One Germany, One Vision


The flight to Munich proceeded without further incident, and they arrived at some point in the night. Hans could see lights on through the vertibird's viewports, and he stood to get a better look as the aircraft slowly descended. Paul had his hand on the back of the co-pilot's chair, watching the instruments, and looked back at Hans. "Great things are happening here, my friend. You should all feel so lucky to be a part of the work the Order is doing."

With a firm shudder the vertibird touched down on the ground and the pilots began to shut the vehicle down, the pitch of the engines deepening as the rotors slowed. The rest of the team unbuckled and stood from their seats, stretching their limbs and gathering their equipment. Paul and the pilots popped the bird's side doors and they all began to file out.

Hans didn't have much in the way of expectations, but what he saw when he stepped out of the vertibird and onto the courtyard they'd landed in left him feeling awestruck. The courtyard was a series of grass plots broken up by cobblestone walkways all leading to a domed gazebo or temple in the center, a vertibird parked on each of the plots. To the south, clearly visible behind the veil of the dead trees surrounding the courtyard, was a magnificent palace, damaged and faded but still standing. Lights inside and searchlights outside cast their glow all across the building, giving the place a whimsical if somewhat military look.

"Amazing. The Munich Residence. Never thought I'd get the chance to see her," Walter said, and Hans looked at him. "It's incredible she's still standing, much less habitable."

"Oh she's quite habitable, I assure you" Paul said. "Now, if you'll all follow me, we'll leave the Hofgarten and proceed inside. I have to present my report to the Kommandant, and then we'll see about finding some work. With Projekt Natursturm picking up steam I'm sure the Commander will have new orders for me, and something that suits you lot."

The five of them proceeded across the busy Hofgarten and up to the main doors of the beautiful Munich Residenz, a pair of guards standing beside the doors. They let the team in without objection and once inside Hans had to admit the interior was even more impressive than the exterior. Tall, arched ceilings with the remnants of ornate artwork painted and engraved strewn across the magnificent façade.

Hans was looking up at the ceiling when he felt something brush against his left arm, and he looked to see it was Hilda standing next to him. She too was marveling at the grandeur of the palace, her attention directed to the left of the entrance hall. Her shoulder and the back of her hand was pressing against Hans' own arm, and he had to wonder just why she was so close. "Such a beautiful building..."

Hans nodded, and turned his attention back to Paul, who was talking with a guard. Their Final Order babysitter turned around to look at them and gestured at them to follow. "Come along, there'll be time enough for sightseeing later" he said, and the team got moving again. They followed Paul into a corridor, as ornate as the main hall, and proceeded through the long corridor, stepping past Final Order soldiers and officials as they ran about. The halls were busy with activity, with people going every which way.

After a few minutes of making their way through the halls the team reached an arched threshold, a hand-painted standing sign declaring it to be the Konigsbau, and passed through. From there they proceeded upstairs to the second floor and through another series of winding halls to a door labelled 'Das Büro des Kommandanten Wolfgang.' Paul knocked on the door.

A few moments later a woman opened up, dressed in grey and only slightly tattered slacks. She nodded at Paul and he stepped past her and into the room, and she nodded at Hans. "You, too."

Hans did as asked and entered the room, and the woman closed it behind them. She briskly walked back to her desk, sat, and pressed an intercom's button. "Herr Wolfgang, Leutnant Paul March and a freelancer are here to see you" she said, and nodded at the double doors to the left of her desk. "Go on, you two."

Together Hans and Paul walked into the office, a large crescent-shaped desk in the corner, facing the door. Standing behind it, sorting through some papers, was a man easily in his sixties but built like a Panzer. He was bald but had a stern countenance and a thick mustache, colored like a pile of salt and pepper. He sat down, a sheet of paper in hand, and read it over before looking up at the two of them.

"Leutnant Paul March and the freelancer... Hans Eckhart, right, of course. I see" he said, and set the paper down. "Director Otto Jaeger sent word when your team left Hamburg. You did a fine job at the Hamburg airport, but it was just the first step. You'll learn more later, if you stick around. For now, tell me about what happened at Peenemunde."

Paul and Hans took a few minutes to recount everything that had happened. The Croakers, the stockpile of medical supplies and experiments in the basement, and the unknown people who'd shot at the vertibird as they flew to Munich. Kommandant Wolfgang took it all in a series of grunts and nods, and when they were finished he searched his cluttered and messy desk for another sheet of paper.

"Let me be the first to tell you that, despite how well everything is going for us here, this whole program is a complete shitshow," Wolfgang said. "Officially I'm in charge of managing the Order's military presence here in Munich, but everywhere I turn I've got scientists and engineers and doctors and party officials jockeying for my attention for all manner of bullshit, horseshit, and dumb shit. The Order was clearly very convinced that there'd be military tech at Peenemunde, what with it having been a missile facility once upon a time, but I'm not surprised it turned out to be false. Some clown somewhere read some old brochure and got a bright idea. Not that the Order has much of a use for V2 rockets, but I'd prefer them to hearing about some unhinged freak experimenting on people and feeding them to Croakers. I hope your friend is doing well."

Hans nodded. "A little rattled by the whole thing, but she's a tough woman."

"Good, glad to hear it. We'll all need to be in the weeks and months ahead of us. Like I was saying, Projekt Natursturm is a logistical nightmare. The machine's an energy hog, in addition to being as big as a car, and generates a nasty amount of heat, so I've got people reminding me everywhere I turn that our Fieldmen need to find more coolant, more tools, more parts, and worst of all the damned thing isn't even here! It's in fucking Berchtesgaden, so if my presence is required for some reason or another I've got to take a 30-minute flight there. If you think riding a vertibird's bad for you, try doing it at my age."

Commander Wolfgang sighed, rubbed his face, and leaned back in his chair. "Forgive me, the past few weeks have been rough. Chancellor Dietrich is here, due to give a speech sometime this morning, around sunrise. In addition to all of my usual responsibilities, I've got Projekt Natursturm related crap to contend with, as well as Dietrich's security concerns. The Order does have enemies, beyond just the abominations and pests like raiders, but that's a matter for another day. As of right now I have nothing for the two of you, so go busy yourselves with something else, but for God's fucking sake don't cause any trouble. Once his speech is concluded return here, Lieutenant March. I'll have orders for you then. You're dismissed."

