"Weighing the sacrifices of the last war, we want to be true friends of a peace which will at last heal the wounds from which all have suffered."

- Adolf Hitler

8/6 2035.

The 4th SS assault battalion, 22nd Panzergrenadier Division "Florian Geyer".

Taetrus.

Besieging a compound...

These rebels, the scum of the galaxy, were proving more and more annoying by the day. The SS were outside a large compound, located within a thick forest. It was clearly makeshift, built in a hurry and then improved over time. Hauptsturmführer Ralph Heisenberg was feeling more and more insulted by these birds and their fruitless resistance. He wanted to shell the ever living hell out of that makeshift camp, but for some reason his superiors argued against it. As if these dogs deserve anything but a quick death, if even that.

They have had this standoff for some time now, probably around 5 hours. At least ever since they located the base in the woods. Once again, his superiors had told him to stand down and await further orders. Ralph's blood was beginning to boil, especially since these flightless birds liked to snipe one of his troops every now and then.

"Give it up Turians! We have you surrounded. If you leave now, we'll grant you a quick death! You keep this up, and we'll drag you out kicking and screaming, and then you'll undergo the most exterme torture… Not just you, but your families as well. All of you will hang!" Ralph yelled through the speaker, it would automatically translate into their language.

In response, these scum fired off a few rounds. Striking one of the soldiers standing. He fell down, dead. They had guts to spit the SS right in their face as they did. But they would get their punishment soon enough, they would die last, their families would be cut up like common meat before their eyes.

"Obersturmführer! Get a recruit ready for the final sacrifice. We're going through that wall one way or another." Ralph ordered as he took his eyes off the binoculars.

"Of course Herr Hauptsturmführer." The officer replied and instantly asked his platoon who wanted the honor, they all practically lined up to be the first in line. Blowing yourself up in the name of the Reich and the Aryan race was the highest honor any SS men could ever get. Two men were picked out, and they readied their suits. Ralph smiled as he watched the two soldiers get ready, he felt… Almost proud, like a father would be of his sons.

However, before he could give the order, a shuttle came in. Ralph looked at it confused, he hadn't received word of this. The shuttle, bearing the SS logo, was without a doubt carrying a superior officer, but why? He had this totally under control, he had followed their orders so far.

Inside the compound…

"Why aren't they attacking?" Aulmus asked as he looked out the boarded up window. He had been keeping an eye on the things going on for a while now, as had most of them. They were about 50-60 Turians inside, not a big force, but they were all highly trained and could hold out for a long enough time, if given the chance.

"Because they want Vocus alive. Probably want to hang him in the streets to make a point or something. Otherwise they would have shelled us long ago." Serruns replied as he was cleaning out his rifle. Vocus Quidas was the big dog, de facto leader of the Turian resistance. Former colonel in the Turian army, and now the highest ranking officer left on this colony.

"it's getting me on edge… If that's the case, why don't they just storm the compound? They have the numbers for it, and they seem to care little about casualties on their side. Something isn't right…" Aulmus theorized. He had faced off against the invaders a few times now, and so far they had been pretty predictable in their behaviour.

"Whatever you say. I still think we should have spent this time getting Vocus out of here, those tunnels might not be finished, but they can get a man out." Serruns replied as he got up. "Let me have a look." He requested as he went over to the window. Aulmus made room for Serruns. "You might be right, maybe not though. Seem like they are-"

"Status update?" A voice asked from the other side of the room. Both Turians scrambled to stand at attention, they knew the voice as Vocus' voice. Firm and commanding, as ever. A tough old bastard.

"They haven't made any moves yet, besides blasting warnings at us. Telling us to surrender or suffer. They might be getting ready for an assault, or hoping to starve us out." Aulmus quickly answered the older Turian.

"Figured as much. They want me alive. Well, come and get me is what I say." Vocus remarked as he too went to take a look.

"Sir, If I may." Serruns requested.

"Go ahead soldier." Vocus allowed him, but his voice told him to do it quickly.

"I still think we should get you out of here. Live to fight another day, we'll hold them off for long enough for you to escape through the tunnels." Serruns had already voiced this plan before, a few hours ago as a matter of fact. Vocus had shut him down back then, and he would probably do the same now.

"I'm not a coward! Any good leader will stand and fight! What do you think I am, a Salarian?" Vocus was visibly angered by this.

"I'm sorry Sir, I wouldn't ask this of anyone else, but better you alive than dead or in the hands of those bastards I say. We need you to continue the fight, die here now, and this planet dies, along with everyone else on it." Serruns tried to plead with him, it was probably useless.. But he wouldn't want to see his Commander dead. He had served under him for over 5 years at this point.

