-V-
Height D-55, Weißhorn Plain, Planet Felsenheim, Terminus Zone
"Things used to be far easier."
Field Marshal Josef Bittenfeld, commander of the 224th Maidenburg army, concluded in his fifth observation of the Tyranid's defense at Weißhorn with large periscope binoculars. Felsenheim was a small colony with huge mountain ranges spreading from north to south, creating fertile valleys where small rivers flow and a relatively pleasant climate. The high annual rainfall made the grasslands suitable for animal husbandry and spared farmers the expense of building water supplies, which was one of the many reasons why Felsenheim's neighbouring planet, Kapri-3, saw little attempt of colonization even after 400 years.
By its very nature a giant valley, Weißhorn offered enough space for several small cities with a population of two million and a rather impressive natural defense, which the Tyranids clearly took advantage of when transforming the plain into their largest base on Felsenheim. Two mountain ranges, Papagei and Martha, protected Weißhorn with two stone walls approximately 7,000 meters high, forcing the invader to throw all their resources into a predictable attack through an open area and expose themselves to firepower from well-fortified heights.
Even with major victories like the Nago belt, Atrox or Rothberg, Reichsmarschall Fahrenheit still warned his colleagues about the dangers of underestimating their enemy, and with what had happened since the 224th Army's first landing on this planet a week ago, once again, one of the greatest minds of the era proved wiser than the rest.
The enemy had not been defeated yet, it simply did what any army would do when suffering a few setbacks: Retreat, reorganize, and change tactics. Throughout the Weißhorn Plains existed a labyrinth of trenches, artificial caves, bunkers made of basalt, and a steel-hard biological material known as Biobeton, which was secreted by Terraforming organisms such as the Sporocysts during their production of biomass. Felsenheim 's Landwehr said that a small Tyranid hive fleet had landed on the planet and occupied Weißhorn a year after the Battle of Rothberg and then established zones of control throughout the North. The garrisons did everything they could to resist the invaders, but due to their limited resources, for the next two years, they could only launch small attacks and helplessly watch Tyranids turning Weißhorn into an impenetrable fortress, where their Breeding organisms found refuge underground, safe from the bombardment of the Kriegsmarine and the Luftwaffe.
"We should have been here last year." Lieutenant General Landrich von Honigberg gloomily commented before taking a long pull of Gauss. The smoke coming out of his mouth and nose matched the color of his beard, white as the first snowflakes of winter on Brunkesland, "They've had enough time to build artificial hills and anti-tank trenches."
About four kilometers northeast of the D-55 height were two unnaturally structured low hills perfect for military use. Their front was very steep with an incline of about 40 degrees or so while on the back the incline was only 10, and the distance between the two hills was close enough to create a deadly trap. The attacker would certainly be exposed to the incoming fire from the second hill when trying to climb the first, and if they intend to use the Blitzkrieg for a flank attack, the defense with antitank trenches and bunkers were difficult obstacles to overcome. Luftwaffe reconnaissance groups reported that there was a total of 34 hills and peaks like these two on the Weißhorn plain, but according to the Felsenheim topographic map 2800 edition, these things were nowhere to be found since the shelters planted their first crop.
"Sometimes we fight the battle we choose, but more than often it is shoved into our hands."
Josef said, hoping people would stop beating the dead horse right here and now. Like the other Reichswehr armies fighting in Eastern Terminus, 60% of the 224 Maidenburg Army's men and equipment were transported by the Turian navy, 50% of their supplies coming from the Centurii Confederacy or smaller territories, and in the history of brutal and prolonging wars, such dependence would always be a ticking time bomb. The sudden withdrawal of the Turian hierarchy from the coalition after Tyranids were driven back from Kernwel was a heavy blow to the 7 years plan which aimed to end the Tyranid threat for good, and as those cursed hammerhead aliens provoked the others to cease all supply lines after their demands for war reparations were denied, the anti-Tyranid coalition existed on paper only.
All Reichswehr campaigns after 2849 had to be rescheduled, causing all kinds of confusion and delays. Now everything, from simple thermal clips to Little Hans Super Cannons, had to be shipped from the Asari Republic or the Reich, making their supply lines twice as long and more complicated than expected. For every 10 Mass Relays, a transport vessel must be maintained to prolong the life of its engine. Even on the shortest route, there were 25 of those gigantic gateways so the only solution the Coalition had at hand was to build as many repair stations as possible but that was only before they realized that the repair stations too required both supplies and protection.
These new responsibilities fell on the Kriegsmarine, whose quality had gone down after many battles as their numbers were dwindling due to budget cuts. In the years 2847-2858, a medium-sized fleet was well capable of escorting and supporting the 224th Corps to capture a star system within a week, but now even the famed Schutzengel was struggling to gather enough warships and conduct a campaign on schedule.
"Those amateur defenses are no match for the German Panzer forces," declared Albert Rosenblum, 9th Maidenburg Panzer division commander. Due to his young age, his Panzeruniform was custom-made with the finest materials, his boots were still shiny after 100 km of marching, and his Luger with a Bondork ivory stock was always worn in the front for all to see." The attack should begin on the right flank, where the terrain is a bit flatter. " He told Josef "Once my division and Brock break through their lines and lure the Tyranids into an open battle, Luftwaffe and Kriegsmarine will rain fire and death on their reserves."
That was the advice Josef would have heeded if the 224th army was still the same army he had back on the Atrox. Fahrenheit had taken from him 30% of aircraft, 25 infantry divisions, 10 Panzer divisions, and 5 Panzergrenadier divisions to protect the Edenia cluster, a prize judged to be more important with 30 populated planets and highly productive mining colonies. It was a tactically sound decision and deserved no complaints but if only his subordinates thought the same. They started talking about how Fahrenheit favored generals who liked to lick his boots; they cursed Peter Blaustein and those who were deemed to be stabbing German soldiers in the back. And now, as the war on this planet had gone to a stalemate, criticism was directed at Josef, the commander who failed to protect his army.
However, those things were not what had been giving him sleepless nights lately. Josef Bittenfeld was no stranger to difficult battles and trouble-making subordinates. They were a kind of baggage that a German Field Marshal had to carry through his career but he couldn't say the same about secrets, conspiracies, knives in the dark, and betrayal.
"She killed your old friend, my field marshal, just as she killed Admiral Shepard with that innocent misinterpretation of orders. She had them killed for a reason so well-hidden that not a soul thought she had the motive to do the deed."
That was what Moritz Krauss told him last year when they met on planet Heisenberg to celebrate the end of the 4th Galactic War while the artillery fires could still be heard somewhere in Terminus Zone (Many Germans really thought the war was over if it had taken place in the Terminus Zone, far from Kernwelt and the Imperial heartland). Among the field commanders of the Reichswehr, Krauss was known for his integrity, truthfulness, and no-nonsense attitude. If he thought Martin Steinbauer did not die of natural causes, there was a good chance that Josef's senior did not have a heart attack during a duck hunting trip.
Still, Josef wondered what he could do if that was the truth. This responsibility rested with the police forces and civilian government, not a military man. Prussian generals don't let themselves be involved in politics. One of many legends of the Reichswehr, Erwin Rommel, had said so when he turned down the post of War Minister and centuries later, Augustin von Lohengramm also said the same thing to the Reichskanzlers. The wise precedents of his predecessors had spared the Reich from rogue military commanders and pointless civil wars, but Josef feared that even worse things could happen if he continued to keep his silence.
"We will conduct some probing attack first. I want to see how amateurish this amateur defense is." He told von Honigberg and Rosenblum. The Panzer commander, of course, would not be pleased with this decision even though he never dared to say it outright, so Josef was quick to add, "The 9th and 28th Panzer Divisions are allowed to make a limited breakthrough on the right flank. The spearheads should be no more than 20km from our main front line."
"Success must be reinforced by success." von Honigberg gently reminded him, "Half-hearted efforts often get nowhere."
"So does risky offensive," Josef replied and pulled the collar of his trench coat up a little bit. From the north, dark clouds curled up like a ferocious python with silver veins. Soon, heavy rain would sweep across this plain and turn the soil under the panzer's tracks into the mud. "Come to think of it, the spearheads should not be more than 10 kilometers from the front line. I don't want to start the battle with a rescue." He motioned for Major General Meyendorff, chief liaison officer of the 224th Army, to approach, "Inform commanders at battalion level and above that I want to increase reconnaissance on the enemy lines. Their autonomy will be restricted until receiving further notice from my HQ. Any attack involving two or more battalions must be approved by me first."
Josef then climbed down to the summit via a rather steep stone stairway, half of which had been washed away by stormwater hundreds of years after they were built. In some parts, he had to use his field marshal baton and calculate every step with great concern to avoid falling, but in the end, his assistants and bodyguards had to intervene, preventing their commander from injuring himself before the battle. began. As he reached the foot of the height, Josef looked up and realized that the path was not as steep or treacherous as he thought.
It's just me getting old.
At the age of 136, Josef already had two heart transplants and if he remembered correctly, his body had at least 70 Nano machines implanted directly into the blood vessels, vital organs for controlling blood pressure and sugar levels. His pelvis was now all alloy and plastic, and the left arm that was lost during the Great War was replaced with an organic product made by Cerberus but as Josef got older, the new left arm for some reason slowly got weaker than the old right arm. After the conference in Sur'kesh and peace was restored, he often woke up with terrible pain in his bones every morning, as if he had participated in a long march last night and the war had never ended. Consequences of a high-pressure lifestyle, wise doctors have concluded, and on their sincere advice, a wise person should retire early to enjoy a long, healthy life.
"Retirement? What am i going to do after giving up my baton and uniform? Gardening perhaps?"
Martin always thought it was a stupid idea and declared that he would die while still a Field Marshal. He was 15 years older than Josef and had a much more stressful life.
Could it be as simple as that? Martin had the death he ever wanted, and the hatred for the Asari had led Moritz Krauss to a wrong conclusion. The thought troubled him until the heavy bulletproof doors of his Feldkommando Haunebu (Small flying saucer designed for high ranking officer) were opened by a young, dark-haired lieutenant.
"The city of Legagham and the surrounding areas are under enemy artillery fire, Field Marshal." The lieutenant quickly reported to him. He had a soft voice and at times it sounded like a whisper. "General von Baden advised you to postpone your visit until the situation is stabilized. Artillery and air reconnaissance units with counter-fire missions were dispatched at the request of General von Baden. The chief of staff considers this is a good opportunity to test the enemy's reaction."
And perhaps the Tyranids were up to the same thing. Legaham where Josef's army could be cut in two and hence 250,000 men from the 10 best divisions and 5 Foot Guard regiments were dispatched to hold a 200 km front. Behind them were rapid respond brigades, separated heavy Panzer regiments, ready to repel any breakthrough with iron fists. Indeed, he had high hope for another Kaiserstadt, but the days when the bugs were so easily lured into such a trap had long gone. After the battle of Rothberg, field commanders were well aware of a clear decrease in Tyranid suicide attacks as two opposing forces began to switch roles. Now the Germans were forced to attack to take back occupied planets while the bugs would make them pay for every centimeter of territory. An annoying, time-consuming kind of warfare that Josef always tried to avoid, especially when his enemies didn't need to sleep, eat, or understand the concept of surrender.
"Anything else?"
"The Luftwaffe has increased air patrols at your request, but they say that if such a mission is maintained for too long, the effectiveness of their fire support will decrease." He nodded slightly, "And... your private detective, monsieur Gilbert Cormier had sent monthly reports via private message."
"What did he say?"
"The target had left Neiers a year before he came and all trace lead to the Castor star system and Alpha K'ania. He said he would continue with the investigation and report on new developments."
She was moving away from the heart of the Empire and heading toward the eastern provinces. Josef wondered what this meant. That red-haired woman had chosen the worst possible time to approach him on Weiben. Three years after the Battle of Eden, the fear of Genestealer and their disinformation campaign did not allow a field marshal to believe anyone who claimed that Admiral Shepard had been murdered and that the perpetrator was none other than the person who had saved the Reich from a disaster, Benezia T'soni. Should have been harsher and locked her up instead of treating her like a madwoman. At least, if he had done so, her name and fingerprints would still be in the archives of Weiben Police and Monsieur Cormier's job would probably be much simpler because of that.
12 years have passed and the woman has mingled with the crowd on Helmut 5th Ave and almost disappeared from the system. According to the French detective, she changed her name several times, stayed away from big cities, avoided buildings equipped with security cameras, used cash only, and acted as if she was hiding from someone. A gangster she stole money from, perhaps? An abusive husband who refused to sign the divorce papers? Benezia T'soni? All seemed possible to Josef until Cormier found out who she really was.
"You didn't tell anyone about this, did you, Kaidan?" he asked.
"Wha…sir…I…" The lieutenant's face turned pale, his black eyes as wide as two chicken eggs. Either Kaidan was really loyal to him or a great actor, "Never, Marshal. Even under death threats, I won't say a word."
Josef chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, "I'm just joking, lad. If you had been a man like that, you would have let me die out there back then."
It was a pity that he could do nothing to reward Kaidan Alenko's heroic attempt other than the rank of lieutenant. If the one who was saved was Martin then maybe things would be brighter for the lad, but it didn't mean Josef would give up trying. Kaidan was now an officer in his Wachbattalion (Field Marshal's personal Guard), always allowed to accompany his commander to every meeting, big or small, where he would have the opportunity to learn from the best, hone his leadership skills for the next opportunity sure to arise. Soldiers couldn't be held accountable for the general's decisions any more than a son could be blamed for his father's guilt. In a way, Josef Bittenfeld found himself agreeing with Peter Blaustein that some traditions, some views long existed within their Reich needed to be altered, especially as they often led to heartbreaking stories on the Montagsonne (A news outlet)
"Tell the driver we're going back to Russendorf." He told Kaidan as the first drops of rain fell on the waterproof layer of his cap. "This is enough for today."
-V-
Under the cobalt night sky of Felsenheim, Josef Bittenfeld realized why his soldiers called the two artificial hills Jungfrauenmeise and Frauenmeise. During the day, they didn't look that much different, but at night, one was noticeably taller and pointier while the other was chunky and round. In the original plan, the 18th Foot Guard regiment, 356th Infantry regiment, and 2nd Wachbattalion under Josef's command would attack and take Frauenmeise but then Landrich von Honigberg suggested swapping the target on the grounds that his wife might get jealous if he was too comfortable with young ladies.
"A kind-hearted unmarried man like you is the desire of many virgins." Said the commander of the 5th Maidenburg Fallschimjager, "However, a woman will value experience and endurance more than character."
That was not entirely incorrect. Josef had met such a woman 80 years ago. She was a war widow who had just gone through her two-year mourning and he was still a young lieutenant, eager to return to the battlefield after a long convalescence, always had the mood for Drei Lilien after his third pint of beer. A love story as beautiful as a Hammersmark novel they had there, but the one who had the honor of putting a ring on her slender finger was a widower 30 years her senior, the owner of a Repairs and Maintenance harbor in the civilian sector. Josef had no complaints about the decision. He couldn't give her a vacation to another star system on a ship where she had her own room and breakfast in bed, and black cloth really didn't suit her pinky-white skin during the season of the sun. At that time, the 4th Great Galactic War was entering its fiercest stage and even Josef understood that he could die at any time.
"It's close enough, Field marshal."
