Baka-Tsuki - User contributions [en]

User:Krytyk

2014-02-19T20:52:14Z

LoliDragon: /* Antimagic Academy 35th Platoon */

==Info about myself==

Hobbies: Manga Editing (group: Manga-Heaven), Baka-Tsuki edit-patrolling, and other otakuish activities. Sports - running long distances. Games: Real life.

Favorite light novels: All of em.

Contributes by: editing light novel illustrations, and basic editing on projects, fixing awkward, horrible translations.

==In charge of illustration for projects==

Dropped the in charge section, lately i'm just working randomly, on random series, at random intervals. Also i will not work on LQ raws, it's a waste of my time.

==Translation schedule==
1. Antimagic Academy Vol. 2

2. ELYSION virtual region vol. 1

3. Antimagic Academy vol. 3

4. Antimagic Academy vol. 4

5. Waiting for raws, if there is no raws for Antimagic or ELYSION - Picking up Magika no Kenshi to Basshireusu.

==Schedule==

Dropping the Schedule section, apparently despite giving some projects priority, i ended up doing random things at random times.

Give me a hint if you need some illustrations work, if i like the series, and its illustrations i'll definitely do it.

--[[User:Krytyk|Krytyk]] ([[User talk:Krytyk|talk]]) 17:21, 23 November 2013 (CST)

== Antimagic Academy 35th Platoon ==

I'll be slowly working on it starting this month, but i don't have much time at the moment. I'll get more serious starting new year, I'm a complete novice at translating and english is not my native language, same for japanese. --[[User:Krytyk|Krytyk]] ([[User talk:Krytyk|talk]]) 00:46, 7 December 2013 (CST)

You've been doing great! Thank you for translating "Antimagic Academy 35th Platoon"!
Do you have the Raw's for third and above volumes? If not I can check out, if i can find them somewhere. --[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 10:48, 19 February 2014 (GMT)

Talk:Log Horizon

2013-11-13T08:07:10Z

LoliDragon: /* Making Log Horizon an official project */

== About honorific ==

Can we just use normal Japanase honorific such as -san,-sama, onii-chan, etc -- [[User:Endo|Endo]] ([[User talk:Endo|talk]]) 08 November 2013

I was going to bring up something similar in the forums to get the other editors' opinions. I will ask about this as well. -- [[User:Guardianknight|Guardianknight]] ([[User talk:Guardianknight|talk]]) 07:25, 8 November 2013 (CST)

We need someone to crosscheck with JP ver (TL-kun translate this from C -> E) -- [[User:LiTTleDRAgo|LiTTleDRAgo]] ([[User_talk:LiTTleDRAgo|Talk]]) 07:48, 8 November 2013 (CST)

Just asking if this project are approved, and who is the Project Administrator, Project Supervisor and Project Leader: ? -- [[User:X-Rates|X-Rates]] 00:44, 10 November 2013 (CST)

Has there been any consensus about using Japanese honorifics, or nicknames? For example, Nyanta likes to call Shiroe "Shiroechi," and Soujirou as "Soujicchi" Would the translator mind? Also, I recently noticed that the punctuation for sentences could be different in the Japanese version. Would the translator mind if we tried to be consistent?

Also, the Japanese LN liked to consistently put terms in brackets like so: <Debauchery Tea Part> or <D.D.D.>. How would the translator or others (but mainly the translator) feel about doing the same? -- [[User:Rasen|Rasen]] 09:48, 10 November 2013‎ (CST)

@X-Rates : I doubt we need them for now. The translator isn't from BT, I don't think we can just "supervise other community translation" like the translation were ours 
@Rasen : TL-kun give us the permission to do whatever we want to his translation -- [[User:LiTTleDRAgo|LiTTleDRAgo]] ([[User_talk:LiTTleDRAgo|Talk]]) 03:01, 10 November 2013 (CST)

Really? Fantastic! I'll try and do this in phases/separate editing session, from least objectionable to most. That way, if people really have a problem with one phase of changes, they can undo them in one go. Hope that's ok with everyone?

1)Japanese honorifcs/nicknames. Done with (v2:ch1-3.). Wouldn't mind some feedback if people like this, or would prefer the original. Naturally, the most important opinion belongs to the TL, as I sure as fun can't do what he/she did, and I don't want to step on any toes.

2)Matching sentences/punctuation to Japanese version. I think a number of the really long compound sentences may have been the result of Japanese->Chinese. On further reflection, that's basically saying I intend to review every line of the translation. I dunno what I was smoking, but it must have been good. Still, I opened my big mouth...my cross to bear, I suppose.

3)Brackets! <> Personally, I like how brackets emphasized proper nouns/terminology/group names, but they don't get used in English and people might find them ugly? Maybe single apostrophes would be an acceptable compromise? So instead of <D.D.D> it's 'D.D.D.'? ...Seriously considering doing 3 before 2, because 2 is the suggestion of a fevered mind.

== Novel Illustrations ==

Seems someone from AnimeSuki already has all the illustrations up to volume 6.

Link to the message post:
http://forums.animesuki.com/showthread.php?s=65005d4bb56f58b9836e2ecf8c18ef9a&p=4865516#post4865516

Location of the novel illustrations:
http://imgur.com/a/BMYhZ/all
--[[User:Shido|Shido]] ([[User talk:Shido|talk]]) 08:34, 10 November 2013 (CST)

== Making Log Horizon an official project ==

With 1 1/2 volumes completed shouldn't Log Horizon be classified as an official project?

I dunno, Madan no Ou had 5 volumes "translated" before it became an official project.

Wasn't Madan no Ou machine tl'd though?

Send a request to the admin to make it an official project and will be done soon.

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-26T21:20:14Z

LoliDragon: small corrections

{{Incomplete|percentage=81}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered the words to him, like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to be a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but none other than one of those Mephian nobles suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, they might know something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What…? A lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they wilfully made a show of looking down on slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies active in the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that lapse in time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

In the blink of an eye, the arena down below was covered in a cloud of dust. Seeing the turmoil in front of her, which was much like a battlefield, Vileena jumped out of her seat.

Able to see the the rampaging dragons and the many people falling victim to them, her eyes were reflexively trying to look for an airship. If she could cut in from the sky, she might be able to draw the dragons’ attention. There certainly had to be an old-type scouting ship among the number of crafts in the Mephian defence force.

“Hey, you, don’t come any further!”

“How rude, out of all the people that came here, just who – wahh!”

A disturbance occurred among the guards who were standing in an organized line. It wasn’t because of the dragons’ disturbance. There was a man who was running away, aiming straight for them, and although two soldiers tried to hold him back, they were cut down in no time.

''Who the—!?''

She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva got caught in her throat. Getting a glimpse of the bloodied sword, she recognized him for the man that should have been fighting in the arena just now. The Garberan princess barely dodged a single blow swung down from the side. However, tripping over the hem of her long dress, she fell down.

The other guards, distracted by the rampaging dragons, were moving about all over the place. Vileena nimbly rolled over on the ground and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier who’d been cut down. Sparks jumped out before her. The steel blade had dug into the ground but, within a short interval, he swung it down again.

Vileena’s vision was fixed on the point of the sword, as if she just fallen to the brink of the dark shadow of death. Then, suddenly, a single sword came down from the side, stopping the blow.

“Your opponent is me.”

The words came from behind the man – it was the gladiator who had been fighting him a while ago. His red lips formed into a mysterious smile.

“As soon as the dragons appeared, you headed straight this way. Who are you?”

“Bastard!”

The man shouted in a hoarse voice, without releasing his grip, he rotated his body and pulled out a dagger from his waist. With a movement quick enough to stir up a wind, he aimed for the gladiator’s chest. However, that gladiator – Shique – tilted his shoulders. He swept aside the dagger with his other sword, and thrust his first sword into the man’s chest.

When the man collapsed in front of her with a surprised look in his eyes, Vileena heaved a sigh.

''An assassin…''

It felt like cold hands had taken a hold on her heart. And then, suddenly realizing the situation, she looked over at Prince Gil’s side. He was jumbled together with several other people, hiding under a table. Only his face peeped out, quietly observing the state of his surroundings. Although his safety was most definitely important, it couldn’t be helped that her sense of disappointment in him only grew. When his fiancée had been attacked just now, this man had been quivering all by himself.

Then Vileena accidentally got startled, because Gil looked her way. There was not a hint of fear in his eyes, rather…

“Princess, get over here and lie down,” Gil – although, it was of course actually Orba – suddenly said.

He half-forcingly pulled at a bewildered Vileena’s arm and, after he made her lie down on her stomach like him, called out Shique’s name.
The gladiator froze over with genuine surprise. Seeing him so flabbergasted, Orba was driven by the urge to make a joke, despite the current situation.

“I’m a fan of yours,” he said. He then immediately gave a serious look. “The dragons are only a diversion. There must be a sniper aiming for us here. Find out where he is.”

“Ha, hahah...”

Suddenly being spoken to in person by the prince of his country, although he was basically given an order, even baffled Shique. Orba, however, continued without concern anyway.

“Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight lend a hand.”

Shique started running, quick to come to action, although he turned his head every now and then. He started running past the dragons that were going mad with blood and devouring several people. While making sure to guard his back, Orba peeked out from under the table. And immediately drew back in again. He repeated the movement several times, until a gunshot also reached Vileena’s ears for the first time.

''A lure?''

She realized that thought with a flash. He’d purposely exposed his body like that to invite the enemy’s gunfire, so that the gladiator named Shique could learn of the enemy’s position. This prince – just what was his true face?

A Sozos climbed up through the mayhem in the valley and was approaching their location.

“Your Highness, Princess! This way!”

Two men rushed in among the guards. Finally someone who acted in the right state of mind had come for them. Orba also decided it was a good time to leave. He stood up and led Vileena by the hand. She didn’t go against him and followed suit.

Orba was running. Maybe he had expected something like this to happen, because he had to act as a double. But right now, he didn’t have the time to think of that. Although he was worried about the safety of the gladiators, Orba decided that, considering that the gunshots had ceased, they were probably all right.

Orba and Vileena, holding each other’s hands, looked over their shoulders several times, as they rushed into a cave underneath the cliffs, led by the soldiers.

“Get into this hidden passage for now. It leads to the other side of the cliffs.”

When the soldier struck one of the pillars in the cave with his fist, the side of the steep cliff wall rotated, opening a space where only one person could pass.

“Go, hurry,” they urged the princess on.

The moment Vileena’s body was pushed inside, the wall somehow rotated again behind her.

“Huh?”

She raised her voice and turned her back when there was only darkness in front of her. There wasn’t a single lamp inside the cave, and although she looked for a switch, she couldn’t find it in the hidden passage. Furthermore, she heard voices on the other side of the wall in some kind of argument.

Surely the enemy hadn’t planned an ambush? – she soon thought.

“Princess Vileena!”

A voice called out to her from behind. Again there were two soldiers in armour, and came from the other side of the passage carrying lamps. However, they weren’t dressed in Mephian gear.

“Princess, make haste over here. A ship is coming to pick you up.”

“Ship? What do you mean by ship?”

“It’s a ship that has come to take you away from these savage lands, to a place more suitable for someone of your noble lineage.”

“You guys…”

While the Vileena was struck with a certain foreboding feeling, something like a gunshot roared from the other side of the thick wall.

It was in the instant Vileena entered the hidden passage.

“Hey, what’s going on!?”

Several soldiers who seemed to be guarding the inside of the cliffs came their way. Then one of the soldiers who had guided Orba quickly struck the pillar again, leaving Vileena alone in the passage she’d entered.

“''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.”

As he spoke, he pulled and fired a gun from his back.

Almost at the same time as the guard up front collapsed with a spray of blood, the other soldier was about to lunge into their flanks with a drawn sword. Without having the time to accept the sudden challenge, one soldier, and yet another one, got cut down.

Orba was standing with his back against the wall, watching over this sudden bewildering development. This didn’t look like some internal discord. With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping.

Orba gently leaned over, and took a sword from a fallen soldier. He concealed it behind his back for the time being, as the battle before him ended.

“Worthless,” the soldier who’d fired the gun said and turned around to face Orba. “What should we do with the prince here?”

“Let’s keep him hostage. Get over here, you!”

The soldier holding the sword held out his hand. It was the same hand that belonged to the one who, due to the element of surprise, had killed six soldiers in an instant. Not wearing a helmet, his face was beaming with haughtiness.

“W-Who… are you people?”

Trembling, Orba edged sideways with his back against the wall. The two had sneers on their faces, covered with their victims’ blood.

“Hmph, I didn’t know the prince of the Great Imperial Dynasty was this pathetic. After all, he can’t do a thing without his many retainers by his side.”

“A guy like this would become the Vileena-sama’s husband? Ridiculous. He’d sully Garbera’s prestigious blood. Now, Prince Halfwit of Mephius, come!”

Orba screamed and ran away from the man’s outstretched arm.

“I don’t have time to play. Now, if you don’t come quickly.”

As the soldier chased after him with mocking laughter, Orba promptly turned around, and cut him right up front with the sword he’d been hiding. Leaving a trail of blood and an accompanying scream, he jumped over his fallen opponent and quickly stabbed at shoulder of the flustered man holding the gun.

“B-Bastard.”

He drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s face who collapsed on his knees and he fainted.

Then, from the opposite side of the cave, other guardsmen from Mephius showed up. They’d probably caught the sounds of the disturbance. Orba quickly explained to them the circumstances – and ordered them to bind up the unconscious enemies.
After that, he urged them to open up the hidden passage, but it took him quite some time and effort because the soldier in charge wasn’t there.

''I hate enemies who stay hidden and gather knowledge.''

Time was precious. Without fully knowing the reason behind his impatience, Orba privately clicked his tongue.

Several minutes after Vileena had disappeared into the hidden passage, they finally opened the door.

The first thing Orba heard was the sound of men and a woman struggling with each other.

As expected, if he could say so, men were holding Vileena on both sides and trying to drag her along through the narrow cave passage.

“Unhand me, you insolents!”

Vileena’s voice left the trail of an echo throughout the narrow cave. The Mephian guardsmen set out ahead of Orba.

“Who’s there? Where are you taking the princess?”

“Stupid Mephian savages! Don’t you get it!?”

As the enemy soldier answered back, he pulled out a pistol. The Mephian soldier was about to counter-attack immediately, but,

“Wait, you’ll hit the princess!”

Orba took command as he tried to lay low. In that instant, suddenly something unbelievable occurred.

Having lost her restraints on one side from the man holding the gun, Vileena lightly jumped up and raised one foot from her dress. Taking in the brunt of the force from her foot, the gun dropped from the soldier’s hand. Quickly recovering from his initial shock, Orba made a quick decision.

“Now—! Don’t use guns, charge!”

In response to Orba’s orders, the soldiers armed themselves with swords and spears and rushed into the other party.

Although one of them showed signs of fighting back, in the blink of an eye he was overwhelmed by the Mephian force.

“Draw back, draw back!”

Eventually they commenced their escape, leaving the princess in place.

The Mephian soldiers raised cries of war and chased after them, but it was a narrow cave after all. One Garberan soldier came to a halt and started rapidly firing at them, making them lose their joint effort as they had to take cover here and there. Providing cover for his allies thus, when his bullets inevitably ran out, he removed a knife from his pocket, jabbed it into his own neck, and finished himself off.

Orba hadn’t witnessed these details to the very end. The rest was an issue between Mephius and Garbera, where he himself was unrelated. Aside from that, the safety of the people he knew weighed on his mind and he followed the road all the way back through the cave.

When he came back, the disturbance had settled a bit. The dragons were lying with their long necks on the ground, or leaning against the huge slopes in the valley, spewing out blood. They had sunk beneath the gunfire of the sword-slaves, including Gowen, and the artillery the Mephian soldiers had brought out. Having played quite an active role, Gilliam and Shique’s swords were wet with vast amounts of blood, and their muscles heaved along with rough breaths.

However, the strained look didn’t leave their faces, rather, their looks were coated with a preparedness for death. This was hardly surprising, because the guns the Mephian soldiers had set up were currently pointing in the direction of the sword-slaves.

“What’s the meaning of this, Tarkas!?” a red-faced Fedom berated Tarkas.

The dragons suddenly going on a rampage had been brought along by the Tarkas Group, and several people had witnessed some of the sword-slaves pointing their swords at Gil and Vileena. Although Tarkas had a pale face and desperately told him he ‘didn’t know either’, Fedom didn’t have the ears to hear it. If he would have had a gun in his hands, he would’ve likely used it to shoot Tarkas on the spot.

Most of the sword-slaves were forced to disarm themselves, and had to cross both arms over their heads. However, there was confusion on the faces of even the guards pointing their guns. After all, the ones who’d fought back against the dragons first were none other than those slaves.

Still shrouded with dust, the smell of earth and gunfire abundant, there was confusion in the air.

“Wait!”

Orba stepped forward. The surprised soldiers holding the guns made way. Fedom glanced over at Orba and twisted the corners of his mouth.

“What? When you butt in like this—”

“Who are you speaking to? Don’t you recognize me, Fedom?”

Shutting his mouth with a start, Fedom gave him a disgruntled look. Seeing such a thing for the first time, Tarkas snickered.

“This man may be involved in a country-wide conspiracy. Maybe someone took advantage of him, right? I believe that the Mephians who hired these people without knowing a thing are also responsible. But we can’t say who. If I see anyone shift his responsibility and execute even one of of these sword-slaves without permission, I will have his head – I’ll take it off with my— ''our'' sword!”<ref>Orba actually corrects himself, using 余 (''yo''), a more dignified way of saying 'I', instead of his usual おれ (''ore''). Seeing as there's no better way to translate this correctly in English, the majestic plural is used here instead.</ref>

“I agree.”

Turning around, Orba raised his eyebrows in surprise. Vileena came walking up to them. She seemed to be wavering a little, but if you take in account the mayhem from a little while ago, you could say she was carrying herself rather firmly.

“Ah, princess!”

Her maid Theresia rushed over to her, probably having been worried about her all this time, and Vileena greeted her with a thin smile.

“Even though it was a gladiator that aimed for my life, the one that rescued me was the gladiator over there. We won’t be able to come to a simple conclusion with the current circumstances, will we?”

Although her dress was covered with sand, her face bore countless beads of sweat, and her braided hair had become frayed here and there, her pupils were filled with a clear purpose.

''Straight after such a commotion…''

Instead of being panicked, she was analysing things calmly. Until some time ago, he’d only seen this girl as a puppet, but it was only after she was injured and knocked about, that it roused his flesh and blood, and Orba actually felt that she was a person with the same beliefs as he had.

“Besides,” the foreign princess suddenly cast down her eyes and gnashed her teeth. “They were probably our Garbera’s— General Ryucown’s subordinates.”

That evening, Orba was in a single room inside the cliffs. It was the same room he’d spent his time in yesterday, as it was made appropriate for the Imperial Family to stay in.

While he didn’t grasp the full story behind the situation, they had judged it too dangerous to go back to a city in Mephian territory with only themselves for now. With their military power currently forming a line of defence in the valley, they were waiting for reinforcements to arrive from the city.

Of course, several people from Garbera, including Vileena, and the delegation from Ende were being confined in the valley as well. At any rate, the atmosphere had gotten complicated.

The moment the Mephian soldiers, who had chased the enemy down the hidden passage, had slipped out to the valley on the other side, they’d witnessed a dragonstone ship flying up into the air. It was a high-speed cruiser that could carry about ten people, and it had probably been waiting on the other side of the cliffs until just a while earlier. So they might have been planning to take Vileena?

Vileena had said these were ‘Ryucown’s actions’.

Ryucown was a great warrior from Garbera. Even Orba knew his name. It seemed only obvious to claim that this chain of disturbances was plotted by Garbera.

''However…''

Orba started thinking it over. If that ''had'' been Garbera’s doing, there were too many unnatural aspects.

“Gil-sama? Gil-sama!”

He was a little late to react to the voice calling out to him. The page, Dinn, had just placed several wine bottles and three glasses on the table. It was these items that told Orba everything.

“You’re still a little late in noticing, aren’t you?”

“I’ve never been called by that name, you know?” Orba said, shrugging his shoulders. “Names aside, the ‘sama’ doesn’t sit well either. It’s awkward. You don’t have to overdo it when there’s no one else around.”

“No. Anyone can keep an eye out, and you never know who’s straining his ears. Besides, I’m not such a skilled person either. So I’m not confident I can change my behaviour when it really matters if I don’t regularly keep calling you Prince Gil. You too. If you don’t get used to it – if you don’t constantly behave like a prince should – you might expose yourself when push comes to shove.”

The still twelve, thirteen-year-old boy answered, puffing up with a noble’s pride.

“Get used to it, huh?” Orba said, as he noticed the full-scale window that reached from the floor to the ceiling.

Because the curtains were drawn, he couldn’t look out over the valley. While the balcony was packed with soldiers on guard, because the balcony itself protruded directly from the cliff, he didn’t have to worry that they could hear their conversation.

That was when he remembered, and Orba smiled, thinking back. When Tarkas had been accused by Fedom, he’d offered some timely help, and afterwards, Tarkas had bowed over to him in gratitude many times over. He would never forget that hapless, tear-filled face for the rest of his life.

“Seeing the number of glasses, who are the guests coming over?”

Just when he was about to answer, the soldier guarding the other side of the door informed them he had visitors.

“Let them in.”

Being flanked by two soldiers on the left and right, two people came in that Orba had ordered to call over some time ago.

Entering quite timidly, probably due to surprise and nervousness, were the person in charge of training sword-slaves, Gowen, and the gladiator, Shique.

=== Part 3 ===

“Thank you for coming.”

Speaking up first, Orba acknowledged the two as they came into the room. Although he displayed a princely thin smile, naturally, in his heart, he couldn’t help but find their unusually abashed behaviour amusing. The normally fearless Gowen fumbled muttered words of greeting out of his mouth, which he could barely hear, and Shique kept staring around in wonder.

He realized that, most likely, they’d been like this ever since receiving an ‘invitation from the prince’, and Orba had a hard time to resist bursting out laughing any time soon.

Dinn was also equally surprised. He had thought either Fedom or another prominent Mephian figure would come in.

“Wait – what’s the meaning of this? I can’t have you invite gladiators without permission. If Fedom-sama finds out—”

“''I’m'' the prince, right? Can’t I do as I please? Or am I not allowed to talk with somebody without your approval?”

As he brought up again their earlier conversation about behaving like a prince at all times, Dinn couldn’t give a reply. By Orba’s command, he helplessly poured wine into their glasses, and treated the two visitors to a drink.

“These guys have worked well as sword-slaves. If it wasn’t for their efforts, I might not have been able to pick up this cup. We should hail them as national heroes!”

He raised his hand to put glasses together, the two nervously joined in. Enjoying his companions’ reactions, Orba slightly sipped his drink. It was essentially not so strong.

Because ‘Prince Gil’ didn’t quite seem to go onto the main subject, even though everybody grew more uncomfortable, Shique finally broke the ice. It looked like he unexpectedly had more guts that Gowen in this kind of situation.

“Although I thought it strange that you spoke to me earlier back then, how come you are f-familiar with our names?”

“You said you’re a fan,” Gowen said. “B-But I haven’t fought in the arena myself these past several years. Even back when I was a gladiator, I don’t remember having any fights to leave such a mark. So, really, where Your Highness learned the name of someone like me…”


“Really, I’ve known,” Orba said, purposely grimacing. “Is it something so inconvenient that I know your names? Or does an outrageous thing, like a prince indulging himself in gladiator fights, go against your conscience?”

“N-No, never!”

“No, never mind. Drop it. I’ll give the instructions later.”

Although he didn’t know what these instructions were, Gowen’s face stiffened and Shique frantically took a step forward.

“Please forgive us, Your Highness. We are but lowly gladiators. We’re not used to a place like this, let alone know the proper etiquette when talking to people of royalty. We barely even know one language… If we have in some way offended you…”

Orba kept staring at the flustered Shique with cold eyes, but then,

“Kuh…”

Finally, he couldn’t bear it any longer and sputtered a laugh. He took another shot, and then Orba started clutching his stomach, laughing loudly. The two stared blankly at him.

Dinn turned pale, and kept rebuking him, saying “Prince, Prince!”. However Orba said, “Who’s this prince!?”, wiping the tears from his face and laughing once more.

“You still haven’t found out, Gowen? This is so unlike you! So you’re quicker with the sword than with words?”

Taking a smallsword hanging on the wall, he thrust it out right in front of Gowen’s eyes.

“Although I haven’t used it in the arena many times, it was you who taught me the basics of using a smallsword. Show refinement in your posture, strain your upper arms, but keep it supple from the elbow down – isn’t that so?”

He lightly thrust out the tip of his sword in a dance, performing his steps around Gowen. Shique then raised his voice in surprise. Orba gave him a wink, with a smirk on his face.

“Could it be – no, but – although his voice is quite similar… n-no, but…”

Orba took one step forward, aiming for Shique, who couldn’t seem to reach a decision. Shique easily moved his face away from the sword’s tip, swinging through the air. He took a step back on reflex.

“Will you allow me to scar your face? So it’ll become a bond between me and you?” Orba said, grinning.
Instead of Shique, who was moving his white throat, gulping up and down, Gowen raised his voice.


“Orba!?” he shouted recklessly.

The two sat at the table, taking in the shock, and it looked like not all doubts had been completely cleared away. They listened in astonishment as Orba explained how things had gotten this way. No one interrupted him in the meantime, and Dinn continued serving the three at the table with a half-sulky attitude.

“Hrm,” Gowen grunted. “I’ve been alive for many years and haven’t heard such an odd thing. But, without the mask, your face really does resemble the prince’s. Honestly, I already thought he was quite young, but didn’t think it was this much.”

“I thought about the same,” Shique said, having completely reverted back to his normal attitude. “Better yet, aren’t you more of a handsome man like this?”

Gowen shook his head.

“But is it all right to be so open about this with us? Isn’t this a state secret?”

“It isn’t,” Orba quickly said. “However, if I pretend to be a prince all on my own, I won’t have any breathing space, right? I thought at least you’d be able to keep your mouths shut.”

“Ohh?”

“What’s with those eyes?”

Receiving a squinted look from Shique, Orba uncomfortably turned his head to the side.

“Well, never mind. You’ll get used to my face.”

“No, that’s not it. Orba, it’s not that the mask’s been removed. Something in the atmosphere has changed, you know?”

“The atmosphere?”

“The gladiator in you, somehow, seems to have been crushed by something ‘invisible’ to the eye, yet your eyes seem to constantly be shining. While, among the gladiators who are mostly ruffians, you were apparently seen as some sort of dangerous person. You gave ‘em the chills. Now, however, even if there’s no reason for it, part of you seems to have completely lightened up.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 185.jpg|thumb]]

“Though, posing as the crown prince, I seem to carry this country’s weight on my back? You’re taking Mephius rather lightly.”

“Even so,” Shique said with a puzzling smile.


Strangely feeling like he was being treated like a child, Orba started to get a little irritated.

“Anyhow,” Gowen interjected. “If you’ve been trained as a body double before the wedding, does that mean they already expected a surprise attack like today on Mephius?”

Shique also turned serious and shook his head.

“That seems a little bit too strange, right? All of the Mephian soldiers were taken by surprise and were hardly able to deal with it. If the prince… I mean, Orba, hadn’t given those orders, we would’ve stayed in the confusion too, and both the prince and the princess could have been killed by the sniper, right?”

As expected from a swordsman with this much experience, he took a good look at the situation. Orba held out the wine bottle to Gowen, who had drained his cup.

“Ah.”

Raising his voice, Gowen gave a forced smile. He still was a little uneasy about this situation.

“Weren’t there any signs that Tarkas knew something?”

“N-Nah. He seems to persist that he didn’t know or was aware, but… that man isn’t the type to put on a false show. I fear it’s likely that he truly doesn’t know anything at all.”

“But the ones who were about to kill Princess Vileena, and shoot the two of you, were the newcomers that Tarkas had brought in. If I’d at least kept one of them alive…”

Shique curled his red lips. But he couldn’t have expected to arrest his opponents in the middle of the melee. There was only the one swordsman whom Orba had hit unconscious and tied up. Right now he was being interrogated, or possibly in the midst of torture.

“And Hou Ran? She’s so good at handling the dragons, if it’s her, she should know something about that rampage.”

“They say they’re questioning her about the drugs. Although it seemed that she let one of the newcomers take care of the dragons, it has credibility. But I’ve gotten a better opinion of Tarkas. Because she comes from a tribe of the Ryuujin Faith, and yet came to like handling the dragons, she was the number one person to doubt. And even though the provincial council finds it to be obvious that she applied the drugs, he continues to keep sticking up for Hou Ran.”

“So, when it comes to it, Tarkas can be an good guy?”

“According to Tarkas, after he was to be the presenting gladiatorial group, he was approached by a merchant who offered considerable financial support. Apparently, he’d jumped in without a second though, because the Tarkas Group could then somehow carry that load on its own. He claims he had to take in those ‘newcomers’ as a trade-off.”

“So ''that'' guy’s pulling the strings? But if he had to lay out a lot of money only for those newcomers, he must likely be on a short list of names here in Mephius, right?”

“That’s…” Gowen said, having regained his usual calmness. “If only it were so. Whether it’s a true or not, the person will always be an existence coming from Tarkas’s mouth. Nevertheless, you could say it was a bold cooperation, but there’s no clear evidence to catch him by the tail. It’s fruitless anyway. This obviously won’t be any ordinary foe. You can conclude that something of a larger scale is behind this.”

“For example, the Garbera Kingdom?” Shique asked.

“I believe there’s no doubt Garbera’s involved.”

Orba chose his words carefully.

The soldiers he’d personally faced in the hidden passage, clearly held feelings of love and respect for Princess Vileena. However, that was also why it was such a baffling issue. According to Shique, it was likely that not only Orba, but also the princess, was about to be killed back then. There’s no question that those people, who had been planning to help the princess get back home, would try to get her killed.
Gowen cocked his head in thought.

“It’s not entirely unlikely that Ende was about to exact revenge on Mephius and Garbera either. They too, could bear a grudge for the alliance they once wanted to form with Garbera, being called of all. Most of all, if these two countries become allies, Ende would be the first to get into danger.”

“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions now? If that’s the case, instead, it’s like virtually giving us a justification to attack Ende.”

“You’re right,” Orba agreed. “Especially if both royals get killed, the momentum will be terrible. Until yesterday, Mephius and Garbera were mutual enemies, but then they will join hands for a firmer cooperation to thrust the sword of revenge at Ende.”

“Oh. Such a princely speech, huh?”

“Shut it.”

Then the atmosphere was again about to become strained, as it suddenly grew noisy near the room’s entrance.

It looked like the palace guards had prevented it when someone was about to enter the room. In an instant, Gowen and the rest prepared themselves, as if a enemy was about to break in.

“I’m sorry. Will you please go back to your rooms?”

Hearing the guards’ polite words, Orba spoke up without batting an eyelid.

“Dinn, let them in.”

“Prince. On your own accord, again…”

“It’s okay. If you want, you can go ahead and reveal my social status.”

“If I do, you will be hanged!” he said in complaint, although it was the same for all who were already inside.
Dinn sighed and obeyed his orders. And although Dinn felt gloomy when he gave them permission to enter the room, he took a startled step back when the door opened.

Watching the ones who entered, Gowen and the rest hurriedly sat up straight as well, and stood up from their seats. Although had about expected this, Orba, too, was inwardly surprised.

Crossing her hands before her waist, walking gracefully, but showing a firm pace, was Princess Vileena of the Kingdom of Garbera. Behind her, her chief attendant Theresia followed suit. Although both their expressions were stiff, the colour of readiness and determination shone through.

“Ahh, even though she’s supposed to never enter the other’s chambers before marriage. Although I do understand this is a disgraceful act for a Garberran lady, this has somehow turned into a unforeseen situation. Please forgive us for our rudeness, Prince Gil.”

It seemed that the first to show her determination, was Theresia.

In any case, because the ceremony had been interrupted halfway, Gil and Vileena were still weren’t officially a married couple. Orba again took on the mask of a prince and offered them a seat, but Vileena remained standing stock-still.

“Please, have a listen, and pay no heed to my impoliteness.”

The first thing she said, Vileena said with the look of a soldier challenged with war. It was due to her errand, the subject, and, most of all, due to her expectations. Vileena charged that this matter was never an incident directed by her country, and that Garbera didn’t feel inclined to stir up trouble with Mephius once more.

“But,” Orba interrupted his adversary. “Is this Ryucown not someone from Garbera?”

When his name was spoken, she cast down her eyes for a moment. She tightly chewed on her lip, and immediately regained her composure. The scowling look that she gave, seemed to consider Orba as an enemy.

“Yes. Now that this has happened – it’s too late. When my country will also be informed of this incident, Ryucown will be stripped of his knighthood, and lose his Garberran nationality.”

“So this was as scheme by Ryucown alone?”

“It only seems most likely. Those soldiers who tried to take me away also used Ryucown’s name. And right now, there’s only one person in Garbera who has the strength to attack Mephius like this.”

“Ryucown?”

“Indeed.”

“What kind of person is he?”

The black pupils in her bright and beautiful eyes opened wide. Orba’s tone of voice was mild, and she hadn’t been prepared for him asking her such an unexpected thing.

“Of course, he is famous enough that his name is known even in our Mephius, but we know nothing of his true nature. Have you happened to meet him, your highness?”

“Yes… I have.”

Ryucown’s lineage came from a powerful clan of an area that had recently become Garberran territory and, in the generation after his grandfather, had officially become a retainer to the House of Garbera. However, Ryucown’s father lost part of his territory due to a skirmish with an equally strong clan, and his family was forced to practically live the life of commoners. Most of the nobles who had become central figures in Garbera, had supported the country that was built around the Garberran royal family as dukes<ref>The actual term used here is 譜代 ‘[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fudai_daimyo fudai]’. They were trusted lords of the Tokugawa family in Japan, similar to dukes in being the most powerful lords beneath the monarchy. The Garberran noble hierarchy described here, is about the same as that of the Tokugawa family in the Edo Period. Outside lords, given positions when the territory expanded, held a lower status.</ref> for generations and stood firm against any influence from the ‘outside lords’.

When Ryucown was ten, he served as a knight commanding a single unit. After getting his first military feat at the age of thirteen, and having many more successes up to the age of twenty, they said he was simply not able to get out from his rank as a knight apprentice.

