunt I organize?"
"As long as I am not the fox I am game."
"I think that can be arranged. Yet, would you mind terribly to take over the eastern sector? Deploy to that ridgeline and make sure that nobody tries to crash the party?"
"Can do."
"Splendid old boy, then get to it."
The next 12 hours were slow going. The legionaries reunited with the other Serval that held up the rest of the squad and watched the desert for exactly nothing. Neither they binoculars nor the retrieved seismic sensors would reveal anything that might be a threat. James found opportunities to watch the proceedings in the Necropolis from time to time. Several drones drove into the temple and about two hours later a number of silver clad humans followed. There was a bit of a commotion when one of the silver clad figures was carried out on a stretcher, but apart from that nothing at all happened. Corradi organized a watch rotation, ate a tasteless ration and slept for an hour before he was raised again by the wireless.
"All elements, this is Arras. Stay alert, we close up shop and that may get the NSD`s bothered."
The noncom watched the 7th remove themselves from the plaza in front of the temple and he saw the dust cloud that rose a heartbeat before the deep rumble of the explosion reached him. He waited for the "Not sufficiently dead" to claim revenge on the intruders and then he waited some more. Half an hour later he was on the way back to Fort Zinderneuf, leaving the Necropolis behind him in its natural state-dead.
He met up with Tempelton a week later in a small restaurant both found to their liking and went through a lamb that was so tender that it could barely have reached a month of age. When the first two courses had been served and Tempelton had filled their glasses with a very nice beer he had brought with him they found time to talk shop.
"So nobody did tell you? That is not nice, it was interesting enough. We had to make our ways past several traps and a few NSD`s. Not too difficult, even if the good doctor Roberts might disagree. It got hot down there, so hot that we lost one of the drones actually. We found a central room, likely a mages lab down there. Lots of stuff in there, but mostly burned to cinder, in the middle was a heap of molten metal which gave off all that radiation. Since we found nothing too threatening we dropped the house on the remains and were done with it."
"Any idea what happened?"
"Well nothing that we can prove and such, but it looks like the mage who worked down there wanted to make his own bomb."
"What?"
"Yes. The eggheads think that he heard somewhere that you could make a marvelous bomb with Plutonium. Now the rest is speculation as we do not have so much proof and all, but they think our mage managed to transmogrify some lead into Plutonium 239. Must have been quite an accomplished chap our mage as he managed to do that to roughly 10 kilogram in one go."
"Oh my God."
"In-bleeding-deed. All these newborn Plutonium atoms so close together decided to have a hell of a party. Well, that chap did not manage to compress that stuff properly, otherwise he would have had a bit of instant sunshine on his hands. That way he just got himself a nice oven and a good way to get rid of any pests in his house for roughly the next 12000 years or so."
"There is nothing more dangerous than a smattering of knowledge, right."
"Well apart from my mother-in-law I am inclined to agree with you old boy. One more cold one?"
Karaz-a-Karak Markttag 9. Mitgefühl
As befitted the greatest of all Dawi cities, its capital and cultural center Karaz-a-Karak was a vast edifice, full of ancient marvels, magically lit halls and busy dawi. It has many districts given to commerce, government and production. The halls of the machinist guild are so big and that they are an own district and no being-Dawi or no, who is not a member of this guild, is admitted into these halls.
It was not the biggest workshop, it`s special feature the closeness to a ventilation shaft and the modern mills and lathes therein. Its denizens had worked hard for months in great secrecy and had weathered many setbacks while trying to hide their doings from their more conservative brethren. This was vital; otherwise their great work might end before it was finished.
Yet today no more secrecy was possible. Thunder and flames lit the workshop, a roar unlike these halls had ever heard.
Burlock Damminson looked aghast at the source of this sound and fury. He had always known that his son had the same rebellious streak that had made him perform many experiments in his youth. The last one of them had cost him his left arm and had given him the wisdom to understand the value of improvement and refinement above untested innovation.
Yet his son had obviously lost any sense-how could he do such a thing. He had to raise his voice to a roar to be heard above the unearthly clamor.
"Shut this damn thing off Grimm, shut it off-you have a lot of explaining to do."
"It works-it finally works just right Father-can`t you see?"
"No I cannot see. What is the meaning of of-this."