Warned Kaidan quietly as Josef and 10 of his personal bodyguards reached the heart of the 356th Regiment's offensive formation. Jungfrauenmeise was about 1.5 km away from them, still sturdy, large, and quite intact after 5 days of continuous Little Hans bombardment, contrary to all expectations of a spectacular collapse. Military engineers believed that the artificial hills were not simply made of soil and rock, but must be specially designed with more durable materials to withstand hundreds of 855mm shells.
If their speculation was correct then this was no doubt a tactical challenge for the 224th army.
The indestructible heights provided artillery-like creatures such as Exocrine and Biovore with a wider range of fire, safe haven from counter-battery, advantages that caused Albert Rosenblum's armored flanking attack to end pre-mature. 5km was all that the arrogant Panzer general could achieve before his Panzers were halted by long-range anti-tank fire, Panzergrenadier units were crippled by the heavy artillery barrage, no longer able to exploit the weak points on the defense system. Little Hans bombardment was the backup plan Josef had prepared in case Rosenblum failed his objective, but now, it seemed that the battle would be decided by traditional infantry assault.
Some of his generals, due to obvious distaste for heavy casualties, had urged him to prolong the bombardment with Kriegsmarine's batteries and Junker heavy Bombers, but Josef adamantly refused. Tyranid was quite confident in their terrain advantage and hence had poured more troops to protect the heights, a move he had been long waiting for them to take.
"Soldiers need to see their commanders not afraid or cower in the face of danger." He told the young lieutenant, "They've heard a lot about my bravery, and now, they need proof."
Kaidan Alenko didn't seem convinced, "With all due respect, the enemy is having a prize for your head, Field marshal. I don't believe for a second that the Lictor we encountered on Rothberg picked a random hoverwagen to attack. It live under a rock for nearly two weeks after its brethren withdrew, waiting for your rear units to think is was safe enough to advance. It was a pre-planned assassination in every sense."
Josef Bittenfeld smiled in contentment. The lad had chosen to speak his mind instead of flattery, " If there's a Lictor stalking me here, I shouldn't be that worried right, Kaidan? You already killed one so why not use this opportunity to get another trophy?" Josef waved his hand and motioned to Lothar, the quiet old square-chinned sergeant who had followed him since the late General Roland Kantorowicz thought his diligence and patience deserved the rank of lieutenant colonel to step up. "Bring Snow White up here."
A beautiful creature was carefully selected from the Donner horse breed on the great steppes of the Apasia-Hobeck, given to Josef as a gift at the end of the Great War. In the twilight and the drizzling rain, the warhorse with its silver mane was like a strangely bright brush mark on the dull gray canvas. Intentionally, it strides forward proudly with its head held high, attracting all the attention of the lower life forms, whether they were friends or foes, whether they looked at it with admiration or just wanted to tear it to pieces.
Long gone were the days of cavalry regiments tearing apart enemy lines with thunderous charges, but horses could still find a place in the interstellar armies of the 29th century. Orders given on horseback were worth five times more than usual, so said Augustin Albiker, the infamous strategist of the Reichswehr five centuries ago, and truth be told, Josef's recent experience could be counted as a testament to the Red Fox of Frye's wisdom. Snow White masked Josef's old age and fatigue, causing the tall and strong officers to look up when speaking to him, and his poor aging legs to say thank you for not having to stand for hours in Reichswehr's yearly ceremonies. The aliens too were quick to realize the magnificence of these four-legged creatures after their brief contact with the Reich in the 25th century, and since the Germans were strangely generous with the use of horses as diplomatic gifts, many new hybrids were born. With cutting-edge genomics science, the Salarians introduced to the Galaxy an impressively intelligent and highly resilient brown pony called the Phobos. The Asari created an all-female breed named Rasha with the ability to strengthen the Biotic shield for its rider's protection. The Hierarchy's generals and Primarchs preferred Fabianus, tall, loyal, and docile stallion whose backkicks could break the skull of a Krogan warrior.
"Tell everyone to get ready, Alenko," Josef told the lad as he was firmly seated on the horse's back, his hand gently pulling the reins backward. Snow White immediately snorted, showing defiance since it wanted to continue forward. "When the first light shows itself, we will send those freaks to hell burning and screaming."
When the first light of the fifth day shows itself, the rain will stop. This was the conclusion stated in the Luftwaffe's meteorological report after Josef expressed his intention to form offensive formations and launch frontal assaults on 34 heights within 48 hours. This hasty and noisy preparation gave many of his general's great concern as it seemed that the Tyranid was well aware of their intentions. The number of hideous creatures in their defenses had increased significantly and the shelling on Legaham had stopped was the alarming sign of the enemy determining to dig in, ready to receive the incoming attack in a proper manner, and what awaited the 224th Army ahead was nothing but a giant meat grinder.
A well-founded concern that needed to be tackled, but the thing was Field marshal Bittenfeld couldn't risk revealing the whole plan to anyone except himself. The threat posed by Genestealer remained an issue, even though the infiltrators mainly appeared among mid-level officers and below. The fact that Governor Dominic Keiner had been manipulated by the Tyranid, complicit in the worst terrorist attack in the Reich's history was still a horrible memory haunting the German public till this very day, so it was no surprise that a purge judged to be even more extreme than the 2739 Incident was carried out right after the Battle of Eden. All generals, planetary governors, ministers of departments, even the Reichskanzler and Crown Prince Maximillian were required to undergo a mandatory medical examination under the supervision of Totenkopf Kommando or Abteilung 14 to ensure Genestealer's parasite had no chance to survive in the Reich's top leadership.
10% of the planet's budget must be invested in local security forces, thousands of new entry criteria had been put in place to prevent terrorists from moving from planet to planet. The death penalty was applied to all Genestealer subjects regardless of gender, position, and… age. Hanah Schwann, a 10-year-old resident of Yannicksburg was arrested while recruiting troops for her Leader Purii, and despite the protest spreading to 5 neighboring star systems, the cry of child protection organizations in every media outlet, billions of signatures collected, her death sentence would be carried out in four months.
Too extreme? Josef didn't think people were wrong to reach that conclusion, but the Reich Security Council also had hills to stand for every tiny coffin. With just a small mistake, another Kristalhalle could happen, million could die in a planet-scale rebellion. With just a little concession, Josef would have more to regret than pointless arguments with his peers. For the record, this was how wars were waged since the dawn of time anyway. Battles brought challenges different from each other in every turn and too often for one's liking, a commander found the troublemakers sharing the trench with him.
"All units are in position." He heard Major General Meyendorff's voice on the main line of communication, solemn and informative, "They are waiting for your orders."
The engines of the Junker 805 'Elefant', Donnervogel, Feuerfalke squadrons could be heard before their blurry silhouettes revealed themselves between the dark clouds. As he predicted, the hills were instantly lit up by anti-aircraft fire from Oberi batteries, a new type of living weapon introduced by the Tyranids recently. They were about the same size as the Wisent IFVs, but slower and equipped with strong anti-aircraft firepower. Six launchers made of bones and horns on a single platform could shoot hundreds of mini Spores into the air and explode at a certain height, creating an acid fog that was deadly to any aircraft. After this new type of anti-aircraft defense became widely used in 2848, the Luftwaffe grew more cautious when it came to fire support missions and till this very day, they still had not figured out why the Oberi was capable of detecting stealth bombers Sturmkrahe.
The organization and reaction speed of the enemy was impressive, Josef had to admit, but unfortunately for them, the efforts did not yield a better crop. The Luftwaffe squadrons suffered little damage from anti-aircraft nets since their ceiling today was higher than usual and the dumb ammunition they carried didn't require complicated maneuvers, precision, or minimal distance to be effective. If Tyranid had a battlefield commander like the 224th army, he would be scratching his head, wondering about the motivation behind this assault. Little Hans' projectiles proved useless against their artificial heights, and hence this bombardment was nothing but rain falling on rocks. There would be millions of casualties for the Bugs, of course. But hundreds of millions more Termagant, Hormagaunt, Tyranid Warrior and Ravener could find safe haven inside the complex tunnel system and wait for the infantry assault that would inevitably follow.
The little human called himself Field marshal is desperate.
Somewhere out there, Josef's imaginary rival, a villainous black-armored Hive Tyrant, was laughing haughtily and thinking of the bio-mass feasts it would have. Keep your laugh and mockery, you devil, and soon you'll have a meal that you never forget.
At 4:30 a.m. Earth time, the last drops of rain fell on the Weißhorn plain as the western sky turned orange. The first rays of the new day like flaming spears pierced through the thin veil of the night, making the top of Jungfrauenmeise look like it was on fire until…it literally was on fire. The gifts that Luftwaffe brought didn't contain explosives only, but also phosphorus, napalm, and a liquified fossil fuel called gasoline, which generated so much heat that the air in the bombardment's area was consumed alongside flesh and bones.
Feuersturm doctrine was entirely formulated for this situation. When the enemy relied on solid defenses, tunnels, and favorable terrain to impede Reichswehr's advance, incendiary munitions would be used to the fullest extent to make them rethink their strategy. This was the third time Josef deployed this doctrine in his career and by the look of it, also the most successful. His Asari, Turian, and Salarian rivals during the war preferred fluid defense to static defense, and a clever one like Strategos Selarys would no doubt wonder why Josef launched useless probing attacks, time-wasting bombardments in the last two weeks while better options were available.
Fortunately, the Hive mind was not Selarys nor this Tyranid horde was a Semitas legion (an ancient name given to the Asari army, dating back to the Asari Empire Era). The Tyranid, the single conscious space-faring species that made all galaxy's major powers stand side by side in a military coalition, was a strange enemy that existed in a paradox. They were innovative and competent, yet at the same time, short-sighted and primitive. It was obvious that the Hive mind was subtle and capable enough to conduct maneuvering warfare like the Reichswehr, but in the end, it had chosen a more instinctual strategy, building its army on overwhelming numbers and countermeasures. His Salarian peers assumed this was typical behavior of invasive nomads species and no more question should be asked, but anyone who had spent fifteen years fighting the bugs from planet to planet would say such a conclusion was hasty and lacking.
"All targets have been hit, Marshal." Kaidan reported excitedly, his index finger resting on the earpiece, "The Luftwaffe says the bombardment would be over in five minutes. Divisional commanders are sending requests to proceed with the assault."
Will a second bombardment be needed? Josef Bittenfeld wondered as he looked up at Jungfrauenmeise again. The height looked like a giant torch, covered from top to bottom with an orange flame and above, white phosphorus bombs exploded into deadly glowing snowflakes, falling down on the heads of those Tyranid was trying to escape from the tunnels due to the lack of oxygen. Even here he could hear the screams of hundreds of thousands of mouths đie burning in the inferno and smell the distinctive smell of burnt Tyranid flesh. It was a horrible sight that offended a gentleman's senses, but Josef wouldn't deny the fact that his hands were shaking with excitement. Battle fever, the addictive drug that no soldier could resist, from the private who just joined the 224th Maidenburg Army a year ago to the man who had considered it his home for the past 80 years. Across the plains, the cry of victory echoed and replaced the waves that were always absent in the sea of grass, urging but at the same time, waiting for the order about to be given.
"Blut und Stahl. Blut und Stahl. Blut und Stahl"
The time has come. Procrastination is failure. Now or never.
"This is Field Marshal Bittenfeld. Your request has been approved." He activated the Omni-tool and pressed his thumb into the 'Proceed' box of today's battle order. "The enemy now knows the taste of the German flame, lads. Now let them experience German courage and German steel. Forward to victory. No mercy, no prisoners."
The battle that was later called the Scramble for Jungfrauenmeise , was rather boring from a tactical perspective. As Josef had expected, a small number of Tyranid warriors were still alive after the bombardment and quickly gathered their minions into separate pockets of resistance. That was the kind of decision Josef would give some credit to, but not sending a horde of Hormagaunts to slow down the advance of the 356th Infantry Regiment on the western side. With its flanks supported by Wisent IFV and Grenadier companies armed with flamethrowers, shotgun at the center of the formation, the regiment quickly turned Tyranid's local counterattack into a massacre.
However, he could deny that Tyranids were running out of options as their defenses were essentially disconnected, and on the eastern flank, the 18th Foot Guard Regiment and the 2nd Wachbattalion were advancing at breakneck speed, smashing all resistance they met along the way. Among the elite infantry formations of the Reichswehr, Foot Guards could be seen as the Tyranid's natural enemy. Due to their bestial instincts and ferocious nature, the bugs developed a particular fondness for close engagements where they could inflict most damage as the opponent's formation fell into disarray, but Foot Guard refused to give them that advantage. With better equipment, perfect discipline, and about 30% of their troops being biotic operators of level B- and above, these proud boys were able to hold their ground and battle the Tyranid infantry to the last man. And when attacking, the Forlorn Hope (German Biotic Vanguard), Zornträger (German Biotic destroyer) even impressed the Asari Commandos with their masterful skills, so in order to have a chance, Tyranid was forced to send the best breed available.
Once he was sure that the enemy had committed more troops to the east side, Josef ordered his two elite regiments to halt their advance and hold on to the newly captured positions. Like an experienced boxer who rarely delivered the finishing blow with his right hand, a battlefield commander would never let the enemy know where the danger was coming from. The Guard's objective was not to capture the peak, but to keep the enemy's best units busy on the slope for 2 hours, just enough time for the 356th Infantry Regiment to terminate every disconnected pocket of resistance, destroying those Oberi surviving the bombardment, allowing Junkers Maultier and Armored Hanerbu (Military Transport Saucer) to approach Jungfrauenmeise with ammunition and reinforced Fallschirmjäger on board.
At noon, the battle was unofficially over. The western side and the peak of the Jungfrauenmeise had fallen, forcing the Tyranid infantry on the eastern side to retreat up north under artillery fire to avoid complete annihilation. It was gonna be a costly retreat, no doubt. Aside from anti-tank missions and precision bombing, Luftwaffe's Stuka squadrons wished nothing more than preying on a routing enemy, disordered and confused.
"Our troops have controlled 28 out of 34 peaks according to the 1300 report from the general staff. We are still contesting for six tactical heights, but it is only a matter of time before they fall."
The news was brought by Kaidan alongside Josef's lunch; Tuna sandwich with cabbage and olives, some strawberry candies, and black tea in a plastic cup. Unlike his friend Martin, whose every meal was a feast, Josef's rations often came out of a can and were served on horseback. People tended to look into this and praised a stoic Field Marshal and a humble and dutiful officer, but they could never know that their hero was rarely interested in anything other than war, not even money and women.
Now even war begins to tire me out. When he woke up this morning, he thought of gardens and a noble widow to keep him company for the years he still had.
"Casualties?" The field marshal asked before taking a large bite of sandwich. "Real numbers. I don't want to hear something vague and flattering."
"Of course, sir." Kaidan replied with a smile, his fingers dancing on the screen of the datapad, "356th Regiment, 773 dead, 1692 wounded, 60 missing. 18th Foot Guard, 257 dead, 1200 wounded, 32 missing. Our Wachbattalion suffered light casualties, 34 dead, 60 wounded. Major Straussler lost a leg to a Ravener who emerged from an underground tunnel. Ritterkreuzträger Kleist was wounded when leading an assault on the second Bunker system. He was evacuated to a local hospital afterward but had succumbed to his injuries on the way."
Hahn Kleist. It was I who gave him the Knight's cross and the title of Ritterkreuzträger 35 years ago. A man of few words and rather strange with a hobby of collecting Salarian musical instruments and Asari carpets, but his talent and courage never needed to be questioned. Veterans of the Great War were a dying species. Josef had heard someone say that somewhere, and although such a thing was inevitable, he still felt like there was a needle in his stomach every time the topic was brought up.