The status of ‘knight’ was not a familiar term in Mephius, so she made it easier to understand by explaining it as a noble among warriors. In Garbera, all the people that led the army beneath the king were knights. Although not all nobles were knights, a commoner couldn’t ever be one. Ryucown too, because the earlier mentioned dukes considered him an outside connection, didn’t seem able to become a knight so easily.

And then, the story traced to five years ago.

At that time, a rebellion took place in Garbera against the royal family.

Having expected to be the leader among the dukes, a man named Bateaux, in cooperation with a number of local clans that had been assimilated by Garbera several years ago, had played a central role in staging the revolts. Although it was considered to have probably been a plot by Mephius, Vileena refrained from speaking about that for the better.

Nine years old at the time, Vileena had been out to play at her grandfather Jeorg Owell’s estate, but Bateaux wanted nothing more than have that palace. At midnight, they were struck by a sudden attack.

Although Jeorg, who was at the time retired, fought a commendable battle with with small company of men, the reinforcements he was waiting for didn’t seem to come. As he judged it pointless to just increase the number of deaths like this, he decided to submit. With the palace surrendered to Bateaux, Jeorg himself, Vileena, and the others were still held hostage.

Jeorg had been injured during that battle. Even without taking his illness into account, the wound was a severe one, and he’d become bedridden ever since. There was a short supply of doctors and medicine, and naturally they couldn’t get any supplies from the outside. And the soldiers, who had barely survived the battle, were also in a condition that, if one didn’t lose his life yesterday, he would do so today.

At that time, Princess Vileena was the one who took over Jeorg’s place representing the monarchy in the negotiations with Bateaux. While she had the body of a child, she argued with him on a grand scale. She insisted on keeping herself as a hostage and demanded of him that, first, her wounded grandfather and the dozens of injured soldiers, as well as the women, would be released. Bateaux, impressed by the young girl’s courage, complied by releasing half of his prisoners, but Jeorg would remain among the remaining half’s hostages.

This rebellion, however, although it had been very effective in its initial stages, also contributed to the internal discord among the families after their struggle for power, and one month passed where they were being supressed one after another. In the end, only Bateaux remained with his hostages at the estate, while he continued holding the fort. There was only a little water and food left, but Bateaux didn’t intend to lay down his sword. It looked like he was prepared to die in battle.

Be that as it may, his resolution made his troop’s morale drop. The people of the palace, who’d become hostages, found collaborators among several of the soldiers. Although several of them were tasked with keeping a tight watch in the castle’s underground waterways, one day, they succeeded in making an opening between the match for but a short amount of time. They tried to take it to their advantage by setting at least Jeorg and Vileena free.

However, Vileena refused. She wasn’t sure whether only her wounded grandfather and her young self would be able to escape. And when Bateaux was bound to find out that they’d disappeared, the small opportunity that they’d made would be ruined. Then, the people left behind would stand no chance. They would either starve to death with Bateaux, or might die, swallowed up in the fight when the Garberran army started their relentless assault, as they would no longer have to worry about rescuing the royals.

Although Jeorg was lying on the floor, he agreed with his granddaughter, and they worked out a plan. Vileena had secretly made a rough sketch of the palace layout including the soldiers’ positions. She handed it over to a young lad among the hostages and told him to ‘join the Garberran troops outside, waiting for this.’

After getting this information, the Garberran army gathered a number of capable hands and sent them into the palace. They used the same route through the underground waterways. Vileena guided them to the hostages, who were imprisoned separately, and they rescued them right away.

Among this small number of elite troops was, of course, the 23-year-old Ryucown. As soon as he gave the sign that the hostages were freed, the Garberran army commenced its attack. And, when the defending forces were too busy with the assault, Ryucown singlehandedly rushed into their midst and personally brought back Bateaux’s severed head.

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

User talk:Tarmade

2013-06-07T16:41:56Z

LoliDragon:

=== Oda Nobuna ===
Hey guy, I noticed that Vol3 ch 1 has an "epilogue" witch is rather strange... is this intended, like in HSDxD?

I have no idea... it was created by another translator... maybe you can ask him?

Tarmade: Hmmm, I think that was because the chinese translator divided the two chapters to 2 parts. So he did it too without knowing that it is all part of chap 1 and not epilogue. I will inform him then.

Is he actually going to do this?^^ I mean theres 5% left, shouldn't be that much work. Maybe you could translate that and end volume 3. --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 19:02, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: I had asked before but he said he will be finishing... I do not want to probe so much as it is his chapter and he can do it leisurely...

Ok, I can understand that. :-) --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 06:21, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

Hi! I am here to say thanks for your Oda Nobuna no Yabou translation! Every time I read a new chapter that you translate, I get more and more motivated to continue learning Japanese!

Thank you again! Your updates make my day ^^

--[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 12:07, 7 June 2013 (CDT).

== Oda Nobuna Edits ==

Hello! Had been working on your Vol 4 translations for the past few days. Sorry that I had not informed you earlier, but I had done some major edits to the translations. Some of the sentences were not sensible and others just had words without any proper stops. Thus I took the liberty to change without trying to change the original meaning ( in my view ). Sorry about this! Sorry about the lateness in telling you. Its of your decision to change it. Just to inform you, I will only be doing all minor editing for Vol 4 Chpt 2. So you will have no worries! - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 01:53, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: No problem, do what you want as long as there is no change in the meaning... I know my english is bad... Hahaha...

Alright! Yes, to me there is no change. But will wait for the actual project editors to check it. thanks! so I will continue with the editing. Though not supposed to say here. Keep up the good work! Oh, 1 question, I noticed the sentences jumps into the past tense and present tense very quickly. Do I leave it as it is? - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:01, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: Nah, it's just my bad english at work there... Correct it as you see fit. T.T!!!

Hm, ok. Your english is not bad :) Then, I will do my best as an editor. - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:07, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

For your Chapters, I noticed for every section you place 2 double spaces in between. Do you want me to convert that into Parts? Just checking - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:38, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: I do that to make things easier to read... Do whatever you like as long as the readers does not feel any different...

I have done it. I think it looks more readable now. Oh, I noticed that for Vol 2 certain 'interesting' English words had the Chinese words written beside it. Eg: Sukagi-ya. (醋鍵屋), [Rakuchi] (乐座) and etc. But in Vol 4, it seems there are no Eng words meaning. Eg, 妙觉寺 and etc. In your Names and Terminology, the words too are not in. If my Chinese is really great I could translate it, but I can't. Do you want me to leave them as it is? - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 05:02, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: That's what the editor did... I don't really have much preference on which is which as i leave it to the editors to plan it out... But I do like some consistency between the volumes...

Oh. Alright, then I will follow along the lines of your previous volume (Vol 2). Thanks again! Oh, before I make some silly mistake, I need for help again. Sorry to trouble you! When you say himeko, are you referring to the queen? or just any of the ladies? I was quite lost in this.. Because sometimes, I think it could be either. But better check with you.- [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 08:42, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

Himeko is particularly the young girl with black hair. For the chinese terms, if you want to leave them in, please replace the chinese short kanji with japanese long kanji. Wiktionary helps. :-) But I always replaced them with english words. --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 09:23, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

Hi! I am here to say thanks for your Oda Nobuna no Yabou translation! Every time I read new chapter that you translate, I get more and more motivate to continue learning Japanese!

Thank you again! Your updates make my day ^^

--[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 12:07, 7 June 2013 (CDT).

User talk:Rukiabankai

2013-06-07T16:38:08Z

LoliDragon: /* Random stuff */

Now I know what this is about. An amatuer here. Practice makes Perfect right? Therefore, please have mercy on me and please tell me if I have any errors. Am willing to do the necessary corrections and edits. :)

All the best in telling me!

By the way, I like to use the words Grammar/Spell/Words. Why? Grammar = Yes, it is grammar. No tricks. Spell = Spelling errors and punctuations. Words = Added, changed, or deleted some words.

== Daimaou edits ==

This is just a minor thing, but for the "[Akuto told the teachers to make sure no one] stole it because it was expensive -> steals it because it is expensive" edit, in my experience indirect discourse remains in the same tense (in this case, past) whether it's tagged with an "Akuto told the teachers" or not.

Also, some of the your other changes (e.g. required to perform a baptism -> required in performing a baptism) could really work either way, in my opinion. Careful not to make unnecessary edits. -[[User:AKAAkira|Akira]] ([[User talk:AKAAkira|talk]]) 23:14, 25 May 2013 (CDT)

Another tip: When editing, I think it's best to make all the changes for a chapter in a single edit. I suggest having a copy of the edit text on your computer that you can edit as you read (or a second tab in your browser), and then updating the chapter all at once after you're done. This helps keep the page history and recent changes lists small and organized. It is somewhat of an opinion, but I think it's true that putting everything in a single edit makes it easier for others to review the changes made to a chapter. You may already know this, but I'll add on that that whenever submitting edits, and particularly for larger or numerous edits, it's a good idea to hit the "show changes" button and read through all the changes you made again. Of course, for my advice regarding putting everything into a single edit, if you're halfway through the chapter and are going to stop for a while, then it's reasonable to upload what you have so far (that's more important when editing something that has frequent edits, I typically just wait all the way until the end). Or in a few rare cases I've split my set of edits into two because they're two very different types of edits.

Also, I'll answer one of the questions you asked on js06's talk page. I believe js06 uses single quotes for terms such as 'our vow' when it is dialogue, and is therefore already enclosed by one set of double quotes. And then he uses double quotes for similar things when they are in the narrative, or otherwise not already enclosed by double quotes, such as your example of "vow". I'm not an expert in composition, but I think that is the correct style (or at least the style I was taught at some point). --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 08:32, 26 May 2013 (CDT)

There is an 'undo' button on history page next to each edit (maybe it only works if edits don't overlap). There's no way for (normal) users to remove that edit from the history, so an 'undo' is really just a normal edit. You don't actually have to press the undo button, you can just open a normal edit and change everything you want to undo back to the original wording. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 09:18, 26 May 2013 (CDT)

Well you can certainly ask me questions, but I'm just a random reader/editor so I won't necessarily the best person to answer (compared to translators or supervisors). If you have general questions about the wiki, then there is a [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=16&t=4818 forum thread] for quick questions, and you may get better and quicker answers than I can give. Though, if you have a question about a specific light novel, it'd be best done in that novel's thread in the Auxiliary Brigades (or Teaser) sub-forum, or on the corresponding wiki discussion page.

As to your specific question about major edits, in my opinion, the most important part is to you check with the supervisor or translator. One way to do that is make a put your proposed change on the discussion page for that chapter; another is to post in the forum thread for the novel. Or depending on the translator, they me be fine with you making the edit, and then they will undo it if necessary. For the three examples you gave, I don't personally see anything wrong with the way they are (except maybe the first one could possibly use a comma after "proper students"), but if you put up your proposed changes in the discussion page or forum, js06 or someone else might comment on it. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:49, 27 May 2013 (CDT)

I hope I didn't offend you in anyway by reverting the toward - towards. I noticed that by leaving it as toward, the sentence didn't quite make sense so I decided to change it back to the original text. Lets just leave it the way the translator left it since it made much more sense the way it originally was. ---[[User:Code 06|Code 06]] ([[User talk:Code 06|talk]]) 07:11, 28 May 2013 (CDT)

:Reply: There're some verbs that require succeeding verbs to retain simple form; "felt" is one of them, so correct grammar is "Akuto felt [it] jump". Another example is "did", as in "Akuto did notice". (There ''are'' some verbs that require succeeding verbs to be in past tense though, like "had" (e.g. "Akuto had noticed").)

:I feel I should add that I'm still fine-tuning my grammar as much as you are, though, so do remain healthily skeptical. That first message i gave you, for example, I realize I may have tripped up because I thought you tried to edit it in the style of "[Akuto told the teachers, "Make sure no one] steals it because it is expensive'". I didn't consider that action-yet-to-happen thing, so stole->steals may not have been as incorrect as I had thought...I'm far more certain was->is was incorrect, though.

:Anyway, keep up the good work. -[[User:AKAAkira|Akira]] ([[User talk:AKAAkira|talk]]) 08:57, 29 May 2013 (CDT)

== Blade Dance ==
I've prep'ed a draft link for the prologue, which is right next to the actual prologue itself. In that page, I've made a more detailed comment. Basically, you do the same thing from the other chapters of Volume 2. If there's anything else you need to clarify, just ask me.--[[User:KuroiHikari|KuroiHikari]] ([[User_talk:KuroiHikari|Talk]] | ) 08:12, 29 May 2013 (CDT)

Chapter by chapter, if I'm satisfied by the whole thing, I'll just copy and paste it into the main version with minimal adjustments. Just make more draft links similar to how the prologue's draft was made. Thank you --[[User:KuroiHikari|KuroiHikari]] ([[User_talk:KuroiHikari|Talk]] | ) 08:58, 29 May 2013 (CDT)

== Invisible markup ==

Just a comment that comments on chapters shouldn't show up as to prevent breaking the story flow. If you wrap comments between lefttrianglebracket-exclamationmark-hyphen-hyphen and hyphen-hyphen-righttrianglebracket (<code><nowiki></code>), the comment can be read by anyone editing the page but not by anyone seeing the actual page. For example, try editing this page. -[[User:AKAAkira|Akira]] ([[User talk:AKAAkira|talk]]) 06:29, 30 May 2013 (CDT)

:Re: <nowiki> This was your edit: "No! My ambition is to destroy this world like a demon! World chaos! To become the said "Beast of Revelation" and rampage the lands like the holy bible! Uwahahahaha!" . That's why the rest of the page disappeared.

:Incidentally, whenever you began with I with the triangle brackets (<nowiki></nowiki>) it seems to treat it as an italics markup (if you're interested in how that works: <nowiki></nowiki> is another way to do italics, and multiple commands in triangle brackets can be separated by space, so everything after that comment had <nowiki>, <checked>, <that>, etc. properties... Of course, only was a legit markup</nowiki>). So, to state the obvious, the rest of the page kinda turned into italics where there weren't meant to be. -[[User:AKAAkira|Akira]] ([[User talk:AKAAkira|talk]]) 19:07, 30 May 2013 (CDT)

Comment from the sidelines: <nowiki> '' </nowiki> has to be put at the beginning of every line that you want italicized but with the <nowiki> </nowiki> marks you can encompass multiple lines with them. Same rules apply to <nowiki> ''' and . '' and ''' </nowiki> will stop affecting the text when it hits a line break or you close it with another <nowiki> ''</nowiki>. So if you want something that has a line break in it italicized and you put <nowiki> ''</nowiki> at the beginning and end, you will end up with only up until the line break in italics.

Also, make sure not to mistake <nowiki>''</nowiki> for a quotation mark, I do that all the time. [[User:Kory|Kory]] 09:07, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

==Re: Oda Nobuna==
''Quote: "I saw for Volume4Chapter2, you took out the translators note, and rant. Well, just wondering, shouldn't it be placed under those 'Translators Notes' or the 'on-page notes'?"''

I do not think that the translator's personal commentary about the development of the story (rant) is something that is directly related to the chapter. Other translator's Notes are used for explaining some Japanese cultural terms or other potential translation errors, so I followed the guide line from there.

However, the TL notes and TL rants of the chapters of Oda Nobuna are mostly the translator' personal opinion of the chapter or commentary, something that would be more suited for forums or social media networks instead of a chapter article.

Here are one sample of a TL Note and a TL rant;

''"TL Note: I can't say how embarrassed I am for translating this. God, did those chinese translators translate it wrong!? *facepalm*"''

''"TL Rant: Now we know Chuunibyou + Otaku + Man with power = Dangerous pervert."''

Thanks. [[User:Primus de Pedos|Primus de Pedos]] ([[User talk:Primus de Pedos|talk]]) 10:04, 6 June 2013 (CDT)

==Random stuff==

Er, actually, ah, it can be found in the 'advanced' tab when you edit something like this page, clicking on it will cause a drop down bar to appear. then clicking on the 'make table button' brings up a pop-up window, then checking 'make table sortable' will do the job. er, yeah, this is what I did to make a table sortable. . [[User:Carinderyeah|Carinderyeah]] ([[User talk:Carinderyeah|talk]]) 00:18, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

Oh, my bad ^^ I just copy passed the User line and somehow forgot to change it.

[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 16:37, 7 June 2013 (GMT)
(GMT

User talk:Tarmade

2013-06-07T16:36:11Z

LoliDragon:

=== Oda Nobuna ===
Hey guy, I noticed that Vol3 ch 1 has an "epilogue" witch is rather strange... is this intended, like in HSDxD?

I have no idea... it was created by another translator... maybe you can ask him?

Tarmade: Hmmm, I think that was because the chinese translator divided the two chapters to 2 parts. So he did it too without knowing that it is all part of chap 1 and not epilogue. I will inform him then.

Is he actually going to do this?^^ I mean theres 5% left, shouldn't be that much work. Maybe you could translate that and end volume 3. --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 19:02, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: I had asked before but he said he will be finishing... I do not want to probe so much as it is his chapter and he can do it leisurely...

Ok, I can understand that. :-) --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 06:21, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

== Oda Nobuna Edits ==

Hello! Had been working on your Vol 4 translations for the past few days. Sorry that I had not informed you earlier, but I had done some major edits to the translations. Some of the sentences were not sensible and others just had words without any proper stops. Thus I took the liberty to change without trying to change the original meaning ( in my view ). Sorry about this! Sorry about the lateness in telling you. Its of your decision to change it. Just to inform you, I will only be doing all minor editing for Vol 4 Chpt 2. So you will have no worries! - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 01:53, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: No problem, do what you want as long as there is no change in the meaning... I know my english is bad... Hahaha...

Alright! Yes, to me there is no change. But will wait for the actual project editors to check it. thanks! so I will continue with the editing. Though not supposed to say here. Keep up the good work! Oh, 1 question, I noticed the sentences jumps into the past tense and present tense very quickly. Do I leave it as it is? - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:01, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: Nah, it's just my bad english at work there... Correct it as you see fit. T.T!!!

Hm, ok. Your english is not bad :) Then, I will do my best as an editor. - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:07, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

For your Chapters, I noticed for every section you place 2 double spaces in between. Do you want me to convert that into Parts? Just checking - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:38, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: I do that to make things easier to read... Do whatever you like as long as the readers does not feel any different...

I have done it. I think it looks more readable now. Oh, I noticed that for Vol 2 certain 'interesting' English words had the Chinese words written beside it. Eg: Sukagi-ya. (醋鍵屋), [Rakuchi] (乐座) and etc. But in Vol 4, it seems there are no Eng words meaning. Eg, 妙觉寺 and etc. In your Names and Terminology, the words too are not in. If my Chinese is really great I could translate it, but I can't. Do you want me to leave them as it is? - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 05:02, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: That's what the editor did... I don't really have much preference on which is which as i leave it to the editors to plan it out... But I do like some consistency between the volumes...

Oh. Alright, then I will follow along the lines of your previous volume (Vol 2). Thanks again! Oh, before I make some silly mistake, I need for help again. Sorry to trouble you! When you say himeko, are you referring to the queen? or just any of the ladies? I was quite lost in this.. Because sometimes, I think it could be either. But better check with you.- [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 08:42, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

Himeko is particularly the young girl with black hair. For the chinese terms, if you want to leave them in, please replace the chinese short kanji with japanese long kanji. Wiktionary helps. :-) But I always replaced them with english words. --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 09:23, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

Hi! I am here to say thanks for your Oda Nobuna no Yabou translation! Every time I read new chapter that you translate, I get more and more motivate to continue learning Japanese!

Thank you again! Your updates make my day ^^

--[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 12:07, 7 June 2013 (CDT).

User talk:Tarmade

2013-06-07T14:56:31Z

LoliDragon: /* Oda Nobuna Edits */

=== Oda Nobuna ===
Hey guy, I noticed that Vol3 ch 1 has an "epilogue" witch is rather strange... is this intended, like in HSDxD?

I have no idea... it was created by another translator... maybe you can ask him?

Tarmade: Hmmm, I think that was because the chinese translator divided the two chapters to 2 parts. So he did it too without knowing that it is all part of chap 1 and not epilogue. I will inform him then.

Is he actually going to do this?^^ I mean theres 5% left, shouldn't be that much work. Maybe you could translate that and end volume 3. --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 19:02, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: I had asked before but he said he will be finishing... I do not want to probe so much as it is his chapter and he can do it leisurely...

Ok, I can understand that. :-) --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 06:21, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

== Oda Nobuna Edits ==

Hello! Had been working on your Vol 4 translations for the past few days. Sorry that I had not informed you earlier, but I had done some major edits to the translations. Some of the sentences were not sensible and others just had words without any proper stops. Thus I took the liberty to change without trying to change the original meaning ( in my view ). Sorry about this! Sorry about the lateness in telling you. Its of your decision to change it. Just to inform you, I will only be doing all minor editing for Vol 4 Chpt 2. So you will have no worries! - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 01:53, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: No problem, do what you want as long as there is no change in the meaning... I know my english is bad... Hahaha...

Alright! Yes, to me there is no change. But will wait for the actual project editors to check it. thanks! so I will continue with the editing. Though not supposed to say here. Keep up the good work! Oh, 1 question, I noticed the sentences jumps into the past tense and present tense very quickly. Do I leave it as it is? - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:01, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: Nah, it's just my bad english at work there... Correct it as you see fit. T.T!!!

Hm, ok. Your english is not bad :) Then, I will do my best as an editor. - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:07, 2 June 2013 (CDT)

For your Chapters, I noticed for every section you place 2 double spaces in between. Do you want me to convert that into Parts? Just checking - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 02:38, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: I do that to make things easier to read... Do whatever you like as long as the readers does not feel any different...

I have done it. I think it looks more readable now. Oh, I noticed that for Vol 2 certain 'interesting' English words had the Chinese words written beside it. Eg: Sukagi-ya. (醋鍵屋), [Rakuchi] (乐座) and etc. But in Vol 4, it seems there are no Eng words meaning. Eg, 妙觉寺 and etc. In your Names and Terminology, the words too are not in. If my Chinese is really great I could translate it, but I can't. Do you want me to leave them as it is? - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 05:02, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

Tarmade: That's what the editor did... I don't really have much preference on which is which as i leave it to the editors to plan it out... But I do like some consistency between the volumes...

Oh. Alright, then I will follow along the lines of your previous volume (Vol 2). Thanks again! Oh, before I make some silly mistake, I need for help again. Sorry to trouble you! When you say himeko, are you referring to the queen? or just any of the ladies? I was quite lost in this.. Because sometimes, I think it could be either. But better check with you.- [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 08:42, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

Himeko is particularly the young girl with black hair. For the chinese terms, if you want to leave them in, please replace the chinese short kanji with japanese long kanji. Wiktionary helps. :-) But I always replaced them with english words. --[[User:Thuruk|Thuruk]] ([[User talk:Thuruk|talk]]) 09:23, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

Hi! I am here to say thanks for your Oda Nobuna no Yabou translation! Every time I read new chapter that you translate, I get more and more motivate to continue learning Japanese!

Thank you again! Your updates make my day ^^

- [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 09:23, 7 June 2013 (CDT)

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2013-05-31T13:07:17Z

LoliDragon: /* Updates */

[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration Page]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 August, 2012 : Project Creation
* 29 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1
* April-May, 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 2

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:Gabgrave|Gabgrave]]
;MIA
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]
*[[User:Alexpte|Alexpte]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2013-05-31T13:05:54Z

LoliDragon:

[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration Page]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 August, 2012 : Project Creation
* 29 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:Gabgrave|Gabgrave]]
;MIA
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]
*[[User:Alexpte|Alexpte]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2013-05-31T13:05:26Z

LoliDragon: /* Project Staff */

{{Template:STALLED}}

[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration Page]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 August, 2012 : Project Creation
* 29 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:Gabgrave|Gabgrave]]
;MIA
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]
*[[User:Alexpte|Alexpte]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter2

2013-05-31T13:04:48Z

LoliDragon:

<big>Chapter two</big>

<big>'''The Girl from the West'''</big>

'''+++January 13, 1983''' 
'''++1100hrs''' 
'''++The German Democratic Republic''' 
'''++Cottbus District, Cottbus military base''' 

When she came to, her entire vision was flooded with white.

“...A Wall? No...maybe...the ceiling...?” Kate whispered in vague awareness.

She turned her head slowly, looking around her. An unfamiliar room. Furniture—a battered table. The pungent smell of disinfectant. Katia noticed that she had been put to bed, dressed in simple pajamas.

“But...I was fighting the BETA...”

At a glance, it was obvious that this place wasn’t a base which the United Nations forces had built. The glass window at the bed side rattled with a high-pitched howl, piercing her ears.

“Аh...!“

Holding her breath, she turned her attention out the window. Beyond it stretched a wide snow-covered field. The world was painted in only two colors—black and white.

(The engines of a jump unit? But that doesn’t sound like an F-4 or F-5G...)

“Is this...a DDR (East German Army) Tactical Fighter Base...?”

Just as that thought crossed her mind, Kate remembered the last memories she had. Why was she still alive?

“The MiG-21… so… it saved me …”

That single scene had reminded with her as her consciousness faded away, a sight that would be forever scorched into her…

'''++1110hrs''' 
'''++German Democratic Republic''' 
'''++Cottbus District''' 

On both sides of the highway, stretched endless snow-covered fields with coppices scattered here and there. The only man-made object in the rural landscape was a chain of giant electric transmission towers going beyond the horizon ... No, wait. There was more, five MiG-21s, walking toward the West.

"It's a bleak sight, as always."

Theodore sighed, looking at the back of his companion’s TSFs. They were on the way back from a salvage mission. The aim was to recover from the fields of battle any broken tactical surface fighters, tanks and other equipment for salvage – before they became the prey of the BETA. The squadron was followed by a convey of trucks carrying the collected salvage.

The 666th Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron, "Schwarzesmarken", had taken part in repelling a major BETA offensive – a battle which had lasted three interminable days, but finally, ended. Looking again at the unfolding scene before his eyes, he drearily heaved a sigh. There was about an hour left before returning to base, and the landscape had not changed at all.

TSF pilots rarely have to perform marches on foot, using the legs of the machines. Even more so when in a totally secure area in the rear.

They kept silent most of the time. If a similar march had happen a month ago, Annette and the younger pilots of the squadron would have broadcasted cheerful chatter in the air incessantly, but now all of them had died in the fighting, except for Annette, and she was ordered to undergo medical treatment.

“By the way, Walter, have you heard of this joke before?”

Irisdine’s casual voice came through the wireless, breaking the painful silence.

“Hoh? Which one?” Walter asked with interest.

"At the dawn of the space age, the first satellites that both the Soviet Union and the United States had concurrently launched met in orbit. When communications with ground control were cut off, the two satellites began to talk:

‘''Guten Tag, Freund, jetzt können wir schließlich in unserer Muttersprache sprechen''.’ <Good day, friend, now we can finally speak in our mother tongue>”

Walter and Pham both burst into laughter. It was well known that the space program of both the United States and the USSR, grew out of the scientific and technological heritage of the Third Reich.

However, Theodore did not laugh. He had no wish to join in the merriment.

(What does she have in mind?)

Glaring at the face of Irisdine in the communications window as she tells another anecdote, he tightly squeezed the control handles again.

(That Eishi, what should I do......?)

'''+++January 10''' 
'''++1310hrs''' 
'''++Territory of the former Polish National Republic''' 
'''++Approximately 26 kilometers from the West coast of the Neisse''' 
'''++Krosno Odrzańskie Ruins''' 

Pulling out from the ruins of ''Krosno-Odrzańskie'' which was swarmed with BETA, Theodore decided to move with boost jumps. The remaining amount of propellant was less than 10 percent. He could not afford another engagement with BETA.

Besides—

“Ahh, hot......”

A faint moan—He examined the state of the Bundeswehr (West German Army) girl, who was attached with a pair of straps in front of the seat. With every boost jump, the sudden acceleration twisted her body painfully. Theodore had to shoehorn the girl found in broken F-4 the in the cab of his own Balalaika. Since carrying the F-4 Phantom using a single MiG-21 was impossible, he was forced to abandon it in place. Most likely the fighter had already become the victim of countless numbers of Tank Class approaching from all sides.

(I picked up a troublesome package……)

Members of the NPA (Nationale Volksarmee; National People’s Army; East German Army) were strictly forbidden to have contact with the soldiers of the Bundeswehr. Officially, the ban was to prevent information leakage from the East German army and infiltration of spies in its ranks, but the real reason was to prevent the defection of soldiers to the West. So far, countless soldiers who were suspected to have contacted the West German Army to seek asylum to the west have been executed by the army and the Stasi.

Seen in that sense, for Theodore who has special circumstances, this would be indeed in an unfavorable situation, although it was only a coincidence that he had rescued a Bundeswehr soldier. If he took the wrong step, it was likely that he will again be under the eye of the Stasi. In the Socialist East Germany, just thinking of reconciliation with the capitalist West would get you marked as a person with dangerous ideas.

"Damnit, I was just following orders... ...whatever happens is not my responsibility... ..."

The shock as the machine’s legs pounds the ground causes the control unit to jolt. The belt around her small shoulders and back constrains her, causing the girl to breath with difficulty. The personal belongings of the girl should be inside the medical kit storage space taken from the F-4’s control unit.

(The personal properties of the western guys are being carried in my control unit… …)

Discomforting words scorch my mind.

“Katia C. Waldheim … ...”

Thinking of the face of the the girl which still retains the childishness of youth, Theodore quietly muttered to himself the name written on her ID record.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

User talk:Gabgrave

2013-05-31T12:52:13Z

LoliDragon: /* Muv Luv Alternative: Schwarzesmarken */

Let me know here if there is any thing. I can be reached at gck1984@gmail.com

== Muv Luv Alternative: Schwarzesmarken ==

Dear Gabgrave,

You are certainly welcome to take over the translation, a quick check on the projects shows you should have access already.

If not, please get back to me and i will have a closer look at it.

[[User:Onizuka-gto|Onizuka-GTO]] ([[User talk:Onizuka-gto|talk]]) 08:37, 5 May 2013 (CDT)

Hi, I see you have done some translation on the MLA:S, could that mean you plan to continue translating it at a steady pace?

p.s. thx for picking it up ^^

[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 08:38, 5 May 2013.

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter2

2013-05-31T12:47:48Z

LoliDragon:

<big>Chapter two</big>

<big>'''The Girl from the West'''</big>

'''+++January 13, 1983''' 
'''++1100hrs''' 
'''++The German Democratic Republic''' 
'''++Cottbus District, Cottbus military base''' 

When she came to, her entire vision was flooded with white.

“...A Wall? No...maybe...the ceiling...?” Kate whispered in vague awareness.

She turned her head slowly, looking around her. An unfamiliar room. Furniture—a battered table. The pungent smell of disinfectant. Katia noticed that she had been put to bed, dressed in simple pajamas.

“But...I was fighting the BETA...”

At a glance, it was obvious that this place wasn’t a base which the United Nations forces had built. The glass window at the bed side rattled with a high-pitched howl, piercing her ears.

“Аh...!“

Holding her breath, she turned her attention out the window. Beyond it stretched a wide snow-covered field. The world was painted in only two colors—black and white.

(The engines of a jump unit? But that doesn’t sound like an F-4 or F-5G...)

“Is this...a DDR (East German Army) Tactical Fighter Base...?”

Just as that thought crossed her mind, Kate remembered the last memories she had. Why was she still alive?

“The MiG-21… so… it saved me …”

That single scene had reminded with her as her consciousness faded away, a sight that would be forever scorched into her…

'''++1110hrs''' 
'''++German Democratic Republic''' 
'''++Cottbus District''' 

On both sides of the highway, stretched endless snow-covered fields with coppices scattered here and there. The only man-made object in the rural landscape was a chain of giant electric transmission towers going beyond the horizon ... No, wait. There was more, five MiG-21s, walking toward the West.

"It's a bleak sight, as always."

Theodore sighed, looking at the back of his companion’s TSFs. They were on the way back from a salvage mission. The aim was to recover from the fields of battle any broken tactical surface fighters, tanks and other equipment for salvage – before they became the prey of the BETA. The squadron was followed by a convey of trucks carrying the collected salvage.

The 666th Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron, "Schwarzesmarken", had taken part in repelling a major BETA offensive – a battle which had lasted three interminable days, but finally, ended. Looking again at the unfolding scene before his eyes, he drearily heaved a sigh. There was about an hour left before returning to base, and the landscape had not changed at all.

TSF pilots rarely have to perform marches on foot, using the legs of the machines. Even more so when in a totally secure area in the rear.

They kept silent most of the time. If a similar march had happen a month ago, Annette and the younger pilots of the squadron would have broadcasted cheerful chatter in the air incessantly, but now all of them had died in the fighting, except for Annette, and she was ordered to undergo medical treatment.

“By the way, Walter, have you heard of this joke before?”

Irisdine’s casual voice came through the wireless, breaking the painful silence.

“Hoh? Which one?” Walter asked with interest.

"At the dawn of the space age, the first satellites that both the Soviet Union and the United States had concurrently launched met in orbit. When communications with ground control were cut off, the two satellites began to talk:

‘''Guten Tag, Freund, jetzt können wir schließlich in unserer Muttersprache sprechen''.’ <Good day, friend, now we can finally speak in our mother tongue>”

Walter and Pham both burst into laughter. It was well known that the space program of both the United States and the USSR, grew out of the scientific and technological heritage of the Third Reich.

However, Theodore did not laugh. He had no wish to join in the merriment.

(What does she have in mind?)

Glaring at the face of Irisdine in the communications window as she tells another anecdote, he tightly squeezed the control handles again.

(That Eishi, what should I do......?)

'''+++January 10''' 
'''++1310hrs''' 
'''++Territory of the former Polish National Republic''' 
'''++Approximately 26 kilometers from the West coast of the Neisse''' 
'''++Krosno Odrzańskie Ruins''' 

Pulling out from the ruins of ''Krosno-Odrzańskie'' which was swarmed with BETA, Theodore decided to move with boost jumps. The remaining amount of propellant was less than 10 percent. He could not afford another engagement with BETA.

Besides—

“Ahh, hot......”

A faint moan—He examined the state of the Bundeswehr (West German Army) girl, who was attached with a pair of straps in front of the seat. With every boost jump, the sudden acceleration twisted her body painfully. Theodore had to shoehorn the girl found in broken F-4 the in the cab of his own Balalaika. Since carrying the F-4 Phantom using a single MiG-21 was impossible, he was forced to abandon it in place. Most likely the fighter had already become the victim of countless numbers of Tank Class approaching from all sides.