Vocus tried to argue, he was about damn ready to smack the Turian in the back of the head at this besmirching of his rank and his honor. Yet… he was right. It went against all he believed in, hell it went against his very nature… But these sorry fellers couldn't win a war against the invaders, not now and not ever… At least not without proper leadership. His name would surely burn because of this… But his men and the colony took priority over ancient honor.

"Alright… Show me where the tunnels are…"

Outside the compound...

"Oberst-Gruppenführer Hass! I-I hadn't expected you... " Ralph stood at attention, so firm his back felt like it was gonna snap at any time.

"Hauptsturmführer Ralph Heisenberg. Why hasn't the compound been taken yet?" Siegmar Hass asked, his voice cold and reserved. His uniform was pristine, in stark contrast to Ralph's uniform. Which was to be expected. Siegmar was, after all, the supreme commander of the entire operation, the entire war on the SS part as well.

"I'm sorry sir! I asked for permission to use artillery, but HQ denied it! Say the word, and we'll take the place!" Ralph was ready to get on his knees and beg for his life. The mere assumption of disapproval in a superior officer's voice was enough to have you sent to the firing range.

"No you idiot!" Siegmar smacked Ralph, backhanded across his cheek. Siegmar's voice was now more angry. "I want Vocus alive. That dog needs to hang in the square. I want your men to take the compound and bring me him, ALIVE! Not level it to the ground!" Siegmar ordered, and it was clear that Siegmar thought he was speaking to the dumbest person in existence… In fact, everyone that wasn't Siegmar, was clearly at least 40 points below him in the IQ scale.

"Of course sir! Right away sir!" Ralph quickly replied as he rubbed the sore area on his cheek. "Honigberg! Get the men ready!" Ralph turned around and ordered. WIthin seconds, the entire battalion were in position to storm the place. The two lucky men who were going to clear the path were Höffner and Spahr, two low level soldiers… But they were almost fighting each other for the honor.

All teams checked as the two men walked up to the wall. The Turian snipers could, very well, make this difficult for them all. Spahr went down, just before reaching the gate. Shot through the neck, and was now bleeding out.. And would probably be dead within the minute. Höffner was still in the race though, and he made it all the way to the gate before they shot him.

"FÜR DEUTSCHLAND!" He screamed as he set his suit to explode. It shook the ground and did what it was supposed to… Blew a massive hole in the gate and the surrounding wall.

Inside the compound...

"FÜR DEUTSCHLAND!" Was all they heard before the very ground made everyone fall straight on their ass. When they got on their feet again, they saw that it was on now… Men in black uniforms storming inside the compounds. The men posted at the front gate did all they could, but it was not enough.

"Vocus! You gotta go! NOW!" Serruns all but shoved Vocus down the narrow shaft to the tunnels. They would cover up the entrance with some furniture, as to give Vocus as much time as possible.

"THEY'RE COMING! GET READY!" Aulmus yelled from the front door of the main building.

"Spirits watch over you all." Vocus said before he descended.

"Yes sir, and same to you." Serruns replied as he closed the hatch and began throwing as much furniture and heavy items over the hole as possible. "You ready Aulmus?" Serruns asked as he joined his old friend.

"Always." Aulmus answered as he trained his gun towards the door. They waited a few seconds before the door was kicked down by the invaders.

"See you on the other side." Serruns said. Aulmus nodded to confirm.

"Verdammte Turians!" They could hear as the door was kicked down, and they poured in. Both of them kept firing, and never stopped. They had this standoff for over a minute before Aulmus was killed, single bullet through the head. Serruns took several bullets in the arm, legs and torso, but kept fighting. He kept fighting until the bitter end.

May the Hierarchy be victorious.

Outside the compound...

The sounds of battle waged ever higher as Oberst-Gruppenführer Siegmar Hass stood from a distance watching the whole spectacle unfurl. It was glorious, yet his only regret was that his men did not have the forethought to do this all sooner. Should an ample amount of them survive this, he will have to discipline a few by hanging to make a point, the SS does not accept cowards into its ranks. As gunshots could be heard and flashes from inside the compound were seen, Hass' comms lit up.

"Oberst-Gruppenführer Hass, speak." he answered the radio.

"Admiral Tristan Grothmann of the 4th fleet here, where are you Oberst-Gruppenführer?"

"Currently solving the issue of the Turians once and for all." he turned away from the compound. "Soon we shall be capturing the leader of the Turian partisans and making an example of them all."