"This is Heiner Kikeberg father. He has helped us in this project."
"Are you totally mad son? You know very well that only members of the guild are allowed in the halls."
"So?"
"What-so. How can a human be in here?"
"If he is a member of the guild, that`s how."
"What-how can a human be a member of the guild?"
"Like all of us. He forged a steel that will split stone, he has made two metal rods that stick together because they are so well machined, he knows the properties of metals and the tables-that`s how."
"He is a human you Kilmin."
"So? Father-read the rules for the application into the guild. Really read them-they say what you have to do to get access to the guild-not what you have to be. Nothing in them says that you have to be Dawi."
"It is in the spirit of the law son, you know it very well."
"I do not know this father-and neither did Borin Hradlafson."
"Borin accepted him into the guild?"
"Borin tested Heiner and accepted him as apprentice as he is not here long enough to become journeyman."
"And he will not be if I have to say anything about it. So what is this piece of junk?"
"This piece of junk is a petrol piston engine father, and except some very small parts every part of this engine was built in these halls."
"So what is this going to power-a children`s cart? So what is it going to power-a children`s toy-it is so small.
"Yes father, but children`s toys do not have 200 horsepower."
"Don`t boast, your sins weight heavily enough"
"I do not-look at the pump. Heiner-start the engine please."
Before Burlock could protest the engine rumbled to life again, shooting small flames from the pipes on both sides. The Dwarf was too proud to cover his ears when the sound became deafening and too surprised to do anything else when he watched the brass needle that showed how many liters were pumped per minute.
It took the engine more than a minute to ramp up to full power, but when it did the needle clung to the "212" line.
Grimm held the power for a few minutes to make his point before he made the cut-throat sign that made his human "apprentice" shut off the fuel supply.
"212 horsepower indeed. How much does it weight?"
"230 kilogram father. A bit heavy, but it is made from cast iron."
"A bit heavy? Son, this is nearly a horsepower per kilogram. This is incredible. How much does it consume?"
"Kikewitz-can you answer the Guild Masters question."
"We have to measure this one carefully yet, but it should consume roughly 180 gram of fuel per horsepower and hour."
"Are you sure manling?"
"I know this kind of engine very well guild master, and yes the consumption is roughly that."
"Our best engines double that, how is that possible?"
"Higher compression than your hot-bulb engines, less internal friction and better combustion Guild Master."
"So you know these engines well?"
"I have worked on them many years Guild Master."
"Have you invented them?"
"No Master, I do not have that honor. This is a 327 CID V-8 Chevy Small Block engine and in my old world it was the most-produced engine of all times."
"And you made this here, with materials and tools owned by the Dawi."
"They very most parts of it yes. We had to buy some small parts like some bearings and the ignition in Germany, but the rest was made in these rooms."
"And you think we need such a "small block engine"?"
"It is light enough to power gyrocopters, planes and cars with ease. And if you think it is not powerful enough we can more than double the horsepower. I just did not think it wise with a prototype made from parts here."
"Do this and you will not stay apprentice man-Kikewitz"
Lotheren, Ulthuan, Sigmarstag 6. Mitgefühl
Eltaril of the House of Ethelorne felt dirty just for being in this room, let alone offering the services he did. He had been talked into this by his mad uncle Aurelius, a polite request of the healer guild who hinted that the "highest powers" were behind this and his gambling debts. Still to sink so low should be unthinkable to him, let alone see him do this. And yet, while his current duties might damage his reputation with his fellow guild members forsaking ones word and duties carried a much higher price. None of this made him feel any better about what he was about to do. Not that the "person" in front of him would detect this in any way, and if she did who would care.
"Yes Frau Katzenberger, we can restore the..you call it subcutaneous fat under the skin by our craft, it will remove any wrinkles. We can remove the small scars and impurities of the skin with Isha`s help, then it will look like the skin of a maiden. We can improve the flow of blood through your body which will make you healthier."
"Are you sure we can do this? It sounds like magic."
It is magic Frau Katzenberger and we Asur are the foremost practitioners of the light side of it. You can feel safe in our hands."
"Oh yes doctor, I do."
Dirty dirty and primitive. And yet it paid the bills.