(I picked up a troublesome package……)

Members of the NPA (Nationale Volksarmee; National People’s Army; East German Army) were strictly forbidden to have contact with the soldiers of the Bundeswehr. Officially, the ban was to prevent information leakage from the East German army and infiltration of spies in its ranks, but the real reason was to prevent the defection of soldiers to the West. So far, countless soldiers who were suspected to have contacted the West German Army to seek asylum to the west have been executed by the army and the Stasi.

Seen in that sense, for Theodore who has special circumstances, this would be indeed in an unfavorable situation, although it was only a coincidence that he had rescued a Bundeswehr soldier. If he took the wrong step, it was likely that he will again be under the eye of the Stasi. In the Socialist East Germany, just thinking of reconciliation with the capitalist West would get you marked as a person with dangerous ideas.

"Damnit, I was just following orders... ...whatever happens is not my responsibility... ..."

The shock as the machine’s legs pounds the ground causes the control unit to jolt. The belt around her small shoulders and back constrains her, causing the girl to breath with difficulty. The personal belongings of the girl should be inside the medical kit storage space taken from the F-4’s control unit.

(The personal properties of the western guys are being carried in my control unit… …)

Discomforting words scorch my mind.

“Katia C. Waldheim … ...”

Thinking of the face of the the girl which still retains the childishness of youth, Theodore quietly muttered to himself the name written on her ID record.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

User talk:Firebird

2013-03-31T09:57:11Z

LoliDragon:

OMG! I had the urge to shout when i saw your post! Thank you for translating this light novel and looking forward to your future translations! Thanks again, you don't know how happy I am :D ---[[User:Code 06|Code06]]

I edited the prologue, please feel free to undo it if you didn't like what I've done. I've corrected all mistakes aswell. If you'd like me to edit chapter 1 aswell, i would happily do so. And do you mind if I add my name on the editors list? ---- [[User:Code 06|Code 06]] ([[User talk:Code 06|talk]]) 16:36, 30 March 2013 (CDT)

Thx for picking up "Mondaiji-tachi ga isekai kara kuru soudesu yo", I appreciate it ^^ [[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 30 March 2013, at 19:35

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration Page

2013-03-21T17:10:27Z

LoliDragon:

*"First Come, First Served": please register your intended chapters here
*The maximum number of chapters you are recommended to work on is no more then half of any given volume
*Maximum number of Translators per volume is two
*Maximum number of volumes you may be active on is one
*This is not some Binding Contract of "I must do the work I put down here". Choices put down here are negotiable between translators (including their own selves who signed up for it).

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:

*Volume 1

*Prologue by [[user:MisterV|MisterV]] (done)
*Chapter 1 by [[user:MisterV|MisterV]] (done)
*Chapter 2 by [[user:MisterV|MisterV]] (in progress)
*Chapter 3
*Chapter 4
*Epilogue

*Volume 2

*Prologue
*Chapter 1
*Chapter 2
*Chapter 3
*Chapter 4
*Epilogue

*Volume 3

*Prologue
*Chapter 1
*Chapter 2
*Chapter 3
*Chapter 4
*Epilogue

<noinclude>
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[[Category:Registration Page]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2013-03-21T17:09:27Z

LoliDragon:

{{Template:STALLED}}

[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration Page]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 August, 2012 : Project Creation
* 29 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 August, 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
;MIA
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]
*[[User:Alexpte|Alexpte]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter2

2013-03-15T16:57:15Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 2: Two Boys==

=== Part 1 ===

After that, having slipped into Mephius’ territory of Birac, Orba continued at stealing. He had no hesitation or dissonance. Running around barefoot on the ground day after day, he headed over to another area just before the surrounding people and guardsmen memorized his face, doing the same thing over and over until he, once more, headed for his next location.

He started hanging out with boys of the same age who had the same circumstances. Together, they usually sold stuff they’d gathered from dump sites or stuff they’d stolen at the side of the road, sometimes snitching purses with a single wield of the knife, or threatening wealthy-looking merchants coming out of bars, plucking them from their money.

While spending his days like that, one time, something happened that caused several people to get seriously injured amongst the same-age group Orba was hanging out with. Apparently, they’d been challenged by boys from another group. The children were having a children’s turf war. And as always, it was accompanied by force.

Everything was taken from them. Everything – although, with a life barely managing to live another day, despite only having such a minimal lifeline, contrarily, if all their members were being suppressed, they could as well be left for dead.

“We’ll either die, or fight and die. But those who want to do more and win, follow me!”

Orba gave those children, who were about to become fainthearted, a pep talk. He didn’t want to have everything snatched away from him twice. Gathering up the remaining members of their small group, Orba retaliated against a group of opponents that was much bigger in number.

However, he didn’t attack them straight ahead. He thoroughly gathered intelligence on the rival group beforehand. So, when the timing was right and they had the least number of opponents in place, they carried out their attacks.

What Orba valued above all was information. He always had to have the latest information, understanding both friend or foe, singling out the enemy’s numbers, strength, movements, and other things like that.

''This is what separates adults and children.''

It was the only thing Orba thought. A child who knows nothing only gets robbed without even knowing who the enemy is. But if you distinguish friend and foe on your own, and if you know your enemies, you can become the adult on the robbing side.

When Orba was fourteen, he’d become the leading figure among the boys his age. At first, the group he was acquainted with numbered only about ten, but, increasing with each passing day, it finally expanded to more than a hundred members.

However, the black blood that boiled inside of Orba never cleared away. Although he certainly was the kind of person to use physical strength, for there were also about a hundred verbal disputes, and mostly settle things quickly with his fists, at the same time, rather than spending the nights with his friends, drinking alcohol, making a racket, getting in high spirits, and chattering, he was also the type to keep to his own, propping up his knees in a dim corner of the room, and be lost in thought.

Therefore, Orba, who liked to spend the night alone, made some spare time for reading. When immersed in the world of books, he was sometimes reminded of his older brother Roan, thought of Alice, or worried about his mother’s whereabouts.

For how long should he be conversing his strength? First of all, could he call upon that strength when fighting his ‘enemies’? And how many nights more would it circle around in his head? There was no end to the insecurities and self-questioning. Nonetheless, Orba still held that time of worry dear to him, because it allowed him to keep pushing forward.

It was about four years after coming to Birac.

That day was supposed to be just another ordinary day. Ordinary being extremely busy, counting the profits in the safe from the illegal gambling house he was running, before preparing his meet with influential gun-smuggling merchants in the alleys of Birac, training with sword and gun for about one hour, and revising his plan to attack a merchant ship with several of his best men, which was to be carried out within the week.

The plan at the end of the week was a large scale one. They intended to make a surprise attack on one of the air carriers – formally called dragonstone ships – that was fully loaded with gold bars and goods slated to be delivered to the district west of the city-state, by ambushing it in the ravine located twelve kilometres southwest of Birac. Several platoon leaders, including Orba, were already assigned with flying practice.

However, because it was such a large-scale operation, no matter how much the boys agreed on the method, there were big holes as well.

Several boys of the former rival group, envying Orba’s success, had slipped into their group as spies, and had leaked several details about their plan to the Birac garrison.

The second floor of the bar they used as a hideout in those days, was attacked by surprise, and Orba found himself surrounded by the city guards. He didn’t have any weapons at hand to fight back and all the escape routes were blocked. The moment he was struck by their ropes, having again become a person deprived of status, Orba bit his lips causing blood to trickle.

''Bastards.''

Still trying to resist as his face and body suffered at the guards’ fists, Orba again felt the swell of dark blood inside of him.

''Shit, shit, shit!''
''It’s not over. I’m still alive. Mephius or Garbera, I won’t be killed easily, not even by these people. I will live. Live by all means.''

He was put in prison for possession of a large amount of illegal weaponry, and obviously for planning to attack a merchant ship, and one crime after another, such as repeated gang robbery and illegal gambling, was further uncovered.

The time to carry out the investigation didn’t take a day. And Orba, who was once more tossed into a cramped cellar, got a hot iron pressed against his back. He was branded. A long, vertical line in the centre of an X mark, was the proof of being a slave.

He got a high fever from the pain, and that evening inside prison, when Orba was alone, writhing in agony, he experienced an even stranger fate.

“…Indeed, they’re alike.”

He had the feeling someone lifted him up by his chin. Far from able to shake it off, he didn’t even have the energy to open his eyes and see the face of this person. Even without paying attention to any of his emotions, it was like his brains were on fire, simmering slowly. 

“From what I heard during the interrogation, his voice is also the same.”

“Even though they’re alike, it has its limits. Actually, he seems to be a different person depending on the angle. If he were a little more alike, he’d have some purpose. Well, what’s going to happen after this?”

“According to the place I selected, this man holds some interesting portent. With luck at your side, he’ll certainly be helpful to the master any time in the future, won’t he?”

“But a sword slave? If this kid’s life may not be there on the morrow, how can he be of help to me? If I had known about the verdict earlier, I would’ve considered dealing with it differently.”

“No. You certainly won’t know tomorrow’s fate if you invested in him, but this man should expect to become a huge talent. To put it in other words, nothing can be made of this man now. But after passing his days as a sword slave – naturally, if he doesn’t get his neck reaped on the first day, or possibly die from some other cruel twist of fate – I think that he’ll survive more than three years, no, two years, possibly.”

“Then, I suppose I’ll wait without expecting anything. At any rate, there’s certainly no way this lad can become a slave with his actual face.”

At that moment, Orba, being held down by the same people that had branded him earlier, suddenly felt an oppressive feeling on his face and, with just the trace of a heat like fire, Orba’s skin started burning. He squirmed around, screaming, wondering if maybe it all was a dream, not even being sure whether he was really still alive or not.

The next morning, his body still tormented by the pain and fatigue, Orba was dragged and taken out of the dungeons, and then tossed onto a cart where stark naked men were crowded together. The medium-sized Houban dragon, was a dragon with a flat body and eight long legs, fitted for pulling. Still within a light-headed state of mind, Orba went away from Birac being pulled by the dragon.

It was probably about two days later when the journey came to an end. They got a meal once a day, but because it was only one cup of water and some dried meat, the men, including Orba, were exhausted, doubled over, not even having the energy to start a conversation.

“This is another strange slave, huh?” a man with a tanned, muscular body said, white hair and a moustache covering his features as he peered onto Orba’s face. “Gladiators that are already renowned often wear such masks or helmets to promote their personal appeal, but is he really a newcomer?”

The man grasped Orba’s face, and tried to pull it off. Reminded of the pain, as if his skin was getting torn, Orba immediately flung back at the arm.

“Bastard!” an armed swordsman said, about to beat Orba up, when, with only the word “Stop”, the man took, grinning with his lips buried in his beard.

“Looks like this is no ordinary mask. According your background, you’ve got an unyielding spirit. But most of the time, it’s merely only that of a stubborn lad, who’ll become nothing more than a tame dog after three days. I was appointed as a breeder, who’ll teach you to ‘sit’ and ‘wait’. I’ll teach you first-hand what’ll happen to you if you oppose me.”

With those words, the man raised a fist the size of a hammer and slammed it into his bare back. A painful grunt escaping his lips, Orba doubled over without a word.

“I am Gowen. I’d like to form a long-standing relationship. You’ll be made to kill each other after ten days at the earliest. Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” 

After that, the sword slave training began, and Orba also noticed that he was wearing a mask that night. Looking at the mirror in astonishment, Orba, resenting the joke, frantically tried to tear it from his face, but it was stuck closely to his skin and he couldn’t take it off, as if it had become part of the skin itself.

After one hour of wrestling, out of breath and sweating all over on his body, he punched his own strange figure reflected in the mirror.

It cracked with a shattering sound and the iron mask became a warped reflection.

''How much more do I have to scorn people? Giving me such a foolish imitation, how much further must I fall?''

''I’m going to live and get out of here, by all means! I’m going to find the ones who made such a mockery of me and make them suffer through the same thing!''

As he pretended not to hear the sound of his own sobs, he crumbled down on the spot.

The next day, Gowen summoned Orba before him in the practice ring and suddenly threw the sword he had in hand at his feet.

Try to strike me any way you want.”

Orba looked at his opponent with a look that doubted his sanity. Unarmed, and also with chains connecting his ankles, he wouldn’t think for a moment of trying to escape, however, it was much better now that Gowen was already unarmed and that ‘only during practice’ the chains at his ankles were removed as well.

Orba picked up the sword, bent his back as if building up his ‘reservoir’, and rushed forward within a single breath.

It was much like a surprise attack. He acted without mercy. He aimed for the throat. He was going for the kill.

However, his arm did not reach for half the amount he’d imagined, and on top of that, he was kicked hard and fell to his knees. Standing up, he made the same move once more. It brought the same result. The moment he struck, Gowen nimbly went to his side and suppressed him by the elbow.

“You seem to have a little experience. However, that experience only gets in the way right now. Forget it,” Gowen said, after he easily dodged Orba, who tried to attack him for a third time.

Orba wasn’t used to being told things so unsympathetically. His head was seething with anger as he turned and struck, but Orba had no luck nor matter how much he tried to challenge Gowen. What irritated Orba the most was that his opponent didn’t seem to take it seriously. So he cursed Gowen, provoked him, recklessly charged at him saying he’d kill him, while in truth, despite keeping a watchful eye, he couldn’t find any openings at his opponent.

“Are you trying to kill me, Orba?”

Orba’s supposedly polished self-taught style did not seem to be so brilliant.

“But, that’s too bad. You no longer have anything. No name, no status, no clothes, nothing to eat, and you just can’t do anything about it. Yes, even your life. Slaves don’t even have the freedom over their own lives or deaths. Even if you want to get it back, you can’t just repurchase it by offering more money than what you were sold for.”

This one-sided training where he was only getting knocked down was equal to a hellish self-punishment, however, as the day came to an end, maybe because of the exceeding pain, something was lying in wait for Orba as he retreated.

It was the mask’s ‘curse’. At midnight, while he was lying down exhausted, it suddenly emitted a heat like flames that burnt as if they were melting Orba’s face, much in the same way as when the mask was placed on him the first time.

It was mostly in the evenings, through irregular intervals. Sometimes nothing would happen for three days straight, while at other times the heat was being emitted regularly for three days and three nights.

At those times, there was nothing Orba could do. He could only roll over the ground, drawing blood as his ankles scraped against the chains, and continue to hope that the pain would go away early, even if just for a second.

''I’m going mad.''
''I’m going mad, I’m going mad, I’m going mad.''

As he rolled over the floor, Orba harboured that fear time and time again, and even thought to become so might only be better. However, the power to hold onto it until the end, just before his consciousness was about to be taken away by a white, splashing wave, worked out at last. Gritting his teeth, bending his back as if the bones should break, Orba endured it just to endure. Many of his fingernails broke, as he tore at the ground, and tore at his mask.

The other slaves, and the soldiers held responsible for monitoring the slaves of the Tarkas Gladiatorial Group, naturally felt revolted by his figure frothing in pain. Rumours soon spread whether it wasn’t a curse by true magic, or whether Orba gave a nasty face when Tarkas bought him from the slave traders?

“Merchandise is merchandise. Like I care if it’s magic or a curse!? Just don’t ever let him die when he’s not earning his pay!”

Giving those orders, Tarkas was certainly a most undaunted man. Orba was generally ignored as long as he didn’t die a dog’s death.

''I won’t die.''

It was a long, long night. His flesh and bones scraped by pain and the temptation of madness, wishing to die every second, it felt like the night would never break, but eventually it came to an end. Unless Orba himself gave up his life into the darkness, dawn would always come. Exhausted, lying down with his body already having no drop of strength left, he could feel the morning light upon his mask. Unsteadily raising his hands and taking hold of the mask, he pushed strength into his fingers and made an oath.

''Unless someone stabs me in the heart, I will never let myself die.''

It was as Gowen said. ''My life is not mine. But it doesn’t automatically belong to Tarkas either.''

''My life, with all that was taken from me, is all that I have.''

His heart had been beating in order to live until he’d meet his mother, Alice, and possibly his brother Roan again, his muscles only brandishing a sword to reach those who raided them, with the purpose to build a mountain of corpses.

After that, Orba was totally absorbed into his training. The sword and Orba’s body soon became integrated as one. He was holding formless hatred, without knowing how to clear himself of it, and different from the time when he was just full of unease. The sword gave form to his hatred. His sword became hatred, pointing out what to cut and tear through. Altogether put in another way, it became his desire to live.

“If you want to survive, learn the technique to kill an opponent, and at the same time, also to kill yourself. People who can’t solely kill themselves, are killed by others in the end. There’s no exception.”

Gowen said so clearly. And Orba followed those instructions.

He killed his emotions. He burned them vigorously, roaring like a flame, day and night, so that he could also thoroughly burn himself. However, at the same time, the fire couldn’t be extinguished either.

Therefore, at midnight, although lying down quietly with possibly his face scorching under the mask, Orba continued burning his secret firewood – the anger and hatred in his chest – smouldering them into glowing embers.

Before long, he received his debut match. When Orba set foot in the arena, he was welcomed by a large crowd surrounding the place.

While the sky and earth were wrapped in loud voices, Orba fought a man that had picked up a sword like him, and killed him. He didn’t even remember whether his opponent was young, or if he was older than him. Only the moment he killed, and the moment even more cheers poured onto his sweating back, was what he remembered in great detail.

“Die!” Orba yelled as he looked up at the spectators. “Fuckin’ die !!”


Although the voice itself was drowned out by the cheers, Orba raised his bloody sword and continued spitting his profane language at all of them.

And, within one week’s time, he was to perform his second match. It was against a bearded man holding a zigzagged short-sword. It was something of a disgrace. There might have been jeers, or they might have progressed to the name of gods. Twice, thrice, he took a blow from a violent slashing attack. Each time, Orba changed his grip on the sword. He changed the placement of his feet. He was studying how to fight in the midst of battle.

He fended off a sword that was about to attack him from his side. And his opponent’s body was ''opened'' before his eyes.

Orba had swung his sword down right in front of him. The sword had cut into the middle of the face. Blood, bones, and brains were spilling from all sides. His hand growing numb, he hardly had any sense of touch. It was the third time he’d killed someone.

Orba became a gladiator and time went by for a little less than two years. In that time, there were countless battles. There were also many endless nights spent counting all of the stars that filled up the night sky.

However, after a year passed, the curse of the iron mask heating up gradually disappeared, and after another half year passed, the periodic maddening pains became unbelievably docile. Although, it was no ordinary mask, as he still wasn’t able to tear it off, not getting a dent whether he struck it with the pommel of his sword or with a hammer. On the contrary it only seemed to endanger his own life and he was simply forced to postpone his wish to take off the mask.

And — when five days passed after Orba stopped the reckless voracity of the large-sized Sozos dragon at the Ba Roux arena,

“I found out why Tarkas was so merry,” Gowen suddenly said at the breakfast table. “You know Mephius and Garbera have been making peace negotiations, right? It looks like they’re finally planning to put an end to the ten-year war.”

“Hmm,” Shique nodded. “So the crown prince of Mephius and the princess of Garbera are going to have a political marriage, huh?”

“Mephius has various etiquette concerning marriages of the imperial household. The marital vows have to be performed at Seirin Valley<ref>Valley of Holy Descent (聖臨の谷).</ref>, for example, and there are also gladiatorial fights in the repertoire to be hosted. It looks like we from Tarkas Gladiatorial Group are the only ones recruited.”

Kain whistled. For a little while now, he was making the repairs of a clock with dexterous hands at the table, as requested of him by Tarkas.

“Well, that means they’re going to make us kill each other in front of the imperial family.”

“We can pay our respects to the crown prince himself. Exciting, isn’t it, Orba?” Shique said, while Orba was as usual bent forward with his eyes on his book.

“It won’t change a thing. Not one. Just putting flowers on armour and sword,” he replied bluntly.

=== Part 2 ===

It was early after dawn when Gil Mephius returned. Leaving his horse at the stables and heading for the back gate, Gil soon recognized the figure of Simon Rodloom and got a sombre look on his face. And then, as expected, he ended up having to listen to his complaints.

“Young prince, I am not impressed. You’ve been tomfooling around like this every day and night.”

“Your hobby of ambushing people is awful too.”

He shrugged his shoulders and turned to look behind him, at the friends he’d been hanging around with. They were all children of nobility – seventeen, eighteen of them – around Gil’s age and just a collection of second or third sons with no claim to the family succession.

“I do not want to mimic a father impatiently waiting for his daughter’s return either. However, your highness is also in the offing for the wedding with the Garberran princess. Things like this will not do. Please show some understanding.”

“I know. Don’t glare like that. Exactly because the wedding is at hand, I want to enjoy the freedom of being single before it’s too late.”

“It’s just that I can’t cover up for you every single time.”

“That’s why I told you – I know!”

Gil was about to lose his temper as usual, but,

“If you truly know already, please prepare to dress yourself in due haste. His majesty is waiting at the palace gates.”

“Father is?”

Blood draining his face, the angry expression was replaced by the tint of dismay. Also, Simon did not fail to notice that the prince’s friends were laughing in secret.

“Well, see ya.”

“Prince, at the dawn of the wedding, let’s make some racket all night again.”

As expected, even though their outward behaviour was very friendly, they seemed distant. While all of them had renowned noble fathers, they hung around the prince nearly every day and night. In the canyon-rich country of Mephius they had street races with rare horses, invited young women from distinguished houses to entertain at the river, gambled, imitated hunts, and drank alcohol, and had meaningless wild parties.

''But that’s only their responsibility'', Simon thought.

The nation and its soldiers were tired of the long-standing war. However, although there had finally come an end to the battles with Garbera with the political marriage folding the curtain, it wasn’t what everyone had been hoping for. To make matters worse, during the peace negotiations, the southern territory of Apta that had played a central part, had been divided with Mephius getting the short end of the bargain.

Sandwiched between the two countries of Mephius and Garbera, was the Duchy of Ende. It didn’t have a very large territory, but the country had a long history whose lineage could be traced back to the beginning of the magic dynasty, and also had tight connections with the gulf countries across the sea. Furthermore, because the powerful eastern nation, Arion, had a longstanding relationship due to their similar lineage, they weren’t an opponent to make light of if they decided to compete for supremacy of the continent’s centre.

Ende hadn’t intervened in the ten-year war, but, although it continued to keep a small trading relationship with both countries, albeit separately, it had shown signs of forming a military alliance with Garbera.

As soon as the Emperor of Mephius received the information, he easily took back the vow he pledged three years ago before the divinity at the Dragon Gods temple, ‘Until the neck of the Garberran is presented before me, I will never sheathe my sword,’ and suggested to make peace with Garbera.

Of course, Garbera wasn’t so sure of his change of heart. But they also had some conflicts amongst themselves. If they were amply allied with Ende, it might be enough to attack Mephius anyway. However, the war had brought much damage and ruin to Garbera. Moreover, if they would increase military activities together with Ende, they also raised the concern that Ende might do with their territory however they pleased.

For Garbera, who had the same dilemma with Mephius standing at their side, the territory of Apta was brought in. In the end, as a result of weighing the different options, Garbera complied with Mephius’s request for an alliance.

''His imperial majesty, too, must have considered it a bitter decision.''

In and out of the country, Guhl Mephius was whispered of as the ‘Dragonheart Emperor’. Partly as a literal symbol of fear, but also partly as a nothing more than irony.

Around the time they entered their sixth year of war with Garbera – it was at the time when the aforementioned divination was done – Guhl had arbitrarily strengthened the imperial household’s influence in order to prevent confusion in the chain of command. The council, which consisted of the major aristocrats, lost half of their authority, and now it existed almost in name only.

Simon Rodloom, too, was a said member. The Rodloom House currently had no successor though, because twelve years ago, in exchange for becoming the council president, the western fortress city that made up the heart of their territory was handed over to another noble. Hence, as he had currently no territory to govern and no soldiers to command, he was a noble from a distinguished family in name only.

His situation virtually resembled that of other nobles. Aside from those who had kept their influence by being servile to the emperor for many generations, for those who were willing to hope for just a little progress in the country, the current Mephius was only a stifling place.

Simon thought he was much like the ones who’d hung around the prince earlier, having enough room for sympathy among the noble’s second sons, as they neither had a promised position in the future. If the war came to an end, and those who’d made a name of themselves on the battlefield were given titles, it would also become impossible to collect part of their extended territory.

Of course it was the world of belligerent countries. Although war itself might not necessarily disappear after this, with Mephius currently wrapped in a feeling of war-weariness, an opportunity would probably only arrive after five, ten, or even twenty years.

The irony of the nickname ‘Dragonheart Emperor’ lay in the fact that, even though he was thought of as a authoritative dictator in his homeland, recently, he hadn’t been able to demonstrate his influence on foreign territories.

''Although it probably fits as a symbol for the current state of Mephius,''

Simon thought, not hesitating on having such opinions and showing a slight self-mockery while waiting for the crown prince to finish his preparations. Simon, who had retired from his position of council president, was now more like the prince’s nursemaid.

As Gil hurriedly jumped out of his room with a change of clothing and hairstyle, he ordered Gil to walk beside him.

“You’re so bossy all the time, Simon. Like a nagging courtesan.”

“There’s no need to get angry. Or you’ll hear that tone every day when you get married.”

“Why shouldn’t I get angry? I won’t be doing as told by a wife three years younger than me.”

“Although Princess Vileena of Garbera is young, she’s someone who has gone through a lot. She’s also resolved to brace herself for a confrontation with the prince.”

“What’s that, talking as if it’s some battle?”

“Married life ''is'' a battle. As the vague line between winner and loser gets even thinner. It’s also important to know information on the opponent beforehand. So, are you willing to listen to me talk now?”

Although Gil only meant to make a joke, it had stirred up a hornet’s nest, and Simon, not at all caring about Gil’s scowl either, started talking about tales of Princess Vileena.

It was about five years ago, when Garbera was in the midst of a rebellion. It was the work of local lords secretly in touch with Mephius. They first attacked the villa where the king’s predecessor lived, and then took it over. Princess Vileena, who had come over to play, also happened to be there and they kept her hostage along with her grandfather, the previous king. However, the princess, who was only nine years old at the time, did not shy from their rebel opponents at all, and seemed to have stood against them admirably, seeking the release of all hostages other than her.

Also, compared to other foreign countries, Garbera still vigorously mined dragonbone fossils, purifying the raw materials into the weightless metal known as dragonstone, which had become a big source of income. And, Princess Vileena was known to be an expert at flying the suddenly famous Garberran-style single-seated airships made of the very same metal.

“Certainly, she decorated the airship race that’s performed in Garbera once every few years, by becoming a splendid runner-up.”

“Do women ride airships?” Gil said, with a weary look. “Geez, she’s passed fourteen, but she still seems like a child. In Mephius, you don’t even think of women flying in the sky with such vehicles. I can’t even try to imagine my wife at the palace garden, capering in the sky with an airship. People would point their finger and make a laughingstock out of me. Why would the first prince born in historic Mephius give his bride a freedom like that? I’d rather look for a natural beauty anywhere in the city! Simon, isn’t it possible to cancel the marriage in some way, even now?”

He gave a nonchalant sigh, but it was Simon who wanted to sigh even louder. Should the royal prince come to graciously inherit the imperial dynasty, he’d half-heartedly give priority to his personal preferences over the nation and its people.

''The prince isn’t even a bad person. But what he said will only cause severe intrigue and mayhem'', Simon thought inside. ''And his father is a hero. Although he’s lost part of the southern territories, he also had the ability to make peace with Garbera within almost five minutes, outwitting Ende.''

''On the other hand, he isn’t a good father.''

“Father, have you called for me?”

The two had made their way over to the emperor’s private room. It was still early in the hours and the hall of the imperial court was not yet open. However, the impatient Emperor Guhl, sitting at breakfast, had already decided to let many men seek audience one after another and listen to their words.

Then, before the many nobles – the people who would later become Gil’s retainers – the father openly railed at his son.

“How much time has passed since I summoned you!? You still don’t have any territory, not a single soldier depending on you. You don’t even have a single job assigned to you, and yet you make off like that where my eyes can’t reach? But you were probably just occupied with your worthless nightlife, anyway.”

“No, father, I…”

“So, the only son that I’ve born is a useless sloth like you. It’s the most pathetic truth that our dynasty’s long history will meet disaster.”

Simon gazed at the prince’s shivering back. Over his shoulder, he also had a view of the raving emperor’s figure. Deep wrinkles formed on his face as the extent of his temper grew wilder.

“It seems like Princess Vileena is quite a courageous princess. I heard she can handle a gun and airships better than any ordinary man. You’re not evenly matched. Probably the only manly achievement you’ve got is that you’re about to marry her. Have you got the honour of killing a dragon, capture any survivors of the Ryuujin Tribe, or maybe even discovered an ancient spaceship buried in the ruins? Oh, those are feats worthy of a main character in a saga!”

The emperor pleasantly struck the table, buying the laughter of the retainers lined up around him. When several people followed suit, he added with satisfaction,

“You should be careful, or before you know it, you’ll be the one wearing a dress and carried up into the bed.”

''What a despicable sight.''

Of course, Simon did not mutter those words out loud.

Among those at table was Ineli, the eldest child of the emperor’s second wife, Melissa. In front of the girl with fair skin and highly donned hair, Simon had seen the sight of Gil become a much easier swayed man. Although he had apparently been invited by Princess Ineli to watch the gladiators just yesterday, she also turned down her face and suppressed her laughter.

In the end, Gil hardly uttered a single word either.

“I think I also find it a bit despicable.”

As soon as the emperor made his leave, Fedom Orlin spoke to Simon.

Although he was much younger than Simon, with his body covered in fat, he was also much bigger. He was the noble in charge of Birac Fortress and its surrounding area. He was also one of the sole leading members who proceeded the peace negotiations, and was much more promising than other lords with their deathly gazes. Simon kept an eye on him.

Although, in truth, that it hardly meant he was a great man.

“You can’t assume the prince can carry this country on such unreliable shoulders. Sure enough, compared to those who were fated to be born on the streets, you could call him lucky.”

Solemnly shaking his head, he lowered his voice to a whisper,

“The resistance against the imperial household is growing stronger. Emperor Guhl still gathers much respect and fear because of his successes, but when it comes to Prince Gil… The way things stand, those who consider him no good may not necessarily have to come out either. No, no, however, bearing the country’s future in mind, can we really just condemn them as traitors?”

It was obvious that with ‘them’ he meant himself. He was quite blatantly riling Simon up, trying to gauge whether or not he could become a potential ally, for there might possibly cause an even greater amount of dead than that of the war casualties if Mephius lost the ten-year war against Garbera.

“The prince is young,” Simon said, not showing the slightest change in expression. “Anything can still happen after this. Even when the His Majesty was young, there wasn’t any indication of him becoming the Dragonheart. We have to support the young prince and build the future of our nation together.”

“Haha! That’s so like you, Lord Simon. You’re eyes are turned towards the future.”

Fedom stroked his strongly slackened jaw. Simon unintentionally spilled a smile.

''Well, I wonder if this man was able to understand my current honour student-like words.''

Simon was certainly worried about the current state of Mephius, as it was currently impossible for the prince to do good.

However, despite such fears, everything might start to topple into an unexpected direction very soon. And Simon would not separate himself from the person concerned. Having experienced the destined changes of Prince Gil Mephius up close, it was still much better than Fedom Orlin’s methods.

=== Part 3 ===

What was called the Mephius Empire, boasting their power as an ‘imperial dynasty’, dated back to seven generations before the current emperor, Guhl Mephius.

The Domick Flats that cut diagonally through the mountains was currently all of its territory, with the famous black tower, known as the ‘Forged Sword that cut through the Space Immigrant Ship’s bow’, at its centre and the imperial capital Solon surrounding that tower in a circle; where, among the intricate valleys forming a natural stronghold, they’d built small forts that couldn’t even be called castles, which in turn protected several major cities and the large and small villages dotting the area. The forts, including the city and villages surrounding it, each had a district official, while the nobles in turn usurped and commanded several of its regions.

It was evening.

Gil Mephius was making his favourite horse run at reckless speed.

To the west, the Domick Flats were glittering and shining bright red, while, to the east, the mountains and rows of cliffs towered over like a pitch-black wall, enveloping it in darkness. If he’d look up at the slope rising to his west, he would see the rocky mountains where the Mephius Family built their castle three generations ago. It took the strength of dragons and humans, and it’s said they even borrowed the power several magicians who were rare in Mephius, to carefully carve the limestone mansion. Although it was first used as a council hall after the new castle was built, now, it was only so in name.

But Gil didn’t spare those historical buildings a glance, as he cantered down towards the town streets, passing the statues of Mephius’s founding king and many heroes lined up in the natural corridor.

''Shit!''

No matter how much he tried to empty his head, his father’s face, the ridiculing voices, and the figure of Ineli’s downcast shoulders and shivering form kept coming back.

“About tomorrow’s plans?”

Although he asked Ineli out again at noon, she rolled her alluring eyes in a charming gesture.

“Haven’t you just been scolded by father this morning? Although your boldness has indeed the quality of an emperor’s, shouldn’t you be a bit more prudent?”

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 097.jpg|thumb]]
Holding the hem of her skirt, she bowed before him. Her eyes, however, glancing his way with an upturned look, held signs of testing him out. And, as Gil was at a loss for words just like when he’d faced his father, she turned her back and left after saying, “Have a good day.”

While Gil ran his horse, he gritted his teeth.

''She was definitely provoking me.''

That sweet look in her upturned glance. Ineli was implicitly making a mockery of Gil.

''— So, you’re still afraid of your father, huh?

''— A child that can do nothing but follow his father’s orders can’t keep me company.

''— Now, why don’t you hurry on back to your room and play by yourself?

Today he didn’t even get a little drunk. When the day fell, the black water lily powder he’d always mix with his alcohol, although it should have instantly made him forget about all annoying things as usual, just today, it seemed to have a bad effect on him. So he nearly doubled the amount he normally knocked back. Then suddenly, after getting severely drunk, Gil wanted to take a fast ride on his horse. He didn’t call for his friends. He was all by himself for today.

Gil had never received a single kind word from his father. He’d almost never seen him show a smile.

When he hadn’t yet become ten, Gil had tagged along on a wild dragon hunt. At the time, as a sort of ‘test of courage’, he’d placed his foot on the dragon’s neck, which had just been shot dead with a gun. Upon seeing his own son drawn as a painting, raising his chin with his arms crossed like a hero, Guhl said,

“Look, it’s a dragon-slaying hero! My son will rise up to the heavens devouring dragons.”

