Hello!
For some strange reason, the last update text was scrambled. As Wolf already wrote, we changed the "Altdorf" part to an earlier timeframe, but I changed the masterdoc with it as well, so it should not have happened at all. And when I looked into the masterdoc, everything is where it should be. Maybe it is because our masterdoc is well above 1500 DIN A4 pages, the program might produce hiccups under certain circumstances. But whatever the reason, I post an early update for you, correcting it and start where the last one began. Have fun!
Close to Weijin
No longer did bonds and fetters keep Areta on her bed, gravity and a total lack of motivation did a far better job. The air that she breathed had lost its sparkle, the food she ate was either burning her palate, was so dull that she barely remembered it, had a texture that was revolting or simply made her vomit. The things around her looked dull, felt dull and none of them held her interest. She was ashamed of her state when her friends visited her and could barely muster the strength to thank them properly. She knew she had to get up and going soon, her absence could not be covered anymore and to her horror she found that she no longer cared. She had lain on her bed ever since breakfast and nobody had bothered to bring her something to lunch. She was hungry and did not have the strength to get up and do something about it.
She had not felt much but sorry for herself during the last hours but now something else caught her attention. She had drunken more than a little tea during the last hours and now that had to go somewhere. It was dead easy, she did not even have to get up for real, there was a chamber pot close by. She would have to push herself up, walk two meters, hunker down and conduct business before getting back to bed.
She tried to gain the motivation for that since noon at the very least. She tried to imagine herself getting up, anticipated the pains in her back and tights and never moved a muscle. The mounting pressure made her uneasy and she tried the trick that she had used on many a long watch, fantasy about something hot and steamy. That usually relieved some of the pressure and she started to cry when she found she did not even care enough about some of her nicest memories to get excited about them. By now things were coming to a burst and she imagined how she would be found in her own filth. It was disgusting and degrading, it would surely eliminate even the last shreds of respect her friends had for her. Breda`s face appeared in her vision and the way she berated recruits that could not perform to her standards. And that was when she found her legs moving by themselves, found herself scrambling of her bed and towards the pot that held salvation.
When she cleaned herself up she smelled herself, shuddered and dropped all her clothes into the hamper. Even the cold water in the jug could not prevent her from using it, what soap remained and the sponge. She was back in bed a few minutes after that but the sleep that got hold of her was more relaxed than any she had in the weeks before.
Neustadt, Naggaroth
The hall was made of too-fresh wood like most Neustadt buildings these days. When the wind came from the wrong direction the banners that hung behind Thorsten Breitkop moved and a chill went through the assembly. It did not register with any of the participants as they had more important things on their mind. Thorsten Breitkopf was addressing a few hundred Humans and Dawi, Anja was watching him proudly and the slaves would hear about the rest of their lives so a bout of cold air had no chance to gather anyone`s attention.
"Welcome to the Neustadt Small Arms Factory. I know that none of you asked to be here or at least in Naggaroth but this is neither here nor there. We do not have chains in the NASF and we do not have locked doors but for a few. We do not use whips and we do not kill. If you want to go, go outside of the gates and nobody will keep you from doing so. Just remember that outside are the Druchii and you all know how they will treat you.
How we will treat you depends on two things: how hard you work and how much you are willing to learn. Most of you will work at the assembly lines and you will earn credits for the work you do. With credits you can buy nicer food, better quarters, better clothes and time off. The more you work the more credits you ear. If you learn then you will receive a workplace that needs trained craftsmen, you will earn more credits, in some cases much more. Remember that most credits are earned in your work unit so do not let your co-workers down. When you leave this room you will be given a set of clothing and you`ll be assigned your berths. You will receive three meals a day according to the needs of your race and job. If you do not like your food or the berths earn more credits.
Starting tomorrow you will be tested for your abilities and we will assign your training accordingly. The training we assign to you will be on the days off. If you think you are better than your test results you can study after work, that road is always open. Show us you can hack it and you will get a better job.
You see the guys with the red shirts on the wall? These are the guards. They are of us and they will see that you keep the line. Respect them, because if they cannot do the job the Druchii will come in here and do it for them. I do not have to tell you that this is not a desirable outcome for anybody so we should avoid that.