Hans still had a few questions, but the finality of the Commander's statement meant he'd have to look elsewhere for answers. Him and Paul left Wolfgang's office and stepped back out into the busy halls of the Residenz, the rest of the team milling about as they waited for the two of them to return. Walter saw them first and stood from the bench he'd been sitting on, cinching the strap of his Madsen as he did so.

"Learn anything useful?" he asked, and Hans shook his head.

"Next time we're out in the field, I guess we're supposed to keep an eye out for industrial coolant" Hans said, and Walter gave him a look. "Alright, so, right now, we're the 'free' part of the word freelancer. We haven't been using up much of our medical supplies lately, thank God, so let's focus on replenishing our rations and ammo. Paul, know where the markets are?"

Paul nodded, and pointed down one end of the hall, to the right of the door to the Kommandant's office. "Diner and food market are down that way, in the Pfalzer Weinstube. They sell vintage wine there, though if you ask me that stuff's more valuable unopened. It is very delicious, though. The 1938 Latour is as good as it gets, supposedly looted from the cellar of a castle in the mountains. Castle Wolfen-something" He turned the other way and gestured down the other end of the hall. "The general market and arms dealer is in the Hofkirche, through the Antiquarium. You can't miss it."

"OK. I need a new rifle, so I'll head there" Hans said, and noticed the look Walter was giving him. "Hilda, I imagine that you burned through quite a bit of ammo at Peenemunde. Let's say you and I head there together, and Walter and Klara can stock us up on food. No wine, thank you. We don't need to waste our money on what this connoisseur deems 'good wine.'"

Paul grinned. "He may not have said it, but Kommandant Wolfgang definitely wants me to prepare for Dietrich's visit, so as much as I'd love to visit the wine bar I'm afraid I have actual responsibilities. If I get orders to embark on any trips I think I'd like company for I'll send for the four of you. Until then, enjoy the Residenz."

With that the group split up, Hans and Hilda heading back the way they'd came. From what Hans could see the hall leading to the Kommandant's office used to have paintings displayed in it, hundreds of them, judging from the spaces on the walls. To the left as they went were a series of windows looking out on one of the palace's many courtyards. Even after two decades of decay and neglect the place managed to exude an air of extravagance and grandeur.

The hall ended and split, the intersection labeled with standing signs. To the right was the Antiquarium, and even Hans was impressed. It was like being in a tunnel, the ceiling high and arched, art and scrollwork painted across every single surface. The walls, if one could call them that, were comprised of plinths and hearths home to, at one point, countless sculptures and statues. Almost all of them were gone, looted over the years, but still the splendor remained.

Hans looked at Hilda, who was busy staring up at the ceiling. Everywhere she looked, it was as if she was a kid in a candy store, her eyes filled with wonder and amazement. Dozens of other people past them as they went, each of them oblivious to the beauty of the hall. The two of them reached the end, a short set of stairs leading up into a small room. A nexus, where many smaller and less ornate halls met. Again each was labeled by standing signs, and the two of them proceeded down the hall that led to the Hofkirche.

They stopped just outside the doors to the church, allowing a pair of officers to pass them by. Hilda looked up and down the mostly vacant room outside the Hofkirche's doors, taking in its more simpler décor. "I didn't think places like this were real. Growing up, my..." she stopped, licked her lips. "My owner had picture books, with fantasy castles and really well-decorated mansions, but I thought they were all fake. She'd let me look at them, if I did the chores quick enough..."

"Your...owner?" Hans asked, and Hilda nodded. She sat down in a chair by the door, elbows on her knees and hands on her chin, looking glum. Hans sat next to her, his hands folded in his lap. "You never told... Do you want to talk about it?"

Hilda seemed to think about it a moment. "I guess. She didn't really abuse me, she kinda never paid that much attention to me really. We rarely spoke, about anything. I did her gardening, her cleaning, and her cooking. If I did good, she'd say 'good girl' and let me look at the picture books, play with toys, that sort of thing. If I did bad then she'd, you know, she'd..."

Hans scooted a little closer to her. "You don't have to tell me any of this if you don't want to" Hans said, and placed a hand on Hilda's knee. She looked, first at his hand, then at him, her eyes a little wide. Hans quickly drew his hand back, concerned that he'd upset her. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's OK. I should talk about it, I've just never had anyone to talk to about it. Like I said, she didn't really abuse me, but if I did bad then she'd say 'bad girl' and...spank me." Hilda shook her head, clearly struggling. "That wasn't the bad part, though. It hurt, and it was humiliating, but it wasn't so bad. The bad part was when she'd just stand there once she was done, holding me in place, looking at my backside until she was...satisfied. She said it was to make sure I had no 'permanent injuries.' That was worse than the actual paddling, if you can believe it. That's the only way she ever touched me. She never held me or hugged me, never molested or raped me, but... Do you think she wanted to, but could never bring herself to do it, and that's why she would stare?"

Hans thought about it a moment, unsure of what to say. "I don't know. Maybe?"

Hilda nodded. "Not knowing is bad in its own way, I guess. Makes me afraid of everything she could have done, but didn't. One morning, around lunch time, she had a heart attack and died, right there on the porch. I must've been nineteen or twenty years old. We lived in a cottage in the woods, and when she died I was alone. I'd never been alone before that; it made me terrified. I stayed in her cottage for a year, doing everything I did every day. Gardening, cooking, cleaning. I worked every day as if she was still there, watching me. Every time I messed up, dropped something or broke something, I'd freeze, afraid I was about to feel her standing behind me, one hand on my shoulder to hold me in place while her other hand unbuttoned my pants..."