And he laughed, baring his white teeth.

Gil could not bring himself to stay irritated when he so cherished the memories of his childhood. On the other hand, he couldn’t help it that it was the only pleasant memory he had of his father.

''Father must really hate me,'' he thought.

It was obvious that he didn’t have the makings of a hero. How many times had his father sighed during his sword training? Publicly too, like earlier today. All the retainers supported his father. The only one that stuck up for him, his mother, had died five years ago.

And, before last year, his father took the widowed Melissa from a notable family as his second wife. He got two sisters she brought from her previous marriage. Because she had not yet fully finished mourning her late husband, there were many malicious whispers about her in the palace, and, also for other reasons, Gil did not like Melissa. She was, of course, not his mother. Like the older retainers standing at father’s side, in his father’s eyes, she was no person to look down upon.*

And at the time, her oldest daughter Ineli too… When he imagined looking down at her figure at the time, with looks that got more strangely sensual, Gil noticeably kicked the flanks of his horse in a fit of anger.

“Oh?”

Among the people who narrowly avoided being run down by his horse, was Fedom. He was just coming back from his mistress’s house. To his companions he asked,

“Wasn’t that the crown prince just now?”

“Really?”

“At a time like this, without his friends?”

“It may very well be possible that it is our highness,” he said with a hardly amused hint of cynicism. “Alright. It doesn’t necessarily have to be so strange. Someone chase after him. If there’s any trouble, use my name and politely bring him back,” he ordered.

There was more than a common crowd of people in the middle of the streets. Slowing his horse’s pace with great frustration, Gil expressionlessly cut through the gaps between the boisterously laughing people. Of course, he didn’t have the appearance of being from royalty. Because the town people only knew their prince’s face from portraits sold as a courtesy at festivals, he should come out without them even recognizing him.

Sure enough, even though no one called out to him, Gil was not able to ignore them as he let his horse walk through. For some reason, the sight of people getting merry and enjoying themselves got on his nerves. And, despite the light tones of the kithara<ref>An old Greek instrument, a bit like a lyre.</ref> and flute, it seemed that they were making a little fool out of him. Was the laughter rising everywhere simply them pointing fingers at him?

His heartbeat throbbed faster. The drug was finally having its effect and started dispersing Gil’s thoughts. As it were, the scenery before him, that he thought was softly disintegrating into a misshapen variety of viscous colours drawing him in, started to look like a row of little devils sneering at him.

''Stop…''

Every last one of them was laughing, pointing at him with twisted claws.

Take a look – that’s Mephius’s crown prince. That man is like a child, forever frightened by his father. He can’t freely woo a single girl, that deplorable man.

He should just die already. A man whose rule is of no use to anyone in this country should just die right now.

''Stop!''

The series of disgusting colours squirmed and twisted all around him. The fear, which had likely been oppressed, further urged Gil’s disgust and terror. He truly regretted that he hadn’t brought a gun from the palace. Surely, if he filled all of these people with lead bullets, it would clear his head…

“Your Higness, Gil?”

Suddenly, there was someone holding his horse’s bit. That moment, it first looked like one of the figures embodying the devil, but when Gil, shuddering on horseback, stared very hard, he noticed it was a man whose face he’d seen several times before.

Considering he was carrying a sword at his side, and also wearing a handgun at his waist, he had to be someone of the imperial guard, who were allowed to wear arms at times of peace. But because he knew him only his in military uniform, he looked like an entirely different person wearing ceremonial clothes.

“Do you have some business in a place like this?”

“No…”

The prince shook his head, pretending to be in a normal state of mind. The imperial guard was directly under the control of the emperor. That meant they stood at his father’s side, and they were not the kind of companions Gil wanted to be familiar with either way.

Although one could only become an officer class if he came from a good family, the ruler was permitted to freely appoint anyone regarding the soldiers forming his own division. Gil too, when he reached his fifteenth birthday two years ago, had received the authority to select soldiers directly under his own control, but that was merely a formality – in practice, he would one day directly inherit his father’s army division.

“It’s dangerous to be here on your own. Let me send a messenger to the court.”

“Leave it, don’t do something unnecessary. That aside, what’s all this commotion?”

“Ahh.”

The member of the imperial guard, around his mid-forties, narrowed his eyes with embarrassment. He pointed at the centre of the street. On top of a horse-drawn carriage that had its canopy removed, stood a young man and women fully dressed up.

“Tonight’s my daughter’s wedding ceremony,” he laughed.

The girl was happily smiling with a face that resembled her father’s. Her pure white dress, although it couldn’t help being plain in comparison to those he’d seen at the imperial court, was strangely dazzling.

The daring, once-in-a-lifetime dress design revealed her cleavage, making her sensual body line stand out.

“The prince should also take care of his body, being in the offing for marriage. I can call for a subordinate, and hurry on to the castle—”

Half of the imperial officer’s words didn’t even each Gil’s ears.

The laughter, the sounds, and the people dancing in a circle, flickered darkly before him, just like a play of shadow puppets. The worthless smiles in the streets, the singing voices, and the dances increased the uneasiness within Gil.

Why were they all behaving in such a cheerful manner? Even he, the heir to the Mephius Imperial Throne, didn’t see such things at underfoot among his days. No, maybe it was that, just because they were commoners, they could spend their days without fear? They hadn’t chosen their lives. They received what they were given, and grieved for what was robbed of them. If he could also spend his days like that, how much comfort would it give?

It became all the more irritating. An all the more violent throbbing keenly put pressure on his brains. The thump, thump, thump, thumping made Gil’s body tremble. The shadow puppets were shaking along vertically.

At that time, Gil’s lips opened up in a semicircle. He was laughing.

What a foolish notion. That he, as the prince, should envy the happiness of such lowly humans. This would all become his territory one day. He just needed to remind them of that. He needed to teach them that, if such happiness was so easily given, it could also be snatched away in an instant.

“Right to the first night.”

“Eh?”

The officer of the imperial guard holding his horse’s bit once more raised his head. Although Gil was wiping drool from his mouth, the tone of his words was clear.

“I exercise the imperial family’s right to the first night.”

“Prince!”

The officer’s shout made all of the surroundings faces face their way.

''Are you finally looking?''

As he got into the height of drunkenness, Gil laughed even more. If he’d had a mirror at hand right now, Gil would see that his own face resembled those demonic figures he was daydreaming about earlier.

''Do you finally notice I’m not part of you, not just one more life, not just one more human being?''

The males of Mephius’ imperial family had the so-called right to the first night. It meant that, if there was a marriage between man and woman anywhere in the domain, almost without exception, he could take from the groom the right to spend the first night with the bride.

There was a time when it was believed the blood of a virgin was something filthy, and that going to bed with power-wielding royal family members or priests would cleanse that blood – although, with that said, it was essentially only a means to pluck high taxes, paid in order to avoid the right to the first night. The law was established about a little less than 200 years ago, in the midst of the successive battles with the Ryuujin Tribe that impoverished human civilization.

Nowadays, the right to the first night had become a dead letter. Just like the selecting system of the imperial guard.

“Prepare some place, imperial officer. Are you listening to what I’m saying? If you go against the imperial family, not only you, but the bride too, will go to the guillotine.”

Surprise and confusion spread throughout the circle, creating a wave around Gil. The laughter subsided, the singing stopped, and the dancing broke up. The looks on the young pair atop the horse carriage got frozen still.

On the contrary, Gil didn’t stop laughing. As far as he knew, the right to the first night had never been claimed before. Of course, neither had his father, Guhl Mephius.

Didn’t his father say he wouldn’t become such a man? Someone who would leave his name in history? Didn’t even Ineli try to taunt him? He’d show he’d surpass his father. From now on, they couldn’t say whatever.

In a world that had fallen silent around him, Gil was the only one who felt truly satisfied from the bottom of his heart.

Half an hour later, Gil kept the bride waiting on the second floor of a cheap tavern close by. The security of the barroom was entrusted to none other than the imperial officer from earlier. While grinning broadly on his own, he went up the stairs with a bottle of alcohol. The sound of creaking wood was strangely comfortable.

He threw open the door, and the figure on the bed moved with a shudder. It was dark. The only light came from a soot-covered lamp all the way over to the pillow.

“Prince,” the woman, rubbing her hands together, tried to plead with him. “Please… please, let this slide. If it’s about the tax – I’ll pay! Please forgive me! I still… still haven’t entrusted my body to a man yet. Even my husband…”

“That’s why it’s called the right of the first night, isn’t it?” Gil said, sneering. “I’ll take care of all the tainted blood. After that, you can get intimate with your husband in peace, as much as you want.”

Throwing off his upper clothes, Gil sidled up to her on the bed. The bride let out a scream and backed away on the bed. He could see the flesh of her behind bulging through the thin clothing. Gil’s throat was rumbling.

At that time, there was a violent thumping on the door. Clicking his tongue and turning his head, Gil watched the imperial officer come into the room, and raised a stern look.

“It’s insensitive for the father to break in upon the bride’s wedding night. Although I heard there’s a custom where witnesses are invited to a royal wedding’s first night, that’s not the case for you. Fall back.”

“Well, prince, will you please reconsider? This is a disgrace to Mephius’s imperial household!”

“What are you saying? Someone like you hasn’t the position to scorn the imperial family. Openly disrespecting it like you just did is worthy of the death penalty!”

The imperial officer, Rone Jayce, watched the prince’s eyes up front. They were unfocused, and froth was leaking from his mouth. With a single glance, he saw they were the effects of the black water lily. As the prince fixed his sharp gaze, he continued blurting out incoherent words.

“I… I am of the Mephius Imperial family… no… I’m that Guhl Mephius’s child. If you say the very country opposes me, fine, I’ll have you and your family packed into an inescapable coliseum! Suffer at a dragon’s fangs, until you settle all alone in its stomach for all I care! Leave, if you don’t like that. What!? That’s still not enough? We can just resume the marriage after this. I’ll even make sure to also put on one of those celebratory outfits.”

Gil turned his white back his way.

''Ah…''

In that defenceless state, Rone was dizzied, struck by a severe indecisiveness.

Laila was his only daughter. Doing hard work as an officer of the imperial guard, he was never quite confident if he was a good father or not.

It was more than ten years ago, at the time of Rone’s birthday. He returned home, arriving near midnight. Although, in the end, he had even forgotten that the day was his birthday, Laila had been lying asleep with her face on the table. While his wife had placed a blanket on her shoulders, she said,

“She tried her best to stay awake, you know.”

His daughter was holding a white wreath of flowers, one she probably made herself, tightly in her hand.

As he’d softly placed her small hand in his own, he vowed he would do anything in exchange for his daughter’s happiness. Even if it took his own life.

When he came to, Rone was aobut to jump on Gil. He nearly tumbled to the floor, as he fell forward with the prince. The screams of his brain, saying ‘What are you doing!?’, was swirling along with the sound of everything falling apart.

But, Rone was not really thinking of that at all. The prince was obviously using a drug that made him act this way. If he lost consciousness here, by the time he awoke, he would possibly not remember a single thing. Even if not, he wouldn’t think much more of it than that had happened in a dream. Although it would be necessary to get a large crowd of people to cooperate with him, Rone would use any means necessary to ensure they did.

On the other side, Gil was currently in a state of frenzy. Having the belief he had to surpass his father or have his name be thoroughly defiled, he was about to raise his body, feeling signs of a wild beast. It was as if he wielded the power against his own father.

“Filth!”

As he struggled with this ‘father’, he noticed the handgun hanging at his opponent’s waist. He frantically tried to seize it. Rone noticed it too. At the end of the silent struggle, the handgun fell from both their hands. It fell with a solid sound on the floor. They both quickly extended their hands towards it.

Bang! – when a gunshot echoed throughout.

Following the news he received from his attendant, Fedom rushed to the front of the tavern with a restrained sword.

''The right to the first night, of all things!''

Looking at his side, there were several figures gathered up, assimilating with the darkness in a place where they did not stand out in the streets. All their eyes were glaring at him and Fedom got chills running down his spine. It reminded him of oozing wet fuse. You’d leave it alone, since it wouldn’t make an explosion anyway, but if even one strong spark was incidentally thrown into the lot, it could blow up quickly.

Clearing his throat, Fedom drew closer to the front of the bar room. Several people of the imperial guard were standing watch at the door. They had bewildered looks on their faces. Summoned by their superior officer, they hadn’t received an explanation on why they had to guard this bar either. Fedom raised his title as a council member and was led through.

Then – bang! – a gunshot rang that made his eardrums quiver.

Standing still for a moment, Fedom then quickly ran up the stairs. His attendant, being a great fighter, leading ahead, opened the door. They equally caught their breath. The smell of gunpowder reached their nose. There was a puddle of blood spreading on the cheap building floor.

''……''

Under those circumstances, a strange silence blew over them.

For a little while, Fedom wasn’t able to think of anything. He had no words, his mind seemingly refusing to accept what he saw for fact, and he only stared at it vacantly. However, bit by bit, reality started corroding his brain cells and a certain thought arose within Fedom Orlin’s mind. Even ''he'' thought it was a ridiculous idea. It was too much.

''No…''

Fedom swallowed a huge amount of saliva. Wasn’t this some heavenly revelation? Now, to break to the old empire’s shell and give it fresh blood? He could give real meaning to this country, suitable for its current turbulent times. Wasn’t this nothing more than a sign from the heavens, that no other than he could do this?

Despite the stench of blood in the cheap tavern, right now, Fedom’s eyes seemed as if they were wrapped by a golden light. While personally shuddering, experiencing excitement and fear, he realized that, if he wanted this, he had to hurry, and impatiently urged on.

At first, after commanding his subordinate to let no one enter this room, he approached the father and daughter who were embracing each other, shivering, on the bed.

“…I am prepared,” the imperial officer said. “But my daughter, and my family, is not to blame. I take all responsibility for this on myself. Please, have mercy on everyone else but me. I’ll do whatever you desire of me, immediately; be it the coliseum, you can make me face a dragon barehanded, offer my neck to the guillotine, or tie my fours limbs to dragons and tear me apart.”

“Oh?”

Fedom’s cheeks were trembling. He was looking down for a quick glance at the man lying down with the bared back. He didn’t move a single inch. It looked like he was already no longer breathing.

“Do not fear,” Fedom said, albeit in a shaky voice. “He’s still breathing.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you hear me? He’s still breathing. Do not fear. The crown prince will be in good health.”

Rone Jayce remained quiet, still surprised. Fedom quickly resumed speaking.

“All right, if you still want to protect your family, I’ll ask you to not leak out a single word that I say, got it? If just one little thing about what happened here reaches my ears through someone else, you, your family, and all your blood relatives will be the first to enter a dragon’s stomach. Got it? In short, I’m telling you that ''isn’t'' the case right now. Understand?”

The imperial officer, Rone Jayce, suddenly glanced up. A spurt of blood on the chest, his daughter was clinging on to him. Over their heads, loomed Fedom’s face. Those eyes with undetermined focus were much like the ones Prince Gil had just a little while ago.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter2

2013-02-26T17:16:08Z

LoliDragon:

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter2

2013-02-26T17:09:02Z

LoliDragon:

User talk:Dohma

2013-02-26T17:08:48Z

LoliDragon:

== Rakuin no Monshou ==

Thanks for creating the page and selecting this series for your learning. I have done some minor reformatting to the project page. The rest is very good.--[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 00:42, 25 January 2013 (CST)

I really want to read this novel from ages ago, but noone translate it. Thank you very much! [[User:Xenocross|Xenocross]] ([[User talk:Xenocross|talk]]) 23:29, 24 January 2013 (CST)

Thanks a Bunch bro, for picking up this series. I really can't thank you enough. I've been wanting to read this LN since I first found it one year ago. And now that you are here I'm really looking forward to your translations. Wish you best of luck. XD --[[User:Naavi|Naavi]] ([[User talk:Naavi|talk]]) 00:20, 25 January 2013 (CST)

Thank you for picking up this project! I've waited for so long to read Rakuin :3 [[User:ClavelSangrante|ClavelSangrante]] ([[User talk:ClavelSangrante|talk]])

No problem regarding the comments I gave you. I'm going to proofread things a bit if I get around to it -- just tell me when I'm getting to aggressive. All in all, I have to say: good work. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] ([[User talk:EusthEnoptEron|talk]]) 19:16, 26 January 2013 (CST)

Thx for picking up the project, I will make sure to keep up with your latest updates ^^ [[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]])Tuesday, 12 February 2013, 10:29:09 CST

Hi, I have noticed that you are using the word: "[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rink rink]" where I think it should be ring. I have changed it, but if you think that is not correct, you can revert the changes.[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 24 January 2013,16:39 CST

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-02-26T16:46:08Z

LoliDragon: /* Part 3 */

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless beside his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittering brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success. Because the more virtuous people living in the city, to whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at great speed. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

Sword-slaves, the men who were the so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, with just a few days of living, these people were granted all the food they wanted. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators get well-known enough to become veterans, they receive a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Are you watching, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, that rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from those special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

“Don’t say silly things.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear boredom, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, and the young man eventually decided to stay after all, although he rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

Even so, there wasn’t one woman among the crowd who was worried about the tied-up woman’s ungracious position. At the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast, that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

While it didn’t break out of the cage but tried to press against it, suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. On a terrifying false god’s mission to challenge these dragons of old, the figures of these brave men!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator with the intention to compete for either first or second place in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

He was a little eccentric, and there was little else that could be said about this young man, as the gladiator’s face was covered by a steel blue mask. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, it certainly caught attention.

He had no other outstanding character features, either. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. Besides, no matter who I bet on, you will try to rip me off in the end anyway.”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s okay, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people wouldn’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated to the back, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba widely tilted his body over to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift him from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant he nearly left the grounds, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction at the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds with suddenly filled screams broke loose. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people that tried to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they couldn’t just shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while dodging stray bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

Although there was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, rather than drifting the air of a victor, those collected stares he received seemed to bother him, and he looked like a solitary figure.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man and his companions, who were running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And someone else,

“No way, he is alive.”

There was a man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason. He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back, after all, he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats, and as the unique smell of blood drifted about, he was speaking to himself in wonder.

“So it ''is'' Orba. Was it two years? Yes… two years.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much to handle for a single person, but come to take care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was very much, while it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephius’s law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having raised around a pile, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back, who had.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although occasionally, some newcomers asked him about it, but Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were captured in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Mephius Empire and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also been suffering from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, Mephius’s army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so full into work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephius-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, as he shouted out his brother Roan’s name,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, didn’t acknowledge the sight of his brother, though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What for Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, and, a single string of light flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like, when he understood the sword that should’ve pierced through Orba’s heart had somehow been repelled the to the side, he had felled that one soldier. The other roared something in a hoarse voice close by. It looked like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables have gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephius army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-02-26T16:01:38Z

LoliDragon: /* Part 2 */

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless beside his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittering brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success. Because the more virtuous people living in the city, to whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at great speed. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

Sword-slaves, the men who were the so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, with just a few days of living, these people were granted all the food they wanted. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators get well-known enough to become veterans, they receive a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Are you watching, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, that rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from those special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

“Don’t say silly things.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear boredom, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, and the young man eventually decided to stay after all, although he rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

Even so, there wasn’t one woman among the crowd who was worried about the tied-up woman’s ungracious position. At the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast, that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

While it didn’t break out of the cage but tried to press against it, suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. On a terrifying false god’s mission to challenge these dragons of old, the figures of these brave men!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator with the intention to compete for either first or second place in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

He was a little eccentric, and there was little else that could be said about this young man, as the gladiator’s face was covered by a steel blue mask. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, it certainly caught attention.

He had no other outstanding character features, either. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. Besides, no matter who I bet on, you will try to rip me off in the end anyway.”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s okay, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people wouldn’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated to the back, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba widely tilted his body over to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift him from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant he nearly left the grounds, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction at the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds with suddenly filled screams broke loose. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people that tried to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they couldn’t just shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while dodging stray bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

Although there was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, rather than drifting the air of a victor, those collected stares he received seemed to bother him, and he looked like a solitary figure.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man and his companions, who were running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And someone else,

“No way, he is alive.”

There was a man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason. He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back, after all, he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats, and as the unique smell of blood drifted about, he was speaking to himself in wonder.

“So it ''is'' Orba. Was it two years? Yes… two years.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much to handle for a single person, but come to take care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was very much, while it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephius’s law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having raised around a pile, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back, who had.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although occasionally, some newcomers asked him about it, but Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were captured in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Mephius Empire and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also been suffering from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, Mephius’s army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so full into work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephius-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, as he shouted out his brother Roan’s name,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, didn’t acknowledge the sight of his brother, though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What for Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, and, a single string of light flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like, when he understood the sword that should’ve pierced through Orba’s heart had somehow been repelled the to the side, he had felled that one soldier. The other roared something in a hoarse voice close by. It looked like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables have gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephius army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, was came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-02-26T15:55:08Z

LoliDragon: /* Part 1 */

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless beside his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittering brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success. Because the more virtuous people living in the city, to whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at great speed. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

Sword-slaves, the men who were the so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, with just a few days of living, these people were granted all the food they wanted. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators get well-known enough to become veterans, they receive a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Are you watching, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, that rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from those special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

“Don’t say silly things.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear boredom, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, and the young man eventually decided to stay after all, although he rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

Even so, there wasn’t one woman among the crowd who was worried about the tied-up woman’s ungracious position. At the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast, that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

While it didn’t break out of the cage but tried to press against it, suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. On a terrifying false god’s mission to challenge these dragons of old, the figures of these brave men!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator with the intention to compete for either first or second place in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

He was a little eccentric, and there was little else that could be said about this young man, as the gladiator’s face was covered by a steel blue mask. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, it certainly caught attention.

He had no other outstanding character features, either. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. Besides, no matter who I bet on, you will try to rip me off in the end anyway.”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s okay, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people wouldn’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated to the back, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba widely tilted his body over to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift him from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant he nearly left the grounds, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction at the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds with suddenly filled screams broke loose. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people that tried to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they couldn’t just shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while dodging stray bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

Although there was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, rather than drifting the air of a victor, those collected stares he received seemed to bother him, and he looked like a solitary figure.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man and his companions, who were running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And someone else,

“No way, he is alive.”

There was a man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason. He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back, after all, he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats, and as the unique smell of blood drifted about, he was speaking to himself in wonder.

“So it ''is'' Orba. Was it two years? Yes… two years.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle rink. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much to handle for a single person, but come to take care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was very much, while it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephius’s law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having raised around a pile, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back, who had.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although occasionally, some newcomers asked him about it, but Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were captured in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Mephius Empire and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also been suffering from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, Mephius’s army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so full into work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephius-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, as he shouted out his brother Roan’s name,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, didn’t acknowledge the sight of his brother, though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What for Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, and, a single string of light flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like, when he understood the sword that should’ve pierced through Orba’s heart had somehow been repelled the to the side, he had felled that one soldier. The other roared something in a hoarse voice close by. It looked like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables have gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephius army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, was came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Madan no Ou to Vanadis

2013-02-13T21:22:06Z

LoliDragon: /* Readable? */

There is partial translation of volume 2 in jcafe
http://www.jcafe24.net/index.php/topic,30893.msg693029.html#msg693029
[[User:Xenocross|Xenocross]] ([[User talk:Xenocross|talk]]) 12:15, 8 September 2012 (CDT)

You sure that that's the translation and not the summary? --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 12:35, 8 September 2012 (CDT)

I saw it again and only the epilogue part is fully translated. Though 'will have to ask Zephyr for posting it on BT. --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 12:35, 8 September 2012 (CDT)

Well, it's not a very good translation. [[User:Florza|Florza]] ([[User talk:Florza|talk]]) 19:46, 8 September 2012 (CDT)

Did Zephyr answer? Florza, do you intend to continue the translation of vol. 1? --[[User:Darklor|Darklor]] ([[User talk:Darklor|talk]]) 03:41, 15 October 2012 (CDT)

No, zephyr didn't reply. Guess will have to add those by [[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] though with a preview tag. --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 04:30, 15 October 2012 (CDT)

The machine translation by [[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] is quite good. Maybe a little awkward sentences and some small mistakes, but they are readable. I support putting it here with preview tag [[User:Xenocross|Xenocross]] ([[User talk:Xenocross|talk]]) 12:55, 15 October 2012 (CDT)

I am still working on some editing on the way while reading. --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 14:08, 15 October 2012 (CDT)

I have no idea how much work he's put into cleaning and editing these previews, but they are hands down the best machine translations I've ever read. Really, I don't think they even really need to be labeled 'preview'. [[User:Grimjakk|Grimjakk]] ([[User talk:Grimjakk|talk]]) 23:24, 19 October 2012 (CDT)

So can I read it and correct mistakes (if any) I come across?--[[User:Cliff|Cliff]] ([[User talk:Cliff|talk]]) 02:14, 20 October 2012 (CDT)

Should Lim in the Previews be changed to Rim? [[User:Bilagaana|Bilagaana]] ([[User talk:Bilagaana|talk]]) 02:55, 20 October 2012 (CDT)

Same for Massas to Mashas. In the preview, its Massas and in chapter 1 its Mashas.--[[User:Cliff|Cliff]] ([[User talk:Cliff|talk]]) 03:13, 20 October 2012 (CDT)

@Cliff
You can freely edit if you come across any mistakes. For your second query, is that from the preview chapter or from the other one? As you know, they are done by two different translators. So the names will vary. --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 06:15, 21 October 2012 (CDT)

Well, in the previews of volume 1, the name is Massas, and in chapter 1, it was Mashas. So should it be left as is in the preview or be changed to Mashas? And thanks for answering the question.--[[User:Cliff|Cliff]] ([[User talk:Cliff|talk]]) 06:25, 21 October 2012 (CDT)

I've updated the Terminology Page and did a pretty big addition to it, and a lot of the names aren't reflected in whatever crap I uploaded. I'm planning on going through Volume 1 and 3 to make the appropriate changes. I'll be looking at the raws for anything I feel has an odd flow. Since I can't easily read the raws, I will go on what I think sounds out of place rather than what may be mistranslated. I'll be updating the wiki and the pdf's, probably in a week or two, all in one go. I'll give a quick look over what has been updated by the users of the wiki before I do that, but whatever I put up later may end up ignoring/changes whatever people decide to change. I'll apologize in advance for that.

I'm doing this because I need a break from going through the raws, since it takes too long to read through with my lovely new dictionaries (I have a new pocket and desktop dictionary and an old pocket one I thought I lost). I am also doing this because, while it may be a crap machine translation, I would like to polish it up so people can enjoy the novel in as close a representation of the original that I can (actually, screw you people. I don't care what you read. I'm doing this because ''I'' want to read a story as accurately as it can be. I just happen to be willing to upload it :P ). After that, I probably will not bother to touch Volumes 1 or 3 ever again on the wiki. I'm also letting people know because they can point out any place they find especially awkward. I should let you know, though, that I purposely used sentence fragments in some places, so I may end up ignoring whatever people say. Try and contact me through a PM on the forums if you can, or just change it on the appropriate page.

Also, I took out the "Thank you messages" here 'cause it just clutters everything up. -- [[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 17:55, 08 November 2012 (CST)

== Can someone add this to the Light Novels List? ==

If not, I wont bother but if I can I will. I have to use Recent Changes to get to here.

Then jump on to "Teaser Projects" to navigate to the series' main page. --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 06:15, 21 November 2012 (CST)

== New volume ==

Is there any information as to when will the next volume come out?

Not yet, but if the author sticks to his current pattern, it should be late December. No official news on the publisher or author's site, though. —[[User:EnigmaticRepose|EnigmaticRepose]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticRepose|talk]])

Got an update on it. It'll be coming out late January, and although I don't have a specific date, it'll probably be at least after the 20th. —[[User:EnigmaticRepose|EnigmaticRepose]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticRepose|talk]])

== Image Editing ==
I'll be working on the images in the near future. Make sure all the images are uploaded. --[[User:Krytyk|Krytyk]] ([[User talk:Krytyk|talk]]) 06:05, 17 December 2012 (CST)

You should work from the raws, not the images uploaded here. The images uploaded here are resized to fit the size/dimension criteria by B-T in general. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 07:40, 17 December 2012 (CST)

That's theoretically true, but in fact doesn't apply to most of the images for the novels :p, tho, if they are low quality i usually work on raws from the other sites. Don't worry. --[[User:Krytyk|Krytyk]] ([[User talk:Krytyk|talk]]) 12:38, 17 December 2012 (CST)

All volumes got their image's remastered as of todai~--[[User:Krytyk|Krytyk]] ([[User talk:Krytyk|talk]]) 18:11, 20 December 2012 (CST)

Thanks for the effort and good work, Krytyk. I'll be using them when I next upload an updated pdf, if you don't mind. -- [[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 18:31, 20 December 2012 (CST)

By all means~ use it as you wish. --[[User:Krytyk|Krytyk]] ([[User talk:Krytyk|talk]]) 18:41, 20 December 2012 (CST)

Please kindly edit these pictures and post them on novel illustrations on Vol 6. Thanks. (http://www.mediafire.com/?ubpcgtogp65xkuk) <--- please remove the link if I'm not allowed to post it. -- [[User:Oninn|Oninn]] ([[User talk:Oninn|talk]]) 13:48, 08 February 2013 (EST +8)

== Readable? ==

Is this light novel fully translated already? I read that all the preview script is machine translated but it's the best machine translation I've seen and I was wondering if all the chapters that say preview are there in their entirety and not just a segment of the original text before I try giving this a read. Could someone please confirm? And I would also like to know what program was used to translate the text. Thanks--[[User:Mufarasu|Mufarasu]] ([[User talk:Mufarasu|talk]]) 22:07, 2 January 2013 (CST)

It's complete. Maybe a line or two missing, but that's it. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 22:27, 2 January 2013 (CST)

Awesome, thanks again.--[[User:Mufarasu|Mufarasu]] ([[User talk:Mufarasu|talk]]) 23:01, 2 January 2013 (CST)

If only all of the TA translations that I had for VN where so good ^^ Great work! --[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 23:42, 7 February 2013 (CST)

User talk:EnigmaticAxiom

2013-02-12T16:59:48Z

LoliDragon:

you rock thx for ur vol 1 and 3 of Madan no Ou to Vanadis

* thanks for your work, really is too good for a machine translation!!!!

thanx for the madan no ou , machine trans XDD and hoping for the second and fourth tough /sweat

i want to read the full story of this LN , and i hear that there is interesting story on vol 4 .....

if it's ok with you , would you mind to make the vol 4 or 2 XDD

Thanks for the volume. It was an interesting read. --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 03:55, 2 November 2012 (CDT)

sankyou for de previews dood!.You are a genius.
About how you are learning Japanese,Are you learning it online,If then cud you give me the link to a website?pls pls pleasss.Or is their any method that you recommend?.
Have a nice day.

Nothing in particular. I was originally starting with Anki and Heisig's "Remembering the Kanji" to start off, but I stopped doing that. It's actually quite a good method, but since I was trying to read Light Novels anyway, I ended up spending a lot of time just picking out kanji and looking them up in dictionaries. I would highly recommend the Anki (flashcard program) and Heisig method, but it takes two years or so depending on how much time you invest every day. I plan on returning to it eventually, but that will probably only be when I've gotten through the LNs I really want to read.

Another method I considered was to make my own, physical flash cards. Go to the wiki "Kanji by Stroke Count" page and start there. Write the symbol on one side and put the pronunciation, 1 or 2 meanings (they're usually very similar anyway), and the stroke count. Though it is more methodical and includes stroke count + pronunciation (Heisig's only includes meaning), it doesn't offer helpful stories to remember the kanji like you might see in the former method. Heisig's is a good method for reading, but since you don't know what the pronunciation is, it does crap for your ability to speak the language.

If you're looking to read, then Anki + Heisig works well. If you plan to speak, consider Rosetta Stone or a similar program (I gave this a try and just found it somewhat annoying. Very good, but very annoying). If you're looking to do both, it might be best to go for the self-made flashcard route.
Really, it's up to you to decide. There are plenty of methods you can find online, just find one that suits you and tailor it to the time you can offer to it. Since I'm just jumping straight into the LNs and looking up the kanji and what the hira/kata mean, I'm not progressing much in terms of vocabulary, but I'm learning the grammar a bit. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 11:10, 09 November 2012 (CST)

Thanks bro.You're really helpfull.

Anyway I'm the same as you.I'm trying to learn the language in order to read LNs and you know,help up with the translations.

So I should go for the Anki + Heisig and try to read the LNs using a Jap dictionary and google translator right?
.I can learn the vocabulary at leisurely pace anyway.

Thanks again man.You were a real help.I tried googling but there's just so many sites,I didn't know where to look for a efficient/helpful way to learn Jap.If you don't mind me asking,how long did it take for you to be able to read Japanese?

Sorry for taking your time.XD

I can't read Japanese. I'm in the process of learning. I've had katakana/hiragana down for a long time, and I have a rough grasp of what is being said when I hear Japanese, but I can't read it. The grammar is something that can be picked up by reading, but what I lack most is probably vocabulary, which is why I'm focusing on kanji for now (I've been using my LN method for a month and a half now, or something like that?). Since I've been doing this in my free time, I'm getting a whee bit better, but I still think the machine translation is a better interpretation than my own. What I released was primarily the machine translation; I just went through on my own beforehand purely for the sake of learning. I doubt anything I ever "translate" will be anything but a machine translation until I can read without referring to the dictionary for every sentence. Even if it does get to that point, I may very well be too tired of doing all this to properly translate anything for the wiki.

This LN method may be far more time consuming than other methods I mentioned, but it's enjoyable for me. It lets me compare my own interpretation to a (sadly) more accurate machine translation. Even if I don't actually learn anything, I can continue the next day because it is enjoyable. I think one of the biggest reasons people say "I can't read Japanese/Chinese" is because they have an interest, they give learning the language a try, and then they give up after a few days. Language isn't something so simple to learn that you'll pick up a few words here or there in a few days. They don't find it enjoyable and quit; I'm no different. I've been down this path 3 or 4 times, and I've only got hiragana and katakana down to show for it (and sometimes I have to check those as well, if I'm having a brain fart).