Some of you may have heard that some Germans who work here are worse than any Druchii. I will not comment on that but for one thing: Anybody who works in here belongs to me and me only. And anybody who touches somebody who works for me answers to me. So as long as you work for me you are fine. Any questions?"
South Sea
62000 horsepower, the ability to throw five tons of steel and explosive up to 30 kilometers away per minute, 28 knots, it was all very impressive to Ingam Grundisson. But the thing that had taken his breath away as he had not anticipated it in any way had been the air condition. He was one of Barak Varr`s most experienced captains, having commanded a monitor and a dreadnaught for more years than most humans were alive. The weather in the South Sea could be very nice when the season was right and he heard some humans enjoyed simply soaking up the sun on the beach which just proved they were addled. But when the summer was on, when the winds blew the dry hot air of the Araby deserts over the sea it became incredibly hot. When one was working a dreadnaughts engine rooms or manned a turret the temperatures could lay a Dawi low if care was not taken. It was one of the things that dwarves found harder to tolerate than humans which was hardly surprising given their normal habitat and the bane of Dawi sailors. Ingam had heard what Barak Varr had to pay to air condition most rooms on the battleship and even the most closefisted Dawi sailor would think every Mark well spend. Well-rested sailors worked better, captains without sweat in their eyes saw better.
Currently Varrjag ploughed the sea at a bit below 20 knots, faster than any Dawi ship ever and using less than half the available power it had. Look-outs watched the sea through high-powered binoculars, radar antennas rotated and the sonar blasted the sea with medium-frequency soundwaves. They all detected a whole lot of nothing but empty sea and that was a bad thing indeed. Normally the waters south of Sarasota should have several ships that carried the trade between Araby, the Border Kingdoms, Bretonia, Tile and Estelia. There were none and that had made Kind Grundisson send Captain Grundisson on a wild goose chase.
So while there was a lot of sunshine, while there was a millpond sea and while neither lookouts nor new-fangled sensors would show anything that could be regarded as a threat Ingam was tense. His bridge crew tiptoed around him as he was about to bite a face off soon.
"Captain, I have a reading on the magic indicator at 231 degrees."
"Anything more than a reading sensors?"
"No Sir, just that."
"Hagar, anything to see, anything on this radar?"
"No Sir, nothing."
"Sir may I offer a suggestion?"
There was one person on the bridge who did not walk on eggshells. Peter Rademacher was one of the few German advisors still on the ship and did not care one bit about the captain`s mood.
"Yes manling."
"If the contact is not visible he will likely be underwater. If we slow down below 12 knots our sonar will become much more effective and should allow us to detect something."
"Noted manling. Helm, turns for 10 knots."
The vibrations that came through the feet subsided and changed frequency, the diesel`s thrumming quieted appreciably and the ship slowed down.
"Sir, we have a large contact at 233 degrees."
"Sensors-what kind of contact?"
"We do not know Sir. It is not moving, it hovers at 65 meters and it is huge."
"What do you mean by huge?"
"More than 60 meters Sir."
"Critter or wreck?"
"Sir give us a minute. We need to switch off the active sonar for a moment."
"Make it so."
A few terse minutes later.
"Sir, we have no sounds that say critter, but it may be too large for a wreck."
"Herr Rademacher, any ideas?"
"If you take us a little closer we could use the mine detector sonar. It has better resolution."
"We`ll try that. Helm, course 233, turns for 10 knots."
"Course 233 10 knots aye."
Varrjay turned slightly and both dawi and human bent over a screen that depicted the scans done by a short-range, high-resolution ultrasonic sonar.
"Sir, I do not believe this is a floating wreck."
"Why not Herr Rademacher."
"Because parts of it move."
"Aha. Anything else?"
"Yes, its really big. Parts of it were masked by ground clutter for the long-range sonar."
"So it is big and does nothing right manling?"
"Sums it up in one Sir."
"Then let`s do something about it. Helm, turn for 20 knots, course 233. Guns, I want a spread of water bombs on top of whatever is down there."
