Chapter 14
Vienna, Greater German Reich
27 February 1942
...
Joachim was tired. More tired than he had been ever before. Between space travel, whatever the fuck was buried in the desert... oh and losing a fucking arm it felt as though all the fast living he did over the past 3 years had finally caught up to him. He felt slower, he wasn't springing back like he used to. For the first time in his life, he felt... old. He hoped it was just the blood loss or the regular morphine injections he was receiving as his body still struggled with the pain, but in between the numb moments, it was a struggle to motivate himself to do anything. Perhaps he was just still in shock, but being in shock after a combat engagement was something he could usually suppress. Something was off and he didn't.
He turned and looked into the mirror at his shiny metallic-looking arm. If it were not for the good fortune of the quarians he would have been useless. Mind you it was the fucking quarians who lost his arm in the first place. They owed him a replacement at the very least. He could scarcely believe it. As he flexed the three artificial digits he had he could still feel his original fingers clinching up. It was an odd sensation and all he could do was hope the quarians were true to their word and would have a proper human design ready as soon as possible.
It had been a week since the two of them returned to Vienna. The days were quiet and they had shared it mostly together in each other's companies. More often than not it was strictly professional, but there were flashes where things got... intimate. Usually, it was initiated by the much more eager Hanala, who seemed to be buttering him up for the whole song and dance which resulted in the loss of a limb.
He didn't know what to make of Hanala's connection to him or his growing fascination with her. He enjoyed her company. She was intelligent in a way he hadn't seen in a woman. He had been in relationships before, but none of them challenged or stood up to him as Hanala had. He had his share of casual encounters in the past, but most of the women he slept with probably despised him for what he was - usually, they were from the countries he had marched into. He could live with that hatred they felt for him because generally, they meant nothing to him. There was only one time he felt different. It was with a girl he knew from his days in Kiel. With all the raids against the city she was in all likelihood dead by now.
But now there was Hanala and... while under any other circumstances, he would have scooped her up and made her a housewife he was ignoring the big difference between the women of his past and her - namely the fact that she was a non-human. All of his racial education, all of his political training... all of it seemed to seem to fracture in the face of this strange connection he found in the alien. Yes, her species had been declared an Aryan race, but the relationship between them would produce nothing - no marriage, no family... it was purely selfish reasons.
In some ways, he was getting ahead of himself, but he would be turning 29 this year. Most people had a family that started long before 29 hit. His life, his entire adult life had been dedicated to the advancement of National Socialism. He hadn't planned for a life where others were involved in it. He of course had Langer attempting to set him up with his daughter, who in all likelihood was ready to have children at the drop of a hat as a good National Socialist woman was and if he wanted that she would have been happy to provide it, at least up until Fuhrmann because an object of interest.
For Joachim, there were two schools of thought about families. The first was he wanted children. He wanted to be a father as any good man ought to. The second was he feared being a father. Because if he was being objective, he wasn't a good man. He hadn't the faintest clue of how to be a father.
He had an example in Gerald Langer, sure. Gerald loved his family unconditionally. Langer and Hoch were part of the old guard, but Langer joined in 1927 when the SS was still in its infancy and before that, he was in the Sturmabteilung. He marched in the 1923 Munich Putsch with the Führer. That man could have been a General in the SS by now if he wanted to. Instead, he dedicated himself to his wife and children. He traded career advancement for the love of his family. In 1930 he declined a lucrative posting under the Reichsführer so that he could instead mentor a runaway youth he stumbled across. He got that youth into the SS and taught him what he knew as a master would for an apprentice and then got him into the first SS-Junkerschulen in Bad Tölz once he could teach him no more. During that time Langer could have gotten deep in the Himmler-Heydrich circle were it not for that sort of devotion to others. Hell, Heydrich could have been the one answering to Langer! But with his refusal now he would always be treated as an outsider by them.
But did Langer care? All signs pointed to no. He did not care because his family was worth the efforts... because in his eyes Joachim was worth that sacrifice. Hoch could scarcely believe he felt that way, but he did. To Joachim that was the love one should have for a family; and while Langer had that, Joachim did not. If he was not capable of showing that for his own, then what right did he have to be a father?