Hans stayed quiet, letting Hilda work her way through the painful memories. "Eventually I left, and I wandered. First town I came across took me in, let me see the doctor. I guess he kinda took pity on me, since he took me in and let me stay in his attic. He'd teach me medicine, and I'd make myself useful by carrying buckets, medical trays, tools, that kind of thing. Eventually the town was sacked by raiders, and I wandered again. I could see this huge city in the distance, and I decided I wanted to check it out. I remember just standing in the middle of a street, wide out in the open, staring up at the ruined buildings. I went up in one of those buildings, up to one of the highest floors, and looked out across the city. It made me sick," she said with a smile. "But from up there I could see a tower, shaped like a needle. Fernsehturm. You know the rest already."

"That's where you and I met" Hans said, and Hilda nodded. She went quiet again, the two of them just sitting next to each other in the room. The faint din of chatter, of merchants hawking their wares and people haggling over prices, could be heard in the Hofkirche. After a few minutes of silence Hilda sat up and crossed her legs.

"I don't know why I told you all that. We've known each other for over a year, but after you killed those freaks who tied me up at Peenemunde I... I don't know, felt like I could trust you more. Not that I didn't trust you before that, but... I don't know. Could you keep that between us, please?" Hilda said, and Hans nodded.

"Of course."

"Thanks. I just... I'm done wandering. I've found the place I want to be, and it's here. In the Final Order. What they're doing, Projekt Natursturm and all that, is going to change Germany. It's going to make things better, like how they were before The Bomb, and even before the wars from before The Bomb. Clean food, clean water, no more radiation, and no more mutants. If I can be a part of that, even in some small way, then I'll be there. Children won't have to grow up the way I did; they won't have to fear ghouls and Sturmutants and Rovers. They won't have to carry Rad-X and boil their water. The Order will restore Germany to the way it was meant to be. The way we deserve it to be" Hilda said firmly.

Hans had been wondering what he'd say to Hilda ever since they'd left Hamburg, ever since Walter had talked with him outside Peenemunde, and now he knew. He knew what Walter wanted him to say, but he also knew how he felt. "When we were at the Flughafen, and you executed those ghouls without a moment's hesitation, I was shocked. Here was this girl, with her medical bags, who'd only ever shot at those shooting back at us, standing over four corpses, gun in hand. It changed my perception of you, made me wonder what associating with the Final Order was going to do to our group" he said.

"I knew I had to talk with you about it, but I wasn't sure what to say. Now I am. If being in the Final Order gives your life meaning, purpose, and fills you with zeal and determination to change Germany for the better, then I'll be right by your side all the way to the end. I don't hate ghouls and mutants the same way you do, but there is no doubt that their existence represents everything wrong with Germany today. If eradicating every last one of them will improve our lives, and return Germany to her former glory, then all you need to do is ask me to pass you some ammunition."

Hilda smiled, then grinned. She and Hans stood, and she hugged him. She looked him in the eyes, her hands on his shoulders, and nodded. "Speaking of ammo, let's go get you a new gun, hmm?"

Hans nodded. "You haven't seen me use the Mars Automatic yet. I wasn't kidding when I said that thing is basically a rifle anyway, but you're right. Let's go see what the arms dealers have" he said, and the two of them pushed the doors to the Hofkirche open. The faint din erupted into a proper chatter as they stepped into the once-grand church, the pews long gone and replaced with market stalls and cabinets and footlockers, all stocked to the brims with wares. It reminded Hans of the market stalls in the U-Bahn stations, what felt like a lifetime ago now. Furniture, miscellaneous junk (who would buy junk?), outerwear, underwear, dinnerware, armor, clothes, and guns.

The arms dealer was at the back of the Hofkirche, where the lectern used to be. The area was built up with walls and locked doors to keep the guns secure, and the dealer stood by the counter, filling magazines with ammunition. Hilda wandered off to look at the other things being sold in the market and Hans made his way across and up to the arms dealer, an old gentleman, his hair white and combed back. "Hey traveler, looking for a gun, or ammo? A gun, from the looks of it."

Hans nodded. "Got any .45 Mars Long?" he asked, and the dealer looked at him.

"Forty-five Mars? Shit, let me see" he said, and Hans pulled out one of his spare magazines for the Mars Automatic. The dealer stared at it a moment before he looked down behind his counter. He crouched and rummaged around under the counter before he stood, a box in hand. "Here's some. Only box I have. I can't say I sell a whole lot of this stuff, s'not exactly in high demand, ya know? Tell you what, if you buy a gun I'll throw the Mars ammo in for free."

"Alright. What have you got in 8mm Mauser?" Hans asked, and the dealer gestured to the racks behind him.

"Everything. Gewehr 88s, Gewehr 98s, K98s, Gewehr 41s, 43s, a couple M1916 Self-Loaders. That's a good gun, those Self-Loaders."

Hans shook his head. "Mmm, I disagree. I had one once. Accurate as Hell, but unreliable with even the smallest amount of dirt or mud in it. Might be a good gun if I spent all my time in a vertibird" he said. He thought about what Paul had said to him about assault rifles, then asked "got anything with a scope?"

"Yeah, I got a few guns with scopes. Lemme see..." the arms dealer said. He crouched down again and began popping open rifle crates. The first three had K98k's in them, the fourth had STG-44s, the fifth had six STG-45s, the sixth had G3's, and at last the final crate had two rifles in them that Hans hadn't seen before. The dealer pulled one out and set it down on the counter. "This here's a G11 K1. Got a K2 around here somewhere, I think."

"What's the difference?"

"Well the grip for one. The K1's got a narrower handguard and is a little lighter, but the K2's thicker handguard lets you store magazines on the rifle. Heavier, though."

Hans picked up the K1 and shouldered it. It was lighter than it looked, given how dense it was. Lighter than his G41 had been, at least. The sight picture through the built-in scope was narrow and cluttered a bit by the legs of the carry handle, but the glass was clean. What was remarkable was how trim the rifle was; no protruding charging handles, levers, or switches. "What else have you got?"