The great ship accelerated again, following a course that took it right over whatever was in the water. King Grundisson had spent major money on the "Panzerschiff" and he would not have his price defenceless against one of the most insidious dangers that lurked in the Warhammer Seas. Unwilling to pay for the rocket launchers on "Altdorf" Blohm and Voss had installed something they called "multipurpose rails" which could hold mines or water bombs. At both sides of the ship rating pulled the safeties of something that seemed like a pedestal for more water bombs. When the ship crossed the point where sonar had pinpointed the contact fat bombs rolled off the rails while the "pedestals" suddenly threw the water bombs in arcs of nearly a hundred meters.
"Varrjag was now speeding from the doom she had sown herself. 15 Seconds after the last weapon had vanished under the surface huge waterspouts rose from the sea, reaching higher than Varrjag`s mast.
And then nothing happened.
"Sensors, what is up?"
"Sir we have no clear picture."
"Why is that manling, is your gear already broken?"
"No Sir, this is why we suggested that you buy the rocket launchers. The waterbombs have churned the water so much that there are too many false targets. We lost the contact when we drove over it and now we have to reacquire. This will take 5 minutes or so."
"Noted manling. Helm, new course 000, we`ll circle this till things are clearer."
"Sir, look."
"Geras, how are you to report….Grimnir`s beared."
Close to the point where the waterspouts had been churning something rose from the water, something huge. Its exact shape was hard to discern as a virtual waterfall dropped to the sea, but it was bulky, with a crocodile`s snout done to the size of a galley and horns that reached above the already high head. Horns that started to glow while and unending scream made everybody freeze for a few seconds.
"Guns, target is..is that thing. Remove it from my sight."
Whatever had risen from the sea was it made for a decent radar target. The computers of Varrjag new the range within a second and rejected the value for being too short till a human hand slapped the override to get the fire control computer working. Ten seconds after the command indicators moved in the triple turrets, indicating where they were to turn. Coarse hands pressed buttons that allowed the turret to assume the rotation but the barrels did not rise. Not from any mistake but as the range was so short. Two groups of three lights showed "guns" that he was ready to and a press of a button gave the computer the permission to fire if everything was aligned. The computer decided that this was a quarter of second later and six shots rang out. The huge muzzle blasts flattened the water besides the warship.
The shots went out the very second several balls of lightning ripped free of beast`s horns and lazily arced over the water. They were still underway when 4 100-kilogram shells hit their target. Two of them hit tentacles and found nothing solid enough to trigger their fuses, one glanced along the long snout, digging a deep and bloody furrow before flying on and the last hit one of the horns. The fuse in the shell`s base blew the charge of some 10 kilogram of explosives, sending a shockwave and 80 kilogram worth of fragments into the head that had held the horn.
While the beast started its descend into the water the ball lightning impacted on Varrjag. The balls ruptured when they hit the ship and lightning arced from there. Many meters of the fine wood that covered the ship`s deck flared and turned to charcoal in short order. Fast moving electrons inscribed black marks into the armour of the forward turret and two lookouts where incinerated. A secondary turret stopped moving until the crew rebooted its electronics and many square meters of lovingly applied enamel paint were discoloured and blistered.
Ten seconds later a second salvo raced from the "Panzerschiff" and colored the waters in shades of red. Two more runs with waterbombs made very sure that whatever had risen from the waters would stay down this time.
Arlanda airport Stockholm, Sweden, Earth
Carl Bildt, now one of Sweden´s longest-serving foreign ministers, couldn´t be seen directly in the mass of people in Arlanda´s main hall. Blue-Yellow flags were waved, people laid in each other's arms...
It was a great day for Sweden. When the "Världhoppet", Sweden had loaned Germany´s designation for the event, happened, the town of Skopstorp on Sweden´s west coast was transported to the Liaoning province in the People´s Republic of China. Skogstorp had been exchanged with the Cathayian city of Shenlong from the Warhammer world.
A serious political crisis between Sweden and the Peoples Republic of China about the fate of the transported people brewed. Since Shenlong was seen as quasi-Chinese territory by Beijing, they wanted control. In addition, China had roughly two and a half thousand Swedes from Skogstorp as additional pressure.