All of this justified his quasi-relationship with Hanala for now. Hanala provided him with no complications and certainly no unexpected family creation once they did get properly intimate-
The phone rang, interrupting Joachim's thoughts as he was in the middle of getting dressed for the day. Buttoning up his jacket, he grabbed the phone receiver.
"Yes?" He spoke a bit gruffer than he had intended.
"Herr Obersturmbannführer Joachim Hoch?"
"Speaking."
"Herr Hoch, This is Paul Koch, a part of the Luftschutzpolizei," the voice spoke on the other end of the phone line. "There was an early morning bombing raid against Kiel, perpetrated by the English. Your mother, Marta Elise Hoch was amongst the casualties. On behalf of the Führer I would like to extend you are most sincere sympathies-"
Joachim hung the phone up without bothering to acknowledge the news. He stepped lightly back to his bed and sat down, his human hand shaking as he pulled on his boots. Quietly, he slicked his hair back and pulled on his cap. He stood back up and wandered out of the room he now shared with Hanala. He took in a long unsteady breath as he closed the door behind him.
His hands dug into his cigarette box and pulled the gold case out. It was an inheritance from his father, one of the few heirlooms of the Hoch family that he had kept after he took off from Kiel and ended up in the SS.
His mother was dead... the last of his family was gone.
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and shook his head. He could not show this. Not to anyone, not to Langer, especially not to Hanala. The last thing he needed now was for her to think less of him. He swallowed the strange heartache and pressed on his thoughts a mess as he walked blankly down the long museum wing, vaguely nodding to any soldier who snapped out a salute to him.
He knew that he had been a lousy son, more so than she had been a bad mother. She was damaged and he only served to make it that much worse for her. He provoked his father into violence, he got into fights with schoolboys, his father, and even a teacher once. He did it to elicit a response, to give his mother one brief moment of strength, even if it meant Joachim would be beaten for it. He just wanted her to show him that she was there under the shell of the biweekly spousal abuse, starving as the hyperinflation set in and she struggled to feed him, grieving when the French occupation forces shot and killed her husband. She did not grieve for the man he was when Joachim was alive, but for the man she loved before the Great War, with whom they had four sons together.
Joachim never knew this period of happiness. He wishes he did. He wished he had known his parents before the war happened.
"Herr Obersturmbannführer?"
Joachim turned and found two young SS riflemen staring at him curiously. He had stopped moving and was simply staring off. Joachim took in a breath.
"Carry on."
The riflemen glanced at one another but went on their way as he directed them to. Joachim ducked his head, exhaling a shuttering breath as he furiously dried his eyes. He continued walking in a daze, his brain deciding on a direction, Langer's office. This feeling he was getting was so... wrong and alien to him. It ran completely contradictory to what he thought he would feel. He expected elation, not... whatever this was.
Perhaps it was for the best that this had happened. Mother had wasted two decades, miserable and weak. Perhaps she would be in a better place now, back when she was strong. Back when she had the children she loved, the good ones who loved and respected her right up to their deaths. Far away from the rebellious child who stood against everything she stood for. The fact that a socialist ended up with a National Socialist son must have been a disgrace for her.
Joachim's machine hand rubbed the back of his neck as he turned the corner and passed by a group of human science personnel deep in talks about the quarian vessel stationed here. None of the words registered his grief-filled mind could barely keep him focused on walking. He allowed a salute to several more soldiers before he opened Langer's door and stepped into his office.
He stood there silently in the dark, empty office and found what he was looking for, Langer's famed liquor stash. Joachim poked a few of the bottles of liquor in the cabinet until finally, he came across a bottle of scotch whiskey that looked appealing. He sat down behind Langer's desk and poured himself a generous-sized portion. Quietly, Joachim inhaled it and set the glass down, pouring himself another drink.