The Asur had started to import German products to increase their capabilities as per the plan drawn up by Aurelius, the Asur ambassador to the Reiksbund. Riverine ships, mills, lathes and smelters, wireless sets, power saws, tractors… the list was endless. And while many Asur might despise the humans those who actually worked with these "toys" knew their value very well. Yet the bill that came with these items was steep. The Phoenix King himself was said to have blanched at the first draft of the budget and setting up reciprocal trade had immediately become a high priority. Yet, what items were there to trade? The German appreciated Asur art, some spices and foodstuff, but none of that made up a tenth of what Ulthuan needed. There were contacts with Lidl and Aldi now to grow tropical fruits from seeds provided by the Germans and they accepted gold and silver readily enough. Yet more was clearly needed and when the first healers that studied in Germany had indicated that many Germans would pay very well for cosmetic magic that would allow them to hide their age a deal had been struck with a provider called Asclepius.
So now there was a hospital with mixed German and Asuran crew that provided "The magic of eternal beauty" for their well-paying patients. Eltaril felt so dirty, yet today`s session would pay for a couple of tractors.
Doitsu ikku, Shirasagi-Onsen, Nippon
Markus Ruhdorfer had just half-heartedly followed Gendo Tetsumori´s advertisment for marriage, after the first quarter of it. He already knew most arguments, so most of his brain was working on a solution for the mess Tetsumori was landing him in, while the Nipponese Daimyo was still talking.
No unnecessary involvement was one rule for the German group in Nippon. This was done to prevent favoritism and hinder bad feelings from forming. The two envoy groups in Sumeto and Shirasagi-Onsen actually had sent messages to this effect through the flower soon after arriving.
Considering Gendo Tetsumori´s argumentation, which touched these points quite openly, he had spent significant time to find weak spots and loop holes in the German message on how to working together.
He is a magnificent bastard, that´s for sure.
In a certain way, the Nipponese daimyo was right. In more rural, more traditional regions of Nippon cracking the red tape of layers upon layers of tradition and ritual could only be done from the inside.
Warhammer Nippon lacked the pressing need Earth´s Japan felt at the tail end of the 19th century to move forward very fast. The political situation here was very different compared to that on Earth over a 140 years back.
Oh, certain groups and regions of Nippon wanted nothing more than to jump into their own version of an industrial revolution, but that was centered on already existing, traditional centers of trade, production and administration, only few really rural areas.
On one hand, Germany did not want to intrude and press nations they met too much, on the other hand, Germany needed trade partners to keep the economy going and partners to defend this world against Chaos and other dangers.
Nippon was one of the few nations on the planet with real potential in a not too far future. In addition, they were the Warhammer version of old friends from home.
So the for now two groups of development helpers, with a rather different portfolio than on Earth, had helped Nippon to start its way into modern times. With success, as could be seen in Sumeto and Shirasagi-Onsen and their respective regions.
But as Gendo Tetsumori stated in his "advertisment", some regions needed more and special incentives. And for opening the locks there, Gendo stressed that the Germans needed connections which such a marriage could give them.
"If you know me as well as you believe, daimyo, you know that even if I would agree, I do not do favoritism. Not even for family members."
"Actually that is one reason I chose you. You are not only one of the few single Germans here in Shirasagi, but a man of integrity. While you need the connections a marriage gives you to get in, if you Germans want to change the way things are done in our less...advanced regions, you have to show them that not all is done with family and tradition."
Neither man said it aloud, but it was clear that the Tetsumori family would profit from changes in Nippon´s rural regions no matter what. The Clan did not only produce important products, but had embraced some changes coming with the Doitsu-jin. The Tetsumoris, as some other families in Nippon were well ahead of other, much more traditional, powerful Clans. Gendo Tetsumori was busy advancing the good position of his family, which would only become easier with a marriage as proposed.
Because favoritism or no favoritism, having a member of the German diplomatic corps in the family would help finding out how to best tailor proposals for the Germans. You don´t have to use connections, if you know how to "package" a draft contract.
For Markus Ruhdofer this was as clear as it was to Gendo and equally open were the advantages for the German efforts. Having better inroads would advance the development of the Nipponese rural areas faster. Better development would give Germany more access to materials and products of Nippon earlier and in larger numbers. Friendships could be developed or deepened.