"All units in action today report a 5 to 8 percent casualty rate." Kaidan continued, "Our men suffered more casualties in the Legaham sector like you have predicted. Considering the concentration of enemy forces in the center and two of the six heights that are yet to be captured are in Lagaham, the General Staff estimates the casualty rate can be up to 12 by this evening. It's still a golden number given we are attacking heavily fortified positions."
Josef Bittenfeld snorted. If he had decided to repay the man who saved his life, perhaps the first thing to do was let him be free of von Streckenbach's nonsense.
"Kaidan, if you were one of those people lying dead on that hill, what percentage would it be for your mother? 20, 50, or 100?"
"Field marshal, I...i don't mean..."
"Of course, you don't mean it. You just said it out loud." Pointed out Josef, "Don't ever put your trust in someone just because he has a higher rank than you, a 'Von' in his name, or calls himself a scholar and thinks he knows what war is. Those who wrote about von Streckenbach's genius have never spoken to the real von Streckenbach, never met Streckenbach in flesh and bone, but I did."
"Yes sir, I will do as you command. You're always right on such matter."
"I just told you…" The marshal sighed dejectedly and decided to save the lecture for another time. Kaidan Alenko was no fool but his sin-born obedience caused him sometimes behave more like a droid than a human in an irritating way,"Tell Ulrich to send his Sturmpioneers up to Jungfrauenmeise and deal with the remaining Tyranids in the tunnel system. I want the height to be secured by nightfall."
"Right away, sir."
"Tell the pilot to set a route to Lagaham. And bring me my armor." Perhaps the casualty rate could be a bit lower had he arrived at the scene and oversaw the battle. Local commanders wouldn't be too pleased by this. Generally, no one likes people sticking noses in their business, but Josef found no differences here. Sooner or later they'd blame him for everything, so it wouldn't do more harm if he was hated right now. "Don't look at me like that, Kaidan. There is no safe cover on the battlefield and a true German officer will not shy away from the danger of leading his men."
Or if he was unlucky enough to die in battle, there was no need to bother himself with retirement plans, and for the record, a planetary funeral was an honor second only to marrying a princess. Perhaps Martin was right after all. People like them were never compatible with gardening or peace, and perhaps it was best for a soldier to remain a blade of grass on long-forgotten battlefields.
"What is it now?"
A call was transferred to Josef's Omni-tool as Kaidan struggled to help him put on the Infanterie-Kürass model 2755, a design unfamiliar to nowadays generation of soldiers. The call came from Major General Meyendorff and tagged with 'Emergency', which was never a good sign so Josef Bittenfeld had to take a deep breath before hitting the 'Accept' button.
"If this is about Lagaham then I will be there in an hour," Josef said.
"No, sir. Reichsmarschall Fahrenheit wants a word with you."
"That's for later. Tell him I'll be in touch after all objectives are captured."
"Reichsmarschall Fahrenheit has arrived in the star system yesterday, sir. As we speak, his shuttle is entering Felsenheim's orbit."
-V-
During the reception party at the red-roofed manor that the Felsenheim government lent Josef as a temporary headquarters, he was once again reminded of why old Martin hated Grünblatt (Green Leaves) that much. At the age of 110, Cornelius von Fahrenheit still looked young, handsome, accomplished, and was lucky with the ladies on a level Martin had spent his life striving for and failed. In this man, one could feel a sense of wisdom, gallantry, and proper manners of the ancient noble blood, the magic that made gentlemen listen to every word he said with the utmost attention, while the ladies' hearts melted by his charming smiles and platinum hair. Many years ago, when the galaxy was still engulfed in the flames of the Great War and von Fahrenheit just had his first division to command, Josef had already seen a great tactician in the making. But of course, Martin did not agree with this assessment of his.
"Such people are like the green leaves of spring, which will soon wither and fall at the first sight of winter."
Turns out, that green leaf was still green, Martin Steinbauer had fallen, and the one who felt old and withered was Josef. Fortunately, his old friend did not live long enough to see his rival declare victory with a glass of champagne in hand, two beautiful noble ladies sitting on either side and surrounded by an army of fans. It was a pointless war, he had told Martin many times, but never explained why. Perhaps it was because he was afraid that someone's pride would be hurt and as a result, more fuel would be added to the fire. As nature had dictated, the real king of the jungle never got himself bothered by the jealousy of lesser creatures, and in this petty rivalry, even the blind could tell who the aggressor was. The winner and loser were clear at the beginning, but Josef had let cowardice prevail and hence Martin had been throwing his fist at the sun for 60 years.
"And to call it a day in high spirit, I suggest everyone raise a toast to our brave Field Marshal, Josef Bittenfeld, for a brilliant victory he has today" von Fahrenheit declared, "Isn't this a prime example of the Prussian humility? A hero who always sits silently at the party, never bothering with glory or recognition, hoping that people will soon forget his achievement?"
Hundreds of Asari-made purple crystal glasses were raised in a dancing melody of clinking sounds and forced smiles. Are they feeling ashamed for ignoring me for two hours? he wondered with amusement as he stood up with a smaller and simpler cup in hand.
"Reichsmarschall has mistaken. It's just I'm too drunk to remember any of them."
A burst of laughter followed the joke. A square-chined young Captain dashing in his dark green uniform began the toast, his silver insignia and lace turning into gold in the yellowish light from the grand chandelier.
"For 224th Maidenburg. For Victory."
"For the brave and gallant men of the Reichswehr." One of the beauties sitting beside the Reichsmarschall shouted. The lady's dress had the color of the night sky, deep blue and sparkled with glitter. Her pouffe hair was studded with white feathers and it looked like she went out wearing a bird's nest. Josef didn't know much about women's fashion, but it seemed to him that this 'avian style' was trending in the Terminus Zone as this wasn't the first time he had seen it appear at important events. Many ladies brought their feathers to the party tonight. Some arranged them into a kind of crown with the feathers shooting out from the back of the head and reminding Josef of the peacock, a creature native to Earth whom the Asari considered the 'Queen of the Birds'.
"For Vaterland. For Kaiser Friedrich. May God grant him health and victory."
Someone in the crowd shouted but the much-awaited enthusiasm never came and when Prince Maximillian's name was mentioned, the reaction could be seen as lame. People often blamed the incumbent Kaiser for the disappointing outcome of the Great War, and in some aspects, they were perfectly entitled to do so. Josef often disagreed with his Highness over the conduct of the war before coming to a conclusion that their Empire was cursed when Crown Prince Septimus perished too soon. His brother Friedrich was not as cowardly or inept as some would like to believe, but extreme caution was never an acceptable attribute in a wartime monarch. Still, it would also be unjust to deny tthat their Kaiser had tried his best with the cards given to him and that the Germans had foolishly jumped into a fight they couldn't hope to win. If this were simply another border dispute with the Batarians, history would have been kinder to Friedrich XVII.
"For our Habsburg prince. May his good deeds won't go unsung and unnoticed."
The toast was received well by half of the guests, most of them were men of the frontier, straightforward and disgruntled with the decline of the Reich's influence. The other half, older and wiser, chose a quieter celebration because even though Earth was millions of light-years away, treasonous words wouldn't go unpunished.
Josef could only sigh in silence at what was laid before him and felt dreadful about things awaiting them in the future. In the stories of old, loyal subjects had always stood bravely by their liege lords to victory or death, but now all they spoke of was usurping and treason. Sometimes people wondered who was really responsible for the mess but never found a satisfying answer. For a long time, von Streckenbach and his attempt to capture Thessia were a favorite of Josef, but as he got older, he thought about lost battles in his career and put the blame on himself.
"For men who have fallen today and those before them." Josef said, raising his glass, "May peace reign in our Reich. May the men be faithful and brave, and women be virtuous and humble."
At least no one could find a reason to disagree with this toast, but instead, a necessary sensitivity to realize that the party was over and it was time to go home. The repetition of shaking hands and thanking ladies and gentlemen for their presence was then assigned to von Fahrenheit. Nominally, Josef was the host, but there was no doubt that the Reichsmarschall was what drew Felsenheim's high society so close to the front. Besides, the one-time golden boy of the Reich was more suitable for the task than Josef anyways. Martin once said his stoicism was like poison to any party and though it was possible for him to list the dates, locations and commanders of the battles large and small the Reichswehr had participated in the last 500 years, Josef always found it hard to remember the names of people he just met a few hours ago. For the reasons of convenience and inconvenience mentioned above, after a solemn farewell with the planetary governor and his wife, the commander of the 224th Maidenburg quietly retired to the small reading room on the second floor of the mansion and wait.
"Let them think this is just an ordinary inspection." Reichsmarschall said to Josef, "I'll have a word with you later. In private."
von Fahrenheit thought he owed an explanation for the unusual visit, but in fact, it was an apology. For that reason, Josef kept his silence most of the time, letting his superior make a fool of himself with the lengthy speech before realizing how fruitless it was.
"How did you know?" von Fahrenheit asked, half disappointed and half amused. "I think I'm very good at being discreet."
"You are. But I wasn't born yesterday either. I can see signs and connect dots better than you think, Reichsmarschall." Grünblatt never liked defensive operations nor needed so many men to get the job done. Once he realized resources could be used for an attack, the Reichsmarschall would definitely choose to attack because, according to him, the attack itself was defense. "You robbed me off my divisions, gave escort duties to a fleet with insufficient means of transports and, by doing so, delayed the war on this planet. I think I'm well deserved to know why."
Robbed you off? Give me a break, Josef. I'm just borrowing your stuff for the time being."
"Call it what you want, but please find a better word for shooting your fellow Field marshal in the foot."
Grünblatt hesitated, sighed, and pulled his chair closer to him. For the first time this evening, Josef could see Reichsmarschall's true age. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and almost half of his hair had a different kind of white. Their Grünblatt was aging, as was Josef, as was everyone else.
"The decision has been made in Berlin." The man said, "Our war against the Tyranids will end in July, and a year later Citadel will announce the dissolution of the coalition"
For a moment, Josef did not understand what he had just heard. Their enemies were still out there, their claws sharp, and in the forgotten dark corners of the galaxy, they spent day and night rebuilding their force. How could the Reich claim victory in such a situation?
"They can't be serious! Our men are still fighting and dying here. The war..."
"…technically is over after the Battle of Rothberg. In the mind of the political establishment, this is a fact that everyone should buy into." Reichsmarschall pointed out, "Once Kernwelt is safe from Tyranid attacks, any campaign in the Terminus Zone is deemed to be too costly. Sending a small army wouldn't get anything done. Sending a larger one means the Kriegsmarine to re-equip its fleets, build more warships, and Reichswehr to form more fresh divisions. You do understand that our new budget doesn't allow that, do you not?"
"The enemy hasn't attacked yet because they still don't have the ability to do so. The keyword here is 'yet'. If we give the Tyranids time and space to breathe, the bugs will return one day. Has anyone mentioned that to our Reichskanzler?'
"Oberkommando has been begging the Reichstag for 2 years as far as i know. The Imperial Security Council submitted a secret memo last week, and Bastian Jost even threatened to resign but to no avail. The bleak financial reports, the protests, the strikes, and the civil unrest cast a shadow over everything and made our government into a house of rabbits. Even with the Duke's support, I can only secure the Reichswehr presence in Edenia Cluster for another 50 years on condition that the local planets will pay to maintain the garrison from their own pocket."
Josef grimaced. The Edenia Cluster was a large, rich, and densely populated region in Terminus Zone, but it did not include Felsenheim nor the 64 human colonies that had or had not declared allegiance to the Reich.
"We can't simply give up everything," Growled Josef. "Those planets are our territory paid by blood and sweat. Their inhabitants are your fellow Germans, our fellow men. If we leave them to their fate…"
"…then there will be someone who welcomes them with open arms." Reichsmarschall interrupted him, "Someone with the resources and a better geographical position to secure his possessions in the seemingly boundless Terminus Zone."
Josef blinked, confused by Grünblatt's words, "Who..Don't tell me..."
"In the past fifteen years, for every ten bullets that leave the barrel, five are paid for by either the Citadel, the Salarians, the Asari Republic or the Volus bank, and damn bad luck gives us an enemy so numerous and hard to kill like Tyranid." Reichsmarschall smiled but his eyes did not, "We manage to drive them out of Kernwelt and preserve the Edenia Cluster. Now is the time to pay the bills."
Hadn't they already done that? Billions of lives had been lost and hundreds of planets were devastated. "At least 10,000 families lost someone on Felsenheim this morning. Their blood still hasn't dried on the ground but now you say that their sacrifices are meaningless, that all the efforts and dedication are to secure a prize for the squids and the gray-skinned alien? How can I tell my people that? How can I ever look them in the eye again?"
"Those things wouldn't have happened if you just sat still for once in your life." His voice suddenly became harsher, "Do you really think I'm so heartless to watch German blood spilled for a planet that will sooner or later belong to the Asari or Salarian? All measures to prevent that from happening have been taken, including finding excuses to delay the campaign and not providing you with enough troops." Grünblatt sighed, "Of all my Field marshals, I thought you were the one who would call in reinforcements and wait. But it's clear that I was wrong."
"I am a soldier of the Reichswehr and it is my duty to defeat the enemy by any means possible." Josef calmly pointed out. "You should have told me sooner."
"They didn't tell me outright about selling the colonies either. Like you, I see the signs and connect the dots." The Reich's greatest hero lazily raised up and walked over to the Tannberg fireplace, a luxury piece of furniture with tulip petals made of heat-resistant gold coiled together in small circles. In the twilight, his white Reichsmarschall uniform and hair seemed to blend into the flame. "Now the ship has sailed into the Relay and, as the saying goes, it's not a good idea to think about women you didn't marry. I will accept full responsibility for this failure. The campaign on Felsenheim is to be canceled in a week since the progress does not meet Oberkommando's expectations, but the 224th Army as well as its commander are commended for bravery in the face of adverse conditions. "
"Berlin will slam you with a hammer, Cornelius."
"No matter." He shrugged, "I've brought back so many victories that they can't do anything but drag me into some sad hearings. If things get too hot, I'm eager for early retirement. Isn't that better? I've always wanted to visit Thessia with a beautiful Asari maiden after the war but never got the chance."
No, Josef thought, now is not the time for that. More than ever, the Reich needed people like Grünblatt. A new enemy was approaching from the horizon, one that Josef Bittenfeld knew he could not fight conventionally.
"There is something I think you should be informed of, Reichsmarschall." Josef said, "Given the sensitivity of the information, I urge you to take great consideration before sharing it with anyone."
Cornelius giggled like a young lady, "Oh, take great consideration before sharing! I never thought I'd live to the day seeing you keeping secrets and plotting, my good old Josef. Well, what are you waiting for? Tell me. My curiosity is killing me here."
Obviously, the whole thing was little more than a joke to his superiors but that was only before the names of the accused, the accuser and the evidence were presented. von Fahrenheit's smile quickly faded as his face turned pale. The blonde-haired man then returned to his chair with a concern Josef had never seen before.
"Good God, it's gonna be ugly. Very ugly" The blonde-haired man said to himself and no one in particular, with his hands putting against his face, "Is Moritz sure of his conclusion? I mean 100% sure. As far as I know, Steinbauer isn't the restrained type, and with a wife like that it wouldn't be a surprise if he took a kind of drug that shouldn't be touched."
"Perhaps it was just a natural death according to the coroner's report." Josef replied then pointed out, "But I'm pretty sure Benezia deliberately misinterpreted the order that killed Michael Shepard and only got away due to Martin's favor. On top of that, it couldn't be coincidental when that red-haired woman tried everything to get me to the same conclusion. You also see how she's lived for the past ten years, acting as if death is right behind her back."