As he continued his binge, his thoughts fell to Hanala and her family. He wondered if she realized how lucky she was to have a family that cared so much for her, who wanted to protect her from men like him. Damaged like the rest of his family, only with a pretty veneer coating to hide the ugliness he buried deep inside. He wondered if Hanala realized how much he envied her for the few hours she spent with her family. They could barely conceal their contempt for him, but he could respect that feeling. They may have had their faults for all Joachim knew, but at least their reprimanding was through words for Hanala. Not fists, sticks and fire.
It also made him wonder about his future, which was a first, to be honest. Before all of this happened; The quarians, meeting Hanala, and coming to grow fond of her, he did not see himself surviving the war, and even if he did survive the conflict, his future was unknown. He had no goals no motivations to speak of. Hanala brought about a different thought process for postwar planning. He still did not know what the future held for him, but so long as Hanala remained alive, he could not see a future that didn't involve her being a part of his life. But was it even right to make her stay with him?
The glass cracked and shattered, Whiskey splashed against Langer's desktop. Joachim stood up out of his trance and realized that the pressure of his machine hand broke his glass. His hand still needed some serious therapy for him to get used to such a grip, or perhaps he would have to be careful what he handled when he had that much to drink. The last thing he wanted to do now was to grab Hanala in a drunken state. She was tough but she looked as delicate as the glass he had just smashed.
He muttered a long line of curse words as he leaned over and grabbed Langer's paper bin and scoped the broken glass inside. His handkerchief buried inside his pocket cleaned the pooling liquor. With the table clean, Joachim grabbed a pen and a piece of paper.
Langer,
I owe you a bottle of whiskey and a new glass.
- Hoch
Joachim dropped the pen and grabbed the bottle instead. Drying his eyes and stumbled slightly as he tried to leave the room. He paused as his eyes fell onto the telephone on Langer's desk. Joachim exhaled as he stepped back to the table, pulled the telephone receiver off the handle and somehow managed to dial Langer's number.
It took half a dozen rings before finally the Langer's line at his home was picked up.
"Hello?" The feminine voice called on the other end of the line, she sounded somewhat frazzled. "This is Frau Langer. Standartenführer Langer is not home at the moment."
Joachim somehow managed to smile at the sound of such a familiar voice.
"Lene… it's Hoch..." he managed to expel without slurring too much.
"Oh my, Joachim!" Lene Langer's voice shifted and reformed into a charming, enthusiastic greeting for the man who nearly started seeing her daughter. "How have you been? Oh, I have not heard from you in quite some time!"
He tried to smile at the enthusiasm emanating from Gerald Langer's slightly overdramatic wife.
"Likewise, I haven't eaten so well since we last conversed," he recalled, earning a soft giggle from the woman. "I did not call about cooking however; I was hoping you could help me out. Are you free?"
"Of course, you know I would help you," was her quick reply.
Before he could respond an overwhelming wave of grief and guilt formed in his mind, He wasn't sure what it specifically was about, but it was bad enough to make him lose control for a second, He bit his hand as hard as he could, attempting to use pain to control himself once again.
"Joachim... Joachim, are you still there?" He could hear Lene's call from the receiver.
Satisfied that he was able to control himself, he put the receiver against his ear once again.
"I'm here... I-I would like you to come down to the museum Gerald and I are stationed at," he requested as he leaned against Langer's desk. "I'll have the guards give you access, I need an eye for fashion and I think you would be just the woman to assist me."
There was a long pause taken by Lene, as though she seemed to be debating the request.
"I'll be down there in a few hours. I'll have to call in my maid for the children." The voice finally called, albeit, much more subdued. "Joachim, I... are you alright?"
Lene's astute observation nearly caused Joachim to break down. Pulling away from the receiver, Joachim took a deep breath as her hand clenched the bridge of his nose.
"I'm fine... everything is fine. Everything is all perfect," Hoch assured the concerned mother, his voice calm and collected as he added. "I'll see you in a bit."
Joachim hung up the phone line, His body shaking. He took a deep steadying inhale and stepped out of the offices and out to find Hanala, bottle still in hand. She wanted to go see Vienna. Well, she would need a human fashion lesson first. Perhaps it would help him clear his mind. He needed a distraction from this news.
...
...