Not helping the situation were the Cathayians in Sweden, if with understandable reasons. Shenlong had lived for all of it´s existence under the "heavenly mandate" of the Cathayian Emperor. For a proper Cathayian, a Peoples Republic was nothing more than heresy. Shenlong wanted asylum in Sweden and got it, but the crisis was not over. With Earth in disarray after the event, massively hit by the damages incurred, Germany and some other parts of Earth missing, the cards of which nation was standing where on power level were given anew.
Neither Sweden nor China could stand down. And Sweden had the weaker stats. It was many times smaller in size and population, With Germany missing the EU had weakened, so there was less backing for Stockholm. Worse, Germany had been a friend who could make herself heard in Beijing, mediating.
Still, not all was bad for Sweden. While the Cathayians could definitely be designated as a variant of Chinese and understandable why Beijing thought of them as under their purview, they still where a different thing and far away from mainland China. Considering that even years after the Weltensprung infrastructure and transportation on the northern hemisphere were still a shadow of the time before, how would China rule and contact Shenlong without it being a total money drain? And a PRC base in Europe, it was doubtful, if Moscow, Washingon or London would accept that. There were further points why neither Stockholm nor Beijing could be satisfied with the situation. too much political prestige already stood on the line.
It was Bildt, who convinced Shenlong to send a delegation to China. And Beijing recognised the ball Bildt had knowingly sent them. Shenlong´s delegation got a very nice treatment in China, even if it was not that difficult to impress the Cathayians.
The Swedes knew that acclimatising would be doubly difficult for the newcomers on Earth. Not only was Shenlong centuries back in technological development, except magic, but both climate and culture in Sweden were very different for people coming straight from a Ming-era analogue and southern Cathay, which if estimated correctly was a rather warm place.
Having a similar culture around, would surely help the Cathayians greatly in settling down.
And they were right. After coming back to Shenlong, the delegation reported on the state of being in China. While there were still reservations, their way of life was too ingrained not to have some, most citizens of Shenlong decided to move to China. About 14, 000 decided to stay in Sweden and keep the old Shenlong alive. That was a solution both sides could live with.
The problem solved, the Swedes stranded in China were transported back to Stockholm for the big welcome party first in Arlanda later on in Stockholm proper. Even for Carl Bildt that night would be a long and happy one.
Close to Wejin
Areta Bane returned to her quarters early. A meeting scheduled for today about the Wild Geese`s latest acquisition had not happened as the maker`s representative had simply not shown up. There had been some speculation about that but it was obvious that nothing would happen at all. There had been some invitations to spend the evening but Areata had declined them all. Even after this short workday she was badly exhausted and tired, about the same as yesterday, the day before and every day since she had recovered enough to resume her duties. Even simple things like getting up and getting dressed were ordeals that had to be endured for the sake of her friends and comrades. The thing was there were so few rewards. Food tasted like ashes to her, the banter she shared with her comrades seemed shallow and boring, there was simply no goal worth pursuing.
When she entered her quarters she was immediately taken aback as her clothes were still not pressed and the leftovers from today`s breakfast still where she had left them in the morning. Had her good-for-nothing housekeeper left without notice like the one two weeks before? Something rustled in her bedroom and she drew her dagger before pushing the door open ever so silently. Her housekeeper froze on the spot the moment she saw her, her mouth open in wordless surprise. She had good reason to do so as she had removed most of her clothes, opened the bag that held Areta`s toy collection and had nearly closed the collar around her neck. Areta was about to scream at her for the insolence but a second look stopped that in her throat. The housekeeper`s clothes had so far hidden a very nice figure from view and now it was on glorious display. The few areas still covered promised even more delectable discoveries and apart from holding the still-open collar the Cathayan made no move to hide them.
Areta felt things she thought forgotten and pushed the wayward Ayi on her knees, closing what fetters were already on the limbs as she did.
Areta did such things to her housekeeper. She made her cry, she made her squirm, made her cry for various reasons and she made her many other things.