I will say this again. This will require a lot of time, no matter what method you choose, so do one you can devote time to (the Anki/Heisig Method is good if you can give it an hour or two a day, every day, since it's good for review). It takes a child approximately 4 years to properly learn how to speak (birth to age 4) during a period of rapid mental growth (which none of us have now) in an environment conducive to learning (they're constantly in an area where the language is being spoken). Most of us are at a point in our lives where we can't devote much time to learning a language, live in a place where the language isn't spoken, and are old enough where our minds aren't flexible enough to pick information up. If you want to bother learning, I would suggest you make sure you can stick with a consistent schedule for at least a month without getting exhausted before you bother starting. This will vary from person to person, but I think it's something a lot of people don't bother thinking about; they just throw themselves into something way over their head without planning. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 10:30, 10 November 2012 (CST)

Got it.I'm definitely going to try and learn it.I have all the time in the world till my results are out anyway(don't have anything to do except reading & watching anime for the next couple of months.)

Thank you very much for going out of your way to answer my question.XD

Thank you bro for translating vol 4 and 5, you're the best! Brofist to you! ~ [[User:Ghost|Ghost]] 8:35am 18 Nov 2012 (GMT + 8)

Are you saying that this is all done by Machine Translation ? Wow amazing!!! [[User:DoomCalibur|DoomCalibur]]

Are you gonna do vols 6 & 7?--[[User:Saganatsu|Saganatsu]] ([[User talk:Saganatsu|talk]]) 14:12, 18 November 2012 (CST)

6 and 7 don't exist. You might be thinking of MKnR, and if that's the case, no. There's a great translator out there, so there's no need for me to touch it. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:Enigmatic Axiom|talk]]) 15:23, 18 November 2012 (CST)

Oh, sorry, Thanks --[[User:Saganatsu|Saganatsu]] ([[User talk:Saganatsu|talk]]) 18:29, 18 November 2012 (CST)

First Thanks for the translations, well just wondering how you do machine translation, i mean how you extract data from picture and from where you translate it from and how is your translation so good even for machine translation. well one thing just asking don't feel like i am forcing or anything are you going to do preview for V6 when that came out and how much time it takes to do a volume. :)
thanks ([[User talk:kakaroet|talk]])

ABBYY Fine Reader to do image --> text.

Read line by line. If confusing, read sentence by sentence. If confusing, read fragment by fragment (between punctuation).

Keep things in the back of your mind, so if you find something that differs from what you read earlier, recheck both portions and compare.

Attempt to keep things coherent on at least a page by page basis. If it doesn't make sense in one line, chances are you fucked up somewhere else.

As for how long it takes, no idea. My schedule now is different from my schedule before. Since I attempt to read myself, I catch some of the kanji errors that occur from ABBYY Fine Reader, but my pace is probably 2-3 pages an hour at most (for Vanadis, since my vocabulary is a bit more geared towards it, maybe I can double that on a good pace). That's 2-3 LN pages, not word document pages. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 28 November 2012, 14:40 (CST)

Hey EnigmaticAxiom thanks for all the hard work Madan no Ou to Vanadis. I just through the latest volume you translated and appreciate you going through the trouble of translating for those that can't read japanese. Well good luck and hope to see more of your translations of Madan no Ou to Vanadis. ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 4 February 2012, 22:40 (CST)

hi enigmaticaxiom...thanks all for all the TL you have done for us that cannot read japanese but want to read the light novel...by the way will you translate vol 6?

I'll be reading it, and chances are I'll be working on it, but since I'm more focused on learning the kanji than getting the book out, it will take a long time. I wouldn't expect anything (if I do anything at all) any time soon. -- [[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] 9:15, 5 February 2013 (CST)

Hi!
First of all I would like to thank you for your work on Madan no Ou to Vanadis, I loved it!!! If I would be able to enjoy the 6th volume, I would be truly grateful ^^
Now about the other thing, you mentioned that you wanted scans of Shissousuru Shishunki no Parabellum. Not sure if you still need it, but I found a link to all 7 vols of raws: http://manga-zip.net/archives/2052.html
I hope this helps and encourage you to do more translations ^^
p.s. Any chance I get my hands on the first preview vol of Shissou Suru Shisunki no Parabellum? --[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) Tuesday, 12 February 2013, 10:51:41 CST

User talk:EnigmaticAxiom

2013-02-12T16:55:43Z

LoliDragon:

you rock thx for ur vol 1 and 3 of Madan no Ou to Vanadis

* thanks for your work, really is too good for a machine translation!!!!

thanx for the madan no ou , machine trans XDD and hoping for the second and fourth tough /sweat

i want to read the full story of this LN , and i hear that there is interesting story on vol 4 .....

if it's ok with you , would you mind to make the vol 4 or 2 XDD

Thanks for the volume. It was an interesting read. --[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 03:55, 2 November 2012 (CDT)

sankyou for de previews dood!.You are a genius.
About how you are learning Japanese,Are you learning it online,If then cud you give me the link to a website?pls pls pleasss.Or is their any method that you recommend?.
Have a nice day.

Nothing in particular. I was originally starting with Anki and Heisig's "Remembering the Kanji" to start off, but I stopped doing that. It's actually quite a good method, but since I was trying to read Light Novels anyway, I ended up spending a lot of time just picking out kanji and looking them up in dictionaries. I would highly recommend the Anki (flashcard program) and Heisig method, but it takes two years or so depending on how much time you invest every day. I plan on returning to it eventually, but that will probably only be when I've gotten through the LNs I really want to read.

Another method I considered was to make my own, physical flash cards. Go to the wiki "Kanji by Stroke Count" page and start there. Write the symbol on one side and put the pronunciation, 1 or 2 meanings (they're usually very similar anyway), and the stroke count. Though it is more methodical and includes stroke count + pronunciation (Heisig's only includes meaning), it doesn't offer helpful stories to remember the kanji like you might see in the former method. Heisig's is a good method for reading, but since you don't know what the pronunciation is, it does crap for your ability to speak the language.

If you're looking to read, then Anki + Heisig works well. If you plan to speak, consider Rosetta Stone or a similar program (I gave this a try and just found it somewhat annoying. Very good, but very annoying). If you're looking to do both, it might be best to go for the self-made flashcard route.
Really, it's up to you to decide. There are plenty of methods you can find online, just find one that suits you and tailor it to the time you can offer to it. Since I'm just jumping straight into the LNs and looking up the kanji and what the hira/kata mean, I'm not progressing much in terms of vocabulary, but I'm learning the grammar a bit. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 11:10, 09 November 2012 (CST)

Thanks bro.You're really helpfull.

Anyway I'm the same as you.I'm trying to learn the language in order to read LNs and you know,help up with the translations.

So I should go for the Anki + Heisig and try to read the LNs using a Jap dictionary and google translator right?
.I can learn the vocabulary at leisurely pace anyway.

Thanks again man.You were a real help.I tried googling but there's just so many sites,I didn't know where to look for a efficient/helpful way to learn Jap.If you don't mind me asking,how long did it take for you to be able to read Japanese?

Sorry for taking your time.XD

I can't read Japanese. I'm in the process of learning. I've had katakana/hiragana down for a long time, and I have a rough grasp of what is being said when I hear Japanese, but I can't read it. The grammar is something that can be picked up by reading, but what I lack most is probably vocabulary, which is why I'm focusing on kanji for now (I've been using my LN method for a month and a half now, or something like that?). Since I've been doing this in my free time, I'm getting a whee bit better, but I still think the machine translation is a better interpretation than my own. What I released was primarily the machine translation; I just went through on my own beforehand purely for the sake of learning. I doubt anything I ever "translate" will be anything but a machine translation until I can read without referring to the dictionary for every sentence. Even if it does get to that point, I may very well be too tired of doing all this to properly translate anything for the wiki.

This LN method may be far more time consuming than other methods I mentioned, but it's enjoyable for me. It lets me compare my own interpretation to a (sadly) more accurate machine translation. Even if I don't actually learn anything, I can continue the next day because it is enjoyable. I think one of the biggest reasons people say "I can't read Japanese/Chinese" is because they have an interest, they give learning the language a try, and then they give up after a few days. Language isn't something so simple to learn that you'll pick up a few words here or there in a few days. They don't find it enjoyable and quit; I'm no different. I've been down this path 3 or 4 times, and I've only got hiragana and katakana down to show for it (and sometimes I have to check those as well, if I'm having a brain fart).

I will say this again. This will require a lot of time, no matter what method you choose, so do one you can devote time to (the Anki/Heisig Method is good if you can give it an hour or two a day, every day, since it's good for review). It takes a child approximately 4 years to properly learn how to speak (birth to age 4) during a period of rapid mental growth (which none of us have now) in an environment conducive to learning (they're constantly in an area where the language is being spoken). Most of us are at a point in our lives where we can't devote much time to learning a language, live in a place where the language isn't spoken, and are old enough where our minds aren't flexible enough to pick information up. If you want to bother learning, I would suggest you make sure you can stick with a consistent schedule for at least a month without getting exhausted before you bother starting. This will vary from person to person, but I think it's something a lot of people don't bother thinking about; they just throw themselves into something way over their head without planning. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 10:30, 10 November 2012 (CST)

Got it.I'm definitely going to try and learn it.I have all the time in the world till my results are out anyway(don't have anything to do except reading & watching anime for the next couple of months.)

Thank you very much for going out of your way to answer my question.XD

Thank you bro for translating vol 4 and 5, you're the best! Brofist to you! ~ [[User:Ghost|Ghost]] 8:35am 18 Nov 2012 (GMT + 8)

Are you saying that this is all done by Machine Translation ? Wow amazing!!! [[User:DoomCalibur|DoomCalibur]]

Are you gonna do vols 6 & 7?--[[User:Saganatsu|Saganatsu]] ([[User talk:Saganatsu|talk]]) 14:12, 18 November 2012 (CST)

6 and 7 don't exist. You might be thinking of MKnR, and if that's the case, no. There's a great translator out there, so there's no need for me to touch it. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:Enigmatic Axiom|talk]]) 15:23, 18 November 2012 (CST)

Oh, sorry, Thanks --[[User:Saganatsu|Saganatsu]] ([[User talk:Saganatsu|talk]]) 18:29, 18 November 2012 (CST)

First Thanks for the translations, well just wondering how you do machine translation, i mean how you extract data from picture and from where you translate it from and how is your translation so good even for machine translation. well one thing just asking don't feel like i am forcing or anything are you going to do preview for V6 when that came out and how much time it takes to do a volume. :)
thanks ([[User talk:kakaroet|talk]])

ABBYY Fine Reader to do image --> text.

Read line by line. If confusing, read sentence by sentence. If confusing, read fragment by fragment (between punctuation).

Keep things in the back of your mind, so if you find something that differs from what you read earlier, recheck both portions and compare.

Attempt to keep things coherent on at least a page by page basis. If it doesn't make sense in one line, chances are you fucked up somewhere else.

As for how long it takes, no idea. My schedule now is different from my schedule before. Since I attempt to read myself, I catch some of the kanji errors that occur from ABBYY Fine Reader, but my pace is probably 2-3 pages an hour at most (for Vanadis, since my vocabulary is a bit more geared towards it, maybe I can double that on a good pace). That's 2-3 LN pages, not word document pages. --[[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 28 November 2012, 14:40 (CST)

Hey EnigmaticAxiom thanks for all the hard work Madan no Ou to Vanadis. I just through the latest volume you translated and appreciate you going through the trouble of translating for those that can't read japanese. Well good luck and hope to see more of your translations of Madan no Ou to Vanadis. ([[User talk:EnigmaticAxiom|talk]]) 4 February 2012, 22:40 (CST)

hi enigmaticaxiom...thanks all for all the TL you have done for us that cannot read japanese but want to read the light novel...by the way will you translate vol 6?

I'll be reading it, and chances are I'll be working on it, but since I'm more focused on learning the kanji than getting the book out, it will take a long time. I wouldn't expect anything (if I do anything at all) any time soon. -- [[User:EnigmaticAxiom|EnigmaticAxiom]] 9:15, 5 February 2013 (CST)

Hi!
First of all I would like to thank you for your work on Madan no Ou to Vanadis, I loved it!!! If I would be able to enjoy the 6th volume, I would be truly grateful ^^
Now about the other thing, you mentioned that you wanted scans of Shissousuru Shishunki no Parabellum. Not sure if you still need it, but I found a link to all 7 vols of raws: http://manga-zip.net/archives/2052.html
I hope this helps and encourage you to do more translations ^^ --[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) Tuesday, 12 February 2013, 10:51:41 CST

User talk:Dohma

2013-02-12T16:42:20Z

LoliDragon:

User talk:EusthEnoptEron

2012-12-06T22:26:42Z

LoliDragon: /* Appreciation and a question */

Hehe, that was the reason behind that ;) --[[User:Darklor|Darklor]] 20:59, 22 December 2009 (UTC)
:The page contents box? I don't know if it's useful, really. The reasons I removed it:
:# it blows up the layout (admittedly not badly)
:# the titles looked like "1.1 1", "1.1 2" (could be fixed, thought)
:# I haven't seen anything like this on any other BT project.
:On the other hand, it might not be a bad thing and reflects the content of the chapter. Freshness and accessibility. So I don't mind either way. ;)
:[[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 22:33, 22 December 2009 (UTC)

Ah, but I have seen it in some projects (like [[To_Aru_Majutsu_no_Index:Volume12_Chapter1|here]] and [[Maria-sama_ga_Miteru:Volume1_Chapter1|here]] and I believe also somewhere else if the chapters were divided in subsections (so I thought its custom ;)) (I think for some its for a easier navigation in the chapter or to differentiate the pages - who knows for sure) Also I dont know if much could be done to change the titles of the subsections (but also one can hide the content) --[[User:Darklor|Darklor]] 23:59, 22 December 2009 (UTC)
:You got me. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 11:26, 23 December 2009 (UTC)

Thanks for your work on Utsuro no Hako. I'm enjoying it.

Want to second that emotion! Thanks so much EEE!

What? Who? When did you translate this and why haven't I noticed it from the beginning? This is an excellent series and you translated an entire volume a month...that's ungodly. I just wanted to write here to say how awesome it's been reading this series (just finished the first book--I hated the way the author had me with the 'owner' mystery because of his cheap shot) and that I seriously congratulate you on your translations. Sure, they aren't perfect, but you clearly tell this wonderful story, and I'm definitely glad I read it. I truly hope you continue translating ^^.

Totally not trying to butter you up into translating more,

~Blaster

:Thanks for the positive messages Blaster and anon IPs. :D I'm really glad you guys enjoyed the story as much as I did, which is what drove me to translate the whole thing. Though, I'm still not sure just how readable I can translate an already quite complicated book like this. But for now, I think I'll keep translating at least until volume 4 (since volume 3 is my favorite one and hell of a cliff-hanger). [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 17:53, 25 March 2010 (UTC)

Hey, is there any way to contact you (skype/msn/whatever)? --LoSs 09:18, 13 April 2010 (UTC)
:Email (Romanize without spaces): 海からやって来た[_at_]yahoo.co.jp [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 13:14, 13 April 2010 (UTC)

Also for registered users is down in the toolbox an option to email another user if the other user has allowed that ;) also there are PM's possible at the forum (for registerd users) --[[User:Darklor|Darklor]] 13:27, 13 April 2010 (UTC)

Great job. This novel is very good and I'm really happy that you're translating it. Keep up the good work.

The reason why I signed up to edit was mainly because of your awesome work with Utsuro no Hako, since I wanted to help out by doing whatever I could. Looking forward to working on more in the future! --[[User:Enthormw|Enthormw]] 20:53, 19 April 2010 (UTC)
:Thanks a bunch for the great edits! The awkward English I use is always my biggest worry, so I'm glad someone improves the flow and gets rid of some spelling mistakes for me. ;) [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 21:04, 19 April 2010 (UTC)

== Asking permission for Vietnamese translation of Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria ==

Hi, EusthEnoptEron.

I find this novel interesting with a bit mysterious. Therefore, I would like to translate Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria into Vietnamese based on your translation. Would you mind if I use this as source?

Thank you for reading.
:Feel free to use it. Also, just ask if you need some help understanding a part. (It's not edited yet, so things might be more confusing than they are already.) [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 04:19, 23 April 2010 (UTC)

== Spanish translation/Praise ;) ==

Hi! I've just finished reading the first volume, with it's many twists and turns in a way that is almost unbelievable, this has definitely gotten to be another one of my favorite series here at B-T. For that, I'd like to thank you for translating it into a language I can read! So, thank you very much!

I've liked this so much that I hope you won't mind me translating this into spanish!! (After I can peel my eyes off of it... or rather, I get to the last translated chapter)

Again, thanks for making this awesome light novel available in english. :)

-[[user:Mertius|Mertius]]

:I'd love to see UnH in Spanish, so please go for it! :D Spread the Maria-love~ Good luck if you're going to tackle it (I hope you like the other volumes as well). [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 04:28, 12 July 2010 (UTC)

== Hidan no Aria/Praise ==

Thanks for the edits on Hidan no Aria most of the time I do the translations at night before I go to sleep so mistakes are often made especially since Japanese is my third language.

I would also like to thank you for your translation of Utsuru no hako to zero no maria because I have read it, and it was a great novel.

== great novel i've ever read ==

arigatou for translating this series of novel, you manage to update this series very fast(heard the 4th volume in japan just came this june). i very like it. and i hope u never get bored o translate this series(i'm beging on you please he..he, and i wonder how u can learn japanese language? i too want to learn japanese as well, but i don't know the effective way to learn it, so i hope u can give some tips or advise to us what is the effective way to learn japanese.

:Nice that you liked it! As for Japanese, I present you the Eusth's four steps to Japanese:
:# Read the [http://www.alljapaneseallthetime.com/blog/all-japanese-all-the-time-ajatt-how-to-learn-japanese-on-your-own-having-fun-and-to-fluency stuff on here]
:# Meditate for a few days if you '''really''' want to sacrifice ''a lot'' of time for Japanese. That's what the Japanese call 覚悟!
:# Fight yourself through the 3000 Kanji and the Kana as mentioned on AJATT
:# Read, listen, live Japanese. Maybe even set a limit of how long you allow yourself to read something other than Japanese (I used [http://www.proginosko.com/leechblock.html LeechBlock]. 
:Well, that's one way. What's most important is that you get started. :D [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 10:46, 25 July 2010 (UTC)

== Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria ==

Hi, EusthEnoptEron.

I've found many positive comments about this novel. Could you tell me where I can read this novel in japanese language?
: Either buy the novels at YesAsia / bk1 or you should find the raws without much trouble through google. (except of volume4. There are no scans yet) [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 09:28, 9 August 2010 (UTC)

Would you like me to make a nav template for utsuro? [[User:Zero2001|Zero2001]] - [[User_talk:Zero2001|Talk]] - 04:44, 25 August 2011 (CDT)
:Thanks, but I don't think it needs one. Considering the unconventional chaptering and the fact that there's no table of contents in the original novel at all, I want the reader to see as little as possible of the flow of the story. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 05:19, 25 August 2011 (CDT)

Alright, your choice. Though I don't see how it would show the flow seeing it doesn't show it on the main page. If there are any other projects you're supervising and you think it might need one feel free to ask. [[User:Zero2001|Zero2001]] - [[User_talk:Zero2001|Talk]] - 05:25, 25 August 2011 (CDT)

am i correct that now it's not zero but O, pronounced like oh?--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 16:39, 14 July 2012 (CDT)
: Correct. In fact, I've known that for 2 years now but didn't bother to change it because there was no proof. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 17:38, 14 July 2012 (CDT)

Suddenly full text? Thank you based EEE. [[User:Undesco|undesco]] ([[User talk:Undesco|talk]]) 17:45, 26 August 2012 (CDT)

== My most sincere thanks ==

Really, I must say that I love how Eiji Mikage develops his characters. As soon as I noticed that you had uploaded the rest of the volume 4, I couldn't stop reading it until I was finished. Koudai Kamiuchi didn't dissapoint me in the least. Oh well, later I'll see if I can help a little bit with the editing (I'm not adept at rephrasing sentences since I learnt english by myself). Oh and thanks for the Eusth's way to Japanese, eventually I plan to learn it too lol. [[User:Lne|Lne]] 04:20, 3 August 2010 (UTC)
:I agree. Whew, I need to read his other works one of these days. Ah, and I noticed that you already corrected some of my edits, thanks for that! :D And good luck if you ever start learning Japanese. You'll discover its beauty～ [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 09:28, 9 August 2010 (UTC)

== Haha, once again ==
I commented on how awesome you were at translating, and how awesome this series was, so I wanted to do something for when you finished, too. Honestly--you rock. That story made my day. I even figured out the ending of the 'Game of Idleness' early! God, I think that was the only thing I figured out early. I mean, really. How hard is this book to catch on early anyway? :/ Anyway, thank you so much! Haha, I'd love to talk more but you have no email or instant messenger to contact you D: Oh well. It was an epic, amazing, awesome read.

Thanks again,

~Blaster

:Glad you liked it! Finally I've accomplished what I announced in my previous answer to you ("translate until volume 4") but I guess, I'll also translate volume 5 when it comes out (and I still have time on my hands). :D [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 09:28, 9 August 2010 (UTC)

== ONCE AGAIN!! ==

Thankyoou!!!.... finally all the chapter have been translated. thanks for your hard word, and thanks for your tips that you mentioned above(topic: great novel i've ever read, i'm the same person). BTW, do u know when the next chapter come out and another series that the author mentioned is?? i want to read it so badly >_<.
anyway thankyou for your hard work.(seriously ^_^) i can't wait for you next project, so gambattene..!!
:No idea when the new one comes out (maybe end of this year, beginning of next?), but his other project could possibly be [[Talk:Utsuro_no_Hako:Volume4_Author's_Notes|冥王星O]]. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 09:28, 9 August 2010 (UTC)

== Dantalian no Shoka/Vietnamese Translation/Praise ==

I'm quite a fan of dark fantasy, mystery so I find this novel great. Would you mind if I translate it into vietnamese?

Anyway thank you so much for translating HakoMari and this novel! I love them both! Hope you can finish vol 1 soon :D.

P/s: I can't find the raw of vol 1 anywhere. If you got 1 pls pm me at diablofanno1@yahoo.com.
:I sent you an e-mail if you didn't see it yet. But as I mentioned there as well: feel free to translate it. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 09:28, 9 August 2010 (UTC)

hey, just wanna check with you whether you have any plans to resume dantalian no shoka. Thanks for all your hard work on volume 1 btw--[[User:Hayashi s|Hayashi s]] 11:13, 27 June 2012 (CDT)
: Heyho. Nah, no plans. The stories themselves are enjoyable, but the lack of a common thread and a worthwhile end makes a translation pointless in my eyes. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 11:42, 27 June 2012 (CDT)
== Thank you post ==

I want to say thank you. I just finished reading Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria vol.1. <s>While I couldn't scream awesome on the novel itself just yet, It's great.</s> Finished vol.2, this series is awesome. And I can honestly say you're awesome. Thanks for your work.
--[[User:Hypernova|Hypernova]] 01:36, 11 August 2010 (UTC)

== Edits ==

For Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria, why edit "fufu" to "hehe"? The former is more of a sinister/evil strange laugh, and it doesn't translate to "hehe". For this series, that kind of laugh is fitting of the characters. I hope you didn't change all the fufu to hehe in your translations! (including Dantalian no Shoka) [[User:Imagker|Imagker]] 19:38, 24 August 2010 (UTC)

:Mh, actually I was planning to change most of them. Fufu just seems so non-English. But I agree that it's not really replaceable 1:1. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 19:41, 24 August 2010 (UTC)

In anime/manga/games/LN/etc, "fufu/fu fu fu" is normally associated with maniacal characters or evil to smugged, cold, sadistic, just plain amused characters who are devising a plan, etc. It'd be betraying their archetype design if we had them say hehe or something else entirely. I'll go through each chapter to see if there are any more changes and will revert them back to fufu... If that's fine with you. If yes, then, if you can recall any part where you originally went with hehe instead of fufu during your draft, can you change those too? [[User:Imagker|Imagker]] 21:46, 24 August 2010 (UTC)
:Well, okay then, I guess. There are some instances in volume 4 - I'll change them. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 16:32, 26 August 2010 (UTC)

Fufu shall be evil laughing? I wouldnt understand that... --[[User:Darklor|Darklor]] 19:55, 26 August 2010 (UTC)

Hmmm, as far as i know it´s more accurate to say that is a "meaningful laugh", where it´s abit on the mocking side, is a bit hard to describe but it doesn´t truly have to be done by an evil character; afterall, since it´s "meaningul", it generally points at something, or indicates something that the character finds amusing, in fact is rather hard to use it in any other form without it feeling out of place.(Well in fact i can think of one instance in Hakomari that´s a good example of it´s general use but...well i´m already quite long-winded as it is...)
[[User:Caramu|Caramu]] 20:17, 26 August 2010 (UTC)

:Yeah, and "hihi" "hehe" "huhu" "haha" "hrhr" just all feel off. Fufu doesn't look good, but I think it gets across the correct meaning at least. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 21:20, 26 August 2010 (UTC)

why don't you also translate the japanese inscription in vol.3 illustration?in other vol.(2 and 4 especially)they were meaningful and interesting insight into the charactr's thought that weren't in the novel.
furthermore,it really hurt me to see how much you work to edit/improve the novel(:even changing the past-present tense in previous novel);i of course apprectiate all you(and kadi) did to transqalte those 4 vol. so fast.No word could express how grateful i am-only money could-but i think you should no overwork yourself so much.but it's just my opinion;i hope i didn't offend you.
:Aah, I forgot about those. I'll add them when I have time. Regarding the edits; it's my favorite LN, so I want it to be at the highest possible level. :D And I'm not really working on any other project right now, so I can go on about it quite relaxed. But thanks for your opinion. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 16:21, 31 August 2010 (UTC)

=Thank you=
Finished the entirety of Utsuro no Hako. I can't believe how well you somehow translated and edited it in the short time that you did. It was an amazing story. Rock on.

~Blaster~

== any news ==

is there any news when vol. 5 will be come out?
:Nothing known yet. Though it's not coming before May, that's for sure. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 15:47, 14 February 2011 (UTC)

== heve one ==

hey, do u have your own blog or facebook? :)
:Nope. Though, technically, I do have a facebook account and a website, but I use neither of them. ;D [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 16:26, 16 February 2011 (UTC)

== Tabi ni Deyou ==

I love the story, and I have time during my school break, so I'm doing some major edits offline (I'm rewriting paragraphs and such to make it read much more smoothly, but with the same content and stuff.) so after I finish the first chapter, where should I put it so you can check my changes for accuracy? It's in LaTeX for now, so I can make a PDF anytime, but when I finish editing the chapter I'll make a version with wiki markup instead. [[User:CarVac|CarVac]] 00:46, 15 March 2011 (EDT)
:Oh, that's great. :D For checks you can send it to me via mail (umikarayattekita[a.t]yahoo.co.jp) or you could just update the wiki page directly (shouldn't be problematic if there are some minor inaccuracies). Another alternative would be using my private wiki where I translate on. ;) Whatever suits you best~ [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 01:51, 15 March 2011 (EDT)

== amazing thank you ==

hey ive just got to say that this book was an amazing read and a great way to spend my last week
and i had a question i know this was asked in February but i was wondering if there was any news of a 5th volume yet?
:Glad you liked it. There's no news of a 5th volume yet, but of a [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=44&t=3161&start=315#p82619 new series by him]. We don't know what happened to Hakomari yet, but we'll probably find out in the "Afterword" of that new novel. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 04:32, 8 June 2011 (UCT)

== I think there's some overlap in taste here... ==

I've been reading light novels here for a while...since vol 4 of Haruhi was halfway done. Some I like, some I don't. It's a matter of taste, like anything else. I've read both the Utsuru no Hako series and Gekkou and they're both at the top of a short list of favorites. Of the two, I think I prefer vol 1 of Hako slightly just because it scratches my science fiction itch along with my psychological horror itch. Great stuff. My Japanese isn't good enough to translate, but I'm happy to edit these (as I did with all of Gekkou) because they're so different/interesting and not at all like the generic LN offering here. I don't know how you're finding the good stuff that nobody else has even heard of, but keep up the good work! [[User:Senile seinen|Senile seinen]] 20:22, 12 July 2011 (UCT)
:嬉しいことを言うね。 Very delighted to see that you enjoyed them as much as I did. I'm pretty much just randomly picking novels that look/sound interesting, but it seems like I've been quite lucky so far. ;) Anyway, thanks for your great edits! I've looked through all of them and learned quite a few new things. --[[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 22:39, 12 July 2011 (UCT)

== Gekkou Vietnamese Translation ==

Hi, EusthEnoptEron.

I'm Nanaya from [http://vnsharing.net/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=268 vnsharing]. Would you mind if I translate Gekkou into Vietnamese based on your translation? Thank you for such a great novel and look forward to your reply. --[[User:Nanaya|Nanaya]] 20:36, 25 September 2011 (CDT)

:Hey Nanaya. Sure, feel free to give Gekkou a kick-ass Vietnamese translation! :D [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 13:39, 26 September 2011 (CDT)

== Gekkou ~ Russian translation ==

Hello, EusthEnoptEron. Thanks for translation of Gekkou and of course HakoMari. Well, I and some more people are currently translating Gekkou using your translation as base. So, I thought, we need your permission for this even if we aren't going to post it here.

Best regards,
[[User:Rock96|Rock96]]
:Same as above -- I'd love to see Gekkou translated in Russian. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 13:39, 26 September 2011 (CDT)

== Edited sugar dark ==

Edited the first chapter lightly, under the impression that you did the translation?
Hope you like it. Refrained from large changes to the flow, please advice further actions.

--[[User:Novium|Novium]] 23:23, 13 December 2011 (CST)

== Thank you Eusth for all your work. ==

I enjoyed Zero no Maria and Gekkou a lot! Tabi no Deyou was also quite good. I like how you pick up interesting works! Do you have plans on starting up a new project? I'd love to read anything you find interesting!

== tsukumodo antique shop ==

when i read the story synopsis, i thought it was interesting and had my attention. then, i scrolled down and looked at list of translators. i was like "it's expected". lol

--[[User:Shera|Shera]] 09:59, 16 February 2012 (CST)
:Shera, I like your taste. :D [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 05:16, 18 February 2012 (CST)

btw, how is "Vision" (of the main character) written in Japanese?
:ヴィジョン

Miki and I had both been in an all-girls middle school. Therefore, there had only been girls that could be target of her admiration. But with graduating to a mixed middle school, she regained what is called a "healthy mind".
is the first sentence meant "elementary school"?
: Yeah, you're right. orz [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 06:44, 14 April 2012 (CDT)

== Dantalian no Shoko ==

I wonder if you could continue translating the Dantalian LNs because I think quite a few people want to read it further and can't read moon (yet).

If you are unable to due to time or any other reason could you make some good summaries at least? That would be appreciated too.
:Dantalian no Shoka is a great LN, but it lacks a main story that connects everything, which bothers me a little. I'll think about making a few summaries, but I guess you'll also be able to read some of the stories in the manga (though I have no idea how actively this one is translated). :D [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 10:26, 29 April 2012 (CDT)

Hm I'll look around for the manga and keep an eye out for your summaries if you decide to do them, thanks.

==Antique shop Edits==

hi, i editted 2/3 of chapter 1. i had some questions, so i put them in ch.1 discussion page. can you please take a look?--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 02:39, 30 April 2012 (CDT)
------------------------------------
thanks. i added some more questions in the discussion page...

and i just had an epiphany about the sentence where the bonds were cut. how about "severed"? imho sounds cool))

--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 06:05, 30 April 2012 (CDT)
-----------------------------
done with chapter 1. questions in discussion as before...
----------------------------------
i'll get to editting chapter 2 as soon as i finish reading it....today, later. RL stuff and whatnot.PS. thanks for finishing the chapter))--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 09:39, 4 May 2012 (CDT)
----------------------------------------
edited a bit of chapter 2. questions in the discussion page...--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 08:28, 6 May 2012 (CDT)
----------------------------------------
btw, how long are the remaining two chapters?--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 10:11, 6 May 2012 (CDT)
: Chapter 3: 85, Chapter 4: 53 [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 10:21, 6 May 2012 (CDT)
*thanks. man, that's gonna be a long wait...--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 10:24, 6 May 2012 (CDT)

== Interesting novels ! ==

Really appreciate u for introducing all these novels ! really perked up my interest !
I will be glad if i can be any help in translation since i can read jap
: Glad to hear that I met your taste. :D Any help with translating / editing would be most appreciated if you're confident in your skills. In concrete terms, Tsukumodo (the remaining novels), Gekkou (a short story) or Dantalian (although stalled) do still have stuff left to do. Though, if you haven't read that many light novels yet, I recommend staying a reader for a little longer, since that's a lot more fun than translating. ;] [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 15:55, 2 July 2012 (CDT)

== Thanks for translating ==
Thanks for taking the time to translate the novels. I would really like to thank you in particular for translating Maria, I'm looking every week for updates to the 5th volume!

== How to best express my appreciation for your awesome efforts! ==
You're responsible for translating most of my favorites - Utsuro no Hako,
Gekkou, Our Journey to the End of the Ceasing World - to name just a few. I just started (maybe overenthusiastically, orz) tackling edits to Tsukumodo Antique Shop in thanks, but was wondering what your priorities are for editor efforts: for instance, if you feel Gekkou is complete already, so we shouldn't spend time there; otoh, if you want Utsuro no Hako to be uber-polished, etc etc

Anyway, much thanks (and sorry if my edits are too intrusive)...I haven't done a lot yet, but figured I should check in early rather than be a pain in the butt...

[[User:Grrarr|Grrarr]] 08:38, 12 July 2012 (EDT)
: First of all, thanks a bunch for the edits you made so far. :D Made my day. And don't worry about being too intrusive: if it sound better/more correct/more natural, then it's a good edit, and it will help me pick up new words, figures of speech and whatnot, since I try to check every edit. In fact, for me the most nerve-racking thing while translating is being unable to find a good-sounding and natural wording, so I'm always delighted if someone makes the stuff flow better.