How he found himself out on the grounds of the museum was much like how he ended up in the cafeteria. It was simply all a blur, what remained of his sober mind told him he should be on duty. He was wearing a uniform, that's what he should have been doing, despite having a quarter bottle of scotch in him, making his decisions now.
The scotch worked. It suppressed thoughts of the loss he had just incurred. Marta Hoch was the absolute last thing on his mind. At the moment he wanted a nice strong drink and something to eat.
Stumbling down the stairs past several amused guards, he found himself staring at an odd sight. It looked as though the new guy, Otto Skorzeny had taken it upon himself to tear a huge hole in the middle of the snow-covered rose garden and had decided to do a little horticulture himself.
By horticulture, Hoch meant Skorzeny was planting a duel barrel 20mm flak cannon covered in camouflage nets.
Well, Joachim, being in the state he was naturally going to be curious.
"What are you doing...? Skorzeny, isn't it?" Joachim asked, doing his best not to hiccough.
The giant stopped working and stood up, turning to face the swaying younger man, his lips curled, wrinkling the duelling scar and somehow making the frightening-looking man look that much more frightening. He took one careful stare at Joachim and turned away, uninterested in the superior officer's presence.
"What do you think we're doing?" Skorzeny answered the Obersturmbannführer as he pushed more floras over the gun barrel netting. "We're blending a flak cannon into the garden. The last thing they'll expect is the first shot taken at them is by an anti-aircraft gun."
Talk about overkill. Then again, this was the same man who nearly went through with a plan to flood fucking Moscow in the dead of winter.
"Shouldn't... Shouldn't you salute me first? You're on duty," Joachim spoke up, command somewhat returning to his voice.
Christ, he was in no condition to be out here handing out demands to men like Otto Skorzeny, Speaking of Skorzeny, he emitted a short, humourless laugh. The older man didn't even bother to turn back to face Hoch.
"Shouldn't you be sober?" Skorzeny threw back into Joachim's face, his voice taunting. "I can smell liquor from here. Besides, I'm here at the request of Heydrich and Eichmann. I don't answer to some bratty little boy who was promoted much too quickly."
Before Joachim could counter, Skorzeny stepped forward, looming over Joachim like a giant Kodiak bear. They were about the same height, but the Austrian was built bigger.
"Let me spill you a little secret, Herr Hoch," the commando informed him, his face curling into an awful sneer, twisting up his scarred face. "Heydrich and Eichmann are keeping a much closer eye on this project than you think. Eichmann is salivating to take over the emissary position that you have. He's probably going to get it too."
Skorzeny snorted and shook his head, still leering at Hoch.
"Personally, I don't give a damn who will end up in charge here, but you should," Skorzeny warned him. "You may just find yourself back in Russia sooner than you think."
Leaving a temporarily stunned Hoch, Skorzeny turned away and directed his gaze to a low approaching rumble.
"Right on time," he muttered approvingly.
A pair of Opel Blitz trucks pulled up to where the commando and the SS guard were camouflaging the 20mm cannon. The trucks were both packets to the brim with soldiers, who jumped out and formed into several squads, All of them wore a distinctive camouflage, half Stahlhelm's and carried strange-looking rifles, different than the ones that Hanala and he had used.
Fallschirmjägers. Skorzeny decided to bring paratroopers to the fight.
"They're the unit I trust to get things done and don't dick around with politics," Skorzeny spoke behind the younger man. "They'll keep your precious aliens alive. Just keep them out of their way, yes?"
Turning away from Hoch, Skorzeny left his presence to address the new men. Joachim sighed and headed back to the cafeteria of the museum. He had a bottle of scotch waiting for him and he had no patience to deal with anymore neither military nor political horseshit for the time being.
...
...
She had never seen a human woman before. Then again, the human woman never had seen a quarian woman before either. When Hanala watched as Joachim Hoch personally escorted a statuesque blonde, she had expected the woman to show any sign of emotion. She did not, however, make as much as a strained look at the quarian. Perhaps Hoch had explained to her on the way up to meet Hanala, perhaps it had been her husband. Langer as she later found out. Regardless, Hanala was quite impressed with the courteous welcome granted by the decade or so older Lene Langer.