At the end of a very long time she went into a deep dreamless sleep and when she awoke she had something on her face not seen in a long time, a smile. And despite some welts on her shapely back that smile was mirrored on her housekeeper`s face.
Breda Ironridge saw the spring in Areta`s face when she walked to the meeting the next day and turned towards her friends. They all touched their daggers` handles in a very Druchii way. This had been expensive and difficult to arrange but totally worth it. That all of them had changed as much as possible from what it meant to be Druchii did not occur to any of them. And they could not have cared less if they would have realized. It was probably a good thing that none of them knew they were the future of their race.
Bretonia, houseboat close to Soreil
A pale sun shone on a sea that rose and fell gently. The "Cabane" would have handled worse and had in the past but for something that tried to find a compromise between house and boat the lower the sea state the better. A small diesel puttered away quietly and drove the boat through the seas to a goal that finally came closer with every minute. It`s lonesome skipper did watch neither compass nor map but steered his craft unerringly through the waves.
Pierre Laval had been a very frustrated Frenchman during the last years. He was no longer. He had seen a world where a technologically advanced Germany had allied itself with a proto-German Empire into an alliance that would dominate this world for many years to come. He no longer cared.
He had moved to Bretonia a few years after the Weltensprung as had some other French nationals that had been taken with Germany. He had not wanted to carve his own kingdom, he had not wanted to fulfil some loathsome fantasy he had just tried to aid that nation that was so obviously "La Belle France" if it just found the will to be itself. He had been welcome for his knowledge and his willingness to help. He had been asked many questions which he had answered to the best of his abilities. He had presented his plans and had asked the movers and shakers of Bretonia about their needs.
That was when the problems started, the problems he could now forget. He had been asked if he could give Bretonia the means to face Germany on an equal footing. If that was not possible whether he could allow the Knights to face the likes of Tilean city states and Nanseitoshi who had hurt their lands and pride.
"Pas de souci". He was no fugitive and Germany would sell him and his associates basic machinery tools. He could make some very nice rifles if King Leoncour would just foot the bill and supply the workers.
"Grande Probleme" Knights would not lower themselves to the point where they would use a rifle or any other weapon that would kill at a distance.
So he had suggested to give the rifles to the yeomen, the trusted commoners. This was when things had gotten a bit dicey as he had suggested giving weapons to commoners which could kill knights without any problem. No, no if he were so nice to make the knight`s armour proof against rifle fire all would be fine. He calculated the weight of a steel armour for man and horse at about 500 kilogram of he could use good chrome-vanadium steel with decent heat treatment which was not exactly a given. That was not going to work but he was no longer interested.
He had suggested simple improvements in hygiene to combat child mortality which was simply appaling. The Lady`s servants had asked him if he thought that he thought they were not blessed by the Lady. He knew children and young mothers were dying because of ignorance and had to work on feeling empathy when he thought about it presently.
He had not been able to make anybody see why they should dig wells when there were perfectly serviceable streams, and only very few people had heard him out on crop rotation. His illicit cuttings from German wine yards had been enthusiastically received and the hollow steel lances with tungsten carbide tips he has made were bought at high prices. He used to cry at such stupidity but found no more tears inside him.
Instead he had taken his boat and had followed...what did he follow anyway? It was a picture, a mirage, a promise, a path to salvation, a phantom but not of his imagination. Like a lodestone it had drawn him forward, ever forward without any knowledge what would await him at the end of his path and yet he knew it would be glorious.
It was in the late hours of the day that he reached Soreil`s harbour. To his amazement there were many boats of all description here, including two modern ones. He thought he would recognize one as belonging to another Frenchman he knew but the other one was bigger and an unknown.
The quai was alight with torches and lanters. Busy hands pulled his boat to the quay and secured it there. There was a well-lit path that he followed together with others. He had seen none of them before, they wore the armour of knights, the threadbare clothes of serfs or the artisians garb. Some had modern outdoor clothing and none noticed each other except to give way. They all saw the mirage more clearly then ever before during the last weeks. They were close, so very close.
He stumbled when somebody walked into him. When he turned he found himself staring at the chest of a man half a head taller than himself that looked at him. He was clad in modern clothes and wore an assault rifle on his back.