"I've got it all, friend. MP18s, MP28s, MP34s, MP40s, an MP5, Sturmgewehrs, Volksturmgewehrs, a Wimmersperg SPZ, G3s, a PSG-1, that G11 in your hands, and some FG-42s. MG-08/15s, MG-15s, MG-34s, MG-42s, Lugers, P38s, C96 pistols and carbines, Walther PPs, PPKs, Hell even got a couple of Energiegewehrs, very expensive. Couple'a M30 Drillings, a Becker revolving shotgun, a Walther toggle-action shotgun. Panzerfausts, Panzerschrecks, a flammenwerfer. Got ammo, too. 9mm, 8mm Mauser, 8mm Kurz, 7.63 Mauser, 12 gauge, 16 gauge. Got foreign guns, too. French guns, Polish guns, Austrian guns, British guns, even a couple American and Chinese guns. Got a Mauser 1918 anti-tank rifle, too. Don't know what a tank is but the gun's as big as a man, swear on my life. Got grenades and knives, too."

"Where do you get all this stuff?" Hans asked.

"Around," the dealer said with a shrug. "Some of it I got by trading with travelers, caravanners, that sort of thing. Some of it is scavenged from the field by Fieldmen. What few military bases not already looted or occupied, either by remnants of the pre-War government or new owners, get searched by Fieldmen and they bring back whatever they find. That's how I've got so many Goddamn K98s; the Fieldmen tend to keep the really good stuff for themselves and leave me with the basics. Still, I got plenty of other connections. Here, take a look at this."

The dealer reached under his counter and produced a wood case. He popped it open, turned it around, and Hans took a look. The interior was lined with light-blue felt, with a cutout for the pistol, spare magazines, and a cleaning kit. The pistol was a Walther PPK, finished in a gold plating and ornately decorated with scrollwork. The grips were ivory, and engraved with the initials A.H. "Who's A.H.?" Hans asked.

"Dunno. Must've been rich if he could afford a pistol like this. I found it in a museum, 'bout a year before I opened up the store here. Traveler from Austria showed me his pistols last month, two platinum Lugers. Said they belonged to a fella named Hermann Göring. Dunno who he is either, but man clearly had a taste for art. Sure hope he and that traveler got a good deal for the two of them" the dealer said.

"Alright, alright, I'll just take the G11. Is there a manual?" Hans asked, and pushed the pistol case back towards the dealer. The man put the case away and looked the rifle over. The dealer produced some very long plastic sticks and handed them to Hans, who stared at them.

"Them are the magazines. You just put one in that channel above the barrel and shove it back into the rifle, then turn that key behind the grip" the dealer said, and began rummaging through his boxes again. He produced a thin booklet and gave it to Hans. "There ya are, the manual. Gun's 1,200 Marks, by the way. I'll throw in 200 rounds, enough to fill up all the mags I gave ya."

"Jesus" Hans said, and reached for his coin purses. He had the money, and it wasn't like the purchase would bankrupt him or the rest of the group, but he could only imagine how much the dealer would charge for the rarer stuff he mentioned. He checked the amount and handed it over to the merchant, who also checked the amount.

"You're from a U-Bahn station?" he asked, and Hans nodded. "Lots of new people coming from the stations around the country, mostly Berlin. Some signed up, some were asked to sign up by the Order. Order's got their own currency but they still take these U-Bahn tokens; they're 90% silver, so the Order smelts 'em down to mint new silver coins with their own design and shit. Couple years from now and all these subway tokens will be gone, so you might want to keep a couple if you're the sentimental type. Or you could load them up in a 37mm grenade launcher and shoot people with 'em, I dunno. Don't laugh, either. I had a traveler show me her shotgun shells filled with coins once. Nasty things."

"Thanks, I'll keep it all in mind. Oh, and don't forget the .45 Mars ammo" Hans said, and the dealer nodded.

"You take care now, friend."

Hans took the G11 and slung it, setting the magazines and their ammo on the counter. After several minutes the magazines were all loaded up to their full 50-round capacity and he slapped one into the rifle with a heavy and satisfying *click.* He slung the rifle and pocketed the box of .45 Mars ammo for later.

By now the early morning light was streaming in through the Hofkirche's windows, and the market was beginning to thin out. Hans took a look around and spotted Hilda looking at clothes, inspecting a pair of boots, and walked over to her. She looked up when she heard him approach and smiled. "Hey Hans. What did you get?" she asked. Hans showed her the G11 and she marveled at it for a moment. "Looks heavy. I'll stick with Erma."

Hans slung his rifle again. "Might be worth taking a look at that arms dealer's stock anyway. I've never seen so many guns in one place."

"Maybe another time, if Erma ever gets destroyed or I lose it down a well or something. What I really need is a new pair of shoes, since these ones are on their way out. Between the week we spent walking from Berlin to Hamburg, plus all the fighting since then, they've really been torn up" Hilda said. She set down the pair she was looking at and picked up another. "Take a look at this. No laces, just a zipper. They're in my size, too... I'll just take these, thanks." She paid the five coins for the boots and crouched down to unlace her current ones. While she was down there she seemed to notice something amidst the pile of clothes. She plucked an article of clothing out of the pile and stood, looking it over. "What...is this?"

"A skirt," the merchant said. "You wear it like pants." The skirt was a faded blue, the hem tattered a bit, but otherwise intact. Hilda held it to her waist and looked down at it, the hem falling down to just above her knees.

"Wouldn't other people be able to look up it and see my underwear? Like when I'm sitting?" she asked, and the merchant nodded, a good-natured smile on her face.

"That's why you cross your legs, honey. Or keep your knees together. Or wear pantyhose. They're not panties, so it's not embarrassing" the merchant said. "If you want it, it'll be two coins. You can leave your old boots with me; the Order will recycle the leather."

Hilda looked at it for a few moments longer and shrugged. She fished out the coins, handed them to the merchant, and stuffed the skirt into her backpack. "Let's go find the others" she said, and Hans nodded. The two of them walked out of the Hofkirche and back into the ornate halls of the Residenz. With their shopping out of the way there wasn't much left to do but link back up with Walter and Klara, and Paul too if he wasn't off doing God knows what. Hans figured it was probably a good thing that Paul hadn't come with them to the market; the man was such a hoarder he would've bankrupted himself buying all sorts of useless crap.