There was no time for speaking casually. Joachim had her fit for an earpiece translator and the discussion of human fashion began.
At that moment, Hanala found herself standing in the middle of Joachim's office. Joachim stood off to the side, swaying slightly and looking strange... different in his demeanour. Lene Langer however was pacing in circles around Hanala, her hand covering her mouth as she took in the simple black and purple bodysuit she had chosen to wear today.
It was pretty and practical according to the mother, it serviced as a para-environmental suit. Though she may have adapted and flourished in the heat of the desert, she was still concerned about the rest of the world. Even if there wasn't a need to be, hands grazed the headdress. Wishing it was Joachim doing the touching, she turned to him and found searching and discovering a cigarette to smoke.
Hanala sighed. She wished she could have a cigarette right about now.
"Your fashion is... interesting, sleek, practical... however lacks... femininity, grace, delicacy," the older woman finally commented, taking a step back from the quarian. "I imagine you would like to blend in. I think you would look very nice in something conservative from Chanel... or something audacious from Milan perhaps. A long dress to cover your legs... perhaps some long elegant gloves some sunglasses to cover those eyes..."
Hanala had no clue what Milan and Chanel meant, but it was the next words that bothered her the most.
"Strip please…"
Hanala did her utmost not to turn purple at the request made. Lene however seemed almost bored at the reaction. As though seeing a naked nonhuman was perfectly normal for her to witness.
"You look as though you have all the same parts as I do, love," the woman reassured the quarian. "There's no need to be shy... Joachim, be a dear and leave. This should be private."
Hanala glanced up to Joachim, who stood in his turn, inhaling and exhaling a cigarette rather quickly. He glanced up, his expression amused.
"No, thank you Lene," Joachim disagreed. "My office, my rules, I'm staying."
Though Lene was not impressed by the defiance, Hanala was amused, amused enough to do as he said. Without words or so much as a look to Joachim, Hanala unfastened the light, colourful plastics and her headdress, leaving her in nothing more than a simple undershirt and relatively revealing underwear.
Lene glanced her over and stepped forward, what looked like a measuring tape in her hand. Somewhat disturbed, Hanala shut it out the best she could.
"Oh come now girl, again, I've done this before," Lene reminded the nervous Hanala. "There is absolutely nothing to be worried about... unless you have gills or... whatever oddity you may have..."
Hanala smiled uncomfortably and shook her head as she felt Lene wrap the measuring tape. She instead turned her gaze from the muttering Lene to Joachim who was leaning against the wall... just looking at her...looking at her as though she was consumable. It looked as though he wanted to take her right there and then. It was painfully obvious.
Just as Lene came with a measuring tape around her waist, Hoch finally turned away, still smirking as he rubbed his eyes. Hanala sighed and turned back to Lene, thoughts of sex were pushed to the back of her consciousness as she focused on the task at hand, dressing like a human.
"36B-23-28..." The woman spoke clearly, looking up at the quarian. "You have no idea how envious I am of that body figure. I would kill Gerald to have that frame."
Hanala fought the urge to blush as the German woman pulled the tape off her and stepped back.
"Thank you… I guess…" she spoke much more shyly than she intended.
Being complimented wasn't one of her strengths. She always felt it was vanity run amok, a trend that was quickly dying out and being replaced with a much more conservative lifestyle the fleet had to impose for its survival. Pride in culture, and the little things that made quarians, quarians… these things humans seemed to take for granted was quickly growing into a rarity for the fleet. All thanks to the aliens they once called 'allies' that left them to their doom. Now however they had a chance, a real chance to be free again. On a planet, reorganizing, one day fighting the geth for Rannoch once they were prepared...
Perhaps even convince Joachim to keep her around on a more permanent, official basis...
"Don't thank her too quickly," Joachim spoke abruptly, earning a head turn from both women. "She would kill her husband for a new dress, and don't tell me otherwise."
Lene playfully glared at her husband's friend and protégé.
"Hardly..." She started, paused as though she had to think and added. "Well, maybe for the latest Milan collection."