"Before we take any legal action against Benezia, you must find out the motive or something that proves she had Michael Shepard and Martin killed if what Moritz is saying is to be believed. However, even if you manage to do so, don't expect too much out of it."
Josef's eyes widened, "Why?" If he had enough evidence to present to the Imperial High Court then being a Matriarch and an Asari would not save Benezia from the death penalty. Of course, she could escape to some hole in her homeland, but he didn't expect the Asari Republic's famously transparent legal system to turn a blind eye. And that was not to mention the infamous Justicar, who swore to see Asari society free from corruption of any kind. Benezia T'soni would have to live the remaining years like Josef's mysterious red-haired woman, hunted and always on the run.
"Why? Why? Where have you been all these years, Josef? Under a rock?" Cornelius' amazement was completely genuine. "We are talking about Benezia T'soni, who broke the first peace between the Reich and the Asari Republic. She was the one gave birth to the anti-Tyranid coalition of which you are also a part, and whatever your opinions on her are, it's undeniable that without her, Tyranid would have must have swallowed the whole earth right now. No court will take your allegations seriously, not to mention the possibility that you yourself are accused of defamation."
"In that case, I will bring the proof to Kaiser. As the protector of the Reich, he will…"
"During our last meeting, the Kaiser could no longer remember who I was and our Prince Frog is comfortable with his new position like a bear in the cage."
"So what do you suggest we do?" Josef growled under his breath, "Pretend nothing happened and let Benezia get away with it? If she really did kill our two senior commanders then what would stop her from doing something even worse?"
Cornelius von Fahrenheit grew quiet, fingers stroking the nonexistent beard of his chin, eyes shut closed. Josef felt a little relieved at that. The Reichswehr's greatest mind was working at full capacity and soon a brilliant plan would be hatched and no longer Josef would have to swim in the endless void.
"That mysterious woman of yours– did she mention anything about money?"
"Er…Not really." It was strange that Josef never noticed this detail, "She only asked for a small sum and transport to planet Burwitz, the transit station of the Azanika region for a reason unknown to me."
"So money is not the motive." Cornelius muttered, "What could this be? Loyalty? Love or…both?"
"I'm afraid I don't quite follow."
"My take on the whole thing is the person we're looking for is someone close to Michael Shepard or to be more precise, an officer under his command. Based on how she conducts her affair, there is a high probability. Perhaps Monsieur Gilbert Cormier should take a look at the officers serving in the fleet when Michael was still alive instead of finding a needle in a haystack. Well, I can find him a list if he wants, it's not that big of a deal anyway."
Good God, Josef should have told Grünblatt everything last year, "Suppose we find the woman and extract information from her. What's next?"
"' 'What's next" is my biggest concern." Reichsmarschall raised up, striding across the handmade Asari rug with his hands clasped behind his back. "Benezia T'soni is a bigger game and you need a bigger gun. It's not easy to find dirt on Matriarchs literally, let alone a murderous one."
Oh yes, that Josef had no doubt. After the war, like many other field commanders, he also went out for a few drinks with his Asari rivals and discussed the past in the chivalrous spirit of civilized species. Most of them turned out to be more dignified individuals than Josef imagined and were brutally honest when it came to the nature of their Republic and who really ran the show.
"In the ancient Asari language, Asuna Mikiri means 'Above all', not 'The Wise' as we understand in the modern interpretation. No matter, you Germans will soon learn the difference."
It was quite hard to believe the person who said those words was Strategos Selarys, the renowned shield of the Republic. The Asari had a special fondness for exaggerated talk, this was well-known and truth be told, Selarys was no exception. But for a brief moment, her seriousness was no less sharp than the Cinder blade hanging on her hip.
"No. I don't assume things are going to be that simple."
"Of course, they never are but the situation is not hopeless. By chance, I came to know someone with the ability and authority to investigate Benezia properly. However, I must remind you that we have to be extremely subtle here. It would be better if she is led to suspect Benezia T'soni herself with our help instead of directly requesting and waking the beast from its slumber."
"Her?" Josef was not aware of any woman of such caliber. "Who is she? How can you be sure she doesn't serve Benezia T'soni and sell us out?"
"You don't have to trouble yourself with that. In the next few days, you will also come to know who she is and agree with my choice anyways." Cornelius replied with a smile, "The essential part of this plan is in no circumstances, Benezia is allowed to know she's under suspicion or you and I will soon have a drink with Martin in the afterlife. Do you understand that?"
Indeed, there was no safe place on the battlefield. Josef Bittenfeld was at an age where death no longer held much power over him as it used to, but failure and disgrace were ten times worse. At all costs, he must complete this final duty to the Reich before he went to the Lord.
"So we have to feed the investigator with information but the investigator is not allowed to know who we are."
"Correct. There are many ways to get that done, but first, I need an officer who both excels in combat and is crafty enough for covert missions. He must also be absolutely loyal and willing to do whatever is asked of him without asking too many questions. As you can see, we're forced to keep this story in a very small circle for safety reasons, so it's best to let him think this is just a normal job. Any suggestions?"
At first, Josef didn't think he had anyone like that in his service, but the Goddess of Fortuna had favored this time and sent Kaidan Alenko into the room with a cup of ginger tea and cookies on a silver tray. Josef didn't eat much at feasts and alcohol sometimes made his stomach cold.
"Your evening snack, Fiel…" The poor man froze on the spot when he met the curious look from Reichsmarschall, "Sir, if..if you need anything then—"
"Put that thing down and come here, Kaidan." Josef ordered, "I have something for you to do."
"So this is the one you owe your life to?" For the man that suggested the idea, von Fahrenheit looked more anxious than he should. "Is he good enough?"
"A little less crafty than you required," Replied the 224th Army commander "But in this situation, I would trade anything for blind loyalty."
-V-
West Kreutzhofen District, planet Grafburg
Hans Ruppen warmed up his favourite spot at the bar for half an hour before Mühlenmädchen's (Mill maids) first three official customers walked through the oval doors, picked up a table by the window, and ordered three pints of medium stout. On Saturdays, this 200-year-old Bavarian-styled restaurant and bar only opened after 6 p.m., but a regular customer in urgent business like Hans would always receive sympathy from Dogen, the owner of the respectable establishment.
At 6:15, Lena, Dogen's daughter and alemaid returned from a day's work on the farm across the river Süßwasser. She had been Hans's friend since middle school, never called pretty due to her big nose that reddened in the cold but she was lively, always in the mood for laughter and chatter and because of that, he had to give up the pursuit when the room simply became too crowded. Lena later married, became a mother of two, and like many German women of her generation, the Tyranid soon made a widow out of her, put her in a position where fidelity to the dead hero was encouraged, and then went on torturing Hans with her bright smile, deep blue eyes, optimistic attitude, and soft brown hair.
"Who is the lucky lady this time?"
Lena asked as she brought Hans a shot of Schnapps, his favorite drink. She looked even more breathtaking in her green Dirndl and two short braids that lightly kissed her strong shoulders.
" What the..how do you know that?"
The waitress rested her hands on her hips, lips curling, "The best salaryman's suit you have. Simple, polite but not too serious. You've shaved off your beard, changed your hairstyle, and on top of that, you're here pretty early." Lena patted her big nose with her index finger, "I can still smell your new perfume. On our first date, my Rufus also changed perfume. So…who is the lucky girl this time, Casanova?"
Hans really didn't want to talk about it, but since the questioner was Lena, he knew he wouldn't be able to get away without giving an answer:
"Gerdi." He whispered, "That's her name."
"And…?"
Was she slim or chubby? Brown hair or blonde? Smooth skin or full of freckles? A Leopold fan or feeling more at home among Adrian Quint's crowd? Coming out of a woman's womb or calling a tube her mom? The matchmaker didn't tell Hans about these things because according to the agreement, the woman was guaranteed to be a perfect match for him, but until they met, she would remain a surprise.
"We will get to know each other later. Now, names are enough."
Lena's face went from confusion to realization within milliseconds, "My God, a blind date?" She gasped, "You can't be that desperate, Hans. I understand breaking up with Sophie is hard for you but…isn't it a bit too risky? I mean, you've never been a one-night stand type. It took you six months to buy Sophie a drink, but now you want to rent a room with a stranger after a few hours?"
Sophie? Did I really know a woman by that name? Hans was about to ask Lena that, but for some reason, the words seemed to dissolve in his throat and instead, he said:
"Mama said I should try something different. I've been on the same old path for a long time and haven't gained much from it so… why not? Maybe in the future, you will find me searching for my love on another planet. Perhaps somewhere like Yakuta. Mama said Japanese women know how to care for their men and she wish nothing more than seeing me well-fed and happy. 'You can settle down there for good if you want to' - that was what she said."
Lena's blue eyes narrowed, "Mrs. Ruppen said that? Mrs. Ruppen who won't let you move out and see the girls as nothing but some evil bird trying to steal her son?"
"People change, Lena."
Hans never thought of this sudden turn as a problem, especially since things were going for the better. His mother finally gained more confidence in her son's capacity and though it was rather late, Hans finally had a chance to enjoy the freedom that rightly belonged to him ten years ago. Truth be told, he did sometimes miss the 'old mama', the frightened and frail woman who always waited for him inside their small apartment in the Mikkel-Stern building with rye bread and smoking pumpkin soup.
The new Mama' didn't cook much. She went out with her new friends until midnight more often, so lately he'd had to cook his own dinner and eat it alone. A part of being independent, Mama told him, once he found a life partner, he would dine alone no more.
Unfortunately, the taste of self-cooked food was not as great as the taste of independence but overall, this was an improvement. No doubt about it.
"Well… I suppose you're right. It's just I feel like that come out from nowhere." The waitress shyly admitted, "How come I rarely see your mother these days? She like buying sausages from your kamerad Joachim, does she not? Wait…speaking of Joachim, there's something I need to ask you. Do you know what happened to him? He always comes here on weekends but I've only seen his sister at the store for the past month."
Looks like he has his hands full with something important so he can't hang out with me like before. For a moment, Hans wondered why he thought that was the case. Like Lena, he hadn't seen Joachim in a while and had absolutely no idea where his friend had gone, but before he could comprehend that, the answer somehow managed to slip out of his lips.
"He is out of town. I heard it has to do with a political group or something of such. His sister raises the price of blood sausages so high that my mother is forced to buy them elsewhere."
"Joachim joining a political group?" Lena exclaimed quietly "He only bothers to learn the name of our current district representative cause she is a young, good-looking one. If Joachim somehow becomes a politician then I'm casted as Leopold's lover in the next movie coming to a cinema nowhere near you."
"I guess we've misjudged him then." He shrugged and took his shot of Schnapps,"Anyway, this is an improvement if you think about it. None of us wants to see Joachim talking about football and drinking to his early grave, am i right?"
"Pa is going to disagree with you about the drinking part. Joachim and his friends contribute a lot to our establishment." She replied with a smile, Golden apple Schnapps filling Hans's empty shot from a bottle wrapped in bronze wire. "So do you have any special request tonight, lover boy? A table for two by the fireplace and white wine? Champagne is much better, but we run out of it."
"I was thinking of a nice spot by the fish tank." Mama didn't want him to be the center of attention tonight. She had made that very clear yesterday. Mühlenmädchen is where local housewives come to get some beer for their good-for-nothing husbands, and I wouldn't be pleased upon hearing people talk about you having dinner with a strange woman, "Draft beer and a medium-sized set for two. 50%..no, 75% organic."
"Don't be so stingy. Every woman wishes her future husband to be a generous man ."
"But Mama said…"
"And one more thing; Please don't let Gerdi hear you rambling about mama this, mama that. I bet even Mrs. Ruppen wouldn't enjoy being used as a shield over and over again." Lena insisted and activated the counter's Omni-tool. Diagrams of Mühlenmädchen with tables numbered from 1 to 20 flashed into existence in sweet country tunes. The table he chose was in the right corner, bearing the number 7, a lucky number. "It's settled then. A medium-sized organic dinner set, a bottle of chilled white wine, candles and a bouquet of yellow roses. Thank you for choosing Mühlenmädchen."
Around 6:30, the restaurant was invaded by black, blue and red jumpsuits from the saucer assembly factory in Tausend Eichenstraße. As had become a West Kreuthofen tradition, Saturday afternoon shifts always ended earlier so people had enough time for refreshments and catching the Blitz train to the local stadium. Tonight, their Kreutzhofener Bürger would play against Kuttenwald FC in a derby that promised pitch drama and yellow cards but since Kuttenwald FC was quite content with their 6th place, there was a fat chance that this would be a draw. The clever ones might put money in the prospect of the home team rushing to find a goal and letting the opponent score first, but the wiser would refuse to play this game. Too many people had fled from their birthplaces after two 'El Classical' of the last season, so Hans was unlikely to risk the meager wage he made as an accountant for an inner system shipping company.
It had been three years since his last raise, but like many of his colleagues, he had no reason to complain. The demand for flying saucers and warship components was now only two-fifths of what it was 10 years ago, and every month more companies went bankrupt, factories closed, tens of thousands of workers and office workers had to join the crowds that lined up at 7 a.m. Monday morning to receive their unemployment benefits. Hans was among the lucky few. The Kreutzhofen shipping company No. 4 mainly dealt with food and civil products, so it was not much affected by the economic shift. With the right policy, they could even expand their business and make a profit in this situation. At least that was what those men in the board believed at the last meeting, but of course, only time might tell if that optimistic assessment was accurate or not.
If pessimistic predictions did not come true, the same could happen with optimistic ones.
Years ago, when Hans still thought babies were made when lips met, Grafburg was always on edge, fearing that one day, Hive Fleet would appear outside their planet's orbit and bring forth The Judgment Day that Christians had always believed in. As the Planetary governor, Lord Kestenbaum tried very hard to reassure the populace that the only type of Tyranid they might lay eyes on in their lifetimes could only be the mummified Hive Tyrant captured on Eden for the nearest front was sixty million light-years away.
"Even the Citadel Alliance could not break the Siegfried Line in war," Hans remembered the good old Lord saying so in an interview after someone suggested that they should gradually evacuate the women and children to Yakuta by Haunebu before it was too late. "Our Grünblatt will smash the bugs to pieces the way he smashed the Asari army before."
A prediction was then proven to be more accurate than expected but came too late and hence impossible to prevent a huge system of walls, shelter and fortifications from being erected on the planet's surface, hundreds of millions of Lasgewehr guns produced and went along with them mandatory military training programs for citizens from age 16 to 100. An exceptional well-preparation for a battle that never comes, people bitterly said so when it comes to the absurdity that had ruled Grafburg for the past 15 years. And like rubbing salt in the wound, their home planet now had millions of useless buildings to demolish and a crippling debt that forced Kestenbaum to resign as the whole German Empire's economy fell into another recession.
"Another reason to get the hell out of this place."
The idea of an interplanetary adventure crossed the accountant's mind again as two serving droids clanked their way toward his table with white wine yellow roses, and candles in their hands. Both were the Ringelblume droid of the 2750 series, slow, noisy and smelled of rust and oil even with a fresh coat of paint; clumsy mechanical fingers recently had Dogen switch to using plastic dishes instead of porcelain as before. Maintenance fees were almost non-existent while Rufus was still alive and Lena was still an owner of a small droid repair shop. Now looking back, it was like a different world to them. Rufus would remain in Tamara forever, the shop was sold to support two fatherless children, and with his thrifty nature, Dogen would never invest in new equipment in a bleak economy.