Behind that man was a small group of people who wore a mixture of Breton and German garb and were very varied lot even by today`s standards.
"Sorry guy I did not see."
"What my friend Andy wanted to say before the cat stole his tongue was "excusez moi". He meat no sleight."
"And none perceived my friend. Let`s hustle now."
And that they did, walking out of the town, through the fields that surrounded it and into the dark forest before them. They walked the path through a darkness only enhenced by their lights till all arrived at a huge glade that surrounded a small lake. The glade was of unearthly beauty and none of those who walked into it had any eyes for it.
They all watched the woman that stood at the water`s edge and the knight who was at her side. Both seemed larger than life and both glowed from with a light that was hard to describe. The woman held something in her hands that made Pierre`s jaw drop and caught his breath. The drinking vessel in her hands was seemingly simple, an unadorned piece of clay and at the same time it was just perfect. The former Frenchman could hardly take his eyes from it and neither could anybody else.
"Bienvenue mes amis" The woman did not shout, his not raise her voice and still every soul in the glade heard her. She addressed nobody and everybody was sure he or she was especially welcome here.
"I am Morgana, also known as the Lady of the Lake, the real one. This is the Green Knight, known as Giles de Breton in times long past. We have seen our beloved nation keep its traditions, we have seen them used by men who should be heroes and were scoundrels. We have seen the threats to Bretonia and have seen its leaders answer to the new threats in the old ways. We have founded a society where the commoner supports the knight and the noble protects them. Now we see predators that fleece their prey. We have asked for chivalry and honor, we see glory hounds, greed and avarice.
"We have always searched for knowledge and wisdom, for empathy and patience, we find ignorance, wasting of life and callousness. This is not the Bretonia that has the Lady`s favour and these are not the knights that the Green Knight tests and Giles de Breton wants to lead.
Tonight we will start to change all that. Tonight we will start to take our beloved country back, tonight we will start to heal the wounds and right the wrongs. We cannot do this alone, we need a new fellowship to do what must be done. This will not be easy, not cheap in lives, means and efforts. It must be done by those of good will. Are you of good will?"
"Oui"
Will you drink from the grail then, take the vow and not rest till Bretonia is hale again?
"Oui."
"Then come to me my children and receive my blessing."
And so they drank from the grail that was never refilled and that never ran out of whatever it dispensed.
Knights drank, serfs drank, commoners drank and so did a lone Englishman. All were touched by the Lady, even if not all in the same way. It was a glorious day and it would lead to an even more glorious blood-letting.
Greifwald
The project to build an experimental stellarator had been stopped after the Weltensprung. The way the economy was during the first years had made such a pure science project untenable for years.
Then Nathan Alpers brought his future namesake, the AI that wanted to be called Nathan from orbit. Then the Reiksbund Paladins captured the Citadel of Lead and Nathan resurrected the AI Hypathia.
These days the project was called Wendelstein Z and no matter how today would go it would be the last of the series of projects that had led to this day. Both AI had suggested a total of 4522 changes, small and big to the reactor. Five parts were so far from anything Germany could make by itself presently that the nanites in the Citadel.
Two days ago the coolant had been introduced into the supra-cooled magnets until they were barely 3 degree above absolute zero. Lots of power was pushed into them until they produced an incredibly complex magnetic field measured in Tesla. Half an hour ago fuel had been injected and was now being heated by micorwaves.
Everything was working as it should but since about five minutes knuckles were getting whiter and voices louder. Things were not happening and that was very very bad. The project director was about to call things off when the lines on the monitors started to move. The increasing rumble of the coolant pumps almost drowned out the cheers of a very relieved crew.
Germany had just ignited its first fusion reactor. They managed to hold the fusion for 29 minutes before they had to switch things off. During this timme they had burned through 30% of all He3 available in Germany at that time. DLR would plan a mission for two Nathans on the same day.
Altdorf
Balthasar Gelt still had to get used to the new way of doing things, hardly surprising given that the Weltensprung had occurred barely ten years before. Great wealth had meant property, jewels and precious metals, monopolies and coins.