Hans and Hilda had just left the nexus and entered the hall of the Antiquarium when, speak of the Devil, Paul March came jogging up. "Oh good, I managed to catch you two. Get everything squared away?" he asked, and the two of them nodded and told him what they'd bought. "A G11 and a new pair of boots? Mmm, I should probably hit up old Ernie and restock on ammo too, actually. Ah, but that can wait. I told you that Chancellor Dietrich was here, right?"

Hans nodded.

"Good. He's about to make a speech in the theater. Anyone's welcome. I have to be there, of course, being an officer, but you two are invited as well. I checked the bar and couldn't find Walter or Klara, so maybe they heard about it and are already there."

Probably not Walter, at least Hans thought. He shared a look with Hilda and shrugged. "Alright, we're in. Where's the theater?" he asked, and Paul gestured back towards the nexus.

"Just down the hall from the Hofkirche. Here, follow me" he said, and the three of them took off back towards the East end of the Residenz. They passed through the room outside the doors to the Hofkirche and into a narrow, nondescript hall. The walls were lined with windows, a grassy courtyard outside to the right, the grass naturally dead and the trees bare as usual. Hans took a look and realized they were on a second floor, and he had to wonder when they'd ascended enough to reach a second floor. After a minute they reached the end of the hall, the door at the end opening up onto a glass-ceilinged plaza, the glass all broken. A warm breeze gently wafted down through the open ceiling, a pair of doors to the right open. The standing sign outside between the doors was labelled 'Cuvillies Theater.'

"I'm needed down on the ground floor, but the upper levels of the theater are open to civilians. Enjoy the speech" Paul said, and he soon disappeared down a nearby stairwell. Hans shared a look with Hilda, who smiled at him. The two of them proceeded through the open doors and out onto a mezzanine, ornate columns supporting the walls every ten feet or so. The mezzanine forked a few feet beyond the doors, wrapping around the circumference around the room. The upper levels were lightly packed with throngs of people; merchants, secretaries, caravanners, and anyone else who had the free time to attend the speech. Hans stopped by the railing of the mezzanine and saw Paul walking across the ground floor of the theater and take a seat on the left side, near the stage.

Maybe five or six minutes later a man walked out onto the stage, wearing a maroon dress shirt and beige pants, his dress shoes clacking loudly on the surface of the stage. His brown hair was parted, only slightly unkempt, his face cleanly shaven. He stopped at the front of the stage, a lectern standing ready for him. He was carrying a book with him, which he set down on the lectern. He took off his glasses, wiped them off on his shirt, and replaced them. He licked his lips, cleared his throat, and set his hands on the lectern. As best as Hans could tell, the man was in his fifties. Chancellor Karl Dietrich.

"Officers of The Final Order, citizens and merchants of the free and secure city-state of Munich, and my fellow members of the human race, our world is changing. Many of us here are old enough that we remember the world before the War. We remember that life was not easy then, just as it is no less easy today. Civil unrest, shortages, unemployment, inflation, and everywhere you looked, war" the man began, his voice naturally booming in the high ceiling of the theater. "The United States of America invaded Mexico in 2051, in search of oil and petroleum to fuel our world. In 2052, the European Commonwealth followed suit when they invaded the Middle East. Egypt, Syria, Saudi Arabia. Our world leaders invaded these nations in search of the oil that ran our world, but their actions caused only further problems. The price of oil went up, and up, and never once went down. The United Nations disbanded, and the world was plunged into a dark decade of hatred, fury, and violence."

The man cleared his throat again and continued. "Tel Aviv was destroyed in December of 2053. I was eleven years old. I remember watching the news on TV. Every day, it was the war. The Resource Wars. In 2060 the Middle East's oil fields ran dry, rendering an entire decade wasted on folly, and Europe descended into utter lawlessness. In 2066 a scientific miracle occurred: nuclear fusion. For millions of years the only fusion reactor in the universe was our sun, but in that wonderful year man finally had the power of the SUN in our hands. Unlimited energy seemed to be just around the corner, putting an end to all of man's woes. This too was squandered. The United States, beset by a plague and its own economic ruin, was invaded by the People's Republic of China. This was the final nail in the coffin for humanity. In the 2060s, with the social and economic situation in Europe slowly on the mend, our governments and the pre-War corporations became reliant on nuclear energy and imports from America. Fusion-powered cars, airplanes, ships. Military and medical technology. When China invaded Alaska, the United States pulled all their European aid, and our continent finally collapsed. When The Bomb came, Germany was targeted because America still had military bases here. Our world was engulfed in nuclear war, and America and China were completely annihilated. This could have been PREVENTED."

Chancellor Dietrich licked his lips and went on. "Europe has suffered the foul effects of war for almost fifty years! An entire generation raised in the misery of economic ruin and social collapse. Another generation raised in the terror and uncertainty of a world devastated by atomic war. Radiation, mutants, disease. Today, we begin the work that will put an end to this nightmare, and restore stability and prosperity to Germany! Projekt Natursturm. A machine, a replicator, capable of reproducing any item placed inside of it. Unlimited food and water, CLEAN food and water! The Final Order's scientists work day and night to do just that, with the Natursturm device. Combined with a machine we discovered in a secret pre-War government cave in the Alps, we are beginning the experiments that one day Germans will take for granted. This work will end hunger and thirst, will end scarcity. Today it is just food and water, but one day the Natursturm device will provide everything Germans will need in their lives! Cloned organs for transplant, cloned medicines, tools, materials for construction, appliances, anything and everything! This is only one part of the program, however" Dietrich said.

"My fellow Germans, the other half of this program is Projekt Atomsturm. The removal from our society the abominations that plague our nation. Rovers, Croakers, Sturmutants, ghouls, Death's Heads, even the radroaches! In addition to them our human enemies, the raiders and bandits, the Chinese remnants and The Coalition, will also all fall to Atomsturm's might. While our scientists toil day and night to make unlimited food and water a reality, the officers present here and the men in the field will work tirelessly to eradicate the horrific creatures and violent subversives that infest our nation. Atomsturm will sweep our country like a nuclear shockwave, burning away the remnants of The Bomb. The storm will wash away these abominations and criminals, and when the storm clouds clear we will all live in a Germany FREE FROM MISERY, SUFFERING, and WAR!" Karl Dietrich thundered, and all of the Order officers on the ground floor stood and saluted, their right hands over their hearts.