"Tell your mistress i want her to bring my dinner down here herself." It would be embarrassing if either of these idiots splashed some of the gravy on Gerdi's skirt or dropped an Eisbein's all over Hans' pants. "Tell. Lena. To. Bring. My. Dinner. Herself." He had to repeat the order slowly since there was one occasion these two idiot brought him a cup of sugar as he asked for something sweet for dessert.
The two metal heads nodded, smiling emoji displayed on the mini screen, but whether they would do as he wanted or not was still in question. He checked the time again, pleased that all the preparations had been completed about ten minutes before the deadline, meaning that if there were any problems emerged he could still handle them. However, since they remained submerged, he had to pass the time by rereading the message Gerdi had sent a few days ago.
"Dear Mr. Ruppen. I will arrive at Mühlenmädchen at 6:40. You don't need to wear something recognizable. Just pick a table and I'll find you."
That worried him. She didn't invest too much in this date, he could see the signs. Although it was never said outright, this was no different than the time he bought his first Hoverwagen. The products were laid out for the buyer to choose from and to be honest, the goods he brought were not that nice to look at. Accountant, 2500 Reichsmark a month, a windowless apartment in Mikkel-Stern Spire, a Volkswagen Clementine with a Fusion engine never looked promising so this might be the first and last time he saw Gerdi.
As it turned out, this pessimistic premonition of Hans far exceeded all expectations. This was indeed the first and last time he saw Gerdi, but things would occur in a way that he could not have dreamed of.
Two workers sitting opposite the door saw her first. Hans remembered seeing them lifting their heads from their pasta and staring at the entrance in astonishment before the silhouette of a beautiful blondie appeared in the corner of his eye. At first, it didn't cross his mind it was Gerdi but a random visitor who happened to pass by Mühlenmädchen's bright red tile roof and whitewashed walls in a gray industrial area and wondered 'Why not? Ever since those gruesome fortifications and bunkers across the river were removed in favor of middle-class housing, he had sometimes pumped into people like her on the street- Housewives, young, just married, plenty of free time when their husband was at work.
However, this woman was not a housewife, a random visitor nor walking to the restaurant by chance. He could see it in the outfit she wore, simple but elegant; Long ivory coat, white shirt with funnel sleeves and golden cuffs, light pink skirt, brown leather boots instead of colourful brocade, silk shawls, high heels that were favourited by Grafburg women. The woman's blonde curls were braided in the traditional Heidi but the style and structure looked quite unfamiliar with small buns strung together, extending from the forehead to the nape without the need for a large bun fixed on the top of the head.
A new fashion trend? He had never known women well enough to be aware of, but it was clear that there was something about this woman that set her apart from the rest.
"It can't be Gerdi." Hans thought to himself as her eyes fell on him, "They said the woman would be a perfect match."
Like most men, Hans didn't fond of dating out of his league since even when the story had a good ending at the altar, such women always reminded the man of his failure rather than success. That's sadly how life works, Mama had once told him. The flowers that strive to be the most beautiful, the brightest would all get plucked one by one and what remained in the garden shall be those who knew how to hide under the leaves.
"Mr. Ruppen?" The beautiful woman greeted him, a dedicated hand wrapped in linen gloves reaching out for him to grasp, "I am Gerdi Herschel Sorry for being late."
"Ah..uh, two minutes is nothing like being late." He twitched for a moment, feeling an unusual strength from her fingers. How could a girl like this have the handshake of a shipyard's welder? "I hope I didn't cause any inconveniences in your schedule. I have to work overtime this week so only Saturday night is free."
"No matter, I'm still a woman free until the end of this month."
She replied with a smile and made herself comfortable in her chair, ignoring that Hans was stunned by 'I'm still a woman free until the end of this month'. With a skilful movement, the woman plucked a rose from the bouquet and brought it to her nose. The golden petals matched the color of her hair, and in the flickering light of the three candles, it came to Hans's realization that her eyes were not brown but dark lilac.
She is not from around here, now he knew for sure.
"So…how does this thing proceed?" Gerdi asked, "I must admit this is my first time participating in a blind date."
"Well, we'll introduce ourselves first.. then…talk about topics you're interested in." At least that's one of the more practical suggestions in the book called 'You Want a Date?' which he bought a few years ago. A woman could well pretend to listen to what said but it was best not to give her an excuse to do so, "But since you have read my personal info..."
"I haven't read it yet. I just take a look at your picture and learn your name. That's all."
For some reason, Hans had a feeling the woman was lying and she even knew the size of his underwear. However, there was some truth in that though. It would be quite contradictory for someone like her to come here after knowing him so well.
"Then let me begin first, Miss Hershel. My name is Hans Ruppen but my friends often call me…"
"Come now, there is no need to be in such a hurry." Her laughter was like the silver bells chiming on a Christmas tree. "This is a romantic dinner, isn't it? Let's them bring the appetizer first and then we can talk about whatever we like later. I'm so hungry that I can eat a whole Krogan and the Salarian that he swallowed an hour before."
Hans couldn't help but laugh, "If you say so, Fräulein Herschel."
"Call me Gerdi. No one calls me 'Miss Hershel'. And if you agree, I'll start calling you Hans."
Buttermilk soup was then brought and served on two white enamelled plates with a blue pattern. Just as he feared, Lena's eyes widened like two chicken eggs at the first glance at Gerdi but fortunately, the waitress had restrained herself and said nothing more than 'Enjoy your meal' before retreating back to the background. She would torture him with a mountain of questions later, there was no doubt but that was the problem of tomorrow. Now, Hans had another woman to deal with.
"Good God, I never expected to find something this good in a beer restaurant." Gerdi exclaimed happily after the first spoon of soup, "I must admit I was quite concerned when you didn't pick a table somewhere in Mariendorf but it seems I should put more trust in the locals."
Mariendorf was only a two-minute Blitz train ride from where he worked. If he chose a restaurant there, the time would not be limited to Saturday night and the cost wouldn't be much higher than Mühlenmädchen. Last Easter, four of his colleagues went to a family restaurant on the 78th floor to watch the setting sun redden the white marbles of Kestenbaum Castle and have a hearty dinner with roasted chicken, sausage, and free vani ice cream.
They only have to pay 450 Reichsmark for their luxurious night out, including the Schwebetaxi fee because no one could drive the Hoverwagen anymore after three rounds of beers at the Bar nearby Overall, Mariendorf was a much better option but in the end, Mühlenmädchen was chosen because…because..why did I choose this place anyways? Hans really wanted to know, but again, something made him say:
"That area is too far from where I work and live. Besides, I like the deco of this restaurant more."
"There's no doubt about that." Gerdi agreed and took a sip of white wine, "I can already feel the gentle touch of a few generations around here. Bet your Pa and Ma use to sit where we are now, right?"
He shrugged, "I'm not sure about my mama. She wasn't fond of the crowd and barely went anywhere except to buy food and visit relatives as I grew up. My father though, he loved to come here for a drink when he was alive."
Ever since Gerdi walked into Mühlenmädchen, Hans had always had a feeling that the woman in front of him only existed in a vacuum. Her name wasn't Gerdi, she was not from Drewitz and she didn't come here for a date. It was hard to deny she had a special interest in him, but not once did he think that sincerity came from the thing men and women felt in each other. Her pretty face and charming smile were written in a language he couldn't comprehend and no matter how sincere she was, she could never make Hans believe he was the protagonist of the story.
However, for a brief moment, there was a genuineness in Gerdi. As soon as Hans's late father was mentioned, her lilac eyes suddenly softened and he sensed something very different. Sadness? Sympathy? Regret? Anger?
"I'm terribly sorry. I should have been more sensitive." She said, "My father too is no longer with me."
"A common tale among us Germans, isn't it? The funny thing is my old man isn't even a real soldat so to speak. He spent his entire military career at a supply depot four million light-years away from the front, having coffee and pancakes every morning before going to his post and from what my mother said, he was skinny like a tree before joining the Heer." The distant memory of the chubby bald man sent a smile to Hans' face, "After peace was restored, he returned to work on a grain cargo ship operating in Kernwelt. 'Star Seeker was its name and the last voyage took place in the year 2835…to the Terminus Zone. Unfortunately."
"The year the Tyranid began their march towards Kernwelt," sighed Gerdi, "My father died four years later on Eden. I assume you've heard of the battle."
"It's hard to forget a time like that. When the news reached Grafburg, leftovers or expired food was sent to my school so female students could mince them, mix them with flour, shove them into the oven, and then send to the front delicious protein buns. Younger ones like me walked up and down the streets in the neighbourhood with a wooden box on their chests after school, mouth singing '10 Reichsmark to buy medi-gel for our heroes, 5 Reichsmark so he won't go hungry, 1 Reichsmark for the bullet to pierce the enemy's heart'. Mama wouldn't allow me to do that. She thought it looked silly, so she asked the school to let me collect food donations."
Gerdi burst out laughing, "She's such a wonderful mother. If I had a son, I wouldn't let him do that either. Still, I would be delighted to hear you sing. Do you sing well?"
"You'd rather hear a dog barking, Gerdi. In a way, I have to thank Mama for intervening."
The main course was a traditional Kreutzhofen light meal consisting of Schitzel with creamy mushroom sauce, sauerkraut and mashed potatoes, but since Lena was his friend, everything on the plate swelled up so much that Hans almost had to let the potato portion untouched if it weren't for Gerdi's bottomless stomach. To his amazement, another portion of smoked sausage and sauerkraut was brought up and quickly vanished into the air before he could finish his Schitzel. Obviously, this woman wasn't joking about swallowing a Krogan whole, but perhaps the surprise wouldn't have been so great if he'd known what she did for a living.
"A biotic operator?" Hans gaped, "You…you are in the Reichswehr?"
"To be more precise, I am a member of the Kriegsmarine. Commander Gerdi Hershel, 1st Marine Kommandos detachment, Special Tactic Battlegroup or…at least i used to be."
"Used to?" He heard that many soldiers, even low-ranking officers, did not have their contracts renewed in the past year and because of that, the application for unemployment benefits at the labor department had doubled. However, Gerdi didn't quite fit the category. Though he was not familiar with the military rank, he could tell that she was high-ranking and that calm demeanor could not be found in those lacking money "Honorable discharge?"
"Much worse." She replied and wiped the sauce from her lips with a napkin, "Promotion."
"This is the first time I know someone get upset over something like that."
"If you really love the boring provincial life but get sent to frivolous Earth so you can dip your head in front of some fancy ladies and gentlemen, then there's always a sea of reasons to grieve. Most people want to return to the cradle of humanity for a good reason, even if it means competing for Bingo's second prize instead of the first.(The second prize of this lottery is citizenship on a planet somewhere near the solar system.) I am just a simple woman so such a wish has never been on my list. But who can you blame but yourself in this anyway? Of the people I could bump into, I chose the Crown Prince."
Is she pulling my legs? Hans found himself jumping to conclusions a bit too quickly, but to be fair, he had every reason to be suspicious. Ever since His Highness's staying in Grafburg was revealed, information like 'The Prince went to the same school as i did', 'I sat next to him on the train', 'He often buys vegetables here', 'I went with him on a date', 'He kissed me once' from time to time appeared on the Extranet and became the entertainment of the next morning's news.
"I think it must have been an interesting experience." It wouldn't be nice to accuse a woman of lying. Perhaps it was for the best if he just went with the wind and let things take their own courses. "May I ask how it happened?"
"Of course. This is by no means a military secret, but you'll be disappointed if expecting a newsworthy story. It's rather boring in my opinion."
However, for a rather boring story, Gerdi was more excited than she should. With one swift movement, she activated the Omni-Tool mounted on a gold bracelet wrapped around her left wrist and sent a file to the projector. Their dinner table was split in half by a photograph of three men and a woman sitting around another table in a cramped and gloomy corner that Hans guessed was a bunker or tent. All of them were officers of the Reichswehr. Two of them Hans had never laid eyes on, but the other two... not quite. Gerdi didn't look much different from the woman she was now, except that Bob cut was so short that one could mistake her for a handsome young man. But he almost failed to recognize Crown Prince Maximillian. Though there was no weakness in his eyes, he was like the land wrecked by a storm. He was thin, tired and looked rather brooding with that bushy beard of his, the complete opposite of the handsome prince that melted the young maiden's heart.
"You probably know that the prince once commanded a battalion during the Tamara campaign when he…well how should I put it? Not quite a Crown Prince and known by a different name?"
"Well..I did hear a thing or two." Damn, she really knows Maximillian. Hans felt like he had just missed a landmine by a foot."Strange, there is not much said about his military career."
"Probably because there's nothing to tell. His Highness had fought valiantly and got the recognition he deserved but so did the other twenty million soldiers present on Tamara. It didn't really matter anyway. Our Maximillian isn't the type who cares much about achievement or bloodline. When my Haunebu was hit and had to land in a contested area, he led the rescue team and got me out of there. A royal favour, you might call, but of course, I was completely ignorant of it at the time since he hid his identity too well."
"And now he wants your service as a way to return the favour?"
"You may say so." Gerdi shrugged, "But from what I see, he's like a desperate man in need of help."
Hans struggled to understand why someone who stood above a billion people, lived in a castle with a few hundred servants, and surrounded himself with beautiful women and riches, could become desperate. Still, this was a topic he didn't think he should delve into. This evening was for the two of them and there was no point in continuing the conversation about a man who made Hans look like a bug. But….
"I think you should accept His Highness's invitation." Again? Why did he keep saying things he shouldn't say over and over? Hans really wanted to know, but the answer kept evading him and now he couldn't even remember when this odd habit started. Last year? Last month? Last week? Yesterday? It can't be yesterday! Yesterday I was…I was… "He certainly secured a good position for you."
There was a devilish satisfaction in Gerdi's smile. "Really? You really want me to accept the offer and go to Earth? I wonder if you would say the same thing if we were married?"
"Mar..Married..?" The thought excited him as much as it scared him, "You..Gerdi, you're kidding right?"
The blonde woman burst out laughing, "Of course I'm joking, silly. You may well believe that people like me have ill intentions when choosing an all-male working environment, but get married after just one date? Come on, even an indecent woman has to have her standards."
Dessert was the specialty of Mühlenmädchen - Baumkuchen with chocolate coating and egg cream in the middle. Hans always liked the moderate sweetness of the cake, the richness of the thick cream prepared by Lena as well as the way the chocolate broke in his mouth. But tonight he wasn't in the mood to enjoy those things. His hands were shaking so much that he couldn't hold the spoon, his heart was pounding like it wanted to jump out of his chest, his entire world shrunk and could be summed up in one word:
Gerdi
Ever since she entered this place, she had been the most beautiful creature Hans had ever laid eyes on, but now she had become something more. The satin fabric could not hide all the curves of her breasts, words seemed hopeless to describe the lovely locks of hair above her ears, her wet lips were worthy of a thousand kisses, and the scent of her body almost made him unable to control himself. His lust was like a reef exposed itself when the tide receded, naked, dark and…unexpected. He didn't know where it came from, but he was sure it had always been there.
"It would be disappointing if you lost your appetite right now," Gerdi said, glancing at the intact Baumkuchen in front of him. A bit of cream and chocolate chips still remained on her empty plate. "This is amazing. Do you know who cooked it? I really want to give the chef a compliment."
"I think it was, ahem…" Hans cleared his throat, utilizing a few precious seconds to muster up all the courage he had, "Gerdi, would you consider a serious, long-term relationship?"