:As for priorities: Hopefully sometime during the next week I'm going to start working on Hakomari 5, which will have top priority. Translation and editing will take place on my private wiki because I want the translation to be as good as possible. If you want to join (in fact, anyone who wants to join) just drop me a message in the forums or at umikarayattekita{AT}yahoo.co.jp and you'll get '''instant access''' (not wanting to sound like a pr0n site).
:* Apart from Hakomari, I'd like to focus mainly on Tsukumodo, since there's still a whack-load of work to be done there (mostly translation-wise).
:* Gekkou: Considered completed. I'm satisfied with its editing state (pretty much the only project I am)
:* Tabi ni Deyou: Don't plan on putting much more work into it. Was just a little one-man side-project.
:* Hakomari <5: I've pretty much given up on getting them into shape. :D yyr has gone through them and erased a lot of errors though.
: [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] 10:06, 12 July 2012 (CDT)

Eh, no worries - all I can do is edit, so I decided to edit... :) Just glad I'm not stepping on your toes... sent you a PM re: Hakomari 5 access as well. Thanks again!
[[User:Grrarr|Grrarr]] 13:18, 12 July 2012 (CDT)
Thanks for the access - until Hakomari 5 goes up on the private wiki, I'm mostly working on Tsukumodo on baka-tsuki (since your private wiki copy of Tsukumodo seems to be an older version). Keep up your excellent work! [[User:Grrarr|Grrarr]] 21:25, 12 July 2012 (CDT)

EEE, dropped you a message on the forums.--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 13:16, 14 July 2012 (CDT)

Thanks! Damn, I need a personal wiki too))--[[User:Idiffer|Idiffer]] 13:35, 14 July 2012 (CDT)

== Thank You So Much! ==

I really mean it. I sure took my time to come here and express my gratitude. Anyway, i must say it. All the works you translated had some significance for me. All of them. Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria made me like reading in the first place, it was something like two years ago (that's why I've said that I took too long of a time to came here and express my gratitude). Gekkou made me laugh for days, damn, I'm still laughing right now even tough it's not a story I'm supposed to laugh about. Anyway, Tabi ni Deyou was beautiful. I can't really say about Dantalian since I've still didn't read the novel, but I like the story from the anime and manga. And now I'm reading Tsukumodo Antique Shop. I've just ended the first volume and really, it was great. Well enough blabbering, I'm here to give you my thanks but also to cheer you on Tsukumodo, it's a great novel and I'd really like to read it to end. I hope that some of my gratitude reached you since I would have never known any of these novels if not for your hard work. While I'm at it I would like to ask you permission to translate Utsuro and Tsukumodo into Brazillian Portuguese. Well, technically I'm already translating Utsuro for about some time. You can check it [http://lightnovelproject.blogspot.com.br/ here] in the label "Projetos" presently the links are suspended for a new revision on the chapters but you can still see the project page if you want. Thanks for taking your time to read this, and again, thank you very much for your hard work!
:Wow, I'm really delighted that you enjoyed them so much. :D After all, I also love them all myself. Also, feel free to use my translations, and just ask if you have trouble understanding something. --[[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] ([[User talk:EusthEnoptEron#top|talk]]) 14:52, 31 August 2012 (CDT)

== Gekkou, SS2 ==

Hi,

I read and write Chinese fluently. I would definitely be willing to translate Gekkou for you.

[User:paulywolly|paulywolly]

== Appreciation and a question ==

First of all, I want to thank you for your hard work on translating Gekkou and Tsukumodo Antique Shop!
I loved both of them!

I would like to know if you are going to continue translating Tsukumodo Antique Shop, as I noticed you are not registered to be working on its translation. I would be glad to help with editing Tsukumodo Antique Shop, if you decide to continue working on it.

Cheers,
--[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]
:Glad you enjoyed your read. :D
:As for Tsukumodo: Yes, I'm still planning on completing it, although it's hard to gather enough motivation as the series is not exactly popular (no anime, etc). Every help is greatly appreciated, since knowing that my grammatical train wrecks are being taken care of would be a great weight off my shoulders. ;) Also, don't worry about being too aggressive should you decide to do some edits; I don't know about other translators, but I'm ''very'' open-minded in this respect. By the way, I've actually already started working on the next chapter on my personal wiki -- I'm probably going to release by chapter from now on. -[[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] ([[User talk:EusthEnoptEron#top|talk]]) 10:27, 6 December 2012 (CST)

::Great! Consider yourself owning an editor ^^ Chapter by chapter is a lot better, since it is rather hard to go through an entire vol in one go. Anyhow, contact me when you have a chapter done and I will do the editing in a day or two. -[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]] 6 December 2012, at 10:27.

User talk:EusthEnoptEron

2012-12-06T16:03:33Z

LoliDragon:

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 3 Illustrations

2012-09-01T15:22:50Z

LoliDragon:

These are the illustrations included in the volume 3
*'''Cover'''
<gallery>
File:MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg
</gallery>

*Not complete

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 2 Illustrations

2012-09-01T15:22:31Z

LoliDragon:

These are the illustrations included in the volume 2
*'''Cover'''
<gallery>
File:MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg
</gallery>

*Not complete

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2012-09-01T14:42:53Z

LoliDragon:

{{Warning:ATP}}
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration Page]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 august 2012 : project creation
* 29 august 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 august 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration Page

2012-09-01T14:28:01Z

LoliDragon:

Currently only one translator, so for now all work is done by MisterV.

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:

*Volume 1

*Prologue by MisterV (done)
*Chapter 1 by MisterV (done)
*Chapter 2 by MisterV (in progress)
*Chapter 3 by MisterV
*Chapter 4 by MisterV
*Epilogue by MisterV

*Volume 2

*Prologue by MisterV
*Chapter 1 by MisterV
*Chapter 2 by MisterV
*Chapter 3 by MisterV
*Chapter 4 by MisterV
*Epilogue by MisterV

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Registration Page]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration Page

2012-09-01T14:22:01Z

LoliDragon:

Currently only one translator, so for now all work is done by MisterV.

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:

*Volume 1

*Proluge by MisterV (done)
*Chapter 1 by MisterV (done)
*Chapter 2 by MisterV (in progress)
*Chapter 3 by MisterV
*Chapter 4 by MisterV
*Epilogue by MisterV

*Volume 2

*Proluge by MisterV
*Chapter 1 by MisterV
*Chapter 2 by MisterV
*Chapter 3 by MisterV
*Chapter 4 by MisterV
*Epilogue by MisterV

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Registration Page]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration Page

2012-09-01T14:21:00Z

LoliDragon:

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2012-09-01T14:16:58Z

LoliDragon:

{{Warning:ATP}}
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 august 2012 : project creation
* 29 august 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 august 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration Page

2012-09-01T14:16:21Z

LoliDragon:

Currently only one translator, so for now all work is done by MisterV.

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:

*Volume 1 by MisterV (in progress)

[[Category:Registration Page]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2012-09-01T14:13:19Z

LoliDragon:

{{Warning:ATP}}
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 august 2012 : project creation
* 29 august 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 august 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Registration Page]][[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2012-09-01T14:11:17Z

LoliDragon:

{{Warning:ATP}}
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 august 2012 : project creation
* 29 august 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 august 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration Page]][[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2012-09-01T14:10:35Z

LoliDragon:

{{Warning:ATP}}
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 august 2012 : project creation
* 29 august 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 august 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page]][[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken

2012-09-01T14:08:35Z

LoliDragon:

{{Warning:ATP}}
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken.jpg|150px|thumb]]

Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (マブラヴオルタネイティヴシュヴァルツェスマーケン) light novel series which replaced Muv-Luv Alternative Total Eclipse in Tech Gian serialization, written by Hiroki Uchida and illustrated by CARNELIAN.

*[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken (Russian)|Russian]]

== Story Synopsis ==
The story follows the East German Army's 666th TSF Squadron in its battles and political conflicts during the BETA's westward push in 1983.

The East German Army 666th TSF Squadron "Schwarzesmarken" (Black Marks) are a special-forces unit tasked with assaulting BETA forces through unconventional tactics; specifically, they target Lux and Magnus Lux to deny the BETA the advantage of ranged firepower. Their orders are given the topmost priority, such that it is common practice for the 666th to ignore allied distress calls that will result in deviation from their original mission, even if only for a short moment.

==Series Information==
Muv-Luv (マブラヴ, Mabu Ravu) is a multimedia franchise by âge spanning manga, visual novels, light novels, and an ongoing sidestory anime series. The three main games in the series:

* Muv-Luv Extra
* Muv-Luv Unlimited
* Muv-Luv Alternative

The original Muv-Luv was released February 28th, 2003. This part contains Extra & Unlimited. Its sequel Muv-Luv Alternative followed nearly 3 years later, and was released February 24th, 2006.

Entire MuvLuv franchise information can be found [http://muvluv.wikia.com/wiki/Muv-Luv_Wiki Here]

==Translation==
Translator's note:
As our previous projects, this one is made for fun and language study; the translations are, thus, liberal.

We will try to release the project with a formatting compatible with common mobile readers.

All of our works can be found on [http://xmistervx.blogspot.com/ the blog].

'''Opinions, and suggestions are very welcome at [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5425 Forum]'''

===[[MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Registration_Page|Registration]]===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

===Format Standards===
'''Every chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*no special guidelines for now

== Updates ==
* 28 august 2012 : project creation
* 29 august 2012 : Volume 1 Prologue
* 30 august 2012 : Volume 1 Chapter 1

==MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken==

===Volume 1 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.1.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

*PDF and other formats for the first part can be found [http://xmistervx.blogspot.nl/2012/05/mla-schwarzesmarken-first-part.html '''''here''''']
 

===Volume 2 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.2.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_2_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:

*Epilogue

 

===Volume 3 ===
[[Image: MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken vol.3.jpg|150px|thumb]]
*[[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volum_3_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*Prologue
*Chapter 1:
*Chapter 2:
*Chapter 3:
*Chapter 4:
*Epilogue

 

==Project Staff==

*Project Administrator:
*Project Supervisor:

'''===Translators==='''
;ACTIVE
* [[User:MisterV|MisterV]]

===Editors===
;ACTIVE
*[[User:LoliDragon|loliDragon]]

==Series Overview==

#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 1 (ISBN 9784047273061) - release date 2011/05/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 2 (ISBN 9784047275287) - release date 2011/09/30
#Muv-Luv Alternative Schwarzesmarken volume 3 (ISBN 9784047279322) - release date 2012/03/30

[[Category:Registration Page]][[Category:Famitsu Bunko]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T13:09:22Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

''That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…''

Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy."

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking.

" She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

" Lieutenant Hosenfeld!"

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again

" How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line" - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector.

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder" - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder.

"When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

"They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve."

This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled.

" There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."

" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"

Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

''Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..''

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat."

Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>.

" Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

'' …and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger.

"And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!"

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"

Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T13:05:30Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

''That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…''

Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy."

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking.

" She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

" Lieutenant Hosenfeld!"

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again

" How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line" - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector.

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder" - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder.

"When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

"They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve."

This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled.

" There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."

" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"

Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

''Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..''

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat."

Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>.

" Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

'' …and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T13:00:05Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

''That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…''

Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy."

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking.

" She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

" Lieutenant Hosenfeld!"

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again

" How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line" - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector.

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder" - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder.

"When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

"They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve."

This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled.

" There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."

" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"

Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

''Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..''

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat." Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>. " Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

''…and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T12:54:35Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

''That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…''

Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy."

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking.

" She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

" Lieutenant Hosenfeld!"

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again

" How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line" - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector.

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder" - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder.

"When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

"They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve."

This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.
</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled. " There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."
" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"
Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

“Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..”

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat." Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>. " Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

''…and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T12:53:18Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

''That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…''

Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy."

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking.

" She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

" Lieutenant Hosenfeld!"

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again

" How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line" - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector.

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder, - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder. - When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

"They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve."

This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.
</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled. " There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."
" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"
Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

“Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..”

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat." Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>. " Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

''…and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T12:41:45Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

''That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…''

Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy."

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking.

" She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

" Lieutenant Hosenfeld!"

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again

" How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line, - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector."

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder, - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder. - When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

- They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve.
This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.
</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled. " There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."
" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"
Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

“Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..”

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat." Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>. " Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

''…and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T12:40:14Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

''That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…''

Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion. – Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy.

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking.

" She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

" Lieutenant Hosenfeld!"

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again

" How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line, - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector."

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder, - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder. - When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

- They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve.
This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.
</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled. " There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."
" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"
Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

“Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..”

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat." Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>. " Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

''…and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T12:20:09Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!"

" Raaaaaahhh!!!"

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.

''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…

Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:

" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him.

''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters.

"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"

Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

“That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…” Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion. – Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy.

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking. " She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

- Lieutenant Hosenfeld!

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again " How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line, - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector."

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder, - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder. - When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

- They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve.
This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.
</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled. " There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."
" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"
Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

“Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..”

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat." Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>. " Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

''…and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

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| Back to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[MuvLuv_Alternative_Schwarzesmarken:Volume_1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

MuvLuv Alternative Schwarzesmarken:Volume 1 Chapter1

2012-08-31T12:16:47Z

LoliDragon:

==Chapter 1==
'''+++January 10th, 1983, 1100 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Outskirts of Cottbus, 6km west of the Neisse river'''

'''++Fort Spremberg'''

The positions of the 35th NVA <ref group="1A">Nationale Volksarmee, or National People's Army, armed forces of the DDR. Widely considered to be one of the most professional and able armed forces of its period, and an elite of the Warsaw Pact troops.</ref> mechanised infantry regiment "Ernst Schürer", second battalion, third company, which only today had held them against three tank-class BETA assaults, were by then a living hell. Narrow trenches with reinforced concrete walls were filled human and alien bodies, and as horrendous as it was, the soldiers did not even have time to separate the dead, much less give them proper burials. The company commander, Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim felt the bitterness of despair on her lips. Not more than fifty men, a quarter of the initial contingent, were still capable of holding arms. Considering the fact that they had been engaged in close quarters combat with the BETA the entire day, it was hardly surprising.

''Another attack, and we're done for... ''

During the night the weather conditions worsened considerably, and visibility was effectively limited to less than half a kilometre. Claudia had to make a decision - to retreat to the secondary defence line, or stay and fight, - the latter would inevitably mean the destruction of the entire company. All communications with battalion HQ had been down for a long time already, and the decision was hers to make.

''But if we do leave our positions, we could be court-martialed... ''

The NVA was officially the Parteiarmee, army at the service of the party, so frequently more importance was attributed to following party slogans and proclamations, rather than considering the necessities of warfare. For her, promoted to the rank of 2nd lieutenant after graduating from the national university and passing a half-year basic officer course, this was a terrible, unjust burden.

''Where are our reinforcements?.. ''

Was the thought that raced in her mind as she looked over her comrades, - former students barely out of the classroom, now shivering from cold and fear in the trenches. All of them volunteers who joined the army on the same day, all of them knowing that there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Commander, here they come again! BETA herd, five hundred units or more!"

"Goddamn them!.."

From the depths of the swirling blizzard they came; on the field, littered with corpses of their monstrous brethren, they advanced; at least five hundred smaller ones, and behind them, massive shapes of three dozen grapplers, with their terrible weapon-arms.

" All units, fire at will! Do not target the grapplers - leave them to our support!"

The overwhelming hail of fire that followed almost drowned out her orders. The staccato of sustained fire from NSVs <ref group="1A"> NSV (Nikitin-Sokolov-Volkov), a 12.7×108mm calibre heavy machine gun.</ref> , the regiment's main firepower, was soon joined by the characteristic thumping of mortars, their crews loading their last rounds; and with them, the booming of the main guns of their fire support - a tank platoon entrenched behind their defensive line. Like droplets of blood the tracers sprayed across the enemy lines. But the BETA did not stop. The ones that survived were mostly tank-class - better armoured yet sufficiently agile six-legged monsters the colour of dried blood.

The soldiers who were previously busy carrying ammo boxes for the machine guns were already affixing bayonets to their MPi-Ks <ref group="1A"> DDR variant of the good old AK-47.</ref>, and in a few seconds the first monstrous tank-class creature appeared over the parapet, its forearms reaching into the trench, as if intent on scooping out its defenders.

"Don't you fucking dare, bloody monster!! Stay awa-a-ay!!!"

All of the soldiers crouching in the trench opened fire, and a hail of bullets shredded the beast, leaving the men covered with gore. However, the BETA were too many, and the defenders too few. In the next moments the regiment was engaged in brutal close combat, and cries of pain and anger echoed over the defence lines.

" Aim for the arms! The arms!!"

Claudia tried to shout orders, but could only watch as her comrades died one by one. Then right above her appeared the ghastly form of another BETA, its incredibly strong paw already raised, ready to strike with incredible force. Reflexes saved her - she dived instinctively and rolled over on her back.

" Eat this!! "

A precise burst of fire ripped apart the beast's joint, - infantry weapons were, after all, quite effective against the smaller BETA species. Then - with a nasty metallic sound, the rifle stopped firing, its bolt locked halfway.

"Jammed?!.. No way!!.."

The most reliable automatic weapon in the world, an AK, jamming at this moment?.. She had no time to check, as an incredible force swept and threw her into the wall. Overwhelmed by agonising pain, she spat blood. Broken ribs must have pierced her lungs, she thought distantly, and realised that it was the almost severed arm of the BETA that struck her like a whip. No one could help her. Her comrades were fighting their own opponents - and dying, smashed, eviscerated, beheaded and torn apart.

" No... no!.."

Feeling a primal, animal fear of death, Claudia looked at the alien through a bloody haze. And then she heard the sound - the ear-splitting roar of jet engines just overhead.

" They... the fighters!.. They're here!.."

Her heart was suddenly filled with an insane hope.

''Finally!.. Help… reinforcements... finally... ''

Crawling along the bloody, grimy floor of the trench, she desperately looked up, trying to find her saviours in the morning sky... and a second later, she saw them. Eight MiG-21s, main tactical fighters of the NVA, their silhouettes clear against the pale sky, cruising above. Graceful and unperturbed, they went on, soon disappearing into the blizzard, unmoved by the tragedy below.

" How... why... why?!" - a desperate cry came from her throat,

" Why aren't you helping us? Why?!.."

In the next instant, powerful jaws closed on Claudia's neck.

Oberleutnant Claudia Quirnheim did not know. This particular unit had pitilessly disregarded allied forces time and again, driven on by their mission, earning themselves more than a few unsavoury nicknames: the Reapers, the Butchers - Tactical Surface Fighter Squadron 666 "Shwarzesmarken".

[[Image: Img3.png |250px|thumb]]
'''+++1110 hours'''

'''++In the air above Fort Spremberg'''

As usual, the steady stream of new requests for reinforcement and cries for help went on, as constant as the whining roar of the aircraft's engines. Unterleutnant Theodore Eberbach, a pilot of the 666th TSF squadron "Schwarzesmarken", grimaced and pushed on the control pedals, making his "Balalaika"<ref group="1A"> Codename for Alternative's MiG-21, believe it or not. It’s a Russian string instrument, a really cliché way to namea vehicle. </ref> lurch forward and gain a little speed. Minute after minute, landscapes projected onto his retinae changed: white fields under grey skies, burnt forests, abandoned fields strewn with BETA corpses... and if he looked behind his shoulder, he would have been able to see the vicious battle with the BETA on the front lines. And the only thing he could permit himself was a deep sigh, - he had long since learned not to think too much about what was happening around them.

"Achtung! Schwarz one to all."

On his retinal display appeared a new communication window. A wave of golden hair, fine, aristocratic features and a cold, strict countenance - unmistakeably the ice queen herself, squadron leader Irisdine Bernhard.

" Get ready for enemy engagement. Comms may be spotty under the heavy metal clouds, maintain formation."

"Eight, copy that "

His toneless reply drowned in a chorus of acknowledgement from the other pilots.

The 666th consisted of eight MiGs, and though they were supposed to have twelve machines, by now there were very few units in the entire NVA which had a full contingent. For the same reason, they were now flying in arrowhead formation, four including the commander's machine leading, four following. The commander's MiG-21 was outfitted with additional sensory and communications equipment. The entire head of the machine was slightly different, with the main antenna brought forward, so that it bore a distant resemblance to the legendary unicorn.

''Eight kites against the whole bloody BETA force?.. Suicide job as usual...''

Theodore gave another sigh. He felt the pressure of the coming fight.

In the past several days, triple-six squadron had been mobilised to check a large-scale BETA assault from the eastern shore of the Neisse river, their mission being Laserjagd <ref group="1A"> It's what the furigana says (and it took me a long time to figure out). 'Jagd' being German for 'hunt', naturally.</ref> - penetration deep into enemy territory with the objective of taking out laser-class units that constituted the main firepower and core of the enemy force. At this time, the squadron, using NOE flight <ref group="1A"> Nap-of-the-earth flight, a method of avoiding detection by hugging the landscape (so at very low altitude). Also "flying under the radar". Note that the arrowhead formation is much more difficult to maintain at low altitudes. </ref> and manoeuvring with their jump boosters, was quickly but stealthily proceeding along the shortest route to the predicted objective location, along the left flank of a large group that was advancing west. In the clouds charged with heavy metal particles that had been put in place by preliminary bombardment with AL shells <ref group="1A"> Anti-Laser shells.</ref> , the threat of detection and exposure to laser fire was diminished; however, it was not an ideal method either, something akin to taking about a couple of bullets from the revolver when playing of Russian roulette. The heavy metal clouds brought their own problems for TSFs operating under them: increased communications interference meant that data links through which the tactical information sharing system worked were now useless, except at close range. Pilots were only able to maintain communications with their wingmen, and there was no link with the four rear-guard machines that had been trailing four kilometres behind.

The blizzard only seemed to get stronger, and consequently the visibility got worse by the minute. The situation was so bad he got a queer, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His nervousness must have shown in his handling of the machine, for moments later a new comm window appeared on his display, from which a pilot's face regarded him sternly.

" Schwarz three to Schwarz eight - keep on course, son! What are you, dreaming?"

Theodore, startled, barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue in frustration and glanced at the speaker, seeing the unmistakeable black hard peppered with grey. The voice belonged to Oberleutnant Walter Krueger, who, a veteran officer at 29, rumoured to be a survivor of Operation Palaiologos, was much more experienced than the 18-year-old Theodore. Being the most senior pilot in the squadron, he was Irisdine's adjutant, responsible for all personnel-related matters.

''When will they stop treating me like a kid?..''

...but Theodore answered as levelly as he could:

"Eight, roger that."

He knew it was a good idea to watch what he said, because of the recording equipment in his comms. Any and all sounds, including whatever he would whisper to himself, would be picked up and recorded by the sensitive microphones.

Meanwhile, the cries for help continued. Another TSF squadron which was supposed to move around the BETA from the other flank came under laser fire and was pinned, which under the circumstances meant almost certain annihilation.

" Oi, nugget. Watch your distance, you're coming too close."

Walter was grumbling again. The practice in most units was to keep a certain distance between leading machines and wingmen, with dispersion of forces cited as the main reason.

"The laser-class' spread... did they get their predictions wrong again?.."

Inputting the coordinates of the most recent calls for help, with the help of his wide-range datalink Theodore quickly found their source. It was a dreadful, absurd situation that they could do nothing about, - a daily occurrence on this field of battle.

"Ma'am, the 721st's requesting backup--"

" Request denied" - answered Irisdine immediately, without a hint of emotion.

" Any distractions from our main objective will have to be set aside. These aren't the first or the last that we will have to ignore, but we have a mission, a responsibility to save many more lives "

" Shwarz three copy. Everybody heard that? We're proceeding on course."

Feigning impassiveness, Theodore felt disgust somewhere deep down. No, it wasn't the coldness of the two officers towards their allies, - what bothered him much more were the pretty words coming out of Irisdine's mouth. "A responsibility to save many more lives ", bah! Theodore had a good reason to think that way about his commanding officer that way.

''Because of them, I--''

"Feindkontankt! BETA group, at 010! Heading 170! I read at least fifteen thousand!"

Walter's sudden shout interrupted his thoughts and made everyone check their radars.

[[Image: Img4.png |250px|thumb]]

The monsters were indeed heading west. Most of them were tank-class BETA, with a few warriors and grapplers scattered about. The distinct shapes of the laser-class targets were nowhere in sight, though according to intelligence reports, they would be at the back of the horde.

"That's way more than we expected!.."

During the briefing, they were told that this particular enemy formation totalled around thirty thousand. If the radar, however, had already picked up more than half of that number, it was safe to double the predicted total.

''Damn them, they get the numbers wrong every bloody time...''

" By the way, Walter, you know that joke?" Irisdine spoke in a level tone, as if she hadn't noticed the enemy at all and was asking about the weather.

" Which one?"

" Someone sends a question to the Berlin radio: are the BETA edible at all?"

" ...And?"

" They answer: of course not. Unless you're an Engländer."

Several muffled laughs could be heard in the comms. The dreadfulness of the rations distributed to the British army, stationed in the DDR under UN command, was legendary even among East German personnel, and Walter chuckled appreciatively:

" Yes, and there's so many of them here... we should export them to those Inselaffe, they'd probably thank us."

" Right, - so first, let's turn those over there into paste."

Theodore didn't even smile. He understood that Irisdine's words were meant to slightly relieve the tension of the pilots about to engage the enemy in a fierce close quarters battle. As if following his thoughts, Irisdine changed the tone of her voice, and gave the order:

" Schwarz one to all, we'll cut off this group in front of us first!"

" Jawohl! " - answered the chorus of pilots' voices.

" Ready! Down we go!"

Theodore yanked the joystick towards himself, giving the machine full reverse boost. The G forces generated by the abrupt deceleration clamped down hard on his flight suit, designed precisely for such occasions. Four MiGs landed together, sending fountains of snow.

"Deploy shields!"

" Roger!!"

All four machines of the lead unit instantly put forward huge assault shields, in a manoeuvre reminiscent of the hoplite phalanxes of Ancient Greece. All the machines of the squadron except one carried the standard load out of the NVA's tactical fighters: a multipurpose assault shield "Shürzen" <ref group="1A"> The assault shields' name remains elusive. Furigana says "scherzen", but that would mean "joke" in German, and unless the shieldfs developers had a weird sense of humour, I doubt this would be its real name. Judging by the fact that they can't into German anyway, I chose the closest possible option - "Shurzen" being armoured side skirts widely used on panzers during WW2. Its kanji also read "multipurpose supplementary armour". </ref> in the left hand, a WS-16C assault rifle in the right, plus an additional weapon on the gun mounts.

Infrared sensors showed enemy signatures approximately a thousand metres ahead and behind the unit. As far as they could see on their radars, the snowy plains were crawling with BETA, a picture reminiscent of tsunami waves coming one after the other.

" All units, feuer frei! Aim at the group in front!"

At Irisdine's command, the four lead machines opened fire. The roar of their assault rifles drowned out the howling of the blizzard, and an approaching grappler exploded, fountains of blood and gore painting the immaculate snow, - a horrific modernist tableau if there ever was one. Surrounding BETA, perhaps in appreciation of the art, reacted instantaneously, turning to attack Theodore and his comrades.

"Here they come!.."

[[Image: Img5.png |250px|thumb]]

" Draw them towards us - fire and retreat!"

All four machines, perfectly synchronised, turned their jump unit nozzles forward and gave a short boost, quickly putting an additional couple hundred metres between themselves and the BETA in front, continuing to fire while giving reverse boosts to decelerate. Such back boost jumps were one of the main tactics of anti-BETA TSF warfare.

" Eat lead, Hurensöhne!!!"

With grim satisfaction, Theodore sprayed the enemy with volleys of 36-mm shells, turning grapplers and tank-class monsters into mincemeat. That their diversion was a success quickly became evident, as the stream of incoming BETA only grew, - though, as a matter of fact, thinking about all those creatures coming after him and his brothers in arms did not make him happy.
Even concentrated fire could not stop the BETA advance, though it did slow them down, and now red waves of tank-class creatures started flowing around the TSFs in an attempt to flank and surround them.

''We're running out of space, won't be able to retreat for much longer...''

No sooner had the thought crossed Theodore's mind that a clear voice broke through the tense silence:

" This is Schwarz two, ready to provide covering fire!"

A new window on his display showed the four rear-guard machines landing behind them.

" Feuer frei! Target the flanking tank-class!"

The rear-guard promptly followed the order of their leader, first lieutenant and second in command of the squadron, Pham Thi Lan, a German of Vietnamese descent. The appearance of their backup made the situation slightly better - attacking tank-class BETA were being decimated, and more and more enemies converged on their location.

''If we continue like this, we might draw away most of those that would be covering the laser-class... ''

As if sensing his line of thought, a shrill, angry, almost hysterical voice pierced his ears:
" What are you doing, comrade captain?!"

Another comm window appeared, showing the face of a pilot wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses. She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation.

" Why are we not attacking?! We don't have time to waste on this!"

This only served to create additional tension for the pilots engaged in combat, - but Gretel Jeckeln, the political officer of the squadron and one of the pilots of the lead flight, clearly didn't care.

" We have standing orders - take those Lux down by 1200 hours! I demand that we stop these foolish diversions and proceed to our objective!"

''Ugh... there she goes again... ''

As much as he wanted to snort derisively, Theodore only allowed himself a stoic frown, not risking to let his opinion show. After all, Gretel, as a political officer, was tasked with observing and controlling the pilots' loyalty to the party, counter-intelligence, propaganda and rooting out of anti-communist elements. To ensure that the army acted in line with the policies of the SED, the Politische Hauptverwaltung, main political administration of the NVA, assigned specially trained officers to every unit of the armed forces. As a result, the NVA had effectively two command structures and hierarchies <ref group="1A"> Historically inaccurate. Even in the Soviet army, political officers/commissars had similar authority only around the time of the revolution and civil war; afterwards the chain of command was strict and unified (and any officer was politically educated to begin with). Their tasks were, indeed, supporting the doctrine, loyalty, and often the fighting spirit of the troops, and they could act as commanders in exceptional cases (such as during WW2 when the commanding officer was killed), but they would not have such wide-ranging powers. </ref> . Political officers were given wide-ranging powers, and even questioning tactical decisions was in their field of competence, not to mention personnel-related matters and such drastic measures as removal of the commanding officers. Naturally, any disobedience towards the political officer would have grave consequences for the offender. Now and then one would hear a story of a commander refusing to give in to unreasonable, absurd demands of their political officers to preserve himself and his unit, who was forced to shoot the PO, - and was then quietly executed by firing squad, his subordinates and relatives taking a one-way trip to correctional camps.

" Our mission is to destroy the laser-class! The more we wait, the more troops we lose! It could end in them breaking through our front line!"

''Yeah, and she doesn't think for a sec that if we followed everything to the letter, we wouldn't ever stand a chance of making it?..''

" Aren't we supposed to complete this mission no matter the cost, comrade captain?!"

" ...Comrade lieutenant."

Irisdine's voice was calm. Only she, as the squadron commander, could speak with Gretel as an equal.

" The enemy numbers are considerably higher than forecasted. Have you considered the fact that this may impede our progress towards the main objective?"

" We don't have time for this! I think we've done enough to divert some BETA here!"

" Tactical considerations are within my competence. Continue diversion." was Irisdine's cold reaction to Gretel overstepping her authority.

It was clear that she was planning to draw as many BETA as possible to one place, and then quickly outmanoeuvre them, striking at the soft underbelly of the enemy forces and wiping out the laser-class.

" Right now on the front line, men are dying to buy us some time! The fact alone that you're ignoring that can be considered treason! Do you understand or not that the party speaks through me?!"

Gretel, only a first lieutenant, was able to threaten an officer that outranked her precisely because of that dual command structure. Seeing that Irisdine was hesitating to answer, Gretel's lips curled up in an unpleasantly triumphant smirk.

" You will follow my advice... or I will assume direct control of all the squadron's machines."

The main political administration had since the beginning been of the opinion that political officers in all TSF units should have priority control access of all machines of their unit. Thus, if it came to that, a political officer would have the option of remotely controlling all TSFs, - on top of controlling all comms and even injecting drugs into the pilot's suit and disabling the fighter's systems.

However, Irisdine still didn't answer, and Gretel's face betrayed some confusion and suspicion. The tension was broken by Walter's shout:

" Commander! Multiple enemy signatures to the rear! Grappler reinforcements! ..Reading... over two hundred! Distance 1200... 1000... contact in sixty seconds!"

''Damn their timing!.. ''

Thedore cursed under his breath, turning his sights on the new threat. A sizeable horde of BETA evidently separated from the front wave and was heading back. Everyone instinctively looked at the commander's machine.

" Lead flight, move to engage the grapplers! Rear-guard - set up behind them, get ready to provide covering fire!" ordered Irisdine without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

" What the hell, comrade captain?! This position has no tactical value, why are we still defending it?! I told you--"

" These need to be destroyed to ensure the success of the operation. All units, schneller! Do not waste time or ammo!"

" We don't have time--"

" We mustn't let them turn back towards our own lines! And they might pursue us and strike from the back when we attack the Lux! We will destroy them here and now!"

''Scheisse! Not like we have many options now, ''

Theodore thought, gripping the joysticks tightly in a bid to stop his hands from shaking. It was a first for him, too - this many BETA, in such poor visibility. One couldn't even predict how effective the squadron's fire would be.

In the next moments, a horde of grapplers emerged from the storm and closed in, - the distance to the first ones was already less than eight hundred metres.

" Target the first ones - let's stop them here! 120-mm, three volleys! Fire!!"

Four assault guns spat orange flame, and their shells landed in the middle of the advancing BETA, ripping apart some and injuring others. The monsters weren't all dead, but clearly incapacitated, so that the ones who followed were forced to go around them - their ranks now in disarray, the advance slowed down considerably.

''So that's what she counted on!.. ''

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate her plan, when he heard a new order:
" Squadron, switch to 36-mm, fire at will! Kill them while they're still confused!"

"Hah! Basta-a-a-ards!!" - he obeyed with relish.
The deep booming of the 120-mm was replaced by the staccato of the assault rifles, spewing a barrage of armour-piercing rounds towards their targets. The exploding grapplers mixed with the snow to create a bloody mist that hung like a curtain in front of the horde.

" Die!! Die, you monsters, diiiiiee!!!" Gretel was shouting, wildly spraying the mist, apparently relieving some of her frustration from the previous incident. She was interrupted by a warning shout from Irisdine:

" Careful! There are still live ones!.."

" ...Eh?!"

A group of flanking grapplers appeared from the mist, charging Gretel's machine. Carelessly absorbed by her shooting, she didn't have time to react, - and from Theodore's position, he couldn't hit them without risking friendly fire. The political officer, though above average for a normal TSF squadron level, was clearly the least experienced pilot of the 666th.

''Dumme Schlampe!.. ''

Theodore reacted almost instinctively, firing his jump boosters. A split second later he was already between her and the charging beasts, breaking hard in the deep snow.

" Won't get past me!!"