"That's all fine and good Oberst-Gruppenführer, however I wished to inform you of a simple dent in those plans."

"And what would that be." Hass could hear some form of chatter happening in the background from the Admiral's side, no doubt just the staff performing operations around the bridge. "Another orbital bombardment."

"Oh yes, several in fact, but not coming from us."

"Come again?"

An explosion was heard coming from the Admiral's side, followed by an alarm and several panicking staff members from the ship. "As you have no doubt heard Hass…" the admiral's tone remained calm throughout all the commotion, which only served to confuse him more. "We are currently being demolished by a counter attack. We're holding out for another day, but we estimate the enemy's strength is at least three times greater than our own." Tristan explained. Hass could hear shouting in the back of the comms call. No doubt from all the officers on the fleet trying to fight back.

"What do you mean you will hold out for another day? Surely, the Kriegsmarine can defeat these vermins?" Hass asked, his blood was beginning to boil. How dare they just pull out so soon? Did they have no honor at all?

"Strict orders from Großadmiral Gerhardt, and I'm inclined to agree. You have one day to evacuate this planet. My advice Oberst-Gruppenführer, get you and your men the hell out of there, were it not for you still being on the planet I would have evacuated already. Consider this my olive branch, from one arm to the other." Tristian explained. It was an offer, the best one he was going to get no doubt. But the SS do not dabble in offers.

"I'll have to speak with the Reichsführer first." Hass hanged up. He wanted to keep fighting this war, wanted to take that prisoner alive, hang him from a light pole. But he also wanted to preserve the SS divisions, have them live to fight another day. Without the fleet, the SS were blind and vulnerable. No air support, no recon and no bombardment to keep the enemy down. No doubt the enemy fleet was bringing fresh troops to the fight as well. Hass called up the Reichsführer, if Lorenz didn't pick up the phone, he would make a decision on his own.

"Speak." The voice of Lorenz came from it.

"Heil Germania! This is Oberst-Gruppenführer Hass speaking. The Kriegsmarine have just told me that they are facing a large enemy force and are preparing to retreat from the system. They have offered me and my men to evacuate with them. What are your orders, sir?" Hass reported

"Acknowledged, no retreat, final orders." the SS Führer seemed just about ready to hang up before Hass came in immediately.

"What?! Have you lost your damn mind you fucking moron?!" His simple yet nonchalant comment made Hass lose any sense of composure and respect for that turd of a man. "You are asking us to sit by and have ourselves get bombed! Is that it?!"

"You have your orders Oberst-Gruppenführer, now be a good Aryan and follow them. Do not make me repeat them." The Reichsführer spelled danger. He was serious, no doubt about it. But it only served to make Hass more angry.

Hass clenched his fist tightly. "You chinless fucking mongoloid… You utter untermensch! When I get back to Paris, I'll make sure Obergruppenführer Armin personally has your head for this, you hear me?! I'LL BREAK YOU MYSELF!"

The SS Fuhrer did not answer, he no doubt hung up somewhere in-between Hass' raging and spiteful speech, yet Hass did not care, he continued to scream and cuss that spineless dimwit before throwing the phone away. "Obergruppenführer Philipp!" He called out, and the man came running as fast as he could. "Get the men rallied together. We're leaving." Hass ordered. He was, effectively, signing his own death warrant. The Reichsführer would not tolerate it. But he didn't care. Hass was never someone anyone, not even he himself, would consider compassionate or kind-hearted by any means, but more importantly, he was not stupid. Abandoning this post now may give the Turians the edge, but land can be taken back if need be, soldiers and more importantly equipment could not. Push comes to shove, he'll join up with some of his contacts in Ostland or Krim, perhaps throw his hat in with the Fuhrer, he would no doubt wish for someone on the inside in his ranks.

"Sir… Are you sure?" Philipp asked.

"Of course. Forget about that compound. We have one day to evacuate the entire colony. I want as much equipment saved as possible. We'll fight another day." Hass replied. That was the end of the discussion. He would face the music if need be, but for now, it was time for a tactical retreat.

Hass called up Tristan one more time with the broken phone. "Admiral, tell your carriers to be ready, we'll be in the shuttles shortly."

10/6 2035.

Reichskanzlei Germania, Großgermanisches reich

Ulfric rubbed his temple as he leaned back into his chair, it had been a good few days since he had slept a full 8 hours, hell at this point he would have taken even two. But the Reich does not sleep in War, and it seems the Führer does not as well.