"Long-term and serious? Now that's a surprise." She didn't look surprised at all, "Isn't this a bit too soon? You should at least wait until the third date."
"Yes, that's true but…I just…I just..I'm afraid I don't have much time left." What the hell is it supposed to mean? He was still alive and healthy but he talked like someone had one foot in the grave. "Didn't you just say you were going to Earth? I want to have a chance to get to know you better."
"It will be a few months before that happens." She calmly pointed out, "And there is still no guarantee that I will agree."
"You must agree! You must…"
Hans paused as his voice rose so high that curious eyes around began to turn in one direction. Shame made him wonder why, but unlike previous efforts, the answer was instantly pumped straight into his brain. Gerdi really should go to Earth, he wanted her to go to Earth and…
...So did his Mama.
Mama wanted him and Gerdi to give birth to healthy children. In the cradle of humanity, their descendants multiply and thrive. The young shoots one day became great oak trees and when the trees fell, their descendants dug their roots deep into the Earth, marking the beginning of a new era. Mama had foresaw it all. It was only a matter of time before everyone spoke with one voice, nurtured by one mother, worshipping one god, and peace would reign forever.
That's right! That's what I want, that's why I was born! One voice, one mother, one god and peace will reign forever.
"Want to hold me close, but also push me away at the same time?" Gerdi concludes with amusement, "Your definition of affection is rather strange, Hans."
"No, I just…" His chest ached, his vision blurred, and his hand had to grab onto the table to keep himself from falling. This feeling, whatever it was, was too much for him and took his breath away. "..I'm sorry. I just want..just want.."
Hans collapsed in the aisle between two rows of tables before he could finish his sentence. He heard someone scream before finding himself surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar faces; Salarymen with pointed chins and timid eyes wondered what had happened to him; Bushy bearded factory workers called out to each other to pull him up; Dogen's shiny bald head was covered in sweat, his eyes shrunk and looked like two peas; Lena's big nose turned red as she began to sob. All of them panicked, all of them enthusiastically debating what to do next.
"Bring the medical scanner, Fritz." A grey-beard man shouted to someone, "I put it in my tool bag."
"Better call an ambulance." Another commented, "This looks like food poisoning."
"Watch your mouth! You dare bring your fat here and then accuse its owner of serving rotten food?" Dogen growled, "Mühlenmädchen always has control over the quality of its products. There's a droid in the back scanning everything in the freezer. Want to check?"
"Give me a break, Dogen. Your useless droids bring me the wrong stuff all the time."
"That's right, that's right." An older woman agreed, "You should throw away all of your scrap metal and buy new ones, you miser."
"Knock it off, everyone!" Lena exclaimed, "This is not the time to argue. Someone is dying here."
Dying? Hans didn't think so. He was simply so happy that he couldn't lift his arms or legs. No one understood him, no one except…Gerdi. His perfect woman faced adversity like the Süßwasser River in a snowstorm, unfazed by the cold winds blowing in from the North. Quickly and quietly, she found her way through the crowd and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"He's alright," Gerdi said, Her voice was gentle but Hans felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as if something had dug into his skin. "Just a little rest and he will feel better soon."
"How the hell do you know that?" The big, bearded man asked in surprise.
"My soldiers experience the same symptom after a few days of continuous fighting. Dehydration and exhaustion are the main causes." There was an ooh and a sigh of relief. Although Grafburg was not where prestigious legions and famous generals hailed from, its residents still had a great respect for Reichswehr officers. "You just told me you've been working overtime this week, is that true, Hans?"
Hans didn't remember anything about it, but nodded still, "Yeah...I'm just a little tired. It's nothing too serious." He then tried to stand up with the help of Gerdi and a table. The intense emotions from earlier were now just an echo, but it took him a few minutes to convince those around him that he was ' alright'.
"Are you really okay?" Lena asked, her brown eyes drown in worry and suspicion, "There's a room and bed in the back for the staff. You should lie down for a bit just to be sure."
"A bed at home is perhaps a better option," Gerdi answered for him. "Don't worry, Lena. I will take good care of him for you."
How could she know? Hans wasn't sure he'd mention anything about Lena during their conversation but…did he actually do that and forget about it? He really wanted to find out but his mind felt like the pieces of a puzzle trying to find their old place and the embarrassment of passing out on their first date made the moment pass and never return. Outside, it was dark and cold. Gerdi buttoned three more buttons on her coat and put on her gloves. A white breath escaped from her mouth and quickly dissipated into the air, revealing two blushing cheeks and a charming smile. With God as his witness, he had never laid eyes on such a beautiful sight before.
"You have a drive?" Gerdi asked.
"Uh I…I stick to public transportation."
A lie. Mama sold his Volkswagen last month to….do whatever she thought to be necessary. This inconvenience never bothered Hans as much as he thought, but that didn't mean Gerdi should know about it either.
"Then you're in luck. I never catch the Blitz train on Saturdays. Can't stand those drunkards and their chanting."
Gerdi's BMW Paragon was of the 2777 series- classic, elegant, expensive and not for human users. Hans immediately noticed the abnormality when he sat in a chair that was too small for an average-sized male and in the Heimdall navigation system, everything was written in complex Asari hieroglyphs. Alien languages had never been Hans' strong suit in school, so it took him a while to enter his home address into the system.
"First time I see an alien version of a Paragon." Hans said, "BMW is very proud that their products are always used by Germans within German territory."
"That was just before. Many planets in Kernwelt no longer look, feel, or smell like a human planet." A quiet 'UuuU' sound came from the Paragon's engine as it lifted itself about half a meter off the ground and moved horizontally into the lane. "People changes from time to time, does they not?"
An unusual date, an unusual woman, and an unusual hoverwagen. Hans had never been accustomed to surprises. His life was as simple and predictable as the suit he wore. However, it seemed like the convenient excuse he used to avoid questions didn't need to be answered wasn't far from the truth after all. Who doesn't change from time to time?
"Yes, that's what Mama often tells me." He replied.
"The more I hear about your mother, the more I realize that she and I have so much in common. I hope she doesn't mind me showing up at her door with her boy"
Mama will welcome you with open arms. For all the confusion and suspicion he had tonight, this was the only truth he was certain of. Mama could be harsh sometimes but children were always her weak spot. If Gerdi was the girl he chose, she had no reason to refuse.
"My mother is a kind woman, Gerdi. She will love you."
-V-
Their journey was short but not lacking in highlights. At the intersection of Die Atlanter and Tausend Eichenstraße, a crowd of several thousand people marched slowly along the two sidewalks like a lazy flood under the supervision of five Police Kolibri hovering above. At first, Hans thought this was another protest by unemployed factory workers, but then he quickly noticed there were many women in there and their choice of clothing was rather odd. That type of dress, scarf, and color, as far as he knew, were only suitable for girls between 10 and 12 years old, and it was even more incomprehensible for some of them wore ropes around their necks.
"Those are supporters of Hanah Schwann," Gerdi told him, "They called themselves the swans. How fitting."
"The girl who is sentenced to death?" He had caught the wind of this story on the news, "But Yannicksburg is in the far west of our Reich."
"Then the swans have flown farther than expected. At this rate, it's only a matter of time before a similar group is formed on Earth and set up their tent in front of the Reichstag. They've already succeeded in turning a public hanging into death by firing squad, so life imprisonment instead of the death penalty isn't too far-fetched if you ask me."
Would I receive the same support if similar misfortune befell on me? Hans knew too damn well what the answer was, but there was no reason to be afraid here. Grafburg was not a strategic planet and was far from the front line as the old governor said, so the threat from the Genestealer was minimum.
"Oh, sugar!" Gerdi exclaimed softly when the crowd of a few thousand people turned out to be tens of thousands and began to feel the sidewalk was too cramped. A Hovertruck, in an attempt to squeeze through a narrow gap, collided with two protesters, forcing police and medical staff to intervene and accidentally creating a traffic jam on the two main lanes leading to the bridge, "I should have taken Sigridstraße"
"Change the lane and go south. 300 meters away, there is a Fly-corridor (The area where the Hoverwagen is allowed to fly above 10 meters above the ground) for you to cross the river. The road on the river bank will lead you to Ritterfeld farm. From there, the L62 is just a 2-minute drive."
Gerdi laughed, "For a Blitz train fanatic, you know your way around very well, Hans."
Of course, she knows. Hans was neither surprised nor embarrassed when he was exposed. In fact, he felt quite pleased to have chosen a smart girl as his partner. Mama was in need of people like Gerdi. There were too many muscle heads in the family already, she had told him, and that a new element was absolutely necessary for their cause.
On the other side of the Süßwasser, a completely different world gradually comes into reality. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the cypress trees stood quietly in the dark like brave footguards, and behind them, the grape arbor stretched from the base to the top of a low hill where someone's grandeur mansion was looking down below like a king surveying his land with pride. Ritterfeld Farm, or 'The Office' as Lena called it, was located on a more flat and open stretch of land convenient for grazing, and that was why their stalker was spotted.
"What is that?" Hans softly alerted Gerdi and then pointed towards the grass field, where the faint shadow of a flat, round object was moving parallel to them at a distance of about two hundred meters. The object flew too high for a Hovercraft and was too large for an unpropelled aircraft. "A Haunebu?"
The blonde woman only took a quick glance at it once before returning to the road ahead, "Some gentleman must be in the mood for saucer's sightseeing tonight."
"At this hour?"
"Oh dear, you'll never understand those fancy folk, Hans. The head of the Einzberg family hated his son so much that he bought an entire continent and the position of Kolonialwächter (Colonial Overseer) for him as punishment. I guess you feel as confused as I did, but the whole thing is actually quite simple from their perspective. The son needed to stay away from the imperial heartland so he could not bring shame to the family any longer, but he could not live in poverty and lack of social status. If that happens, the family's shame would be even greater. Well, and that is what "not in poverty and have social status' means to them, you see."
The answer did not sit well with Hans nor did the way that mysterious Haunebu suddenly gain altitude and disappear into the night sky as if knowing it had been caught red hand. Restlessness crawled across Hans' fingers and toes.
"Can you go faster, Gerdi?"
"Of course. But you have to pay the ticket for me." She smiled in response and stepped on the gas. The wind began to howl outside his window and the scenery on both sides of the road blurred. At a turn, the blood on Hans' face was almost drained dry as the distance between the Paragon and the vehicle traveling in the opposite direction was only half a meter at a speed of 200km per hour. "Do you come out here often?" She asked, unusually calm.
"Oh yes...I mean just recently. Lena took me to Ritterfeld a few times."
"Ah, the cute waitress at the restaurant. Should I be jealous? People often say things can be dull without a little competition."
"Lena is just a friend." He didn't think he was lying about it. During the past ten years, even after Rufus' death, Hans had never once flirted with his childhood friend. "She's also a war widow with two children. No matter who confesses his love, she is obligated to refuse."
"Two kids, you said?" There was a flash of anxiety in her lilac eyes. "Does she often bring them out here?"
"That…I'm not sure." Hans was confused. It was very clear to him that Gerdi was never serious about this imaginary love affair to care about Lena or her children, "Perhaps Lena took them to the farm during her daytime work hours instead of leaving them at home with grandpa. Dogen, well, not very good at taking care of children in my opinion."
"So do they ever go with you?"
"Not as I recall." He shook his head and couldn't hold back his curiosity, "Why do you want to know?"
She shrugged, "Nothing. Maybe it's because I want to know if you're friendly with our children or not."
As usual, Gerdi again gave a half-joking, half-serious answer to mess with his mind, but the thought of becoming a father truly brought a smile to Hans's face. I will be a good father, he told himself. Mama said he would become a good father and she would show him how once he found a worthy partner.
The moment is coming close. I'm not allowed to fail.
The rest of the journey passed in silence. The Paragon travelled on L62 for about two kilometres then turned onto a deserted trail leading to a field where Napier grass grew tall and luxuriant. At the end of the road, a red-tiled farmhouse and three limestone grain silos gradually revealed themselves in the cold white car lights. The roof had been in the stage of half-collapsed since a great storm swept through the region in 2836 and killed its owner, the venerable Mr. Weiss. Disaster followed one after another, his only daughter, Nina Weiss, pursued a career in the Kriegsmarine and went missing in the battle for Eden three years later, so ever since the farm had been abandoned and the rumour of a red-haired ghost wandering the front yard on moonless nights kept the locals away from this road in every possible way.
Rufus said when we save enough money, the whole family can move here. He can both work on the field and repair machinery for the farms nearby.
Lena had told him so after they graduated from High School. Like millions of others, the waitress's dream was quickly shattered, but that didn't mean this farm should be let out here and reclaimed by nature. Mama needed a place far from the city, a quiet place where she could feel safe from enemies, hence an abandoned farm where people purposely stayed away could not be a more perfect candidate. Hans was very happy with this achievement of his and Mama was very proud of him.
"Cozy place you have here." Gerdi commented after stepping out of the Paragon, "I never thought of Mrs. Ruppen as someone who takes a liking to farming."
"Sowing seeds and waiting for them to sprout is the joy of a civilized race, Mama told me so."
Her dry laughter annoyed him. No one was allowed to laugh at Mama. No one.
"And a poet also. Now I really can't wait anymore. Introduce me to your Mama, Hans!"
Oh, it will happen soon and you will submit to Mama. Willingly or unwillingly, you will submit, Hans muttered to himself as he strolled across the deserted front yard. A cold wind swept in, blowing away all kinds of dead leaves and trash under his feet. The glassless windows and gutters immediately responded with their symphony of rust in the murmuring sounds of Napier sea. Hans knelt on one knee on the wet and dirty ground, his hands raised high as if inviting the moon peeking from behind the large black cloud to come out for all to admire.
"Hail to our savior in the stars. Your power is unmatched, your wisdom is transcended, and glory and eternity are your existence. Bless your devout believers and punish the infidels," He began to sing, "Save us from the darkness of the void. Free us from greed and tyranny. Englight us with your knowledge. For one day, all will speak one voice, nurtured by one mother, worship one god."
When he finished, the wind also stopped. A terrifying silence dominated the space, stuffy and smelly. The clouds gradually dissipated and the shy moon from earlier in turn illuminated the layer of moss clinging to the surface of the stone silo, shining through the holes in the roof and bathing his Mama in a beautiful silver light. Brainless fools would immediately call Mama a monster because of her big, smooth and pale head. Short-sighted ones would no doubt deny the superiority of her long four arms and razor-sharp claws. Envious sows would try to find flaws in her big golden eyes capable of seeing through the night or her ability to jump from a height of ten meters and land as lightly as a cat.
Primitives and savages they were. Soon, they would all get the lesson they deserved. Hans could feel it when Mama came before him and put a hand on his head. Though no word was spoken, he knew her heart was pounding with pride. He completed the assigned task. He had succeeded.
"Come, Gerdi. Come here and join us in this reunion."
He stood up and turned towards the blonde woman with an outstretched arm. In a moment, he thought she would scream and run away like the others. But no, he was wrong. Gerdi was the one he chose and she was different. There wasn't a slightest panic in her at all and on that delicate face was only a sad smile.
"What's the matter? Don't you feel happy?" He asked, his voice sincere "Don't you see how beautiful Mama is?"
With a sigh, she replied, "Yes, you're right. Your mother is truly very beautiful."
Crack…Crack…Crack…Crack
There was a sound of tree branches being snapped somewhere in the Napier grass and followed right after them were a series of "whozz, whozz, whozz". Hans could feel a microscopic object flying past his head for a millisecond, but before he could react, his back was wet and slimy. Terrified to the point of petrification, he only dared to slowly turn his head back before an unspeakable sight threw him into an unspeakable rage:
"Why..Why? How dare you…."