Still sliding across the snow, he aimed and fired at the attackers, - they couldn't have been more than two hundred metres away by now, even ripped apart by bullets they died, but others kept on coming, - and then the last one fell not even ten metres in front of the two TSFs. Theodore exhaled, and glanced over the dead BETA.

"If I missed, we both would've bought it right here..."

" L-lieutenant Eberbach!.."

Ignoring the embarrassed and shocked Gretel, he promptly returned to his position.

Meanwhile, the horde continued their assault, and by now there was at least a thousand already within visible range. It was clear that despite their losses, they wouldn't stop.

" Achtung, squadron!" Irisdine's voice came through the cannonade.

" We're stopping our diversion! Prepare for jump on our original course, NOE, arrowhead formation! And don't get your head above thirty metres! "

" Roger! " came the reply from all pilots.

Eight fighters fired their engines simultaneously, and jumped. Below them were tens of thousands of gathering BETA - still an obstacle in their way, despite all they had destroyed. But now, they would slip into the breach, and find their real target - the laser-class. From readouts on his retinal display, Theodore quickly understood that this diversion cost them around thirty percent of fuel and ammunition.

''Now begins the real deal... ''

The queasy feeling, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned. Between the numerical superiority of the BETA, the worsening weather conditions, and the limited supplies, there wasn't anything that would make him particularly cheerful. And there was the matter of Gretel and her political guidance...

''But I will survive. ''

Trying to rid himself of dark thoughts, Theodore once again gripped the control sticks.

''I will not depend on anyone. Only my own strength. ''

He had always thought the feelings of friendship, attachment or consolation, that his comrades sometimes sought, were only a sign of weakness. The only things that mattered were those that helped survive in this war. Trusting unquestionably, or helping someone, were akin to baring your own throat for the knife.

''I know what happens if you trust someone. That's why... ''

Theodore's eyes glinted with hate for an instant.

He was thinking of none other than the commander of the Schwarzesmarken, Irisdine Bernhard. That day, three years ago, the people closest to him were taken away, stolen, leaving him in the depths of despair. And she was one of the hounds of the system...

'''+++1125 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus area, Cottbus base headquarters'''

" Confirming flare signal from the 611th squadron. They're engaging. Comms down after entry into metallic clouds!"

The operator's report drew sighs from the people in the small control room.

"This makes four. All TSF squadrons now engaged in combat."

Sighs, again. All those present here, in the main control room of Cottbus regimental command, thirty kilometres behind the front lines, were watching the situation tensely, but it felt as if no one really knew how or even wanted to evaluate it. All eyes were on the huge wall screen, on which was projected the most recent tactical information about the unfolding battle.

" Attack success chance - sixty-six percent... " as if voicing what was on everyone's mind, murmured second lieutenant Marai Heisenberg, frowning.

"We knew, Marai."

[[Image: Img6.png |250px|thumb]]

"M-major?! " Marai, startled, turned around and saw Major Hannibal Hölzer, commander of the special composite air group 'Hannibal', based in Cottbus<ref group="1A"> Note: groups (or wings – depending on the country) are usually led by a more senior-ranking officer, Colonel or even Brigadier General for bigger units; however the NVA’s equivalent (Jagdfliegergeschwader) were frequently commanded by officers holding the rank of Major or even Hauptmann (captain). </ref> . Right now three of its squadrons were in combat, along with the 666th, which ordinarily had been a unit under the direct command of Eastern HQ, in reserve until recently, then transferred to the Oder-Neisse defence line and temporarily attached to the special task force. Marai was also a pilot herself, but was temporarily serving as a staff officer on Cottbus base. She would be commanding a unit on the front lines right now, but her MiG-21's maintenance was falling behind schedule, and she had to switch to staff functions.

" We were ready for the losses. Our duty is to not let the grief influence our decision making."

She noticed that Hannibal's eyes were sunken from fatigue. For four days, ever since the start of the attack, he had not rested for a moment, giving precise instructions to his squadrons.

" And what do you yourself think of this situation, Marai?"- he asked, raising his voice, but keeping a soft, paternal tone. Clearly, through this conversation with her, Hannibal was trying to show the rest of the staff decision-making at the tactical level, since most officers present had little experience.

" Sir. The success of the Laserjagd will depend on their location," - she answered without hesitation, silently thanking Hannibal for an opportunity to save face.

"At this point the situation on the Neisse river line is critical. Mechanised infantry are bearing the heaviest losses."

On the projected map were clearly visible the outlines of the three main fortified sectors - Cottbus, Spremberg and Boxberg, covering an area approximately 60 kilometres from north to south, 15 kilometres deep. Practically speaking, the fortified line had been erected between the Neisse river, former border with Poland, and the Spree, 20-30 kilometres to the west. The line ran along the entire border of the country, and was meant to be its shield against the BETA threat.
After the disaster of Operation Palaiologos in 1978, the fall of Poland the following year, and the BETA advance up to the Oder, the NVA constructed a defence line. Official propaganda called it the "The Eastern Shield", a great wall that would protect European civilisation.

" This prolonged engagement has resulted in approximately sixty percent casualties in forces defending these three sectors. The remaining forty percent have been forced to retreat to the second and last reserve line. The only things that could change the situation in our favour would be airstrikes and artillery support - both impossible with the Lux still active.

Marai looked at another window, showing the current positions of the air force and artillery brigades. Most of them were concentrated on the west bank of the Spree.

"For that purpose were deployed the six rocket artillery brigades, with both the UN and NVA air forces standing by on the Elbe."

" And if the plan fails?"

" We will have to reform all remaining TSF squadrons and attempt a second Laserjagd."

It was easy to see how reckless this plan really was. Squadrons involved in the first operation would have suffered heavy losses, and the pilots' fatigue would be at its peak. However, there was no choice, in the event of failure. The loss of several TSF squadrons to save the breaking front line was quite acceptable from a purely military perspective. In fact, there have been a multitude of precedents.

"Of course, even now we're already losing two squadrons..."

[[Image: Img7.png |250px|thumb]]

Marai could only pray for a successful hunt - otherwise, the only result of this accumulation of casualties would be a complete defeat.

"How many Lux are we looking at? "

"Our estimates are rough, sir, but we expect around five hundred units. Following the AL artillery strikes and the propagation of heavy metal clouds, we expect their numbers had declined to less than three hundred. "

"Which squadron would come into contact first?"

" Triple-six, sir," - answered Marai quickly, not showing a hint of emotions that suddenly swelled within her.

" The 666th was spearheading the assault from the left flank. I would assume they have started breaking through by now."

"Hm, those fellows are quite reliable, aren't they..."

"Yes, sir. They're not called the top squadron of the DDR for nothing."

In command of the 666th was the hero of the last phase of the Polish campaign, captain Irisdine Bernhard, who had time and again demonstrated enviable tactical acumen. By this time, the squadron had more BETA kills on record than any other in the NVA, and its reputation for being top-grade aces was well deserved. That did not mean, however, that their brothers in arms bore any affection for them - many, especially in front line units, had different ways of calling them, the least offensive of which were "those damn snakes". Marai could sympathise with that feeling, but she also understood that it was, in a way, inevitable.

"Besides..."

From Marai's point of view, Irisdine was difficult to manage as a commander, but at the same time too flawless and beyond any reproach.

" We can only rely on their bravery," she said, turning away to look at Hannibal. She followed his gaze, and had to hide a sudden surge of irritation. His eyes were fixed on one spot on the wall screen - the marker that represented the 666th squadron.

'''+++1130 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++22 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

In the raging snowstorm, the eight MiGs of "Schwarzesmarken" were finding their way through gaps between the BETA, flying at only five metres above ground - one false move, and they would be ploughing those snowy fields. Their engines were blasting up massive plumes of snow and dirt behind the machines. Their cockpits were filled with the shrill TAWS alarm <ref group="1A"> Terrain Avoidance Warning System - generic term for any system that warns pilots of dangerous proximity of terrain. Also known as Bitching Betty. </ref> , - a result of them having to disable the auto balancing system, as it would be too sensitive for this kind of flight.

''...Being a target for the lasers kinda seems easier...''

Making an effort not to curse into the open comm channel, Theodore saw bright dots on the radar - a group of grapplers, only eight hundred metres in front. He pulled hard on a control stick, manoeuvring just in time, managed to swerve and avoid losing speed.

''Scheisse, will you ever end?!..''

Another group in front of him - this time, in much closer formation. He was coming in fast, and a crash seemed an all too real possibility, - he yanked the joysticks towards himself, swooping up to perform an extreme breaking manoeuvre over the heads of the BETA, - all in less than 2.35 seconds, which was the maximum time he could stay up before being hit by lasers.

''Goddamn it, just give us the new MiG-23s already, or some of the western kites!''

His face, tense because of the G stress, had a singularly fierce expression.

''The 21's not made for these bloody acrobatics!!''

Breaking formation now, among the BETA, would have meant certain death, - after all, in this situation the other machines wouldn't waste time saving their wingman. Theodore himself had to abandon more than a few hapless pilots who made the mistake of getting separated. However, it could have been even worse. If the diversion hadn't worked, they wouldn't even have a gap to squeeze into.

" Outta my way, you bloody monsters!!" the shout suddenly came through his headset, followed by the rattling of an assault rifle burst. Theodore clicked his tongue in disapproval. Walter, guessing what happened, snapped angrily:

" Schwarz six, hold your fire! Did you forget your goddamn orders?"

" Negative, sir! Just got rid of a few buggers in my way! Did not forget, sir!" fiercely replied second lieutenant Annette Hosenfeld, piloting the last machine of the rear-guard. Her short hair shook a little with every burst she fired. " I said move, you filthy octopus!!"

''That idiot... how dumb d'you have to be to ignore Walter's orders...''

Annette continued firing on all grapplers in sight. Several muzzle flashes later, her MiG-21, thrusters at full, swept above the gory mess left of the grapplers she was attacking. Perfect control and flawless execution of the attack, - but if one looked at the bigger picture, it became clear that even without being delayed by such reckless actions, getting through the BETA was not easy.

" Comrade lieutenant Krueger! Do something with that!" Gretel sounded hysterical again. She knew that Irisdine left all personnel matters, including discipline, to Walter, and so didn't even bother talking to the captain.

" These TSFs are precious equipment, entrusted to us by our land and its people! Wasting ammo is treason!! Do you want your subordinate to see a military prison from the inside?!"

" Schwarz six, did you hear that?! Cease fire! Now!! "

" This is Schwarz seven! I'll go with six!"

Another comm window - another face, the one taking initiative this time was second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, also a pilot of the rear-guard flight. Like Annette, she was 18, but to Theodore's eyes she looked much more mature, perhaps because of her long, wavy hair and elegant countenance. The three of them graduated in the same year from the same fighter pilot school, and met again in the squadron.

" Annette, please, get a hold of yourself! You're putting us all in danger!"

" I know! I... I know that!.."

The tone of Annette's voice lost all its fierceness. Her psychological state was clearly far from normal - in fact, a pretty common symptom of shellshock. Theodore knew the reason very well: that week Annette lost three people closest to her, three friends from her childhood days. The coincidental death of several friends and comrades with whom she survived the harshest of battles made her lose her balance. In the past several days, her behaviour had been rude, erratic, and generally almost unbearable.

" I... I'm happy only when I kill them, the BETA... a-all of them... and the drugs don't help!.. I dream of them every night... I... if this goes on, I..." by now she was rambling almost incoherently.

'' Well then maybe you should've stayed out of the bloody cockpit! ''

Thought Theodore, holding back his irritation at both Annette and Irisdine. It was widely known that shellshocked pilots put themselves, and by consequence their comrades at risk - there is after all nothing more dangerous than an ally you cannot rely on. Despite that, Irisdine let her fly, citing the necessity to have eight machines for this particular formation. He guessed, that Irisdine did it on her own responsibility, - her continued silence at Annette's outbursts proved that. Perhaps she had even ordered Inghild to keep an eye on Schwarz six. For Theodore, however, this was no excuse, even if otherwise this would have destroyed Annette as a soldier and a person.

''While she's whining, her mates'll get killed by BETA!.. ''

" It's all right, Annette, everything's okay. I'll protect you." said Inghild in a very soft, calming voice, which only served to annoy Theodore even more. For Inghild, a child of an old Junker family <ref group="1A"> Just in case, this has nothing to do with the English word "junk", nor with Freelancer or Gears of War. Junker (youn-keh) families are Prussian landed nobility. Her family name kind of confirms it (see translator notes for references). </ref>, and as such, always treated somewhat distantly, Annette was the only person with whom she really connected. This relationship perhaps was the link that kept Inghild close to Annette, even despite her current mental state.

'' Ugh, I'm gonna puke... ''

These two were really getting on Theodore's nerves. In his opinion, among pilots, who lived with the fear of death at any moment, such things were for weaklings, and would only hasten their departure to the next world.

" Everything all right, Schwarz seven?" Walter asked, his voice tense. Theodore felt that they were just words - the veteran must know feel the same danger as all other pilots. Gretel's face only expressed sincere disgust - she hated former aristocrats with a passion.

" Yes, sir, covering Schwarz six... everything will be okay, - right, Annette?" replied Inghild, trying too hard to be cheerful. Annette, her eyes suddenly lifeless, nodded slowly, as if in a daze.

" Copy... hey son, you watch those two as well, all right?"

Walter's unexpected order caught him napping.

"Why me of all people?!.."

" You got it?"

" ... Yes sir, I copy," - Theodore answered, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice, and grabbed the control sticks so hard it looked like he was trying to squeeze the life out of them.

Not a second later came Irisdine's command:
" Squadron, achtung! Two klicks to target. Prepare to clear out LZ in five hundred metres. It's time for the hunt! Do keep me company!"

On the map appeared a concentration of dots, representing the swarms of laser-class targets.

"Well, here's where we live or die!.."

With a shiver, he looked at the horde of BETA they were approaching. From now on he and his comrades would have to fight in close quarters, completely surrounded by the enemy.

Several groups of laser-class units were surrounded by a sizeable force of other BETA. To complete their main objective they would have to eliminate those first, otherwise the squadron would be crushed between waves of monsters. In the worst case scenario, fort-class species from the very back of the horde would reinforce the enemy here. It was imperative to destroy the Lux and egress as fast as possible.

" Not a very pleasant sight, I must say, ma'am. I wonder, how does this compare to a Hive infiltration op?" asked Walter, and Irisdine answered in the same, level tone:
" Oh, much easier."
" Really? Why so?"
" I'm afraid I've no sense of direction."

This time almost no one laughed, but it was a fact that this short exchange did relieve some of the tension after the incident with Annette.

[[Image: Img8.png |250px|thumb]]

" Canister shot, two volleys! Feuer!!" finally came the captain's order.

The barrage wiped out a part of the herd that was underfoot. Several moments later, the smoke cleared, revealing the dead BETA bodies, - and among them stood eight tactical fighters in perfect battle formation.

'''+++1135 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

Looking over the dreary panorama, Theodore sighed once again. The retinal display showed his comrades in formation, and the endless sea of enemy contacts around them. Grapplers and tank-class species swarmed towards them like flies to a corpse.

''And the Lux are on the other side of this... wall?.. ''

He gritted his teeth. Completely surrounded, the unit could not use fire and retreat tactics, and could not attack the laser-class from a distance. The only option still open to them was making a perfectly coordinated assault, using the BETA closest to them as shields, and breaking through to the pockets where the laser-class groups were.

''No way in hell am I gonna die in this place!.. ''

He grinned savagely, and in that grin were both the bloodlust and the mortal fear of a cornered beast.

" All units, achtung! " Irisdine's confident voice rang in his ears " Commencing Laserjadg! First unit will engage in close quarters, second provides covering fire. Bestow upon them our black marks! 666th squadron, vorwärts!! "

At her command, all the machines of the 666th rushed forward as one.

Irisdine was charging ahead across the snowy field, using short boost jumps to gain speed. Walter followed her close, Theodore was behind and to the left of him, and Gretel even further to the left. In front of them was a wedge-shaped group of BETA with ten grapplers with a hundred tank-class beasts surrounding them.

" We'll cut through them, Walter! Four and eight, cover us!"

Irisdine was a firm believer in the idea that the commander should be at the forefront of his unit, and under no circumstances would let anyone else have the honour. Even Theodore had to recognise her bravery and determination... even if it annoyed him oh so much.

Only a dozen metres separated her from the BETA in front, when she gave a triumphant battle cry and activating the rocket engines, she soared above the grappler.

Suddenly reversing her booster nozzles so that they pointed up, she made her machine dart downwards, holding the "Shürzen" so that its bladed edge pointed towards the sensory organs on the grappler's back. Predictably enough, the edge split the beast's filmy skin, and sliced its torso in two. Thick red fountains of whatever passed for blood among their misbegotten kind sprayed over her machine, bits of flesh and innards flying in all directions. That grappler was most certainly out of the picture. A moment later, Walter executed the same attack at a sharp angle, and another grappler found itself hacked apart.

''Damn they're good!!.. ''

Theodore, covering the lead machines, had the time to fully admire this display of skill. It was quite clear that no one without the exceptional control over their machine that those two were able to achieve could hope to perform such a feat. Such precisely timed jump booster control was something an average pilot wouldn't even be able to imitate. And thanks to the efficient coordination of the four machines, the grapplers were down in less than sixty seconds. There didn't seem any other BETA capable of doing anything in the immediate vicinity.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Secure sector 05-8!"

" Roger!! I'm going in, eight!"

"Jawohl!"

This time it was Theodore and Gretel's turn to make a fast jump towards their target. In their sector were a dozen grapplers and fifty tank-class BETA, the latter already being chewed up by covering fire from the rear-guard unit, - but the grapplers, noticing the threat, began to move in.

''Hah, as if we'd stop here!..''

Theodore, giving several bursts from his rifle, almost without aiming, rushed onwards. Annihilation of the BETA was secondary to securing the marked coordinates, so they paid no heed to the enemy, and not a minute later, they landed at their designated point, crushing some grappler corpses under their iron boots.

" Four and eight, you got incoming at three o'clock! Vorsicht!"

They barely had time to react to the warning, as a small group of enemies emerged from the blizzard. They were barely three hundred metres off.

" Ah, no!.." Gretel moaned.

At this range, it was clear that they wouldn't have time to stop them with fire alone. Theodore instantly took the decision, discarding his assault rifle, - immediately, an automated auxiliary arm took the CIWS-1A combat knife out of its compartment, and he grabbed it with his right manipulator in a backhand grip.

" L-lieutenant Eberbach?!"

"Please stay back! I will stop them! "Theodore quickly cut her before she could say anything. He normally found having to address her politely very annoying, but in this situation it was the last thing on his mind.

"Support fire, lieutenant!.."

" Roger!!"

To say that taking on a grappler in close combat with a knife made for disposing of the smallest classes was reckless, would be an impressive understatement. One hit from their massive forearms, and the TSF was scrap.

Ready to win or die trying, Theodore waited for the first grappler to approach and lift his arm for the strike - and kicked off from the ground with a hoarse battle cry. With split-second timing, he dove under the beast's right shoulder joint, and took the blow on his shield.

The Shürzen's reactive armour exploded - Theodore's field of vision was filled with a blast of brilliant orange, and half of the beast's claw was blown off. The TSF shook viciously under the terrible impact.

" Bastard!!.."

[[Image: Img9.png |250px|thumb]]

He glanced at the system monitors - it looked like the pressure on the left elbow joint had spiked beyond critical. Not even waiting for the machine to recover from the blast, he changed his posture, anticipating the movements of the grappler, whose left arm was still functional. In the next moment, with another triumphant cry, he dashed forward, slicing clean through the beast's other joint - his blade rent the membranous skin, and the beast's arm was cut off, flailing feebly.

" Next!!"

As if through sheer force of will he righted his machine, which was ready to fall over, and met the next grappler head-on, this time driving the shield's sharp edge in the middle of its torso. Its whitish skin wasn't a match for that steel.

" And you're finished! "

The remaining reactive armour on the front side of the Shürzen did its task magnificently - the explosion blew the beast to pieces.
''Any others?.. ''

Looking around, he only saw Gretel finishing off some stragglers. Realising that the immediate threat was gone, he could finally catch his breath, stowing away the combat knife and picking up his rifle. He was trying to control his breathing to calm himself down, feeling a strange mixture of relief and lingering mortal terror.

Just as Walter and Irisdine were unmatched pilots, Theodore excelled in close quarters combat, especially using the combat knife and shield together. This mastery was something he needed to survive this hunt for the laser-class.

''Well, that's it, can't do the same next time... ''

He glanced at his shield, scorched by the explosions of the blocks of reactive armour, and frowned. It wouldn’t be able to save him from the laser anymore.

" Schwarz one to four and eight! Move to 05-0!" he heard Irisdine’s urgent voice in his headset.

" Visual on Lux, repeat, visual on main target! Me and Walter are going to draw other BETA from them! Make it fast you two!!"

''Finally! We got them… ''

Theodore didn’t notice himself that his face brightened. He felt as if a ray of light shone upon them in this darkness.
Indeed, in the darkness and whirling snow, in-between the other BETA, something greenish wriggled – their main objective, the first group of the laser-class species, about thirty units.

" Rear-guard! Cover four and eight!"

" Roger that!"

Only then Theodore noticed the voices of Annette and Inghild among the chorus of those acknowledging orders. The two machines were covering the rear, delaying enemies that came from that direction. Annette’s MiG carried a weapon unusual for European battlefields – a standard PLA Type-77 long sword <ref group="1A"> No idea why the wiki lists it as a halberd – the kanji here could stand for “naginata” (which is a halberd-like polearm; since it’s Chinese, it would be a guan dao, or in European terms, a glaive), but the first kanji is different from the one normally used (薙刀 – naginata, while here it is長刀 – choutou, long sword); and the pictures make it evident that it’s a one-handed sword. </ref> . In the past, the DDR imported these from China, though very few squadrons continued using it. For ordinary pilots, not too fond of close combat, it was an unwieldy weapon, but Annette had displayed her affinity for it ever since TSF pilot school.

" Take this!!"

Raising the glaive above her head, she slashed down at the grappler in front of her. The grappler raised his arm to block the strike – but the glaive cut through it, sending bits of cracked armour and flesh flying.

" There’s more where that came from!! Diiiieee!!!"

Her heavy glaive rose up slowly, and fell again on another grappler.

" Annette, tank-class on your ten! Careful!" shouted Inghild, who had been giving her partner precise covering fire all this time. It looked like she was having a tough time because of Annette’s wild and unpredictable movements. She didn’t let it show on her face, however, and continued her support action, but her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to follow the positions of the forward units at the same time. It placed a great deal of strain on her, and was frankly dangerous – she had to understand it very well herself.

" Forward, four and eight – take those Lux down! I give you sixty seconds!"

Spurred on by Irisdine’s order, Theodore looked forward. The captain and Walter had drawn off two dozen grapplers by themselves, and very few now remained guarding the laser-class.

" Roger!! Comrade lieutenant, I’m going in! We’ll use the grapplers on our eight as a shield, and give a volley of canister shot!"

"Roger!"

With another battle cry, Theodore charged the enemy.

'''+++1150 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++30 kilometres east of the Neisse river, in BETA-controlled space'''

''A vibration… that wasn’t one of our shells… ''

Inghild was the first to notice it. Providing fire support for Annette, she was distracted for a split second.

The blizzard and the clouds of dirt and snow that hung above the battlefield made it next to impossible to see anything but one’s immediate surroundings. Inghild didn’t even bother to look at the radar, which was as good as useless under the heavy metal clouds, but instead turned her eyes back to Annette’s machine. Her partner was still swinging around that huge weapon, but she was more and more worried.

''Please come back safe… ''

The thought that at this point Annette was accumulating a lot of fatigue and stress didn’t leave her mind. The time granted to her was clearly coming to an end, and soon she would be sent back to the base to recover her mental stability. Cases of shellshock were common on this terrible field of battle. What awaited those whose mind broke was a stay in a special military hospital – which, in this country, was little different from a labour camp, where they would meet their end as a human being. The current administration of the DDR did not even want to admit the existence of soldiers whose spirit was broken.

[[Image: Img10.png |250px|thumb]]

''But then if this war ends, and she survives, maybe there’ll be time for her to recover… so I have to keep trying, for her sake!.. ''

Only fifteen minutes from the start of the battle, the 666th had already eliminated two groups of laser-class BETA, and were now breaking through to the third and last. The presence of four other groups had also been confirmed, but signal flares indicated that the other TSF squadrons, previously delayed, had successfully made contact with their targets. Ten minutes remained until the planned start of full-scale bombardment from the front lines, and if everything went well, they had largely enough time to finish mopping up any stragglers.

''Gah, again!. ''

She glanced at her comrades’ faces – none of them seemed to have noticed anything. However, even if her MiG-21 was equipped with vibration sensors, with these numbers of BETA around it was simply overwhelmed. It was therefore not surprising that a human felt unusual vibrations first. And sure enough, moments later a graph appeared on her retinal display, showing abnormal vibrations, followed by a shrill warning buzzer.

"It can’t be! Here?!.."

The message spelt death for the entire squadron.

'' A herd of destroyer-class?!.. ''

◊◊◊

"Destroyer-class?! " Theodore whispered, looking at the same graph as Inghild, as if unwilling to believe his own eyes,

''We’re in the bloody middle of the BETA herd!''

" No mistake, this is their signature!" shouted Inghild " Around seventy units, distance 2500, speed… over a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour?! In visual range in less than sixty seconds! Proceeding in close formation!"

Theodore growled, gritting his teeth.

'' Sheisse! Just a bit more time and we would’ve wiped out the target! ''

A mixture of dread and bitterness boiled up within him. Eight fighters, surrounded by an entire herd, standing against a rush of the destroyer-class – one couldn’t call this situation anything other than desperate. Seeing as they weren’t finished with the laser-class, they wouldn’t be able to evade by with simple boost jumps, and retreat was out of the question until their target was down. He couldn’t expect the political officer, Gretel, to allow it.

''Desertion under enemy fire is punishable by death, after all… ''

Perhaps the only option remaining to them would be to fight until the last moment, then set their engines to overload and destroy themselves along with any BETA nearby. Was this then the end?.. He gripped the control sticks once again, growling in protest.
" Don’t get distracted!" came Irisdine’s sharp command. Her facial expression did not change by one iota. " All units, form on me!"

In the face of imminent destruction, her voice was also perfectly steady.

''Damn it, what’s she thinking?!... ''

But he himself was already moving, and several short boost jumps later he was standing next to the lead MiG-21. Other machines followed shortly. All of them were quite a sight, covered in BETA entrails. They had on average thirty percent ammunition, though Inghild, covering Annette, was below twenty.

" Why this, comrade captain?!" Gretel was shouting again, pale-faced, clearly aware of the destiny that awaited the squadron. " We should spread out and head towards the laser-class! If even one or two machines make it through, our mission would be complete! It’s not too late yet! And if we’re killed, it’s even--"

" We would be killed before reaching them. I cannot accept such a tactical move."

" Then what, are you planning to meet them here?! Impossible!.."

" Listen up, squadron! Fire by rank, switch your 120mm to sabot or squash head <ref group="1A"> She’s referring to: APFSDS - Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding Sabot rounds, modern AP shells that use kinetic energy to penetrate the target’s armour, with the penetrator being made of dense materials, such as tungsten or depleted uranium alloys; and HESH - High explosive squash head shells, designed to “squash” a layer of plastic explosive on the armour and detonate it, transmitting the shock wave through the layer of armour (or concrete) instead of penetrating it. Effective against fortifications and older tank armour (non-composite).</ref> ammo!" she ordered, ignoring Gretel completely.

She was the first ready her assault gun, and Theodore followed reflexively, all the while staring angrily at the commander’s face in the comm window.

''Is she insane? Firing by rank is just as suicidal against the Ruitare!.. ''

" …You do realise that stopping them is imp--"

" We will fire at the front group, stop them in their tracks! Then break through to the last Lux group!"

''Wha… ''

Theodore was speechless again. This time he really doubted the captain really meant what she was saying.

''…break through them?!... ''

Not paying heed to all the other pilots, clearly at a loss for words, Irisdine continued:

" Behind the charging destroyers there have to be very few BETA. We’ll use that! We don’t have any other choice for destroying them until the bombardment starts!"

It was essentially, true, - the speed difference between the destroyer-class and other BETA made a gap quite likely.
''Really… no other choice… ''

Theodore understood the theory behind this move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Breaking through a destroyer-class wave from the front really wasn’t something commonly heard of… but at this point the only thing he could do was follow orders. No matter how uneasy they made him, or how much he hated the captain.

" All units, fire on my command. Aim at the legs of the leading destroyers!"

" Roger!"

Theodore shouted in reply, feeling despair encroach upon his soul. It might have been the same for the others, too.

" Then, on my order, we will begin the breakthrough manoeuvre. Do not, I repeat, do not break your element<ref group="1A"> To remind you – an element is the smallest unit of TSFs, two machines. </ref> ! If we stop them, they’re not a threat anymore!"

The trembling of the ground was becoming more and more noticeable, and their TSFs shook.

" Once we break through, we turn towards the Lux, finish them off – and get out of here!"

Walter’s rough voice interrupted her:

" Visual on destroyer-class, distance 1000… they’re here!"

In the next moment, the destroyer horde broke through the blizzard in front of them, a living wedge parting the billowing curtain of snow…

Twenty seconds to contact. Theodore’s heart was seized by a dreadful, oppressing feeling.

''Stopping… that?!... ''

" All units, feuer frei!"

" Jawohl!!"

They focussed all their attention on the approaching enemy. Simultaneously, eight bright flashes erupted from their assault guns, and without waiting to see if the shells hit, they fired one volley after another.

''This has to stop them… it has to! Or... ''

Irisdine’s calculations seemed to be confirmed, as several hits exploded their targets – the destroyers didn’t even pause, and rushed on, scattering bits of gore, but the second and third hits exploded legs, sending them off balance, and one after another they tumbled. The ones that relentlessly came after them tried to evade the fallen, but inevitably got caught and tumbled themselves, - and so did the next wave. In one tremendous chain collision, the destroyer-class group was in tatters. A strange hush fell on the group of pilots watching this spectacle from a distance.

" It can’t be…" muttered Gretel, obviously couldn’t believe her eyes. Theodore for once was inclined to agree. He didn't know how much of this was the result of a precise calculation by the captain, but the fact was, they managed to stop the thunderous charge.

" All units, break through before they get up again! Move, schnell!!" shouted Irisdine triumphantly, taking up her burnt shield.

" Roger!! Moving out!"

" Hurensöhne!!!}

- Raaaaaahhh!!!

Stirred up by the battle cries of his comrades, Theodore charged. In front of them sluggishly moved the devastated destroyer herd, and the eight machines used horizontal boosts to quickly reach and penetrate the group, rushing through this small gap in the enemy before it closed.

''So we're lucky they were too close together, eh... ''

They passed very close to the wriggling bodies of the Ruitare, who without legs looked like helpless caterpillars – a very strange sensation it was, passing so near the beasts that no one ever thought of engaging in close combat.

However, he didn’t have long to appreciate the strangeness of the situation. As soon as they passed the first rows of destroyer bodies, several dozen of the herd began trying to resume their attack, with one group intent on blocking their breakthrough route.
''Damn, they recover fast!.. ''

" Squadron, no distractions – move on course!"

Theodore looked around to confirm the position of the captain’s machine – and almost gasped in surprise. Her element stayed in the rear, evidently setting up a firing position.

" Me and Walter will deal with the ones coming from three o’clock – you get all the speed you can form those engines and get to the Lux!"

''Her, in the rear guard? The commander?!.. ''

He swallowed hard. She was planning to cover their advance and take on the charge of a destroyer unit with only two machines. He looked around – all pilots, including his partner, Gretel, were following orders, moving on, while Irisdine and Walter set up in a stable position and prepared to fire. However, one after another destroyers were stirring up around them – they would be surrounded any minute. A moment later, on the course of the charging squadron appeared another group of more than fifty smaller, vaguely humanoid BETA appeared, escorted by tank-class monsters.

''Lasers!.. Now?! Sheisse, what to do?!.. ''

It wouldn’t do to lose Irisdine here, as she was the force that kept the squadron together, - no matter how much he may have disliked her, it was only true. But if they managed to destroy their target now, they might be able to escape this hell sooner…
Meanwhile, the squadron’s machines made their way through the destroyer corpses.

" Schwarz two to Schwarz four. Comrade lieutenant, please take Theodore and cover the commander! Annette and Ighild’s machines could also turn back to assist!"

" Lieutenant Lan?!" Gretel sounded surprised. No wonder, the rear-guard leader Pham Thi Lan sounded like she was giving advice to her, a superior officer.

" There’s nothing but tank-class around the Lux! Two machines can take care of it all in less than ten! If comrade lieutenant would lead the other machines and cover the commander..!"

" Our mission’s priorities are clear, and they’re in front of us – the laser-class!"

" And if the commander’s element gets wiped out, we are the destroyers’ next target! And if that happens, we won’t be able to complete our mission!"

" Lieutenant! I would remind you who has the command authority here!.."

Gretel was sounding more and more unpleasant, and Pham kept quiet. However, several seconds later, the political officer muttered:
" However, it is true that comrade captain is vital to this squadron’s combat effectiveness…"

Theodore did sense that Gretel was very uncomfortable saying this, but naturally, he wouldn’t question it.

" Right. Lieutenant Pham Thi Lan, quickly finish them up! I will not forgive any mistakes!"

" Jawohl! Everyone, you heard it!"

" Roger, " Theodore, ready for it, immediately reversed his movement with his jump boosters.

Four machines quickly turned back to Irisdine and Walter’s position. The two were still firing, using destroyer corpses as cover. However, it looked as if they were out of shells for their 120mm guns, firing with their assault rifles. It was clearly only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

" Comrade lieutenant, did only Pham and Sylvia go for the lasers?!" Irisdine sounded unhappy. She must have heard the previous exchange, and didn’t ask why the four returned at all.

" Do admit your error of judgment, comrade captain! It is not the commander’s job to show an example of recklessness!"

Gretel promptly started to fire at the destroyers. Theodore later swore he could see a smile on Irisdine’s lips right before she cut the transmission.

Annette and Inghild were also firing.

" Diediediediiieee Schweineeee!!!"

He could hear the chatter of their assault files - they were out of 120mm shells, too. A consequence of this soft-hearted girl following her idiot partner who was simply firing at everything that moved, - Theodore frowned again. However, with four other machines they were wiping out the destroyers much faster. The corpses were in the way of the surviving BETA, so they were unable to pick up speed and could only prowl around.