Joachim and Lene laughed slightly at the expense of the absent Standartenführer and husband to Lene. Still smiling charmingly, Lene took one step back and nodded her head thoughtfully.
"Yes, I think Chanel will look just nice on you..." she decided, trailing off before adding. "Heh, Funny."
Hanala tilted her head.
"Pardon?"
Lene glanced at Joachim.
"If I knew how fast the French would have crumbled I really should have given Gerald and you a shopping list back in 1940! " Lene giggled slightly.
Lene laughed slightly and glanced at Joachim who had smirked in their direction as his hand reached into his pocket, finding what looked as though to be a leather pouch, which he threw onto his table in front of Hanala.
"Take all of my Reichmarks and get her what you think is perfect," Joachim mumbled as he pushed himself off the wall with a slight stumble, his words slurring. "I got to go, Lene... Hanala."
Granting Lene a kiss on her cheek and a knowing smile for Hanala, Joachim left the two women alone. Lene hummed softly as she rolled up the measuring tape and turned back to Hanala, her eyebrow arched, her face contorted into an arrogance so well placed that Hanala could have sworn Joachim was possessing her.
"Do you care for him?" Lene inquired as she grabbed her fur coat and pushed back over her shoulders. She stepped away, finding a mirror. She leaned into it and carefully reapplied her lipstick.
Hanala, feeling somewhat plain by comparison, simply nodded as she pulled on her bodysuit once again.
"He's… interesting, yes," she admitted to Langer.
Lene inspected the application and smacked her lips carefully. Softly, she sighed and turned back to Hanala, her cold blue, nearly grey eyes inspecting every inch of Hanala's blank expression.
"He could have any woman in Germany, you know?" She spoke delicately. "Any good woman from good, Aryan stock would fall for him, and yet he has eyes for you."
Her smirk widened slightly into a carefully practised smile.
"If we are to become friends, I would suggest you do whatever it takes to keep him," she finished. It was clear she was not entirely happy with Hanala, but she would not voice it.
Collecting the leather pouch filled with the local currency, Lene left Hanala's side. Not before pausing and turning to face Hanala once more. Her expression appeared far less arrogant and much more filled with genuine concern.
"A word of advice, as well…" Lene continued onwards. "That man has been drinking all day, from the moment he called me to now. Something has happened and I suggest you get to the bottom of it."
Allowing Hanala a slight smile and a nod of her head, Lene departed, leaving Hanala much to ponder.
...
...
"You owe me a bottle of scotch and a new glass."
The drinking SS officer glanced up and found Langer standing over him, his hand on Joachim's shoulder as he took a seat next to him. Hoch scrunched his face and nodded.
"That I do old friend..." Joachim greeted. "H-How are you?"
"About to be dragged off by my wife to go shop for the alien woman…" the older man sighed, not in the slightest impressed as he sat down next to him, his hand searching for a cigarette. "Thanks, Joachim. We're on the verge of being attacked and you have me shopping for bloody dresses and make-up."
Hoch took another drink and offered it to Langer, who eyed the bottle wearily and shook his head. Shrugging, the grieving SS officiate took another deep gulp before he closed the lid and turned back to his mentor.
"Consider it payback for having me go to bloody North Africa," he grumbled mutinously.
Langer had the good sense not to laugh that he was partly responsible for what had happened to Hoch. His eyes glanced at Hoch's new arm. Joachim didn't blame him for it. He couldn't have known that Hanala had tricked him.
"My wife said you sounded upset on the phone."
Joachim eyed him wearily. He shrugged and rolled up his left sleeve, revealing the sleek, transparent cybernetic arm he now possessed, earning a wide-eyed stare from Langer, who had heard of it but Hoch refused to show it to anyone but the quarians.
"Just having an off day, I suppose..." Joachim lied to Langer reassuringly. "Lost my arm, you know. It's difficult to deal with."
Langer nodded, sympathetic to Hoch's plight. His finger touched against the Obersturmbannführer machine arm. Joachim flinched; the thought that machinery would give that sensitive a sensation was surprising, to say the least.
"Interesting…" Langer mused curiously. "I assume you broke my scotch glass with this?"