Hans roared but would never finish his threat. Another 'Crack' and 'Whozz' were heard but this time, nothing flew past his head. In his long shadow on the ground, Hans found a small hole in the middle of his chest, where the silver moonlight shone through. He fell to his knees, blood began to flow from the wound and his mouth.
"No…it can't be like this.."
Hans's vision gradually blurred. He tried to look up at Gerdi again and saw she was not standing there alone.
She had never stood alone, he realized. Eventually.
Whether it was when they dined at Mühlenmädchen or on the way to the farm, she had never stood alone. Behind Gerdi, from within the Napier grass wall appeared shadowy figures whose eyes were like two burning embers and above them, a huge Haunebu hung quietly in the air, indifferently as if it was part of the surrounding landscape.
"No." Hans could only utter weakly before falling backwards. His body started convulsing uncontrollably and he could no longer feel his legs "No…No."
"It's a pity that things have to end this way."
Gerdi had walked up and stood next to Hans before he could notice. Her voice was still as sweet as when they had dinner together, but her smile was gone and her eyes were filled with a deep sadness.
"You have always been a good person," she admitted. "And I always knew that,"
"Gerdi…I…please…help."
"My name is Nora Shepard. I think I owe you an apology."
Nora? Oh right…the name suits her very well. I was right, I was right all along. He wanted to declare his victory, he wanted to tell Nora even more, but he was too sleepy now. His eyelids felt heavy and as they closed, the last thing Hans Ruppen thought of was the Baumkuchen he had missed. I should eat it. Damn it, I should eat it.
-V-
The damn dream came to Thorsen again. Like many nights before, he found himself having a last stand against an unknown enemy in the fog, surrounded by the unrecognizable bodies of his kamerad who in turn shapeshifted into someone he might or might not know well in the past 40 years, yet their names he had long forgotten as well as their deeds. Behind him was his brave Asari captain, Suna, always wounded, bleeding, dying, begging him to leave and save himself at every chance but he had never done what she asked. It was an act so foul he rather shoot himself than commit and besides, there was nowhere for him to run to. He was a former Fallschirmjager of Reichswehr, a veteran and hence it was essential for him to know when the situation was hopeless. The enemy, for whomever they might be, was well-versed in tactic and steady in determination. To counter the MG-113's incredibly rapid rate of fire with Lasgewehr's semi-automatic fire mode, they approached Thorsen on both flanks, trying to overrun him with numbers rather than compete in a shooting match.
He always suspected they were human from the way they fought though he saw nothing but blurred shadows in the milk-white mist and understood none of what they were saying besides a random chant that might sound like 'Ave Imperator' as they charged forward and butchered him with their bayonets. That scared the living shit out of him in the first few nights but later on, it only caused him to wake up with more questions than fear. They said the dream repeated itself so often it became an omen but the problem was he didn't know how to interpret it in the most sensible way. The book that Suna lent him, ' Dreams and Omens of All Species' by a Salarian theologian called himself Aelok Halorna, soon proved that Salarians shouldn't be trusted with anything they couldn't measure.
"Screw this shit."
With a heavy sigh, Thorsen decided there was no point in going down this rabbit hole and he should focus on more earthly matters. Hand reaching out in the dark for sleepy and naked Suna was the right idea of earthly matter but what he found was only the cold traces of her on the bed sheet. The Haunebu was about to enter the day cycle, he knew for certain without looking at the clock. As an Asari and a ship captain, Suna always got up early and went to the bridge where her breakfast had been prepared and reheated. Thorsen's daily routine was no less busy; Checking the condition of their equipment in the armoury; Helping Galus and Folke, their Turian-human mechanic duo with the always-fuel-leaking Beze (Asari light hover tank/armoured transport) that sounded like it was about to explode whenever going beyond 40 km per hour; Trying to turn three green boys recruited from Edenia Cluster into something better than mouths to be fed before tending to his main focus of the day :
Making sure 35 restless assholes on this Saucer keep their mind and hands on their tasks, not at each other's throats.
A smuggling gang they might be but since Thorsen and Suna were ex-military, some discipline must be maintained here. This was by no means an easy job for one-third of the crew was Batarian but it could have been worse if he didn't talk Suna out of hiring some Krogan during their last stay in Omega.
"Time to get to work." Thorsen declared victory over his usual morning laziness and got out of bed, a mistake he soon learned. His body twitched as the chill attacked his bare feet and exposed arms viciously. Confused, the former Fallschirmjager turned his head at the clock on the wall "7:00 AM? The day cycle is 30 minutes ago."
Something had happened in the engine room and the later conversation with Suna through the control panel confỉmed his suspicion.
"One of the Fusion reactors suffered a meltdown and a small fire in compartment C-2?" He gasped, wondering how he could have missed all of that, "When did it happen?"
"Two hours ago when you were asleep." She casually replied, "Nothing serious. Our chief engineer Yesar has everything under control now. No one was hurt except for Kapp. He fell down the stairs in panic and hurt himself."
Thorsen sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose, "Second meltdown of this week and fourth of the month is serious enough to put a stop to this madness, captain."
"You've already known my answer to that. Pay Yesar a visit and see what he needs."
He needs you to turn the Saucer back to Sternenfort and the money promised for his retirement. That was all true but the former Fallschirmjager wasn't in the mood for another argument, "Roger that, captain. I will add the Salarian to my list."
There were few people in the mess hall at this hour of the day as the crew members preferred to take their sandwiches to a quiet corner on the Haunebu rather than eating at the table where a glance, a random colourful word could be taken as insults worth another fistfighting. Thorsen did try to solve the issue right after he became second-in-command though. Having Batarians break bread at a specific time of day, completely separate from Germans and the other was a great idea at first but it soon turned out to be a mistake. Everyone wanted to be in the front row, he should have foreseen that, and like adding salt to the wound, he was accused of being biased against four-eyes- freaks and not helping enough by both the aliens and his fellow Germans. In the end, the men sorted things out themselves which in time, proved to be not as bad as he feared.
"Oh, it's rare to see you're up this early." Tobias the Cook greeted him from behind the counter with a smile. Chubby, humorous, good at making meat pies, he had been with Suna ever since she started the whole 'business' 7 years ago. There were only four founding members who still remained here after all those years so every friendly one was a blessing to Thorsen. A discreet one also. Though Tobias talked a lot, no one knew where he came from or what he did before becoming a cook on a smuggler's Haunebu. Thorsen suspected that had something to do with his time in Kriegsmarine but in the end, it was just a speculation, "I'm afraid we have run out of the Asari herbal tea you like, Herr Kogler. Wouldn't you mind a cup of coffee?"
"Why not?" Thorsen replied with a shrug and made himself comfortable at the counter as his breakfast was brought up and served in a plastic tray, "Is everything okay around here?"
"Can't complain about anything except problems we can't solve. Our storage is only enough for 2 more weeks but we can't resupply anytime soon, can we? I hear we are entering the uncharted zone D-1."
It meant a week straight without any spaceport and the most advanced civilization they encountered might make a statue of their saucer and worship him like a god descending from heaven, "Can we..well, live off the land? Find a planet with a biosphere and hunt some game?" Fallschirmjagers were taught to do so as a part of anti-guerrilla warfare so perhaps this was the time for Thorsen to put what he learnt into practice.
"I advise against it, Herr Kogler. It can be dangerous unless you know for sure that the protein won't give you vomit or worse, death."
Then the solution would be rationing. No one was going like it and that truth hit harder after he took a large bite of the sandwich. Something that tasted this good would get people to lose their shit if they were only allowed to have half of it. "Does the cold bother you?"
"Not really. You always find heat in the kitchen and if it was some Salarian traditional dish, you would sweat like a pig" Tobias laughed, "But it does affect our Asari sponsor. It's not like she's complaining or anything but even you know Thessian cuisine should be served hot."
Ah, Thorsen almost forgot about her, the reason why they were willing to be blown to pieces, starved to death or worse, become a part of Tyranid Hive Fleet in the Uncharted Zone. The deal was struck between two Asari when he wasn't there to voice concerns and 3.000 Reichsmark paid upfront for each crew member silenced all objections if there had been any.
Even Gaz and his Batarian brethren said nothing on the matter.
That was not like him at all. Gaz was too smart to risk his life for 3000 Reichsmark so it could not be said Thorsen was paranoid in thinking he was hatching a plot.
"Did she ever come out of her room?" The last time Thorsen saw that mysterious Asari woman was 5 days ago when she arrived at their cargo bay with all kinds of trunks and crates, too heavy to be her luggage and too light to be smuggling goods. Her face was hidden under the white hood and cloak of Athame's acolyte but besides that, nothing in this woman screamed of priesthood. She had a pleasant voice and though her German was perfect, even Thorsen could tell her Asari was very different from Suna's or any Asari on this Haunebu. "Surely she must find herself in need of something besides water. Athame's acolytes are allowed to drink, aren't they?"
Tobias chuckled and then proceeded to wipe the counter with a towel draped over his shoulder. The surface had already been clean and polished so this was just a habit rather than anything practical, "Then she had to find it somewhere else, Herr Kogler. She didn't have any special request either except asking for some pineapple juice when i brought her dinner yesterday."
"You brought meals to her room? I thought it was..." He paused. Suna was the only one could enter that room but last night she was with him. Perhaps Tobias had already known about it but there was nothing to gain in reminding people that Thorsen was fucking his captain, " Forget about it. Did you see what she was doing inside?"
"Can't say I did. She waited for me at the door so all I had was a quick glance." The cook shook his head, "But it seems our sponsor has an interest in xenobiology. I saw a few exotic creatures on her computer screen. One of them is a Tyranid but I can't remember the name."
"Describe it for me."
"Huge, monstrous, looking like a shrimp, a crab and a turtle have a child together."
Tyrant Guard, the nightmare of German infantry. Without proper preparation, two of them were capable of tearing through a company of men, a lesson Thorsen had learnt in the most painful way. It was rare to see a civilian take interest in the creature. Tyrant Guards were not a common sight on battlefields nor were they impressive enough to captivate the public's imagination like Carniflex or Hive Tyrant. Were they dealing with someone on the quest searching for Tyranid's homeworld here? It made sense with what he had seen and heard but there were only a few Tyranid activities reported in uncharted zone D-1, which was the reason why Suna thought it safe enough to proceed forward with a long-range sensor that had a hard time telling the differences between an asteroid and a bio-ship.
No, she was here for something else. Thorsen could feel it in his bone.
"Perhaps you overcaution this time, Herr Kogler." Tobias told him, somehow able to read his thoughts, "I honestly don't take her as an evil person and I have met a lot of evil bastards in my life."
The former Fallschirmjager sighed, "Let's hope that I'm just paranoid. But for the record, Tobias, the road to hell is paved with good intention."
But before good intentions, there were always ill ones for him to deal with. At 7:30, Gaz arrived at the mess hall with two of his Batarian buddies. Tarkan the Tall and Pious Cacor they were called though the first one was just taller than an average Batarian, and Cacor was as pious as Thorsen was ordained. Both of them were cut from the same cloth still; selling red sand and illegal weapons until they had to escape from their homeworld to avoid the death sentence; partaking in pirating and slavery before deciding being smugglers was a far safer option. Run-of-the-mill Batarian who caused trouble wherever they went but Thorsen had long learnt how to deal with the like of them. Gaz, however, was a different story.
"Kommandant, it's good to see you here!" He greeted Thorsen with his usual ugly grin and insult. For a Batarian, Gaz was exceptionally hideous. His skin was so pale it looked like all the blood had been drained out of his body and due to mutation, one of the four eyes was icy cold blue. "It's rather chill this morning, don't you think? Oh, I guess something like that wouldn't bother you anyway since there are a nice bed and a beauty to warm you through the night. Good for you I say, but please don't forget us lowly peasants who have to make do with sleeping bags and our hands."
Most Batarians were very blunt in their hostility toward German but Thorsen was lucky enough to meet an asshole who knew how to sugarcoat his poison, "I suggest you file your complaint to Yesar or our Captain if you have the guts to do so." Thorsen told him briefly then finished his coffee. There had never been a point in a long and respected discussion with Gaz, "Have your fill then gather at the cargo bay. Suna wants it to be clean in 3 days."
"Get your own kind for that shit." Declared Tarkan the Tall with a snort, "Cleaning is slave's labour, not Batarian's."
"See no slave around here. Perhaps you should get used to this slave's labour before I find something worthy for you Batarians to do."
Tarkan's lips twisted in anger, his six fingers clutched into a fist while Pious Cacor stuck the air through his black sharp teeth, murmuring something in his native tongue. It had never been easy, Thorsen knew that too well, so he had already had in mind 2 days in a hot box and ration reductions as his hand reached for the stun baton hanging on his belt.
"No need for that, Kommandant." Gaz walked up and stood between Thorsen and the troublemakers. The sly Batarian threw his brethren a stern look. "You will do what Kommandant say, understood?"
The duo hesitated for a few seconds before stepping back with a grunt. As one of the founding members, Gaz had a certain influence over the Batarian crew and that was why Suna still kept him around.
"Can I have a word with you?" He asked Thorsen after the troublemakers had received their sandwiches and disappeared behind the entrance "In private?"
"What if I don't want to?"
"Really?" Gaz smiled mischievously, "Isn't it you who seek a talk with me ever since we left Omega?"
There was no point in denying that either so Thorsen agreed to follow Gaz to the airlock of the lower level where they knew for sure no one would be around at this hour. Though Kolonial Haunebu was the biggest kind of flying saucer ever produced and a full-fledged spaceship in all aspects, it was just a shoe box compared to the smallest cargo ship. A gravity field generator, five mini fusion reactors and a Mass effect Drive had taken up most of the space so privacy was a rare commodity here, especially during the day cycle as people moved around and carried out their daily duties. After making sure there would be no bystander, the Batarian went straight to the point :
"You know where are going this time right?"
"You drag me down here just for that?" He raised an eyebrow. It was a common practice for a smuggling gang to have its captain and sometimes his second-in-command was the only person to know about the final destination as well as the nature of a trip for safety reasons. This was a risky business, everyone knew, so snitches and info falling on the wrong ear could be very devastating. "Even if I did, no fucking way I would tell you."
"It's a shame then, 'cause I know something would benefit you and...well, everyone here greatly."
Thorsen didn't like where this conversation led "I don't have all day, Gaz. Say your piece and be done with it."
"I know who our mysterious guest is." Gaz admitted, "Liara T'soni. Daughter of Benezia T'soni."
Thorsen was stunned. This was a joke, he was sure of it at first but then, as his eyes fell on the bland expression on Gaz's face, he knew the Batarian wasn't lying.
"How do you know?"
"I recognized her back on Omega. While still serving the great Pirate Kotin Blood Hand, I was tasked with making a list of guests whom we could invite to the best ship in the Galaxy, The Omen. Volus merchants, Asari songstresses, Centuri diploma, Salarian scientists, and German nobles. Wealthy and influential folk, you know the type."
"Nice CV you have, Gaz," Said Thorsen in a mocking tone, " But I never expected less from you anyway."
He shrugged, "Everyone needs to eat but they often can't choose the plate they eating from. Anyways, Benezia's daughter was among the highest prizes back in the day. An independent archaeologist spending too much of her time alone in a ruin somewhere no one cares about wouldn't be that hard to capture, i assume you agree. Kotin liked the idea but he died before taking any shot."