He took a sip of his coffee as his guest and by now unofficial confidant in America sat across the table with a smirk on his face. "Tired My Fuhrer? Why it's only-" he reached out his hand elaborately and checked his watch, "5 PM, quite early to be drinking coffee for you, you usually start at 7."

"Very funny, mein Amerikanischer freund." Ulfric often cherished these small moments he and Luke could spend some quality time bickering in his office, it was a nice reprieve from the bootlicking and treason both his own government and the SS would subject him to. These encounters were often nothing more than friendly spats however, with no threats of civil war looming over them, which was a reprieve. "How have you been Herr Davis?"

"Please, Mr. Davis was my father, call me Mr. President."

"Isn't that more formal though?"

"It is, we're not friends." Luke fired back. His face remained unfazed.

"Ever the snake you are." Ulfric sighed. "Very well, Mr. President." he spoke the title in English, or as good an english accent a german man could do. "What is the situation on the Homefront?"

"Well my wife Debra keeps bitching at me that I don't take her anywhere anymore, my son still hates me for not coming to his football game, and my daughter as well, also for not coming to my son's football game." Luke answered.

"Very funny."

"And on the other Homefront, well, it's slightly less difficult. We got Dixiecrats on one side wanting to kick the Japs outta any city they occupy, and the Hippie Communist-Jews, or as my Vice calls 'em, Liberals, on the other wanting to turn my country into a commune. And my secretary still wants me to go fishing with him and his brother." Luke leaned in from his chair. "I don't want to go fishing, Ulfric. You don't know what fishing with the Wallace's is like."

"Fishing is overrated. I tried it once with my grandfather. Didn't very much like it." Ulfric replied as he once again rubbed his temples.

Just then Ulfric's own secretary, Martin, came barging in the door with not even so much as a Heil Germania. "MEIN FÜHRER, A REPORT! TURIANS! SHIPS! THE FLEET!" Martin rushed towards the desk in a panic, a folder with documents and papers nearly flying out of his hands alongside some strange device on the other hand.

"Settle down Martin! What is the meaning of this?!" Ulfric snapped back to his status as Führer, people like Luke and Gottfried were all too aware of the stress this war had not only put on his nation's industry and space force, but the Fuhrer's own psyche. Still, that didn't mean Germania needed to know. It was not as if he would think someone like Martin would be a spy for the Japanese, he simply didn't trust him enough to not blurt it out accidentally.

"The Fleet, mein Führer! The Fleet!" The-" Martin continued on his exasperated tirade before Luke got up from his chair and smacked the secretary across the cheek.

"Settle down man and spit it out!" he quite literally slapped the sense into the man, out of turn, perhaps, needed, definitely.

"Y-yes…" Martin calmed down as he regained his composure, shaking himself out of the daze the American had put in him. "M-... Mein Führer, a report to you from die Front." he stated, a certain fearful calm suddenly washing over Martin, no doubt in expectation that if he didn't Luke would smack him again.

Ulfric opened the documents, another sigh escaping his lips. As the two men in front of him stood, he sat down back on his chair and read. Putting on his reading glasses that were on the table he scanned quickly through the reports, trying to get all the details in his head as quickly as he could. Martin and Luke were completely silent, one from fear, the other from stone-faced curiosity and expectation.

A fine minute of tension passed before Ulfric turned to the other paper and read through, his brow furrowing further and further as he did so. "Well?" Luke did not seem to take the anticipation with patience it seemed. "How's it looking?"

"It is looking." Ulfric removed his glasses and looked at his American confidant. "Like we just lost a major battle for sector dominance of the Mactare system. Großadmiral Gerhardt pulled the plug and got the SS and the fleets out of there…"

"That coward!" Martin interjected.

"And from what I'm reading…" Ulfric continued. "It was the right thing to do." Ulfric added. He wasn't an expert on combat in Space, Gerhardt had attempted to explain it to him once, but he might as well have been speaking Russian.

"That genius!" Martin corrected himself.

"Well damn, so where does that put us on the scale against those bug-faced bastards?"

"Puts us on the scale of not very good Lucas, not very good at all." he stroked his chin for a moment, thinking back on all the major operations and battles that have gone down in this past month of war alone. Despite his best estimations, the German War Machine was already losing steam, he could practically taste the Austerity measures being implemented.

While not broken and scattered, they had lost the advantage in this offensive, and the Turians, for all intents and purposes had them severely outnumbered and outgunned. He would have to order his men to start going on the offensive, Gottfried won't like that, but he'll understand, no point in throwing men at a steel wall hoping it will break down. A stalemate is what they were at right now, but in their position, a stalemate may as well be defeat right now. He did not know how many systems, planets, or even ships these Turians had under their control, but they most definitely outnumbered anything the Reich currently had or could produce on such short notice.