"EIN DEUTSCHLAND, EIN VOLK, EIN VORSTELLUNG!"

The assembled citizens, merchants, and caravanners all began to clap, and Hans peered around the room at the spectacle. The man was clearly very dedicated and intelligent, and even Hans had to admit he was impressed by the nobility of his vision. His gaze turned to Hilda, and she looked back at him, smiling, her hands on her hips.

"One Germany, one people, one vision" she repeated, and Hans nodded. "This is so exciting, I can't wait to get started. Do you think we'll ever see the Natursturm device?"

"I don't know, but a future free from starvation and thirst is absolutely one worth fighting for. We've certainly got our work cut out for us, but if what Chancellor Dietrich is saying is true, then we'll see peace in our lifetimes. Even if we never see this come to fruition, it's the most worthy cause I can think of" Hans said. Dietrich had left the room and the officers were beginning to file out, along with the rest of the people in the theater. "Let's go find Walter and Klara. We have work to do."


The Munich Residenz was a big place, as Hans had already quickly learned, and not all of its halls were laid out in a simple and straight-forward manner. From the Cuvillies Theater getting back to Kommandant Wolfgang's office was as easy as retracing their steps, but of course Walter and Klara weren't at the Commander's office. They were supposed to be at the bar, buying food and water for the five of them, but they weren't there either. As it turned out, they were in a library, in the northwest corner of the building, near the Hofgarten. The library was lit by soft lamps and cast in gentle glows, the lamps powered by a basement generator according to Paul.

"There you are, you two. Enjoying the collection?" Hans said as they entered the library, and Walter and Klara turned to look at him. Walter smiled and set down the book he was holding.

"About time. You must've spent almost an hour shopping for a new gun. Looks like you picked a nice one, too!" Walter said, and Hans nodded. "I have to admit, the Order does keep a fine collection of books. We still planning to get the little one into a school, to teach her how to read?"

Hans shared a look with Hilda, who nodded. "Yes, I would like that. I guess it can wait, though. Chancellor Dietrich was here, and delivered a speech in a theater. He told us all about Projekt Natursturm and Project Atomsturm" Hilda said. Walter turned his attention back to Hans.

"And just what is Projekt Natursturm, really?"

"A replicator. A machine that can perfectly clone anything placed inside it. Put in one apple, two apples come out, apparently. It sounds impossible, and none of us have actually seen the device, but it's supposed to work. Or going to, at least" Hans said. "The Chancellor said the Order's scientists are on it day and night."

"And Atomsturm?"

Hans shared a look with Hilda, and Paul. It was time for the other shoe to drop. "A pogrom. In no uncertain terms. Ghouls, feral and otherwise, Sturmutants, Rovers, Croakers, Death's Heads, everything. Wiped from the face of the earth."

"Oh, what the fuck is a Death's Head?" Klara asked.

"I don't know, and I don't really want to know. No one's going to miss most of those abominations, but we already know the plan for the ghouls is controversial" Hans said.

"That's one way of putting it," Walter said. "Sounds more like to me that The Final Order should've called itself The Final Reich."

"What's with the ghoul love, anyway?" Hilda asked.

"You just don't get it. It's not about ghouls, it's about the principle. It starts with ghouls, then it moves on to others. Religious minorities, racial minorities, gays, political criminals, and anyone and everyone who defies the jackboots" Walter explained.

"For what it's worth, the Order actively rewards homosexuality. No chance of procreation leads to less mouths to feed. Helps keep resources in check" Paul chimed in.

"Thank you for that. My point still stands. Anyone who's read a history book would take one look at this whole system and expect this Chancellor Dietrich to pull out a copy of Mein Kampf. Is this who we want to be?" Walter asked.

"Think about it. A future free from hunger. A future in which our nation and our world is no longer the irradiated Hellscape it currently is. Free education, free healthcare, free food and water. We have a chance here to not only fix the sins of our collective past, but to create a future in which they can't be repeated."

"If the Natursturm device works."

Hans nodded. "If it works, yes."

Walter bit his lip and looked around at the group. "What do you think, Klara?"

Their former councilor looked at him. "Being on the U-Bahn council meant I got a pretty decent education. I can see what you're saying, I just don't agree with it. Ghouls just are not human, period. Radiation has so extensively altered their DNA that they must be considered a new species. For God's sake, ghouls heal from exposure to radiation. No human on this planet could do that. They're as much an abomination as all the rest of the horrors we live with."

"So I'm the odd one out, then?" Walter asked.

"You don't have to take part in Atomsturm, friend. It's dangerous work, and as such it's volunteer only" Paul said. "We may have standing orders to execute abominations on sight, but most Fieldmen take that to mean ghouls. Anything more dangerous and they just report its location so the Stormtroopers have a general idea of where it might be. A few divisions have been trialing this for a few weeks, using field reports to track the movements of Rovers and the locations of Croaker nests, and it's been working. That's why Projekt Atomsturm was announced, so Stormtroopers could volunteer. It's going to take a long time, I imagine."

"Fine, that's great," Walter said. He turned to face Hilda. "But if you or anyone else in this group, minus our babysitter here, does that shit again I'm stopping you. I won't be a part of that, and I won't let any of you do it either."

Hilda scoffed. "I won't let you stop me, you zombie-loving prick. I'm not a slave anymore."

"Enough!" Hans said. "Let's all take a moment to calm down, alright? Let's stay focused on the big picture here; Projekt Natursturm. This is the key to saving all of Germany and maybe the rest of Europe from the horrors that plague our miserable fucking lives. I want to be a part of that. Does anyone else? Then let's stay here, with the Order, and try to do some good for a change."

"Fine, I'm in. Do we have any work?" Walter asked.