Again Joachim nodded and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Langer sighed and stole the bottle of scotch out of Hoch's hand, taking a swig and passing it back. Joachim drank next and smirked slightly.
"I-I got myself into a situation they don't teach you at officer school," Hoch spoke up out of the blue, the scotch loosening his tongue. "I'm in some sort of a... well, thing, with Hanala'Jarva. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's something."
They stared at each other for a long moment. It did not take long for Gerald Langer to burst out into laughter as he finished digesting where Joachim was coming from. Joachim buried his face with his hands. He should not have said a single word to him.
"Hoch, You know I was only teasing you back in Poland, right? I wasn't being serious!" Langer exclaimed wide-eyed at his drunk subordinate's admission. "My daughter rejects you for a Heer grunt, so you go ahead and taste test the quarian?!"
Somehow, the old man and the closest man who ever came to being a father to Joachim managed to laugh even harder, further darkening the drunken Obersturmbannführer's cheeks. It was so bad that Langer was clutching his stomach as he shook with laughter.
"It-it was your fault..." Joachim blamed, his eyes drooped half closed as he took another drink. "Africa was fucking… fucked… things escalated… well beyond my control. I-I think she might like me..."
Joachim watched as Langer exploded with laughter even higher and was reduced to a messy combination of coughs and giggles as his face too went red at the predicament he set Hoch and Hanala into. The coughing subsided, leaving nothing but giggles as Lager dried the tears of laughter from out of his eyes.
"She's a fucking menace, Langer," Joachim mumbled. "I feel so fucking stupid when I try to talk to her..."
Langer grinned widely as he nodded.
"All women are teases, or is this your first woman?" Gerald sagely responded. He paused, smirked, and then added, "So am I going to get any details?"
Joachim widened his eyes and shook his head wildly at such a thought as giving his friend such details.
"I watched Hanala lose her temper and chase a SAS commando across the Libyan sands and fucking murder him with a knife," Joachim firmly stated as he still shook his head. "No way am I going to spill details."
Joachim gave one look to Langer, took another deep drink and sighed, resigned that he was going to spill his guts regardless.
...
...
It was late by the time Lene Langer came back to the museum, her husband and several SS men were packing in many packages bought by Hoch on her behalf. It was too much, much too much. But she could not simply reject it.
She spent an hour in her old room, digging through the many boxes until she found a perfect first outfit to wear. A simple white dress, with a somewhat low cut at the front, a dark-toned cardigan, as Lene had described it; Lene even helped her with her first application of makeup, something that quarians used, but pretty much ceased with the advent of the exile. It brought a more human element to her face. It would be useful for closer interaction with human civilian life.
It wasn't long before Lene was dragged away from Langer, who was both exhausted playing 'pack mule' for his wife and was in real need of dinner. So Lene left, leaving Hanala all by herself. As she finished making her straight-edged hair curl just slightly, she decided that she was ready. She left the room, her long boots clicking against the marble as she nearly bounced down the hallway, and turned left, opening the door to the room that she now slept in with Joachim.
All thoughts of showing herself off to the human vanished.
Hanala widened her eyes as she stared at the slumped-over human she had come to care so much for. Joachim sat there, slumped over and staring at the floor idly. He looked so lost. It was a far cry from the man she had come to think of as near unbreakable. His hand reached up and took another drink from his bottle, doing so his eyes fell onto hers.
"You look very beautiful, tonight Hanala... really beautiful," he murmured, his eyes closed as he gave a slight smile.
Hanala allowed him a smile as she flattened her long dress, she leaned down before the drunk human. One hand fell onto his cheek, the other quietly took the mostly emptied bottle out of his hand. All Joachim could do was grumble out a moaning protest that sounded so pathetic to hear. He glanced upwards again.
"Joachim... Joachim, what happened?" she whispered as her hand fell over his. "You can tell me... You can tell me anything..."
Joachim didn't answer. He instead blinked furiously and looked almost ready to throw up. Considering that the bottle had been mostly drunk, she was surprised that he hadn't gotten sick. He seemed to swallow and shook his head, His hand ran through his hair, knocking the cap off his head and dropping it to the floor.