Flashes of his time as a soldier began to come back to him, those long days and nights defending the Hill he and Gottfried were stationed at, the flames dancing across the distance, his comrades being shattered apart by explosives and shredded RPG's. How many days, how many weeks did they spend trapped on that hill, how many nights did the entire night sky become illuminated by the fires dancing from afar slowly turning into thick black smoke. All of it, all for one damn hill. All of this because of one damn ship.

As he slowly descended into a pit of despair over reliving memories of his time during the Oil Crisis, the Führer spotted that device Martin was holding alongside the documents also placed on this table. "What is this?"

"A…" Martin struggled to remember the words. "I believe it is a simple communicator that the Turians use, mein Führer." he settled for the alternative.

"A communicator." he hovered his hand over the device, careful not to lay a finger on it before he knew of why it was here in front of him.

"It is alright mein Führer, the SS have investigated it heavily, there are no traps or hidden contraptions within it. Merely… a message."

As he laid his finger on it, Ulfric must have accidentally turned on some sort of switch for the device as it lit up, and a small blue hologram of a Turian showed up on top of it. He could not hide the fact he was just a tiny bit surprised by it, even spooked, but this was no new technology, and he already knew that the Turians had more advanced tech than them.

"Greetings, leader of Germania." the Turian spoke in a language he had never thought to hear coming from one of these aliens, German. "If you are receiving this, then our envoy has successfully reached you, know that we send this message with the utmost respect for those who have fought in this war so far, and as such, we have come with an offering. A peace offering to be more exact." his eyes widened at what he was hearing, and he had to rub the lids of them for just a second to realize that this was not some dream. "You are no doubt shocked at this message. However, with the recent events and operations that have taken place in this conflict, we believe that true diplomacy may win out over barbarism. The being you shall now see after me is from a species of our galactic federative council known as the Asari, a delegate of the Matriarchy for which we have chosen would be a good neutral party for our two sides to meet and delegate this affair."

The hologram soon disappeared, only to be replaced with another, a figure he could only describe as far more humanoid as the Turians, all the way up to the head that is. A woman, with blue skin and strange tendril-like hair.

"Greetings Mensch, I am an Envoy of the Asari Matriarchy, more importantly I represent a combined effort from this galaxy's main peacekeeping force, the Citadel. As we have all been well aware ever since the tragic occurrences of your past lunar month, it would seem that a grave misunderstanding has happened between your two races of German and Turian, one we are incredibly distraught to not have intervened in sooner." the three men listened to the alien woman's speech with both intrigue yet confusion. While the German High Command was already aware of this, Lucas and Martin, people not within the "inner circle" so to speak, still had no clue nor information on the other races that were supposedly allied with the Turians. It was now almost a certainty that other life existed in space, and it would be foolish to believe the Turians were the only other intelligent lifeforms in the Galaxy, yet with these "Asari", they seemed to possess far more humanized elements. Their posture, their looks, even their way of speaking seemed much more personalized in a way where a Human would say it.

'That Turian was no doubt reading from one of the most wooden scripts in history if this is who I am comparing him to.' Ulfric thought.

"Both sides have suffered immense hardships in this war, and it is frankly shameful that First Contact should be made like this. It is for these reasons that the Citadel and its main races wish to offer Germania and its people an extended hand of friendship. If you respond positively to our request, a ceasefire will be signed effective immediately, and we will invite you to the Citadel, the hub of the Galaxy, for further peace talks. The Citadel is a neutral ground, where neither party has nothing to fear. Should you decline our offer, we will be forced to let this war continue, and further aggressions will result in our intervention on behalf of the Turians to bring a swift end to the conflict."

The hologram turned itself off at the end of the Asari woman's monologue. Leaving only the three men in silence to contemplate on the words they had just heard spoken to them.

"Damn." Lucas broke the silence. "That chick's got a nice ass on her."

"Lucas you are married." any sense of seriousness was immediately broken by the American's comment.

"Hey listen my Fuhrer, Debra doesn't mind where I rev my engine, just gotta park it in the right garage."

"You utter fucking degenerate." There was no time for tomfoolery however as Ulfric sighed once more and processed everything that had just happened. He could see his secretary shifting his weight from left to right, his eyes going from Lucas to him every few seconds. It was clear he wanted to say something.

"So… My Führer." Martin stepped in. "What is this... truly?"

"This, my dear Martin." he raised himself from his chair. "Is our ticket out of devastation."