"We do. Well, I do. Kommandant Wolfgang told me to report to him after Chancellor Dietrich's speech. He'll have orders for me now, so I imagine he'll have something for the four of you to take on. Maybe even something we can work together on again, eh? Let's head back to his office" Paul said, and the team took off back through the winding halls of the Residenz, making their way through the crowds of people. Noon was quickly approaching, and activity had definitely picked up following the Chancellor's speech. Hans could hear the thrum of vertibirds they flew overhead, coming and going, taking off and landing, interspersed with distant shouts of training instructors or excited chatter.

Even with all the increased foot traffic it was a quick walk back to the Commander's office, and when they arrived Paul knocked. The secretary once again opened the door and waved him in. "The rest of you, too. The Kommandant has an important mission for you all."

Hans and the others followed Paul into the reception area and into Wolfgang's office, the aging man standing by the window and reading a file. He looked up as the team entered the office and set the file down. The door closed behind them, Wolfgang walked around to the front of his desk, and sat on the edge.

"Lieutenant March here has spoken highly of your abilities. He clams the lot of you are the best mercs he's ever worked with. High praise, considering the Order has all manner of Fieldmen, Stormtroopers, and Panzertruppen in our service. The mission I'm about to ask you to embark on might be completely safe, or it might be incredibly dangerous. You're welcome to decline it" Commander Wolfgang said.

What the Hell is a Panzertrooper?

"Tell us, and then we'll decide" Hans said, and Wolfgang nodded.

"I told you earlier that the Natursturm requires a tremendous amount of energy. So much so that the scientists are having trouble running it. If they can't run it, they can't test it. If they can't test it, they can't prove it works. If it doesn't work, then everything we're doing and have been doing will be for nothing. After a lengthy windup process the machine is capable of generating its own energy, but not enough to actually drive its systems. It requires additional power sources. North of here, twenty minutes by flight, is the BMW museum. Before the Resource Wars BMW made automobiles, but the company began life making aircraft engines. When the Resource Wars began BMW, like most of Germany's companies during the war, did work for the Bundeswehr. At first, traditional aircraft engines. As the war progressed, they began working on developing their own fusion engines based on American designs" Wolfgang said.

"So you want us to find and retrieve any jet engines that might be in the museum?" Walter asked, and Wolfgang nodded.

"Yes, that is correct. A simple mission, if the area wasn't so dangerous. The nuke that hit Munich landed in the Olympia Park, just a few miles from the museum. The buildings were heavily damaged as a result, but they still stand. Worse still, however, the site of the museum was also home to a BMW production plant. Fusion cars, fusion planes, and, naturally, the radioactive material required to run them. The production plant was heavily damaged as well, blanketing almost the entire site in this toxic, possibly radioactive smog. In addition to that the site was also home to a rather large coal stockpile, for use in creating synthetic fuel for traditional jet engines. Damage to the plant resulted in the stockpiles igniting, the thick smoke adding to the toxic smog. Simply put, the area around the BMW museum and production facility is one of the most dangerous areas in all of Munich. There's little sign of activity there, human or otherwise, but you must assume the site is occupied and that whatever creatures may live there have adapted to the environment."

Hans rubbed his chin for a moment. "How will we get in and out?"

"Vertibird. The site is home to a large tower, some kind of corporate office for the firm. You will insert via the roof and search the offices for any information on jet engines and fuel that may possibly still be on the grounds of the facility or, Hell, in the bodies of the cars and planes in the museum. If you find any, tag their locations and bring the information back here to us. We'll send in others to retrieve them" Wolfgang said.

"Well, we have gas masks, so we should be OK on that front. We're all pretty well stocked on ammunition, medical supplies, food, and water. No human could survive in the conditions you described, and I bet most normal creatures couldn't. The biggest threat is probably the structural damage to the buildings" Hans said, still rubbing his chin. "What's the pay?"

"1,000 Marks. Each."

"What's a Mark?" Hilda asked.

"Silver coins. Like the U-Bahn tokens you're all so used to" Paul said, and Hilda nodded.

"I'm in. What about you, Hans?"

Hans thought about it a moment. "It's dangerous, but not unreasonably so, and the pay is quite simply immense. I'm in too, then."

"I'm beginning to think I'd be better off working here in the Residenz, performing some kind of administrative role. Still, if you go in under strength then you'll be in even more danger. Plus, I like to think a shotgun would do very well inside those offices, should they actually be occupied by Heaven knows what. I'll tag along, but when we get back I'd like to see what kind of job listings you all have here" Klara said.

"I refuse to agree with the Order's pogrom on sane ghouls, but the work on Natursturm is definitely worth everything you people are throwing at it. If this job will help advance that project along then I'll pitch in" Walter said.

"Naturally I'm in as well. I'm sure the museum is home to an absolute mountain of useful loot besides the engines. Plus, there's no way I could resist the chance to see any old vehicles that might still be there" Paul said.

Wolfgang nodded. "Good... Very good" he said, clearly relieved. "The five of you should be as careful as possible. Take no unnecessary risk. Your lives come before everything else. If this lead doesn't pan out, then I'm sure we'll find other ways to power Natursturm. You'll leave tomorrow morning. For now, I recommend getting as much rest as you can. The day is still young, and there's plenty to do here. Ms. Hutier, my secretary, will show you to your rooms. Good luck and Godspeed, Pariser Team."

With that they were dismissed. They all stepped back into the reception area, and Ms. Hutier produced a clipboard and keys and handed them to Paul. "This map will show you to the dorms. The Commander has reserved two rooms for the five of you, overlooking the Hofgarten. A rather nice view, actually. I'm a bit jealous" the woman said, and adjusted her glasses. The way she was eyeing Hans made him a bit suspicious.

"I'm sure it is. Thank you" he said, and they all left. They proceeded back through the halls of the Residenz to the northern end of the palace, to an area labelled 'dorms and recreation rooms' on the map. Paul led them through the halls to a winding, spiral straircase that led up to the top floor of the palace. The stairs opened up on a hall lined with doors on the left side and windows on the right, the windows looking out on a stone courtyard that looked like an outdoor eating area. They followed Paul down the hall until he stopped outside two doors, each of them labelled. He opened the door to one and they all peered in. The room was nice, if a little sparse. There were two beds against the right wall, a large couch across from them in the corner, under the window looking out on the Hofgarten. The second room was much smaller, with just one bed against the wall, immediately to the left as Hans walked in. The only other furniture in the room was an armoire; a very nice one, if he was any judge of armoires, which he wasn't, and an armchair by the window.