Aria, Queen of Omega had the Batarian pirate King assassinated 10 years ago as Thorsen had heard. Couldn't tell if this was true or not since the whole drama took place when he was still far away in Kernwelt, fighting the Tyranid under the Reich's banner. Another life he had had, full of joy, tears and pride and the memories of it echoed in a bittersweet melody.
"And how can this knowledge benefit us greatly?" The former Fallschirmjager was annoyed by a dark idea, " If you are planning to..."
"No, no and no! Do you take me for a fool? The like of us will never get away with kidnapping Benezia's daughter."
No, you're too smart and I dislike that. "So what is this all about then?"
Gaz took a deep breath and then revealed the plan in a voice so low it sounded like a whisper "Our lady T'soni is not the type to get herself dirty for a few fragments of bone or a stupid jar dated back to the Empire. Her speciality is Prothean beacon. I recently found out that she has already had three in her career and is probably aiming for a fourth. Do you understand what this means, Thorsen? We are standing in front of a treasure and it's within our reach!"
So this was why he kept his silence the whole time. Couldn't say Thorsen was caught by surprise since Gaz was all for material gains but he didn't expect a Beacon to get involved. A treasure and within their reach? The Batarian always knew how to be dramatic when needed to but in this case, there was no exaggeration on his part. Prothean beacon was not simply an archaeological discovery cause the data within might take the history of a species into a new direction or it might tip off the balance of the Galaxy, causing a war in which billions of lives would be lost. How exactly something not larger than a coffee table could be that terrifying Thorsen had no idea, but it was what he was taught in fifth grade and in all those years after, he never put much thought into the subject except for the fact people would pay a ton of money to get their hands on a Beacon.
"So...Do you know where we're heading?" Gaz pressed on, "Or more importantly, does Suna know anything about this?"
Would he even believe me if I said no? Normally it wouldn't be hard to believe Suna kept everything to herself but since people knew she sneaked into his room, Thorsen was certainly accused of lying. Damn it! I never thought things could be this complicated.
"I will talk to Suna." He finally decided, " Still, I suggest you keep your mouth shut on this until the captain knows what should be done. No one is allowed to know, especially your brethren." Now that was the essential part. Thorsen could trust Gaz's wits and self-serving nature not to make any commotion but his kind always lacked the former.
"Jawol, Kommandant. Until the order is given, I will be silent as a grave" Gaz replied with a smirk, "However, it would be better for everyone if the captain made the ' right' decision, you know what I mean, do you not?"
That was a threat deserved 50 lashes but Thorsen had to let it slide this time. "Go tend to your duties. If Suna was actually crossed by this T'soni, she would not forget who rang the alarm bell."
After the Batarian had disappeared to the other end of the staircase, Thorsen was left alone to reflect on what had just happened. Gaz wasn't lying to him or for a better word, it made more sense for him to tell the truth. Yet if the whole mumbo jumbo was just as simple as that then what was the point of this secrecy anyway? Obviously, having a T'soni on board was something that should be kept in the dark but Suna had no reason to keep it from him, her second-in-command. No, there had to be another factor here besides a VIP and a beacon, Thorsen could feel it in his bones.
Should I take Tobias' place and bring Lady T'soni dinner tonight? The idea crossed his mind but he quickly dismissed it. No, it wouldn't do any good. She might refuse to cooperate and Suna might come down and skin him alive. The Asari captain was a lovely creature and somewhat of a gentle soul but weren't all Huntresses like that when they cut their prey from ear to ear? Perhaps it was all wartime propaganda and wild imagination but Thorsen didn't want to push his luck.
"Maybe the old man can give me some advice."
Yesar was 54, not old by human standards but in his large amphibian eyes, the end was approaching fast. Their Salarian, like most Salarians in this Galaxy, was not a pleasant person to be around, and the stereotype couldn't be truer as his retirement was postponed, his job was like hell in the last few weeks, and upon that, Felix and Marbo were still clumsy fools after three years of internship. Thorsen half expected he would get more than a piece of advice from the chief engineer as he walked into the engine room that smelled of nitrogen, GTX oil and nose-itching anti-radiation chemicals. He wasn't disappointed though.
"Thought you never come down." The Salarian greeted Thorsen briefly and pretentiously, displaying his annoyance by not turning around while long fingers danced on the control panel of the mass drive core. At the other end of the room, two of five mini-fusion reactors growl like wounded beasts, lights flickering in yellow. Not a pretty sight, He realized. Though Thorsen was no ship engineer by any merit, he knew they were carrying the burden of their malfunctioning brother below. "We were almost blown to pieces when you were asleep."
"I didn't hear the alarm." He replied with a smile, "Perhaps we are in need of some maintenance afterwards,"
"Everything functioned normally the last time I checked. It was your nightly activity that cost you the spectacle. Tell me, do you engage in melding regularly?"
It was so sudden that Thorsen didn't know how to react "Wh...what does it have anything to do with this?"
Yesar turned around, his alien thin lips twisted into a smirk but his large dark eyes as always did not laugh "I will take that as 'Yes'. Suna should have done a better job and warned you of the 'Deep sleep' phenomenon that some humans may experience after a few meldings. Harmless in normal circumstances but I guess you don't want to be sleeping while the enemy punches a hole in our Saucer, do you?"
Another reason to put an end to the thing between them so it seemed. Romance in space voyages only found its happy ending in novels, a reality well known when mankind began their expansion but Thorsen was an infantryman and before that, a dreamy farmhand who looked at the stars above and wished he was somewhere else. All were fine and nice at the beginning but the longer he held her in his arms, feeling the warmth of her alien body, the more he gave thought to the cold future waiting. They were criminals whose profiles had been stored in the archives of every known security agency; Family, normalcy and peace were nothing but a daydream. Besides, Suna wasn't as serious about their relationship as he always feared. What he was but another temporary attraction in her 1000-year life span? The answer was pretty obvious yet he seemed to forget about it or to be more precise, he chose to do so.
"Can I help you with anything?" Asked former Fallschirmjager after a long and heavy sigh. Somehow everything and everyone today was a dick to him in one way or another.
"You can start by telling your lady love to turn the Haunebu around and give me the money she owns. This madness has been dragging on for too long it become a real danger to every one of us. Kolonial Haunebu is not designed for this kind of trip, wandering into an uncharted zone, passing 6 relays in a row with 3 reactors and a Vorchar-vomit mass drive core. I'm telling you that the Haunebu is held up by faith and ducktape. But the real magic here is I'm still standing on this floor and rambling about it"
He always hates flying saucers and wants to quit, That was Suna's explanation when Thorsen wondered why their chief engineer always acted like having a stick up his ass two years ago. As a German and Fallschirmjager, Thorsen had nothing but unconditional love for Maria Orsic's invention. Civilian Haunebu was a great vehicle for inner-system travel although only wealthy men could enjoy it fully, armoured Haunebu was the irreplaceable companion of Fallschirmjager and Marineinfanterie (Naval infantry) for how fast it could descend from the orbit, carrying troops and equipment to the landing area safe and sound. For some time, he didn't quite understand the hatred but to be fair, he had never encountered the last and the least popular type of Saucer called Kolonial Haunebu before coming to Terminus Zone.
Haunebu, in many aspects, was a unique transport cause unlike other aircraft and spaceships in this age, it required no propulsion or mass drive core but a Gravity generator to function and hence was able to literally float in the air and move without making a noise louder than a fridge even when achieving max speed. Kolonial Haunebu, though retained all the core features of a flying saucer, was an engineering nightmare due to the additional Mass drive core and reactors so it could engage in FTL travel. The whole system was complex, makeshift and prone to malfunction which was no surprise considering the original designer of this special type of Haunebu was some isolated German colony that lacked funds for real cargo ships and had to rely on temporary solutions.
"The captain has been advised." Said Thorsen, "If a major repair is needed, we can land on a planet somewhere around here."
Yesar groaned, "Don't you hear what I just said? We have to turn back before it's too late. If we suffer one more meltdown, the gravity generator will stop working. Do you know what that means? The gravity shield will be gone while we still are travelling at sub-light speed. This Haunebu is gonna be torn to pieces."
Suna must known that too but she was still keen on fulfilling the contract. Certainly not for 10,000 Reichsmark, a Prothean beacon or two Asari helping each other in time of need. However, if those reasons didn't suffice then what could?
"There is something you should know, Yesar." Said Thorsen darkly.
"By the Gods, can't get anything good from you people, can I?" The Salarian sounded defeated before regaining his sarcasm with a shrug, "Alright, say what you must. I guess nothing can be worse than me ridding on a fucking time bomb."
So he told Yesar everything- The identity of their sponsor, Gaz's intention, things he knew so far as well as things he thought he knew. The chief engineer didn't believe Gaz's story at first for whatever that Batarian might possess, honesty was never one of them. Yet once Thorsen revealed the name of their destination, his attitude changed :
"Winden you say?" Yesar reflected, "Kara-99 Constellation, Randolf system?"
"I believe the Morasian beyond the uncharted zone called it Mei-kan, named after one of their chief gods." Winden was just a name given by one of the Krahenholz but since the region was insignificant and the Morasians were isolationist, no one cared to learn the difference, "Is there something special about the place?"
"Just an old declassified STG's report I came across a long time ago. Before the Great War, there was a group of German shelters coming to the area and finding a colony called Baxenfurt which later pledged loyalty to the Theocracy of Moras. Ever heard of that?"
"No, but I'm not surprised either." Many shelters in the Great Migration found themselves far away from the Reich's territory, surrounded by a larger and well-established civilization so it wasn't that rare to see some of them submitting to the alien overlord. Smart someone might say but there was no lack of righteous folk who called them traitors, "I hope the Morasian doesn't treat my kind too harshly."
"On the contrary, they were strangely generous for a bunch of religious weirdos. When your people came to the area, they found two planets fit for colonization. One was Winden and the other was Baxenfurt. The former was chosen despite the fact it was a cold wasteland compared to Baxenfurt which had a warmer climate and abundant resources. Not a stupid choice, especially when you learned the Morasian had a claim on that planet and they outnumbered you by a large margin. However, the STG's report stated that the Morasian for some reason unknown offered Baxenfurt to the German with one condition: They had to leave Winden immediately and promise never set foot on it again."
Scheiße, if that wasn't shady then nothing was shady. "So there is something on Winden that the Morasian don't want others to know? A Prothean beacon?"
"The report didn't imply anything but you have to read between the lines here. No one would do such a thing if they didn't have a skeleton in their closet" Pointed out Yesar before giving the advice Thorsen had long waited for. "If it is a Prothean beacon then I suggest we shove the contract aside and extract its database on our own. It's a rather easy job. The girl will not be harmed, of course. We just need her to stay in her room after the beacon is found and when we return to Omega, she will be free as a bird "
Sometimes his intellect and sarcasm make me forget I'm on board with heartless criminals. "That's a very quick change from ' We have to turn around', Yesar."
"Because the situation has changed. The prize is worth the risk now." The chief engineer replied with a smirk. "Well, it's true that it won't do me any favour if the Haunebu is blown to pieces, but didn't you just say we can land somewhere for repair, correct? I got an even better idea. There is an Elcor repair station nearby and a debt needs to be paid so we can get what we want at a reasonable price. Just tell Suna that, she knows the place."
Thorsen sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose, "You know, I was expecting a different advice from you. Isn't the principle of our gangs to always arrive at the location with promised goods?"
That was how the gang survived till now. The Kolonial Haunebu couldn't compete with other vessels in terms of how many goods would be delivered but it was stealthy enough to bypass even the toughest security net, carrying on board a small amount of rare Zero elements stolen from the Republic mining convoy, spaceship and machine components belongs to Turian navy, Illegal chemical essential for Red Sand production, high-end German personal firearms that every Krogan wanted to get their hand on, and sometimes individuals whose death would bring much more than the fees they paid for using the service.
"If you are for codes and principles then you should have chosen a Landsknecht company." Said Yesar with a dismissive wave of hand, "Here we only follow profit. You and your captain best remember that."
The rest of his day passed in uncomfortable silence. While assembling the new transmission for the Beze, Galus occasionally gave Thorsen a weird look when he thought his superior wouldn't notice. As usual, the stoic Turian kept his mouth shut and his intention well hidden but Thorsen didn't need much effort to guess what it was about. Unfortunately, the same strange behaviour also spread to some of the men he pumped into at the armoury or in the hallway which had Thorsen reconsider the decision as he walked back to his room after dinner. Either Gaz had broken his promise and told everyone about the great prize waiting for them at the end of the journey or it was the deed of their respectful chief engineer to ensure Suna would act for the benefit of the gang.
It doesn't matter now. The dice had been thrown.
if it was for Thorsen to decide, they would be heading back to Omega before Gaz could yell 'You German scum'. The whole business just felt wrong from the beginning and whether there was a beacon out there or not, the risk wasn't justified.
What is Suna gonna say about this anyway?
The thought annoyed him as he sat down on his bed, brooding. He had been working for her for nearly 3 years and a half of that time, acting like her husband, yet the Asari woman was still a stranger to Thorsen. He didn't know how she lived before this, why she abandoned her sisters-in-arms, and now he didn't know what her take on betrayal, conspiracy and dishonour.
"How is your day, handsome?"
Causally asked his Asari captain after the air-tight door closed behind her. Slowly, her brown jacket, white t-shirt and black underwear slipped off her body, revealing a sight that would make any man fall to his knees. Their lovemaking afterwards was just like her arrival, unexpected and unpretentious. She moaned loudly whenever he did things right and didn't hesitate to point out what he had done wrong. For an Asari, she was too blunt but how could he be so sure? She was the first blue alien he knew this well and as her arm wrapped around his chest, Thorsen wished she would be his only and this moment would last forever.
"You definitely have something to tell with that gloomy face of yours " She concluded and sat up, hand gently pulling the blanket up to cover her bare breast. "Well, who is she then? My charming pilot Iness or Dr. Heidi? I must admit I never expected Heidi to be my rival. She is a little old for you, isn't she? "
So is a 350-year-old Asari, thought Thorsen amusingly "No," He replied, "It's Gaz that you should worry about."
"Now that's a real surprise." She laughed heartily, "I know some Germans are into that kind of relationship. But with a Batarian?"
"Gaz has many additional body parts that I don't need, true, but you can't deny he's very useful when you want to know something that you're not supposed to know"
It took Suna exactly 5 seconds to understand what he meant, "My goddess, look like I have underestimated Liara's popularity. You know, even I didn't believe she was Benezia's daughter before seeing some papers."
"Now, everyone knows who she is. But more importantly, everyone knows what she is after on Winden and they all want a piece of it."
Of all the reactions Thorsen thought Suna would have, he didn't expect her to treat it like a shooting star flashed by their Saucer " And they shall have it. Everything in the Prothean ruin including the beacon, if there is any, would belong to us as a part of the deal. Liara's prize is a map of some sort so she has no need for the rest."
Thorsen found the whole thing even more confusing. Yes, the journey was dangerous and treacherous but even the greediest smuggler in the Galaxy would say they were overpaid. And what was the point in keeping the truth from the crew really? Thorsen couldn't understand it but then, the revelation struck him like a clap of thunder.
"Winden isn't our final destination. Now everything makes sense." He concluded quietly and looked at her with furious sharp green eyes, " For the love of God, Suna. What did you two agree on? What does this T'soni want exactly?"
There was a short pause, an awkward silence and hesitation in the Asari captain before she realized she had no choice but to tell him the truth "A Mass Relay. A very special one." Admitted Suna, "My people call it Maho, the Eye of Fire but I think it is known to the Germans as Helios"