Now it was a small piece of paper with numbers on it. And that was not even the wealth itself, it was just a "account statement." Yet unassuming as the paper was the numbers on it were not. Actually he had no name for the number before the Germans came and this number had just risen considerably.
Yet that was at it should be, he had personally saved the German space program from disaster. When their first reusable spacecraft, the Zwilling worked so well they had decided that they could build bigger, much bigger indeed. Balthasar was no engineer but even he could have told them that upscaling brought problems, big ones.
And so the plug nozzle, the centrepiece of the "Phoibos" spacecraft that served both as its engine to lift it into space and as a heatshield to protect its descent from the heavens failed. Cooled by liquid hydrogen from one side and heated by terrible temperatures from the other the engine blocks had broken apart during testing time after time. DLR had been pretty frantic by the time they consulted him, their budget would not allow for failure.
He had been intrigued, he was promised great wealth and he wanted to pay back what he owned these Germans. They had given a precious gift to the Gold Order, one of knowledge and lore. They might not have known the slightest bit about magic when they started the exchange of knowledge but they had provided such insights. Now he could name what he saw when he plied his craft, now he could calculate and plan when he had just prayed before.
He had changed the crystal bonds inside the engine alloys until they were a huge single crystal, far stronger than before. Six months before the engines he had worked on withstood every test that DLR threw at them. Three days before "Phoibus" had risen to orbit on a tower of blue-white flame, pushing a payload of 150 tons to orbit, a fraction of its full load.
Yesterday it had landed again at Neuschwabenland spaceport and up from several fuel tanks it had dropped in orbit it needed a wash, the checks and refuelling before it could repeat the feat.
If the readers wonder about the strange names of the spacecrafts I wrote into the German space program, they are a shout-out at the great US space program I read so much about at a much younger age.
Merkur is Mercury, the first US manned spacecraft.
Zwilling is Twins in english-Gemini the second spacecraft.
Phoibos is one of the names given to the god Apollo and that should need no explanation.
Article in "1000 Getränke" (Beer Blog)
"Kochbock" is one of the more agreeable beers that come from the Empire in the recent years. Made in the "Baronial Brewery", a thoroughly modernized brewery in Nuln it is named for the master brewer who created it. Markus Koch was hired by Countess Valaya to introduce modern brewery to Nuln and made the brewery a going concern.
The beer is the crowning achievement of his efforts and has found a strong following, especially with Reiksbund forces.
Roughly pouring it will laed to a thick airy head, thinning to small rocky beige head. Color is cola, lots of lacing on the glass. Aroma is nutty, caramel, malt. Soft, slick mouth feel. Taste is smooth and mildly sweet, dark bread, caramel, very mild bitterness. Don't be fooled by the drinkablity, this has a fairly high ABV%.
Close to Weijin
Yerena looked slightly melancholic when she looked at Hartmut Klawitter over the rim of her well-filled wine glass.
"We had some good times you and I"
"That we had Yerena. Don`t need to be over, really. It is not that I leave the Geese or drop dead tomorrow, really."
"Yea, yea. But the sky will not be the same with you in my back."
"Nope, my replacement will puke more, that is for sure. And will look much better when you show her the ropes. And the whips and chains of course."
"And she will be a lesser shot and she will take less. And I`ll never respect her enough to take such stupid bets."
"Oh come on, you don`t have to."
"Betting debts are honor debts. And I happen to feel like it, really now."
"I`ll be just too happy, your back is far too smooth as it is."
"Not much longer I`ll wager."
"Won`t take that bet for sure, would be a losing preposition."
"But really, who would have thought it. Hartmut Klawitter, pilot. Well not dragon rider, but a real live pilot of a what-Pursuit Special?"
"Yep, dawi-designed and made. Lots of wood around 400 horsepower and a heavy machine gun. Qualified pilot in the Geese`s first and only air group."
"Quite a jump up from an observer."
"Not so unusual. My former people had a pilot who started like that."
"Really now?"
"Oh yes, they called him the Red Baron. I`ll tell you of him when you have finished that glass and we collected those debts of yours."