"The last thing I ever said to my mother was that she was a failure..." he mumbled to himself.
Joachim shook his head and started to laugh. It was an unnatural laughter that made Hanala freeze. Laughter that quickly turned into a sudden uncontrollable sobs as the man hid his face from the woman sitting before him. Hanala's hand touched against his, forcing the man to dry his eyes with his sleeve and turn to look up at her.
"Sorry you have to see this. There was a bombing raid this morning over Kiel," he admitted to Hanala, his face pale and his eyes red. "My mother was killed… and I'm trying to figure out how I feel about it."
The words numbed Hanala to her core. Her hand flew up, covering her mouth as Joachim drooped his head, his eyes staring at the bottle now behind her. The last of Joachim's family was gone. Though she knew how estranged he had grown from his mother, it was clear to her that the estrangement did not offset the agony of the loss.
"Joachim... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry…" was all she could say. It wasn't much but what could one properly say to a grief-stricken person?
The intoxicated human shook his head. He looked utterly worn out.
"I... should have listened to you…" he mumbled under his breath. "I didn't speak to her. I should have spoken with her... so much to say to her... so much... It's too late... much too late for that."
"It wasn't your fault, Joachim," Hanala reassured him, her voice growing higher than it was supposed to be, How could you have known that this was her last day? All you can do is remember the moments you have had with her... the happy moments before you two had your fight."
Joachim looked up as though she had backhanded him.
"There weren't any good moments," he muttered back, shaking as he lit up a cigarette. His words were speeding up. "After my brothers died, I was just an afterthought, Hanala. My parents weren't miserable bastards before... before the first war happened. Well, I didn't help them in the slightest."
Hanala watched as the man's jaw hung open, his eyes darting around the room and to her furiously. Joachim looked close to hyperventilating. She leaned in, her hand touching his chest as she pressed her forehead against his in an act to soothe him. It somewhat worked, his rapid shallow breathing stemmed back into self-control.
He pulled back from her, his head held low.
"Doesn't matter… nothing matters…" he finished finally, his voice hardening as though he was over it. "She's dead and I'm alive... better her than I... I suppose."
The quarian still holding the human blinked. How could he say such a thing, was he trying to shift his grief away from her? He didn't have to. She didn't think it was weak for a man to cry, though Joachim felt that way. Hanala reached out, her hand gripping Hoch by his shoulder to give it a shake so that the man would look up at her.
"Joachim, you don't have to be strong all the time..." She spoke soothingly to the silent officer. "You're allowed to grieve. You may not have had the best relationship with her, but she was your mother, she birthed you and raised you the best she could."
Hanala paused as Joachim's eyes stared at her. This was the first time she had heard about his sibling's fate. She could not imagine the sort of unimaginable loss that Hoch's parents must have felt.
"I will not pretend to know what your life was like as a boy," she conceded to the suddenly glaring man. "However, right now you're clouded with grief. One day soon any good moments you have had with her will be remembered... and regardless of whether that moment happens or not. You know you'll have the Langer's support... and.. well.. I will be here for you as well."
With the tension now broken, Joachim sighed, rubbing his tired, drunk eyes. He pulled back to inspect her empathetic gaze carefully. She felt his eyes travel from head to toe, taking in her appearance in his drunken state. The grief was gone, replacing it with regret for being in such a terrible state in her company. Slowly he stood back up from the floor, with Hanala doing her best not to collapse underneath his weight as she assisted him.
Not that she would mind it if he was in a more sober state... all she could think about lately was their first night back on Earth. They weren't very different. Joachim and she both sought approval from their mothers. At least she could still stand up to her.
"Sorry that I ruined your big reveal… you do look pretty," Joachim spoke again, his voice filled with genuine regret for his actions. Hanala smiled slightly and decided it was best to lighten the mood. She leaned in and pressed her lips carefully against the side of his mouth
"I know I am pretty," she replied as she pulled away. "Telling me I'm pretty only feeds my vanity."
The two shared a look and finally, Joachim broke down into a fit of real laughter. Hanala smiled. Having Joachim laughing was much nicer than watching him cry.