…but after finishing off another one, low ammo warnings flashed on his retinal display. He cursed, and quickly checked his reserves of 36mm – only two magazines. And the BETA – there were others now, besides the destroyers. From between the corpses came grapplers and tank-class beasts.

''Not good, not good at all, they just keep coming!.. ''

Theodore, understanding just how unfavourable the situation was, retreated again, behind another corpse – but the BETA, as if sensing that, came after him.

''Dammit, they still haven’t finished?! We’ll get wiped out at this rate!.. ''

From the corner of his eye he could see Annette’s machine, now without assault rifle or even shield, holding her sword with both hands and hacking away, while Inghild still covered her partner – her own ammo count must have been low as well, since she was giving very economical, precise bursts. The BETA were pressing them, but Inghild cleverly used it to her advantage, not letting them get close with a combination of quick manoeuvres and short bursts of fire. He didn’t think it was his job to support them – after all, they wasted ammo themselves, and if he went in, he’d probably end up spending the little he had left.

Checking the time again, he realised they had three minutes left, and scowled.

“When the bombardment starts, we’ll be blown to bits with everything else down here…”

" This is Schwarz one – squadron, achtung!" Irisdine’s order was mostly directed to those left behind to hold against the remaining destroyers. " Pham’s element destroyed the Lux! Therefore we withdraw – jump to 100 immediately! Move it!!"

" Roger that!!"

''It’s finally over…'' Theodore felt a wave of relief wash over him. ''If we can just withdraw safely now, I’ll survive this!.. ''

Trying not to let it show on his face, he pushed the pedal, firing up his jump engines. Now that the laser-class were no longer a threat, simply flying away was a safe option. He turned his attention to the BETA, gathered around them, and—

" Evade!! Evade!!!" Annette was shouting, completely losing her self-control. Theodore turned and saw, as if in slow motion – Inghild’s MiG. The BETA all around it. Its engines firing up. And - a destroyer ramming the machine. The TSF being thrown back, scattering a cloud of broken pieces.

" Inghi-i-i-ild!!!"

" Hurensohn!! "– Theodore roared together with Annette, reflexively igniting the jump boosters. –
"Dummer Arsch, I told you..!"
Evading the tank-class underfoot, he turned towards Inghild’s machine, now lying on the snow. There were now several dozen grapplers in that area. Her comm window was closed, and read “connection failed”.

“Scheisse, why did you let yourself get caught like that?! Actually forget it, now’s not the time—“

" Inghild! If you’re alright, move! Just move out of—"

But he stopped the moment her TSF came into view. Inghild’s machine was lying in the snow, its right arm and leg crushed, and several grapplers were busy smashing it. Their arms rose and fell steadily, and with them bits of armoured fuselage and flecks of leaking propellant. It was impossible to discern what happened to Inghild in her control cockpit. Vital signs were unreadable, as if she were dead

" Out of my way, Arschloch!! " – Theodore roared, overtaken with rage, driving his shield into a grappler’s torso. The beast buckled under his weight, its fluids spraying over the TSF. Theodore twisted the shield in its back, gave a burst from his rifle, finishing it off. A warning of overload in the knee joints he disregarded. - Move!!

He continued spraying the grapplers around him with bullets, shredding them apart, turning the blizzard pink with blood.
Then he saw Annette’s machine, standing there as if paralyzed, her sword arm hanging limply.

" What the hell are you doing, Annette?! Move, dammit!"

" I…Inghild… why… no…"

" Useless..!"

Confirming that there were no more enemies in the immediate vicinity, he pushed away grappler corpses with his assault shield. Finally he saw Inghild’s machine, and couldn’t help gasping at the state it was in. Its armour was torn apart, and its whole frame twisted and bent.

A second later, concentrated fire wiped out some tank-class creatures that were crawling up to him, and the rest of the machines of the squadron landed, together with Pham and her wingman.

" Eight, abandon seven! The bombardment’ll start in 120 seconds!"

In the face of Gretel’s threat, Theodore only grasped the control sticks tighter.

" The operation’s over! Wasting our resources on one pilot whose condition is unknown is—"

" Schwarz one to eight, - Theodore, secure Bronikowski’s machine" Irisdine cut her off. " Did you hear that? We take off as soon as you do it."

" …Comrade captain?! You do understand that we don’t have any time left?!" Gretel was shrieking over the captain’s voice.

Theodore, on the contrary, suddenly regained his calm.

"Eight, copy that! Annette, some help over here!!"

'' I… I…''

"Hurry, dammit, Inghild could be alive, don’t you get it? Are you friends or not?!"

He could hear her gasping.

" I’ll take the right side, you the left, and we’ll lift her together! " – he ordered Annette, who appeared to sob angrily. He quickly inspected Inghild’s machine and found the optimal position for securing it.

" C-copy!.."

The timer was counting down the last seconds, when they were finally ready, and Theodore opened a channel:

" Machine secured! We can move at any time!"

" Squadron, take-off!"

A chorus of assent followed, as the seven MiGs ignited their booster engines and took off. As the ground receded from view, Theodore heard a shrill whine above the sound of his engine, and didn’t realize it the rocket salvo from the Neisse until they started exploding – his mind had temporarily gone numb. As the 666th squadron flew at full speed towards friendly lines, the ground beneath them blossomed crimson.

'''+++1210 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector airspace, altitude 100 metres'''

From the air, the three defence sectors of the Neisse line looked like the depths of hell. Bodies of BETA strewn everywhere leaked reddish fluids that formed ponds of blood <ref group="1A"> Referencing the Blood Pond of Buddhist hell. </ref>.

''We’ve made it possible to use the air force… the rest is yours…''

The battle still continued, mainly consisting of mopping up the BETA that had penetrated deep into the defensive lines. Formations of helicopters and fighter-bombers braved the terrible weather, swooping down to strafe pockets of enemies. The artillery was still working, too.

As they were in clear, safe skies, their stress from the constant tension of being at death’s doorstep, and the excitement of battle, - all of it began to disappear. Their nerves, however, were frayed. They now closed other appeals for help without even looking.

''My mission’s over… I did everything I could already…''

Fuel and oil oozed from Inghild’s destroyed machine, reminding him again of blood, and flecks of BETA fluids still flew from the other MiGs’ black frames. Silence prevailed over their squadron on the way back, whether from the realisation that they may have lost an old comrade, or from relief at coming back from brutal combat.

" Squadron, achtung!" came Irisdine’s voice again.

That sharp tone – the voice of a tireless, flawless commander – hearing it, Theodore felt a surge of overwhelming revulsion. As much as he had admired her composure during combat, by now that feeling was rapidly fading.

" We will start our landing approach shortly. Lieutenant Eberback, lieutenant Hosenfeld, be extra-careful."
Theodore was about to acknowledge when –

" Wait, comrade captain! Returning to base is a priority! We have to prepare for a second sortie!" cut in Gretel.

" Lieutenant Bronikowski’s condition makes this a race against time. We will land and provide first aid."

" You have orders to return to our base from HQ! The battle isn’t over yet!"

Ignoring Gretel’s protests, Irisdine was bringing her machine down, and Theodore followed silently.

They landed at the rear of the army positions at Fort Spremberg. Near them a national highway ran from the front, and along it marched the troops that were changing positions or retreating to reserve lines, exposed to the bitter cold and raging snowstorm, all covered in snow, dirt, and BETA blood. There were quite a lot of injured as well.

Feeling his MiG shake as it touched down, Theodore let out a long breath. Only now he felt the full impact of the fatigue that had accumulated in his body. Besides…

''What are the odds of Inghild being alive?.. ''

Her machine was set on the ground carefully, in a sitting posture – it was the safest one for the pilot inside its cockpit. As soon as that was done, Irisdine’s voice came again:

" Lieutenant Pham and I will take care of lieutenant Bronikowski. All others – remain in your machines… Lieutenant Eberbach, no vital signs?"

" None, ma’am."

" Ah, but, I..!" came Annette’s anguished voice.

" Hosenfeld, you stay in, help us - hold Bronikowski’s machine steady."

" Ah- Copy that…"

The two MiGs knelt near Inghild’s machine, their hatches opened, and the main right arm manipulators automatically extended towards the cockpit, allowing both to climb outside.

" …Lieutenant Eberbach, with this kind of damage we can’t eject her control unit. We need you to use your knife and separate the front of the core module."

" …Roger, "- he sighed in acknowledgment, expecting this.

He carefully forced the point of his combat blade on the top of the core module, and after a moment, sparks flew and its frontal armour fell off. He let out another small sigh, returning his knife to its sheath.

" Come down here. We might need a man for this."

Theodore acknowledged rather stiffly – it wasn’t really a job to look forward to.

As soon as the cockpit hatch opened, a strong, sulphurous smell – that of dead BETA, or rather, their fluids and gore splattered over his machine – attacked his nostrils. He grimaced, and stepped out onto the extended right palm of his machine, feeling the cold despite the temperature controls of his pilot suit.

The first to reach the other machine’s cockpit was Irisdine. Deftly controlling her machine’s right arm, she got close to the control unit and stepped in.

" You two, come here. I need you to confirm the situation."

" Roger."

Inghild was stretched on her seat in the dark cockpit. Her limbs were partly crushed, twisted in the wrong direction, bent at impossible angles. Even the pilot suit was broken, and the damage was particularly severe in the cranial area. Her face was unrecognisable, pulverised from the nose up, and bloody froth was on her lips. Her hair was also bloody – sure sign of a crushed skull… not a picture one could bear to look at for long.

“That’s what happens when you get hit by grapplers god knows how many times…” Theodore though, strangely sober. Despite this gruesome sight, he didn’t feel anything – no, rather, he couldn't.

Ingild’s face, or what was left of it, twisted in a spasm. Every time she took a breath, pink froth bubbled up. Pham took a moment to catch her breath, and gathered her resolve, stepping towards her to ascertain her condition. After a slight pause, she shook her head gently.

" There’s nothing that can be done. She has at most thirty – no, twenty minutes…"

"…I see. Understood, " - Irisdine nodded, bent over Inghild and whispered something in her ear. Then straightened up, took the commander’s pistol from its holster, and pointed it at Inghild’s forehead.

" All units, attention, " - her voice was clear, without a hint of emotion. – Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski has sustained serious injuries, and does not have long left. She will not make it to the base. Therefore, I will grant her mercy.

A coup de grace – the captain would shoot her here, in order to relieve her from her suffering.

"W-wait, captain!.." Annette’s voice was shaking. " She’s alive! So... why? We can get to the base—"

" You do not want her to suffer any more than this, do you?"

" B-but maybe somehow she’ll make it!.."

"Nothing can be done."

[[Image: Img11.png |250px|thumb]]

" …But—"

- Lieutenant Hosenfeld!

" …Yes…"

" Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself."

Annette was silent.

"Cut the transmission. I’ll do it in five seconds, " - Irisdine informed them promptly, in a whisper that was impossible to hear for Annette, but that was picked up by Theodore’s receiver.

Five seconds later, a dry shot and the wet sound of something splattering – as per procedure, Pham took Inghild’s hand to check her pulse.

" Second lieutenant Inghild Bronikowski, confirmed killed in action. The time is twelve hours eighteen minutes."

" …Very well."

Irisdine went to one knee in front of Inghild, and closed her eyes for an instant, making the sign of the cross. Gretel appeared to wrinkle her nose in annoyance – after all, this was a socialist country that rejected religions and churches.

" The squadron will now proceed to Cottbus base… come on, you two, " - she said finally, climbing out.

Pham let her through, and followed wordlessly. Nobody else said a word. Not one person expressed grief.

"…this is strange…you’re all… not normal…" Annette broke the silence a minute later, whispering. "…She died! Inghild is dead! And you… it’s not normal! And not only now! It was the same with the others!.."

Theodore ignored Annette’s rambling, and climbed on the palm of his own machine.

" When someone dies, isn’t it normal to feel sad?! Isn’t it normal to say how awful it is?! And yet, you all, you never—"

" And if we are, does that change anything?" someone said in heavily accented German.

It was the disdainful voice of the rear-guard pilot who had stayed silent the entire time, Sylvia Kschessinska. She was the only foreign pilot of the squadron, a citizen of the former Polish People’s Republic, picked up by Irisdine during the retreat from Poland several years prior, and stayed with her.

" You’re being a bother. She died quickly. I guess something good came out of her dying pointlessly after all" Sylvia finished coolly. A wave of silver hair framed her noble face that was smeared with something that looked like oil or tar. She looked very worn out by the battle.

" Wha… what did you say?!" Annette’s voice was rising, shaking again " How was it – she was protecting me!.."

" That is exactly what I meant, pointless. We’d rather do without you."

Annette gasped.

" Chivalry? Friendship? I don’t know what they taught her in her “noble” family, but this was a pointless death, and I can’t stand it!"

" …Insulting a dead comrade, you!.. you have no sense, at all..?"

" You killed her, right? Stop trying to pass the responsibility onto someone else" Sylvia cut Annette’s hoarse retort. " I’ll say it clearly if you want it – pilots like you, screwed up in the head, are a nuisance. Only thing they do is raise the casualty numbers."

" ..Wh—"

" Shut up, both of you!" Walter raised his voice. " We’re still in the middle of an operation. Settle it after we get back to base if you have to!"

Theodore, connecting to his pilot seat, only felt something like resignation.

''In the end, that’s all we could do…''

To him, Sylvia’s argument was sound. Instead of simply nodding, he steeled his heart.

''Let your feelings go numb… just think of surviving, Annette… you can’t go on if you don’t do it…''

Besides, he thought, she was the one among them who wasn’t acting normal. The Annette he knew before was more cheerful than anyone under any circumstances…

After he and Annette secured Inghild’s machine once again, Irisdine gave the order to march.

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

The scenery before them changed. As they passed the main fortifications, Theodore saw the coal mines and the multitude of roads that led to them. The Cottbus region was the largest producer of coal in the DDR, supplying coal for over forty percent of the country’s total power generation capacities. The mines still continued to function, despite being essentially in the very middle of military fortifications. This was the embodiment of the current defensive doctrine – stopping the enemy at the Oder-Neisse line.

'' Do they really think it’s possible?.. ''

Theodore felt sharply that the time allotted to his fatherland was dwindling. The strength of the BETA attacks had only been growing over the years, and while so far, it had managed to repel them all, it was clear that soon its armed forces would reach their limit. It was not that one could see definite signs of distress in the NVA, but one look at the losses of TSFs and their pilots would make anyone come to the same conclusion. If the BETA spilling forth from the Minsk Hive brought along the heavy laser class once again, the army would surely be destroyed, - their incredibly powerful lasers and considerable physical defence would make the success rate of any following Laserjagd abysmally low. And considering previous attack patterns of the BETA, they would eventually come. He didn’t even want to think what would happen to ordinary people when the front line collapsed. Any trips abroad were restricted and effectually prohibited for most citizens, not to mention evacuation. There was little they could expect in terms of foreign aid – the leader of the Eastern bloc, the Soviet Union itself, had lost most of its territories, and only held on to parts of Siberia and Alaska; other Eastern European countries had their hands full with their own defence. Only their former enemies, West Germany and other Western European countries, sent aid under the UN flag, but it wasn’t clear to what extent they could be relied upon. If one believed official news broadcasts, they had only sent a token force, and were pursuing large-scale evacuation plans, - so to them, East Germany was little more than a temporary buffer for the BETA, that would be able to buy them some time.

''Then it’s over… for us, and this country…''

Theodore sensed an unbearable heaviness on his heart. This war, with its end in plain sight, next-to-impossible missions, comrades killed by BETA, the need to grovel before the tyrannical political officer, and this split fatherland of his… and then there were the hidden informants, the traitorous bastards…

''That’s why I fight only to survive. Not for anything, or anyone else…''

At that moment, a new window appeared on his display. The first to react was Sylvia, evidently surprised:

" A request for assistance? From a TSF squadron, no less?.."

''What?.. All the ones that took part in the laser op should’ve withdrawn by now…''

Enlarging the window, he quickly found the source of the request. This unit had withdrawn from under the heavy metal clouds, and their datalink should be operational by now—

''Wait… these coordinates..? ''

'''+++1235 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector, in the vicinity of the Spree'''

" A UN call for assistance from the territory of Poland? What the hell?"

Cottbus HQ was at the moment in a state of confusion. The feeling of relief after the successful Laserjagd operation was dissipating.

"The source is in the former town of Krosno Odrzańskie… I suppose the BETA could’ve reached there. But it’s too far from the UN deployment positions. Could it be one of the retreating TSF squadrons? "

" Impossible. We got a confirmation that all units participating in the Laserjagd have crossed the Neisse line, - said Hannibal sharply, turning away from the projector."

Though the UN and NVA troops were fighting on the same battlefield, for counter-intelligence purposes they did not fully share information, - this was the reason why Hannibal and the others could only wonder what kind of unit was sending a distress signal, and the projector showed nothing except their coordinates. Moreover, the signal was also distorted by the heavy metal clouds, blown away from the main battlefield. There was, in other words, no way to confirm what was happening except direct observation.

"What do you think, Marai?"

" Sir. Could be a squadron that was engaged in mopping up operations on the Oder, - Marai nodded to the operator, and the projector switched to an image of the former Polish border on the Oder. - When the attack stopped, each army moved a TSF wing to the former border, to confirm that the area was clear and to finish off the stragglers."

An area approximately 70 kilometres wide east of the defensive lines practically became the no man’s land in this war. To observe and control it, the NVA, whose ground troops were tied to the defensive lines themselves, deployed the TSFs.

" If the BETA started attacking, the squadrons would then stay outside of the probable laser exposure range, and guard our flanks against possible BETA actions… but there’s a lot of things we don’t know about the BETA’s attack process, and cases when they turn in an unexpected direction aren’t rare…"

"Do you mean to say that those squadrons could’ve provoked an attack?"

" Yes, sir. In those squadrons a lot of pilots aren’t very skilled…"

" Any units nearby?"

" We should have two TSF units deployed on Hammer base, Eisenhuttenstadt sector. However, they would not be able to comply at this time…"

" I see…"

Hannibal was thinking for a few moments, when a voice behind his back said:

- They should be saved, major… This is a unique opportunity to put the UN in our debt. The Party would surely approve.
This quiet voice, previously silent, brought a hush over the control room. Normally, the political officer had no authority to intervene in tactical matters… Marai looked at Hannibal’s stern profile.

" Call up triple-six. They’re closest to the site, " - Hannibal said finally, in a grave voice.

"Are we helping them, sir?.."

" Yes… isn’t it natural, to rescue another human being asking for help? " – Hannibal answered with a fleeting smile on his face. His expression looked openly hypocritical.

'''+++1240 hours'''

'''++German Democratic Republic'''

'''++Cottbus sector'''

"We got new orders from HQ."

It was not Irisdine who relayed them, but Gretel. No one challenged her flagrant abuse of authority in this case either, - it was normal for orders with some kind of political significance to come through her.

" …A UN TSF unit is sending a distress call from inside Polish territory. We’re to reinforce."

'' Going over a second time in this state? You gotta be kidding me…''

During the Laserjagd, all machines of the squadron exhausted eighty percent of their fuel, and ninety percent of their ammunition. There was also the matter of mental and physical exhaustion of the pilots, - it was not excessive, but certainly not appropriate for any kind of serious engagement with the BETA.

''Do they plan to work us until we break?.. ''

Could it be that the political officer was planning to waste the squadron to protect herself, shamelessly… Theodore, gripping the control sticks tight, listened to Gretel’s words. She was speaking in a tone that made it clear that she knew her superiority in this case.

" …But there’s no need to send the entire unit. Two machines should suffice. Comrade captain, I’ll leave it to you."

There was no one who would go against the will of the military and the party.

" Understood. Seems like I’ll have to go. I’ll need all the spare magazines and equipment" Irisdine replied, unhesitant as ever.
" Take what you need" Gretel replied haughtily.

" Please wait, captain! I volunteer to go!" exclaimed Pham, drawing a grimace of displeasure from Gretel. " The captain should be with the squadron on the way towards its main objective! I will go to the rescue—"

" Lieutenant Lan! Don’t forget your place!" Gretel shouted, cutting her short. " We’re talking about rescuing a UN troop! There needs to be someone of status on our side, not a second-generation immigrant, lieutenant!"

Her words were practically dripping with disdain for any and all who immigrated to Germany<ref group="1A"> This is either another historical fallacy, or just Gretel being a bitch and acting out her family name (see translator notes). This would go against the doctrine of internationalism, and would be characterised as social chauvinism, unacceptable in the real-world DDR and all Eastern Bloc countries.
</ref>.

" …Don’t worry, I’ll be careful" Irisdine smiled. " There are no laser-class left, I’ll be able to simply fly over the BETA."
" …Yes, ma’am, but…" Pham didn’t sound too convinced.

" Your duty is to bring Inghild to the base… Pham?"

" …Copy that."

Theodore frowned at the cheap drama that had just played before him. He was particularly sick of the loyalty that veteran pilots showed towards Irisdine.

" …And, comrade lieutenant. I’ll take lieutenant Eberbach with me. Lieutenant, get the spare ammo."

" …Huh? " – was all Theodore managed to answer, completely caught off guard by Irisdine’s words.

" You didn’t hear me, lieutenant?" Irisdine said sternly. " Get that ammo, now. We’ll depart as soon as we have it. Schnell!"
Theodore, at a loss for words for an instant, managed to squeeze out a half-hearted acknowledgment.

Finally, the squadron, led by Gretel, took off in the direction of the base, and Irisdine continued:

" That area is still a playground for the artillery. Make sure to not get caught up in their blasts."

" Roger!"

He pushed the control pedals, increasing the speed of his machine. Below him were once again the shimmering fields of slaughter around the fortifications, covered with human and BETA bodies. Ten minutes of flight remained until their destination.

“Why me?!.. She’d normally take old Walter for this kind of stuff!..”

Restraining a growl of anger and protest, he glared forward, at Irisdine’s MiG. His heart raced, and for a reason unknown to him he kept on thinking this way, as if something pushed him towards the edge.

''I know what you really are... ''

Truth be told, he heard a rumour about her – a rumour that was enough to cause all this hatred. It was said that she, Irisdine Bernhard, got her heroic reputation by betraying her own brother to the Stasi <ref group="1A"> Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or simply Stasi, was the state security service of the DDR. </ref>.

'''+++1250 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++23 kilometres east of the Neisse river, outskirts of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

They landed approximately three kilometres northwest of the ruined town, close to where the transmission should have been coming from.

" Nothing here… did they get the coordinates wrong?.."

His display showed a desolate picture – a few scattered BETA corpses, already half-buried in snow, and as far as the eye could see – the remains of a burned-down forest. As far as he could tell by the amount of snow on the carcasses, they had been killed several days ago.

"Perhaps the distress call itself was made by mistake, " - Theodore remarked in a somewhat careless tone, and Irisdine gave a little sigh.

" Please just stop being childish… lieutenant Eberbach."

Theodore almost choked, his eyes open wide in shock. This was the first time, ever, that she had talked to him this personally during an operation. Forgetting that he was talking to a superior officer, he answered reflexively:

" Me? Childish?!"

" Yes. You behave like a spoiled brat." Her face and tone were colder than the weather outside, and each of her words stung like an icy dart <ref group="1A"> Note that she uses “kisama” for the duration of this entire passage – to remind you, a derogatory manner of addressing others, but is perfectly appropriate for military subordinates – however, it adds a lot of strength to her lines, and serves to create contrast later. As there is no equivalent in English, I can only use this rather circumlocutory way to express it, and leave the rest to your imagination. </ref>. " Why didn’t you back up Annette during the previous operation? You understood the state she was in. Walter should’ve warned you to watch her, as well."

[[Image: Img12.png |250px|thumb]]

" …I realise my responsibility."

''…and it doesn’t include looking after others'' – he left that part unspoken. He didn’t care what Irisdine thought about it. She, however, turned her piercing gaze towards him, as if finding something she couldn’t allow, and said sternly:

" Be honest. You thought it was not necessary to help a pilot affected by shellshock. Or – perhaps you even kept your distance, just in case? Is that it?"

Theodore swore silently, - she saw right through his motives, and he automatically went on the defensive.

''Could it be… she took me with her to talk about this?.. This is being recorded, dammit! ''

" It was, certainly, a pragmatic decision. However, you also knew that you were shirking off from your duty, and you were afraid that this would be discovered, which is why you didn’t say it, correct?"

" Wha-..!"

He was dazed, - and for the first time, Irisdine showed signs of anger, her voice like a whiplash:

" If you had been looking after them, Inghild might have survived! Perhaps this is a small sacrifice for you, who only cares about his own survival, but to the people who die – it’s everything! You helped the political officer, and your commander – then why not your comrades?! And you’re not ashamed of living, after that?!"

Theodore could only clench his jaw.

" You’re a brat who thinks he knows how the world works! No matter how much skill you have, if you don’t use it to save another, you’re not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi! Do you not even have any intention of saving the people of our Germany, and all of humanity?!"

''Not worthy of calling yourself an Eishi'' – these words were something Theodore couldn’t bear hearing from traitorous scum like her. He lost his composure, and didn’t even hear the rest of what she said.

"Not worthy..?! "– his voice was rising, shaking with anger. – And you..! You call yourself worthy, then?!

Those words that drew out his guilty conscience were the spark that ignited all of the fury boiling up in his heart, and his rage finally spilled over.

" I didn’t save my comrade?! Don’t screw with me! It’s impossible to save all of them! At that point, if I went down, the whole squadron might’ve been destroyed! I saved those that could be! That..!"

Driven on by an unstoppable wave of emotion, he shouted even louder.

"Yeah! I didn’t care about what’d happen to Annette, big fucking deal! And you’re trying to pin Inghild’s death on me?!"
Irisdine was still silent.

"So what, I should go along with some screwed-up pilot out of some feeling of camaraderie or whatever, is that what you’re saying? That is a pointless death!"

No answer.

" I did my job! And I didn’t leave her in danger ‘cause I wanted to!.. But you, with you it’s different! You know what I’m talking about, right? You and the Stasi—"

But the instant that word slipped out of his mouth, Theodore felt like he was thrown under a cold shower, and he immediately regained his composure, - and realising everything that happened, he couldn’t say a word.

" …Do continue."

He breathed in deep, realising that he was literally one step away from the gallows.

" You were going to say that I was a dog of the Stasi, an informer, right?"

The organisation they were talking about was the pride of East Germany, the world’s largest intelligence service. Its role was surveillance of citizens of the country, prevention of dissent, as well as operation abroad – all for the sake of its main objective, the upholding of the one-party regime of the SED. The most terrible thing about it was its scale. The agency maintained an extremely elaborate network of informants all over the nation, and the rumour went that one in sixty people – or, as some of more pessimistic outlook suggested, one in ten – was on their payroll. Even the Gestapo of the Nazi era and the Soviet KGB didn’t have a surveillance system this massive. The agency thus controlled the thoughts and conduct of all East German citizens. The only thing that remained was the terror before this machine that mowed down all elements of free thought and speech. Being arrested by them, even if one was found innocent, meant torture and severe interrogation – and in the end, practically death in the eyes of society. The army was also a target of their surveillance. To prevent the army form baring their fangs, even occasionally, at the party, informants were introduced on all levels. That was the reason Theodore didn’t trust Irisdine or any other pilot, - he simply didn’t know who would turn out to be a nark. Even Inghild could’ve been one. The others were likely feeling the same, deep down <ref group="1A"> The author’s exaggeration is, really, laughable, making it seem like Uber-Gestapo II, for the sake of turning the grimdark up to eleven, like with the political officers, to make more of an impression upon Japanese youths generally ignorant of history (which, unfortunately, seems to be the norm there). The agency was modelled after the Soviet MGB/KGB, and was considered very good at what it did; its reputation and modus operandi weren’t that far from other similar services both in the East and West. This whole picture, really, is closer to Warhammer 40k’s commissars/inquisition, or maybe for a closer example, especially if you combine that with the social chauvinism previously encountered, an Orwell-esque dystopia. </ref>.

On top of everything, Theodore heard a rumour that those informants also had a duty to covertly dispose of any reactionary elements they may find in the army, on the battlefield… like now, when he was facing Irisdine. Her piercing gaze was still on him. He suddenly realised that his throat was dry, and he was sweating. However, he was unable to do anything but return her stare. Either he would have to bend his knee, and go over to her side, continuing to live as a dog of the Stasi, or kill her here and now… No, she was likely to kill him first. From fear and accumulated mental strain, his fingers were trembling, almost pushing on the triggers.

''Because of narks like you, I…''

The terrible memories of that time, three years ago, came back, vivid as ever, flashbacks of people he knew and would not ever see again, mixed with overwhelming bitterness and helplessness.

''Family, friends, and even <ref group="1A"> Note: here he says “aitsu mo” (and him/her), no equivalent in English since we don’t know whom he’s talking about. </ref> … and that’s not it! The torture, the interrogations, being labelled as a reactionary element, left with no choice except the army… and this, again..! ''

Again, that growing urge to scream at Irisdine.

''I’m not going to be betrayed and used, not anymore! ''

At that moment, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye – a signal flare in the south. Irisdine already ignited her jump boosters.

" Wait!.."

" The TSF unit is under that flare! We’re not seeing any BETA here because they’re all drawn towards that combat!"
Theodore’s thoughts were thrown off balance by this sudden change in situation.

" You helped the unit in our battle today, and I’ll praise you for it. Now, if you have any remaining honour, as an Eishi, - do your duty!"

The shrill sound of her machine’s engines came through his headset.

" If you don’t, you will be someone lower than me, whom you so despise."

" Wha-..?!"

" Follow me!"

"Jawohl!"

Theodore slammed in the pedal and took off, tailing the captain’s MiG. His thoughts swirled in confusion. He only dared to look once at the captain’s face, as if looking for an answer, and turned away. Now, like never before, she was their commander, her icy, radiating beauty more apparent than ever.

Not a minute later, he saw on the horizon black smoke rising above what remained of Krosno Odrzańskie, and a large number of BETA signatures on radar.

''Just like Irisdine predicted!.. ''

The TSFs were still not in sight, but their presence in the city was a certainty, since the combat was taking place there. They could search the area from the air, but since this was BETA-controlled territory, there was still a risk of exposure to a surviving laser-class, which made any aerial manoeuvres reckless.

" We split, and search the area! You take the east, I’ll go west. When you find them, report!"

Theodore hesitated for a moment.

" Well?!"

"Roger that! " – he almost spat out the acknowledgment.

Then heard what sounded like a small laugh on the other side of the line.

" Good answer, Theodore."

''...wha..! Is she playing with me?!.. ''

Letting a growl escape from his lips, he quickly separated from the captain’s machine, making his way towards the districts on the east bank of the river. Carefully watching his surroundings, he slipped out into the main street – it was a maze of collapsed buildings. Avoiding small groups of BETA, he pushed on, and finally opened his channel, shouting:

" Scheisse!! Where are you?! Just say something if you’re here!!"

Staying here for much longer would be suicide. However, retreat without any results wasn’t an option, either… but at that instant, something made him turn, and he saw – an F-4 of unknown affiliation, with a large number of tank-class BETA and grapplers around it, on a small plaza surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings. It had already discarded its assault rifle, and was fighting with its combat blade.

" Found you—ah!"

"A grappler struck the Phantom right in the waist."

The temptation was there for an instant – the pilot was likely beyond help, and he could get away alive from the battlefield. But then came the vision of Inghild’s bloodied, twisted body, and the sound of the gunshot, and those pale eyes, full of suffering, - and Irisdine’s words, that shone like a signal flare. As if that was the answer he had been looking for – he didn’t know what was worthy of an Eishi, or what meaning there was in their deaths, and whether he, who lost everything, had the strength to save someone else. But—

"Get away from that, Scheisskerl!!" – Theodore roared, and charged straight into the BETA.

'''+++1305 hours'''

'''++Territory of the former People's Republic of Poland'''

'''++26 kilometres east of the Neisse river, town of Krosno Odrzańskie'''

Theodore looked around, breathing heavily. There were no more BETA in sight – at least, not living ones, the bodies of a hundred or so smaller types scattered around. There were no signs of new groups approaching either, so he checked his remaining ammunition – fifty bullets in the magazine, and no more spares. Finally he looked at the F-4 Phantom that he saved. No markings were discernable, and even its original coating was hard to guess, since the machine was covered in BETA fluids. The jump unit was clearly damaged, and the one blow of the grappler did irreparable damage to its pelvic joints. However, no other machines were in sight, and there were no other signs of battle.

''Fighting alone?.. well, that doesn’t matter for now…''

No signs that the pilot escaped the machine, since the control unit was in place. In fact, he was probably alive inside, the machine’s emergency first-aid functions having disabled him.

''Ah, forgot about Irisdine!.. ''

" Schwarz eight to Schwarz one, do you copy?"

" Theodore! What’s the situation?!" shouted Irisdine over the sound of automatic fire.

"Found and secured one Phantom, heavily damaged, no other machines in sight."

" And the pilot?!"

"Unknown. Going by the damage to the machine, might just be shocked."

" I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll finish it up quickly. Retrieve the pilot, and get out of the urban areas. Rendezvous at our landing site in five. Go!"

" Roger…"

He realised that she immediately cut the transmission – looks like the situation didn’t allow for idle chat.

''Should I go to help her?.. ''

And then he noticed how much his own mind changed over this short period of time.

''…Did I really just worry about someone who could kill me?.. '' - the thought bewildered him. She could use the audio recording of their previous exchange to sell him out to the Stasi… and yet, he instantly felt that this simply didn’t match. Her attitude wasn’t like one of a person who would try and trap other people.

''What’s with that woman…''

Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned towards the downed F-4.

''I won’t let myself be tricked… no, never again…''

It looked as if the control unit’s ejection system was still operational, so the best way was simply to open the hatch manually and get the pilot.

He got out himself, and standing on the palm of the right hand of his MiG, approached the Phantom’s chest console, inputted the standardised emergency unlocking sequence, and the hatch opened. Several seconds later, the control unit slid forward with a heavy metallic sound.

[[Image: Img13.png |250px|thumb]]

Theodore’s heart was pounding, - the grim picture from less than an hour before was still too fresh in his mind.
As soon as the control unit stopped moving, he looked in – and his eyes opened in shock. In the pilot’s seat was lying, unconscious, a young girl, her long, brown hair in a ponytail. Her slender body was wrapped in the standard uniform of the Bundeswehr…

==Translator's notes and references==
<references group="1A" />

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