A stronger Nippon would be a great help against dangerous Chaos activity in the Far East. and there was a ton of perks for both Germany and Nippon, if the tradition bound part of Nippon could be dragged into modern times.
Gendo Tetsumori had really spent time on developing his proposal. Markus Ruhdorfer knew that accepting would reap huge benefits for comparatively few drawbacks, but there was another thing.
While Markus was single and wanted to meet a nice girl to marry, he didn´t want to marry someone just for cold calculations. While their families and nations would harvest big benefits, it would be Erika and he himself who would have to live together for the rest of their lifes. While Markus was no stranger to the concept of marriage as a business matter on the intellectual level, such marriages could become hell for the persons involved, no matter the other benefits.
Pflullendorf, Angertag 5. Pflugzeit
The Special Forces training center had several well-equipped gymnasiums which were open at all hours. Like many other elite units the Special Weapons Testing Group did train together in most things but left personal fitness to each member. Not being subjected to the "Mickey Mouse shit" was one of the attractions of belonging to such a group yet woe betide anybody who let his fitness slip to the point where he or she endangered the mission.
Even so the gym was usually empty at this time of night, especially during a weekend. The only user was beating a punching bag with alarming frequency and power. A series of punches made the sack swing wider and wider till the last attack made it touch the ceiling at the apex of its arc.
This would have been a rather satisfying moment for most humans but the man punching at it just breathed heavily and the growl emerging from his throat managed to convey deep frustration and an amount of despair at the same time.
Pulling the boxing gloves from his fingers he gripped for the towel to get the perspiration off his head. Before he could do that he looked at the hands again-strong hands, with long fingers that ended in fingernails he had to clip nearly every day. Hands with more hairs on them as he ever had, strong hands with good reflexes that did not waver a millimeter. He was not sure if he should be more horrified by the feeling that these were not his hands or the feeling that they fitted him very well these days.
He sat at the floor of gym and simply did not know what to feel but confusion and desperation. He had no clear idea about his future.
"Feeling properly sorry for yourself?"
Ulrich Stoiber was on his feet before his mind had parsed that there was somebody in the room and in a defensive position before he had recognized the silent intruder.
"What do you know about me Ulrika Mandragova?"
"Not very much-and quite a lot at the same time. I was not born like this you know. So what is your problem?"
"Everything. These eyes show everybody that I am different. Some simply ask as if I am a part of a show, some dance around the subject and the worst try so very hard to dissemble. I smell them, the curiosity, the pity, the fear, ah."
"Don't get laid enough?"
"That is not the problem, really now. I`d just prefer women who do not want to be the prey to whom the predator does exactly what they want."
"Sounds not so serious."
"What do you want Ulrika-talk about who has it worst?"
The vampire dropped some equipment and gloves at Ulrich`s feet.
"No, I came to bust your sorry ass. You are the only one here who can give me a run for the money. You have no chance, but at least you are entertaining."
The growl that came from Ulrich`s chest would have threatened anybody human and sane, two characteristics that had not applied to Ulrika for a while now. When he exchanged his damp shirt for the protectors he saw the vampire`s eyes and they were hungry. Both near-human and vampire walked to the ring and vaulted the barrier.
"Anything special in mind?"
"Not so much, just a little fun for all."
"Well th..Ukrika had jumped from a standstill to his corner with one foot outstretched. If it would have connected it would have hurt at the very least, yet the German had already moved to the side and punched at the foot that missed his head by half an arm`s length. Ulrika dropped on her stomach and kicked with both legs to keep the tanker from following up. She had to accept a punch to the side of her knee that would have incapacitated a human and would have hurt her seriously but for the gloves both wore.
She managed to somersault into the far corner and turned with an outstretched leg that grazed across Ulrich`s upper body armor and kept him at length.
"Saw that coming, didn`t you?"
"Yes and that is part of the problem too."
"Why is that a..
The tanker was suddenly half a step forward and his right fist went for her face. She brought her hand up in time only to find it a feint while the real attack hit her stomach. It was not as powerful as it could have been without the feint and was softened both by glove and protective armor, yet she felt it for sure. Her leg went out in retaliation and her instep connected with the tankers upper leg but there was no reaction but for a grunt.