"Hans and I will take this one, thank you" Hilda said, and walked into the room. She shrugged her backpack off and set it against the wall under the window. Hans shared a look with the others, who just shrugged.

"Guess Klara, Paul, and I will take the other one" Walter said. They went into their room and also took off their packs and some of their gear. Paul looked over the keys that the secretary had handed to him, the two of them labeled as well,, and handed one to Hans and the other to Walter. "We'll have to figure out the bed situation later."

"I'll just take the couch. I've slept on worse" Paul said, and the others nodded. "We've got some free time now, if anyone wants to head down to Pfalzer and try the wine" he said with a grin.

"I'll stay here, thanks. I'm a little exhausted" Hilda said, and she sat down in the chair. Hans nodded and reached up to release his own backpack.

"I'll do the same. We'll be here if anyone needs us" he said.

"Got it. See you in the morning" Walter said, and the rest of the team left. Hans shut the door and sat down on the bed, reaching down to unlace his boots and take them off.

"We'll have to figure out the bed situation too. It's big enough for the two of us to share, if you're OK with that" Hilda said. He looked at her and nodded as he set his boots next to the bed. He lied back on the bed, his legs dangling off the side.

"Sure. I don't have a problem with that" he said. He put his hands behind his head and relaxed, the bed a lot nicer than he thought it'd be. He could get used to this, if all the rest of the beds the Order had were as nice.

"Hey, Hans...?" He sat up and looked at Hilda, who brushed her hair behind her ear. "Thanks. For earlier. For everything, really."

Hans smiled at here. "Anytime, Hilda." He heard her get to her feet and open up her pack, rummaging through it as she searched for something. After a moment she pulled out the skirt she'd bought at the market and held it up. "Going to try it on?"

"Yeah. No idea what else I'd use it for, other than wearing it" she said, and unbuttoned her pants. Hans looked away, at the door, while he waited for Hilda to change. He listened to the sound of her belt jingling, the soft ruffle of her pants as she set them aside. There was a zipping noise a moment later, followed by a few moments of silence. "What do you think?"

Hans looked back over at her. The faded blue of the skirt clashed a little with the brown plaid of her shirt, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't suit her. Holding it up in the market the skirt had fallen down to her knees, but wearing it now the hem went down to the middle of her thighs, exposing a fair amount of her legs. His gaze traveled up her legs, to her thighs, and then up to her eyes. "I've never actually seen a woman wearing a skirt before, but it looks good on you. Maybe you'll find more."

Hilda smiled and turned around, looking over her shoulder down her backside. "It feels...weird. Breezy" she said, and brushed the sides of the skirt. "It doesn't touch my legs, so it feels like I'm not even wearing it. I keep thinking you can see my underwear, not that that's a big deal. You saw them at Peenemunde. Dunno how I'd feel about other people seeing them, though."

"Well, don't wear it where other people are, then. You could just wear it around us, when we're all resting and relaxing where no one else can see us" he said, and Hilda nodded.

"...OK. Sure. Or maybe I'll just wear it around you. Or maybe I'll find a pair of pantyhose, like that merchant said. I guess I'll try sleeping in it tonight and see what I think when I wake up tomorrow. I don't know if I'll ever get used to how breezy it feels, though" she said, still turning in place. She stopped turning and looked down at it, still brushing it. "Kinda wish it was tighter. At least tight enough to touch my thighs. It's not bad, though, just weird."

Hans lied back down and put his hands behind his head again. "Well, if you don't end up liking it then maybe you could use it as a tourniquet."

"Hopefully it doesn't come to that" Hilda said, her voice near the floor. Hans could hear her rummaging through her pack again. He took a peek and saw her pull out the medical book he'd given her back in the Genetics Institute, what felt like a lifetime ago. She looked at it, then at him, and he sat up. "Do you think you could...read it to me?" she asked.

He nodded, and she quickly sat down on the bed next to him. She handed him the book and he opened it up, flipping through the first few pages. Helping Hilda learn how to read was going to be a long process, but he knew it would be worth it in the end.


Later that night Hans woke up to the sound of rain, the light from the spotlights in the Hofgarten, illuminating it for the vertibirds, casting a faint light into the room. He was lying in the bed, listening to the sound of the rain pattering on the window, and he slowly became aware that he couldn't feel Hilda in the bed with him still. He figured that she'd just gone to the bathroom and was about to turn over when he realized that Hilda actually was still in the bed with him. Very much still in the bed with him, as a matter of fact.

Hans had gone to bed lying on his left side, facing the wall, and at some point in the night Hilda had turned over to face the same direction. Also at some point in the night she'd moved in closer to Hans, her right arm wrapped around his stomach, holding him tightly to her body. Her chest, her stomach, her hips, even her legs and feet were pressed against the backside of his body. Her left arm was under the pillow, propping up his head.

"Hilda?" he whispered, and she didn't even stir. He could hear her softly breathing, her stomach pressing to his back as it rose and fell. He licked his lips and put his right hand under the pillow to gently squeeze his friend's hand. "Oh, Hilda..." he whispered. Whether she actually had feelings for him, or if she was even aware of them, he couldn't tell, but it was clear that she needed him. After everything she'd been through with her childhood, plus the horrors of their everyday lives, she needed someone to lean on for support. Hans could only imagine that the things they'd be going through in the days and weeks ahead would be even harder, and some small part of him realized that he'd likely lean on her just the same.

With the two of them together like that, supporting each other, there was nothing they couldn't overcome.


A/N Lately I've been playing this game called Atom RPG. It's basically a 1:1 clone of Fallout 1, set in the Soviet Union. I've tried playing Fallout 1 a couple of times but couldn't get in to it, but I'm addicted to Atom RPG and strongly recommend you play it if you like old school RPGs.