An unending series of punches went for her face, her larynx and her chest and she had to move as fast as she was able to fend them off. That she had maneuvered herself into one of the corners meant she was unable to evade and left Ulrich more space for footwork. She would have suspected him of having planned that from the moment she jumped if she would not have been so busy defending herself.
Two hits finally connected with her head and stomach respectively. The last hit allowed her to grip the tanker`s arm and twist just to see him jump up, turn and kick both legs squarely against her chest.
That propelled Ulrich far enough from her to escape her wrath and regain a defensive posture for himself.
It was a good thing that she did not have to breathe any more, otherwise things would have hurt even more than they did just now, which was already plenty. She was pretty sure that two ribs were doing their best to mend themselves together in her chest, time to stall for a bit. Maybe the German would appreciate that himself, he was breathing heavily enough.
"Like I said, you are entertaining enough. So what is the problem with seeing my moves ahead."
"That they are not my thoughts. I see what you are about to do and all possible counters. When I am out I no longer see beautiful houses or nicely decorated gardens, I see good cover and likely ambush positions. I no longer see good roads for my motorcycle but firing lanes and distances for the main gun of Wolf One.
I no longer think as Ulrich Stoiber, the friendly neighborhood agnostic, I think war and that is not me. I am becoming something else, and I am not sure what that will be."
"So you were born like this?"
"Don`t be silly, but growing up I had an idea what I could be like when I would be an adult."
"So you know you would come to this world and become one of its most dangerous warriors?"
"Are you.."
And that was when she was sure that he was distracted enough and her ribs held together with something more than spit and hope.
And she was nearly right. She did not try for anything too fancy, that he would see. She just stepped forward as fast as she could and used that momentum to give him her best punch. He must have realized something in the nick of time. Her fist grazed the protective ring around the tankers head and left a graze along his cheek bone. She followed up with a flurry of punches and kicks. Some of them hit the intended targets, others were blocked by lower arms that were in the way far too often. Still she managed to push the German back step by step till the ropes that bordered the ring stopped the retreat. She still punched him, yet he had hunkered down in a pose that allowed her to hit protected arms and legs only.
She punctuated her blows by her credo.
"Life on this world-on any world-is change. Your change brings you great capabilities. What are you complaining about?"
The knee that caught her midriff reminded her that combat against a worthy opponent did not allow for distractions. The double blow that made her head ring and put her squarely on her back in the middle of the ring reinforced the notion.
Ulrich`s eyes did not just seem to glow, they did and his voice touched deep frequencies normally unavailable to humans.
"I am losing my humanity wisecrack."
Ulrika`s legs scissored through his, bringing the German to the floor on his back. Before he could recover he stared into eyes that were as inhuman as his own and watched dripping fangs centimeters from his throat.
"Humanity is overrated. Aren`t you Germans the ones who teach that it does not matter whether you have white skin or black, if you like the girls or you prefer the pretty boys."
"This is different."
"Really? Did you kill any children that annoyed you these days? Raped a pretty girl that tickled your fancy or gave bad advice to you superiors so we could have more war?
"No, but.."
"No buts Ulrich. What you are is not important. What you think is not important. What you do is important. And from where I stand you do pretty well. Speaking about pretty..."
The claws that penetrated her boxing gloves where as sharp and any knife and they parted the armor above the Germans chest like wet tissue paper. When Ulrika lowered her fanged mouth it was not to bite.
In the end it was Ulrich who carried Ulrika to the pile of mats at one wall and dropped besides her exhausted body. He awoke an hour later when he felt a tongue lick across his chest.
The vampire licked up the blood from a scratch he had received during the fight or the following lovemaking which had been at least as energetic even if slightly less violent.
He idly watched his lower arm where another scratch had scabbed over already. While he watched ice spread through his chest and breathing became hard. The scratch closed itself while he watched.
He grabbed a handful of red hair and ripped Ulrika`s head up.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing-and what is this? I swear if you made me..."
"Even if I wanted to I could not. You have a different patron Ulrich. You have just accepted yourself, that is all-and that is very much."
"Is it indeed"
Their right hands found themselves and gripped each other.
Their voices were as intertwined as their fingers
"What we are is not important."
"What we think is not important."
"What we do is important."
